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marvelouslizzie · 6 months

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Why Are You Doing This To Me?

summary: Your ex-boyfriend Bucky Barnes wrote two songs about (for) you and you don’t know what to do.

pairing: Ex!Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

warnings: Angst, a past failed relationship, pettiness, jealousy, anger, a lot of emotions, no mention of y/n.

word count: 2.3K

A/N: I have been away for a while because I was busy learning another language aka Dutch. I still am but at least I am done with my big exam. As soon as I was done with it, I found myself writing again.

This is a random idea that just popped into my head while listening to music and taking a walk. Pure angst for some reason. Usually, I go for smutty ideas but bear with me.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing this so fast ❤️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Keep reading tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

>> Hey! I know you don’t want to hear anything about Bucky, but I think you should check these out. I think he wrote these songs for you.

Two links from Spotify follow the text you received from one of your best friends, and you stare for a while, trying to decide what to do. You really don’t want to hear his voice. Not because you don’t like his singing or his songs, but you wanted to get back on your feet. It would be impossible if you kept listening to his songs. Besides, hearing his voice has always softened you. And your best friend knows this. She knows a lot about your relationship, how everything went down, and how you two eventually broke up. If she didn't think you should listen to these songs, she wouldn't be sending you these links, right?

You take a deep breath and click on the first link. The song starts to play, and you notice the soft vibe right away. It’s not particularly Bucky’s style. He sounds like he’s in pain but he's singing with such clarity that surprises you.

He talks about how much he regrets the things he didn’t do when he was with you. How he misses you so much every day. How much he wants to call you, but he’s afraid that you won’t pick up the phone or worse, you will talk to him like a stranger. He says he always knew how precious you were, yet he took you for granted.

The lyrics flow flawlessly. It sounds like poetry to your ears. The way he expressed himself so beautifully… You can’t believe he wrote such a heartfelt song about you, and it’s not even his style. He’s a freaking rockstar. He usually writes about sex, rock and roll, and drugs. Not feelings. Then the song finally reaches the chorus and his words make you freeze.

“You are the love of my love.”

Did he really just say that? Did he just call you the love of his life? You feel this rush of emotions, and it’s hard to distinguish what you are actually feeling. It makes it harder to think, harder to focus on anything else other than the fact that this song is for you. That’s when you notice the name of the song. It’s the Love of My Life.

Suddenly, you start to feel angry. Every other emotion just takes a backseat. You hate him. So fucking much! Why is he always like this? Saying everything a little too late. Was it so hard for him to tell you this when you wanted to find just one reason to stay with him? You begged him to communicate with you maybe a million times. He always said it was not easy for him to put his feelings into words. Good or bad. It didn’t matter. He always struggled with his emotions. You tried your best. You tried to show him that he could trust you, that you would always be there for him, but it didn’t matter in the end. You felt like you were the only one trying to make this relationship work.

That’s when you decided to give up. It felt like he just didn’t care enough. He didn’t put any effort into changing things or making you feel like you weren’t just beating a dead horse.

You hoisted the white flag and moved on with your life. That’s when he decides to put whatever he feels into words. Instead of talking to you, he makes a song about it. Then he puts it out into the world.

What a fucking asshole!

It takes you a while to realize the song is over as the silence fills the room. As much as you hate how he chose to do this, the silence disturbs you. It might be a little too late, but you still want to hear what he has to say. Your own rules about not listening to any of his songs instantly go out the window.

You open the messaging app and click on the second link. This one sounds a little bit more like his usual style. The name of the song though, instantly catches your attention this time. It’s one of the nicknames he used often for you.

He starts the song by saying that he knows how selfish he is. That he has no right to feel this way, but he just saw you with someone else and he hated how it made him feel. He talks about how jealous he is. How he can’t help but imagine you in that guy’s arms. Then he realized you might call him baby, just like you used to call him. Then he continues by begging you not to call him baby, how he wants you to save that pet name for him even though he’s not in your life anymore.

There are so many details throughout the song that indicate he’s talking about you, there is no mistaking. He calls you by your nickname, saying how he loves the way you talk passionately about your interests, how compassionate you are, and how much effort you put into maintaining your relationship but he was too stupid and pathetic to appreciate them.

Every word that comes out of his mouth makes you even angrier. How dare he? How dare he write a song like this for you? After everything you have been through, after all the effort you put into your relationship, after every heartbreak… He realizes how much he values you just because he saw you with someone else.

Selfish bastard!

He has no right to put these words out there. He has no right to feel jealous. You are not his anymore. You can call someone else baby if that’s what you want. How dare he try to dictate to you like this? It makes you wanna call someone up and go out on another date and call him baby, just in spite.

The problem is, it’s just your stubborn nature talking. Before this song, you didn’t even think about calling someone else baby. You didn’t feel like it. Subconsciously, you were reserving that pet name for him. And that fucker knew it. He just knew it!

You exhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. The song is over, but you can still hear him singing in your head. The song is so beautiful. Petty but so fucking beautiful. He sounds like he poured his heart out without caring how vulnerable it makes him look.

Another deep breath, you try to understand which date he is talking about. You have been on a couple of dates since you two broke up. You were so dedicated to moving on. You didn’t care if it would hurt him. Because he didn’t care about how much he hurt you all those times you tried your hardest to make things work. So you went out with a couple of gentlemen. Some of them were decent, and some of them were downright horrible. Dating is just as tedious as you remembered. A lot of assholes out there who don’t care who they are hurting. You didn’t get hurt, though. You didn't care enough about any of them to give them the power to hurt you.

Then it finally hits you. He’s talking about your date with that motherfucking movie star! That one was big news for a while. You got photographed two, maybe three times together.

You really looked like you were having fun in those photos. Truthfully, you were, he was such a funny guy. He knew how to make fun of himself. You were just so tired of pretentious asses. It was refreshing. That’s why you said yes to a second and a third date. Then he was off to a European country to shoot his next movie. You had a fun and it was more than enough for you.

You precisely remember that tabloids started to talk about how perfect you two were for each other. God, that must have gotten under his skin. You can’t help but laugh. He’s so predictable. He just couldn’t bear to see you with someone else, but can you blame him?

You remember seeing something similar about him, but in that case, he wasn’t on a date with the girl. They were just working together for some lame-ass project he would normally despise. Maybe he was trying to keep himself busy, who knows? You remember so vividly how she was looking at him like she wanted to eat him up. As if that wasn’t enough, she kept praising him, calling him the best rockstar of the century just to get in his pants. You have no idea if it worked or not, but it was enough to make you feel jealous. So can you blame him for feeling the same?

It just makes you realize you want to listen to those songs again. It’s maybe too little too late but you still want to hear him. You wanted him to talk about his feelings for such a long time and he’s finally doing it. Through a song but still, he’s doing it. It isn’t exactly communicating because communication must be two-sided, right? That’s what was missing in your relationship. You were talking, pleading, trying while he was keeping everything in. You feel like the roles are reversed. Now he’s the one talking, pleading, and trying, and you just don’t know what to do. How the tables have turned.

The second time around, you notice other details you missed the first time. Like peaceful walks you took together whenever you had the time or how you always used fake names when you two traveled together. You can’t help but miss those days. Even though you had problems, being with him always felt so safe and peaceful. You have no idea how he managed to make you feel that way. Maybe that’s why it took you so long to end the relationship. You still miss the way you felt back then. As if you two could overcome anything together, yet you couldn’t. Because you didn’t work together. You were alone, struggling to make him talk.

Then he talks about how he still speaks to your friends, and that makes him miss you even more. That part surprises you because none of your friends mentioned that they were still seeing Bucky. Is that because you didn’t let them ever talk about him? You feared if you let yourself talk or think about him, you would go back to the point zero.

He ends the song saying he doesn't want you to be a distant memory, and this sticks with you. Do you want him to be a distant memory?

The second time you listen, you notice how desperate he sounds. The way he pleads doesn’t anger you anymore. You find something you feel in his words. Your own fears, your own selfishness and oh, how much you miss him. You didn’t let yourself admit that you miss him. You thought acting like he never existed, he was never a part of your life would make everything easier and it did. Just for a while. Lately, it was just a burden. You tried so hard to keep everything inside. Just like he did. You are still trying to do it… to act logically, not emotionally. Does it mean you are making the same mistake he did? Shutting yourself down, not talking about your feelings. Is it the solution or is it a part of the mistake? You can’t tell anymore. You just know that your heart is aching. The sound of his voice makes you want to cry.

God, you hate him so much!

How could he do this to you after all this time?

Is it that easy to get under your skin or was he always there?

You feel like you are about to explode because of all the emotions you are going through. On one hand, Bucky communicating with you is everything you wanted. On the other hand, isn’t it too late? And why did he write not one but two songs about you? Declaring his love to the world…

You repeat that last bit in your head. He’s declaring his love to the world.

He’s no longer afraid to talk about his emotions. He wants you to hear them, millions of other people are just the bonus. He’s not afraid to show how fucking miserable he feels. He just wants you back.

He’s doing his bit in communicating, but unless you don’t do something about it, it won’t matter. It will be another attempt in vain. You aren’t sure if you want to repeat the same pattern. You notice the song is over when your phone chimes. It’s your best friend again.

>> Did you listen?

<< Yeah.

>> How are you feeling?

<< Confused.

<< Are you still talking to him?

>> Yeah we all are.

<< Why didn’t you tell me that?

>> You said you didn’t wanna hear anything about him and we just respected your decision.

Just like you thought. You can’t blame them. Anytime someone mentioned anything remotely related to Bucky, you either changed the subject or found a reason to leave. So you can’t help but wonder…

<< How is he doing?

>> Not great. He misses you.

<< I miss him too.

>> Are you gonna call him?

You look at the message for a long minute. Are you gonna call him? That’s the question. Maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn’t. Both of the options sound equally wrong. You have no idea what to do.

<< I don’t know what to do.

>> Just give him a call. He’s the love of your life.

You have no idea how long you have looked at that text. Maybe for a couple of minutes, maybe for an hour.

He’s the love of your life.

He’s a bastard, but he really is the love of your life.

And you are the love of his life.

Where do you go from here? You look at your phone once again. You finally know what to do.

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animehideout · 2 months

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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 10

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

check out part 11 here ✨🆕

W.c: 3.4K+

not proofread ⚠️

a/n : Hi everyone, I'm back with another part yaaay, I hope you enjoy it. I need a good cry so I wrote this, where are my Angst enthusiasts at? this part is for you, but no worries I'll make it up for you I promise 😭🩵.

Music Suggestion 🎧 I highly recommend The Neighborhood - Softcore to match the sadness 🥲

You gradually regained your consciousness; you felt a dull throb in your head. You blinked slowly, struggling to focus, your surroundings initially a blur of shapes and colors that gradually sharpened into clarity.

You tried to move, to rub your temples but your heart beats quickened when you realized you were bound to a chair, your limbs securely tied with coarse ropes. Panic surged through your veins, your eyes widening as you struggled against your restrains, each tug to break free was met with resistance. Ropes tightly wrapped around your wrists and legs, a burning sensation, only serving to deepen your sense of helplessness.

“Fuck, fuck” you muttered.

Breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling in wild rhythm. You scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of escape. But there was none, and you found yourself trapped in a nightmare worse than your reality.

Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the silence, coming from behind. A tone that sent shivers down your spine,

“No need to struggle princess”

The words dripped with menace. You were too scared to look behind not knowing what to face. You bit your lips that were quivering. From the shadow, he emerged. With hesitation you looked up to see the tall figure that concealed the dim light from you. His muscles taut beneath his shirt, a sly, dirty smirk tugged at the corners of his scarred lips. His dark black hair fell on his face gracefully, looking directly at your soul with his narrowed eyes. for a split second, you thought it was a more aggressive version of Megumi.

His presence, the way he stood in front of you, looking down at you sent a chill to your whole nervous system, making your breath hitch up.

“W-who are you? What am I doing here?”

He reached to grab your chin with his long fingers, forcing your head up to look at him.

“Shh-hh, don’t ask questions! Lemme introduce myself first” he paused, bringing another chair and sat right in front of you. “I’m sure you’ve heard about me…they probably warned you, I’m-”

“You’re Toji Zenin?!” you interrupted him

With a mocking tone, he leaned forward and said,

“I go by Fushiguro now! So don’t say Zenin ever again…so? Did you sleep well”

You stayed frozen in place, each inhale felt like shards of glass scraping down your throat. Consumed by fear, realizing that the man who’s been searching for you all around Tokyo, just to take your life away finally found you and was comfortably sitting in front of you. Your world narrowed, maybe it’s the end.

*flash back*

With a heavy weight in your heart, you left Jujutsu High in the dread of the night. Spending the night stargazing in the balcony wasn’t enough; you wanted to get completely detached so you left for some fresh air away, far away from Gojo. The echo of what Gojo said to you still ringing in your ears. “you failed your family and now you’re failing everyone else in Jujutsu High” those words never left your mind.

“He’s right..I even failed myself” you muttered to yourself.

You walked through the streets, each step was a painful reminder that you’ve got nowhere to go, completely lost, nowhere and no one to turn to, feeling that you don’t belong anywhere. The darkness of the night enveloped you like a cloak. Your feet carried you to an unexpected place, standing in front of the big wooden door, you didn’t dare to knock, you just stood there in front of your parent’s house, memories flooding your mind. Maybe your parents were right for keeping you locked inside. Maybe someone like you was never meant to leave the safety of their house, maybe your parents knew that you would get hurt. But your family, who spent their life keeping you in the darkness of your room pushed you to marry a stranger, a man you never knew, never met; Gojo Satoru, just because of his good reputation, because he’s the strongest, maybe your parents thought he would keep you safe and will protect you, but he ended up slit opening a deep wound within you, once again awakening your trauma that you worked hard to learn how to live with.

“I was only a burden to everyone” you said to yourself,

You heard giggles so you stepped closer, peeking through the window. Your heart sank as you saw your family again, after so long. You didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad at their sight. Your parents and siblings, gathered together in the warm glow of the light. Carefree and content, laugher filling the air, a bittersweet melody to your ears. Their faces illuminated by smiles as they talked together.

You stood there, a silent observer on the outside looking in. A tear rolled down your cheek , a broken smile drawn on your face,

“They look happy without me”

You felt a sting in your chest, loneliness washing over you again and again, it actually never left, loneliness was the only companion you had. It was as if you were peering into a world you had once knew, yet now felt completely disconnected.

History repeating itself, once again your family managed to make you feel like an outsider, a complete stranger. You felt as if you were a completely forgotten fragment of their life, a faded memory lost in the depth of time, as if you never been a part of their past.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned away from the window, unable to bear the ache of being invisible to them your whole life. As you turned, you were met with a pair of glowing eyes looking directly at you, a tall masked figure that made you gasp , but before you could react, you got hit on your head with a metal bar…falling unconscious.

*End of flashback*

“Was that your parents house?” asked Toji

But you completely ignored his question, looking away from his intense gaze,

“What do you want from me?”

“Kill you, obviously… now answer my question..Was that your parents’ house?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“As you can see, I feed on other’s suffering .. so it would be nice to learn more about your miserable past”

You frowned your brows in confusion,

“I had a normal, not miserable past" you lied, keeping your traumas to yourself,

“Oh hoho, let me guess, abused? Discriminated? No no ignored? That’s the right word… no one ever recognized you right? No one made you feel welcomed cuz you were different and people are scared of things that are different” he started

How did he know that? How did he know about your past? How could he describe what you've felt so accurately?

“N-no!” you lied again

“Come on don’t lie to me.. I know very well the face of someone who’s been discriminated their entire life for being different”

“Have you met someone like that to judge so confidently?”

“No, but I look in the mirror everyday”

You looked at him in disbelief, you didn’t dare to say a word. Whatever he was trying to do, was successfully making you feel uncomfortable. Is he trying to torture you before taking your last breath away? But you already gave up, there’s no way you can escape this place, tied hands and legs, him sitting right across you., and probably no one would look for you.

“If you’re gonna kill me then do it already, and spare me from talking about the past”

“Woah, so you give up already? Who pushed you to your limits to the point that you greet death as an old friend?” he asked

“No one, just do it. This is what you captured me for.. SO DO IT” you yelled.

“Hm, interesting! I think I know where all of this is coming from..Gojo Satoru? Did your husband add to your trauma?”

“enough” you whispered weakly

“What? It must be hard to live with him; especially that he’s the strongest. Lemme guess! He made you feel weak at any given chance, reminding you again and again that you’re nothing” he said offensively pushing you to your edge.

“St-op”

“That’s what sorcerers do, they claim they protect the normal, oh I’m sorry the monkeys like us, but in reality they use their power to belittle us…and you’ll soon be like them, soon you’ll turn into your real form; a sorcerer with an immaculate power but ugly usage..and this is my chance to spare the world of the normal from your ugliness”

“What are you talking about? I’m no turning into a sorcerer-”

“What?”

“It’s been weeks and nothing happened, that prophecy they talked about was nothing but a big lie”

“But your curse-”

“Fate is my only curse” you said, your eyes blankly staring at him, completely worn out.

*Back at Jujutsu High*

Satoru’s eyes blazed with fury as he walked towards Mei Mei and grabbed her by the arm, his grip tight and violent. He yanked her aside aggressively,

“You! You’re the reason she’s gone” he spat with anger.

Mei Mei’s face etched with annoyance, narrowing her eyes at him,

“Don’t you dare blame me for this! It’s your fault Gojo not mine” she fought back.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you? Leading me to your room cuz you know Y/n will be there, you’re trying your best to have me, but you can’t and you never will” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“You started this in the first place. You asked for my help to push Y/n away, and when I succeeded in giving you what you wanted, you started blaming me? Is this your way to say thank you?”

“I already told you to stop, I said that I no longer in need of your help that you got paid for, but you kept pushing, you wanted more than pushing Y/n away, you wanted me to be yours, but too bad for you, I don’t want you Mei Mei _ and if something happens to y/n I’ll end you! Do you understand ?” he threatened and turned his back to leave.

“Do you love her?” asked Mei Mei making Gojo stop in his track. “There’s only explanation for this, you fell for her Gojo: you fell for Y/n!”

A moment of silence washed over the place, making a hundred of thoughts flow in Gojo’s head. But he ignored her; he doesn’t have time to think about his feelings, when the one he has feelings for is missing because of him. So he started walking away to join the others and start their mission to find you.

…..

“We’ll split into three groups and cover as much ground as possible” suggested Gojo and all of them nodded in agreement.

“Megumi and Maki come with me” he added

“I’ll take Yuji-kun and Panda” said Nanami

“Inumaki and Nobara you’ll go with principal Yaga” ordered Satoru

“What about Mei Mei, where is she? Isn’t she coming with us to look for Y/n-sensei?” asked Maki with suspicion, she never liked her anyway.

“I’ll go with you” said Mei Mei as she joined them in the common room, “Let’s find y/n”

Satoru ignored her presence and left the room, the rest of them walked outside. Spreading across Tokyo streets, searching everywhere for a glimpse of you. Ready for any possible encounter with Toji Zenin.

Satoru walked with powerful step, determined to find Toji’s hideout and save you from his deadly grasp.

“We’ll find her..don’t worry Y/n is strong, she can definitely handle it” said Megumi in a comforting tone, after noticing how stressed Satoru was.

“I know… she’s strong” he finally admitted.

Hours stretched on into the night, Gojo and the other sorcerers students and teachers combed through each and every corner of the city.. every alleyway, every secluded spot that Toji could possibly use desperate to find her, but for nothing.

Despite their exhaustive efforts, the outcome remained unchanged; you’re nowhere to be found.

With heavy hearts and weary bodies they got back to Jujutsu High as principal Yaga called off the search.

*2 days later*

“The higher ups called for an urgent meeting” said Principal Yaga

“We’ll join the meeting!” said Yuji

“No it’s only for the teachers”

“NO! we care for Y/n-sensei, and maybe more than all of you! If this is about Y/n-sensei then we’re joining” said Yuji with a sad tone

With a sigh, principal Yaga nodded, guiding all of them to the meeting room.

*At the meeting room*

Tension hung in the air, faces drawn and expressions grim as they waited for one of the higher ups to speak,

“Any clue? Any hint? Any progress?” asked one of them.

All of them shook their heads in defeat, their silence spoke volumes, conveying their helplessness and the frustration of their failure.

“We expected nothing less from Toji Zenin, it’s already crystal clear-” he added coldly, his words cutting through the silence once again.

“We won’t give up! We’ll go back tomorrow and this time we bring her home and bring Toji to his trial again” said Gojo in fraustartion, his words dripping with venom.

“You’ve been looking for two days but for vain, there’s no point in wasting any more time and effort, once she’s captured by Toji we knew she’s already gone, she’s already dead” said one of the higher ups.

“SHE’S NOT DEAD” yelled Satoru slamming his fist on the wooden table,

all heads turned at his direction at his sudden rage.

“I know it’s hard to swallow, but it’s your fault for letting her wander outside without keeping an eye on her, it’s your fa-”

“YOU THINK IM NOT AWARE OF IT? YES YOU’RE RIGHT IT’S MY FUCKING FAULT FOR LETTING HER GO, IT’S MY FAULT FOR PUSHING HER AWAY FROM ME, IT’S MY DAMN FAULT MY HURTING HER SO MUCH TO THE POINT THAT SHE FAVORED FACING DANGER OUTSIDE THEN STAYING BESIDE ME…stop blaming me because I know, I messed up, I fucked up and I admit it…but you can’t ask me to give up on my wife-” said Gojo his voice cracking.

Without further words, he left the room. Nanami followed him trying to help him,

“Gojo stop…hey stop” said Nanami “Where are you going?”

“To find her”

“Gojo you know you won’t find her…” said Nanami apologetically

“You once told me to treat her as a real wife, so here I am doing , let me for once care for her like a real wife”

“Gojo don’t do this to yourself, I know you still have hope, we all do but the higher ups won’t allow it”

“Well fuck them the higher ups..I won’t rest till I bring my wife home”

“Alright I’ll come with you”

*At Toji Zenin’s hideout*

“Wakey wakey…” said Toji splashing cold water on your head

You gasped for air, completely startled, completely drenched

“W-what the hell!!” you exclaimed

“Someone wants to meet you”

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you glanced towards the door in anticipation. Who could possibly come to meet you? Is there someone else in the dirty game that Toji is playing?

Your heart skipped a beat as the door creaked open, revealing a familiar silhouette that slowly emerged from the shadow to the light.

“M-Mei Mei?” you said in shock

Your mind raced trying to make sense of the whole situation, your eyes didn’t leave hers as she looked down at you. But the smirk on Mei Mei’s face offered no answer,

“I hope you had fun these two days here with Toji”

“W-what?” your voice almost inaudible.

“Did you think I’d let you win huh? Poor Y/n!”

“You!- you did all of this? What’s your problem with me huh?” you asked your voice trembling with anger.

“The thing is, you are the problem Y/n! I won’t let you have Gojo, I won’t let you turn into a sorcerer and become the strongest..I won’t let that prophecy come true”

“You’re insane!” you shook your head in disbelief

“Well call it whatever you like, but I won’t let you steal my dreams away”

“So you think that stealing my life away is the right thing to do?”

“YES YES” she leaned forward “I can’t bear to see Gojo look at you with much love in his eyes, I can’t bear to see him giving his heart to you-”

“What are you blabbering about? You know well what kind of relationship I have with Gojo, I already know that both of you have an affair”

Suddenly she started laughing hysterically,

“That’s what I wanted but that dick didn’t want me and never did, since you’re going to die so yeah lemme tell you truth, I got paid to do what I’ve done, he never touched me…it was all lie, all of them, I made that up to push you out of the frame, he wanted that at first but then he started to push ME out of the frame, maybe he’s got a liking into you, a liking that I didn’t like, when I noticed the way his heart started to beat for you, when a spark was born I had to intervene, I couldn’t help but release Toji out of prison, pay him a big amount of money to abduct you and kill you”

“I’ve never thought you’ll get to this level of low” you spat

“Now you’re out of the frame, I succeeded, you’ll die.. Toji will kill you and I’ll work on making Gojo forget about you, I’ll comfort him when he mourns your death, I’ll be the shoulder he cries on and that’s how I’ll win his heart…to the higher ups you’re already considered dead and shortly you’ll truly be” she said happily, playing with her hair

Disbelief washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you disoriented. You struggled to voice your thoughts, lost in the overwhelming emotions so you started screaming at her,

“I’LL KILL YOU MEI MEI, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”

You struggled to break free from the ties that restricted your movement to a minimum, completely going crazy, you hair falling on your face. With each tug and desperate lurch you felt your anger growing more and more, your heart hammering against your chest, redoubling your efforts, till you crashed on the ground, the chair toppled over with a resounding thud, hitting your head on the hard concrete. You laid there, disoriented and dazed, pain pulsed through your skull, world spinning around you. If you managed to break free you’ll make Mei Mei vanish from existence.

You saw in slow mo how Mei Mei was walking towards the door leaving the room, Toji crouched down, brushing strands of hair off your face, placing it behind your ear,

“It’s okay, it won’t be painful…but before I kill you, I’ll do terrible thing to you that will make you beg me to kill you”

You were too weak to answer him, you can feel yourself fading into the background, into the nothingness…losing touch with what’s real. As you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the silence. His face emerged, Gojo’s features etched in your mind with crystalline clarity. Amidst the chaos, the threat, you were somehow happy and relieved that he did not cheat on you, that hadn’t touched Mei Mei and that all what she said before was a lie to offend you that’s all. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, with each passing moment, your thoughts dived deeper and deeper in the memories shared between both of you, the closeness of your faces when both of you bickered, the way he was sleeping next you but disturbed by his night terrors, you wished that you be there for him, comfort him and put him back to sleep in your arms, maybe you’ll be his dream and replace that ugly nightmare that haunts him every night. Maybe you can try again and be a real husband and wife.

You realized in that moment that you needed him, that you have already fell for him but that feeling needed something to be noticed, and this something is being far away from him. But is there a way back? A tear run on your cheek, a weak smile drawn on your tired face, fate is indeed your curse.

“It’s too late…I’m already gone”

With that you closed your eyes, drifting to sleep, your dream filled with visions of Gojo is your only companion.

….

“Are you sure about this Maki?” asked Nobara

“I don’t know, but she’s been acting really suspicious, maybe we can find something?”

“You sure we won’t get caught?”

“No…but I’ll do it, if you’re not sure about this you can go I’ll handle it alone!”

“No I’ll be here, I’ll guard the place”

Both of them walked through the dark corridor like ghosts, gently turning the door knob, sneaking into Mei Mei’s room.

Taglist ✨:

@smolbeanzzz @khaleesihavilliard @tqd4455 @black-swan-blog27 @certainduckanchor @haitanibros0007 @goldenjoyboyy @lorako123 @kunikuzushisbeloved @saiyara05 @numblytemporary @soulofendlessbook @bookswillfindyouaway @sukunasleftkneecap @ryumurin @twitabread @f1uveryysblog @sleepyyammy @olivianyx @animechick555 @allofffmypeaches @inlovewithlondonn @tw0fvced @markleeisdabestdrug @blvckxb3vutii @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostfacefricker6969

@shervinss

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@butterskyy

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@sanriosatoru

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@lioness77

@hermitkerm

@itzmartuuwu

@username23345

@kendall0111

@thoughfullovercreator

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pro-mammonologist · 11 months

Text

More Mammon Headcanons

I’m presently writing my dom mammon x fem Mc strip pool fic and since it’s taking me a minute and I got some writers block so here’s more mammon thoughts

- Mammon likes to stare at you after you have sex like for a really long time

- Mammon wants to shower with you really badly but you guys fight over the hot water and it causes problems

- mammon also wants to take baths with you but the water gets cold too fast and he starts complaining

- Mammon secretly wants other demons to hit on him so Mc can become possessive it makes him feel wanted

- Mammon can’t go clubbing without Mc now so if you don’t like clubbing he will literally stop until he has to force you to go party with him

- Mammon loves doing domestic tasks with you like shopping, paying bills, and cleaning. It makes him feel normal (which is something mammon secretly craves as well he’s secretly tired of him and his brothers being in the spotlight)

- he loves listening to music and dancing alone with you

- makes stupid noises when he thinking

- likes to pop his knuckles when there’s awkward silence or he literally fidgets and acts weird and it makes it worse

- mammon wants Mc to be clingier out in public but if Mc actually did he would freak the fuck out and be super embarrassed

- after a while, PDA won’t be a problem at all tho

- Mammon is terrified of getting caught doing the do but the second he starts making out with Mc he gives no fucks but if you are found out mid fuck, the post-but clarity will be devastating

- kisses you all the time while you’re sleeping

- will get jealous of pets getting your attention

- he couldn’t have sex everyday but he could go on forever the days y’all so

- likes to see if you’re watching him change his clothes

- will watch you change your clothes

- buries his face in your neck when cuddling and he’s feeling extra soft that day

- likes to fall asleep with tons of blankets but kicks every single one off by the morning

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #mammon #currently under mammons bed #obey me mammon x reader #obey me nightbringer #mammon fluff #obey me headcanons

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nhularin · 8 months

Text

ENOUGH FOR YOU

PAIRING popular bf! sunghoon x f!reader GENRE angst no comfort, childhood friends to lovers to exes, highschool AU WARNING wonyoung hating sunghoon XTRA not as angsty as my other drabbles but..., not proofread, probably some grammar mistakes WC 1.3k series masterlist

june 2nd, 2002

"stop moping around and eat your sandwich"

wonyoung snickered, mac and cheese muffling her voice as your head laid restlessly on the metal ( probably dirty and oily) cafeteria table.

"like seriously, its been five days since he last messaged you. i always knew he was a jerk, pretty privilege is real! hes nothing but a ken doll with the way his words are filled with nonsense"

"leave him alone" you groaned, head still down, you could practically feel the acne screaming from underneath your skin "hes a nice guy, probably just busy"

"busy my ass, dont you see the way he literally follows that loser group like an overgrown chihuahua? if he can make time to buy booze for a bunch of 17 year olds then he can for sure make time for his amazing, smart and pretty girlfriend" wonyoung rolled her eyes as she stuffed bland coleslaw in her mouth

you looked up, dark bags adoring your face, you had been in a relationship with sunghoon since your freshman year. as children, you both had been inseparable ever since you moved to salt lake city, your bond growing stronger with each passing year. but now, as juniors, things felt different. he had recently joined the popular crowd, the same crowd you both used to talk shit about in between classes, and friday nights had become synonymous with parties and new faces.

tried so hard to be everything that you liked

the change had been gradual at first, but you couldn't help but notice how sunghoon had become the center of attention, attracting the gazes of both girls and sweaty boys alike. his charismatic smile and magnetic personality drew people towards him like moths to a flame, leaving you feeling like a mere extra and shadow in his presence.

but it was the encounters with the prettier, more popular girls that cut you to the core. you couldn't help but compare yourself to them, questioning if you were really deserving for sunghoon. the doubts grew louder with each unanswered message, as sunghoon seemed to drift further away.

you only sighed

"lets get this over with. you, pretty girl, find your ogre looking piece of shit of a boyfriend and im gonna stay at the entrance" wonyoung ordered sternly, her voice growing darker as she described your boyfriend

unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer and seeing you drown in the growing pool of self pity, wonyoung suggested going to the party where sunghoon tweeted where he was going to be at. maybe seeing him in person would provide some clarity. and so, you found yourself at the heart of the celebration, searching for a glimpse of the person who held your heart.

the night was filled with laughter and music as you stood in the midst of the crowded party. but amidst the lively atmosphere, a heavy sense of unease settled in your heart. you couldn't help but feel like a walking shell of sadness with the absence and lack of your boyfriend's warmth, your messages left unanswered for days dont make your overthinking self feel better either. the persistent doubt gnawed like an aggressive parasite in your mind, making you question if you were truly enough for him.

you found someone more exciting the next second, you were gone

it didn't take long for your eyes to land on him. sunghoon stood near the punch bowl, a radiant smile on his face as he engaged in a conversation with the head cheerleader joonhee. your heart sank at the sight, your fears of being replaceable seemingly coming true, his laughter and the way he touched her arm with familiarity stung deeply in your soul.

"1,2,3 breathe, 1,2,3 breathe" you whispered shakingly to yourself with closed eyes, trying to calm the storm inside of you

overwhelmed by heartache, you couldn't stand to witness any more. and so, running through the backdoor and through drunk teenagers, your breath came in ragged gasps as tears welled up slowly, refusing to fall, just like your pride. you couldn't bear to be in that suffocating environment any longer. the cool night air embraced you as you reached your car, parked in lee heeseungs empty suburb's parking lot.

as you sat in the car, your emotions overflowed, tears still threatened to fall freely as your soul filled with rage and betrayal. it was in that moment, surrounded by darkness and engulfed by doubt, that your vulnerability took hold. the floodgates of your emotions burst open, and a stream of tears cascaded down your cheeks. each tear held your deepest fears and insecurities, each sob a cry for validation and reassurance.

and you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong

"fucking shit" you sighed as incoming calls of wonyoung flooded your notifications. "should've listened to her, huh?" humorless laughter echoed in your crammy dark dimmed toyota. the silence was unbearable, fuelling the whispers in your head that you were not enough and you havent been good enough for him for a while. that you had lost sunghoon to someone who was prettier, much more interesting than you. but deep down, a glimmer of strength began to flicker within you

"why wasn't I enough?" you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a desperate plea. in the depths of your pathetic despair, you couldn't comprehend how you had fallen short, how you had failed to capture sunghoons attention and affection.

the car's small interior offered a temporary solace, shielding you from the actions of the world outside. the emptiness of the parking lot mirrored the emptiness you felt within, making the pain that coursed through your veins grow stronger. you gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white as you tried to steady your trembling body (and if you were your friend, how you were going to run over your boyfriend)

but as the minutes ticked by, you began to actually listen to the daily "you're enough, you're enough. you deserve all the love and happiness in the world, from someone much better" mantra of your friend, realizing that your worth did not hinge on Sunghoon's approval.

you were more than just a measure of your relationship. you were a person with dreams, aspirations, and a heart that deserved to be cherished, regardless of whether it was by sunghoon or someone else.

with each tear that fell, a flicker of resilience ignited within you. screw him, you refused to let your doubts created by him define you. you refused to believe that you were not enough. slowly, you wiped away the tears, your reflection in the rearview mirror revealing tired and empty eyes

Taking a deep breath, you whispered to yourself, "I am enough, i am enough, i am enough. I am deserving of love and happiness." the words hung in the air, the words a combat fighting the doubts that had plagued your mind.

Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

"and i deserve if from someone who values me" your voice cracked, dried tears threatening to fall again

as you started the car, the engine's purr resonated with newfound determination. you drove away from the empty parking lot, leaving behind the doubts and heartache that had consumed you. and as you navigated the darkened streets, a flicker of hope emerged, lighting your path towards self-discovery (having a midlife crisis at the ripe age of seventeen is normal, right?) and a love that would celebrate your true worth.

'Cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else

incoming messages!

wony (12 new messages, 3 unanswered calls)

hoonie <333 (3 new messages) OPEN

hoonie <333: i saw you at heeseungs

hoonie <333: its not what it looked like, yn

hoonie <333: you know i only love you

are you sure you want to block 'hoonie <333'?

PROCEED ✓ CANCEL

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1

#𝗛𝗧𝗧𝗣𝗦://𝗪𝗪𝗪.𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗥-𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠.𝗖𝗢𝗠 #k labels #kflixnet #hyfenet #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smau #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon angst

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lirational · 6 months

Text

Staked Claim

Shalom x Reader

A/N: A quick fic inspired by @inou-ie’s fic, which can be found here. I am getting back into the swing of things! I’m sorry for the wait everyone!

Warnings: Possessive behavior, strap-ons, mentions of drinking, jealousy, overstimulation.

Smut under the cut. Minors DNI.

The haze of alcohol had made you forget just what problem prompted you to come here in the first place. With the haze, came the lack of restraint, and that was how you ended up here in the first place.

Blaring lights and all-too loud music became a relentless assault on your senses. It took all your focus just to talk, and energy for you to put on a smile when a beautiful woman joined you, her voice a melodious contrast to the loud music. Emboldened, you reciprocate her flirting, awkward as it could be, and her laughter became fuel for you to continue, even as a sense of wrongness stirred from the act.

It was all in good fun, you figured.

As if Fate itself has heard your claim, you hear a familiar voice.

“There you are,” a familiar voice spoke, soft without betraying any trace of emotions. A cold hand slid onto your waist, the other reaching up to trace a line from your chin to your neck, a gesture to anchor you back to reality.

“Can I take her for a bit? My dear (Name) here seems to be bothering you, let me apologize on her behalf,” Shalom continued, each word spoken in such a way that each word tickled against your ears. The softness of her dress was pressing against your back, Shalom seemingly uncaring about ruining it.

While the other woman was stunned, you were helped up and brought back to her place, ice injecting your veins as you realize how absolutely screwed you are. A soft click from the lock, right as you felt the familiar softness of her bedsheets sealed your fate.

Perhaps, the most unsettling of all, was the way she smiled. A practiced, perfect smile, beautiful, yet enough to convey a threatening message.

“I warned you, didn’t I?”

Her smile didn’t falter, and a shudder went down your spine. All the haze from your drinking had disappeared, replaced by a stark, sharp clarity.

“Ah, Shalom, I’m… sorry?”

She let out a chuckle at your answer. Her smile almost never faltered, which allowed you to pick up subtler cues to her feelings. Right now, you could sense jealousy was brewing underneath her skin, barely suppressed in an ever-present, statue-like charm too perfect to believe if you hadn’t seen it yourself. “Here I thought you were restlessly waiting for me, while I attend a business party, but it seems you’ve been having some fun, hm?”

You gulp, the sound almost echoing in the quiet, heavy atmosphere. Then, she continued.

“You know, I don’t like my things being touched by anyone else, including you. In fact, I hate it the most.”

Her soft voice was like a lure, a false illusion projected to give you a sense of security. Limbs locked by dread, you could only watch, as she made a tantalizing show of removing her dress layer by layer, shedding the cumbersome weight inch by inch, slow and careful to stretch the anticipation and fear to an eternity. Though you knew there was no use bargaining with her at this state, you opened your mouth, hoping to at least convince her.

However, as soon as you tried to, she was in front of you, index finger on your lips, the cold from her skin spreading and freezing your pleas.

“Strip.”

It was a soft-spoken order, yet you obeyed.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that she had taken out the biggest strap she could find, its color stark against her pale skin.

Using your distraction, she was in front of you, and then pushed you down, the toy aligned to your entrance.

“You’re not—“

Again, you were interrupted, as she kissed you before you could finish. It was a deep, searing kiss that did not allow you even a moment to breathe, tongues tangling in a claiming dance until black started to dot the corner of your sight. Only then did Shalom see it fit to give you respite, letting you catch your breath as she trailed bruising kisses down from your cheek, to the column of your neck, your shoulders, and the valley of your breasts. Her skillful tongue swirled around your nipple, stimulating them into stiffness while her hand played with your other breast.

Your pleas for her to slow down were overtaken, drowned by your own wanton moans. Even without her eyes branding your skin with sheer intensity, she seemed to have a telepathic connection to your thoughts, ramping up her stimulations when you start to say anything other than calling her name, scattering any coherent thoughts to the wind in the process. With a wet pop, she released your nipple, looking at you in the eyes for a moment before reaching down to give your folds a quick swipe, humming in satisfaction as she felt slick gather on her fingertips.

“Feel it, feel just how wet you are for me.”

She aligned the massive toy onto your entrance, hips slamming to meet yours as it slipped into your folds to the hilt, your eager walls swallowing and gripping on it. A sense of relief came first, then there was pain as the toy rammed so, so deeply her hips were connected to yours. She didn’t take her eyes off you, taking your right hand and planting a soft kiss on top of your digits while her hips moved in a slow, teasing manner to allow you to feel every inch as she entered you.

Through the pleasure, you realized, it was the same hand the woman you met at the bar touched.

“What are you thinking?” Shalom asked, putting your hand down and tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. “Look at me. Don’t look at anything else.”

With that, it was as if she had let go of her restraints.

Her stare pinned you down, fingers gripping your hips until it left crescent marks as she slammed the toy into you over and over, her intensity a wordless threat to split you apart, each moment your hips meet sending waves of pure bliss throughout your body. It was in moments like this you regretted forgetting about her strength, as weak as she may be from what you have heard, as a Sinner she was still much stronger than you were. She only allowed you, no, coaxed you to call and beg for her name and nothing else, each plea spilling from your lips to continue becoming her fuel to keep going, to ram her toy inside you until something broke apart within.

Your climax came as an explosion of sensations blurring into one, pain, pleasure, and exhaustion racking your entire form as you spilled and made a mess on the toy. Shalom eyed the forming puddle on the bedsheets with satisfaction, the gleam of her gaze telling you all you needed to know.

Then, she waited, until the glazed over look in your eyes subsided, a sign that you have regained awareness, before pulling out her toy from your folds, all smeared with your fluids from the tip to the hilt. A part of you have expected blood from the way she split you apart with abandon, yet there was nothing, nothing out of place other than evidence of your own unraveling beneath her. Exhaustion gripped your form, yet, her cold touch on your neck froze you into awareness.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” she purred, “I want you to feel, to see what I could do to you that no one else could.”

With that, she tightened her hold, restricting your breathing. Through that little control she exerted, her touches turn sharper, even the little movements of her fingers as her other hand stimulated your bud, slow, careful, and romantic, as strange as it sounded. Unlike before, when she moved as if she intended to split you into two at the seams, desire heated up your body slowly, a gentle rise that forced you to feel everything she did while you grapple with your restricted breathing, your legs shivered, your thighs closing, perhaps in an attempt to escape, or an attempt to force her to go faster.

You obtained neither.

She pulled out her hand as soon as your legs close, earning a low whine that you wished you would never be caught dead making. Alas.

“Patience, (Name), you will get your reward.”

Rather than distract you, the order just made you more keenly aware of her movements. A part of you supposed that it was just her form of punishment. Your legs quivered with need, hands gripping the sheets so hard it was a wonder you had not torn through them yet.

Relief came like a refreshing wave of water, as Shalom finally, finally released your neck, allowing you unrestricted access to fresh air. There was no mercy this time, no overwhelming sensations to allow you the dignity to forget what she had made you feel, etching how utterly and completely hers you were even into the deepest recesses of your thoughts. She seemed satisfied, and you finally let go, exhaustion claiming you, yet a soft pull on your hair sapped all the fatigue, Shalom’s smile still gracing her beautiful visage, a contrast to the mess you have made of yourself and the sheets.

“Tired already? I haven’t came even once. Come on, you won’t need to walk for the next three days, would you?”

#path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere headcanons #ptn shalom x reader

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burningvelvet · 7 days

Text

a post in honor of lord byron's 200th death anniversary —

the greeks were very fond of byron, who when he died in 1824 was a military commander and notable influence in their war of independence. as one of the most (if not the most) famous members of the philhellenist movement, byron used his poetic platform to try to remind people of greece's reputation as the source of western traditions in art and culture. the greeks then honored byron by decorating his coffin with a laurel wreath (below). they also erected statues for him, like this one below in athens depicting him being crowned with a laurel wreath (a symbol of greatness, especially in poetry/music [which historically overlapped]) by a female personification of greece. to this day, some statues of byron are annually wreathed in tradition, and the names byron/vyron/vyronas are still used in greece for roads, towns, and people in his honor.

"’Tis sweet to win, no matter how, one’s laurels,

By blood or ink; ’tis sweet to put an end

To strife; ’tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels,

Particularly with a tiresome friend:

Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;

Dear is the helpless creature we defend

Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot

We ne’er forget, though there we are forgot.

But sweeter still than this, than these, than all,

Is first and passionate love — it stands alone,

Like Adam’s recollection of his fall;

The tree of knowledge has been pluck’d — all ’s known —

And life yields nothing further to recall

Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown,

No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven

Fire which Prometheus filch’d for us from heaven."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the First (writ 1818, pub. 1819).

"The mountains look on Marathon –

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dreamed that Greece might still be free;

For standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the Third (writ 1819, pub 1821) — this stanza is part of a section often published on its own under the title "The Isles of Greece."

"Byron was at once a romantic dreamer, who wanted life to square up to his illusions, and a satirical realist, who saw what was before him with unusual clarity and found its contradictoriness amusing. The clash between the two Byrons is nowhere more noticeable than in his last writings, done on Cephalonia and at Missolonghi during the months before his death. There we see the Greece he dreams of, and the Greece which, in different ways, destroys him."

— excerpt from Peter Cochran's "Byron's Writings in Greece, 1823-4."

"Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story;

The days of our youth are the days of our glory;

And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two and twenty

Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

'Tis but as a dead-flower with May-dew besprinkled.

Then away with all such from the head that is hoary!

What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory!

Oh FAME! - if I e'er took delight in thy praises,

'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,

Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover,

She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee;

Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;

When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story,

I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory."

— Lord Byron's "Stanzas Written on the Road Between Florence and Pisa" (November, 1821). What is illustrated here, and what I try to illustrate all throughout this assortment, is Byron's conflation of love and glory, and the idea that poetry and politics are both ways to deserve and achieve — not fame, but what fame seems to promise — love.

"But 'tis not thus—and 'tis not here

Such thoughts should shake my Soul, nor now,

Where Glory decks the hero's bier,

Or binds his brow.

The Sword, the Banner, and the Field,

Glory and Greece around us see!

The Spartan borne upon his shield

Was not more free.

Awake (not Greece—she is awake!)

Awake, my Spirit! Think through whom

Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake

And then strike home!"

— excerpt from Lord Byron's "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" (1824).

"What are to me those honours and renown

Past or to come, a new-born people's cry

Albeit for such I could despise a crown

Of aught save Laurel, or for such could die;

I am the fool of passion, and a frown

Of thine to me is as an Adder's eye

To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down

Wafts unto death the breast it bore so high –

Such is this maddening fascination grown –

So strong thy Magic - or so weak am I."

— although the much more popular and published "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" is often believed to be Byron's last poem, the above is likely Byron's actual last poem. Like the former, it wasn't solely written for Greece, but for his page Lukas Chalandritsanos who he was in unrequited love (or lust) with. It is sometimes titled "Last Words on Greece" (named so by his friend and sometimes-editor Hobhouse).

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hwaightme · 8 months

Text

Essence

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🍃 pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🍃 genre: heart-melting fluff, slight crack, established long-term relationship 🍃 summary: "i love the way that you're designed, love the way we intertwine, still don't need a reason why, you're beautiful and now you're mine" - you're beautiful by the rose 🍃 wordcount: 2.3k 🍃 taglist: at the end 🍃 warnings/tags: half edited half on the wings of hope, hugs kisses and cuddling, heart might hurt because of the love levels, quiet early mornings, rain, tickling, slightly suggestive, corny jokes and slang, dorky and sleepy couple with stars in their eyes, ode to hwa (simping) 🍃 a/n: i hope this provides some comfort <3 you're beautiful, adored, and shine brighter than the stars. notes, reblogs, comments always appreciated. much love!

Clouds of cotton and linen, a feathery warmth under the faint light of the early morning. If there was one word that you could choose to describe the light grey haze that pleasantly suppressed the vibrant colours of the world around you, waiting until you were to blink away the last inklings of sleep, it would be ‘fragile’. Somewhere between dream and reality was this translucent paradise, so easily missed, and yet, if you were to find yourself in it by a stroke of good fortune, you would want it to last forever. A moment suspended on a single shared breath, under a blanket of a lazy dawn. For the first time in a while, time was on your side.

No rush, no catastrophic cycle hurrying to sweep you up into its monstrous arms, carrying you away from your humble comfort. Both by fate and by extensive planning, you had a long weekend to look forward to, and could spend it exactly how you personally wished - the rain assured you of it. The soft pitter patter against the windows, the rooftop, the brick walls that protected you was music to your ears. Thanks to the awning that covered the windows to the left of the bed - on your side of choice, one of them could be left open a sliver, letting the enticing, lulling aroma of petrichor twirl through the air and caress you. A rustling of the leaves - an unforgettable performance by the huddle of trees, the crowns of which were just outside of your apartment. And you had all the time in this fast-moving world to pace yourself and listen, enjoy the sweetest music.

Your body was still drowsy, enjoying the cosiness of the bedsheets - not that you would even dare attempt to move, considering the gentle, loving arm that had crept onto and over you at some point during the night, and the head of its owner resting on your chest, dark tresses occupying your vision as soon as you looked down. Carefully, you moved a strand away from your boyfriend’s face, biting back a foolish grin when his onyx lashes fluttered at the sensation. His hair was getting longer, the observation passed through your mind as you continued to gingerly brush it with your fingers. In silence, you were able to regard change for what it was, and thanked the sun, moon, stars for letting you stay with the same person through them all.

As the raindrops continued falling, so did your absent-minded touches, in part, because you felt your partner hug you even closer, giving you an adorable grunt of approval even in the midst of sleep, but also, because you wanted to make sure that all of this was real. Grounding yourself in the tender embrace, you found peace and clarity. How did your life lead you to this heaven? So many memories intertwined to build to this moment, how many droplets of rain could that equate to? Would it be a lake? A sea? An ocean? Perhaps you would never find an answer, nor did you want to, because this was a trickling timescale you prayed would never halt. You did not notice that your hand had frozen in the air while you were caught up in your thoughts until a deep voice, laden with a befitting somnolent raspiness, led you back.

“Why’d you stop?”

You looked down again to see a mischievous side eye from none other than your boyfriend who, judging by the question, had been awake for some time.

“Good morning, Hwa. Since when is sleeping beauty not sleeping?” you quipped with a smirk, amused by the scrunching of his nose and a shy smile while he shuffled upwards, until his head was level with yours.

“I’d think you would know when you woke up,” he countered, leaning onto one arm to use his other hand to cup your chin, guiding you closer to him and stopping a mere couple of centimetres away. You inhaled sharply, pretending to be exasperated.

“No fair, I rizzed you first!”

“And I’m just making observations,” before you could answer, you felt his plush lips capture yours, his victorious smile consuming the whine that left you, “good morning, angel.”

“‘Morning, lovely,” you whispered, gaze taking in his eyes, his nose, his lips, cheeks, eyebrows - every detail that made Seonghwa who he was was priceless to you.

His bare face, so stunning that no artist could ever fully depict it, but instead they would be contained in an eternal state of inspiration, having found their muse - selfless, starry-eyed, adoring. A universe contained in every expression, the light coating of blush on his cheeks, be it from the intensity of your observation or due to the mere minutes that passed since he had woken up, a perfect shade of love. Seonghwa; to become a star, indeed; he always shined the brightest. In his eyes was a purity unlike any other, both a reflection of his soul and how he perceived the rollercoaster life around him, even the simplest things turning into miracles. Heart to heart, it was easy for you to feel that in every beat was something greater, a blooming wonder. You fell quiet, instead choosing to stretch your arms wide and invite him impossibly close to you, a gesture that earned pure glee from him.

You felt a hand snake under your body, stopping at your side, meeting his other hand that returned to its position on top of you, and pushing you towards him. Breath running over your neck and collarbone, Seonghwa sighed at the warmth and nuzzled closer, peppering a couple of stray kisses over any skin he could reach. Your arm, which ended up serving as a support and rest for your boyfriend, wrapped around him, and you traced abstract shapes on his shoulder, exposed because of the black sleeveless tee he had chosen to wear, foregoing his usual glossy chrome silver attire. It was so natural, how you tilted your head to rest on top of his. How your left hand and his right intertwined, but not before hovering in midair, palm to palm, fingers flush against each other, reminding you of a day some time ago, back when you were not even officially dating but Seonghwa, overtaken by a sudden boldness, though of the endearing and boyish kind, had expressed a pressing curiosity of how the size of your hand compared to his. Now, you were pretty sure the only answer was: just right to be held by him since from that day on, Seonghwa had never really let go. Be it in a stray touch of the elbow, or a brush of the pinkies, or his leg moving to be right against yours, he was always making sure that you would not forget that he was there. Not that you particularly needed the reminders since Seonghwa would either way be at the forefront of your mind, but the closeness was an unimaginable, instant comfort.

"It's raining," he mumbled, half to himself, tiredly regarding the vista.

"Mhm," you hummed back in agreement, not resisting the temptation to kiss the top of his forehead, making him look up at you, perfect dark orbs that reminded you of a certain brown sugar treat melting away even the smallest hint at a desire to get up.

"...wonder if worms go on dates," he pondered out loud, training his attention back to the maple and beech. You suppressed a snort, never failing to be amused by your boyfriend's unfiltered streams of consciousness, instead squeezing out a response between low chuckles:

"Are you about to ask me if I would still love you if you were a worm?"

"I know you would. You'd be the best worm wife," he shot back, sporting a cheeky grin as he squeezed you tighter. Ignoring how your heart accelerated at his choice of words, planting a seed of curiosity in your mind, you lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Yah, who says?"

"I'd annoy you until you do,"

"Hm… fair, fair," you pretended to consider, "but I won't be able to hug you like this," to prove a point, you curled into him.

“True, and I…” Still keeping a mischievous, enigmatic grin, Seonghwa wriggled out of his position, leaning towards you until you could feel his mouth right by your ear. Involuntarily, a shiver ran over you, making your boyfriend exhale sharply, satisfied. "I doubt I would be able to do this…" he planted a kiss right below your earlobe, and another, trailing downwards. Your flittering on his shoulder turned into a grasp for stability against his unwarranted, albeit alluring forwardness. “Or this,” he continued, using your temporary pliability to twist and tug you towards him until your back hit his broad chest and he could lock his arms around you, “Or-”

“Park Seonghwa, if you dare tickle me right now, I am not to be held resp-”

“Too slow-”

You yelped as you felt your boyfriend’s fingers attack your sides, making you break into a fit of giggles and swat at him, careful to avoid his face. He did not continue for long however, pausing as soon as a yawn disrupted him and instead choosing to embrace you once more and plant one noisy kiss on your cheek, their flushed state igniting an even stronger adoration. He rested his head on his hand with the elbow finding purchase on a white pillow, choosing to allow himself some space for simply acknowledging you.

He always had loving words to say about you - as time went by, he swore that this ability was innate, and that was the only way he could respond to you or describe you, but sometimes, even they fell short of encapsulating the emotional landscape shared, and just how you made him feel. From an ecstatic rush to a divine tranquillity, Seonghwa had found everything with you, and with you, even the biggest challenges turned into tiny setbacks. You balanced each other out. One could offer logic in a sensitive time for another, or provide a space in which to experience the lowest lows with no judgement, only unprecedented empathy. In the same way, both of you were each other's unwavering supporters, always there, always the loudest, always proud. Ready to celebrate success and small joys, be it a major event or an exciting moment in a video game, you simply fit together.

Seonghwa loved the way that you were designed, and the way that you two intertwined. Every day was an opportunity to be better, and he was glad that he could do it with you. In loving you, he found that he started to love himself more too, and it was thanks to this safety of the soul that had been discovered in your unity that he could play games, crack jokes, fully be himself. He noticed that you blossomed too - a freer, happier angel of light to grace this little blue planet, one who, with initial reassurance, had now taken flight and was now living the life that manifested hopes and wishes into a beautiful every day. Both as individuals, and as a couple, you grew to new heights, and that made minutes, hours like this even sweeter.

Now, it was your turn to roll back to spot an enamoured stare. Bashful, despite it having been quite a number of years since you had felt his gaze like this for the first time, you rolled forwards, trying to hide your face, to which you heard a click of the tongue in response, and a firm hold of your wrist. Seonghwa kept your arm in place, resting his own over your waist, and once certain that you would not block him, tangled his fingers between your own.

Dawn.

Rain.

Time.

Seonghwa’s chest right against your back, his inhale, exhale lulling you back into a daze while the sky’s silver tears continued to transform your neighbourhood into a glimmering paradise. You wanted to be like this forever, snuggled close while in the middle of the storm that marked a transition from a fatigued summer to a chilly autumn. But even then, you knew you would be with your own sunshine.

“Already napping?” he teased, noticing how you had closed your eyes, and were progressively sinking further into your pillow. Not that he was doing something different, having collapsed behind you, disregarding the greenery outside, preferring to inhale the scent of your shampoo and forget the hours that the colour of the sky outside would hint at soon enough.

“Mm…” you were not bothered to give a proper response, nor were you particularly worried about your boyfriend not understanding you. He always did. Just like you understood him when he poked at the leg you were lying on to let him hook onto you - something of a habit, turned tradition, turned necessity.

Hearts beating in time, connected in mind, body and soul. Like rain, you had fallen for one another, and soon enough, one droplet turned into two, into one thousand, into an ocean that spanned all of your favourite places. Neither of you were afraid of the occasional gloomy day, because as soon as you were to glance at one another, you would see a brightness previously deemed either inaccessible, or downright nonexistent. You relaxed fully into the feeling of Seonghwa’s arms around you. Safe, devoted, just so Seonghwa. He was a name, a noun, a verb, an adjective. Syllables, characters, letters that morphed into the synonym for love, and with every fibre of your being, you hoped would also mean ‘forever’.

🍃 perma-taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk

🍃 untaggable: @burnmepls (could be because of settings)

enjoyed? consider leaving a reblog, i'd love to chat <3

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killingdove · 1 year

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could we perhaps get some headcanons for the ishgardian trio realizing the moment they fell for the reader/wol 👀👀👀

ishgardian trio ➳ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

A/N: ooh i love this request so much!! i hope these are to your liking dearest anon ♡

𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐘𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

it was in the way you sliced not only your foes but the way you sliced through the air as well when you were in battle

you may or may not worship halone but either way you were clearly bestowed the gift of combat prowess by her grace

when you’d have sparring matches together, estinien would never go easy on you as he finds that disrespectful but you knock the breath out of him physically and metaphorically whenever you win

there was a day where the practice match ended in you managing to get estinien’s back to fall atop the ground and you were pointing your weapon’s tip at him proudly from your standing position

“don’t tell me you’ve gone easy on me, wyrmblood,” you smirk

estinien stares up at you with wide eyes as he feels his heart skip a beat

but he quickly schools his elegant elezen features into his usual scowl

“of course not. who do you take me for?”

laughing, you help him up and he swears the contact between your hands ignited something within him, something different and incomparable to nidhogg’s rage that he felt all the time

he comes to find your laugh is like music to his ears

he also realizes he wants to hear more of the sound, and he uses that dry humor of his to elicit more of them from you from that day onwards which results in more small smiles from him

he’s doomed

𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄

when he wrote and poured his heart into the missive that would later grant you and the scions access to ishgard, he stopped at one point after going on a spiel about you in ink

he had unwittingly went on to sing your highest praises and much of it read like a love letter

it was during his reminiscing of your good deeds as he wrote did he realize the pure adoration and emotion he felt for you

haurchefant gets embarrassed by himself, a blush rising to his cheeks as he sets the paper aside to start anew

he was nervous such a prodigious hero as yourself would not return his feelings

not only that but he did not want to risk his father blabbering about the contents of the missive to you

later, he sees you that day and feels his stomach doing somersaults

you were just so radiant, bringing hope and happiness wherever you tread

“be still my beating heart…” he mumbles to himself before he approaches you with a smile

as usual, he was his jovial and enthusiastic, caring self

but if one were to look closely enough, the dead giveaway of his love for you was evident within his eyes as they’d crinkle at the corners with his genuine smiles

𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐋

he had always admired you from the moment he started following your expeditions and learning of your successes

but he never knew the extent of how deep his feelings ran for you as time had passed with working with you

it wasn’t until he invites you for a one-on-one dinner within the Borel manor

that evening he got to know you better, and the back and forth conversations you had over steak and wine did nothing but stoke the flames of his growing love

when the topic had shifted to romance, he felt heat circulating within his cheeks

the way you talked about your past lovers however, caused a different heat within him; one that bespoke of jealousy

it was an ugly feeling that twisted him on the inside, one he was not quite familiar with but nevertheless he hid it well

he had asked what you found attractive in a partner eventually totally for the sake of carrying conversation and not because he was curious to see if he was the warrior of light’s type nooooo

aymeric found himself comparing his likeness to your standards and it suddenly hit him with startling clarity mid-way through rejoicing internally that he shared your type’s physical attributes

uh oh

the concern on your face when he lets his mask slip for just a moment makes him fall even harder for you if anything

with his newfound revelation, he says nothing is amiss and diverts your attention towards sharing your experiences with beastmen

all the while he’s screaming inside

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odinsblog · 7 months

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“Jann Wenner, the founder of Rolling Stone magazine, has now found himself in hotdog water after an interview with New York Times writer David Marchese, where he revealed that the reason he did not include Black or female artists in his book is because they were not in his ‘zeitgeist,’ and he did not feel that female artists were ‘articulate enough on this intellectual level.’”

Jann Wenner is extremely inarticulate himself, but has been the gatekeeper of such things as who is or is not articulate enough for quoting or admiring for their contributions to Rock & Roll — a genre of music CREATED by Black people. And since he failed to mention any, lest we forget, people can be both Black and women simultaneously. (TERFs dni)

And just for clarity: Wenner exhibited the racism, sexism and tokenism that has probably held back many talented people throughout his very long career of picking winners and losers, and deciding who gets rewarded and who doesn’t in the music industry.

And one last thing: while I give the audio interviewer partial credit — not full credit — for pressing Wenner on his sexism and racism, I am imploring white people to unambiguously name and call things for what they really and truly are, in the moment.

PLEASE STOP CODDLING RACISTS AND MISOGYNISTS.

Coddling white fragility is not helpful, it’s harmful.

Unambiguously calling out racism is helpful, not harmful.

SN: Obviously the same goes for all the other isms too (Islamophobia, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. etc.)

Don’t let members of the oppressor class trick you into thinking that call-out culture (aka, accountability) is a bad thing. It’s not.

Racist gatekeepers need to be embarrassed and called out. On a regular basis. When they’re young, people want to excuse their racism because of their youth. And then when they are old, people excuse their racism because, “Well that’s just the way they grew up,” and before you know it, some racist misogynistic asshole has lived their entire life without anyone ever seriously telling them that they’re racist. AND THEN we wonder why nothing is changing!

Instead of being concerned with hurting the feelings of a racist, maybe try being more concerned with the people who their racism will inevitably harm. Let’s try more of that please.

👉🏿 https://thehub.news/old-white-guy-hates-black-music-that-made-him-rich/

#jann wenner #rolling stone #racism #misogyny #rock and roll #gatekeepers #white fragility #the masters #rolling stone magazine #rock n roll

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piratefishmama · 10 months

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Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 8

The mirror wasn’t weird anymore. But Eddie still found it sort of unnerving to look into it. To see scars on his face. Scars that told the story of time having passed. Time he didn’t remember passing, and knowing that, from context clues and behaviours of the people around him…

He should remember it passing.

They weren’t telling him something. Keeping truths from him for his own good and while yes, nice, lovely, they were protecting him from something undoubtedly harsh, the urge of wanting to know was more of a pain in the ass than it’d ever been before.

Curiosity killed the cat and all that jazz.

Unfortunately he wasn’t a cat, he didn’t have nine lives, he had one, and that’d already been taken from him, so he was really pushing his luck. Especially considering he wound up on that little trip out into town, partnered up with team super girl. Or team Byers-Hopper. He’d wanted to be with the people he knew, Steve, Robin, Nancy… but no, Eleven, the actual superhero had linked her arm with his, and that was that.

She basically adopted him. Pulled him into the direction of team Byers-Hopper.

“She’s comfortable with you” Joyce explained from left field, they’d wound up in a music store after several clothes stores, and Eddie, while mindlessly flicking through the metal vinyl’s, had been watching the psychokinetic teen perusing bins with Will for tapes, Hopper somewhere down the aisles looking for an album to replace one he’d lost in the chaos.

“Can’t imagine why, I don’t know her.” He knew of her, but only through the brief ‘there’s this girl, she has superpowers’ run down during the great Eddie Munson manhunt of ’86. She was the girl. He didn’t know what he expected, but… it wasn’t her.

She looked so fragile. Her hair at her chin, styled in a way that Eddie recognised as someone who also didn’t quite know how to handle natural curls. With a brush and nothing else.

Too young to have been through what she’d been through. She should be in a mall somewhere, trying on clothes, gossiping about boys, or girls, or anything not related to fighting for her life.

She shouldn’t have been through what she had. But then, none of them should have been.

“We find it best not to question it when El takes a shine to someone, it means good things, that’s what we’ve found so far. It means there’s something good in you.”

“Well… if anyone were going to see it… m’glad it’s the superhero.” Joyce smiled, gave him a gentle pat on the back that shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was, probably the overwhelming amount of mom energy she seemed to just radiate, “…do you know what they’re hiding from me?” Just as out of left field as her appearance beside him was, and it had at least some of the desired effect.

She looked surprised. She looked uncomfortable, she looked… like she knew.

“It’s nothing that you did, Eddie, I promise you. I think… I think they’re keeping it quiet because… if you did wind up remembering… the government would likely try and blame you, they’d have an excuse to blame you, the fact that you don’t, well I think that is what’s keeping you out of a lot of trouble.” It was keeping him safe. Keeping him out of the line of fire. Even if it was also keeping the people he’d tentatively begun thinking of as friends… out of reach. “They’re probably trying to avoid jogging that memory of yours for your own safety.”

“So there should be memories…” finally, some kind of clarity. While they’d all been nice to him, while they’d all been glad he was okay, nobody acting like he didn’t belong there, nobody being mean to him… Steve wouldn’t even help him unpack! He and Steve had been fine during the whole Vecna thing, they’d been okay, they’d laughed and joked, they’d gotten along, and now— “did I hurt Steve?”

“Not that I know of, he wouldn’t have told anyone if you did though, knowing him he’d be keeping it to himself to stop you from receiving the fury of The Children. So if you did, you’d have to pry that from him yourself.” Right… pry the knowledge from Steve. Okay, he could do that… if he could get Steve alone then maybe, just maybe, he could talk to him.

Steve was the only one who knew about his void, right? He was safe with Steve, he could talk to Steve. “I suppose I’ll speak to Steve then, thanks Mrs Byers”

“It’s Joyce, Eddie… you can call me Joyce.” He nodded, his smile small, but there.

“Eddie!” And there was the Supergirl, having left the bin to join them, taking his arm to pull him back with her toward Will “there are tapes you will like here. Will says you like Metal, I think I have found some, the name says Iron something, and I am certain that that is a metal.” Joyce offered him a smile, before releasing him from their conversation with a gentle shoo motion.

His attention switched to El as she pulled him along, and with a much bigger smile, he confirmed that “yeah, that’s a metal, Ellie, why don’t we find something for Max too, since I’m sure she could do with something other than Kate Bush by now” and gosh couldn’t that smile of hers just light up a whole goddamn room and make all those negative thoughts just disappear into the wind?

“Yes, I think so too.”

They dropped off the new tapes at the hospital on the way back to home base, the car fully loaded with clothes,it was intended to be a quick visit, Max was still asleep, so they didn’t plan to stay long, but Lucas was there beside her as usual, reading wonder woman comics to her as she slept. She’d wake up soon. The doctors said she would, and he’d be there when she did.

El added a new little woollen friendship bracelet to Max’s wrist, alongside the three others she’d already placed there through the week and whispered something to her, nobody caught what it was, nobody tried to. If El wanted everyone to know what she said, she’d have said it out loud.

It was Lucas who made him feel less like a piece of the background, just by smiling at him and asking him “you doin okay, Eddie?” Checking in with him.

“Feels like I need a montage to catch me up on what I’m missing but… yeah m’good man. Red likes Wonder Woman?”

“Mhm, big on the girl power, y’know? As if anyone could be tougher than her” as if anyone could be braver.

El was pretty damn special but… El could throw things with her mind, could snap all the bones in a human body with a thought, Max was just… Max, impossibly brave, but so very human.

“Princess Diana would bow at her feet, I have zero doubts. What about you though? You’ve barely left this place, can’t be good for you…”

“I’ll rest when she’s awake, she’d do the same for me. And before you say it don’t worry, I’m fully prepared to endure her attitude when she finds out how long I’ve been here. She can be mad at me all she wants, I’ll be here when she wakes up.”

“Good…. m’glad y-you’re… you’re prepared, stalker…”

Part 10

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication #GASP!!

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homunculus-argument · 9 months

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Okay, I am done beating my head through a brick wall for now, but not because I came to my senses but because the wall yielded. So, things that apparently helped with making the shading process less painful and frustrating:

Letting myself stay in bed in the morning and getting a few more hours of sleep instead of getting up immediately when I first wake up.

Watering down my ink a little, in case it's gotten too thick over time from slowly evaporating.

Accepting that if inanimate objects that should not do that insist on having a will of their own, I'm only wasting time trying to fight them. If this specific fine line nib does not vibe with drawing fine line for now, I should switch to some area that can do with a little thicker shading lines.

Reminding myself of clarity, consistency, motion and emotion. A panel is good enough if a reader can see who's talking, where they're standing, and how they're feeling. I've only completely botched the shading of a character's forearm if a reader cannot recognise that it's a forearm.

Switching more between fineliners and ink nibs in parts where the detail does not matter.

You can sketch where shadows and highlights should go on the lineart beforehand before shading.

Nibs and tools that are broken and don't work get thrown into the trash, not into the wall.

When you get mad at your own music choices, it's time to take a break.

Any pen or other item that you've spent 15 minutes looking for but still cannot find either no longer exists or does not wish to be found. Stop wasting time, respect its wishes and just do something else.

Stop trying to angrily speedrun taking breaks. That defeats the purpose of taking breaks in the first place.

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cinycesum-fan · 6 months

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The Attack on Titan anime did better job than the manga:

As a devoted fan of Attack on Titan, both the series and its manga, I must emphatically assert that the anime transcended the source material in certain key aspects. It's not about drastic alterations, but rather the subtle nuances that granted the anime a heightened level of clarity.

In the manga, there were lines that managed to infuriate the readers. Take, for instance, that moment when Armin expressed gratitude to Eren "for being a mass murderer for our sakes." It was a glaring misfit with Armin's genuine sentiments about the Rumbling. However, the anime rectified this by replacing it with the poignant dialogue about their reunion in the afterlife. Notably, the manga seemed less explicit about the fact that Eren "had no choice," leaving room for substantial criticism regarding his actions, his tears for Mikasa, the tragic demise of his mother, and the grim reality of only eliminating 80% of humanity. The anime, on the other hand, masterfully conveyed the inescapable nature of Eren's path, illuminating that no matter how hard he struggled, the outcome remained unchanged. Those like me who harbored disdain for the manga's conclusion primarily had their qualms rooted in the dialogue of that pivotal chapter. It's baffling that the "10 years at least" line persisted, but I digress, for the anime handled this with remarkable finesse.

I won't claim to adore the ending, but neither do I hate it. The anime, through its presentation, managed to mitigate some of the cringe factor, and the music, as always, elevated the emotional depth. It faithfully adhered to the source material, whether we found solace in its culmination or not. It's a testament to the anime's prowess that it took the source material and, for better or worse, enriched the experience.

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justmeinatree · 5 months

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01 - Astoria : Ripplin On By

Summary : you find yourself trapped on a pirate ship, desperate to be saved. or is the pirate that needs saving …

feels far from home close to the veil, goodbye mother’s fairytale

TW : murder, talks of sexual assault

Word Count : 5k

A/N : we can all thank @niallthebadboi for reminding me of the niall/james corden halloween music video 🤐

“oi, mate. mate, come here,” he whispers, his index finger in a come hither motion.

niall’s ears perk up, the quietness of the lower deck echoing even the faintest of sounds. he looks behind him, spotting one of the crew members, furrowing his eyebrows, “what is it ? m’a little busy.”

with his boots sludging through the thick waters on the bottom deck of the boat, the smell of the salt water mixed in with mould due to the slowly rotting wood, niall was filtering through boxes upon boxes. he knows he can find what he’s looking for, if he’s just given enough uninterrupted time. christ, there’s a lot of shit down here.

“did you hear ? there’s supposedly a lass on board.”

and well that, makes niall laugh, shaking his head, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that rumour. no way there’s a lady on this ship. not a single lass, in her right mind, would board onto a boat with a bunch of pirates. bloody death wish if she does,” he adds, muttering to himself.

“nah, s’not a rumour lad. can’t you feel it ?” he hums, smirking, dirty brown teeth poking through his chapped lips. “we can all tell. the energy’s different. oh what i would do to get my hands on a sweet young lady.”

“bloody disgusting you,” niall laughs, shaking his head. although he can’t help but fantasize about a woman from time to time. spending the majority of his adult life on a ship full of men, and maybe, just maybe, he can feel some sort of shift in the air. but that could simply be all the idiots up on deck getting themselves worked up for nothing. it’s not like it’s the first time niall hears about rumours like this one.

“can’t tell if i’d rather have a little taste, or pray for her wellbeing when she’s found,” he hums, shaking the thoughts out of his head, making his way back up, calling down to niall, “whoever finds her first gets first dibs.”

niall huffs, turning around and getting back to his task at hand. there was obviously nothing to get worked up about. because there was obviously no girl on the ship. they haven’t ported in almost a week now, no way a lady would have made it this long. pirate ships aren’t exactly anything close to nice accommodations.

but for now, he searches through crate upon crate, why they had so much crap stuffed away down here, he’ll never know. no one ever comes down here anyway, it’s too sludgy and too rotten. it’s not until he rounds a corner that he hears the small squeak. he’s no stranger to rats and mice, but this, well this wasn’t quite it.

peering over, he spots someone.

you were terrified. fear stricken over your features, back pressed against a wall ? some boxes ? you weren’t sure. it felt like your breath had caught into your throat, fingertips going slightly numb, unable to move an inch, as you stare back at him, panic settling into every bone in your body.

“hey,” niall hums, confusion etched on his face, because fuck, there really was a girl on this ship.

you coward back at the sound of his voice, small whimper leaving your chest, barely heard over the creaking of the old wood. your eyes squeezed shut, ready for the worst. it was hard to see his face, only small cracks of daylight filtering through the old wood to illuminate the dampened space. and with his hat perched upon his head, the specks of clarity weren’t quite reaching his face.

“no, no, s’alright,” niall murmurs, hand darting out for you, quickly retreating it when he notices you flinch away.

“please dont hurt me,” you hiccup, tears filling your eyes.

“m’not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” he coos, trying to muster up as much calm as he can. although he can’t say he’s felt much of anything remotely close to calm since joining this crew.

“no,” you hiccup again, bottom lip starting to tremble, pressing yourself impossibly further back. “i- i heard yo-you talking,” you stutter. “i know you’re gonna-a hurt me.”

“no, no,” niall coos, shaking his head. “that’s not-. you heard the othe-.” he sighs, biting his lip and starting over. “m’niall, what’s your name, love ?”

“dont call me that,” you huff, the tiniest bit of bite to your voice.

that pulls a smile from niall, a slight breathy chuckle, “alright, m’sorry. how about you tell me your name so i know what to call you.”

“y/n,” you murmur around a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your heart as your brain determines if there’s any imminent threat or not.

“y/n,” he hums, tasting it out on his tongue. “what are you doing on this ship ? s’not safe for you.”

“i messed up,” you peep quietly, fresh tears gathering in your eyes. “everyone was gone, and i just picked a boat. didn’t think there were pirates ported at the docks.”

niall bites back a laugh, not wanting to upset you, but still, what were the odds really. he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone with such bad luck. “we have to eat too,” he chuckles, “gotta reach port sometimes. have ya seriously been here all week ?”

you nod softly, sighing, “when they started coming back onto the ship, i ran down. just kept running. v’been hiding out here. you’re the first one to come down this far below deck.”

“you’ve been down here all week ?” he asks, shocked, eyes grown wide. “fuck, you can’t stay down here that long, you’ll get sick. there’s too much mould for you to breathe in.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you murmur, biting your lip, looking up at him with desperation, “s’better than going up there with the crew.”

and well, niall cannot disagree there. thinks he’d rather live down here with the rot and the sludge if the alternative was to head up to the crew and have every shred of his being ripped apart. so he nods, looking sadly at you, because you’re right, there’s no denying it. “must be hungry then. how about i get you some food ? try to track down some fresh water,” he suggests.

at that, you perk up, eyes shining with some level of hope for the first time, in a week, apparently. you nod, looking hopeful at niall, asking curiously, “when’s the next time we dock ?”

“not for at least another week, m’afraid,” he sighs, adding a bit more enthusiastically, “don’t think about that right now, just sit tight, i’ll be right back.”

and with that niall was off, bounding up the steps, loud wooden creaks echoing under each of his boots. he makes a bit of small talk with a few other crew mates as he passes them, fishing through crates and flour sacks full of beans, biscuits, and salted dried meats, grabbing a good handful of each, tucking them into his satchel.

unfortunately, he doesn’t remember a single day as a pirate where he’s actually had access to water. it’s always been beers and ales and rums. at least that’s what’s made readily available.

if he was going to find water, he’s going to have to sneak around, and sneaking around takes time. time he doesn’t think he has. for some reason, he fears for your safety. you were so innocent, so fragile, so full of fear when he found you gazing back at him. he can’t even begin to imagine what the others would do if they found you. doesn’t think he’ll be able to live with himself if he has to watch that innocence get wiped off your pretty porcelain face. he may be a pirate, but his mam raised a good man.

and although the crew typically never hits the lowest deck, one of them is bound to discover you. especially with the flying rumour of a young lass on board.

so he decides, for now, that some ale is the best he can do in terms of beverage, figuring he’ll have more time to sneak around once all the lads are passed out drunk for the night.

when he returns to the lowest deck, he finds you sitting on one of the large crates, feet tucked up to give your poor skin a break from the constant saturation. he feels his heart grow heavy. a now foreign feeling to him, as he’s learned to grow a thick callous around his emotions. if he spends too much time contemplating his life decisions over the last decade, he’ll throw himself overboard. there are countless moments for which he’s significantly less than proud of. murder being a number of them. he’s just had to do what he’s had to do.

but with you, being dealt a really bad hand, stuck on a pirate ship, condemned to a level that the pirates themselves don’t really come to, he feels real sadness, and real fear, and real protectiveness. he wants to help you. he’s not sure why, he’s never felt the need to help anyone. but seeing that desperation in your eyes, and the sheer willpower you’ve held onto for this long, he empathizes with you in ways he’s not even sure he fully understands.

niall trudges over to you, placing his satchel down on the crate next to you, opening it up to show you its contents. “sorry it’s nothing better. s’really all that survives the long trips.”

“don’t worry about it, please. it’s food,” you smile, reaching in and taking a handful of beans.

“i couldn’t find any water,” he sighs, “that one’s going to be a bit harder to come by. i’ll go lurking later tonight, when they’re all passed out,” he nods towards the upper deck, where the crew are currently working. “for now though, i hope ale’s okay ? at least it’ll fix the thirst for a bit, yeah ?” he hums hopefully.

your smile only grows wider, swallowing down a bite of the biscuit you had reached for, “niall, don’t make a fuss,” you murmur softly. “you’ve gotten me a meal, and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. i really appreciate all of it,” you hum, taking a sip and another bite, finding yourself hungrier than you thought. the slowly waning adrenaline causing your body to need a refuel.

“it’s no problem,” niall smiles, “really. just want you to stay safe, and to make it off this ship unharmed.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, your eyes trained down on the food he’s provided. you could not have a crush on a pirate. you. could. not. you had to get off this ship and never, ever, look back. fuck.

you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “you seem too nice to be a pirate.”

niall’s mouth quirks up in a smirky smile, breathy chuckle rumbling from his chest, he shakes his head, “there’s a lot of nice lads here. but pirate mentality tends to take over and the next thing you know, you’re doing something you’d never ever thought of doing.”

your eyes lock with his, reading him for a moment, a silent moment, as you both exchange a sad, knowing gaze, “would it have been different if you weren’t alone when you found me ?”

at that, niall sighs, shoulders deflating. he reaches up on his head, gripping his hat and taking it off, resting it on the crate, behind you. it’s the first time you see him without it, expecting to finally get a glace at his hair, you’re only slightly disappointed to see a tattered, muted green bandana wrapped around his head. although you do note peaks of brown tousles poking through behind his ears and by his neck. small hoops pierced through his lobes.

without his hat, more light hits his eyes, which you note are a deep blue. his skin was tanned, darkened from long days in the blistering sun. he’s gorgeous. you cannot. cannot. have a crush on a pirate.

“i’d like to believe that i would have stood up for you,” niall murmurs. “like to believe that when i saw that look in your eyes, i’d be getting them away from you. can’t even begin to imagine the alternative, to be honest, darling.”

you let the pet name slide, too caught up with the fact that he keeps saying he’d like to believe. it’s not quite as reassuring as you’d hoped. you aren’t completely sure how much you can trust him yet. after all, a bit of food is a nice peace offering, but he hasn’t proven himself just yet.

it’s a few hours after that, before you see niall again. he does need to spend some time, enough time, with the crew, working. he can’t let anyone notice that he’s gone too long. or at least, where he’s going. if any of the lads find out that he’s spending time down there, they’ll suspect something. he needs to do this very delicately. needs to be smart about this.

as he returns, he smiles wide at you, waving a pair of boots around. “smallest ones i could find, keep your feet dry.”

your eyebrows furrow squinting your eyes, the darkness of early evening settling, less and less daylight filtering through the small cracks in the wood.

“s’hard to see innit ?” niall hums, patting his pants, fingers finding some matches in one of the pockets, striking one against a crate to light it, the dim flame just enough to illuminate his face and the pair of boots he’s holding up.

“you got me some boots ?” you look up at him, a burst of warmth spreading through your chest, biting your lip softly as you reach for them, slipping them on. “these are perfect,” you hum, clicking your feet together.

niall searches the walls and ceiling, finding a small gas lamp, unhooking it from its perch, and lighting it. a small corner of space sees proper lighting for the first time in a long time. taking a look around, he thinks he prefers it when it’s dark.

but upon looking over at your feet, he sees you were exaggerating quite a bit. the boots were far from perfect, much too big on you. “you seem to be handling all of this really well for someone as prim and proper as you are.”

you laugh, a true laugh, your first one in god knows how long, shaking your head. “didn’t grow up like this,” you explain, hands waving up and down to display your expensive dress. “one of the richest men in town, for some reason, had his sights set on me.”

“make that sound like a bad thing,” niall hums, hoisting himself up on the crate across from you, setting his hat down again.

“i hate him,” you murmur vehemently. and again, you both lock eyes in a silent moment, the flame flickering a dim glow over both of your features, intensifying the connection.

niall snaps out of it first, “wanted to bring you the boots, and check in on ya. it’s gotten pretty dark out, the crew’ll be out cold in a bit. i’ll try to find you some water. i’ll be back. keep that light, makes it a little less glum.”

and again, he’s off, just as quickly as he came. you were forever grateful for the bits of company. and the little things he’d bring you every time he dropped on by. in the meantime though, you were lonely. tucked away in the depths of despair, longing and awaiting for your gorgeous pirate’s return.

christ, stop. you did not have a crush. you did not. however, you could admit to yourself that having a place of escape, in your mind that is, helped pass the time a little bit. a place where you and niall were on a grand adventure at sea, wind billowing in your hair, fresh salty air, nothing but beautiful sunsets on the horizon.

how you longed for a breath of fresh air. to feel the wind on your skin. it was getting increasingly hard to be held up like you were. you had no idea that rot and severe lack of sunlight could affect someone so quickly.

you were growing increasingly desperate. and thinking back, niall had mentioned countless times that the crew pass out cold at night. maybe you could sneak around too ? just enough to make it a bit higher up.

this was foolish, you kept telling yourself as you take slow steps towards the stairs, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself. it’s like if your body could feel its impending death if it stayed put. your sheer will to have some clean air seemingly taking over the fear for a split moment.

you were two floors up before you started noticing signs of life. sticking to the empty staircase, peering over quietly to notice breathing lumps of men, tucked into hammocks slung around randomly.

continuing on your way, you stop a few steps from the very top, sitting on it, not risking being seen on the wide open deck. you breathe in deeply, crisp nighttime air filling your lungs. tilting your head back, eyes blinking up, you notice the vast array of stars. smiling to yourself, you enjoy a moment of calm.

that is, until you hear some sounds from below you. what seems to be a conversation. and by the rumbling, tumbling steps, and the slurring, cackling voices, you’d best believe they were drunk. with the sounds getting louder, they were heading up to the top deck.

panic rising in your chest, your eyes dart from side to side, figuring there was nowhere to go but up. you climb the rest of the stairs, finding the large expanse of the ship to be empty. rushing, you look around to find a hiding spot, just about to take your first step towards a barrel, when a bone chilling sentence hits your brain.

“well, well, well. look at what we have here.”

“hmm, pretty young lady. looks like we get to have some fun tonight.”

you whimper, frozen in fear, hearing the loud chuckle from behind you, “i get her first !” one of them shouts, surging forward and gripping your shoulder. he walks you forward towards the very barrel you were planning to dash for, just moments ago, pressing on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, bending you over.

you can feel him lean over you, pressed up against you, murmuring against your ear, “such a little treat aren’t you ?”

“what the-“ you hear from further behind you, the man no longer pressed against you, as he looks behind himself.

“fuck- what are you-“ just as you look behind yourself, curiously panicked, worried that you may have an even worse imminent future ahead.

instead you’re met with the sight of your attacker, pulled back into niall’s chest, held down by his mouth to muffle any sounds, watching niall glide a blade through your attacker’s throat.

you feel as if your heart was about to beat out of your throat, eyes bulging wide, trying to take in the scene in front of you. two men, in a heap on the floor, throats gushing blood. you were gasping for breath, slowly backing away, until your back hit the barrel.

“what in god’s name are you doing ?” niall snaps, looking around to make sure no one’s seen anything. “why would you do something so fucking stupid ?”

he was furious. and you could tell. instantly regretting your decision to try and reach some upper floors. “i-“ you sigh, looking down, unable to look him in the eye. you felt like a small child, being scolded. and truthfully, you deserved it. what you did was stupid. and if niall hadn’t found you right then and there, you’re not sure what would be happening right now.

your gaze tentatively flicks up towards his, shame plastered on your features, as you do something you never imagined doing. you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around niall, the force of it all making him take a few steps back.

he was shocked. he hadn’t been privy to a hug in over a decade. his eyes blink rapidly a few times, before slowly wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you to him, hearing a faint, “thank you for saving me,” puff out from your lips, warm breath hitting his neck.

niall’s eyes flutter closed, his head resting against yours, taking in a breath. the fresh cleanliness of the soap you used in your hair was still clinging on, under the scent of the sea, a welcomed change his nostrils revelled in.

he found himself relaxing into your arms, the protective anger he was feeling over you fading, murmuring, “please tell me what the fuck you were doing.”

you slowly pull away from the hug, sighing, “i was desperate for some fresh air. you kept talking about the crew passing out at night, figured it’d be my best shot,” you shrug.

“christ, darling, let me in on your plans next time yeah ? let me keep you safe. d’ya have any idea how bad that could have been if i wasn’t here ?” he shakes his head. “fuck, lets not think about that. need to take care of my mess. then m’gonna find you a change of clothes. can’t have ya sneaking around in that dress. s’too obvious.”

he turns around, hoisting the bodies one at a time, rolling them over the edge of the ship, to crash into the frigid waters below.

“niall, you-“ you take a deep breath, your shoulders slugging, “you killed two people. for me. i- fuck, i can’t believe i-“

“shh,” he hums, shaking his head, pressing his index finger against your lips when he notices you about to speak again. “don’t have ta say it. m’honestly so fucking glad i was here.”

your breath catches as his finger makes contact with your mouth, a tingle of warmth spreading through your entire body, leaving your fingers and toes slightly numb. for a moment you find yourself wanting nothing more than to kiss him. with the sweat on his brow and the dirt on his skin, and fuck even the blood on his hands, you were so attracted to him. you cannot have a crush on a bloody pirate.

he slowly pulls his finger away, eyes locked on yours, feeling the erratic beating in his chest, because my god, he’s never felt such soft lips. doesn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone so bad in so long. not that there’s been even remotely close to a kissing prospect. “c’mon, that’s gotta be enough fresh air for today. can’t risk it any longer. lets get you back down there, darling. i’ll go sleuthing for some clothes.”

“niall,” you rush out, gripping into his arm just as he was trying to walk away, “thank you. for everything.”

a small smile tugs at his lips, blush rising to his cheeks, turning away again and setting off with you, making sure the coast is clear every step of the way, until you’re back to the safety of the bottom deck.

it had been days since your little adventure to the outside. and as much as you were craving a trip back up, you were slightly petrified.

niall had brought you some clothes, and even though you could fairly blend in with the crew, you weren’t quite ready to test it for real.

in the meantime, niall’s been your source of friendship, coming to check on you regularly, whenever he could sneak away, bringing you food and drinks. he even tracked down some water for you a couple of times.

tonight, however, you couldn’t hold out anymore. so when niall comes by for his late evening visit, you hop down from the crate you’d made yourself comfortable on, bounding over to him, “can we go up tonight ?”

he looks over you, eyes wide, “you really want to try that again ?” he asks quietly, out of fear for you. fear of what could happen to you, to him for hiding you.

but with the large puppy eyes you were feeding him and the severe level of empathy he has for you, he ends up giving in pretty quickly, nodding his approval, “yeah, alright. suppose it’s something you need. please stay close. and do whatever i say.”

“yes sir,” you smirk, saluting him. as soon as your hand left your forehead, you felt like a complete fool. embarrassing yourself in front of the man whom you’ve grown more and more affection towards.

he giggles though, a real giggle, shaking his head at you, “m’a pirate, not in the fuckin navy, darling.”

you laugh along with him, ever grateful for him. you’re unsure of how you’ll ever be able to thank him for all that he’s done for you. including murder for fuck sake. you have to come up with something before leaving the ship.

you stay quiet, following him up the stairs, niall checking each floor as he goes, confirming that everyone is rightfully asleep. once he makes it to the top deck, he takes one look around, finding the entirety of the space, completely abandoned. niall’s hand reaches out for yours, helping you up the last few steps.

taking a deep breath, your eyes close momentarily, enjoying the feeling of whipping wind against your skin, tiny droplets of sea water spraying you from time to time. it was so refreshing, so incredibly needed after the time down below.

walking over to the edge, hands gripped into the side of the ship, looking at the vast expanse of pure, pitch, darkness. there was nothing but stars as far as the eye could see.

niall coming over to stand next to you, he hums softly, “what’s got you so focused ? s’nothing but black out there.”

“kinda nice innit ?” you ask quietly, “the stars, the open sea, how tiny we really are in the grand scheme of things.”

“you think that’s nice ?” he asks, slightly confused. “isn’t that a bit scary ? what’s the point of it all ? we wont really make a difference anyway.”

at that, you hum, your head resting against niall’s shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping itself around your shoulders. you never thought you’d be over the moon to be cuddled up with a pirate, but he actually made you feel comfortable, safe, a feeling that was fairly foreign for you at this point. and you were revelling in it.

“you think you won’t make a difference ?” you ask softly, turning yourself a bit more into him, “you’ve already made a huge one,” you explain. “you’ve saved me. saved my life.”

“but-“ niall furrows his eyebrows, “that’s just how my mam raised me. to be kind. s’not really making a difference in the world.”

you shake your head, humming a protest, “one person can’t change the entire world, that would be a bit of a pompous thought,” you chuckle, adding quietly, “but you’ve made a difference in my world.”

niall feels his heart burst, prickling heat shooting from his chest throughout his entire body. he buries his face in your hair, pulling you closer to him, “think you’ve made an even bigger difference in mine.”

moments before he was about to turn your face towards his, he hears it, a deep chuckle coming from behind, “looks like nialler found a treasure. gonna share with your brothers ?”

he feels you go stiff as a board next to him, feels the moment the air leaves your body, feels the panic encompassing every fibre of your being. he looks down at you, trying to convey any form of safety in his gaze, mouthing to you, “run,” before pushing you off towards the stairs.

instantly, the other man is taking off after you, bounding down the stairs two at a time, niall quickly in toe.

you just make it back to your dark and dingy secluded hideout, when a large, rough hand presses you into one of the crates in front of you, making your forehead smack down hard on the wood.

you whimper, the man’s hands closing on your hips, squeezing roughly, painfully. and just like the last time, a moment later, he’s lifted off of you, niall’s blade slicing through his neck.

niall’s catching his breath, trying to calm his nerves, as he looks down at the scene, taking the moment in for the first time, because fuck, this is not good.

he looks up at you, noting the gash on your forehead, “christ, darling, you alright ?” he asks, fingertip darting out to gently touch the wound.

you flinch back, bottom lip trembling, as you feel yourself giving out, niall quick to catch you before you fall into the sludge water, leaning heavily on him, face tucked into his neck, “i can’t do this anymore,” you cry softly. “i can’t, i can’t. i need air, i need sun, fuck,” you tremble. “m’always so scared. i just can’t anymore niall.”

he holds you tightly, heart shattering for you. you hadn’t asked for this. you were a good person. you didn’t deserve any of this. mind reeling after the events of just moments ago, niall comes up with a plan, “we’re getting off this ship.”

“what ?” you ask exhaustedly, peering up at him, every ounce of your being, drained.

“you can’t stay here anymore. s’too dangerous. and you need air. we’ll take one of the lifeboats,” he explains, before nodding towards the body, “s’the first mate. someone’s going to notice he’s missing. and m’not about to lug him all the way up to throw him overboard, someone’ll see.”

“niall, i can’t make you do that,” you sigh. “can’t make you leave the safety of the ship for me.”

he cups your neck in his large hand, his thumb stroking your jaw, eyes peering into your own, conviction in his tone, “can’t go alone, darling. i told you i’d keep you safe. couldn’t live with myself if you were out there all alone. we’re leaving. tonight.”

Part 2

……

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