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mistypsych · 11 months

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ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL yoongi / suga / agust d (teaser)

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. Hope the teaser catchers your attention! Let me know if you want to be in the tag list.

Blood was pumping threw your body with speed that seemed to be at hundreds miles per hour. The dizziness that came from all the adrenalin was slowly creeping up your brain. Your heart tried to climb out threw your now completely dry throat. You still couldn’t fathom how in the world you turned out to be naive and blind enough to find yourself in this damn situation.

The fact that the person who dragged you into all of this was standing petrified and held at gunpoint, was not making it any easier. The tall and well built male whom others referred to as Joon was staring you down while holding his silver piece close to Jungkooks head. “You better not try some bullshit bitch!” he snarled angrily. His gaze was locked onto your back. You could swear you felt the heat of his eyes burning threw your skin.

You were sweaty, your hair was messy and stuck to your forehead. While elbows deep in blood you tried to stop the hemorrhaging. The long haired male laying in front of you with horrific wounds was getting paler by the minute. You were smart enough to figure out he most likely was the boss of this whole group of questionable men.

“He needs a fucking hospital!” a hoarse scream flew out of your lips while you were desperately trying to stop the blood. At this point you felt it was almost overflowing the whole abdominal cavity.

The brunette moved up and took his gun away from your colleges head just to put it to your temple. The coldness of the metal sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed the dry ball forming in your mouth. You were slowly out of ideas. This was not a place for dealing with such wounds. In your mind you knew the young man should be on an operating table with blood bags hanging already. “I said no fucking hospitals!” the roared words snapped you back to reality and pierced threw you like an arrow.

“No way in hell am I gonna pull this shit off” you thought to yourself almost giving up. You were at the point of exhaustion you slowly stoped to care if you got shot or not. In all honesty you were slowly shitting yourself, the scenario of this whole fucked up deal was staring to hit you hard. Not only was some thugs life on the line but so was yours and your friends. The same damn friend who got you into this predicament in the first place.

As much as you wanted to rip Kooks stupid head right off his shoulders, you knew you had to focus on the task. It was the only way out of there. You closed your eyes trying to forget about the cold sting coming from the weapon that was painfully pushed against your scull.

Exhaling threw your nose loudly you suddenly thought of something. It was brutal but you had to try. “Get me salt!” you finally spat out. “Are you fucking crazy?!” one of the men standing at the door growled. He was shorter and of a lighter built but still had something about him that made your skin crawl. All of them made you feel extremely uneasy and wonder if you were gonna die even if you end up saving their main man. You saw them. You knew their faces and location. Were they really gonna let you walk out of there breathing?

Looking into the still not moving gangsters misty eyes you gritted your teeth. “I SAID GET ME SOME DAMN SALT YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!” the words shot out of your mouth faster then you could think them threw. Luckily the insult only got them to move and fetch what you wanted. In a different situation you could imagine such talkback would only earn you a proper wack.

Jungkook looked at you with worried eyes. He was trembling a bit knowing what you were planning on doing. He heard some stories about this so called “last hope” method. It was mainly used at the military when doctors were out of supplies and tools. He knew you were always fascinated by medical work in the army. Still he prayed that you had at least the slightest idea about what you were doing and were aware of all the possible outcomes.

Of course you weighed your options. This approach was not something you would do while at the hospital but given your situation you had little to no choice. You could let this shady dude die and have your life taken with him or you could try and use a risky method.

Taking the pack of salt in your surprisingly steady hands you looked at the full of lesions and oozing abdomen. Taking a deep breath you tossed the powder.

Everyone in the room except for your coworker looked in utter shock and went silent for a while. Then a “The fuck you think you are doing?!” was let out in a high pitched note by someone.

You barely made out the next obscenities that were being thrown around by the now very anxious group of criminals. You steered yourself into your work zone. Staring at the cavity you already knew you dealt your cards well. The blood finally stopped flooding in and you could now start looking for all the torn vessels and start stitching them up.

Once more you closed your eyes, moved your head to both sides. The motion let out a loud crack and gave a little relief to your aching neck. Grabbing the suturing kit from the medical bag you began to work your magic.

Being a highly well trained trauma surgeon made you capable of working fast and efficiently under hefty amounts of stress. But no training at the hospital could prepare you for being trapped in a hellhole stitching up some shady persona while being held at gunpoint. And sure as fuck no one had you ready for all that was about to come next in your life…

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babbletaels · 14 days

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After playing sky for a while and not going through the elder cutscenes since the first time, I decided to do just that. I had such a powerful experience my first time in eden that I didn't want to let that experience go, I based my theories around it even. Right. I thought I was meeting myself, offering myself forgiveness for not being able to save everyone, forgiving myself and being forgiven all at the same time. But I have some more lore heavy ideas and theories now. Though I still don't know everything there is to know, so take it with a grain of salt.

I watched the Vault elders cutscene last, of course, and I realized that I had completely forgotten this one after all this time. Maybe you have too, so let's go through it a little.

You get to see all the elders constellations light up with more detail, then they all gather and bow to you to thank you, then you're shown.. A constellation that looks like a crown.

All the realms have constellations: this must be edens constellation of course. A crown. A king?

A king in a castle, what else could it be? I don't know what orb he is holding. When I saw this, it went really fast by and I got the feeling that by his expression the king is distraught, stuck in his castle, and immediately after you're teleported into the room that leads you to eden. All the elders showing up, bowing to you, showing you a distraught king in a castle and then taking you to the gate to eden, it seems clear to me that they're sending us on a mission: You saved us, despite what we did, please save him too.

So the next time I went to eden I would keep this in mind, I'm going there to find and save the king. But I've been to eden many times, I already know that I'll never meet the king, even if I save every single statue I won't save the king, because I never have saved him any of the other times.

I go to eden to fail my mission once again.

But with the king who I'll never meet in mind, things seem different. This time in eden I just so happen, maybe it was a glitch, to make it to the very last petrified friend with 18 winged light left. What do I do, just sit here and wait for death by falling rocks? I'm down to 10 winged light and I start crawling toward the giant crystal that never seems to get closer. Maybe.. What if I did make it there? Would I find him? But I didn't make it to the crystal, of course. I fall. I go through the painfully slow limping towards my winged light. I reach my savior.

And I stop for a moment to think. Why IS he sitting there, looking sad.. looking.. guilty? I reach my hand out and he takes it hesitantly. Of course maybe he is lonely but then wouldn't he be happy someone is here to get him? But it strikes me.

I'm not here to be saved from my doom, I'm not here in this room with a winged light who I need to revive myself. This light needs something from me. I help him up from the floor. He looks at me. I have the option to offer him a silent hug. I imagine if I had been here for the first time, what did I think this was? A hug of forgiveness to myself. Maybe I wasn't totally wrong after all. Because the light hesitates as I extend my arms to him, as if he's thinking

I don't deserve forgiveness

But I have already forgiven him. Does he know you don't need to think you deserve it for another person to forgive you? Because he accepts my embrace, and as he accepts being forgiven, he saves himself at the same time as he saves me. He's with me now, there's a crack where light streams in, and we fly out of the darkness together finally reaching the place beyond the crystal. His castle.

Idk.

Some people say the "winged light" in there is prince alef. I never understood why really. But I always for some reason believed the prince and the king to be the same person (obviously at different points in his life) so I kinda see it now.

(screenshots from sky wikis youtube channel because I wasn't fast enough to screenshot the actual cutscene)

#sky: cotl #sky children of the light #sky cotl #skyblr #sky: children of the light

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sajirah · 3 months

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The Prison Chapter One

The Prison

In honor of me being newly unemployed and House of Flame and Shadow dropping in less than 2 weeks I wrote a thing. You can read it here or on AO3. Enjoy.

-o0o-

Feyre was a murderer.

That was why she was here after all, staring out at the island that was soon to be her prison. She probably deserved it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely petrified to be here.

“Any advice?” She asked the marine unlocking her shackles.

He glanced up at her, considering, and then said, “Pretty thing like you? Find the meanest, nastiest fucker on that island and convince him to protect you.”

Feyre didn’t need the soldier to explain how exactly she was expected to ‘convince’ said man. She’d already had plenty of nightmares of exactly that scenario after her sentencing. The worst part was his advice was probably one of her better options.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly. I think.

He didn’t reply, only pulled off her shackles and then took a strong hold of her arm. She didn’t know why he bothered. It’s not like she could hijack this boat and sail it back home all by herself. She didn’t even know how to drive a car, let alone a boat. She supposed she’d never learn now.

The captain stepped in front of her then, weary and clearly wishing he was anywhere else.

The feeling is mutual pal.

“Feyre Archeron, you have been sentenced to life on The Prison. Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?”

The woman in question stared at him blankly. What was even the point? He was going to throw her onto an island of rapists and murderers no matter what she said. She’d already screamed and cried and swore at her trial. What more could she possibly say?

The captain had the gall to look annoyed. As if she were the one ruining his day.

“Right,” He turned to the marine holding her arm. “Toss her and let’s leave this fucking place.”

Toss her?! “Wait, what?!-” But it was already too late and before she could react the marine was hoisting her up and shoving her overboard.

Icy seawater hit her like a ton of bricks. The shock froze her limbs for precious seconds as her mind tried to reorientate itself. Kick! She thought frantically. After a few terrifying moments her body obeyed.

Salt stung her eyes as she broke the surface and sucked in oxygen but she still managed to see the blurry shape of the boat as it passed her and glided off towards the horizon.

“Fuck you!” She shouted after it. It was petty, but who was going to care about her behavior now? Her dead mother? Her absent father? Her sisters she hadn’t seen since she’d been hauled off by the police?

The island loomed large a quarter mile behind her. She supposed it didn’t matter to the courts if their prisoners actually made it onto the island. Just that they’d been dumped within its vicinity so there was no hope of them ever escaping.

How far even was the mainland from here? Thirty miles? Forty? Fifty? It had taken at least a few hours to get here. They’d left at 9 am sharp and if the sun was anything to go by it was barely noon. Not that any of this mattered. She was never going home.

No one escaped The Prison.

For a few indulgent moments Feyre considered letting herself drown. As terrible as it seemed, it certainly had its appeal compared to eking out a miserable existence on an island full of dangerous criminals. After all, they didn’t send just anyone to The Prison. Only the worst of the worst for this place. Murderers. Serial killers. Violent rapists. Enemies of the rich and powerful.

It was dizzying to think she was considered one of them now.

She let the moment of self pity linger and then let it go. Right. She’d never been a quitter. She wasn’t about to start now.

Resigned, she pointed herself towards the island and started swimming.

-o0o-

Feyre arrived upon her new home’s doorstep looking, for all intents and purposes, like a drowned cat.

It had taken her at least an hour to swim to shore, fighting six foot waves and avoiding what she desperately hoped were not sharks. She couldn’t be sure but she swore something had bumped up against her in the water at some point and hadn’t she read somewhere that sharks bumped into their prey before they circled around to take a bite out of them?

Shivering, she glanced down the beach, hoping against hope none of her fellow prisoners had seen her, but almost immediately she spied two men melting out of the tree line.

Well fuck.

Adrenaline flooded her veins and she scrambled to her feet as one of the men crept closer, holding his hands up as if she were a spooked horse. He was older, hair grayed and skin weathered by the sun. Clothes barely more than rags. Was this what awaited her if she managed to survive as long as him? Rotted teeth and preying upon new arrivals like scavengers?

“Easy there doll. We’re not gonna hurt ya…”

Either he thought she was a moron or he was one himself because Feyre knew exactly what that man had planned for her and quite a lot of hurt was involved.

“Bet you’re real hungry after that swim,” the other man said. He was younger than his companion, but in many ways he looked worse off. Starved and mean looking. “We’ve got some food over at our camp. We’ll share it…”

Even if she were desperate enough to take him up on his offer, his hollow cheekbones and bony wrists led her to believe that statement was a load of bullshit.

She waited, muscles coiled and tense as the men drew ever closer. Suddenly the skinny one reached out, attempting to make a grab for her but Feyre was ready for him. She kicked the sand and it arced up and sprayed straight into his eyes. He howled, clutching at his face, and stumbled forward but she was already bolting out of reach and into the forest.

“Wait, come back!” The older man shouted.

“I can’t see!” The other roared. “I’ll fucking kill her!”

But Feyre was already putting as much distance between her and her would-be captors as possible, not knowing which direction she was going except that it was ‘anywhere but here’. She heard the older man crashing in the underbrush just behind her, shouting at her like she were an unruly dog set loose.

She didn’t even realize his shouts had stopped until she was halfway up the hill. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing but trees and ferns.

Good.

She kept climbing.

-o0o-

It’s getting dark.

That was all Feyre could think as she wandered the woods in search of food and shelter. So far she’d found a tiny stream of questionable quality and a crooked stick. She supposed she could poke someone’s eye out with it if she was very lucky and her attacker were very still but she wasn’t holding out much hope in that department. Unfortunately the other items on her survival list had yet to be discovered.

Though with the way the sun was going down she was starting to worry. The temperature was dropping rapidly and though her clothes had long since dried they weren’t exactly made to keep one warm in near freezing weather. When she’d first realized they intended to send her off to her final destination in only her prison uniform she’d nearly fought them.

“You can’t be serious!” She’d raged at the officers escorting her onto the boat. “How am I supposed to survive without a coat? A knife? A lighter?”

The officers had been silent but their message was loud and clear: You don’t.

They expected her to die out here. They expected them all to die out here. Well clearly they hadn’t met Feyre. If there was one thing she was good at it was survival. And spite.

Especially that last one.

Still, if she didn’t find shelter soon even sheer undiluted spite was going to have trouble keeping her warm.

It took another hour before she found what she was looking for.

In the dying light, she spotted a little burrow under a rocky outcrop. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was better than her current options which were…nothing. It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but it would mostly protect her from the elements and, more importantly, keep her out of sight. The last thing she needed was another of her fellow prisoners happening upon her while she slept.

As she wormed her way into the muddy crevice, she wistfully reminisced upon her bed back home.

To think, just a year ago she had been sitting in an upscale dining hall, celebrating her sister’s marriage. If someone had told her then what her future held she never would’ve believed them.

And still, she couldn’t fully regret the actions that had led her here.

Perhaps if she hadn’t seen the bruises littering Nesta’s arms things would’ve been different, but she had. And once she had seen them she couldn’t unsee them, no matter how many long sleeved dresses and cardigans her sister wore afterwards. Feyre still had the image of purple fingerprints dotting her sister’s wrist branded into the backs of her eyelids. Nesta never said a word about them. No matter how many times Feyre and Elain begged her to. She had been the very picture of the quiet, demure wife.

And Feyre had hated it.

Perhaps it would’ve gone on indefinitely like that, Nesta’s stoic silence and her sisters’ outspoken concern, but then it had happened.

It had been over something innocuous, his breakfast not being done on time, his coffee being too hot, or his newspaper not being laid out on the table the way he liked. Whatever it was, all Feyre remembered was the way her sister had reacted to her husband’s ire, braced and waiting for a blow. She’d seen it in her eyes. The hatred. The fear. The self loathing of having her sisters here to witness her humiliation. And then he’d grabbed her by the chin, fingers pressed deep enough to leave marks and Feyre had seen red.

Perhaps she truly deserved to be here for what had happened next. For the sheer satisfaction she had felt as she’d watched him bleed out around the butter knife in his eye socket. All she had known then was that this man would never touch her sister again.

She had never lost a moment’s sleep after doing what she did. When she had closed her eyes in her cell after her arrest the only thing she had regretted was the looks of horror and disbelief on her sisters’ faces. She hated that her final memories of her family were those.

But she still couldn’t regret it. No amount of wealth was worth broken bones. Nesta may have been willing to live in gilded luxury for the price of her battered body, but that wasn’t a trade Feyre agreed with. Better her sister live a rich widow who hated her. Better she was thrown to the rapists and murderers.

And I’d do it again. Every time. Feyre thought as she curled into the mud and let her exhaustion lull her to sleep.

Elsewhere, in the gathering dark, something stirred. The other prisoners retreated to the shoreline. They knew better than to enter the forest at night.

There you are. A voice whispered into Feyre’s dreams. I’ve been waiting for you.

#the prison #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #acotar #feysand #you don’t understand I haven’t written anything in ages #this is so unbaeted and for that I am sorry #I wrote this in a mad rush over the last two days #I don’t think I even remember what day it is today

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harryleatherfit · 8 months

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for so long ༻꧂

part 2 >< kissing

5k dbf!neighbor!joel x fem!reader

𓆉 series master list 𓆉 main master list 𓆉

𓆉 series playlist 𓆉

warnings: [NO OUTBREAK], another woman, angst, alcohol consumption, v fingering, age gap (joel 47 reader 24) dbf!joel, dom!joel, mentions of death; grief etc. , heavy petting, clit play,

authors note: my classes start next week and i’m petrified. not having a set time to write will kill me, but i will make time! dbf!joel is so special to me and i need to finish upper east side. feel free to submit any ideas or thoughts you have for the series that you think i should include 🍊🍊🍊 gift to you all since it’s friday ;)

(and now as i want to write dbf joel now i’m thinking of doing a javier and oberyn fic oml i need to finish something first)

as always, comments and feedback is always always welcomed 𓇼

word count: 5K

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Salting, flavor 𖦹 Lies like a sailor

But he loves like a painter 𖦹 Billions

Psycho, priceless 𖦹 Good in a crisis

Working the angles 𖦹 Billions

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You forced yourself to get up and leave that dock, leaving behind your incident with Joel. You understood why he left, but at least you got what you had of him for that time. You chugged the last of the nasty beer, walking slowly off the dock to your house.

The party was still going on, but you didn’t want anyone to see you. Eyes bloodshot from being awake for so long, you thought you’d pass out immediately if you had to talk to anyone else. Detouring behind trees, you wind out to the front of the house again, entering the code to the garage. The music was loud and you felt bad for ditching your own welcome home party, but you would make it up to James and your dad.

You snuck into the kitchen for food without anyone seeing you, praying that Joel wouldn’t see you, or better off if they already left to go home.

Just in time as you're hauling the food upstairs, and the moment you realize you need your stuff from your dads car, you can hear Joel talking to someone. Not Tommy, Sarah or your dad. Another woman.

Backing down a few steps carefully so you don’t get caught in the line of sight, his back is turned against you, thankfully.

And this hag touching the collar of Joel’s shirt.

“We could host a fourth of July party together Joel, it would be fun.” She moves to his ear.

He backs up a little against the railing, looking to the side.

“Mary, you know how I feel about this.”

This.

“What Joel? We kissed one time, and then you were the one that took things further. You can’t blame me for wanting more.”

You see that he stays stagnant, he doesn’t even twitch with her there so close to him. She moves down his chest.

Not giving a fuck, you place the food at the top of the stairs, delicately walking back down to interupt their little frisk to go to your dad’s truck.

Trying not to wince when you see her kissing his cheek, the sexual desire making you almost puke. Bealining to open the front door,

“Honey, where are you going?”

Caught.

The last thing you wanted to talk to was these two. And you were so tired. At this point you were so sleep deprived talking still made sense, but everything said to you would slip pass and not register. You looked high, from your eyes being bloodshot, and your body was aching to just lay down in silence. Almost enjoying the misery of being so tired.

When you were tired, it was easy to get aggravated, your face would minisculely show if you were annoyed or pissed but now you had to do a straight face.

Turning around, the hairs on your back stand up right, swallowing.

Now you know, this was Mary Anne.

Your dad would always complain about this woman on the phone. The description he gave you matched perfectly and the tone of her voice sounded like high pitch nails clinging against each other.

Avoiding Joel, with obvious lipstick marks all over his face, they separated from each other when you turned around.

“You must be Mary Anne, my dad has talked about you quite a lot.” You smile, not once looking at Joel.

“Your father is too sweet, he’s really happy to have you back.”

“I’m happy to be back too, the town has expanded a lot.”

“Well thank Joel here, he and his brother have done all of that!” She pats his chest, nothing but disgust shingles through your head.

One minute he’s out with you, almost giving your heart to him. And here he is, being a fucking typical man.

You smile and nod at Joel, grabbing the door being you.

“James has missed you too, he talks about you all the time at baseball practice.”

Making eye contact, “I forgot you’re an assistant coach, that must be fun.”

Of course she was, it was just fucking weird at this point.

“Yeah, coaching the boys for the summer has been fun, I drive James home when your dad is stuck at the restaurant, I live just down the street so if you need anything let me know.”

You feel like your eyes unfocus and you’re just staring at this woman, just begging your body to leave.

“And I’m so sorry for your-” Here it comes. “Loss, James talks about your mama sometimes and I can imagine she was an incredible person.”

In your head, you shake your head and fucking scream, but now you freeze and stare at her.

You do let your mouth hang open, sucking in fire for air. Not in an upset way, but almost faking a yawn. It was childlike, but to them you felt small.

Joel is still, just fucking standing there and you know he’s looking at you out of pity.

“Mhm, thank you Mary Anne, I’m so sorry, I’m really tired and I was just going to grab my stuff out of my dad's truck.”

“Aww that’s okay honey, we're just about to leave too.” She laughs up at Joel.

Scoffing, you open the door and silently scream, and when you do leave the house you’re falling, falling to the ground.

Fucking perfect.

Mary Anne gasps and she tells Joel to get your father, instead he comes to you.

“Jason! Jason she fell, get out here!” She yells.

Thinking you’re okay, you try to get up, but no way in hell does that work when you fall straight down again.

You hear everyone rushing out to the porch and suddenly Joel’s strong hands grab your body.

“Don’t touch me. Let go.” You seethe under your breath.

You don’t care that you gave him a nasty look, he deserved it. But he backed off as you wished.

“Bear?” Your dad rushes out, “I told you we had no front steps right now.”

Eyes still adjusting to the darkness, sleep is all you need.

“Right.” You chuckle, “I forgot, sorry.” Everyone laughs, filing back inside to the party.

Standing up, putting your weight on your good leg, you hobble over to grab your duffle bags.

Throwing them onto the porch and crawling to stand on top of the wood, people were watching you but you didn’t give a fuck, you’d do it on your own.

“Dad, I'm going to sleep.”

He stands there, looking into your pearled eyes.

“Okay, see you in the morning.” He hugs you.

Joel and Mary Anne are still there at the bottom of the stairs.

“Have a good night.” Letting your eyes crinkle in the smile.

“Feel better honey!” She calls after you as you stumble up.

Joel watches you walks pass them. You’d spit on his shoes if you could.

Peering to the top step, the food is still there, thank god.

Not embarrassed as you thought, but that happening in front of Joel was a smack from hell. Opening your door, turning on the light to your childhood room. Nothing has changed. The smell, the pictures and paint, your bed, all the same.

𓆉

Someone’s jumping on your bed. Eyes opening up, sun filling the room, James is shaking you awake.

“It’s noon! Wake up!” He says.

You groan, “James it’s saturday…”

“And it’s your real first day here and I want to spend it with you!”

“Okay… where’s dad?”

“He’s at the restaurant. He told me to ask you if you could close tonight so he can come get me from my scrimmage practice.”

“Jason wants me to work..” You pout, truly you were fine with it. It’s the family business and you had nothing better to do, but on a saturday night…

“Ok, how about we spend the day together and I’ll drive you to practice in dads other car, and I’ll go to the damned restaurant. Deal?” You confirm.

“Perfect.” He giggles.

“Do you want to go surfing?”

“Let's do that tomorrow. I have my game and then there's that team bonfire thing dad told you about, surf then?”

“It’s tomorrow? That’s perfect James. I cant wait to watch you play.”

He grins, “Dad left some cash for us to go eat, I want Ihop.”

“Ihop.” You mock. “You really want IHop?”

“Yes”.

“Fine.”

You get out of bed and James stays.

“How’s your leg?”

“Fine.” You mumble.

“I saw Mary Anne trying to bud in per usual.”

You respond immediately, “Is that awkward, her being your coach…”

“Thank god you think that, I swear she thinks she’s my new mom and then did you see her all over Joel! Sarah was disgusted.”

“Yeah I was too, yuck.” Putting a finger in your mouth. “Trust me I knew who she was when I saw her, dad told me all about the annoying lady that clings to all the single men in town.”

“She’s been all over Joel for so long it’s annoying, if she becomes Sarah’s step mom I’m making her move in with us, sorry.”

Sarah’s step mom. You shiver.

“Sarah… hmm James, do you like her?” You stare him down as you brush your hair.

“I’ll be honest I don’t know… there's days where I think she likes me back but then some days it feels like we’ll only be friends.” He explains.

“You won’t know until you ask, but at least you’re friends.” You offer. “Ask her to come to breakfast with us, it wouldn't hurt.”

“You're the best.” He shrieks and runs to grab his phone.

𓆉

After having breakfast with Sarah and your brother, which seemed completely normal between them both. Sarah wanted to go to James practice, you dropped them both off and before you had to go to the restaurant you went to the towns public beach.

You sat there watching people, headphones in. There were some hot, hot men.

You called Lexie, updated her about your first day and told her about Joel.

“That hot dad, why didn’t you kiss him?”

“I don’t know I was scared and I think he was too.” You look down at the sand.

“And he’s apparently with this old bitch, so show him up. Date around the town. Put yourself out there.” She edges on.

“I don’t know, maybe sometime soon, but I have to go to my dads restaurant to close, he said you can visit whenever. Joel has a hot brother…”

She laughs over the receiver, “Maybe after the fourth, and I’ll come spend a week. In August I start my new job at that aquatic life place I was telling you about.”

“That’s amazing Lex, let me know about after the fourth, we’ll have fun.”

“Okay, I love you, Ciao!”

You never thought about it in terms but you didn’t want to work at your dad’s restaurant forever, you didn’t want your degrees to go to waste.

You’d start job hunting soon, but you needed to give yourself some time. It was weird being in the same town you grew up in, reliving every childhood memory. A little girl who would wake up happy, but now everything makes you feel like a ghost.

You wish you could silence it all, but here you are asking for answers.

𓆉

As you pull into the parking lot, it's dark and your dads truck is gone. You forgot you’d have to meet a whole new staff and it was packed. Or you could wait in the back the whole night and just lock the doors to the building when everyone’s gone.

Applying mascara and black honey, you get out of your car and walk in. People at the bar, people inside, people outside eating at on the lookout to the beach. Bussers and servers moving quickly.

Walking up to the hostess stand, a boy that looks your age sits in a chair sideways, chewing gum with his mouth open and he has a 2012 Justin Bieber hair cut.

“Yo, sit yourself inside or out, server will get to you afterwards.” He says, still scrolling on his phone

“Ummm, I’m uhhh.” Trying to get his attention, “Jason’s daughter, he wanted me to close tonight.”

He sits up, falling out of his chair, then getting up again.

“Boss’s daughter.” He yelps, looking frightened and he scrambles to clean the counter.

The server nearby screams and chaos breaks loose.

“Uh no you guys don’t have to do that, I’m nothing, pretend I’m not even here.” You back into the corner and boot it behind the bar. People were looking at you and murmuring, and the bartender looks your way.

“Chet?” You ask.

“No fucking way, it’s really you, they said the boss’s daughter was coming in tonight and I wasn’t gonna believe it unless I saw it.”

You and Chet were friends when you were younger, you both liked to surf a lot when you were kids,but then you saw him less and less, nothing bad but time.

Time was all you had, but still lost.

“Sorry if we're more lax than other restaurants, your dad did choose to hire all 20 year olds.” He smirks.

You shrug, “It’s the beach life, what more do you expect?”

He made a few more drinks, you both talked through the night. You were happy he didn’t bring up your mom. You weren’t sure if he knew but it wasn’t worth bringing up.

Before he left a the end of his shift,

“Hang out this summer?” He looked into your eyes.

“I’d like that.”

Chet wasn’t too harsh on the eyes either. He was pretty, and always nice. You expected nothing less from him. His parents raised him right and you were so proud to know one of the good ones.

The whole staff left late, you got to talk to all of them, glad that your dad works with good people.

As everyone left, you were cleaning behind the bar and wiping cups, hearing the ding of the door cling alive.

“We close in ten minutes.” You yell above your head.

“I know.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and lo and behold Joel Miller.

“What are you doing here?” You stand up.

His hair looked electrocuted, his eyes bloodshot. His clothes were disheveled, but his fucking flannel still hugged his body. He still looks like the man you’ve known for so long.

“Wanted to see if you were okay…” He walks in.

“M’fine.” You swallow.

He takes a seat at the bar and you look into his eyes, he looks tired, and already drunk.

“You’re drunk.” You blink.

You wouldn’t let yourself be upset at this, but you were mad that you let yourself talk about your mom to Joel, and he was smothered in lipstick by another woman. It was the principle.

He tuts, “I am.”

“Then why are you here?” Throwing your hands to your side.

He gulps, “I don’t want to do this, I had a long day.”

“Mhmph okay, find we won’t do this.”

You clean more and he just stands there and watches you.

“If you want to stand and watch, maybe I can invite Mary Anne to join.” You look up.

“Don’t, don’t do that.” He puts his head in his hand.

“Then what the fuck do you want me to do…Joel. You’re here in my dad’s restaurant, go home.” You yell.

“I can’t… I can’t go home without speaking to you.”

“Then talk, it isn’t hard Joel.” You pause.

“You know this isn’t fair,” He starts, “I find out you’re coming to live with your dad and it’s like my whole life stops.” He mumbles.

“Do you want some more lipstick all over your face, or are you gonna cry about it?”

Calmly he walks behind the bar, not raising his voice.

“I messed up, I know that. But please…” He gets closer to you, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Joel you were this close to my face 24 hours ago comforting me about my dead mom and you,” You put your finger on his chest, “You and this old bitch were in, now my house kissing. And you try to be the hero by asking if I’m okay last night with your faced smeared from another woman,” You shake your head, “Get the fuck out.” You say sternly.

He stands there shaking his head, he doesn’t move.

“What Joel?” You look into his eyes defeated.

“You don’t get it sweetheart, you are my best friend's daughter. If I did something to you, if I touch you, if we are caught, if I kiss you, if I even think about you. I am corrupting you.”

You stay silent, but you listen to him. Hanging by a thread, you would listen to him forever.

“If your father found out about us, do you know what he would do to me? What he would do to make us not see each other?” He swallows.

“Ever since I have known you, I have kept myself away from you. Mary Anne is nothing, I mean it.”

You watch his eyes gloss and his arms cross, he’s being genuine.

“I allowed myself to come in here tonight because you needed to know that, but I promise I’ll never go near her or you again, and as long you’re here I won’t-

You had to, you had to quiet him, standing on your toes you close in on his mouth. Kissing him, letting yourself touch him.

You moan into his mouth, something to quiet him.

He lets go, “No, don’t do this because you feel bad sweetheart.”

“Joel you can’t tell me what to do.” You capture his lips again, your nose’s brushing. His musk electrifies the burn in your body. “My dad will not find out about this, I am a grown woman, I choose what I want for my life.”

He closes his eyes, breathes and opens, his voice drops “Small town beach girl all grown up now?”

Your eyes widen, “Please, I wasn’t always studying, Joel. Fucking forced me to be better student.”

He blinks, “Close the fucking restaurant and meet me in my truck.”

You stand there, grinning. He walks away and you finish the closing tasks. Before you open the door to walk outside, preparing yourself. This is Joel Miller. You’ve wanted him the day you first met him.

Locking the door, you turn around and his truck is not in the parking lot, but near the trees on the sand a couple hundred feet away. The moon was illuminating the water and you walked over.

You could see he was looking out the window, waiting for you. Restraining yourself from running to the passenger door, you make it, open the door and pull yourself in. No one could see you both in this spot, which was good.

“Hi.” You breathe, your heart was racing and when he looked over at you, the moonlight reflecting off his face and hair made you throb. Made you crave more in your life. He’s beautiful, you never needed anything more than him right now.

The feeling crashes over you too quickly, you move to sit in his lap and he kisses you. Matching your speed, all you can focus on is his mouth.

He grunts when you thread your fingers through his soft hair. You kiss his nose, mouth agape at how intoxicated this man has made you feel. It was new, you weren’t scared but you were so hyper aware of how he touched you. Lust consumed your brain.

You pop off from his lips, remembering that he was drunk, “Joel, you’re drunk.”

He licks his lips, “This,” He kisses you again, “Has sobered me up. I promise.”

His reassurance calmed your heart, but would he regret this?

He moved with you, you both moaned into each other, you both needed each other.

“Was she like this Joel? Was her pussy tight? Did she make you cum?” You question, shifting down to his neck and you suck until you can feel his breath stutter.

“Could her throat take your cock? Did she finish you off? Could she swallow your thick… oozing cum?” You lick a stripe on his neck, you can feel his stomach cave in. Reaching a hand down to his jeans, you palm him. His breath is shallow, music to your ears.

The windows are starting to fog up and you lean against his side window, staring at his dark honey eyes.

“How’d you fuck her Joel? Was she screaming your name all night?” You continue to rub the outline of his hard cock.

He stops you, with a shaky hand he grabs your jaw, in a low rough rasp, “You’re fucking filthy.” He slams his pouted lips to yours, letting him take you. He nips at your lip, touching under your tits. Beyond being sensitive, you take off your shirt inviting him for more.

“Bet she doesn't have tits like mine, does she?” You flaunt.

Your tits were bubbling out your bra, being a broke college student didn’t allot you to buy bras every time you grew a size.

Joel gave you confidence, his eyes were glued to what he saw, and it fucked with your brain, but you loved it.

“Sweetheart, fucking her was nothing. All she wanted was vanilla,” He licks the top of your boob, “She wanted nothing more than soft.”

“Joel Miller fucks rough?” You ask, raising a brow.

“When I fuck sweetheart, it’s hard… and long.” He extends his arms to your ass. “I like to take my time.”

You wince as his hand crawls up your back from your ass.

“She didn’t like that. She will never be you.” He carnally growls, “And I didn’t cum, she threw up on my dick.”

You bust out laughing, he follows. He must have a big fucking did then…

He felt so good against you. You could feel your swollen lips and your flushed cheeks. Sweat building on your hairline and neck.

You want to give him more, you want to feel more so you lean back against the steering wheel, going for the zipper to his jeans and he stops you, looking up.

“No, pretty girl hands off.” He huffs, “I want to make you feel good right now, that’s the least I owe you.” He draws out a kiss, “But that fucking mouth- gonna get you in trouble. Fucking brat. Mary Anne is gone, blocked. If I see her again, nothing. I promise.”

You shiver, “I’ve never been with a man…” He pushes your hair behind your ear, “That focuses just on me.”

“Then I’ll teach you, sweet girl.” He rubs circles on your cheeks.

“Those college boys don’t know how to fuck.” He hums, his hands crawl across your back, unhooking your bra and it falls off, he’s definitely not a college boy. He’s a man.

He adjusts again when he sees your tits, grunting. Immediately he lunges forward to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and a high-pitched whimper falls from your mouth. Your head rests above his, and you push him to your body.

His mouth takes your nipple, his tongue caressing each part, and your head swells. No man has ever focused on your boobs.

“So fucking perfect sweetheart. So soft.” He was sucking enough you knew you’d wake up with hickeys everywhere, but you knew that’s how it would feel real.

He pushes you a little further back, “Put your hands on the dashboard.”

You put your hands behind your back, giving space as your body lifts.

His golden hands circle your nipples, so sensitive you hiss. His hands reach your zipper now, and he stops.

“Are you okay with me touchin you?” He asks, with a hushed breath.

This was it, you weren’t in college anymore. You weren’t being fingered in your dorm room any more, you weren’t uncomfortable, you were with Joel. He asked you, he isn’t forcing you.

Nodding your head, “Yes.”

With your approval his eyes travel down, his fingers insistent on your zipper. He shimmies your jean shorts down your legs. Your left bare in your black underwear. Nothing special but, black underwear was the only thing you would buy.

“If you want to stop, we stop. Okay?” He gets your attention, you’re hazed by the fog. Breathing was starting to get hard and you couldn't believe Joel was about to finger you. Nobody but him.

You kiss him again, “Make me cum Joel, please.”

His left hand pulls your underwear to the side, revealing the mess you’ve created. You’ve been drenched since the bar.

You draw in a moan, the air and his breath on you made the hair on your back raise. You were scared he didn’t like what he saw, but now wasn’t the time to worry. You couldn’t give a fuck.

He fiddles his fingers between your pussy lips, drenching his hand with your liquid.

“Fuck, been drenched for me all night, huh? Been wanting this?” His southern accent was going to make you scream.

“I’ve wanted you forever Joel, please…” You beg.

He slowly brings his fingers to his face, putting them in his mouth.

He closes his eyes and groans.

“Like honey, you’re fuckin perfect sweetheart. M’fucking lucky.” He puts his fingers back on your pussy, up to your clit. Your jaw drops.

“That’s the spot. Mhhhm.” He rubs your nub furiously, holding on tight.

“Last night you looked so pretty, always so fucking pretty.” He says, “Those hazy eyes,” You smile, “You’re body,” He brings you closer, hand to cupping you, “This pussy.”

Beat. He takes a breath. Air thick.

“You are perfect, and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. Now I know.”

Even if he didn’t mean it, even if he had said this to another woman, you didn’t care. His words drew out something filthy, something the rest of the world would ever understand about you.

With his right hand hand he holds your stomach down, he was touching the part you most nervous about. But he didn’t care about what you looked like, he didn’t care about or know what you thought of yourself. He kept touching you.

“I could survive on your pussy for the rest of my life. I mean that.” He murmurs.

Taken by shock, still holding you down. He maneuvers his fingers with your panties, sliding two fingers in. This was it.

You gasp, not realizing alone how thick two of his fingers were. “Oh my fucking- god… Joel.”

He doesn't stop. He keeps going, not letting up and you couldn’t tell the difference between anything anymore. It was just him.

“Feel good, pretty girl? So fucking tight.” He snarls. His thumb pushes the skin about your clit, rubbing it as he fingers you.

“Joel, faster. I don’t fucking care.” You scream.

He does as he’s told, curving them inside. You yelp, no man has ever gotten this point, never able to finger fucking you this good.

His other hand holding you down made it better. Strong enough to keep you down from a shaking. You could feel it brewing. A storm riling inside your cunt.

You swallow, he knows what hes doing and you are utterly fucked.

“Gonna cum over fingers, c’mon baby, I know you can do it, such a good girl.”

“Joel-”

“I know. Let go for me.”

Instantly the waves from the beach fills your ears and a piercing shriek splits through the car. You get so tight your walls push him out and you slump on top of Joel, catching your breath.

You couldn’t process, this was the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, it felt like you were being sloppy to your morals. But you couldn’t resist Joel.

In his car, both risking this for each other. He came for you.

Since you met him, earlier in your college years, it felt like this was supposed to happen. And now it is.

You could feel him kisisng you chest, not letting go.

He opens the center concil, grabbing a kleenex and swiping your center clean of your slick. Rubbing the dull pain he just fucked out of you.

Amazed to watch him clean you up.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You shrug.

Just Joel Miller, cleaning your vagina up, after he gave you a lip biting orgasm.

“Bet those boys never cleaned you up, a shame.” He says.

He helps lift you to the passenger seat and he just stares at you.

“You’re beautiful, and I’ll say it a thousand times over.” Heart leaping, you couldn’t say anything. You gulp.

“When you get home you need to pee.” He pants.

“Trust me, I know.” You laugh, every window in the car was fogged up, and you drew his name on your side. Both watching a droplet fall.

“Gotta get you home or your dad will probably fucking panic.” He says.

You nod in agreement, as he pulls out, leaving the beach. He rolls down the windows to circulate the air. Your hair blows through the wind and you've never felt more alive, more safe.

You watch him as he drives, how calm he is with everything. His smile, the lines on his face, his nose. Beautiful. You could write about him. You wrote about everything, observed and took in every little piece of information, and you would do this for Joel.

Time has done him well.

“I know tonight was… short lived. There's so much more I want to say and do, but I promise-”

You rush a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, you don’t have to promise me anything. I know.” You grin.

As much as you wanted to do more tonight with him, you’re glad this was what was given to you. You’re glad he came to bar.

He drives up to his house. From next door you could see the lights are off but James and your dad are home. Unbuckling, you grab your phone and open the door.

He turns off the engine, and before you get out of the car he grabs your shirt, and kisses you hard.

“See you at the game and campfire tomorrow?”

You nod your head.

Softly you hum to yourself as you get out, walking briskly to the front of your porch and crawling on top to unlock the door. You look over to him before you go inside and he’s laughs at you.

What has Joel Miller done to you?

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six-white-venus · 3 months

Text

hey stranger, would you listen to my sorrows for a little while? would you indulge this poor son of a gun sobbing on the side of the road about the same ol’ things, the same ol’ sitch would you listen to me, just this once?

can i tell you how it feels to sell a home? for money, of all things? well, firstly you close your eyes, count to 10, hoping to wake up to your god-awful britney spears’ alarm but spoiler alert: you don’t. you never do. you open your eyes to see the very same tragedy unfold only now in monochrome

it feels like this: you see the garden you waddled in through when you were 8 and there’s a pause, an ache in your chest. the voice in your head says rewind and who are you to deny its wish?

grandpa is walking around watering the plants, admiring the palm-sized sunsets and lovely nights that bloom under his watch. i’ve known god for quite a while, my friend and let me tell you how he looks- he is 70, 76, 80 and 82 i’ve held god in my own arms and he has held me in his he smells like baby powder and brushes his lips against my hair oh so gently. i’ve seen god, looking over with such fondness at a line of ants I am safe. I am safe. I am safe

it feels like walking inside the living room and being robbed of all your breath by some lousy scoundrel because this can’t be happening, right? (but it is. it is happening) this is not fair (is it ever?)

this is where my uncle ran and ran to reach me, eyes wild and petrified, when i once forgot how to breathe underwater (i was taking a head bath then. i’m not taking one now but mama, i think i need you here. i think i forgot how not to drown again)

oh, you’re still here? listening to silly old me and my silly old wounds wrapped in pretty words and poetry to hide the scabs and rot from your prying eyes? funny, because everyone and everything always seems to have somewhere to run off to. i remember it all, as i stand there

i am twelve and nothing feels real when i see my grandpa’s sharp eyes submerged in fog god used to sit next to me and read out english channel names and laugh quietly. he used to correct me on the pronunciation of the word ‘thalai-anai’ and make sure grandma never skipped a meal. i’m twelve and he looks at me and doesn’t see me he looks at me and tries to remember my name

reality fades into white noise.

pockets empty and wallets filled with holes larger than the ones in my heart, i watch them pack up all our things i see cardboard boxes standing tall in the kitchen and the dining table is masked with a dusty white cloth and it is wrong, so wrong and I try not to look like my world is spinning a little too fast for my liking.

will there ever be someone else who will utter the words ‘goodbye’ and ‘i love you’ to these walls like i have?

(i wonder: what is the price tag this world will slap on love?)

this house, it has seen me stitch my wounds with trembling hands and wipe my tears of happiness with my shirt sleeve. these gardens still wait for my grandpa and say hello to him through the whispering wind this house is not just a house it is home, it is love.

but my dear stranger, there’s also else something i forgot to tell you: just like how we claimed every inch of this place to be ours, this place has left its traces all over me i may have to say goodbye to this house now, but it will always live within me so with all my awkward grief and salt-stained smiles and open arms i say,

goodbye and welcome home, old friend

#my writing #prose poetry #poetry #love #words #writeblr #letting go #home

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deliriumandmelancholia · 2 months

Text

March 11th, 2024

I went to the store and bought eggs and tiny tomatoes. I came home and I made scrambled eggs for the first time in my life. I had them for breakfast a few days ago and I realised, it’s alright. They don’t cause me migraines anymore. I seasoned mine with sea salt and white pepper, rosemary and a smile through the tears. It’s not always so bad. There are good moments inside the pain, and there is always the possibility of kindness and patience for myself, even when other people might not understand. Even when they disagree. I am enough just by being me. I don’t need to be perfect, I just need to be kind. Sometimes I mess up; I hate it but it’s not an Unforgivable Thing. It’s human, it’s messy, and it’s raw. I’m on my knees. I’m leaning with my full weight against the kitchen counter as I try to breathe through the pain and fear. I’m allowed to exist as this, too. I’m allowed to feel things so strongly that they almost destroy me. I’m allowed to be weak and not know when I can be strong again. I’m snacking on my tomatoes as I type this. I am terrified of the present and I’m terrified of the future. I never want to go back so I press onwards. I know that one day will be the last goodbye. I want that to have a hopeful sound but all I can hear is the ring of death. I’m petrified. I don’t want to die, I want to live. I want to live so much that it hurts and I’m curling my fingers and clawing at the surface like a beast unable to control itself any more. I howl like a banshee and hunch my shoulders as I try to breathe through the sobs. I’m more than this. I’m just this, right now. Patience. Patience is running out and I fear that when it does, what will be left of me is just a shadow, an empty case, an animated corpse the way I used to be. I haven’t really grown, I’m just older and more sensitive. My emotions are like a patch of skin with the top layers rubbed off and life keeps rubbing against it over and over, the skin unable to heal itself as it keeps being ripped anew. I have stopped physically self-harming but my emotions cannot stop. I am drowning under the weight of my own heart and someday, there will be no one left

with the patience

to pull me out.

#delirium and melancholia #mental illness #borderline personality disorder #living with bpd #stream of consciousness

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sunshine-likes-drstone · 2 years

Text

What We Build Together

AO3 link • FF.net link

This is based on ch 232.1. I changed some of the order of events, but hopefully nothing out of the realm of reason.

Senku was glad he wasn’t alone.

Would it have been safer, easier, to just drag petrified Kohaku along? Of course. He’d gotten better at things requiring strength, and he wasn’t too bad at fishing and diving now, either.

(It felt like just last week he was saving Kohaku from being trapped under a tree. But no, it had been years and years. They’d been friends for almost half their lives.)

He’d have survived just fine on his own while gathering the statues of his friends and making more revival fluid. But as she’d said, he’d wanted her there. A partner.

He asked her to grab some seaweed, then went about making rope and tying two palm trees together while Kohaku caught them something to eat. Less risk of rotation and suddenly being dumped into the ocean when they didn’t want to be if they had at least two trunks to work with. Those tied off, he considered his next step.

For shelter…palm leaves would work. He pulled the leaves at the top of the trees over and up to make a shelter from the sun, then gathered more to weave a mat for sitting or sleeping on, then still more to dry out to burn. Next up was desalination, and maybe a place for fire.

Kohaku popped to the surface. “Senku!” she sang. “I’ve got dinner!” And proceeded to hoist the biggest fish Senku had ever seen in his life onto the raft.

“What the hell?” he said, laughing incredulously. “Where’d you find this monster?”

She pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the logs, leaning back on her hands. “Oh, just swimming around.”

“Well, I think we’re set for food, lioness,” he teased, dragging the fish to be a bit more securely placed. “Probably for the next month or so.”

She laughed. “More like a day! I’m already starving!”

Not surprising—she probably had a super high metabolism in general, and swimming so much would only burn up more calories. “Want to help me make a fire pit, then?”

She flexed one arm. “Ready! What do you need?”

He told her and off she went. Meanwhile, he put together his first attempt at a simple solar desalination plant.

As the sun started to set, they had the basics—food, water, and shelter. They shared a meal of salt-seasoned roasted fish, then sat and looked at the stars for a while.

“One more time,” Kohaku said after a while. “I think I’m starting to get it. Stars are fire. I get that. Big balls of fire, floating in space, way far away. So far away that it would take thousands and thousands of years to get to one. And light…takes time to travel?”

“Yup.”

“Hm.”

He knew she was skeptical. “I could show you some cool experiments that show it when we get back to civilization. I bet Xeno has the equipment set up.”

“Sure, I’d like that. So because light apparently takes time to travel—”

“It does!”

“—the stars we’re seeing could be all burnt out right now. We just can’t see it yet.”

“Yup.”

She tilted her head and hummed. “It kind of hurts my head to think about, the universe being that big, the stars being that far away.”

“Humans aren’t really built for that big of big numbers. You remember the hundred and fifty limit Gen talked about? We’re wired for numbers for communities like that.”

“Except you,” she said, nudging his shoulder with her own. “Dr Stone, genius scientist of the New World or whatever they’re calling you.”

He huffed. “No, I’m the same as everyone else.”

“Ha!”

“I mean it!” He suddenly found it hard to find the right words. This wasn’t something he talked about, ever. But…well, he and Kohaku were as alone as it got right now, and there was no one else he’d rather talk about this with. “I…I learned this stuff, you know? I wasn’t born with a better understanding of everything. I’m not a genius. I had to work for…all of it. I had to practice mental math. I had to practice remembering things and reading fast and all that other stuff.” He kicked one of his feet back and forth in the water of the ocean with a sigh. “Maybe I’m good at counting, maybe I have a decent memory, but I worked for and practiced everything else, and it feels kind of lame when they call me a ‘genius,’ or treat me like I’m not even human or something. Like I didn’t have to try and fail and try again until I got it right.”

“I know,” Kohaku said softly. “I’ve seen it. You’re the most hardworking person I know, though, and I think that’s still pretty special.”

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Coming from someone who ran kilometers carrying giant jugs of water every day for years?”

She shoved him lightly. “Shut up! That was ages ago!”

“Coming from someone who sat down and wouldn’t move until they learned all the kana so I would ‘stop bugging you’ about it?”

“Senku!”

He laughed. “Coming from the strongest person I know? That’s something.”

She grinned at him, leaning towards him. “I’m the strongest person you know? Really? Did I hear that right? Not Tsukasa or Taiju?”

He felt his ears start to burn at her scrutiny. “I said it once, I won’t say it again.”

She giggled, scooting close enough that he could feel the heat of her skin. They sat in pleasant silence for a moment before she said, “I get it. The genius thing. People have said all my life that my strength is ‘sorcery’ or ‘unnatural’ or something. Even now.”

He frowned. “What, seriously? Still? The rescue crews you work with say that?” He hadn’t known that—he had thought things were going well.

“Yup,” she said with a sigh. “Like you said, though, I worked for it. Maybe I have a body built for strength or speed, but if I didn’t try to improve, it wouldn’t mean anything. I’d be as weak as anyone else. It’s like…potential. I made use of my potential, but it was still work.”

He considered what she said, staring at the water. He hadn’t known she felt that way. Neither of them was the type to complain all the time, after all. But his earlier statement didn’t quite sit right anymore, didn’t quite cover all he wanted to say. “Then how about this: you are the most hardworking, loyal, steadfast person I know.” He glanced at her, lit by the light of the moon and stars. “I’m honored to be part of your life.”

Her eyes shone with light reflected off the water as she glanced back at him, a contented smile dancing across her face. “And I’m honored to be part of yours.” She then did something he’d never seen her do —she bit her lip and turned away, reaching up with one hand to play with her hair. Had she ever been timid before? “No matter what happens,” she said in a low, earnest voice, “whether it’s crashing in a plane or landing on the moon, good times or bad, saving the world or just sitting here, I want to be by your side. For…for the rest of our lives, if I could do that, I’d be the happiest woman alive.”

Senku realized, as his heart pounded a little faster, he had no idea how dating and marriage proposals normally worked in Ishigami Village. Chrome had just blurted out “let’s get married” to Ruri (and after all that planning and rehearsing he made Senku sit through) and they hadn’t even been dating, but that was Ruri and Chrome—they’d kind of decided to get married when they were kids and hadn’t formalized it until recently. He didn’t imagine Kohaku to be the type to ask unpetrified people about marriage or weddings just for fun, either, so she probably didn’t realize how similar her words sounded to marriage vows in some cultures.

And he’d been wondering, recently, if this was where their relationship was going. Not with disgust or even trepidation, as he might have when he was younger. Even now, the thought of loving and marrying some unknowable future “someone” did not appeal to him on any level.

The thought of loving and marrying Kohaku did appeal to him. A lot. “A life where I can always stand beside you is maybe the most exciting thing I can think of,” he said, meaning every word of it. Even the boring stuff—the domestic things and everyday nonsense—would be better if he knew Kohaku would always be with him.

Their world was quiet, limited to their breathing and the gentle splash of water. He could feel her breath on his skin as she looked up at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “Senku…” she breathed out, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, watching for any hint or sign that she wanted him to stop.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her face up to meet his.

He’d never kissed anyone before. (He’d never wanted to.) He wondered if she had. One of them should probably have an idea what they were doing, right? Maybe they’d just have to figure this out together.

And then his lips were brushing hers, warm and soft, and he wasn’t thinking about much of anything besides how nice this felt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and increased the pressure of the kiss, tilting her head a bit.

Tentatively, he moved his arm around her waist, setting his hand against her back. She moaned—a soft, humming moan then sent fire zipping through his blood—and he trembled at how overwhelming this was. He never wanted to stop. Could a person live on nothing but kisses?

It’s just hormones, said his stupid brain. A natural biological response.

He ignored it and focused instead on the feeling of her fingers running through his hair.

But both of them were really tired after a whole day of hard work in an unfamiliar, unsafe environment, so their kisses naturally lowered in intensity until only their foreheads were pressed together, both of them breathing a little heavier.

Originally, Senku had planned for them to sleep in shifts. Their little “hut” didn’t have much room, after all, and it was probably smart to have at least one person awake in such an uncertain situation.

But Kohaku was tugging him over to the palm leaf bed and pulling him to lay down beside her, and he couldn’t find it in him to protest. They were lying facing each other, Kohaku’s eyes still shining in the dark. “Good night,” she whispered, her hands curled up by her face.

He reached up to cover her hands with his, pulling them to rest exactly between them. Tomorrow would be difficult—it always was—but as long as they faced the day together, Senku knew they’d be okay.

@senhaku-week

#senhaku #senkoha #senhaku week #senkhaku week 2022 #dr stone manga spoilers

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dishtothedeath · 8 months

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The joy is mine, the pain is mine // Fergus // MM.2 // Reaction

Fergus remembers them standing on the beach.

”I’ve had to fight to get anything in this life, even if what I have is all shit, save for my daughter! And now she’s all alone out there, and I have to fuckin’ — fuckin’ live with the fact that I’ll likely never see her again! And I’m supposed to just, just, just stop and square my shoulders and take it like I’ve taken everythin’ in my miserable fuckin’ life this far!”

“You… have been through a lot… I won’t say you have to but there are benefits and… no one can be alone forever. And… And I will do everything in my power to make sure you never feel that way about someone. At least while we’re here. I promise you’re safe…”

Fergus goes very quiet, breathing like he’s ran a marathon to get here, a messenger from a far-off war, shoulders tense and slightly trembling. He looms over the idol, hands still balled to fists.

”Do…” He hesitates. ”I… just —”

”…”

”Do ye promise?” For a big guy who casts such a tall shadow, he sounds very small all of a sudden. ”If ye promise… I will also. I promise I… I will do anything, anything ye ask of me. I won’t ask why, and I won’t say no.”

“I promise.”

And so it had begun.

[♫♫♫]

(CW: Flashing Images)

———————-

He remembers them standing on the beach again. It’s much later, months, what feels like years after their promise. He holds Araceli’s hand and he cries when he slides the ring around her finger. They say their vows. They kiss. They’re now married.

He’s never been this happy.

That has to be fucked up, right? That out of all the places in the world, he has never been as happy as he is now, on this god-forsaken island, holding onto his wife. Knowing that even if they die, they will still belong together, that they will have thrown a huge middle finger to the ones running the game;

they chose love over violence.

———————

He remembers waking up on the beach. Waves crash against him and wake him up to a world of pain, and he sits up screaming. There’s an excruciating agony radiating from his left side that feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and as he tries to move his other arm, it’s with rising panic that he realizes he can’t.

Everything is pain and blood and panic, but in being driven to a corner, it’s the animal-like rage and need to lash out that overpowers him and forces him to stand up and push through.

That, and the decision that he will kill the ones responsible for all of this.

A culmination, a crowning event of his rage.

———————

As Yukari plunges them all into darkness, he doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t acknowledge her. It’s easier to avert his eyes from his wife, blindingly beautiful and horrifying all at once, much like an angel. He understands now why in the Bible they tell mortals to “fear not”, and why humans get turned into salt pillars for gazing upon them.

He certainly feels petrified.

Maybe it’s better this way. Since if he does look at her, sees in her eyes the apologetic look he fears will be there, the admission of inevitable guilt, or worse, the lack thereof…

He fears what he might do to her.

It’s so easy to threaten people when you think they can’t be someone close to you. When you trust the ones closest to you implicitly, and even when they’ve broken that trust, you’ve taken their word that they won’t do it ever again. He’s done so again and again and again, with everyone in his life; his mother, his father, his lover, his wife.

Maybe by now he should have gotten used to betrayal.

But even if others can never be held up to their words, it seems, Fergus knows that he’s not one to go back on his.

And that frightens him more than this game ever could have.

Since in his heart, he dreams of killing the people responsible for this. And with Yukari being responsible, that means he has dreamed of killing her. Dreamed of killing his wife. And he’s not sure if his love can be stronger than his hatred, anymore.

He feels the scales tipping.

“… Don’t. “

“Don’t ye dare apologize, Yukari.” “Just… don’t.”

He wouldn’t be able to handle that. The pity. The absolute humiliation.

He can take her being a villain, but if she was willing to lie to him for so long, then she may as well continue with the honeyd words and deception. He doesn’t want to hear even one more lie from her cruel, soft lips.

#submission #mm #reaction #fergus

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humansun · 2 years

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DRIVEZ N VIBEZ

Written July 8th, 2022 at 10:26PM

Hey, hey!

I need to update you all really quick.

I made it to Lina’s house, and I am so excited to be here. Took the most deluxe shower ever.

On the drive here, I made some cool realizations and I want to share them like I used to when my mind was at its optimal health not too long ago!

The first is that after the pandemic started, I fell into this reminiscent mood about how I want to be the person I used to be in my college days and even a bit of high school.

Energetic, outgoing, unapologetic, colorful, and herself. I wished so much to be this person again.

But today, I learned on the drive that I am her, but 2.0. I carry with me all of those beautiful, transformative experiences of me being a ray of light to many and even myself. I still carry all of those traits to me to this day.

Except that I have deeper experiences and the way I think may reach different levels than it did at the time I was all of those wonderful, festive things.

It’s reassuring and comforting to know these things because I can now be satisfied and confident about the Betty that is here now at 24 in July of 2022.

I get to appreciate the me that exists in this exact moment, in this exact present time period, for all I am, for all that I am not, and all that I will be.

I thought about a ton of other things, but this was prominent and notable that I had to take the time out of my cousin trip to write it all down (I feel partially guilty about this).

There are few more things I’d like to note to myself and others:

Reach out the person you want to reach out to. An old friend, someone you admire, someone you want to tell something to or have been wanting to tell something to for the longest whether it’s an apology or a compliment! Because this action in itself to me, is fearless, and to live without fear for all the things you want to do like rekindle a relationship, is losing one regret each time.

Embrace your joy that you feel right now, even if its not perfect and even if it may feel temporary. Today was such a beautiful day for me. So many highs, so many great news, and so many new opportunities I see on the horizon. I haven’t felt this way in very long, but I think its important to reassure yourself that moments like these will come just as much as the bad times will.

Lastly! Keep going. You have so many experiences to go on, you have a whole world to travel, a billion other people to meet, opportunities you’ll never imagine ahead of you, and never ever listen to those who doubt you because they are scared or petrified of what lays ahead for you. Obviously all of this is with a grain of salt, but I’m genuinely excited to be me and I am excited for the life I will continue to live!

Canada in less than a week, a blooming relationship with someone who challenges me, and amazing family and friends who continue to bless me with love every single day. I am the true definition of blessed.

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silkylious · 3 years

Text

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.” (Lucifer x Reader)

fandom: obey me! shall we date?

pairing: lucifer x gn reader

warnings: angst, fluff (mildly lol), suggestive (nothing explicit though!), bittersweet, ambiguous ending (??), unedited

wc: 2.1k

“Lucifer?” you called out to him on a whim, eyes trailing the seconds ticking away on his grandfather-clock.

“Yes?” he didn’t spare you a glance as he worked methodically through his second hill of paperwork; a heaping stack of duties assigned to him by Diavolo, endless bills–a consequence of Mammon’s latest spending spree, you ought to talk to him about those soon–and the sort piled neatly on his pristine desk, slowly but surely decreasing in size as Lucifer burned through the tedious task with unwavering efficiency. You felt exhausted just watching him work. Lucifer? He hadn’t so much as blinked more than three times in the past five minutes (yes, you counted). Obsidian sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, hair perfectly framing his face with one strand slightly out of place–hot–and a gentle crease between his brows (the only observable hint alluding to the mounting stress on his shoulders). He looked positively delectable, nothing like someone who’s been working diligently for hours without any breaks. But that just served as a testament to the fundamental difference between the two of you, you supposed.

“I’m in love with you,”

That made his meticulous fingers pause in their tracks.

“Pardon?”

As it turned out, his ears hadn’t, in fact, deceived him. You repeated the confession as if it weighed nothing on your tongue. You were strangely calm given the words you’d just blurted out; he almost didn’t recognize you. An unfamiliar shade of desperation painted all over your face, and yet your voice bared to him a serene conviction, one he’d never heard from you before. Lucifer’s heartbeat stumbled in your wake.

Basking in your courageous display just a second longer, he sighed. Too bad he’d have to mutilate such a pretty sight so soon.

That didn’t go exactly as he’d planned. The harsh rejection barely deterred you, leaving only a petulant pout on your lips and a promise that you’d come talk to him later.

Lucifer was anything but stupid. He knew that he let things stray too far between you, knew it was his fault for not pulling away from your kisses and instead indulging you (and himself) to the fullest. His fault for ignoring the guilt that settled deep in his gut like hunks of steel when you looked at him like he’d never experienced before. Lucifer had lived for many millennia, had relished the warmth of countless passionate lovers and faceless hookups, none of which had ever set him alight from the inside out like your adoring gaze had. It terrified him how after all these years, watching humans thrive and collapse over and over again, he thought he’d seen everything there is to see, all that humans had to offer. And then you come along, reinventing what love meant right before his eyes, with a simple look no less.

He never intended for you to fall in love with him, and he never intended to reciprocate. Had he been mortal, maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated. But life dealt a cruel hand, and he wasn’t. A relationship like yours was doomed to crumble in heartache from the start, it was best to stop it before things went too far. That was the plan anyway.

You didn’t share the same sentiment.

With one last exasperated sigh, Lucifer focused his attention back on his duties. He didn’t know how long he could hold up against your persistence, and honestly he preferred not to dwell on it. Whatever outcome lied for the both of you in the near future, itching one step closer with each tick on the clock, he’d face it head on when it was time.

Meanwhile, you laid wide awake, in your bed, rethinking every decision that led you here. You didn’t regret your confession, nor were you keen on giving up, but Lucifer’s ruthless rejection, his vehement claim that a relationship between a human and a demon is destined to end in tragedy festered a bud of doubt in you. You noted pettily that he hadn’t outright denied any feelings for you. How could he? Lucifer was many, ugly things but a liar’s not one of them; you wouldn’t believe him even if he did lie, not with how delicately he holds your hand in his gloved one, not with how heartbreakingly beautiful he was when he lets you in at his lowest, stripped completely of his pride.

You knew though, that as much as Lucifer was a creature of the past, he was a creature of regrets.

Somehow, you’d managed to reach the heart of the Avatar of Pride himself, bestowing a porcelain touch on it and subsequently rocking the monotony of his endless life. Despite the acknowledgment of both your feelings, you weren’t naïve enough to dismiss how his heart drums thousands of years apart from yours and would continue to do so long after yours gave its last valiant pump.

He was a creature of the past you realized; humans intently watch minutes, hours, years approach because there’s only so much of them live out, there’s only so much to do in a lifetime. Naturally it would be counterintuitive to waste scarce time on the past. The immortal have no such concern. When time is limitless, and life is all but a blur of recycled events, its only instinctive to lose interest in what’s to come. And you guessed, maybe there was a strange comfort in the predictability of eternity, maybe that’s why Lucifer was so offput by the notion of something serious yet temporary, especially romance.

You decided. You wouldn’t let him look back and ponder what ifs in that stubborn head of his, not while you were still breathing. With regained determination, you glanced one last time at your countertop alarm and entered a dreamless slumber.

Not even two days later, three consecutive raps on his door made Lucifer rub at his temples for the nth time and begrudgingly called for you to enter. Piled on his desk were several stacks of papers (as was the usual), though, that night he was in a particularly sour mood. Ever since your confession, he’d been feeling uneasy, Diavolo hurling more work at him last minute was only pushing him to his wit’s end.

“Lucifer,” he hummed in response, not bothering to conceal his growing agitation. “we need to talk,”

Ah, there it was. He was wondering when you’d confront him again.

“I believe I made myself quite clear last time,” he sighed, dropping his pen and finally meeting your eyes. “If this is about your feelings again then I’m sorry but I can’t–”

“But why? Can you really say that what we have isn’t special at all?” your lower lip quivered just a bit and Lucifer had to fight the immediate reflex of holding you close and hushing your worries. His impassiveness quickly arose frustration out of you. “God Damnit, Lucifer! All I want is to be with you while I still can! To die with no regrets, knowing you’ll be there with me, but it’s very fucking hard to do that when you’re too scared of the future to do something about–about us!”

It was a low blow to go after his pride, you knew that, but he wasn’t giving you much to work with.. Rubbing salt in a ghastly wound had certainly done the trick, the dimmed crimson that pooled just below his pupil began to shine scarlet. You would have found it gorgeous had it not been imbued with near murderous intent. Lucifer’s poker face was rapidly breaking, a horrid mix of anger and melancholy sat heavy in his throat. He was looking straight at you, but his eyes were somewhere else, some time else. He was staring hundreds of years behind you at an unhealed, poorly bandaged cut. An everlasting guilt he carried with him everywhere.

“What would you know about regret?” he breathed out the words like they’re bullets, whatever restraint he’d managed to scarp together deteriorating. He stepped closer, each stride bigger than the last as he closed the distance between you, a perfect diamond manifesting on his forehead and you could see the beginnings of black feathers sprouting from his back. “Do you have the slightest clue what a blessing mortality is? Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to live with your regrets and not be able to die with them?”

“You’re right. I don’t,” you stood your ground. “But, do you really want to live with one more regret to bear?”

He kissed you. He kissed you like he hated you, animosity and anger and pain and, most prominently, pining spilling from his lips. Lucifer parted from you just as quickly as he’d initiated the kiss, taking the time to let his irritation bleed out of him, until he was left grappling with (frankly terrifying) longing and adoration. Just this once, he’d take a leap of faith, he’d break his own rigorous code and take the risk of undying heartache in the future to be with you in the now.

One kiss turned into many, and soon you found yourselves stumbling your way from his office to his bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of you, the thought that some day he would be deprived of you broke him and made him yearn to cherish you just as much. Precious things aren’t meant for longevity, he learned. All the more reason to treasure them when given the chance. You were pushed onto his bed and not once did his hands and mouth and breath leave your skin; he couldn’t bear sever that connection.

Before long, your hands were pined to the mattress, fingers tightly laced with his as if he was petrified the moment will break and a thousand years would pass you by the instant he let go.

“I love you. Truly and deeply.”

Neither of you heard the clock strike midnight.

Lucifer was well-acquainted with sleepless nights. He was no stranger to the prick at the corner of his eye, excruciatingly familiar with midnight’s cold, lonely touch. But this one was different. Where usually lied a cool emptiness in his sheets, your warm, inviting body was just in reach. Where the corners of his mind were usually plagued by past mistakes and sorrowful repentance, you were all he could think about. He reflected on your words now that the high of emotions had worn off. He still disagreed with you on many things and, if he was being true to himself, it would take more than one night to abandon his reluctance, much more. But he was willing to put in his fair share of effort. He was willing to do many things for you, he mused. You were right about one thing though, regardless of whether or not he acted on his feelings, your parting would hurt all the same. Part of him was still resentful that he let himself fall so deeply in love with you, and a part of him knew it couldn’t be helped. You’d carved a home for yourself out of his heart, invited yourself in and declared pompously you’d be there to stay, and he’d be damned to hell all over again if he said he didn’t like that.

Pulling you closer to leech off your warmth, for the first time in forever, he dreamt of the future, a future with you.

Snapping out his reverie, Lucifer refocused his vision on the framed picture before him. It’s been a couple dozen years, the pain dulled into a hollow longing, and yet not a single regret weighed on his back. He was astonished, how you, who had lived but a fraction of his own lifetime, had such impeccable foresight. He lays in bed every night and morning thanking you for not giving up, knowing that if you had, he’d be spending the rest of his infinite days in self-loathing regret.

All Lucifer could ask for now is a little guidance. What was he to do now? Was he even capable of falling in love again after you? Would he allow it? All questions that began frequenting his head since you’re no longer there to occupy it. He only knew is that he’d love you, and love you, and love you until this world fell apart. He toyed with the idea of reincarnation. It certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility; he saw you in everything he did. Strange how you’d taught him more about appreciating every day’s mundanities than he had in the many eons he’s been alive. Lucifer wonders about the possibility of you donning the same white wings he once had back in the Celestial Realm. If you ever did, he wonders about the complications that would arise from that, he wonders if you’d even remember him. All Lucifer was left with was a simple truth. If you ever came back, whichever form you may take, he’d welcome you back into the adobe of his heart without a second thought.

He ran his thumb over your smile, a bittersweet acceptance in his own.

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.”

Obey me! taglist: @katsucookie @strwbry-m1lk (you wanted to be tagged in this one lol) join my taglist here! <3

#obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x y/n #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer angst

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the-amaranthine · 2 years

Text

memories

Summary: in which she enlists the help of Satoru Gojo and asks him to take her virginity, and parade he did so, by fake dating her, all to steer off her marriage prospects.

genre: fluff, eventual angst, smut(in future chapters)

pairing: satoru gojo x female reader (?)

tw/cw: sexual themes, misogyny, swearing, violence, (more warnings in the future chapters to avoid spoilers)

this first takes place before the zero arc, and progresses alongside the main story.

notes: I DO NOT OWN JUJUTSU KAISEN, all rights belong to Gege Akutami. This is only a work of fiction. I researched most of the lore regarding the Jujutsu world, but if I got something wrong please feel free to send me an ask and/or message me!

Full Summary:

Y/n Inumaki assumed she’s had a perfect upbringing all her life. Loving parents, and loving caretakers. She held the title as the only daughter of the Inumaki clan and is sought out by many to be their wife. When she started seeing visions of what was her life, memories of what she actually went through, she starts questioning everything that her life consisted of. She starts seeing what her prospective husband, Naoya Zenin, is for who he is. So, naturally, she receives help from the strongest sorcerer, Satoru Gojo so she does not become a mindless wife to the Zenin clan. The question is, is Naoya Zenin the only hindrance to accomplishing her plans towards freedom, or is there something far more sinister happening underneath the surface?

Prologue. Part One.

PART ONE

June 2006

The young Jujutsu sorcerer is in disbelief. It is the middle of summer vacation, so there should be fewer curses. He tries to recall all their lessons, and think about what to do when there is a 7-feet curse right in front of you. At any other time, he would find this whole situation bothersome and pay more attention to the raging headache emerging in the back of his head. However, he is not given a chance to swim in his thought since there is a stegosaurus-looking ugly piece of shit in front of him. To add more salt to the wound, his best friend and classmate are clutched in the curse’s veiny mud-green tentacle. The curse tried to wrap his tentacle around the boy and to the boy’s dismay, he is caught by this simple-minded oaf. He was about to perform his last resort when a glimpse of a familiar head of hair fills his line of sight. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ He thinks, now concluding that he not only has to save his idiot of a best friend but also this inexperienced girl, as she climbs the scales of the curse like the goddamn playground.

‘If my skin gets a scratch, my nanny, no my mother, will murder me,’ she determines. The image of the small frame of Amaya Inumaki pops in her head and she does not know what terrifies her more, this dinosaur-looking curse or her mother. Inexperienced is what she is, in fact, she is not even allowed in these missions, for fear that her incompetent physical abilities will hinder everyone else. She could not help herself, the girl from the Kyoto branch of Jujutsu Tech made fun of her, saying that all her purpose in life is producing children. She was only supposed to watch, gain visual experience as her seniors handled the mission. She is not supposed to be seen. However, when she saw that her other senior was taken by the ugly squid, dinosaur love-child she had to do something. So now, here she is, the girl who cannot even run the mile for warm-ups, climbing this damn curse. If she was not so petrified, she would take a picture, to brag to her cousin Toge, secretly of course. It is not like she tried, her touch was just not enough, she needed to get up near its ear, to speak suggestions. She has done it before, but the past times were to her handmaiden, a petite woman in her twenties. It cannot be much different, right? The only real difference is that this is probably a Grade 2 curse at least, and of course its height of 7 feet. She is feeling that height of 7 feet as she continues to climb one step, or should she say one scale at a time.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Is what the teenage boy screams in the clutches of the curse. She chooses to ignore his question as she is feeling queasy, and vomiting in front of them is pathetic. “Get down from there, then run to the outside of the veil and call someone useful instead!” The boy demands this time, feeling extremely frustrated that his kouhai is not listening to his words. ‘Is she deaf as well?’ He ponders, trying extremely hard to not say it out loud. He sees her reach the top and he finally realizes that Y/n is trying to save them. He hears mumbling on her end and sees that her hands are clasped tightly on the curse’s ears screaming her cursed technique in the monster. By some miracle, after a couple of minutes, the monster’s tentacles start loosening up on the two best friends, enough for the both of them to pry themselves off its slimy limbs. The curse wobbles a little, then slams to the ground. She did not kill it, merely gave the two boys a much easier attempt at exorcising the damn thing.

“Thank you Y/n-chan,” the boy’s best friend decided to fill the silence first with gratitude since he knows that his best friend would soon do the opposite. “If it weren’t for you-”

“What the actual hell was that? Are you able to even see? Do your rose-tinted glasses also hinder you from seeing and assessing that the curse that you just climbed on was dangerous?” The boy finally explodes after minutes of collecting himself. What Y/n achieved was impressive but there are more matters of import right now.

“I am sorry, I saw that you were also taken and I panicked. No one knew I was here, so I could not necessarily call anyone-” started the young girl but it seems her apology falls to deaf ears.

“Do you even understand what they will do to us, once they know that you were even within 10 feet of a Grade 2 curse? Do you wish for us to die? Princess, I understand that things always seem to go your way with a bat of an eyelash, but you are toying with our lives here! Do you just not care about-”

“Then do not tell anyone! Do not put me in the report, I was going to tell you that no one has to know that I was even here to not endanger your lives, you stupid brute! Don’t interrupt the girl who just saved your goddamn lives!”

If the boy she was arguing with was surprised she even had that side to her vocabulary, he did not show it and continued with his lecture. “A spoiled princess like you, Y/n, cannot even fathom the hardships that we have to go through in this missions. Someone who is favored by everyone and does not even attend physical training should not be allowed an opinion, let alone that attitude in missions. Do us a favor, and never repeat this stunt of yours, understand? Kids like you should not be allowed in missions either.”

“What the hell? If I am a kid then so are you, asshole! For your information, you’re welcome from saving you back there, next time I will see to it to turn a blind eye when you’re in need. Jackass.” The girl was spouting words she saw from a novel. It had an ‘enemies to lovers’ trope, thus why there are many colorful words. She is extremely happy that she picked that book up, if she did not do that, she thinks that the boy’s yelling will make her cry instead.

As the girl started her way back to the school she could feel the two boys behind her. There is the only way to their school after all. Y/n felt the burn in the back of her head, the boy glaring at her probably wanted to create a hole in her head instead. Regardless, this did not phase her, as she almost skipped school with self-satisfaction in her steps. ‘I have a chance to become an actual sorcerer,’ she keeps thinking. For once in her life, she felt that she finally had a purpose other than being a bride. Everything was exhilarating. Nonetheless, no one told her that once the adrenaline rush is gone, she would feel all her emotions about the prideful event all at once, as she spent her night vomiting in the girls’ dorm bathroom.

__________

Present

This void feels familiar to the young woman, agonizing and terrifying, but she is certain of its familiarity. The last thing she remembers was those damn dildos falling from her hands and a certain white-haired senior. In this void though, she could faintly see a man, no a boy, a very handsome one at that, albeit too emo for her liking. This man was yelling at whoever she is at the moment, something about being spoiled and taking everything for granted. It feels like he is talking to the young woman, but she could not be sure, since the Inumaki clan will not let their daughter in even the mere vicinity with someone that looks like him. However, she understands that the person that she is in right now, as her vision starts to cloud with what seemed like tears. The teenage boy in front seemed to soften when he noticed the tears, and quickly left the room. Another boy, on the other hand, looked more gentle, loving, and caring, grasped her hands, and offered her a comforting smile.

The scene in front fades and jumps to another. This one consisted of another teenage boy, a different one he looks more sinister than the previous boys, alongside an older man that resembles to be his father. Akimitsu and Amaya were all seated at a table in some fancy restaurant and the boy smiles with what seems to be charming to everyone else, yet his eyes hold a malicious and almost a carnal intent in them. The person that she is right now is most likely a girl and she did not feel comfortable. This girl stood up and it looked to be abrupt, catching the attention of everyone in attendance, and the juvenile woman started running towards the exit.

The scene jumps again, briefly seeing your Amaya Inumaki with eyes that are attached to waterfalls. Her mother came closer and for some reason this body was terrified, even whimpering in anticipation. Surely this must, not be Y/n Inumaki’s memories? She loves her gentle caring mother, even if she tends to be absent at times. Why is this girl so terrified of her? The scene fades to black, once again as the woman, Amaya, touches the girl’s head and hands.

Y/n hears screaming into the nothingness, realizing it is her own, having had no idea how terrifying this place truly is, she had no idea that this place even existed for this source of fear to foster. Rocking herself in what she hoped was a corner, not knowing how else one can bring comfort oneself, a faint light emerges, as another scene appears. Her parents, Amaya Inumaki and Akimitsu Inumaki are calling her their daughter, not believing such words because of what she has just witnessed beforehand. Her mother is telling the adolescent to wear the pale-yellow kimono instead, to please ‘Naoya-sama.’ Her father tells her pointers that can impress the Zenin clan and that there is an awaiting punishment if failed to do so. Seeing the world move up and down, indicates that this girl is agreeing by nodding. However, inside she feels burning bile that wanted, no that needed to be gone. Y/n witnesses several more scenes, some horrifying and some downright bloodcurdling, that she does not know if her wish from earlier to be taken away from that black void was the right choice.

________

The bright lights blinded her, but it was received with joy. All the visions, not the memories, alongside the void filled her with immense anxiety and this warm feeling of the light is most definitely welcomed. “What happened?” She somehow willed her vocal cords and croaked the words. She did not scream in ‘Spencers,’ did she? That would have been painfully embarrassing, as an image of a young woman in a kimono screaming like a banshee in front of the dildos’ section burned in her mind.

“Ah, the angel finally awoke from her deep slumber! Or is that sleeping beauty-”

“Gojo-sama,” Y/n interrupts, it was rude she admits, but she cannot hear this white-haired man continue his oncoming rant about Disney princesses when her family could be seconds away from finding her and in turn take her away. She has no idea how long it has been, and she needs to estimate her family’s whereabouts to make up a plan to intercede that.

“Stingy, are we? Was your beauty sleep not enough? If you must know, not only did you knock Shoko out cold, you, my angel, managed to also do it to the whole school! Fortunately, Yaga is still asleep and it seems like some of my beloved first-year students are close to waking up. I guess it’s convenient for you that the weekly sorcerers' meeting has been canceled today. I wonder what any of them will say when they learn of your capabilities?”

“Excuse me,” the girl does not know how to start. She was not even aware of anything, until a few minutes ago, after learning from her visions. “That’s impossible, I can only use my technique on one person at a time,” she reasons out. She now knows the widespread of her abilities and she would be damned if the Satoru Gojo finds out what they are, before Y/n can even determine her next step.

“Ah, ah! Angels can’t lie! If you don’t want to tell me right now, that’s alright, I can easily eliminate you if necessary,” Eliminate, not stop, the girl notes. She has unfortunately been written in Satoru Gojo’s ‘to kill list,’ it seems. “What you need to tell me, though sweetheart, are your intentions.” She hears the deeper change in intonation in his voice. This must be serious Satoru. “I can’t have you walk out of here without giving me some assurances.”

“I thought you could easily eliminate me in one go? Why do I have to provide you with assurances? Are you, perhaps, scared Gojo-sama?” She does not know, why now of all times has she let her filter go. This was extremely reckless to do, especially to someone that can kill her without him physically moving.

“And she has an attitude! Wonderful Y/n-chan! I do love a woman that keeps me on my toes, and you angel, managed to surprise me many times today! If you must know, you basically put everyone on hostage and the only one that is awake right now, it seems, is Toge-Kun. He is on his way here right now actually; does that mean he knows about this?” That damned Six-Eyes of the Gojo clan.

“No! Toge-Kun is innocent. He is only a child and he does not know anything. Please, keep him away from this. Especially, when my family comes for me. I am currently in a predicament and I do not know who to trust. He and I should be separated right now.”

“Nee-san?” I guess you were too late. Throughout the many years together in the Inumaki estate, you have come to understand Toge without his need to say the ingredients of onigiri. His eyes alone already speak a thousand words. You can see the hurt and betrayal in them as if to say, ‘you do not trust me?’

“I am sorry Toge-Kun! I didn't mean to hurt you. Mother and Father must be on their way, please do not let them see you here. I promise you that I will tell you everything once it has all settled down, okay?” A protest starts to fill his eyes and mannerisms, which Y/n quickly decimates with a firm yet motherly, “Now, Toge.” Her cousin let his head fall and nodded slowly. He starts his way to the door, when she quickly stops him, “I’m sorry, Toge. You are the only one I trust okay?” The cursed speech user seemed to brighten up more once he heard her reassuring words and quickly left the room.

“That was touching and all, but I am curious about one thing,” Gojo interrupts Y/n’s train of thought.

“Before you ask, will you please do me a favor?”

“What is it, my darling?”

“Please do not let my parents or the Zenin’s bring me back to the estate. I cannot afford to be brought back there again.” Now that Y/n is aware of the sinister things happening around her, the last thing she needs is for the cycle to continue by being dragged to the Inumaki estate and back to her parents’ clutches.

“You wish, my command, my darling, but it comes with a price. Fairly easy, actually."

The shit-eating grin Satoru has plastered on his face is a definite foretelling that this so-called ‘price’ is not even in the same galaxy as ‘fairly easy.’ Regardless, she abides by his wishes, because if anyone can stop the two clans' impending plan, it’s the strongest sorcerer. “Anything,” she responds with slight hesitation.

“Answer my questions,” he fires back as soon as she responded.

“Alright, if you accomplish the task I asked you to do I will answer all of them, is that good enough for you?”

“Wonderful! So, have you come to a choice between the pink or yellow dildo-” he did not get to finish, for Y/n threw the hospital pillow at him, with Infinity stopping the intended course of action of course. “I mean if you truly wanted some, this senior is overjoyed to oblige.” You could not retort an excuse as he teleported away comically looking like the Cheshire cat as it seemed like his grin was the last to leave the place.

‘That’s enough incentive for him, I guess,” Y/n thinks. Immediately, resuming to the forming and solidifying of her plan of action, once her family, no once Armageddon arrives.

To be continued.

part two.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I know it is a bit slow at the moment, but things will start picking up on the next chapter! The next update will most likely be this saturday nov 20 or sunday nov 21. I hope you all have a great day!

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #zenin naoya #zenin #inumaki

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littlesniggy · 3 years

Note

Helloooooo! I love your writing and was looking forward to the request being opened again🥺 I'm feeling so excited right now!

Hmm, may i ask for a nsfw scenario with ichiji where he says "my face is your throne, come sit on it"?

Have a good day 💗

Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting! I love writing for Ichiji and I hope you like it! I'm not entirely sure what readers and Ichiji's relationship exactly is but I'd say it's pretty close to being in an actual relationship lol Reader is not royal (and maybe is/has been a servant?) and Ichiji just sticks to to her every chance he gets. I hope you're not mad at me but I changed your quote cause it just fit so perfectly but I can change it if you want! Just send me a message and tell me!! Anyway, please enjoy!

Warning: 18+, nsfw, oral, light slapping, name calling, King x Queen (servant lol)

Pairing: Ichiji x female reader

Word count: 2.4k

With an amused look he watched you order the cooks around, wanting everything to be perfect for the big day. He’d usually never even dream of lowering himself to coming down here but the whispering of the servants left him curious and he was surprised to actually see you invest so much time and effort into something so trivial and stupid like a birthday – of all the things you could’ve chosen to invest time in it was a birthday! He found it ridiculous.

“Instead of grinning so smugly you could help too!” you demanded, putting your hands on your hips. Ichiji raised an eyebrow in enjoyment, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Help?” he asked, voice sounding cocky. “Nah, that’s peasant’s work. But I guess you feel right at home here, don’t you, Y/n?” He was testing you but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting flustered.

“And what if I do?” you retorted, crossing your arms as well, taking up the challenge. The man snickered, the grin not leaving his face. “Serf stays serf, amirite?” his voice dropped an octave, knowing he hit a nerve but not giving a shit at all. You grinded your teeth, breathed in and out of your nose deeply before putting on a fake smile.

“Guess so. Got a problem with it?” He knew he got you and one more word could push you over the edge but he weighed his options and came to the conclusion that you being in a bad mood was not worth the fun. “See you later then, Y/n. Don’t overexert yourself down here. Father’s party is about to start in an hour and I want you to take a shower before you show yourself. Just cuz you like hanging around the servants you don’t need to look like one.” And with that, he left.

You watched him leave; once he was gone, the anger hit you and you let out an angry screech. “Bastard!” you yelled after him before turning back to the cooks who were all standing there petrified at this encounter. Nobody dared to talk to him like that and live. Understandably, they had no idea how to behave.

“What are you looking at?! Get back to work!”

Judge’s birthday was as boring as you had expected – until the drinking came! You knew Ichiji and his siblings wouldn’t get drunk but all these high-profile people that had been invited sure as hell did. You weren’t particularly fond of the Vinsmoke leader but it was always good to be on his good side; especially since he was the one who let you stay here. Ichiji would kick you off this kingdom if his father told him to.

You were standing on the side line, a drink in your hand but still sober. After all, this was still your first and you never intended on getting drunk yourself. Niji and Yonji were drinking two other princes under the table, mocking them for being so weak. Barely dressed ladies kept serving alcohol, being subject to a lot of maybe wanted or unwanted attention, you didn’t know but either way they knew what they were getting into.

“This party is quite the success. You’re gonna stay to clean up after everyone, too, servant?” you heard Ichiji’s voice next to you and were surprised to see him lean casually against the wall, a mug of beer in his hand. “And if I did?” you questioned, turning your whole body towards him, getting closer and leaning your body against his, looking up at him suggestively. “Are you gonna punish me?”

Ichiji’s smirk grew wider, his hand finding its way to your cheek, gently stroking it. “Depends….” He said, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. “On what?” you whispered, putting his thumb between your lips, lightly sucking on the digit while never breaking eye contact.

“If you do a good job or not. Can’t have a sloppy maid now, can I?” he replied, enjoying the way your sucked in his finger with your mouth. “Guess you can’t. But I guess I’m more of a queen material anyway, right?” you started moving your head back and forth slowly, tasting the salt on his skin. “Queen material?” he chuckled, pulling his thumb out of your wet cave. “You’re not even close to being a princess. So what makes you think you can be a queen?” he smeared your saliva on your cheek, awaiting your response.

“Well…and the reason for that is that you’ve never actually taught me how to be a proper queen in the first place. So I’d say it’s actually your fault, isn’t it?” you bit your bottom lip, loving the way you two went back and forth until one of you won. Or landed in bed.

“Is that so? Then I guess I have to teach you.”

“I’m not expert but I think this is not how a queen behaves….” You said, looking up at Ichiji not overly excited about your position. You had your hands were folded on your naked lap, your bare breasts being on full display for him to look at. When you were thinking about him giving you “lessons” about being a queen, you had the slight hope he would actually let you command him around but you should’ve known better.

“Before you can be a queen, you need to learn how to listen to your king first, Y/n.” he said with a smug grin on his face, sitting in front of you on the bed, you between his spread legs like a good servant, not a queen. “Well, what does my king want?” you asked, looking up at him with one eyebrow raised.

“Your king wants you to please him, like the good little slut you usually are for him.” He purred. “And how does my king wish to be pleased?” you insisted, already knowing the answer. You saw a slight twitch in his pants to your words, getting hard by you being so submissive to him. Why haven’t you done this before? Master and slave, or if you wanted to insist king and “queen”, was really doing it for him. And you two haven’t even really started yet.

“Why don’t you start by opening my pants? You need to serve your king, remember? And undressing him is part of this.” He answered, watching how you got up with a small grin on your lips, starting to undress him completely. He had to get up for you to remove his pants but when you were done, you sat back down between your legs, looking up at him with big eyes.

You tried to ignore his member practically poking your face and instead focus on his face. “You may worship my body.” He allowed you with this condescending tone and shit eating grin but it turned you on. To be honest, this position had you even more excited than originally expected. His harsh eyes boring into you, devouring every inch of your naked body, leaving a hot prickle on your skin.

Your hands started moving up his calved, your face leaning in to kiss the skin of his legs up, over his knees and to his thighs. Your palms came up with your head, rubbing the sensitive skin on his inner thighs, seeing how he got light goosebumps at your touch. His member twitched a little, bobbing up and down in front of your face but you didn’t pay it attention just yet.

Your lips kissed his thighs, your teeth lightly scratching over the flesh before you moved further up to his hip bone, nibbling on it while your hands felt his abs, tracing each pack carefully, feeling how his muscles flexed underneath your touch. His dick brushed against your cheek when you started kissing his stomach as well, his pre-cum leaving a hot and wet mark on your skin.

Your pussy started to get wetter at the short contact, already anticipating the moment it could wrap around him and clench him until he was dry. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, wanted to give yourself some pleasure as well but, in order to be a good queen, you needed to put his needs above your own (for now at least).

Your lips moved down again, kissing the junction of his lower abdomen and dick, his member pressed flush against your cheek while you did. You moved one hand to the base of his dick, wrapping your fingers around him and letting your thumb circle the soft skin of his dick. You wanted to hear him sigh at this contact but you were left disappointed. He never gave you the satisfaction of letting you see how good you made him feel.

“May I kiss your dick, my king?” you asked, looking back up at him again, waiting for permission. His dick twitched once again at your words, the grin growing even wider if that was even possible. “You may.” He allowed, watching how you slowly kissed his member with little butterfly kisses up and down.

“It’s so perfect, my king.” You praised him. Another twitch. “I wonder what it tastes like.” Even though you knew what he tasted like you enjoyed how his dick twitched with each word, betraying his otherwise aloof behavior. He was a human being with a good sex drive, after all. His father apparently didn’t wipe out all of his emotions.

“You can give it a try.” He suggested. “Thank you.” Your mouth wrapped around the hot head, followed by a long and deep suck, eliciting a small grown from him. Finally, you thought satisfied. You let your tongue twirl around the tip, first slowly, then fast, then back to slowly. The pre-cum started coming out more frequently, being eagerly licked up by your tongue and swallowed.

“How eager you are to please your king. Maybe I can make a good queen out of you after all. But first, you need to put in a little more effort. I think you can fit more of me into your mouth, can’t you?” he asked. As a response, you started taking him in deeper and deeper, feeling how his big member filled your mouth to the brim before taking him down your throat, swallowing him to the base. Now it was your turn to grown at this feeling, the vibration stimulating him in return. “That’s right, Y/n. Just like that.” He praised, voice sounding a little strained.

You let his dick glide out your mouth again, sucking on his tip before taking him in deep into your mouth once more, this time only until his tip brushed against the back of your throat. With that, you started to bob your head forth and back in a steady pace, your hands moving in tandem with your mouth, giving him as much pleasure as possible.

You twisted your hand, varying the pressure of your hand around his shaft; your second hand came up to his balls, fondling them in your palm or squeezing lightly. You put in all your effort into pleasing him while your own arousal was dripping to the floor by now. Every time you took him in, tasted his pre-cum, made him twitch your core send up electric impulses through your body, begging to be pleased as well.

“Do you like my dick?” your heard him ask. A quick look up at his face told him you certainly did, hallowing your cheeks to suck at him again before bobbing your head repeatedly.

When you let him slip out of your mouth, you didn’t give him time to complain or reprimand you; you took your breasts and put them around his dick, starting to move them up and down, your eyes finding his anew. “Do you like this, my king?” you asked innocently, wiggling your breasts between your hands, creating a sight he simply couldn’t resist.

“I would be a fool if I didn’t.” he replied, watching how your tits moved around his dick. You lowered your head, letting your tongue flicker over the mushroom head every time it appeared, licking up his arousal once more. Your fingers started twisting your nipples, finally giving you some pleasure even though it was not the desired spot.

“Damn, Y/n. Pleasuring yourself? I thought I’ve told your that you should put my needs above your own…” he scolded you in amusement, loving the sight of your twisting your nipples while you gave him a tit job.

“I’ve been thinking….my job as your queen is to serve you but….what’s the king’s obligation towards his queen?” you asked, continuously moving around him. Ichiji huffed, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“If you have time to think and ask silly questions while your entire focus should be on pleasing me then I guess I was a little hasty in praising you.” He whispered in a deep tone, this bass resonating in your own body.

You bit your lip at his words but didn’t stop your movements; your fingers pinched your nipples hard, making you pant in response. “Maybe that’s because I need your help, my king.” You whispered back, rubbing your thighs together. “I’ve been dripping ever since I started to touch you, my king. Your body has just this effect on me…” you praised him, thinking it will increase your chances of him finally giving you pleasure as well.

Ichiji chuckled at your words and let go of your chin, instead tracing your cheek with his finger. “Is that so?” he asked curiously. “Of course, my king. I’m craving your body.” You kept going, looking him deep into his eyes. “Pathetic.” He purred, making you stop dead in your tracks at his words. What?

“You want to be a queen yet you act like the servant you’ve always been and always will be.” He grabbed your hair and pulled you on your feet, pulling your face close to his.

“But you-“

“- said I would teach you how to be a queen? I did. But the moment I told you to undress and get on your knees you should’ve fought back. Cuz that’s what queens do….”

“You damn bastard, you set me up!”

“I did. But I can’t say I didn’t like what you did. So, as the graceful and just king that I am, I’m gonna make you an offer.” His hand let go of your hair and instead pulled you onto his lab by your hips.

“Since you wanna be a queen so badly, why don’t you sit your dripping pussy down on my face? Cuz that’s the only throne you’ll be sitting on tonight.”

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aquilaofarkham · 3 years

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title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought.

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️ Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity.

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.”

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician.

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

“I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough.

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

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tearsofgrace · 3 years

Text

endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless.

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak.

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me.

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay.

the last line of the good place "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.” is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot.

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen.

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was.

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT.

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure.

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole.

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that.

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them.

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him.

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong.

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion.

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end.

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap.

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass.

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at.

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts.

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved.

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester.

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other.

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity.

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way.

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth.

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die?

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will.

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale.

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it.

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Claiming Ones Own

Ok so, sorry for such a slow update on this. I had an attack of brain worm ideas which distracted/refused to let me focus on the chapter for a while. Have destroyed/dealt with most of the new ideas and have finally finished the chapter 🎉

Masterlist

[Chapter 1] [Previous]

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Chapter 5 - Playtime Chaos

Cass was going to kill Jason. That is, if Marie didn’t do it first by accident. He needed to go back to Gotham ASAP and get out of her hair! He may have been helpful to begin with, but now he was a menace and needed to go!

Jason had created a ‘new game’, well he said it was one he and Alfred used to play when he first moved into the manor, but it was still new to Cass. Only Jason had not really thought through the consequences of said game. He hadn’t thought that this game was with Cass and him rather than with Alfred who had obviously thought the game through properly.

The game, of which Jason thought was an amazing idea, was to redirect Marie's pickpocketing habit. If she pickpocketed strangers chocolate rights were reduced. Marie figured this rule out quickly which resulted in one horrific drama due reduced chocolate for the day. It was painful with lots of tears for all involved. Then there was a chocolate reward/increase rule when she pickpocketed Cass or Jason.

Cass might have agreed with his logic. It was a good game to bond with her, ensure she felt her skills remained and reduce the thieving, but this… THIS… result should have been expected!

What they hadn't considered is that the pair often carried weapons on them ALL the time. In and out the house. The pair were paranoid. Marie had observed the pair and quickly worked out what and where they stored these weapons.

Marie was also good at being light fingered to begin with. They knew that. THEY HAD EXPERIENCED IT. This wasn't new territory for her.

Training Marie further was a bad idea.

Cass so wanted to kill Jason for this game.

Cass’s heart couldn’t cope with it anymore. When the knives were taken it was anxiety inducing. Watching her daughter dance around with a knife, playing with it and watching it slice through the air caused so much panic in Cass.

The positive of that event was that Cass had started to train her daughter in basic swordplay. She observed, much like Damian, that going through basic positions and movements grounded and calmed her daughters chaotic energy. Marie was picking the skill up quickly so official 'safe fencing lessons' will be added to the girls learning activities.

Jason though, Jason her ‘delightful brother’ (if he survived her wrath), carried guns. He had ‘hidden’ guns around her apartment. So coming home from shopping to find her precious, innocent, sticky fingered Marie, inspecting and playing a gun was petrifying.

And Jason who was meant to be watching her daughter was missing! It was the last straw for Cass.

…………………………………………..

Jason admits that this may have been a mistake. Thinking back with a more analytical perspective than fond memories. Alfred had set it up that Jason would nearly always win the game. Alfred knew where weapons were but didn’t carry them around on his person.

Marie was a natural. Jason was super proud of his niece, she was getting swifter and lighter at each attempt. Her playing with the finds aka knives was maybe a little oversight. Cass’s reaction to it all was even less fun. Her subtle disgruntledness was made known to him unpleasantly. Swapping the sugar for salt in his morning coffee was revolting! But it at least was just basic pranks Cass was retaliating with… not Wayne Manor declarations of war…. He hoped...

He had popped out the room briefly (ok maybe not briefly but not for a really long time) as Roy had rang and wanted his assistance for a mission. Coming back into the room he found Pixie with his latest new toy *cough* gun and an irrate Cass looking like she would murder with the batglare she throw at him.

"Hi Cass.... Pixie… Roy just called asking for my assistance. I'll," he gulped as his sister levelled him with a laser beam stare and his niece turned to him, pointing the gun in a way he was showing her earlier, with curiosity showing on her face. "I'll be leaving in a few days… umm Pixie could you be a sweetheart and aim the gun downwards please?"

His niece frowned at him looking at it and him "Chocolate?" Jason quickly glanced at Cass and could feel the icy waves wafting off her. "Errr... Yeah sure thing sweetie. But to get it you will need to put the gun down first please."

Marie broke into a grin and put the gun in the coffee table skipping over to Jason to grab his hand leading him to her treasure. "Your stance then was much better, Pixie, and I didn't even feel you take the gun this time. You've improved loads this week."

He felt Cass's anger pour off her. Maybe he should have asked if he could teach Pixie about guns....

When the pair returned to the living room, Cass handed Jason his suitcase. "Go! Be Roy's issue now"

…………………………………………..

With Jason gone Cass found that the apartment was much quieter with just the pair of them, especially as sign language seemed to be both of their preferred communication method. Cass turned to playing music in the background to remind her of her siblings back in Gotham (not Jason though), this caused her to dance absentmindedly. Marie was often caught trying to mimicking her dance moves with light footwork, her grace and form yet to be perfected.

Cass saw this as another class to sign her daughter up to along with fencing to burn the chaotic energy up. Especially now Jason wasn't around playing rough and tumble with her.

................................................................

It was one afternoon about a month after Jason had left that Cass had a break through. While Marie was setting up a tea ceremony (a post swordplay practice ritual she'd got into), Cass had stumbled on her first actual clue in finding out about Marie's past. Her search had finally unearthed similar symbols, used centuries ago by some Tibetan monks, to the ones that were on her back. What this meant Cass was unsure. To progress further she probably needed to talk to Babs or Tim, but if she did that she'd have to tell them why. Which everyone finding about Marie and she wasn't ready for that.

She still fretted over what Marie must have gone though and to unleash the Wayne's on her seemed daunting.

Cass was about to look further into what she had gathered when her phone went off. It Alfred calling which was unusual.

"Alfred"

"Hello Miss Cassandra. I hope you are well and have settled into motherhood comfortably."

Cass paled. Alfred knew!! Damn it Jason!!! He was dead meat when she saw him next.

"Adapting. Marie, your great granddaughter, is sweet. Both learning about being together"

"I see. I am assuming that that is going well. Master Jason has mentioned that you found her on the streets in a similar manner to how he was found."

Jason guns were going to go missing and be replaced with water pistols.

"Yes. Much better now. Learning sign to talk to each other. Eating better too."

"That is good news to hear Miss Cassandra."

It was a set up. Jason had triggered in and Alfred was waiting to pounce. There was no way to escape but to make it easier for her self.

"We visit you soon. Wanted Marie settled first."

"I'll arrange a flight for you in a fortnight's time. Is there anything young Miss Marie will require."

Completely trapped now she'd taken the bait. Alfred knew it, she knew it. And everyone will know about Marie in no time. Maybe she would be able to get Babs and Tims help after all.

"Thank you Alfred. Bunk bed, milk chocolate and chocolate spread please." Cass paused for a second as Marie looked over to her signing 'tea time Mama'

"Loose green tea leaves too, for tea ceremony, please."

Cass finally could hear a smile in Alfred's voice and relaxed slightly. She may have escaped some of Alfred's disappointment.

"I will ensure I meet those requirements Miss Cassandra. I will send you your flight details when I have finished arranging them. I look forward to seeing you again Miss Cassandra, and to meeting Miss Marie. I will now take my leave for you to spend time with you daughter."

Looks like she will be needing to prepare Maire for a flight and meeting the family. She would have to up her parenting game to ensure she completely beat Bruce.

Moments after she had hung up Alfred had sent flight details across. Complete evidence that the whole call as a ruse and he got what he wanted. Well played Alfred well played. Cass responded to Alfred, thanking him for his efficiency and to arrange some face time calls to occur in the next fortnight. Alfred deserved to get to know her precious Marie first so at least she had an ally in the Manor when they visited. Someone other than Jason. That reminded Cass to shoot a text to Jason

*You.are.dead.betrayer.*

He replied quickly to her message

*Adventure with Roy went sideways. Alfred wasn't happy. I needed something to soften the blow!!! I'm sorry!!! Don't kill me!!*

Pah! He sold her out that's what. He was in Alfred's book of disappointment and didn't want to be there alone so dragged her to hell too. Jokes on him, she'll work her and Marie magic to make it work for them. Her phone buzzed again as Jason messaged her again. Ignoring it she went to join Marie for tea and tell her the 'fun news'.

In her head she had a fortnight to prepare her revenge.

Tag List:

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#maribat #maribat au #claiming ones own #marinette x cass #plantonic #found family #marinette x jason #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #dc x mlb

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