#turns out I did but it’d been for a different fandom

[ducksoup17]

and for the last night I lie,

could I lie with you?

[yayakoishii]

Can I request sanji and reader being childhood friends and meeting again years later (and sparks fly obviously)… Maybe reader was told Sanji was dead after he ran away from Germa so seeing him is absolutely crazy for them. Ideally reader ends up joining the straw hats? No worries if you don’t pick this one but I thought it’d be cute!!

Gone | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Light angst, fluff? Spoilers for Wholecake Island

A/n: First off, thank you for the request!! I tried my best to write it the way you wanted but I ended up having to slightly tweak the reader's role since it would have been impossible for Sanji to have a friend in his Germa days. I hope you don't mind! If this wasn't quite what you wanted, feel free to send in another request. I hope you enjoy ♡

also available on ao3!

Everybody in Germa 66 sang praises of the three princes. If asked to pick a favourite, they would all probably say either of Ichiji, Niji or Yonji's names. Not you though.

At 6 years old, you had firmly decided to yourself that your favourite prince was Sanji. Yeah, he wasn't as strong as the other three, but he was kind and sweet and most importantly, he was your friend. Well, your secret friend. After all, he was royalty and royalty wasn't supposed to lower themselves to your level.

Being the child of a nurse in Germa, you had been programmed to be born as fearless and unquestioningly loyal to the Vinsmoke family. Except, for some reason, it hadn't worked on you and you had turned out to be normal. At that young age, you didn't really know it, of course. But you could sense that you were different from the rest.

When you saw soldiers easily stepping in to let themselves be killed just on one word from a Vinsmoke, it made you flinch and it made you scared. You hid your fear from everyone except for Her Majesty, Vinsmoke Sora. Your job at that young age was just to look after, entertain and distract her. (The adults didn't tell you that you were supposed to be distracting her from her actual children.)

That's where you had met Sanji. He was the only prince who visited her. You didn't really understand much at that age but you couldn't get how any child could stay away from their own mom for so long. It made you dislike the other three.

"(Y/n), can you treat His Highness' wound like I had taught you?" Your mother asked you as she helped Queen Sora to lie down. Beside her bed, Sanji was standing with a scratched knee. He had slipped on a puddle on the way to Sora. You nodded excitedly and bowed to Sanji clumsily, like your father had shown you.

"Come with me, Your Highness!"

Sanji and you had sat on one of the couches in the room and you slowly worked on disinfecting the wound and putting on the medicine. The said boy was sniffling, which made you look up curiously. Everyone said the princes were supposed to be strong and that they never showed any fear or even cried.

"Am I hurting you?" You asked worriedly, trying to be even gentler. You were just waving the cotton in the air now, instead of actually touching him with it. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" Sanji immediately stopped sniffling, looking slightly alarmed. You could tell that he was scared– just like you! It excited you and you nodded enthusiastically.

"No, you would never cry, Your Highness, of course not!" You tried to wink at him but ended up blinking. Sanji stared at you, a little confused and fascinated, then nodded quietly. "What did you make for Her Majesty today?"

He startled at your question then said shyly, "I tried curry rice today, with an omelette."

"Ooh, did you get it to spill over the rice?!" You asked excitedly as you finished placing your personal favourite band-aid on his knee.

"It failed," he pouted. Before you could try to cheer him up, Sanji noticed the band-aid. "What is this?"

"It's my favourite Kakuma band-aids," you whispered, leaning in so that only he heard it. Sanji blinked at you unsurely before looking back down at the band-aids with a cute bear pattern on it.

"Who's Kakuma?" He asked, feeling foolish. You launched into a big explanation of your favourite show, Kakuma the Bear of Justice. The adults in the room let you two stay like that and that afternoon, you and Sanji became friends. When it was time for him to leave, he had asked you to not call him ‘Your Highness’ because now you were his (secret) friend.

"But I can't do that," you pouted, clasping your hands behind your back. "I am not allowed to call you by your name. But, I am allowed to call you my prince. Would that be okay?"

6-year old Sanji had flushed at the sweet way you called him your prince. He liked the sound of it. He didn't really understand why, but you were now his first friend and you smiled at him and told him about your favourite show and you even told him secret cooking tips that you had sneaked out of your mother to help him cook a perfect omelette with soft gooey insides.

From that day on, whenever Sanji visited his mom, he would also give you some of his food to try. It sometimes tasted horrible and was even inedible at others, but you would always take at least one bite and praise his efforts. You found him very cool for even trying to make all those difficult recipes– your mom wouldn't even let you enter the kitchen.

The two of you were each other's closest and only friend, so the day King Judge announced the death of Sanji at sea, your 7 year old heart broke for the first time in your whole life. Not long after, Queen Sora passed away too.

When you were 8, your father was called as a Wall by Judge and died. Within the span of a year, you had lost all the closest people to you and then came the attack on Cozia. Your mother and a few other nurses got attacked in the scuffle and she had pushed you, telling you to run far away from the battleships of Germa.

That was the last you ever heard of the only remaining loved one you had.

•

It had been 11 years since then. You were no longer the kid you once were. You had ended up lost in the East Blue, worked your way into a pirate ship as a apprentice. The crew managed to make it into the Grand Line when you were 13, but ended up stranding you on an island after an attack killed off most of them, including the captain.

You had hopped around islands over the years, exploring and picking up jobs or working in crews or delivery ships to travel as many islands as you could. Now, you were currently living on a small island that was a few islands away from Marie Geosie. You had contemplated it but, it would be foolish to try to enter the New World without a really strong pirate crew who could possibly survive it. Having made peace with that, you had settled into a small rural town where you worked in a bar at night and taught children how to fight in the day.

Being a small island where the log pose reset within 3 hours, not many pirates or marines ever came by or stayed long enough if they did come. It was the perfect place for a peaceful life– a rare occurence on the Grand Line, in your opinion. So you had taken the chance and established yourself within the community smoothly.

There were rumours going around, though. Of a new generation of pirates that were slowly making their way through the first half of the Grand Line. You had heard some names in passing but didn't really keep up with the news much until that one fateful day. The Straw Hat pirates had docked on the island at sunset and the news spread like wildfire. It was the most interesting thing to happen in a long while and there was a strange tension in the air.

There was also another small crew that had arrived just before them so there was a possibility that the two might clash. You hoped that there would be no fighting for the sake of your simple town. You were at your workplace, serving drinks and food to the customers, most of whom were people from your town or the surrounding ones. There were some unfamiliar faces as well, which you guessed were the new pirates.

You worked while keeping an eye on the ones who gave you a bad feeling. Just towards the end of your shift, you suddenly saw one of the pirates try to grope your co-worker. Within a flash, you were next to her side, standing in between the lecherous pirate and her cowering figure.

In a small town like yours, people were more fiercely protective. While in any other place the girl would have been told to tolerate it, that was not the case in your town. And you were free to defend them and drive the customer out in such a case.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," your voice was cold as you shot him a murderous look. The pirate could sense that you weren't joking with your skills and got out of his seat. You turned around to hold the girl by her shoulders and looked over her to ensure he hadn't hurt her without you knowing. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm alri–"

You were distracted by her answer and felt the pirate swinging at you a little late. Despite ducking, his sword still nicked the side of your neck. You hissed and whirled around, ready to beat the shit out of him when instead, a leg on fire smashed the pirate down so hard that the wooden flooring broke under the pressure. You winced a little at how the splinters pierced him but you were distracted by the owner of the leg which was no longer on fire.

"Getting handsy with a lady and then attacking from behind?" You jolted in shock at the sight of the man. That blonde hair… those curly eyebrows… No way. He was sneering at the man with disgust, a put-out cigarette in his left hand. The man on the floor groaned lightly; he was probably experiencing a concussion. The blonde man looked up at you with concern. "Your neck is bleeding."

"Oh," you automatically covered the wound, feeling the wet, sticky liquid dirty your fingers. You had nearly forgotten about it in the shock of seeing your childhood friend after so many years. He was alive? After all this time?

"Hey, you should go treat it," the co-worker you had saved spoke hurriedly. "I'll take care of things here."

"You sure?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed. Your brain was still frozen from the shock but your body was already moving on auto-pilot.

"Yeah, go quickly before you lose any more blood," she insisted, guiding you to the backdoor. You heard footsteps follow you.

"Wait," the blonde man– Sanji? –said from behind. "I, would you like some help with that?"

You could do it by yourself. You always dress your wounds by yourself. But instead of declining it like usual, you flashed him a smile and said, "I would like that."

Your co-worker seemed surprised by your words too and decided to leave you alone for now. You took the Sanji-look-alike with you to the backroom where your first aid kit was in the bag. For once, you were grateful that you always lugged the thing around; you actually had it on you for the kids you taught. The two of you settled down on the bench and the blonde carefully picked up the necessary medicines.

You just stared at his face, drinking in his features. It felt a lot like a dream. Sanji was supposed to have died. And yet this man in front of you bore such a striking resemblance to him. You had never seen curly eyebrows like this outside of the Vinsmoke family. But there was no way that Germa would let Sanji go, surely?

"Thank you for taking care of that scum," you said, eyes flitting all over the blonde's face. The more you looked, the more you saw your friend in him. Even in the dim light of the backroom, you could still recognise the bright blue eyes. "I could have taken him on if I wasn't distracted."

"I can sense that," Sanji smiled at your wound as he cleaned it up. He wouldn't meet your eyes for some reason but you watched him with half-lidded eyes. His touch was gentle and his fingers felt weirdly cool on your skin. It sent shivers down your back. You were reminded of that day when you had dressed Sanji's tiny injury. Funny how your roles were swapped now. "This might sound a little weird but, you really remind me of someone important to me."

Your breath hitched and you automatically teased, "Bet you say that to all the girls."

He laughed and finally looked you in the eye, "I could never. That person is too far away. I will never meet them again in this life."

He stared down forlornly at your first-aid kit. You followed his look to the plain band-aids in the corner of your box. A smile played on your lips.

"I couldn't find any Kakuma ones here," you said quietly. Sanji froze, wide eyes running all over your face. "Turns out Kakuma isn't very popular outside of North Blue."

"You…" Sanji suddenly grabbed you by your shoulders and you flushed at the close proximity. This Sanji was different from the cute boy you once knew. He was now handsome, but still just as cool. "(Y/n)..?"

"I feel like I'm dreaming, my prince," you admitted, smiling weakly. You placed your hand lightly on his right cheek, brushing the cheek faintly as if you were worried he would disappear with a touch. "They said you died in a shipwreck. Am I just missing you so much that I'm starting to see you on the Grand Line?"

"It feels like a dream to me too," he sounded a little broken. Your fingers pressed into the smooth skin and, it felt too real to be a dream. He was really sitting across from you. "How did you end up here?"

You sat there quietly for a few seconds, remembering the worst days of your life when you lost all your loved ones one after the other. You had kept that bottled up all these years.

"Let me change and I'll tell you everything when we're out of here."

Sanji nodded and slinked out the backdoor while you hurriedly changed, packed up and joined him. You decided to take him down the shore as you spoke about all that had happened ever since his death was announced. He told you about what happened to him the whole time, about the imprisonment, the actual shipwreck, the Baratie and the Straw Hat pirates. Both of you talked and listened for so long, the moon was up high when you finally stopped walking.

The sea was gently crashing onto the shore. Your bare feet dug into the dry sand from a distance as you stared at the horizon.

"So," you hesitated. "What now?"

"Now…" Sanji trailed off as he turned his head to face you. "Do you want to come join us?"

You hadn't expected that. Snapping your neck towards him, you stared with wide disbelieving eyes.

"Shouldn't you ask your captain first?" You asked nervously. The idea of being by Sanji's side for the rest of your life made your heart beat faster. He was different from the boy you once knew but the past few hours had only made you realise that this new Sanji was still the kind and sweet boy beneath all his differences.

"I'll convince Luffy," he said. You realised he was just as nervous as you felt. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"Oh," you looked away and back at the horizon. The part of you that still craved adventure was all in support of the idea. The other practical side of you wondered if you could just up and leave your life here. (Everyone would understand, wouldn't they?) "I spent so much of my life thinking you were gone, Sanji. Thinking that I had lost you forever. Thinking that I would never meet you again."

Sanji didn't reply, just slipped his left hand into yours. He squeezed it gently, as a reminder that he was here now. That he wanted to have you by his side from now on.

"I don't want to let you go ever again."

Your admission earned you a soft smile from the cook. He fully turned his body to face yours and you did the same. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead that sent your heart jackrabbiting.

"I don't plan to either," he whispered.

With those simple words, all your inhibitions were gone.

"Then take me with you, my prince."

You pulled him into a hug for the first time in your life. You were no longer a prince and a servant. No longer quite the friends you once were. But it seemed like you two were on the path to becoming something else entirely.

A something else that you both looked forward to.

°•❀•°

A/n: I feel like Sanji would treat you very differently if you were his childhood friend. He would be so much more serious than his usual perverted facade because you already know him at his lowest point. Also, Kakuma is a made up cartoon character. I took the name from the Japanese verb Kakumau, which means to shelter/hide/protect—something I really wanted to do for kid Sanji :(

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

if anyone wants to added or removed, let me know!

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[tarithenurse]

Just once more

Fandom: Spy x Family. Pairing/starring: Yor x Loid Forger. Word count: 650. Content: Pining, fluff. A/N: One of my best friends came with a suggestion...it was supposed to be smutty but it turned soft instead. Enjoy! As usual not betaed. If you want on my tag list just throw me an ask or a DM if you got questions about it.

Just once more

He’d kissed her (yes, on the lips). It’d been to keep the cover in front of her colleagues: he had to leave and so he kissed her. Lightly. Just a peck really. But for that brief instance, he knew he’d changed.

It’d felt like coming home.

It’d been all that existed for a second. Her surprised intake of air through the nose. The way her fingers curled around his shirt to tug him just a little bit closer. And the way her lips moulded to his, soft and pliable and all too tempting – he’d wanted to sweep his tongue out to taste her but instead he’d pulled back, sent her a smile and walked off like nothing was different.

Since then, he’d been lost.

His mind would stray to that moment unless he actively kept his focus on whatever he was doing. He’d been so good at compartmentalizing all his life but now...now that memory and the sight of her soft gaze afterwards would suffuse every single corner of his mind.

That’s why he’d made a plan: to kiss her again this evening.

His mission might sound simple, but he found himself confounded. None of them had talked about the kiss they’d shared and around Anya they both acted the same as always...but now that the little girl had been put to bed, Forger found that the mood had changed. It was like they kept bumping in to each other, kept nearly touching each others’ hands only to stop short. Averted gazes. Clipped sentences in rushed voices. It was killing him.

“Yor...” he sighs, not even meaning to say it out loud.

“Yes?” she puts her cup down and turns to him as they are sitting on the couch.

His mind chooses the safe route: “I owe you an apology,” he begins, causing her pretty face to scrunch up in confusion.

Pretty? When had it become more than just the face of the woman who pretended to be the mother of his pretend child? Was he going soft?

But he barrels on: “For what I did...the kiss when I left you with your friends.”

“Oh nononono!” She shakes her head vigorously. “No need to say sorry! It’s okay and it was good and they’d been doubting anyone would marry me so it was fine and they’re not really my friends and -”

She’s rambling and he can barely keep up with the stream of words but he does and he’s upset by what he hears. Frustrated. Saddened. Why would anyone doubt that she could find love? Why aren’t they her friends – does she have any friends? But then something else clicks in his brain. It was good. Was the kiss good?

Looking at her, he sees how flushed she is, how she averts his gaze. It wasn’t part of his plan to do it like this but as she keeps talking (he isn’t even hearing her words any more), his eyes are fixed on that perfect mouth and he reaches out a hand to cup her cheek, leaning in to kiss her again.

It shuts her up.

The same surprised intake of air through the nose but this time accompanied by a little sound from the back of her throat and his heart melts.

Deepening the kiss, he can feel her lean in. Her hands find his shoulders, holding on tightly as if she’s afraid to float away. When his tongue sweep past the seam of her lips, his entire body lights up at the sensation, the taste. Tea and biscuits.

They break apart a second or an eternity later. Struggling for air and not minding it at all as long as they still hold on to each other. He’s afraid to open his eyes and see her face...afraid to see that she might not approve.

But he does. And there’s the softest smile he’s ever seen.

And he’s home.

[chaos-vixen]

Wait- did we cross-over again?

Idea rant time:

So Danny Phantom (Fenton depending on how much you know about him) has been traveling after (Mm let me pick a card) “Reveal Gone Wrong™️”! Let sprinkle that with a lil “Can’t Return/ Nothing to Return to” and we have a decent base for a fic.

Now comes my Idea

So here he is, in the R&D labs of Stark Tower after fully completing the plot with one Peter Parker (Spiderman to those who know him about him) and one Shuri, Crown Princess of Wakanda. And these three have already done their bit, payed their dues to the plot gods, when for some reason:

A) Danny’s lil side project malfunctions and opens a portal

B) Villain of the week opens a portal

C) Clockwork decides he needs a new plot point for his favorite soap opera

D) Danny is summoned and PANIC

E) Something else

And where does our hero(es) end up? Gotham, DCU! Which results in in two options!

I) Just Danny, goes with Alley street urchin route (most plausible ending being adoption, might stay)

II) Danny + Peter, dispute the intelligence between them, they go pizza delivery boy route (might be adopted, will be building tech, prob should work on getting home, Mr. Stark will worry. High chance of underground fighting)

III) Team Nirvana (Danny, Peter, & Shuri [GO READ The Ghost of Heroes!!!] And Shuri tells the boys that the pizza delivery plan is low-key dumb (honestly she might go with it but doubt it) and instead they’d get a proper set-up going and find the quickest way to make money is:

a) Undergound fights (Danny, Peter! Why is that your first though?!)

b) Sell tech (Profit↗️)

c) Get adopted(?? P: How will that make money? S: Have you seen yourself and Danny? Perfect adoption bait.)

Goodness this is turning out to be a build-your-own-adventure! But anyways, the plot depends on the options chosen,

(ex: B, II, a - Objective is cash, need to find an in to the underground for fight info and where they can register to participate)

(ex2: D, I- prob just needs to quickly deal with issue (1 Cult summoned [effete and find JLD to go home], 2 John Constantine summoned [likely needs help defeating x threat], and find a way home)

you could pretty much do anything with it (I know I said a lot of different ideas here, I’ve never seen a cross over like this, and I can see why [so many characters!!] but tbh it’d be fun [also Tim Drake + Team Nirvana + Everlasting Trio is a shit show waiting to happen)

I’m not sure who to share this with either (if you play with these ideas plz tag me– I want to see it!!!!!) but I might tag some ppl I’ve seen around the fandoms.

Honestly I thought my rant was going to be about Barista Danny

apparently not.

[herefortheships]

Here it is! My first fanfic in over TEN years! This fic is for today's Destiel fandom event Electric Boogaloo, hosted by @blanketforcas in celebration of the anniversary of the Latam dub giving us canon reciprocal Destiel.

The theme of the event is reciprocation, and that is the theme of my little fic. I hope you like it!

(I wanted to also share this to AO3 and contribute to the over 100,000 Destiel fanworks, but I haven't gotten my invitation yet! So this will go over there eventually.)

Word count: 1,778 words

No warnings of any kind. I think it's a sweet kind of story.

Short summary: Dean sits down to write a letter for Cas with all the things he didn't get to say.

Felicidades a Dean y Castiel en este aniversario. Siempre quiero recordar la alegría (y el DOLOR de ALMA lol) que estos dos me han dado desde el 2012 hasta el día de hoy. Los amo. 😊✨

(Congratulations to Dean and Castiel in this anniversary. I always wat to remember the joy (and the PAIN of my SOUL lol) these two have given me since 2012 until today. I love them. 😊)

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

The words he never said

A short fic by Here for the Ships (Des 💚)

Dean Winchester sat at his desk with nothing but a pencil, a sheet of paper, and a bottle of booze. Sam was out in an early morning run with the dog, so Dean was alone with some time to kill and some thoughts to finally drag out of his head and smother away with this one sheet of paper. It had been over two months, now, since he had been forced to part ways with Cas; since his entire world had been turned inside-out and upside-down.

He wasn’t sure if he had processed everything; from the loss of Cas, to defeating Chuck (aka the God), to living in a world where his new God had been a surrogate son to him only a couple of months ago.

The events of those days played often in his mind, when he found himself alone; they paraded in his dreams as he tried to sleep at night… The grief of what was lost had become a constant companion, peering through any moment of peace in the most unexpected ways. A song suddenly playing in the radio, a scent attached to a moment he would never get back.

Dean had considered taking it on as his one mission in life, hunting down the Empty and getting Cas back. But no. He had learned it well and deep by now, that revenge never resulted in anything good. Plus, he’d had enough of dealing with supernatural beings with ineffable, omnipotent powers. Chuck was the final Big Fish he took down, and he was good with that.

Dean took a look at the bottle of room-temperature beer for a few seconds, and he pushed it back on his desk instead of taking a sip this time. It’d hurt, but these words needed to be said. Or at least, he needed them out of his head and stored somewhere else.

“Well, Cas… These are the things I never said…” he said to himself, picked up the pencil, and got to writing:

Last night I prayed to Jack, again… And Cas, buddy, you know how much I hate having to do that. But I had to. You know, I thought I had accepted it, that I was over it. You did what you had to do, and I did what I had to do… We were all doing what we thought was right. But it just keeps playing over and over, and over in my head.

Cas, what the hell were you thinking? I’m not one for judging… I’ve done my share of stupid things, too. For love, for not wanting to be left alone… But Cas, how could you do this to me? I know it sounds fucking selfish, because you’re gone, and because of that we’re all safe and your sacrifice wasn’t it vain—it was never in vain, I really hope you know that. But Cas, now I have to live knowing that you’re gone because you loved me. You loved me. You said all those things about me, I can scarcely remember all of it (trust me, I’m kicking myself about it every freaking day), but I can feel it, everything. I can feel every damned word, every damned day.

Just so you know, because of you… Because of you I could see more in me. Because of you I could see myself differently than I ever did before. Man, I wish I wasn’t so bad with this… That I could put into words just what that all meant to me, what it means to me.

You said all those things about me, and I didn’t get to say anything. And yeah, just like I’ve prayed to you, hoping you could hear what I had to say, I’ve also prayed to Jack. I’ve prayed almost every single night for him to get you out of that place; for him to set things right… But I haven’t heard a word from Jack, and I haven’t seen a flutter of angel wings anywhere; nothing to connect me to Heaven, nothing to give me a clue on what to do….

Every night, the scene of your death plays inside my head, like a freaking movie I can’t look away from no matter how much I want. And in my head, I always stop it from happening. In my head we face the Empty together and we win. We always win.

Dean stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts, wondering if writing this would be enough.

I think I took it for granted, that we always win. I think at some point I felt invincible. You know, you and me, and Sam, we’ve taken some pretty Big Fish. I think something inside me always felt like we’d always win, that we’d always come back to the bunker together and share some beers. I think something inside me always believed that, even though I didn’t fully realize it. Looking back now, I see it. Cas, when you said those words to me, I froze. And it took me a while, you know? To understand what really happened. That I was your happiness.

“No, I don’t think I should put it like that…”

That I was your happiness. That just letting me know how you felt about me was enough to make you truly happy. Enough to make the Empty come and take you. But Cas, now I have to live with that knowledge and it’s driving me fucking crazy, because… Alright, I’m not good with words, and I’m sure by now you know that about me, Cas, but I just wanted you to know, I needed you to know

Dean sat back and sighed a long sigh, staring at the page like it was staring right back at him, somehow shaming him, even though there was no one here to read over his shoulder. “I can’t even write the motherfukin’ words.”

There was no time to finish this now, anyway. He’d heard the door a few minutes ago: Sam was back, and he should be in the shower now. There was a case they were driving up to today, and he’d already made up his mind: it would be his last. He was officially retiring after today (not that he’d told Sam anything about that yet, but… he’d figure out how to say it on the way back).

They were supposed to leave after breakfast for a whole day of driving.

Chuck was defeated and Jack had vanished, having become the new God (that was still crazy to think about). There were no immediate world-ending threats and no more infinitely powerful surrogate son to take care of anymore. He was done hunting. If Cas was truly gone forever, then he’d honor his sacrifice by living the best possible life he could live. And that life, however he looked at it… That life didn’t include hunting. Not anymore.

Dean sat down to tie his boots, and as he did, a second pair of boots appeared right in front of him. “Man, that was fast. I didn’t even hear the damned door just now. You’re gonna have to give me a break, Sammy.” But when he raised his gaze, he found himself looking at Jack, standing there with a small smile.

The color drained out of Dean’s face. For a moment, he could only stare at Jack, wondering if he was imagining it.

“Hello, Dean. You’ve been okay?” Jack said, sounding a little timid, to which Dean replied, “Yeah… I’m fine, no thanks to you… Almost gave this old man a heart attack…” Dean joked, a little breathless, and God or not, this was Jack, so he pulled him into a hug. “Come here. How’ve you been? It’s so good to see you…”

“I’ve been good,” Jack said, and he pulled away. “There’s someone else who’s been wanting to see you." Jack beamed. "Believe me, it took me a while to negotiate (you won’t be surprised to know, not even God is entirely all powerful), but I finally did it…”

And that was when Dean felt it, the powerful presence behind him.

He could do nothing but stand there as the realization of what Jack meant dawned on him, until the words broke him out of the spell, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around, and there he saw…

“Cas…”

Castiel was standing there, right in front of his bed. He was fully restored; Dean didn’t need to see a shadow of his wings to know this was Cas in his full angelic power, safe and alive and standing right there in his bedroom. “But… how?”

“We heard your prayers,” Jack said, “and Cas didn’t belong in the Empty. I had to right a wrong.”

“You damn well had to…” said Dean, still staring at Cas. “Jack…” He finally turned back to thank him—to say anything—but Jack was gone.

“Dean… I’m so sorry…” Cas said. “I should’ve—”

“What are you talking about, man… You’re back… That’s all that matters.”

“I owe it all to Jack. He is everything I hoped he would become,” Cas said, and he smiled.

And then, there was silence. Even though Dean had been writing a long letter just moments ago, full of all the things he wished he could have said to Cas that day, here was Cas in the flesh right now—his Cas—and not a single word would form.

So Dean just pulled Cas into a hug and squeezed him tight, breathing him in.

“I’m sorry it all happened so abruptly; I wish I could—” Cas started.

“I don’t care. Cas… I don’t care.” Dean pulled back from the hug, staring Cas straight in the face with his hands still on his arms. “All I care is that you’re here.”

Cas looked sad, or perhaps, conflicted. “Dean… I know… What I said before…” he started, but Dean stopped him again.

“Cas… If you heard me just now… If you’ve heard my prayers, to you, to Jack… Then you know. But still… I feel like I should say something.”

“Dean… You really don’t have to—”

“But I’m not good at saying something, so…” he pulled Cas into a kiss. It was warm and tender, and salty with the tears that had finally pushed their way out. Cas kissed him right back, and when they stopped, they stood there sharing each other’s breath, with their lips just an inch away from another kiss.

“I think that should be enough of an answer… But if it wasn’t, Cas…” Dean smiled, a small, trembling smile, and it was almost a whisper when he said, “I love you, too.”

[baileypie-writes]

pls do more velvet x fem reader 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N ~ Sure! I hope you like it!

~Try This On!~

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Female

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: You and Velvet were going shopping, but it somehow turned into you giving her a fashion show.

Warnings: OOC Velvet?

You and your girlfriend, Velvet, were bored, so you decided to go shopping. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, since Velvet loves buying things. But little did you know, this shopping trip was going to be different than usual.

Velvet saw a clothing store that piqued her interests, so you both went inside. She skimmed through the racks, picking out a few things for herself, but then she saw a dress that reminded her of you. “Hey (name)!” She called to you. You walked up to her, but before you could ask what was up, she shoved the dress into your arms. “Try this on!”

Seconds later, you were shoved into a dressing room. You examined the clothes she gave you. It was a (favorite color) dress. It was a similar style to what you normally wear, but much more bold than what you’re used to.

“Hey Vels, are you sure about this dress? I’m not used to wearing something that stands out this much…” You called out.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Velvet scoffed. “Just trust me!”

You sighed, deciding to listen to her. You tried the dress on, and was surprised. You looked… good. Sure it was different, but it was a good different.

You opened the door, and revealed yourself to Velvet. She gasped in awe, and gave you a quick round of applause as you stood there awkwardly. “See? I told you it’d look great!”

~~~~

It had been nearly an hour since then. Velvet kept giving you more and more outfits to try on. Each one looked amazing on you. This was so weird to you. Usually, Velvet would be the one to try on a bunch of clothes, but this time, you were the one giving her a fashion show. And Velvet was living for it, even though she wasn’t the one in the spotlight.

Her reactions were always positive, hyping you up and giving you compliments. You were surprised that there was not one outfit that she had a negative response to. You guessed she was so good at knowing what outfits looked best on you, that she was incapable of picking an ugly one.

After you were done(more like after Velvet was done giving you clothes), she picked up the large pile of various outfits, and took them to the checkout.

“Wait, we’re buying all of them?!” You asked, not believing what she was doing.

“Of course! Your closet needs some new additions!” You looked back at the pile and at the shocked cashier, not sure that “some” was the right word to use. “Plus, these outfits looked perfect of you! Oh, you do have money, right?”

You gave her a shocked stare. “Chill, I was kidding.” She said, pulling out her credit card. You sighed in relief, then laughed.

It was hell getting all those bags to the car. But hey, at least your closet won’t be getting empty any time soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[bubbleddisasters]

Since Y’all liked the last one, heres something somewhat similar:

TWST Characters as funny / random ass moments with my friends/family

———-

Ace : A good friend of mine made an entire Cards against Humanity Deck including us, and we played it at like 4 am.

Also, one of my closest childhood friends of now 11 years, the way we first met was he insulted me, and then thirty minutes later I peeked at his notebook while he was drawing (our beds were next to eachother) recognized Sans from a meme, and then managed to bullshit through an entire conversation about Undertale without him suspecting I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

I made a joke about it a little less then a year ago, thinking he knew by now, but no. He looks at me and the conversation goes:

“Are you telling me our entire first interaction was you just fucking improvising through a discussion of a fandom you didn’t know shit about?”

“Wait you didn’t know?”

“NO?!”

“You genuinely believed that I knew what I was talking about then for 10 years?!?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Deuce: I was biking with my sister, and she accidentally biked straight into a fucking lake. Also when my dad looked me dead in the eye after receiving one of my graded tests and goes

“How the fuck do you answer Maine four times on different questions and be wrong for all four times.”

Bonus Adeuceyuu combo: Me and two of my childhood friends once linked together to grab something we saw in a river, turns out it was just a broken fishing rod.

Also another on me and the above two friends meeting: The first thing one of them did was insult me, and I genuinely have zero memory of how I met the other.

Basically, we met at a sleepaway camp as kids, and for some reason, our sleepaway camp had some wackass shit, but one of them was this game. I don’t remember the name of it, but you had to go in groups of 3-4 and tie ribbons around each staff tent/cabinside without getting caught (and keep in mind each campsite and Cabins were very spread apart) at midnight, and the first to return to the cafeteria, where the staff were waiting, and did so after tying them all, on won.

Kids age 12-17, in the middle of fuck knows where in the woods Long Island, running around in the dark unsupervised with only any light bringing items they brought themselves.

So me, and we’ll call them C and M, teamed up. It’d take too long to go into full detail, but it was a very Prologue Mines fused with Camp Vargas core adventure.

Bonus First year gang in general : Me and three friends were waiting for something I genuinely don’t remember in an abandoned dorm area and got extremely bored, and one of them could do a perfect Donald Duck impression, and another a really good goofy, and this somehow led to us having a fake reality tv show verbal bitchfight as Donald, Goofy, Mickey and Minnie for a solid hour. We all regretted not recording it.

Cater: My friend from Wales entirely forgot about the existence of timezones and called me in the middle of my history class. Her ringtone at the time was just a clip of her screaming “Bread”.

How my teacher didn’t figure out who’s phone it was is beyond me.

Trey : Made Russian Roulette Spilt Cupcakes for a large group of my friends, and one is allergic to strawberries, while another’s favorite is, so I very specifically placed the strawberry filled one on the complete other side of the table with the intention of slipping it in after she picked her two.

Some fucking how, she ended up with the Strawberry one, which I had tied with a bow (basically the ones with bows mean they contain an allergen, and the color is the allergen. Ex: Strawberry was BRIGHT FUCKING PINK.) I’m to this day not exactly sure how, but my best guess is she traded hers with whoever originally got the Strawberry one before we ate.

Luckily, I told her partner, who had been my baking partner in crime and convinced me to add in the strawberry after I said it might be a bad idea, to bring two epi pens just incase.

Riddle : I am around 5’3, and I had a friend (?) who was 6’2-3 in middle school. We had almost the blatant definition of a Floyd and Riddle Dynamic, but he’d out of the blue be extremely sweet to me (kinda like that comic in the anthology), only on days I was going through shit. When I tell you I genuinely thought I was hallucinating when he did though-

Also, I yelled at him for nailing, yes, NAILING, a flag on the ceiling reading :”el sábado es para los chicos” (Saturday is for the boys) In the fucking Spanish classroom. Since nobody was as tall as him and the janitors didn’t notice it, it was there for like a week.

Che’nya : My friend and I have an ongoing inside joke where whenever we spot the other through a window in the hallway, we text the other “behind you” or “to your__”

Leona : I brought a pillow with a silk pillow case (gift from my mom) to a sleepover once, and my friend went “You trust leaving me in the room with this?” and I genuinely responded “Its a pillow, why wouldn’t I trust you.” entirely forgetting that Silk can be pretty expensive.

I felt so bad bro.

Ruggie : My friend once dared me to get a one plate of everything during a party. I misinterpreted this and brought a mostly to full plate of each thing, including water bottles.

Turns out they meant balance one of everything on a single plate.

I did not, infact, return the seven brownies, four cupcakes, two cookies, twelevish tangerines, popcorn and god knows how many grapes, but everything else was returned or snatched by friends.

Jack: My friend was throughly convinced she knew where she was going when we got lost outside at one of the biggest malls in fucking America, and we ended up walking a good 4/6th of the perimeter before finding the target (the store, we were still fucking lost) , which we called her mom to pick us up at.

Bonus: My friend, a few dormmates and I were at Starbucks and this random woman comes up to my friend and goes “Hey, they got my order wrong, want my drink?” and I was literally trying to give him this face of “BAD IDEA”. Yea so he ignored the obvious and drank the whole fucking thing and was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day. (This one could also work for Jamil I suppose.)

Floyd : I was once walking with a friend of mine and jokingly said Trees are giant salads.

This motherfucker breaks off a branch of the nearest tree, takes a fatass bite, drops it, and goes “I want a refund.”

Jade : Randomly got interrogated my mushroom hunters—-

(I kind you the fuck not, MUSHROOM. HUNTERS. Basically, they go out to hunt/find/ forage for rare mushrooms. Atleast thats what they told us?! I wasn’t paying much attention, I was busy petting their dog tbh)

—While camping, my friend and I had zero clue what they were talking about, so she just pointed in a random direction and they thanked us and left.

The same friend also introduced me to mica, but always called them Mermaid Scales, and we more than once walked around in the water looking for them, I was the only one that would literally stop mid-trail to pick some up though. I have a massive collection.

Also she never let me live down the fact I once trapped myself in my tent with fucking dental floss overnight just to see if I could, then couldn’t undo it in the morning, and our adult / guide / trying to keep us alive person had to cut me out with a knife.

Azul : This one very specific time as a kid I was talking to two identical twins, who were standing on each side of me, wearing the same outfits but color reversed, and nearly had an internal breakdown trying to remember which was which, so I just did verbal gymnastics around using their names.

We later literally spent two hours fighting for ours lives together and I shit you not I STILL COULDNT REMEMBER THEIR FUCKING NAMES.

Kalim : Went shopping with my badass grandma and somehow left with a Second Hand Valentino (the brand) dress for $50 and a free bracelet one of the employees gave me because ….I actually don’t know.

Also, I got trapped on a really high up indoor water slide with my sister because the water entirely stopped (we learned later the water machine tied to that ride blew up) , and where we were was like a weird slope like between two drops. We couldn’t get back up, and going down was too risky without water bcs we could go splat.

There was like a window ish on the ride, so like a smart 8 year old, I start calling for help at the top of my lungs. My sister (10) also did this. There was this guy who I guess heard us that we nicknamed Chad because he looked like the most stereotypical 2000’s beach movie love interest lifeguard and was dramatically looking around for where the voices were coming from but NEVER LOOKED UP??

Anyway, My sister got us out in the end because she found a hatch and managed to open it, and I shit you not there was a spiral staircase with a gigantic fucking sign reading “DO NOT CLIMB STAIRCASE.”

So obviously, my sister chucks me across the gap onto the staircase and then jumps over herself, and we end up spending another 40 minutes after that fiasco trying to find our parents while i’m pretty sure Chad was trying to find us.

After the 40 minutes we just assumed we were now orphans and went back to where we left our keycard and low and behold our parents had just come back from wherever they had fucked off to.

Also Chad found us and felt super bad, and bought us a smore cake?!? Someone throw him back in time to be his destined role as an extra in Teen Beach Movie. The cake was great though, but that was one hell of an 8th birthday lmao.

Jamil : My friend from India (jokily) Divorced me after my dumbass asked her if Chai was an ingredient used in Chai Tea.

Spoiler Alert : Chai IS THE TEA. Apparently, asking for Chai Tea is the equivalent of saying “Can I have some Tea Tea please.”

Yea safe to say I felt real stupid in that moment.

Epel : My sister once locked me in the bathroom so she could test her new makeup on me. She left for one second and I kid you not I snuck out of the window.

Random bonus : Me and my cousins for some reason ended up roughhousing outside after one of our older cousins weddings, and I judo flipped a whole ass 17 year old man at age 12 and I felt so powerful in that moment.

Also If you saw about the ranch in the previous post, me that gang had an anonymous cookie provider who would leave us two tins of fresh cookies every day around 12ish pm, usually behind the kitchen or outside the equipment shack.

Yes, we tried to catch them once, No, we didn’t succeed. Also nobody wanted to risk loosing cookie privileges, so we didn’t try again.

Rook: Once scared the living shit out of my online friend by texting him “I am now several miles closer to your location.” . He lives in South America, and I happened to be in Florida with a friend, so I thought i’d be funny.

Vil : I was going to a cosplay convention with a friend, and instead of bringing like a normal amount of makeup, my indecisive ass brought basically a whole suitcase worth of it.

Also won a costume competition at my boarding school for Halloween, and wasn’t even aware there was a competition until the year after, when a good half or more of my dormmates asked me to do their makeup because they’d heard I was really good at it.

Idia: Ok, so, long story, but my friend invited me and two mutual friends to see Sweeney Todd on Broadway w/ the og cast. However, I was the only one who didn’t know we were going anywhere, because he thought his mom told my dad we were going to see Sweeney Todd, while my dad thought my friend told me, but also he was suspiciously alluding to it, maybe unintentionally

So I show up in a blue hoodie with a bad pun on it, mildly ripped sweatpants, mismatched socks and bright rainbow crocs. Not very “going to watch a musical about cannibalism and Serial Killers” attire. But it gets worse.

So around the 3/4ths into the first act is when I usually get snacks at musicals or plays, since they’re usually just finished setting up and theres no line, so I’m in and out and don’t miss much.

Well, I did that as usual, and its important to know we had front row balcony seats, because…

I slipped on my friends playbill on the way to my seat, and my fucking left croc went flying down into the seats below us, and hit an older woman in the head right at Sweeney did the first oofing, and the stage lights go red for a moment in this scene.

I felt so bad, and was literally too embarrassed to go get the shoe myself, so one of my friends got it for me. Apparently the lady thought it was somewhat funny (thank fucking goodness)

Ortho : My sister and I were biking once, and found out some reason the coats we had (school merch from field day I think). had the biggest fucking hidden pockets known to man.

So the next time we went out, she for some reason decided to put our dads entire laptop in there.

Also bonus: My friend once invited me over to their house to help with their costume, and when I came over, the costume was literally a gigantic trash can. No, not the actual object, They were literally making a giant trashcan costume.

I helped but still remained mildly confused in the process.

Malleus : I had a good friend who lived next to a graveyard, and sometimes we would just go on nice walks in the graveyard.

Lilia: Another Wilderness one: We were making Pasta, and one of the guys in our group was playing with a large thing of moss, tripped, and the moss got into the fucking pasta.

One guide said “Nature Consequence, we can still eat it” while the other screamed they were going to get fired.

Also, me and a friend were singing bo-burnham on a hike, and for some reason we had this stupid ass idea of making a fake fishing rod called…..

“The Child Catcher.”

(The irony ony of us both being 14 at the time so technically we were children)

We found a good fishing rod like stick and a vine, tied a vine on, and I kid you not we carried that thing for MILES. We also made a fork with a flatly shaped stick and a rock named Reddie.

Yea living in the woods does somethin to ya I gotta say.

Bonus: One of my childhood friends had a very giant dog, and one time we had a sleepover, she was laying infront of the other side of the door when we woke , and because of the way the door was, we couldn’t get through.

So my genius solution was to climb out the window (this was on the second floor) , Cha-Cha real smoothed to the nearest other window, go through there, and lure the dog away with a treat.

It worked.

Silver: Went to this make your own dipped popsicle thing with a good friend of mine, and watched in pure horror as she got a mango popsicle dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in fruity pebbles.

Another one: I was at a Sleepover and there was this tent like thing that was meant for tiny people (aka me, not really it was for toddlers but I was small enough to fit at the time), and at some point in the middle of the night, someone tripped on the tent and it entirely collapsed on me, and not only did I sleep through it, I ended up being the last person to wake up because they all saw the tent collapsed and assumed I was already awake.

Also I was camping once and I rolled away from my tarp and somehow down a road, and my friend said when she found me there was just several butterflies and caterpillars on me. I originally didn’t know but I found a caterpillar on my head that morning and apparently it was poisonous (I was fine and I named him Bob)

Sebek: I was in an escape room with some friends, and I discovered that a key we had gotten in the very beginning worked on another lock, so I did that, and later one of my loud friends finds a key and is SPIRALING because she can’t find what it unlocks for like 30 minutes, and after several minutes I realized, unintentionally slammed my hand on a desk and screamed “OH SHIT.” with zero context.

That experience was actually my first time in a escape room with friends, and not my family or a bunch of drunk strangers in suits + my concerned mother.

Second years : My friends in the priorly mentioned group consisted of who I’ll call N, who was doing 70% of the work, we had R, who was angrily searching for the lock to the key, we had T, the birthday boi, who was randomly making jokes about the 1930s, S, who genuinely forgot he had a key item in his pocket, and A, who dramatically serenaded the paintings after misinterpreting a clue and me, who kept accidentally unlocking shit ahead of time.

Third Years: Prior to the other mentioned event, we had gone to a small improv event that ended up being just us, and the poor guy running it kept giving us scenarios and random conditions which we would absolutely make the craziest shit from.

If I remember correctly, one of the skits was we were supposed to be a school board, and the condition was when someone said an idea, you had to say yes.

The result? a organ harvesting business thats front was a school, and everytime someone got detention, one organ of theirs was sold, and the funds went into funding the biogenetically engineered creation of Hatsune Miku and Cat Boys.

For some reason this skit also led somehow into atomic glitter and cocaine missiles, selling souls on Ebay with express shipping, using Sephora Products and Instagram to spread our propaganda, making meme complications of our crimes, and nuking the Bermuda Triangle.

Ask no questions because I have no answers.

——————————-

Yea thats it for now! Enjoy!

:3

[ruinofchimera]

“No one confirmed Barty Crouch Jr.’s house, and thinking of him as a Ravenclaw is just a headcanon.”

Fine, sure. But to shove him into Slytherin? That’s bloody lazy. Worse, it’s dead wrong on every level that matters.

As Sirius put it, it was a “nasty little shock” for a man like Crouch Sr.—a ruthless crusader against Death Eaters and their pure-blood supremacy filth. But if Junior had been sorted into Slytherin, the shock would’ve hit with the force of a blunt spoon, not the gut punch it clearly was. Slytherin, home of Death Eater wannabes, would’ve set alarm bells ringing in Crouch Sr.’s head. He would’ve been preparing his “I knew this was coming” face right after the Sorting—a bloody bright red flag waving in his face.

And word would’ve spread. If the son of one of the Ministry’s most relentless Death Eater hunters had slithered into Slytherin, people would’ve talked. People would’ve wondered. It’d be irony so sharp it could draw blood—Crouch, the man so desperate to stamp out darkness, watching his own heir settle into the snake pit. It’d reek of defeat, right where it stung most.

But no. The shock told a different story. It wasn’t the expected disappointment of a son straying down a dangerous road; it was the stunned disbelief of a man hit where he least expected. Barty Jr.’s fall into the Dark Arts came from nowhere—or at least nowhere his father could’ve foreseen. No whispers. No ominous signs. Just a good little boy turning bad when no one was watching.

See, if Barty had been sorted into Slytherin, no one would’ve asked “how did this happen?” No soul-searching, no hand-wringing—just a shrug and the usual mutterings about Slytherin breeding dark wizards. The wizarding world would’ve talked for about five minutes before collectively shrugging and saying, ‘Well, there’s Slytherin for you.’ Simple. Easy. Neat.

But here? People are confused. Baffled. Almost pitying. The surprise reflects the public’s belief that Barty wasn’t bound for darkness, which is a far cry from how they might react to a Slytherin, whose behavior they’d likely see as an inherent part of their nature. With Barty—a boy who had that clean, respectable look—they’re left staring at the wreckage, wondering where it all went wrong.

Oh, and that’s where it gets fun. Sirius Black—who would rather join a knitting club with Kreacher than entertain the idea of a good Slytherin—actually hesitates to condemn Barty Jr. Why? Because Junior wasn’t a Slytherin. That’s the crux. Sirius has never been one to mince words about Slytherin; his bias is carved into his very bones, thanks to growing up surrounded by them. The fact that he’s hesitating? That’s bloody significant. That’s the lack of Slytherin stench working its magic. Without that mark, there’s room for doubt. Room for pity. Something no Slytherin would ever be granted, not from Sirius Black.

Now, imagine Barty had been sorted into Slytherin, hanging around with the likes of Regulus, who practically had “Voldemort’s fanboy” stamped on his forehead. Would Sirius have hesitated then? Not a chance in hell.

Hate to be the killjoy here—but no, not really. If you’re going to drown me in this ridiculous headcanon, pulling it from every half-baked corner of fandom, then you’re practically begging for this. It’s not exactly shocking that the fandom, with its talent for boiling characters down to their most shallow traits, has latched onto the idea of Barty being a Slytherin. Fans love to scream about how canon is too prejudiced toward Slytherin; then they turn around and double down on the same damn stereotypes they claim to hate.

Slytherin has become this lazy shorthand for villainy in their heads, reducing complex characters to cardboard cutouts of what they should be. Instead of appreciating Barty’s complexity, the fandom stuffs him into the Slytherin box, slapping on the label “Death Eater” like it’s a personality trait. Because for them, Death Eater equals Slytherin, and to hell with nuance.

But here’s the point: Barty’s story is all about nuance. What makes his fall so stomach-turning is that no one—no one—saw it coming. And when it hits, it hits—a proper, jaw-dropping shock. The insistence on cramming him into Slytherin? It misses the point entirely, ripping away the layers that give his arc its weight.

You don’t need to stare long at Barty Crouch Jr. to figure he could’ve landed anywhere but Slytherin.

[404deus]

Used to be a big fan of your old art style. Initially I was excited to see you return back to drawing, but the art deprovement is real… You lost the appeal in your old art style, it used to be charming with the messy sketch lines and special effects. Now it’s just janky and strangely neat in a revolting way. It’s Always sad to see artists that are not young anymore just getting worse at their craft as they grow older. Shame. You fell off big time. Your old art used to get so much more attention, and now with your “new art style” it’s just crumbs of what you used to have.

hmm… i think it’s ok to prefer my older art style, my style is always changing n growing in different directions ! sometimes it might not be the way that clicks w u anymore, and that’s ok. i wanna take some time to share my art journey with u anon, not looking to change ur mind but i thought it’d be interesting to go down memory lane and my thought processes — gonna be under a read more since this will b a long post

my art journey has been a long one for me… i have been drawing since i was a dumb teenager and man did i struggle with finding a style back then. this was my art when i was 17-19, it wasn’t anything consistent bc it was just me practicing the styles of the artists i looked up to at that time. i rmb feeling insecure bc i felt that my art skill was so ass compared to much younger artists in the fandom at that point of time, but i told myself to just continue trying my best n eventually i’ll figure out an art style i could call my own

when i was 20-22, i got into the OMORI fandom and i loved the art style so much. most of my art style transitioning then was very heavily referenced off the official game art. it’s the art that most people loved the most, as you mentioned! i’m still very fond of it looking back at it, and it’ll always hold a dear place in my heart :]

i stopped drawing for a year or so when i was 22-24, i did try to come back once but it didn’t last long. i was going through a very rough patch in my life (bad breakup, transitioning to adulthood, health issues) and i genuinely thought abt quitting art. i was getting alot of my art stolen and resold on platforms like temu, aliexpress n there was nothing i could do about it, i felt extremely frustrated and helpless u__u i also went thru a huge identity crisis and felt a lot of imposter syndrome for getting attention for my art when it felt like i was just ripping off the game’s art style. i was constantly consumed and overwhelmed by numbers and engagement as my account grew, i felt bad for drawing anything that wasn’t OMORI because its the fandom that helped me grow a following in the first place. everything combined, i felt very burnt out and my mental health was dropping steadily; i slowly stopped finding joy in art and gradually stopped drawing entirely.

i recently turned 25 and i did miss creating art after being on such a long art hiatus, so i decided to return and come back with a new sense of direction and determination to follow thru w it. i wanted to just stop caring abt numbers and not let it consume me entirely like it did in the past. i wanted to draw and create art for fandoms that inspired me and that i enjoyed, not limiting myself to just one fandom. OMORI will always be one of my art muses and i will continue to create pieces every so often relating to it — but i also want to be able to draw for other interests too!

i may not receive the same enthusiasm and following that i used to have, and my current art style may not appeal to my old audience and that’s ok!! i know my art improvement isn’t the fastest, i’m a very slow learner. i’m taking my own time and pace to enjoy my creative processes and i’m learning to love art and creating again, that’s what matters more to me than some arbitrary numbers.

i hope that provides some insight about my art journey! also, 25 isn’t that old. i’ll let u know when i start turning to dust or something so u can contribute to an urn for me 😌✊

[cringefaecompilation]

DORIAN STORM, ROBBIE DAYMOND, AND THE CRITICAL ROLE FANDOM: AN ADDENDUM

aka: zoinks, scoob! it got worse!

(same disclaimer as before: we’re talking about racism, not how annoying you think xyz white character is or how much you want to punt all xyz shippers into a fire. keep your comments focused on dorian himself; it feels counterproductive when conversations about the racism experienced by actors of color and the fictional characters they play snowballs into shitting on fictional white characters and completely ignoring the former.)

as should be obvious, this is an addition to my other long post about dorian storm's racist treatment by fandom which can be found here. now onto my suffering for the past couple of weeks!

so in my original post, i said the following:

i guess i shouldn’t have jumped the gun on how racist people really could be, huh?

now, i did initially want to discuss the people who immediately assumed dorian would be vocally anti-god upon reuniting with the hells and join the vanguard in that post or wished death on him for abandoning dariax. i was already frustrated at how eager everyone was to jump on that train; there’s certainly something to be said about people wanting him to join the vanguard because it’d be “sexy” which very much ignores the fact it’s a soul-sucking cult that uses emotional manipulation and violence to keep its members in line. why would you wish that upon a character you allegedly like?

but there were enough people who were just happy to see him again to drown them out for the time being and it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before: both orym and laudna had tons of people insisting post episode 63 that they were turning evil and imogen couldn’t have so much as sneezed without people insisting she was a pure evil bitch destined to become the bbeg. maybe this, too, would peter out. and it seemed like it did when everyone was hunky-dory with dorian returning up until episode 102.

the cr cooldown for episode 102 had robbie say that he could see what ludinus was getting at: the gods struck first so ludinus was on some level, justified in his actions and orym’s family just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. he could relate due to seeing melora and lloth basically team up to kidnap opal and maul cyrus to death. fandom went berserk and assumed he would join the ruby vanguard immediately and bell’s hells would need to kill him. usually orym for angst, but i did see a few people who really hated dorian already because of do/rym shippers that wanted imogen to kill him to spite said shippers and prove her innocence. these people legitimately assumed that he would tell orym to his face that his family deserved death because the gods made ludinus sad.

so, what about when the exact opposite happened in canon and orym more or less told dorian that if ludinus hadn’t activated the malleus key, then his brother wouldn’t have had to die by the gods’ hands? or that if his brother had been killed by ludinus or the vanguard, then he wouldn’t care about the gods having done awful things in the past?

the best-case scenario here is that orym overstepped in trying to keep them away from ludinus’ dangerous rhetoric of letting everything burn down out of spite and didn’t think his example through before saying it. the worst-case scenario is that orym told dorian he’s insincerely using his brother’s death as an excuse for ludinus’ fascistic actions and isn’t actually traumatized by it.

eithher way one thing is clear: intent and actions are two very different things. his intentions (prevent his friends from being indoctrinated into a murder cult no matter what) were good but the implicit statement that he does not trust dorian to make the right decision without being herded into it is nothing short of condescending. i can imagine he’ll apologize for this, but as it stands it was an incredibly awful thing for him to say, especially after coming off him realizing how nasty he’d been to laudna in the past few weeks. it hurts even more when you take into consideration that dorian trusts orym as a leader and protector over anybody else and took his side in an argument completely no more than two days ago.

fandom, of course, did not see it that way. from calling him a spoiled brat who sympathized with the evil wizards of aeor instead of the gods because of his royal status (misapplying intersectionality and implying the squall is the same as a fascist mageocracy, ew!) to directly telling him to watch his tone (holy fucking shit) or shut up because he was an idiot that didn’t know what he was talking about.

even “nicer” posts about the situation tried to imply it was all dorian’s fault for not being forthright with everything that had happened to his brother and the crownkeepers and if he’d just done that, orym wouldn’t have been such a jerk. which, if i may crib the tags off @tiredqueermushroom, why do people of color need to explain their motivations in detail when white characters can just insinuate something and their (usually) white fans will headcanon themselves into complacency? and no, he didn’t omit any details or underexplain, both orym and fearne looked miserable after finding out what happened to their old team! they knew damn well what happened and how it affected him! others said that he needed to be educated by all these white people on how great the gods are which is... uh… please read a history book. please.

and this starts to form a pattern: how come deanna was tone-policed and accused of being emotionally abusive for questioning an awesomely being that could vaporize her out of existence but fcg is treated as being completely innocent and kind when he asked the exact same question to another awesomely powerful being? outside of this campaign, how come beau had to be seen sobbing about her abusive family for episodes on end and explain all her motivations in detail before anyone believed her or gave her the time of day outside of characterizing her as an asshole, but caleb was allowed to be self-centered and objective with only his own trauma as an excuse? outside of race, how come astrid becke, a woman groomed beginning at age fifteen was seen as an evil cackling minion to the bbeg, but essek thelyss, a grown man who made the active decision to screw over his entire country out of spite is a sad innocent baby who was tricked by a mean ol’ hubris wizard and has no agency in his actions?

and again, almost none of the fanbase acknowledges he’s native or even that he is a person of color, which makes all of this even more horrific! does your racism really run that deep that even past all your whitewashed headcanons, you see an actor with an ounce of melanin and instantly assume the worst? is it because he's here with his own opinions and a narrative you cannot personally control that makes you uncomfortable?

in the words of the great lou wilson: y’all freaks.

[sepublic]

Writers’ Post-Hoot!

            As the title suggests, we just had a Post-Hoot with multiple writers from the show! Those present included John Bailey Owen, Cissy Jones (Lilith), Sarah Nicole-Robles (Luz), Rebecca Bozza (ItsRebeccaRose), Mikki Crisostomo, Madeleine Hernandez, Zarch Marcus, Avi Roque (Raine), with Zelda Black as our cameraman! I took notes, including on some cancelled storylines involving characters such as Vee, Odalia, Edric, Eda, and Hooty!

         Firstly, Zach Marcus has been writing on the show since the developmental pilot. It was confirmed Barcus was not based on him (unlike Jerbo for JBO), but he did say Barcus was ‘his’ character. I believe it was confirmed that Kikimora’s alias Miki was a reference to writer Mikki Crisostomo, and we also learned that The First Day had to be rewritten within a day! Mikki revealed she got hired for the show because she wrote a violent sample script in which someone had their rib cage kicked out, which convinced Dana she had to be on TOH!

         The development pilot is very different from the show according to Zach; It had the classic blood smear moment (in which Luz draws herself and Amity together, gets a paper cut, and uses her blood to simulate a blush as improv), and alas will never be released. JBO also said there are three poems in the show that the fandom hasn’t found yet…?!

         Dana was watching and commented a few times, such as when Avi, Cissy, and Sarah were doing the classic “Then why were you so easy to curse?!” line, commenting “Legendary Cissy line”.

         In regards to cut Season 3 storylines, Zach mentioned that there are so many versions of Thanks to Them that they went through (Dana gave a comment giving approval for them to speak on concepts). He revealed there was a version where the kids would’ve piloted Abomaton mechs in the desert…?!

         (I wonder if this is related to Kikimora, who pilots an Abomaton herself and comes from the desert of Palm Stings. Would Amity have helped in the creation?)

         Mikki also revealed Hooty was a Big Bad at one point in the writing process?! He’d have had as many legs as rib bones, poking through, as well as smoke.

         Huntlow was acknowledged as a major goal by Mikki and Madeleine (who kept asking why can’t they be happy???), and Zach joked that Huntlow wasn’t canon but c’mon. We can thank Mikki for writing the haircut that Willow gave Hunter!!!

         Dana was glad to keep the Star Trek reference, since so many crew members are Trekkies. Emmy also alluded to a ‘bog setting’ where the kids fought ‘bog bodies’… Unfortunately, her internet connection wasn’t so great so she cut out a bit and I couldn’t make out everything. But does this mean Belos would’ve reanimated corpses in the graveyard for the kids to fight?! Or the Grimwalkers?!

         JBO liked doing Luz in the human realm, as it was a different vibe than usual; More melancholy but also creepy. He wanted to explore the idea of what if a kid DID go to Narnia, and how that would affect them afterwards, and he’s happy with how it turned out… Same JBO, same.

         Emmy revealed there was also going to be a storyline where Vee was uncomfortable with having Hunter in the house!!!

         Sarah mentioned a question in the chat about the other coven heads, which could’ve been my question actually… JBO says that there was a lot they wanted to do with them, he really likes Hettie in particular. He considered exploring what Darius did to achieve his Abomination transform, speculating it’d probably take a dark sacrifice to do that. In general they wanted to see the coven heads plot with and try to kill each other; Lots of intercoven drama according to Zach.

         Zach also praised those who designed the coven heads; He lamented how designers often visualize concepts submitted by writers as so much cooler than the writers think they can do justice when writing, once they receive them back.

         Zach Marcus was described as the pun man of the writers, and when asked about what Darius’ Penstagram, they all agreed upon Goo Daddy. He was torn between Darius being a luddite, or nonstop posting what he eats, with a reflection of him in something. The writers discussed stuff like a Darius skincare routine, and him getting up every morning like a Disney Princess with animals, except they’re Abominations (fanartists were encouraged to depict this).

         JBO said he would’ve liked to see more of young Terra, Zach wanted to see more of her and Faust! As a reminder, a previous Post-Hoot had him put forth the idea that they were exes until they messily broke up and Terra tore off Faust’s lips and kicked him out, hence him living at Hexside and being so strict as a means of regaining a sense of control in his life.

         Zach also joked about everyone dying in the original Season 3 plans, but they allegedly changed it to a happy ending because the pandemic meant people needed something uplifting! They were barely in the exploration for S3 when they received news of the shortening.

         They joked about Barcus episodes, and also made a point about limitations actually being pretty good for writing, as it encourages writers to cut out the fat and leave the most essential bits. They said it was fun seeing Dana write on spite, and she thinks about a lot of the stuff they do for the story as the mastermind.

         Zach revealed him and Dana disagree on Mattholomule’s name, with Zach insisting it’s Mattholomule; His only compromise is saying his last name is also Tholomule… So Mattholomule Tholomule canon??? Zach also wanted a character named Corvus.

         Eda was a ‘horn dog’ in OG scripts for TOH, breaking hearts and all that. There was an episode with a B-plot in which Eda went on a date with playboy merchant, just so she could get a deal on crow heads, but Disney didn’t want a ‘horny old lady’. Dana commented that it was jut Eda on a date, but Disney was being weird about it.

         The writers also mentioned that they considered ‘Mom Tholomule’ and ‘Dad Tholomule’ in what they called the racing episode (I presume Eda’s Requiem’s B-plot), and they planned Steve and Mattholomule being brothers from S1! Zach joked that if the Tholomule parents showed up, they’d have taken attention from everything, with fans losing interest for Lumity, Raeda, and Huntlow in favor of them.

         They brought up their weirdest failed episodes, such as a race (which might be what they meant regarding the Tholomule parents) as well as an episode where Eda and Odalia had beef. It’d have been based on the Rats! musical poster –the one that gave Raine stage fright- and would’ve had musical elements, but alas Dana doesn’t like musicals herself due to her own experiences with them (which might be the Doylist source for Raine’s own trauma as well now that I think of it).

         Odalia would’ve been one of those obsessive parents, entering an Abomination disguised as a child for the role. Edric would’ve been angry and formed a rivalry with this fake child, wanting to be Momma’s Boy, and it’d end with the fake child getting decapitated and their head sliding off as the big reveal.

         When asked about doing ‘Blaine’ (Belos-possessed Raine), Avi explained they didn’t need to watch Rhys to copy Belos’ inflections, having watched the show plenty. They were surprised about the Blaine development when they went in to voice Raine that day and were told about it!

         When asked about favorite characters to write, Zach said he loved Eda because he didn’t need to go into anyone’s headspace when writing her, it was basically just him talking. Madeleine brought up how Matthew Rhys would charm the entire zoom call with his recording, and Emmy mentioned how twice she wrote for a bloodcurdling scream only for a VA to give more of an Ahhhhh.

         Specifically, Edric would’ve had a more bloodcurdling scream when he broke through his body cast to hug Amity (Zach wrote that, Emmy did the art for it), with everyone agreeing he should be in pain. A ‘piercing scream’ was specified, though Sarah joked about how hard VAs worked, and said a bloodcurdling scream might be done for an Oscar nomination (doing such a scream is taxing due to multiple takes).

         Mikki loves writing Lilith, calling her a big dweeb; Madeline loves Hooty the most, as he’s a wild card and she loves writing those. One example she brought up was in Hollow Mind, when Hooty shut down the Owl House. Madeleine loves it when Hooty goes from zero to sixty in either direction, fully insane.

         JBO also liked Hooty best, as well as King! They referenced the B-plot from Adventures in the Elements, in which Hooty negotiates a drawn body for himself from King, which Emmy and JBO wrote. The actual sketch used in the episode was straight-up one of their drawings, I didn’t catch whose though. Hooty’s dialogue in Eda’s conversation with him (from Something Ventured, Someone Framed) was also written by JBO, with Emmy drawing the bit where his tongue reaches for a fly!

        In regards to writing advice, JBO said to just do stuff, it’s better than nothing; Emmy concurred, it’s still worth it to write it, even if nobody pays you for it. Zach added that for writers, one of their goals is to be more of a tool; Get what they’ve made into the hands of someone who can take it further, it’s collaborative storytelling and writers need to see it from that perspective. Likewise, they mentioned having people read what you’ve written, as they can notice stuff that’s missing that you hadn’t thought of/remembered. Zach hoped for a TOH art book, as he liked a lot of Emmy Cicierga’s visual jokes and hoped people could enjoy them! IIRC Emmy did that one meme of Ariel combining her fish tail with two legs as a solution, so that tracks.

         On a final note, there was a HUGE wave of people commenting about Gustholomule throughout the entire stream. It went unacknowledged alas, but the group also mentioned they couldn’t answer spoiler questions so...

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Phantom Grin

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?

Chapters: 14/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

Chapter Fourteen: The Frost

“Indigo?” Jason asked. She giggled and pressed her forehead into his back. The hairs on the back of Jason’s neck stood on end. “Don’t do that!” His head ached, but he wrote it off as stress pain from the scare. 

“Sorry, it seemed like it’d be funny—. Oh, I—. Jason, I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” Indigo whispered as she ran another gentle hand through his hair. “I like you, Jason. I wasn’t lying when I said that.” Jason took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. 

“I’m sorry I yelled… You scared me,” Jason mumbled. His cheeks and ears were crimson with embarrassment. “Did you love him?” 

“No. I knew my ex was cheating when we left… But I needed to get out. Jason, I know that doesn’t make sense to you, but I don’t have regrets. I got to meet you as a result of him screwing up.” 

“What?” Indigo asked.

“Did you love him?” Jason questioned. 

Jason led her to his car. They sat in silence until Jason leaned over and murmured something. “Sorry, I can’t—.” 

“Could I kiss you again?” Jason asked. Indigo nodded, and Jason leaned forward, and he and Indigo shared a kiss. Jason didn’t want to pull away, so they stayed in lip-lock for much longer than Jason’s young lungs could bear. He was forced to pull away to take a hit from his inhaler. Someone knocked on the windows. Jason realized they’d fogged up. He rolled the window down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Officer, I can—. Dad ?” Jason turned toward Indigo, but she was long gone. He never even heard the door open and shut. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing in here?” Bruce asked. 

“She—. I can explain. Nothing happened,” Jason stammered, “I mean—. Something happened, but she disappeared, and now—. It wasn’t like we were doing anything… We were only kissing, but she’s not here, and it looks like I was doing something weird—.” 

“Okay… Do you wanna go to Barbara’s and pick up your stuff so we can go home?” Bruce asked. Jason nodded. Bruce squinted at the windows. “Can I ride with you?” 

“I—. Hold on,” Jason whispered as he looked in the backseat. “Okay.”

“Jason… Are you alright?” Bruce asked. 

Jason lay back and rubbed his palm against his right temple. “My p’ripheral vision’s fading… I fink —. No…” Jason shut his eyes as he tried to pull his words together. “I don’t feel s’good .” 

Bruce turned Jason’s face toward him, and lifted Jason’s eyelids, frowning at the drastic difference in his pupils. “Jason, I’m gonna call 9-1-1—.” 

“No… ‘M fine,” Jason slurred. 

“Smile,” Bruce commanded as he called 9-1-1. Jason smiled without trouble. “Raise your arms above your head.” Jason obeyed, but his left arm wouldn’t cooperate. He struggled to lift his left arm, nearly crying as he fought to make his body obey him. “It’s okay… Jason, it’ll be fine.” Bruce spoke to the dispatcher while he took the keys out of the ignition. Bruce unbuckled Jason’s seatbelt and explained Jason’s symptoms.

**

Jason lay in the CT machine with his eyes shut, trying not to panic with his head in a tight space. “Jason, can you hear me?” a doctor questioned. 

“Mhm,” Jason answered.

“We’re almost done here,” the other doctor replied. It’d been two or three minutes, but it felt like an eternity for Jason. They pulled him out, and he ran his right hand over his face, breathing heavily but not gasping. “Would you like us to grab your dad?” 

Jason nodded, his head tilting to the right, and his head throbbing brutally. “Is it alright if we explain this to your father?” the younger doctor asked. 

Jason nodded, waiting for them to speak to Bruce. If it was bad news, he’d rather hear it from Bruce. So, he allowed the older doctor to help him into a wheelchair while the other left the room. 

“You’re doing great,” she whispered. Bruce entered the room, smiling and nodding as he held Jason’s face in rough but gentle palms. 

“Not a stroke. It’s not a stroke. It’s probably a migraine, so it’ll pass. Jason, it’s okay. I’m gonna sign you out, and we’ll give you your aspirin. Okay?” Bruce smiled. He kissed Jason’s forehead. 

**

Bruce sat outside Jason’s room while he slept, but Cass didn’t offer the same space. She crept into his room and sat beside him. He didn’t stir until hours later. It was dark outside, and Cass opted out of patrol to keep an eye on him. He peeked out of one eye, smiling at her. “You should be out there,” Jason mumbled. 

Cass shook her head. “I should be here,” Cass corrected him. 

“I’m okay now… You can go if you want. I’m sure Dad’s outside, waiting for me to wake up,” Jason whispered. Cass nodded. 

“He is. Do you want me to let him in?” Cass offered. Jason made a soft noise. Cass messed up his hair and left the room. Jason lay there, silently waiting for Bruce to return. He grinned as Bruce’s hand rustled through his curls. 

“How do you feel?” Bruce asked. Jason tried to roll over, but his head started spinning and he pressed his palms to his eyelids.

“I shouldn’t have moved so fast. What happened to me?” Jason mumbled. Bruce pushed Jason’s hair back. 

“They think it’s a migraine. They want us to go in and talk to a specialist to see if it’s genetic,” Bruce explained, “But, I want to talk to you about what happened before that. I um—. I didn’t see anyone leave the car earlier… And the windows were frosted over. Jason, has anyone else seen this girl?” 

Jason reached for the aspirin bottle as he pushed up in bed. “You’re messing with me, right? A little ghost joke for the undead boy ?” Jason questioned. 

“Jason, you know I’d never joke about that. I’m worried about you. Tim said he sat with you the other night, waiting to see the girl you were talking about—.”

Jason gulped water to wash down his aspirin. “Stop… Leave it alone,” Jason muttered. He drank the rest of his water and lay back. 

“Okay… How are you doing?” Bruce asked again.

“I feel disgusting, but my head doesn’t hurt anymore… And I’ve been training constantly,” Jason replied. 

“Is that what you want?” Bruce asked. 

“I do,” Jason replied. 

Bruce sighed. “When you turn eighteen, you can go on patrol with me, but I want you by my side for six months. I’d rather you be by my side than behind my back. I love you, and I won’t lose you again. Is that okay?” Bruce suggested. Jason smiled. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jason answered. 

Bruce felt Jason’s forehead. “Your pupils look better… I got home just in time. I would’ve been beside myself if something happened, and I wasn’t—.” 

“But you were. I’m glad you were there. I’m relieved that you’re here now,” Jason interrupted as he lay down. “I didn’t push him…” 

“What?” Bruce asked. 

“You asked me if I pushed him or if he fell… He fell, but I didn’t try to catch him. I couldn’t move,” Jason mumbled, “I’ve been trying—. I wanted to talk about it in confession, but I felt so guilty.” 

“Jason, that’s over and done. I don’t care about that. What matters is here and now. You’re here right now. I love you, Jason. I love you so much,” Bruce whispered. 

“I love you too… And I don’t wanna disappoint you. I don’t—.” 

“You’re not disappointing me. You’re alive again… You’ve far surpassed any expectations I’ve had for you,” Bruce whispered as he pushed Jason’s curls out of his face. “Get some rest. It’s okay. I’ll be here when you feel better.”

[tyrantonutx]

Hi Tryrantonutx

I so much love the story you posted here. Can I get more of it to read, or this your first story to write?

Thank you!! I'm having a lot of fun writing it and dipping my toes in the Marauder fandom.

Unfortunately this one is my first, so it's not finished yet, but it will be posted on AO3 in full when I'm done with it. This one's coming to me very different than usual -- I'm finding myself writing scenes out of order, rather than linearly, so it seems like I'll be stitching them together at the end lol.

BUT. I did write a little bit of Wolfstar this morning, so have a look! :D

Being something of a kept man had taken years for Remus Lupin to get used to. He was a creature of habits, routines, and building a routine out of nothing – no real requirements of his time – was… challenging. He’d tried to work, and it’d been easier to keep a job when he had only been Sirius Black’s friend and roommate. The press weren’t nearly as interested in him as they had been in the rumors that Sirius and James were dating, and he was happy to blend into the background while James and Sirius dealt with it all. 

But one did not get involved with Sirius Black and stay in the shadows. Honestly, Remus was impressed Regulus had managed it for so long. 

For all of Sirius’s teasing about being the pretty one, the trophy husband to his brilliant Moony, it was Sirius who paid their way for everything, leaving Remus to pursue his interests and play the role of happy house boyfriend while Sirius shone out in the world.

He’d adjusted to the press, was the point, and built himself a happy routine with the house they shared on Grimmauld Place. Regulus would, too, he was sure, but he could empathize with the poor boy’s panic. It was easy too, then, to accept that for the foreseeable future, his lover would come and go by the whims of his little brother’s fits. 

The Brothers Black were, down to their very core, a dramatic pair. 

He hadn’t expected to see Sirius that night at all, in fact, and was curled up on the sofa in the parlor, eyes scanning along the pages of one of his favorite books and enjoying the warmth of the fire in front of him. James had holed himself up in his office to ‘work’, leaving Remus to enjoy his solitude for however long it was granted.

And then, the front door slammed open, banging off the wall (Really must fix that door stopper, he thought to himself) and slamming shut just as loudly. From the foyer and the hallway, Remus listened to the sounds of heavy boots thunking onto the floor by the shoe rack, muffled swearing, and then the door to the parlor slid open. He raised an arm without looking up from his book, making space as his lover climbed onto the sofa, crawled across it to Remus, nudged the book out of the way so he could curl his head up on Remus’s chest, and settled half-in half-out of his lap. Remus dropped his arm around him again, petting along the stretch of his side absently, and turned his page with his thumb.

“Hello, love.”

From where Sirius’s face was burrowed into his chest, only grumbling and whining greeted him.

“Bad lunch, then?” He raised an eyebrow, scanning the paragraph until the end. 

Grunt.

Remus slipped his bookmark into place, closed the book and set it on the table beside the sofa, and curled his other arm around Sirius.

“Padfoot, love.” Remus coaxed, rubbing his back. “What happened, hm?”

With a beleaguered sigh, Sirius turned his head, chin propped against his chest to blink up at Remus. His brow was scrunched in, a little line wrinkling the space between, and he scowled when Remus reached up to smooth it away. 

“I don’t know what to do, moitié.” Sirius said finally, relaxing minutely in his arms as Remus kept petting gently along his forehead and temple. “He’s–” One hand came up, waving frantically in the space beside them. “Bugger. Was I ever this bad 'bout it? Really? I know it was hard at the beginning but, fuck, love, surely not.”

“No.” Remus chuckled. “No, you weren’t. But you love attention, Sirius.” He reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “You live for being the brightest star in the room.” 

“Seulement grâce à ta lumière.” Sirius muttered, almost absently. 

“Regulus doesn’t.” Remus continued, shrugging. “It was always going to be hard, dragging him along behind you. How it happened only made things worse.” 

“Yeah.” Sirius scowled. “She’s fuckin’ fired, by the way. Need to get a new manager for that.” He dropped his head on Remus’s shoulder, scooting up to sit more fully in his lap with a sigh. 

“I’ll see if we know anyone.” Remus offered, kissing the side of his head. “Maybe one of Reggie’s friends.” 

“Yeah.” Sirius muttered with a lazy nod, eyes half-closing. “Someone who’ll treat him like a fuckin’ person.” He scowled again. “Have you seen the shit they’re posting? Moitié, it’s mental!” 

“I haven’t.” Remus admitted. “I remember the worst of it with us.” He snorted softly. “No need to give the vultures money or attention.” Sirius just grumbled, curling up against him. “How was lunch? Really.” 

“Fine.” Sirius muttered, rubbing his eye absently and smearing the kohl along his waterline. “He put on a brave face, we went to the Leaky. Tom got us a private room.” He snorted. “He’s not sleeping. And he’s not talking to anyone, that I got out of him, little shit.” He rolled his eyes. “Says his mates are busy, but I guarantee his phone’s been off or on silent for the last couple days.” 

Remus hummed. “Probably.” He agreed with a nod. “We’ve all got notifications on for you, love, his phone’s probably been going crazy.” 

“Think we should get him a new number?” Sirius frowned, biting at his thumb absently. Remus reached up, plucking the digit from between his teeth and pressing a kiss to the bitten skin. 

“I think you need to relax.” Remus said, tone teasing but no less serious for the jibe. “Reggie’s grown, Sirius. I know you think he’s still a child–”

“He is.” Sirius grumped.

“--But you can’t punch your way out of this one.” Sirius opened his mouth, and Remus raised an eyebrow. “The last thing you need is a scandal.” 

“This is a scandal!” Sirius argued, petulant. 

“This is an unplanned debut of a very talented young man who, if any of your fans are paying attention, will recognize his name anyway.” Remus snorted softly himself. “Love, this was a matter of time. He writes half your songs.” 

“I know.” Sirius sighed. “I told him that, too. He’s… I don’t know. I guess he thought he’d be able to fly under the radar.” He snorted. “As if I’d sing anything like this.” He grumbled a little, picking at Remus’s shirt absently. “You know he’s written like… a whole album, yeah?”

“No.” Remus blinked. “Is he going to record the rest?”

“After this?” Sirius sighed. “I don’t know.” He scowled. “It took me two hours to get him to agree to this, and even then, hell, you saw him. He practically kicked everyone out of the bloody building, wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t know see.” Sirius made a face. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s not meant for this.”

“Maybe.” Remus agreed, shrugging a little. “He’s good, love, but if he’s not happy…” 

“I know.” Sirius grumbled, dropping his head on his shoulder again. “I know. I just…” He sighed. “I want him to see himself how I do, moitié. He’s so bloody talented. People love him, like I knew they would! He’s so bloody scared of the attention, it  doesn’t matter that it’s good attention.” 

Remus hummed, rubbing his thumb along Sirius’s wrist lightly as he watched Sirius speak. 

“Neither of you have a great history with attention, love.” Remus broached gently. “You’ve gone in separate ways about it. You seek it out. He hides from it.” He blew out a breath. 

“Cheers to the Ancient and Noble House of Black.” Sirius said with another scowl, glaring a little at nothing. “Left us with bare coffers and mental trauma.” Remus smiled wanly, kissing his wrist lightly. 

“And you built it back up. You and him both. I’m proud of you both, you know. As scared as he is, he did something brave anyway.” Remus shrugged. “He just needs… time.” 

Sirius sighed at that, dropping his head on his shoulder and pouting. “But–” 

“Time, love.” Remus clucked his tongue at him. “And maybe less of his brother watching his every move.” He smirked a little. “Let him breathe, get his bearings. If it goes on too long, fine, we’ll drag him out.” He smirked at the snort from Sirius. 

“Call him later, will you?” Sirius asked, bringing their hands up so he could nuzzle against Remus’s palm. “You know what this shit’s like, and you don’t like it any more than he does. Might help.”

“Sure.” Remus promised, nodding. “I’ll call Barty, too. See if he’s in town yet.” 

“If I can’t babysit Reggie, why d’you think Barty’ll get to?” Sirius grumbled. 

“Because Barty is his best mate, not his brother.” Remus chuckled. “You’re smothering when you worry, love.” He crooned, kissing the top of his head. Sirius folded into it with more grumbling and growls of complaint. “Trust me, yeah?”

“Oui, alright.” He sighed. Sirius went boneless and slack against Remus then, tucking his head against his neck. “Thanks, love.”

“Mm.” Remus plucked his book up again, kissing where he could reach Sirius's head and shoulder. “Let me read for a bit?” He muttered, petting Sirius lightly with his free hand. “Then you can bother James about his TikTok history.”

“What ‘bout it?” Sirius rumbled.

“He’s found the Reggie Black thirst edits.” 

“Oh, brilliant.”

[lesbicosmos-writes]

chapter 2 of my palasaki fic is finally up!!

summary: the boys put their plan into action... notes: oops apologies chapter 2 has taken so long, i got caught up getting everything written for payneland week and then started planning my own event so...yeah this fandom has me going insane so happy i'm finally back with this fic tho, i love writing these two SO much

chapter 2

The next day, the girls didn’t take a rest day. Well, they had turned up to the office in the mid-afternoon with the intention of continuing work, but no new clients had shown up, so everyone was simply lounging around the office. Niko and Edwin were sat at the desk watching Scooby Doo on Niko’s laptop, sharing her earphones, While Charles and Crystal sat on the tiny sofa. Crystal was mindlessly scrolling on her phone, while Charles was bouncing a tiny ball at the opposite wall.

“I’m bored,” Charles groaned dramatically.

This was all part of the plan, but it wasn’t a lie. He enjoyed a chilled-out day as much as anyone else, but this was just getting dull.

“We’ve really got to do something as a group that isn’t a case, ‘cause whenever we finish one you guys are too tired to do anything else.”

“I mean I’m up for a group outing if you’ve got any ideas,” said Crystal, looking up from her screen.

Niko and Edwin both removed their earphones.

“Lucky for you guys, we just finished an episode,” Niko grinned.

“You’re right, Charles, we should do something. We should go out!”

“Go out where, though?” Crystal asked.

“Well, if we don’t want to do anything too physically strenuous after last night, we could always go into the town for the evening. We could go to a restaurant!” Edwin suggested, glancing towards Charles, who was smiling at him.

The plan was beginning.

“Would you two really wanna come with, though? I mean…you can’t eat, going to a restaurant seems kind of pointless,” Crystal reminded them.

“It’s not about the food, Crystal!” said Charles. “It’s about spending time with friends!”

“And I’d love to spend time with you guys, but in a public place where people are gonna notice us talking to the air? I’m fine with weird looks on the street, but surrounded by people sitting down, that’s different.”

Ah. That was one part of the plan the boys hadn’t thought of. Sure, they weren’t actually going to be joining them, but they weren’t going to know that.

“Well, if we go to the Italian round the corner from the library, they’ve got booths that are kind of tucked away in corners,” Charles suggested.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you really miss spaghetti?” Niko giggled.

“Okay, you got me there, but it does have tables that are kind of hidden away, it’d be perfect!”

Crystal seemed hesitant.

“Well, I’m up for it!” Niko said excitedly.

And how could Crystal say no to that face?

“Sure, I guess. Want me to reserve a table?” she asked, already pulling her phone back out and searching for the restaurant.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Charles, trying to hide a satisfied smile.

“Wait! Don’t reserve it too early, I need to get ready!”

“Niko, you look great as you are,” Crystal said.

“Oh I know, but there’s this one outfit I’ve got that I’ve been wanting to wear for ages,” she explained, dragging out her voice on the last word.

“Should we say 7pm then?” Edwin offered. “That gives Niko chance to get ready, and for everyone to get there.”

“Sure.”

“Niko, are you nearly ready?” Crystal knocked on the door of the room Niko was staying in for the week. “It’s nearly, 6:40, we’re gonna be la…”

Crystal’s voice trailed off as the bedroom door opened, and Niko stood before her. She was in a monochromatic outfit: red wide-leg trousers with a sheer red collared shirt that allowed the thin-strapped top she was wearing underneath to be visible too. Her make-up matched the outfit, as it always did – red graphic eyeliner drawn into tiny perfectly-shaped hearts at the outer corners of her eyes.

“What do you think?” she asked, doing a little spin in front of Crystal, who was really trying not to stare in awe.

“Niko, you look…” Crystal tried to come up with an adjective that didn’t give away the truth of her thoughts. She couldn’t think of one, so she settled on the one she thought sounded the most casual. “You look so pretty! The red is amazing.”

“I figured you’d be in purple, so I thought this would match a bit!”

Niko had been right – Crystal was wearing her purple mesh top and black dungarees, and had her purple coat ready to put on when they left. They’d certainly be a bright-looking pair, that was for sure.

“Anyway,” Niko started, leaning behind the door to grab her white chucks. Rather than sitting on the bed or the sofa to put the shoes on, she simply sat on the ground where she was, earning a quiet chuckle from Crystal. “We’d better go, wouldn’t want to keep the boys waiting!”

They grabbed their coats on the way out of the flat and left for the restaurant.

As it turns out, they needn’t have stressed at all about being late because of the boys – they were nowhere to be seen when they arrived. They were led to their table, a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, out of view of most of the other tables. And, there was a huge mirror on the wall above it. Crystal assumed that’s where the boys would come from, when they finally showed up.

They’d been seated for ten minutes, and had just put their food order in, and there was still no sign of Charles and Edwin.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Niko said, excusing herself from the table and heading to the opposite side of the room.

Crystal nodded at her, trying to subtly look around the whole restaurant, checking they really weren’t there. ‘They’ve probably gotten distracted with each other’ she had been thinking, when she was scared out of her skin by Charles leaning out of the mirror.

“Fucking hell!” she hissed, one hand over her chest in shock.

“Oops, sorry,” Charles apologised.

“Where the fuck are you guys? We said 7!” she said, not much louder than a whisper.

She knew no one could hear her, but it was still awkward talking to someone she knew no one else could see, especially since Niko wasn’t there. Charles just chuckled.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Charles. What have you done?”

“Hey, I haven’t done anything!”

“Well you’ve got the scheming smile on your face so you’re up to something.”

“Okay fine. This was a set-up.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Edwin and I were never gonna come, we just tried to get you guys to go somewhere so you could…y’know…” Charles smirked.

“So we could what, Charles?”

“Y’know! Talk!”

Crystal closed her eyes and sighed in realisation.

“This is your payback?”

“Yep! And oh look, she’s coming back! Have fun,” Charles winked as he retreated back into the mirror.

Crystal groaned, mentally cursing him, as Niko approached the table.

“Are you okay? Was that Charles I saw?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said. “They’re not coming.”

“Awh! Why not?”

“Uhh,” Crystal tried to come up with a lie. “They had a case come up.”

“Oh! Should we go help them? We can do this another night,” Niko turned towards the exit, but Crystal grabbed her wrist.

Niko looked down at where their skin touched, then back up at Crystal. When Crystal made eye contact with her, she let go immediately.

“No, they’ll be fine without us for one case. And we’ve ordered now, we should just enjoy our evening.”

“Okay. Yeah, I was looking forward to having a bit of a break,” Niko laughed as she sat back down. “We deserve it.”

Niko was clearly tired. Was Crystal really about to bring up her feelings and stress her out even more? She knew it probably wasn’t the best time, but when else was she going to do it? Sure, she was a tiny bit annoyed at Charles for the deception, but him and Edwin had practically set up a date for them, so it would be a shame to miss the opportunity.

She’d decided: she was going to do it.

She hadn’t done it.

They’d nearly finished their food by now, and Crystal still hadn’t figured out how to bring the topic up without shocking Niko. She’d been fidgeting in her seat the entire time, and Niko had noticed.

“Crystal, are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Crystal hadn’t fully heard her, too lost in her own thoughts. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“Is it about Charles and Edwin? You don’t have to worry, they’ll be fine! Like you said, they can handle one case without us, they’ve done it more than enough times before.”

“I know, it’s not about them.”

“It’s about something, then?”

Despite not caring what most thought about her, Niko really was amazing at reading people. This was her chance, Crystal supposed.

“There’s…there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Okay. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know,” Crystal smiled. “It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “Since…everything…I’ve been thinking, and I’ve realised some things.”

Niko nodded. She didn’t say anything, didn’t interrupt her. She was good like that. She could tell when a response was wanted and when people just needed to say what was on their mind.

“It's not like I hadn't thought about it, like, I’d had a bit of a moment before, but then, nearly losing you when we fought Esther, it really made me realise…”

Crystal was fidgeting with her hands again on top of the table, twisting a ring around her finger and not looking directly at Niko. Her hands started to shake slightly at the memory of Niko lying there on the ground, blood seeping from the wound on her chest and staining her shirt, eyes staring at her, glazed over, unblinking. Crystal couldn’t bear to think about what would have happened if it weren’t for that lucky bear Mick had given her. It had slowly closed the wound. She had still lost a lot of blood, and it took a while for her to recover, but she did. And now she was here in this restaurant with Crystal, who was desperately trying to put words together into sentences.

Niko had clearly noticed her shaking, and took her hands in her own, holding them tightly and smiling in encouragement.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Crystal finally said, looking up at Niko.

Niko let go of her hand, her eyes widening in surprise.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Crystal apologised, moving her hands towards herself, away from Niko. “Sorry if I made things weird.”

“No!” Niko said, louder than she had intended. She reached out and took Crystal’s hands once more. “No, that was…I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh.”

“In a good way. I…I never thought you’d feel the same.”

Crystal’s jaw dropped slightly.

“You…you feel the same?”

“Yes!” Niko said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Crystal couldn’t do anything but laugh softly, and Niko joined her.

“So…” Crystal started. “Does this mean you’ll be my…girlfriend?” She had her head tilted downwards slightly, looking up at Niko curiously through her eyelashes. It was so awkward, but in perhaps the best way possible. This was the first time she’d ever felt awkward asking someone out, and it felt more right than anything.

“Obviously!”

“Charles, I really do think we should give them some privacy,” said Edwin, standing in front of the mirror back at the office.

“I just wanna see how it’s going!” Charles argued. “Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t wanna be a fly on the wall for this.”

Charles raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling in that specific way he knew Edwin couldn’t resist. Edwin sighed in defeat.

“Okay, I’ll admit I am intrigued. But I still do not think we should disturb them.”

“We won’t, I’ll just open the mirror connection.”

Charles raised his hand towards the mirror, and Edwin nodded. Charles closed his eyes, picturing the mirror in the restaurant, and tapped the surface. The mirror seemed to ripple, still faintly showing the reflection of the office behind them but more importantly revealing the image of the two girls at their table. They sat opposite each other, both beaming with joy. They seemed to be playing with each other’s hands on top of the table, interlocking their fingers.

“Do you think it went well?” Edwin asked, whispering even though he knew they couldn’t hear them through the mirror.

“I think so! Oh, this is aces.”

They kept watching as a waitress walked over to their table. They let go of each other as Crystal paid for their meals, then they both stood up.

“Should we head home?” Crystal asked, her voice quiet and sounding vaguely as though underwater from where Edwin and Charles were stood.

She held her hand out to Niko, who, instead of taking it, leapt forwards out of the booth and hugged her tightly.

“Sorry, just had to,” she giggled as she stepped back, intertwining her fingers with Crystal’s. "Yeah, let's go home."

“Yes!” Charles cheered triumphantly, swinging his arm around Edwin’s neck and kissing his cheek in excitement.

“I’m glad our plan worked out for them,” Edwin said. “Now, let’s leave them be.”

“Alright,” Charles laughed, tapping the mirror to revert it back to its original reflective properties.

[herefortheships]

"Evil" Yuji Itadori Theory is not as insane as you think

So today I was thinking about this new viral theory in the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom about Yuji turning evil or "crashing out" after he realizes Yuta is using Gojo's body to fight Sukuna, another plan of which he was not made aware of. And while it might seem like a far-fetched, unlikely theory, it does make sense if Yuji's story ends up going in that direction, as insane as it may appear to some fans.

(Let me preface by saying: Obviously this is speculation and theorizing; no need to get heated if you don't agree with this post. Not agreeing is totally okay! If you don't want to read about this theory/speculation/character analysis, you don't have to. Just scroll past this. 💜)

In this post I'm going to expand on a comment I used to explain why some fans think this is going to happen or, like myself, at least like this theory. My comment went like this:

"[Yuji could crash out] because he’s witnessed so many deaths of those he loves, back to back, plus he’s lost his friend to Sukuna, and this friend wouldn’t even let him save him (Yuji wasn’t enough to save Megumi despite their friendship and all their efforts and all that was going on), and now he is seeing Yuta use Gojo’s body, plus the sacrifices he himself has had to make like eating his own brothers. It would be understandable if he crashes out and wants to end it all, Jujutsu sorcerers included.

He’s seen his friends and even himself become a monster, he’s lost people he loved and has no family left (except for Sukuna, but Yuji doesn’t know that, plus, it’s Sukuna). Seeing Gojo’s body being used as a weapon and by one of his friends on top of it, who, if his brain has been swapped like this, is likely to die or lose his original body forever, that might be the last straw for Yuji to finally lose it.

He’s a noble and kind soul, but even the kindest most patient people have a limit, and Yuji might finally have reached it.

In the end, it would even be the most believable plot twist this manga would pull. That said, it’s VERY unlikely Gege would go there, but it isn’t like shounen manga hasn’t seen the main character go through a villain arc. AoT did it really well. I believe it’d be a dark ending but a fitting one if Yuji ends up as the Sukuna of his generation, if he ends up the strongest who sacrificed everything. It’s all just theories though and very unlikely, but still interesting to discuss."

Now, to expand on these points:

Yuji has seen friends with whom he was finally finding a home after the death of his grandfather die brutal deaths one after the other right before his eyes. These were people who took him in and gave him a chance after he found himself alone in life. As far as we know, Yuji didn't have where to go after his grandfather's death, as far as family goes. And he had to move to Tokyo when he ate Sukuna's finger. He had to leave the friends he had and the life he knew completely. Yuji now has lost the mentors who were guiding him and giving him a sense of security in this new Jujutsu world he suddenly found himself in. Mentors like Gojo and Nanami were to Yuji almost like "uncle" or "fatherly" figures in a sense. As a matter of fact, without Gojo, Yuji would have been killed, so Gojo is not just a mentor but also someone to whom Yuji owes his life.

Then there came the loss of the closest friend he made in this new Jujutsu world. He lost Nobara. Listen, Gege Akutami can tell me in this story over and over that Megumi is Yuji's most important friend, but the writing is showing me something different. The story has shown me that Nobara was the one Yuji was closest to. Unless the Gege just wanted to make a distinction between best friend, giving that role to Megumi, and love interest, giving that role to Nobara, but that's up to interpretation. He saw Nobara get killed by the very same monster who killed Nanami right in front of him, in the very same night. If it wasn't for Todo, Yuji would not have made it out of Shibuya alive. As a matter of fact, if he wasn't killed, maybe Sukuna would have taken hold of him permanently right there and then, and then all he had to do was find Megumi and transfer without Yuji being capable of doing anything to stop him. Mahito might have failed at killing him, but that night of October 31st permanently altered Yuji's soul.

But Yuji's will is strong and unshakable, something that has perturbed even Sukuna himself. Yuji has suffered through great losses, over and over, and has even been the tool by which a massacre was committed, and yet, he still tries; he still moves forward and doesn't succumb to the suffering. It's one of the reasons Sukuna absolutely loathes Yuji: he could never break him. I also head-canon that Sukuna hates Yuji because he was forced to experience love through him, while trapped inside Yuji's body, but I guess we still have to see the love theme play out in the story to rule that one out. Who will teach Sukuna about love? Yuji already has, but Sukuna has yet to figure that one out. Yuji is technically his nephew, will that play into this theme before the end? That's entirely another post, though.

Even losing his friend Megumi to Sukuna did not take down Yuji; on the contrary, he unleashed more power than Sukuna expected him to have and faced him by himself.

But then, December 24th arrived, and it was time to face Sukuna in the flesh. The plan was to save Megumi's soul and take out Sukuna. Satoru Gojo was the first contender, and while Gojo was the strongest sorcerer of his time, he was to face the most brutal, most powerful and evil sorcerer of all time. Not to mention they gave him a full month heads-up. Oops... And while there was a hope placed in Gojo to finish this, as he always did, there was also a silent knowledge that this might be too big of a task even for him. Not only was Sukuna the most powerful sorcerer just by himself, he had also absorbed into himself one of the most powerful techniques of all: the Ten Shadows, a power that once took out a member of the Gojo clan with the very same abilities Satoru Gojo was born with. Gojo would be facing a Ten Shadows user fused with the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Contingency plans were made in the event that he was defeated, some of which, to keep it a secret from Sukuna, had to be kept secret from Yuji.

Did Yuji know some plans would be kept from him? Or is he just finding out they kept things from him, right there in the battlefield?

What Yuji did know was that his role was going to be to separate Megumi's soul from Sukuna; to save Megumi as everyone took Sukuna down. And he managed to touch Megumi's soul and talk to him! But what did Megumi do? Megumi refused to be saved. Yuji's friendship was not enough; Yuji's words were not enough; Yuji's and everyone's efforts were not enough. Megumi wasted it all, despite the fact that his friends, mentors (including Gojo, who was Megumi's benefactor and pretty much his adoptive father!) were falling dead one after the other through Sukuna. In the end, for Megumi, there was only one person that mattered, and that was his sister. With her gone, Megumi lost his will to live, and Yuji had to see his remaining closest friend choose death over being saved.

Next Yuji saw more of his colleagues die or get potentially mortally wounded. Higuruma, Kusakabe, Yuta were all injured too badly to keep fighting, or were killed. Even though Sukuna was already handicapped by this point after fighting Gojo, having lost half of his hands and ability to use reverse curse technique, he still was capable of casting a Domain Expansion, and so, the person Yuji lost next was his blood brother, Choso. Choso gave his life for his younger brother, and died right in front of Yuji. One more horrific death Yuji had to witness right in front of him. Once again, if it wasn't for the arrival of Todo right in the perfect moment, Yuji would have collapsed right there.

Choso was his only family left, and they had just recently found each other and started to bond; Yuji, by all effects, is now alone in this world. At least, he still has a few friends around him to keep him from falling apart.

But.

Lots of people in the fandom have been commenting "Yuji hasn't spoken a word since Choso died". That is incorrect, since Yuji has asked where everyone is after Sukuna used Fuga, and he might have also said something to Todo as well, I don't remember. Maybe what they mean is that Yuji has been different since Choso's death and what we did see him say was this short statement: he declared that he was going to destroy Sukuna's heart, as he was clawing his hand right into Sukuna's chest. His eyes looked wild and ready to do exactly as he intended.

And that's when they were interrupted by Yuta, using Gojo's body just like Kenjaku used the bodies of dead people to further his plans.

Listen, even the kindest, most compassionate person has a limit. With everything I have described in this post that Yuji has experienced, and his current state of mind, is it truly that far off to conclude that Yuji might have reached his limit? And we're talking about a powerful half-human, half-curse (Yuji was pretty much a result of Kenjaku's experiments plus now he possesses Sukuna's cursed energy and the abilities and qualities he gained by holding Sukuna's soul and eating the cursed wombs). Yuji is someone who has latent potential within him similar to Sukuna's. After all he's gone through at this point, is it that far-fetched to consider that he might lose his mind and choose to go the darkest path? After seeing Yuta use Gojo's body as a tool, just like Kenjaku used Yuji's mother's body as a tool to create him, used Geto's body to cause so much chaos.

Yuji would NEVER harm or kill his friends, this wouldn't happen, but what happens when he's lost everyone? What happens when the few that are left are doing something so inhumane and monstrous to take out Sukuna? How different are they from someone like Kenjaku or Sukuna? Who is right and who is wrong? What happens when he realizes he is just like them as well, being a product himself of the Jujutsu world, having done a monstrous thing in eating his own brothers. Everything in the Jujutsu world is messed up! Not just the curses, but the sorcerers as well. What happens when, most harrowingly, Yuji realizes that this entire situation with Sukuna is, in part, a result of his actions (eating Sukuna's finger that night at the school)?

Yuji has lived through enough horrible experiences that him crashing out not only makes sense, but is also expected. As unlikely as it would be for Gege to give Yuji a villain arc however short it might be as the series reaches its end.

Yuji choosing to end not just the curses, but also the Jujutsu Sorcerers; choosing to end it all. If Yuji gets such a dark twist in this story, given all that he's lived through, plus his potential in power and his soul connection to Sukuna himself, it wouldn't be far-fetched or out of character; at this point, it would completely make sense.

It is very unlikely something like Yuji having a villain arc will happen, but we cannot say that this theory has no basis in the canon. In fact, depending on how it's handled by Gege, this could be the most logical plot twist to come out of this story as it reaches its ending.

Yuji would end up as the Sukuna of his generation, especially if the ending with him standing alone in the end is the one Gege chooses to write.