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#and i just accepted death was the only option
maychorian · 17 hours
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Dungeon Meshi has fully consumed me, especially a certain tiny union man, and I want to ramble about Chilchuck's traumatic backstory for a bit. Mild manga spoilers under the cut.
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The first time I read the manga I missed this bit, since I was reading an online version that didn't have all the extras included. Since I've come across this litte omake, though, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It just explains so much about why Chilchuck is the way he is.
First, at a surface level, it's interesting that this backstory only comes out in the framework of talking about a monster. Chilchuck is offering basically an anecdote about succubi, adding to the conversation he and his party are having about a monster species. It's all very casual and offhand. No one even remarks on what that experience would have meant to Chilchuck on a personal level, and he doesn't dwell on it, either. You have to wonder if Chilchuck would have ever mentioned it at all if they weren't specifically talking about succubi.
But holy heck, just think about this for a moment. On one of Chilchuck's first outings as an adventurer, possibly the first time he joined a party, his fellow adventurers were planning to feed him to a monster. He's only alive now because he had the instinct that something was wrong and had the speed, wisdom, and stealth to run away. He could have died. He could have been murdered. And it's implied that this happens to half-foots frequently in this world.
How traumatizing would that have been for a young adventurer? The people he should have been able to trust to have his back were literally planning his death, all for monetary gain. He was treated as disposable, a resource to be exploited, not a person. Not only is there the trauma of narrowly escaping death here, there's also the trauma of being mistreated and abused by other thinking, intelligent beings.
No freaking wonder he has trust issues. He's been working with Laios and his party for three years at this point and he's never shared a single solitary personal detail about his life, not even his age. He can't bear to allow any vulnerability to show, because he can't allow himself to be taken advantage of again. No wonder he's so prickly and wary. No wonder he's so sensitive to being viewed as anything other than a capable, skilled, fully realized and autonomous adult. No wonder he shies away from affection and any hint of closeness, especially in the early chapters of the manga.
I'm amazed that Chilchuck had the strength and fortitude to stay in the business at all. He considered his options and took steps to keep himself safe, including only accepting pay in advance and starting a union to protect himself and other half-foots. (Another tidbit you don't get at first in the story--Chilchuck is not just a member of a union or the leader, he started the whole dang thing to begin with.)
But what's so lovely, and wonderful, what makes this story take over my brain so completely and utterly, is that Chilchuck doesn't stay this way. Over the course of the manga, he opens up more and more. He allows himself to be emotionally vulnerable; he shares more and more details of his life. He treats Marcille and Izutsumi like daughters, Laios and Senshi like brothers. He loves them and allows himself to be loved in return.
And that's one of many reasons that Dungeon Meshi is one of the best found-family stories I've come across in a long, long time.
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I was still mulling over all he said when I slipped into my tent to finally change out of my leathers, leaving him and Elain to go find a place to wash up. And talk—perhaps.
Did you ever wonder what was said between the two of them? Well I wrote what I imagined transpired between them!
Lucien and Elain went to another tent, carrying buckets of water with them to wash themselves. Lucien had noticed for a relatively small woman, she packed a surprising amount of strength in her body. All that gardening must have paid off.
He hardly had any idea what to say to her. That had never been a problem for him in the past. He always knew the right thing to say in every situation, even if he didn't always say it (like with Amarantha). But with Elain...words simply left his brain. It was maddening. Cauldron knew he wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know how.
He hadn't failed to notice how Elain had deflected the kill of the King of Hybern to Nesta, even though it was her shot that had ultimately led to his demise. She might not have beheaded him, but she ultimately was the cause of his death. She must know that. But Elain, Lucien observed, was far more peaceful than her sisters. Perhaps the idea of taking another's life was abhorrent to her. That, at least, he could understand. Perhaps there was some sense in their mating bond, after all.
"You're staring," Elain pointed out. Lucien snapped out of his thoughts. "I-er-sorry." Lucien pinched his nose. This was going disastrously. "I was just thinking."
She tilted her head like a curious doe. "Of what?" She placed the large bucket in her arms down, picking up a small bucket to scoop water with to wash her hands.
Shutting up was not Lucien's strong suit, so naturally, the only option was to nervously ramble. "That I am guessing the King of Hybern was your first kill, and I know you despise violence, and so do I, but it's something that unfortunately we have to do under extreme circumstances, and I just wanted to say, that I understand your reluctance to accept that kill. I cried a lot the first time I took a life, and especially after Jesminda, violence disturbs me."
Elain peered at him with those curious eyes again. "Who is Jesminda?"
Lucien internally cursed himself for his inability to shut the fuck up. Not that he wished to hide Jesminda from her, but...he did not wish to speak of her at this time.
"My...well, she was to be my wife. Long ago. Unfortunately, that did not turn out well for either of us."
"Your father killed her?"
Lucien blinked. "How did you know?"
Elain shrugged. "Lucky guess." How the hell was that a lucky guess? He wondered what stories Feyre had told Elain about him. Had she spoken all about his father? Not like Feyre knew all that much about Beron herself.
Just then, Elain began to unbutton her shift. Lucien couldn't control his blush. "Yeah, well, I'll just..." then Lucien pointed in the opposite direction. Elain ignored him. Lucien cursed himself. There was no need to say anything in that situation. Motherfucking idiot. He quickly stripped and began to bathe in the water he had. He tried to ignore the sounds Elain made behind him, focusing on his own shower, but silence bothered him, and his stupid tongue desired to speak again.
"I understand if you're hesitant about the mating bond," he began. Still nothing.
"I just wanted to say...well you're immortal now. And I'm also immortal. You have all the time to decide what you want to do."
He finished off and began to reach for his towel, determinedly avoiding looking at Elain. As he dried himself off, she softly said, "You can look now."
Cautiously, Lucien turned towards her. "Thank you," she said. "For giving me space." She took a deep breath. "I-well, you know I was to be married. I still love him, but I know now that he never loved me." A little steel entered her eyes and her next words were colder. "Otherwise, he would've never rejected me so heartlessly simply because my body changed."
Rage took hold of Lucien's body, a desire to rip Graysen to shreds for having ever claimed Elain, for daring to hurt her feelings in such a heartless way. An uncontrollable mating instinct. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, weathering the instinct. Deep breaths. One. Two. Finally, he managed to gain a hold of himself enough to speak. "If it makes you feel better, he's ugly and stupid with an eternal stick up his ass," Lucien suggested.
To his relief, Elain burst out laughing. "That does make me feel quite a bit better." Lucien felt a surge of confidence, the last of his anger dissipating, and he gave a bow. "I am at your service m'lady." Elain smiled. "Duly noted, m'lord." Something in his chest sparked at that.
My lord, she had called him.
Her lord.
Her mate.
Her Lucien.
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mercuriians · 1 day
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my paradise
jjk,, k. nanami x fem! reader
content info — short drabble, angst horribly and lazily disguised as fluff. <3 this fic was borne out of my own anguish upon witnessing certain spoilers. (gege hates us all)
author’s note — sorry for being mia. you guys all know how life can be. luckily i’m on break so i’ll do my best to send out at least one finished request 🙂‍↕️ i’ll fix this post’s format later, for now i hope you guys enjoy my first attempt at writing jjk.
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"do you think heaven exists?"
you utter your question so softly, so innocently, in a timid whisper that seems like it barely even leaves your lips in the first place. the moonlight seeping from the window is dim, just enough to surround the room in a bleak, lazy kind of aura. nanami's just about ready to drift away into slumber—where it's dreamless and monotonous, and he simply just exists—but somehow there's a feeling that tugs at him. telling him that he should turn his body to face you, to see whether there's childlike curiosity within your eyes or quiet desolation.
so that's what he does. twisting around in the ivory bedsheets, he examines your expression with an air of diligence that probably shouldn't even be possible in the near-midnight hour. nanami ends up being a bit surprised. somehow you look calm. tranquil. like there's nothing else in the world worth focusing on but him.
but he still treads carefully, cautiously. "why do you ask, love?" nanami's voice is a bit hoarse, a little rusty from the lengthy time he's been silent.
perceptively, he sees the column of your throat move slightly as you swallow. "while i was on break earlier today, yuji asked me something," you admit. "he wanted to know how he could, in his words, 'give people a proper death' when the time came. and i guess that made me think about where we even go when we finally depart from this world. where our souls go to rest."
there's a small, intimate pause as nanami waits for you to continue.
"when we were kids, we were always told that there's a place for the good people and for the bad. obviously it's comforting to let yourself believe that it's all really that black-and-white, but i don't know." your voice trails off again. nanami doesn't know how much time passes when he sees your eyes become clouded over, like you're focused on something faraway. something distant, maybe something that wasn’t even there to begin with. "would there be some sort of paradise waiting for us when we die? would we even deserve that, kento?” you whisper.
he holds his breath.
it was exceedingly rare for you to succumb to such sentimentality. you were almost always driven with diligence, fueled by the need to stick to your schedule of early mornings, midday coffee breaks, and late shifts. in a world where curses ruthlessly threatened to enforce a strict hierarchy of chaos, he recognized the all-too-significant desire to at least maintain a reliable form of organization. especially considering the fact that you were both first-grade sorcerers. some of the very best.
but now, nanami's realizing that maybe, maybe the reason why you were always so vigilant is because there was no other option. there was no time to wallow in self-pity, to question why you both had to live in such a merciless society, to scream out in frustration and curse out every single damn thing in existence and wish that things had been at least a little bit easier.
either you accepted the cards you were dealt with, or you opted out of the game permanently.
nanami quickly wonders what that means for himself. but he shakes off the thought, shakes off the negativity that crept up on him for a split-second with the expertise that he's collected and honed over the years.
right now, his only objective revolved around you.
gently, he reaches out, touching your face with the calloused tips of his fingers. for a moment, he traces the smoothness of your skin, like a paintbrush to a canvas, before moving a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the way you look up at him with eyes just short of being teary makes his chest tighten, but he perseveres for you.
it's all for you. whether he likes it or not.
"i don't know the answer to that, and any sane person living on this planet wouldn't know either," nanami finally utters. as his words hit the empty air, he sees your pink lips curve upwards by the slightest bit. it’s like you can’t help but be amused by his trademark bluntness. even in the middle of such a bleak conversation, nanami’s glad that he can at least bring you some resemblance of joy.
“but the way i see it,” he continues, hand dipping down to find yours almost instinctively, “none of that matters.”
your brows furrow. you curl into his comforting figure. “what do you mean?”
nanami’s eyes meet yours. “i couldn’t give less of a damn about what happens after death. not when i’m here with you in this moment,” he whispers, unable to restrain himself from inching closer, closer towards your face, “and hopefully the millions after.”
his lips brush against your own. it’s tentative, even almost shy—his way of asking you if this is alright.
you seal the gap without a second thought.
nanami pulls you closer. his arms wrap around your waist, as if he was unwilling to ever let go.
the intimacy of it all is enough to make him forget that for a moment, he was lost in thought, lost in the realization that people truly were helpless to whatever happened in the afterlife. but really, above all else, he was a soldier—had been since the day he enrolled at jujutsu high. and as long as you were safe, nothing else would matter. including his own—insignificant, small, dispensable—life.
at that moment, nanami’s armor became yours instead.
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sgtmickeyslaughter · 2 days
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66 and 84🥹?
Hi anon! i hope its satifsying to get your prompt answered after a week, i just didnt like this and didnt know how to end it but ive accepted that im not going to make it any better and here you go!
84. Show me what’s behind your back + 66. How could I ever forget about you?
Ian held out for so, so long, he’d like that on the record. 
He didn't know about it until they moved into the westside apartment. His alarm bells started going off when he noticed Mickey being careful with something. It was unusual for Mickey, who usually threw his shit around without a care and it made Ian’s Mickey specific senses prick up. 
He’d subtly tracked Mickey’s movements as they unpacked, knowing that if Mickey was bothering to try to hide something, there was no point in asking from the jump because he wouldn’t get answer. 
And Ian trusted his husband, and was making a point to show that, so if Mickey wanted to hide the little unlabeled tin somewhere Ian wouldn’t find it (in the hollowed out contents of a book and buried in his nightstand, Ian wasn’t a saint and there was no logical explanation for Mickey owning a book that big) Ian would let him have that, it’s not like the contents of that tin would be life or death, right?
That’s what Ian kept telling himself when Mickey disappeared one night. He was supposed to be with Sandy and back in time for dinner, but there Ian was at midnight, wondering where the hell his husband was. 
He’d exhausted, his options; calling Mickey, calling Sandy, calling Debbie and Lip, and finally calling the hospital. Nothing. No one was answering.
So Ian stretched his mind to what kind of trouble his husband could be getting into, and it kept going back to that little mystery tin. 
Fuck it. Ian creeped down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light from nerves even though he was the only one home. Once he finally rifled through Mickey’s nightstand, searching through miscellaneous pens and notebooks and half eaten protein bars Ian told him to throw away weeks ago, he found the big heavy book tucked all the way in the back. 
Smoothing his thumb over the cover, Ian tried to make out what it originally said. Maybe cigars? Or bullets, knowing Mickey. It was bigger than a mint tin but smaller than a lunchbox and rusting lightly around some of the corners. 
Cautiously lifting the lid, Ian peered in curiously, all thoughts of it possibly holding the secret to Mickey’s location fading away as he took in the contents. 
It had Mickey’s birth certificate, for one. Mikhalio Aleksander Milkovich. August 10th 1994. Cook County, born at 3:36 am. There was a white lighter, which didn’t have any gas left in it, but Ian kind of recognized it from when they were kids. There was a photo of a woman with dark hair, standing unsmilingly in front of a white wall. A little green army man, like the ones that littered Ian’s childhood bedroom, and a photo of Mickey and Mandy that must’ve been taken on Mandy’s first phone, judging from the quality. 
An old strip of paper with a phone number, a GED with Mickey’s name on it which made Ian’s eyebrows raise. An ID with a photo of younger Mickey that listed him as Casimir Bukowski. And finally, a very, very old photo of Ian, with a beanie and a smirk, flipping off the camera like he thought he was the shit. 
There were a couple of water stains, and places where the shitty inkjet paper was faded nearly white, but it was obviously him. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” 
Ian whipped around and closed the tin behind him as he faced his husband.
“Nothing,” he defended immediately. “What the fuck are you doing back so late? I was worried.”
“Got fucking trashed with Sandy” Mickey said. “Had to listen to her fucking dyke drama.”
“You should have called me!” Ian insisted angrily. 
“What’re are you hiding?” Mickey slurred curiously. 
“I am not-” Ian started indignantly, cheeks heating up.
“Show me what’s behind your back” Mickey ordered.
“Your mystery box” Ian admitted, throwing the tin onto their comforter. 
Mickey snorted inelegantly, walking over to join Ian and sitting on his side of the bed, stumbling slightly. 
Pulling the box into his lap, Mickey shuffled through the contents halfheartedly “it’s not a mystery, it’s just my shit.”
“You don’t have to hide it,” Ian said quietly, sitting next to him. 
“Force of habit” Mickey explained away.
Chewing his lip, Ian debated how to bring up the photo that shocked him the most “that’s a really old picture, you can have a new one.”
“I’ve had it for a while,” Mickey said unhelpfully, like that explained it.
“How’d you even get it?”
“Mandy printed it out, I guess she took it” Ian tried to think back and vaguely remembered Mandy pointing a shitty snapshot camera at him before she made him take photos of her. “I stole it after you left, for the army.”
Mickey was looking at the photo now, rubbing his thumb over the worn paper. “I wanted to see you, I guess,” he admitted quietly. 
“I thought you forgot about me,” Ian said honestly.
“How could I forget about you?” Mickey asked honestly, finally looking up to meet Ian’s eyes with a wide, unfocused look. 
“I don’t know” Ian said, not really understanding his own motivations entirely, looking back. But also not ready to admit he assumed everyone forgot about him, even his own family. 
“Thought about you every day,” Mickey said quietly. 
But now he thought about Mickey sitting alone and looking at a photo of him in between moments of pretending, hiding in his own house from the wife he didn’t want and a father who despised him. 
“You really love me, huh?” Ian asked, peering curiously over at his husbands face. 
Mickey finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Gallagher.”
For a second, Ian was so overwhelmed with emotion he couldn’t stand to look at him, so Ian bumped his shoulder against Mickey’s, smiling bashfully as he over corrected and nearly fell off the bed.
“You’re fucking trashed” Ian accused. 
“Been drinking around you losers too much” Mickey defended tiredly, rubbing absentmindedly at his face.
“Yeah?” Ian asked sweetly, amusedly watching his husband fade into sleep in real time.
“M’yeah” Mickey agreed.
Ian kissed his head for a second before getting up and kneeling in front of him.
“Oh, I love you Ian, but there’s no way I’m gonna’ be able to do that” Mickey mumbled, blinking slowly down at him.
Ian just grinned and started unlacing his boots, knowing that Mickey was about fifteen seconds away from curling up on their clean comforter with dirty shoes. 
“You want some leftovers?” Ian asked once he finished taking off his husbands shoes. 
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat in the bed,” Mickey said tauntingly, digging his sock covered toes into Ian’s thigh. 
Ian fixed him with a glare until Mickey shook his head. Ian shrugged and helped Mickey out of his jacket and jeans, and rolled him into the center of the bed before he padded quietly into their bathroom to take his nighttime meds. 
When he got back into the bedroom, Mickey was sound asleep, snoring and drooling slightly against Ian’s pillow in the dim yellow light.
thanks for asking!
writers ask game
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in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )
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ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.
anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂
Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.
as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.
unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.
we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.
and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.
and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.
and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.
this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.
if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.
coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.
but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.
like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).
he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.
from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.
basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.
and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?
and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.
sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.
his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.
a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.
basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.
and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.
which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.
and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.
I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.
anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.
but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.
so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.
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worstloki · 10 months
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My issue with Thor not ‘realizing’ why Loki was acting off in Avengers 1 isn’t that Thor didn’t recognise Loki was acting unlike himself—Thor did note that—or that Thor didn’t figure out what was wrong—he did try asking—it’s more along the lines of Thor giving up, and that he accepted Loki was bad now within two days while knowing something was off when Thor himself behaved just as bad for much longer before without any specific compromising event.
#Thor was happy go kill for so long and Loki waited for Thor to get better and then Thor KNOWS something is up#and he still accepts Loki is evil now and never questions or visits Loki in prison again#he moped around about it because of duty and depression but that he had such little faith in Loki#like either his little brother really did go mad out of jealousy and rage AND is permanently like that with no resolution between them#it’s ridiculous#I like the Thor in my head who never believed Loki had actually gone mad and went after the infinity stones bc he suspected#the one that would not only trust Loki to get them off Asgard in TDW but knew Loki had the throne after and let it be that way#bc he knows his brother and wouldn’t stop believing Loki can ‘get better’ even if he’d truly gone mad#like I get that Thor in Avengers 1 would have been conflicted and could’ve taken everything at face value#Loki was DEAD and now he’s not of course Thor isn’t going to be thinking straight#it’s easy to look at Loki and assume he spent a year plotting revenge after faking his death#but Thor had time after to cool down and only gave Loki a chance in TDW when there was no other option#like did he genuinely think Loki will try to kill him#is Thor scared of Loki now or what#Thor’s spending so much time thinking of what he’s lost that he develops depression but doesn’t ever voice or support the idea that maybe#Loki was forced to do the invasion#AFTER he asks ‘who controls the would-be king’ like come on Thor just ask a follow-up question#Thor autistic king distracted by ‘YOUR father’ discourse fr#T-T#I simply don’t think Thor would have given up on Loki even if Loki stabbed him sorry#it wouldn’t even be bc he’s naive it’d be because he knows and loves his brother#and he’d keep hoping for a change of heart#he wouldn’t ditch the issue unless it was to go under the radar and that’s never explicitly implied#unfortunately#:(
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mettywiththenotes · 1 year
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It’s been a hot minute since I read the S&S chapters so forgive me if I’m getting some details wrong but I believe there’s a way to look at the S&S fight without labeling it as an unnecessary fight
It’s about how S&S was inspired by All Might, much like Izuku. However, S&S is a kind of justice that’s ignorant, that uses excessive force to win a fight, that believes what she is doing is in the best of interests but refuses to see it any other way
It’s like. It’s a fight with only one ending, between two/three stubborn enemies
One who believes what she is doing is the only right way but actively goes out of her way to kill the enemy no matter what, one who will stop at nothing to get whatever he wants and controls his victim’s mind and body (takes away his autonomy to the point where they aren’t “separate people” but instead “one person”), and one who is a victim in all of this but wholeheartedly believes he was always bad and so has his heart set on destruction despite the fact that, deep down, he wants to be saved
It’s sad because if S&S had taken All Might’s influence and HADN’T turned it into a whole Strength thing, if she was someone like Izuku who saw All Might’s influence and learned that incredible power should be used to save, not to kill, then she probably could have stopped TomurAFO, captured him and taken him to All Might or something
I believe the point of S&S, one of the points at least, is that if you solely view All Might’s existence as a power fantasy, then you’re getting nowhere and completely missing what it means to be a hero
Look at it this way - S&S’ role in the manga was just to rule out one route the story could have taken
Anybody looking at TomurAFO and thinking “If All Might were in his prime form, HE could have taken him out and the world would be saved!” is then faced with a character who was inspired a lot by All Might and gives off the impression that they can do anything (COUGH confident intimidating appearance COUGH a quirk that allows the user incredible power COUGH)
She then serves her purpose by cutting AFO’s quirks down by half, showing that not everybody inspired by All Might does the right thing and shows the audience that Tomura immediately thought about Izuku when “someone who will inherit the will of heroism” is mentioned
Yes, while someone like All Might may be able to go head to head with TomurAFO and do some real damage, the point ISN’T that TomurAFO needs to be defeated and killed
The point is that TomurAFO is a fusion of an abuser and his victim, and anybody who NEEDS help should be given that help no matter what
S&S, someone similar to All Might who COULD have killed TomurAFO and prevented destruction, someone who saw his death as the only way to end this, is taken out of the running
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Enter: Izuku Midoriya
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You know, the one Tenko thought of at the mention “inheriting the will of heroism”
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Idk I just. I can’t see the S&S chapters as pointless. They serve their purpose by letting the reader know that force and death is not the way out of this, that it’s not the story this manga is trying to tell
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love-too · 4 months
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And you hear the news of another young person taking their own life. Young, a child still. You imagine the darkness they must have felt and you don't know them, but you kind of do. Because they remind you of you and your own weirdness, the way you don't fit in, of your struggle to tell your family of this abnormality you carry within. As if your heart had more ventricles or a spare artery. As if the blood doesn't pump exactly the right way and it spills and it spills and it spills until it fills you up to the brim. You hear about the news in your car, the confirmation, while your mum is driving and despairing at the same time. There are tears in your eyes that shouldn't be there, you didn't know them after all, but the pressure has made its way upwards. Just a kid, still. And you think back at your dark days, of how that could have been you. Could still be. You still have a favourite street lamp, right after a sharp turn on a conveniently slippery road. Luckily, it's your mum's that's driving this time.
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mythvoiced · 1 month
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OPEN STARTER | Boo Yihwa
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"New idea: you fuck off or I'll kill you. I hate the way you smell."
#;open starter#the witch;yihwa#the witch;open#NEW FC NEW FC NEW FC couldn't find more resources for the old one plus i generally just wanted a new one lmao here she is#SO she's around 90 yrs old so fresh immortal she/her all the way and she hates people~#her 'immortality' is just her lengthening her lifespan by 'consuming' souls of the deceased#spirits yknow because if they're strong enough to stick around as spirits then they have enough life energy left#to be added to hers IT WORKED it's weird mathematics but she made it work#she's less of a witch and more of a psychic of sorts?? she doesn't really do spells she just#makes it look like it's spells when it's just her having figured out how to trap souls lmao#she's so much NOT fun to be around it's thrilling~#;queue#gosh i have to change her about doc#but hoNESTLY what with her fc change i really wanna WRITE her now LIKE DAMN#she's so muCH FUN because she doesn't mince her words and she hates everyone#OH AND ALSO she's terrified of death she will nOT die that's NOT AN OPTION#but she's also only 91 it's so funny all the shit she knows from the past is stuff your grandparent could corroborate#you should become her lil apprentice actually?? she'd HATE that but then she'd really angrily accept you after a while#and she'd turn you into a supervillain ngl or she'd try to#but you can then go around and say 'i wouldn't mess with me' bc if she starts considering you an extension of herself#or GOD FORBID care about you her deranged methods of self-protection wILL be extended onto you
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americanphancakes · 11 months
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I wanna talk about my mind for a little bit
I was gonna save this until after I posted the last Wingless Angel chapter but I can’t post it yet. Pretty sure my mind wants me to get this out of my system first.
So hi everyone, how are you? How have you been? Honestly if you’re still following at all I’m delighted.
I don’t want this to come across as some excuse for all the unfinished fanfic I left behind 3+ years ago, which is why I wanted to publish WA first, so I hope you don’t take it that way. But I ended up stumbling upon an aspect of my mental health that I’m still trying to address and since I never really saw anyone post or talk about my particular issue before very recently, I wanted to share it in case it resonates with anyone.
(Clearly stuff has changed, this is where I'd normally put a "read more" but.... I guess that's not a thing anymore?? Hopefully this isn't a huge annoying wall of text on everyone's dash, oof.)
I’ve posted before about my ADHD. I’ve been getting treatment for it for 10 years now, and for all that time, medication & other coping mechanisms have been helpful to a point, but only to a point. There was still something left that was keeping me from functioning, and I couldn’t tell what it was. All I knew was that I had no will of my own, and I’d spent the last 10 years trying to create situations where the people in charge were asking (or implying that i should do) things I considered good to do. “People in charge” meant anyone besides myself. If someone was not me, they automatically had authority, simply by virtue of being someone external to me.
I did a lot of research trying to find something that matched up with my experiences & feelings, even partially, and I looked into things like PDA autism and even just the people-pleasing habits common with other ADHD folks.
At some point, with therapy, I did learn how to say “no” to other people’s demands of me. I learned to set boundaries. But I was still profoundly uncomfortable with dictating what I was going to do, especially if anyone else was ever going to be aware of it.
When I was a little kid, i was told “no” constantly, and that’s not hyperbole. I’ve cited the story many times of falling in love with the violin when I was 9 but immediately being told “No, you’re going to play the flute.” So I played the flute, but without any passion for it I couldn’t figure it out and I quit, and my mom never stopped making me feel guilty about it. But that wasn’t the only example of that kind of thing. I wanted to play soccer; mom said play basketball, so I played basketball. I wanted to play piano; mom bought me a guitar and my sister got the electronic keyboard. (We eventually switched, but I never felt like I could fully commit to playing the thing). I wanted to learn Spanish or Japanese in high school; mom told me to learn French, so I took four fucking years of French.
My feelings and wishes were effectively not a factor in what I was allowed to do, what goals I was allowed to pursue, unless I was staying in my room and out of everyone’s way (and even then I had to make sure I jumped up to do what was asked of me if I got called from another room). Eventually I learned, as a survival mechanism, to just obey. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore because I was systematically robbed of my individuality at every turn. Something happened when I was 13 that I will never talk about publicly and she played "good parent who has her kid's back" for about 5 minutes before siding with the bad guy. I brought it up years later and she was mad I'd never gotten over it. And all that is on top of being raised to be a "good little capitalist drone" who needs to be perfect and efficient at all times. I was never supported. I was never given grace. So I never gave grace to myself, because if your own parents don't give you grace & time to learn and be flawed, then clearly you don't deserve any, right?
I finally cut my mother out of my life not long after the pandemic began, a few months after having gone no-contact from my father (mostly due to his casual racism & transphobia, which cost me at least one very close friendship when I was a kid, and was unkind to my child in a way I could not abide). My immediate family - spouse and kid - are the only family I have left now. And it sounds tragic on paper, because it is, but until I finally got away from my mother's voice in real life I couldn't filter through the recordings of her voice in my mind so I could finally throw them away. And that knot is still being untied. Honestly this is 10 years into a very long mental health journey, when you think about it, but I wish I'd cut my mom out of my life a very very long time ago. I wasn't angry about lost time when I got my ADHD diagnosis. I was angry about it when I realized that yes, this had been abuse, and I hadn't been courageous enough to get away from it sooner.
Because that dehumanization resulted in me having no will power of my own, and that extended as far as simply not wanting anything anymore. I like things, sure, but anything I WANTED for myself was out of the question, especially if it involved other people in any way, but honestly even solo pursuits became impossible for me to will myself to do. For right now, when I have something I want to do, I'm telling my friends & husband to order me to do it. Because I won't do it otherwise. And it's a potentially dangerous workaround, but it's all I have for now. I and my therapist are hoping that once my brain registers that what other people are telling me to do is aligned with what I want to do, maybe it won't depend on other people's commands anymore and I'll just take control of my own life for once. But that may not work. I'll have to wait and see.
So what does this have to do with my abandoned fics? Well, it had started to become more difficult to write because the adhd "shinyness" was wearing off anyway, but I'd been doing a good job of pushing past it because people liked what I was writing. I could see my skill getting better, and engagement was going up, and that was really motivating. But then... I stopped writing fic all of a sudden because someone made a post about finding it shitty when writers wrote about COVID in their fics, and.... that was sort of a last straw that broke me, because I do exactly that in the last WA chapter. So I just turned tail and ran away. I tried to push through and write & publish the chapter anyway, because it was the LAST chapter and I knew people were waiting on it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Even having OSBB obligations didn't get me writing again, and given that obligation, the shame I felt about not having finished those stories weighed on me so badly that I couldn't even interact with you guys on Instagram, despite you having been so kind to me in the past. Let's face it, that goes WAY beyond adhd rejection sensitivity, that's a trauma response. I saw one bit of honestly well-reasoned critique of work that wasn't even mine, and I just ran. Immediately I felt like I was no longer allowed to take up space here. I felt unwelcome here in this corner of the internet world, just as I have always felt like I wasn't allowed to take up space in the physical world for almost my ENTIRE life. And the shame I already feel about myself normally was compounded by what I felt was a cowardly thing to do, which prevented me from returning. Now that I've accepted that, yes, I am an abuse victim whose life has been MASSIVELY and MAJORLY affected by that childhood trauma, I'm finally able to address it properly. Over the last few weeks I've been changing the direction of my therapy and my self-talk (reparenting yourself is HARD) and I'm feeling some improvement, but progress isn't linear so my burst of motivation the other night fizzled out, and I'm genuinely sorry for that.
So... yeah, I'm trying to come back and get those fics finished. I'm grateful for any of you willing to be patient with me. Consciously I KNOW I deserve any support willingly given to me by any of you, but I FEEL like I don't. So yeah. Thanks. <3
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cannibal-of-god · 10 months
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it’s extremely bold that people are assuming those in the tin can submersible are still alive.
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constellationcrowned · 9 months
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((It's almost funny that the constellation associated with Flynn is a legitimate death trap when he himself is ensnared. Also the fact that both Kariom and Flynn are ensnared (not to mention slowly but surely being destroyed) by both external and internal forces, most of which (but not all) are far beyond their control.))
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shatteredsnail · 1 year
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am i dying or did i just not get enough iron
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dr3c0mix · 1 year
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hi hii❕️❕️just recebtly started reading your work and I am OBSESSED with Dorik (yknow the demon that reader's friends and them summoned and basically caused their immediate death)
Would you please do a part 2❔️
maybe one where Dorik and the reader settle down in the reader's home❔️ (what if they sleep in the same bed and Dorik curls onto them like a cat❔️Or would he hug the reader close to him❔️、waah❕️so many options❕️)
thank you and have a good day❕️❕️💘
Demon x GN Reader pt. 2
CW: smut, somnophilia, stalker/creep behaviour, dub-con
🔥 Dorik's been with you for about a month since your little meeting. You tried your hardest to get him to leave, rituals you looked up online, holy water, rosaries, salt, everything! He finds a way to worm back into your life.
🔥 Any attempts at kicking him out of your house was met with him waiting outside your windows or doors banging and scratching to be let back inside. "What a funny prank master! You really fooled me! I won't be so gullible next time!" He'd say with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.
🔥 You gave up on trying to get rid of him and accepted that you're stuck with this clingy mess of a demon.
🔥 He calls himself your loyal servant so you supposed it wouldn't hurt to have a little help around the house, considering how busy you've been, you don't have much time to clean up your house.
🔥 He was more than happy to help out! Doing the laundry, cleaning, cooking. "Anything to make my master happy!"
🔥 In return however, he's wants nothing more than your unwavering attention. Even just a light pat on the head or a fleeting compliment sent him over the moon. His tail swishing around frantically as he giggled to himself how good he's been for his master. "Master is pleased with my work! I did good today!"
🔥 Dorik doesn't need to sleep, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to! He'd ask time and time again if he'd be allowed to sleep with you in your bed, maybe even watch you? It's for protection! What if someone tries to hurt you when you're at your most vulnerable! He will not have it!
🔥 Eventually you relented, patting the side of your bed for him to lie down in, he wasted no time to make a mess of your bed, rolling around in your soft sheets and making somewhat of a nest for the two of you. It's fine though, you could ask him to fix it in the morning.
🔥 He'd pull you into a warm cuddle, wrapping his arms around you as if you were a soft teddy bear. "Master feels so soft, soft and cuddly!"
🔥 No matter how much you try to wriggle out of his grasp, he was too strong. He'd only giggle and bury his face in your hair as you squirmed under him.
🔥 If you'd wake up in the middle of the night, you'd be met with either soft purring from Dorik or his black eyes staring at you without blinking.
🔥 Surprisingly, he's a great cook. It took a while for you to trust his cooking as you wouldn't know if he poisoned it or not, but after you started to trust him, you never had to worry about buying food for yourself.
🔥 The weather grew a bit cold, and you started worrying about Dorik only having pants and nothing else, so you offered him one of your sweaters to keep him warm. He dropped the broom he was holding and took the soft clothing from your hands and stared at it.
🔥 Suddenly his eyes started watering. You placed a hand on his shoulder and asked if he was ok. He nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. He sobbed tears of joy onto your shirt, it was unusually warm.
🔥 "Master has never given me a gift before! I shall cherish it forever!"
🔥 He wears it all the time now, bringing the soft fabric to his face once in a while happily.
🔥 Dorik is a bit clueless when it comes to modern culture, he was so surprised when you opened your tv for the first time. "How is this painting moving? You must be a powerful witch if you can make such wonderful magic!"
🔥 You'd bring him to certain places if it had a large number of cosplayers, then he wouldn't be in any danger of getting caught.
nsfw under the cut !!
🔥 He's a bit of a creep too, whenever you're out and he can't follow because you're at college or work, he'd be busy sniffing and drooling over your clothes. He'd take in your sweet scent like a drug, his eyes half-lidded as he grips onto your underwear. he can feel his cock twitch with every intake of your musk.
🔥 The more time he spent with you, the more his admiration and loyalty morphed into something more than that of a servant.
🔥 He started daydreaming about you when you weren't there, fantasizing of him kissing you, burying his cock in you, making you his, covering you with his marks to show how much he loves you.
🔥 He can't help himself! You were just so nice to him, even when he's supposed to serve you, you'd offer him food you'd bring home, you let him sleep with you, you gave him one of your clothes! That must mean you love him back!
🔥 You had a very long shift that day and you came back a little later than expected. You unlocked the door and saw Dorik already smiling widely at you, pulling you into a hug. "Master! You're finally home! I've already run you a bath!"
🔥 You thank him and put down your bags, taking off your coat and shows as you headed to the bathroom.
🔥 Dorik waited from behind the door and could only imagine what you'd look like bare, nothing on but perhaps your undergarments, the ones he's smelled time and time again.
🔥 He scrambled to get out of the way of the door as he heard it unlock and you came out with a towel on. He blushed at your bare shoulders as you disappeared again into the bedroom. He could feel his pants getting tighter as he thought of the two of you in your little nest, fucking and loving on eachother.
🔥 The lock clicked open again and you opened the door to let him in. His eyes widened as he saw what you were wearing, a loose, baggy shirt which revealed one of your shoulders and tight shorts that left little to the imagination. He happily rushes to your side as you sleepily lie down in the mess of blankets and pillows.
🔥 "No reading this time Master?"
🔥 "Yeah...I'm a bit tired, we can read more Dante's Inferno tomorrow..." You yawn as you nuzzle into your blankets.
🔥 The room was dim, and the air was filled with your scent. He couldn't help but feel a romantic atmosphere as you drifted off the sleep.
🔥 His eyes wandered all over your body then suddenly stopped at your ass, he moved a bit closer, rubbing your side, then travelling a bit lower until you started stirring, now lying on your back, your legs now opened. Dorik felt like his head was spinning as he carefully pulled your shorts and underwear down, revealing your sex.
🔥 He licked his lips as he lowered himself to your crotch, his long tongue beginning to lick a stripe up your genatalia.
🔥 You moaned in you sleep as he went deeper, his mouth and tongue how engulfing your sex, exploring every part of your privates with his wet organ.
🔥 Before you could cum, he pulled himself off of you and positioned his hard cock to your entrance.
🔥 He placed his forehead to yours as his dick slowly and carefully slid inside of you, your walls hugging his prick so nicely, he had to stop himself from crying out in pleasure.
🔥 His hips thrust slowly into you before getting faster and more desperate. He held you head next to his chest as he took in the scent of your aroused state.
🔥 Suddenly you wake up to the sensation of Dorik's cock ramming into you as he held you close, you thought it was just a wet dream you were having but the pleasure you were feeling felt very much like reality.
🔥 "D-Dorik!" You moaned, he pulls back a bit to look at you with hearts as his pupils and slurs lovingly; "I'm so sorry master! But you were so cute in bed! So soft, so warm, so good!" he groans as his thrusts get faster.
🔥 You cling onto him, moaning into his ear to go faster, how good it felt, how good he was, all the praise brought him over the edge and he released his load into you, kissing you passionately with his long tongue.
🔥 He pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you and he smiles, falling onto your chest.
🔥 He rolls onto his side and pulls you with him, now cuddling you in bed and massaging your thighs and back.
🔥 "You were amazing master!...So good..." He mutters, clearly drunk from the sex you two shared.
🔥 You giggled and nuzzle into his embrace.
🔥 You suddenly felt the cock in your hole harden once again.
🔥 "Are you ready for round two master?" he looks at you with a smile.
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yes i forgot his tattoos shush i was tired
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imagopersonal · 9 months
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Give me coffee or give me death
I don’t believe in the Coffee Theory per se. I think the whole ‘drugged coffee’ thing is a bit too spy movie to be in Good Omens, but- BUT
The fact that that coffee is in the intro;
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The fact that you can see The Metatron in line, waiting for his turn, BEFORE he gets into the coffee shop, like if he was an out of place detail you were supposed to notice and ask yourself questions about;
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The very long and apparently superfluous dialogue about choosing coffee instead of death, and how “predictable” that is;
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The fact that for two seasons we NEVER see Aziraphale drinking coffee, like that’s not his thing, that’s Crowley’s thing, he’s the “six-espressos-in-a-big-cup” guy, Aziraphale drinks hot chocolate or tea, and we have to assume The Metatron knows that, because he went into that coffee shop and asked for such a specific thing that makes you think that’s something he chose specifically for Aziraphale (who still doesn’t drink coffee, so why?).
He looks reluctant at the idea of drinking it at first
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but he accepts it out of courtesy, I presume, and this is the face he makes when he tries it:
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Even he is surprised he liked it. He’s on Earth since 6000 years, so we can assume he tried coffee before and chose not to drink it. He’s either lying about liking it out of courtesy, or this is the only coffee he’s ever enjoyed, and The Metatron knew he would have liked it and chose that coffee on purpose.
So, the coffee is either important as a physical element, as something that had an actual effect on Aziraphale and changed him somehow, or it’s important in its metaphorical significance. In Good Omens almost everything is metaphorical, so the second option is very likely.
Now, what’s the coffee supposed to represent? The only certain thing we know, is that the coffee is something The Metatron offers Aziraphale, so it probably represents the offer he’s about to make.
Considering the whole “Does anyone ever choose death?” conversation, considering the fact that we don’t know how the conversation between The Metatron and Aziraphale went, we only know the version Aziraphale chooses to tell Crowley, and considering The Metatron is the angel that decided to erase Gabriel’s memory just because he said “nah” about Armageddon 2.0 and Aziraphale is the traitor, the one who stopped the Armageddon 1.0, so The Metatron has no reason to be friendly with him, my question is:
Did Aziraphale actually have a choice?
Or the alternative was worse than leaving Crowley and the bookshop?
Was it actually coffee or death?
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atiny-desire · 27 days
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Glitter and Gold
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Pairing: Yandere Dragon! Seonghwa × Reader Summary: You get sent away as a sacrifice to the dragon, but instead of being met by a fire-breathing dragon, you encounter a handsome man who seems too good to be true. Word count: 2.8k Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent Seonghwa in any way. Warning: Some kind of soulmate bond, yandere behavior, mention of murder.
A/N: Didn't post in a long time because I had literally zero inspiration, and on top of that Ghost from Call of Duty kind of had me in a chokehold (I wish). Anyway, here's a small oneshot and I hope some of you like it. :)
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You could feel it. The burning jealous stares that followed you as you walked through your village, they wanted to puncture your skin, burn it off with just their stare. It was mainly young women who looked at you like that, their beautiful faces were adorned by angry frowns. Normally it would have made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again, but now your chest was swelling with pride your head held high as you felt an odd sensation of satisfaction. You were the chosen one, the one who would be sent to the dragon as an offering. A sacrifice, that's what you are, but it's an honor. Your sacrifice would be the reason why your village would be able to live in peace for another year. It was said that only the most dazzling beauties would be chosen worthy enough to be sent away.
And now the time has come, you were the chosen one. Not those girls who looked down on you throughout all of your life. You're not pretty enough, not smart enough, not charming enough, and most certainly not worthy of anything, not even the same air they breathed. That's what they had always told you. For the longest time, you were their personal punching bag, their outlet for all of their frustration and pressure that was laid upon their shoulders. This was over now.
Your departure was quick and almost anticlimactic, but you didn't mind it. You had no interest in getting emotional with people who had tormented you your entire life, although not everyone did it, everyone knew about it, yet no one did anything to intervene.
The first step outside felt like you had achieved true freedom, even if the sentence of being a sacrifice hung heavy over your head. You had thought about running away, but there was nowhere you could go. Your small village was located in a valley, surrounded by huge snow-capped mountains and vast forests which were the homes of dangerous wildlife. Now, a mountain inhabited by a dragon might not necessarily sound like the safer option, however, you had a reason to go there. It was also the reason why everyone was jealous of you.
It was an old tale, no one really knew if it was true, but everyone believed in it nonetheless. It was said that if you were chosen by the dragon as worthy enough to be kept alive, you'd spend the rest of your life living in wealth. That's why you decided to take your chances with the dragon, rather than just accept your certain death.
The euphoric feeling of being free from those damned people that had been tormenting you your whole life, and the determination of wanting to live a better life, kept the fear that wanted to envelop your heart at bay. No matter how much you might fear walking through the dark forest which never seemed to end, or the thought of what lived inside the mountain you were approaching, you would keep walking because you were desperate for a new life.
Your feeling of hope diminished quicker than you would like. After almost four hours of foot walk you stood in front of the beginning of the mountain trail that would lead toward the cave. The muscles in your thighs were burning as well as your feet, you weren't used to walking this long without a break but you had forced your body through this ordeal, you didn't care how much it hurt. Your heart was in your throat and not just from physical activity, but from anxiety too. Understandably, who wouldn't be afraid of the outlook of meeting a fire-breathing dragon?
As soon as you set foot on that trail it felt like an invisible barrier sucked out all of the energy that was left in your body. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly, ready to give up from underneath you at any given second, but once again, you forced yourself through it.
Faster than you'd like you stood in front of the massive cave. Your mouth was opened in awe as you stopped in your tracks. Mountains of gold coins, gems, and glittery jewelry filled the cave as far as you could see. A small path between the huge piles leads deeper into the cave. Carefully you followed the small path, you were tempted to reach for the jewelry, or the gems that glittered in various colors between the gold coins, but you kept your hands to yourself. If there was truly a dragon living in this cave, it certainly wouldn't be very pleased should you touch any of its treasures.
As you walked deeper into the cave, your anxiety rose within you. Every corner was filled with treasures, there was barely any walking space. You started to doubt the dragon's existence, after all, how could it live with such minimal space?
Steps echoed off of the walls from deeper within the cave, steps that weren't your own. You froze in your tracks, straining your ears to pick up on any more sounds that might follow. Your body refused to move, even when you saw the silhouette of a human coming out of the dark. The sunlight from outside provided minimal lighting, but enough to illuminate the man who stepped in front of you.
You held your breath, you knew immediately that he was different from you. Small patches of red scales covered him in some places instead of skin, but eventually, they merged with his normal skin. The man came to a halt shortly in front of you and stared into your eyes. Unnerved by his stare and the serious look on his face you shifted your weight on your legs and inched a little away from him.
His eyes wandered over your face and down your body, his gaze was analyzing and cold until something suddenly shifted in him and his eyes seemingly softened. Even a small smile stretched on his face. "You can breathe, you don't have to hold it just because of me." He almost had a teasing tone as he spoke to you.
You let out the air you were holding in your lungs. It was as if your body was reacting to his smooth voice because your tense muscles relaxed a little as soon as he spoke to you. "You're not a dragon." You blurted out.
You managed to draw a low chuckle and a headshake from him. "Oh trust me, I am." His hand reached out to grab your chin before you could flinch away he had caught your face between his fingers and forced you to properly look at him. "Beautiful." He mumbled while he turned your head from side to side, so he could examine your face from every angle.
"That's a little too much touching for a first meeting, don't you think?" You mumbled quietly and pulled your head back as you became flustered. While you talked you couldn't look away from him, his eyes were mesmerizing. They were golden, almost seemed like they were glowing, and the color in his irises swirled like liquid gold.
He let go of your face, but not without a dissatisfied grumble. "Is it? But you're a sacrifice to me, are you not? You belong to me now."
His brazenness left you speechless for a short moment, but you didn't need to say anything anyway because he took the word again. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you." He said with a smirk on his lips. However, with how serious he said it, you doubted that he was just messing with you.
"I... what are you?" This question has been burning on your tongue since you first spotted the scales on his body.
"Asking the important questions right from the beginning, hm?" His hand came up to his face to brush away a strand of his black hair that had fallen into his eyes when he leaned closer to inspect your face. "As I said, I'm a dragon. I might not look like one right now, but in my true form I'm indeed a dragon." He motioned down his body and continued, "This human body is just a costume. I learned that it's less intimidating for mortals like you, and honestly, it's way more practical too."
"Do you have a name? How old are you, and how does this whole dragon thing work?" The questions spilled from your mouth like a waterfall once you realized that he wouldn't be a threat, at least for the moment, and your body relaxed.
Another chuckle with his smooth voice reached your ear. "Curious little thing aren't you? You can call me Seonghwa. My age?" He shrugged his shoulders, looked away from you for a second, and fixated his gaze back on you shortly after. "I stopped counting the years, and as for how my nature works, how about we talk about this at a different time? I don't want to overwork your pretty head."
You couldn't help but feel a little offended. He made it seem like you were too stupid to comprehend what he would tell you. "Fine. Where are the other girls that got sent here?"
"Other girls?" He seemed bored just thinking about it, his brows furrowed, he looked like he had to remember what you were talking about. As if there weren't any girls sent to him, every year for multiple centuries. "I killed them." He finally answered.
Your breath got caught in your throat, fear started to claw at your heart once again. So, was this going to be your end? The scaled man in front of you chuckled when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Don't you worry, my precious little gem." Seonghwa's hand reached out again to get a hold of your chin, his thumb brushed over your lips, and his eyes followed his own movement. "You're the one I've been waiting for."
"The one you've been waiting for?" You asked a bit unsure. You didn't know if you had to fear for your life or not.
He nodded. "You're destined to be with me, you, a mere human don't feel it of course." He paused and you almost flinched away when he suddenly put his hand over your chest exactly where your heart was located. "But your heart. It only beats for one purpose, and that is to belong to me. It's beating in a specific rhythm, almost as if it's calling out to me."
You swallowed down your fear, or at least you tried to, and replied to him with a hint of doubt in your voice. "A specific rhythm? Doesn't every heart beat in the same way?"
You could swear that he rolled his eyes a little, but he quickly overplayed it with his charming smile. "You don't get it. As I said, you're just a human." He put his hand under your chin and grabbed you with his thumb and his index finger to tilt your head up. "You're the one I've waited for, everything else is meaningless now. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
"Stop calling me pretty."
"Why? It's the truth after all." Seonghwa leaned closer, getting into your personal space more than before, to the point you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. You panicked a little when he didn't stop crossing the distance between you two, you were sure he would try to kiss you. You were about to pull away when he did something against your expectations.
Instead of kissing you, he pressed his forehead against yours and his hand came up to cup your cheek, you felt his thumb brush over your skin, gently, almost as gently as a feather, it felt like you were just imagining his touch. "Don't worry," he murmured. His breath smelt like the smoke of a forest fire but somehow it wasn't unpleasant. "I waited so long for you, I can also wait until you're ready to fully be with me." The words he spoke were nothing but a mere whisper. "I can wait," He repeated a bit more firmly to make sure that you heard him properly.
He moved his head away from your face and more to the side so he could whisper in your ear. "I'll wait until I can kiss you until I can explore every inch of your body," Seonghwa took a small break, his eyes glinting with mischievous as he added, "Until you're willing to let me claim you, in every possible way."
Seonghwa gently brushed your hair back before his hand landed on the side of your neck with his thumb caressing your cheek. He brought his face closer to yours again, your eyes widened and you were about to pull back however, he was faster than you again because he stopped shortly before his lips would touch yours. You felt his warm breath on your lips, it distracted you to the point you almost missed the words he whispered to you. "My desire to kiss you is overwhelmingly big."
"Don't-," Seonghwa shushed you before you could protest any further. Another chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. "Don't worry, I won't. I told you, didn't I? I will wait until you want me as much as I want you." He distanced himself a bit from you, a lazy half smile tugged at the right corner of his mouth. "But when that time comes I might make you beg for my touch." It seemed like he wanted to make a joke, but you had a feeling that he was dead serious.
With a sigh, he moved away from you, this time he really left your personal space. Seonghwa held his hand out to you, waiting for you to grab it. "You've asked enough questions for now, don't you think? It's time you see where you will live with me." You were too busy staring at him in awe, so you didn't catch the words he muttered under his breath. "For eternity."
The way he stood, with his posture being flawless, as well as his perfect face and the gentle smile on his lips, you could have thought that he was royalty, if it wasn't for the red scales embedded into his skin. Maybe he was royalty, some kind of dragon royalty if it even exists. You thought to yourself as you took his hand.
Together with you, he started to walk deeper into the darker part of the cave. He seemed to navigate in the darkness just fine, while you were stumbling after him like a newborn foal, with just his hand as your guide. Eventually, a small source of light fell into your eyes, and as you walked closer you realized that the light were torches attached to the cave walls. Seonghwa stopped in front of two ridiculously big oak wood doors. You and to crane your neck to be able to see where they ended.
How would those doors even open? "How-" And again, Seonghwa didn't let you finish your sentence. He let go of your hand walked up to the door, and pushed one of them open with ease. "I might have a human body right now, but I still have the strength of a Dragon. Now come." He nodded toward the inside, silently telling you to go in.
Those huge doors made you a little nervous, inside your head, you were imagining what would happen if the door suddenly closed while you were walking through it. Swiftly you scurried inside and Seonghwa followed with a smile. A loud noise echoed through the room as the door fell closed behind him. You were surprised to see a fully furnished living room. Everything was illuminated by torches attached to the wall, allowing you to see the extravagant furniture.
"You like it?" Seonghwa quietly asked you close to your ear.
You only gave him a small nod as you continued to look around the room. There were more cave tunnels, leading away from the living room probably to more living space, such as a bedroom. "I'm glad. You'll be spending a lot of time here." He was still close to your ear and whispered to you while he stood behind you.
While you looked around your gaze traveled to the, now closed, oak doors. You didn't think about it at the time, but you were trapped now. There was no way you would ever be able to push these doors open on your own. Your breath hitched when Seonghwa suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his body. "A lot of time." He growled into your ear. In this moment you realized that it wasn't just something he said without real meaning. It was a promise and a threat at the same time. However, you realized it too late, you were already in the claws of this dragon and he sure as hell would never be willing to ever let you go again.
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