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vent-stink · 2 days

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When Seonghwa got mad at y/n

a/n: I'm sorry I've been neglecting you all! Here's my apology angst c/w: angst, hurt/comfort pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader, cat hybrid!san x reader w/c: 1.6k

Y/n didn't realize Seonghwa was in a bad mood.

At this point, even though she felt bad, it was routine of him to break up with partners because they didn't like her. He'd come home sad, and y/n would cuddle his sorrows away.

This time was different.

This time, Seonghwa came home with a sad aura, but clenched fists. No, he was frustrated, so frustrated. Why were people so closed minded? Hybrids have been a part of society for so long and even if not everyone cares for their hybrids the same way, the extent of his care had been normalized enough by now, he thought. Yet he hadn't met anyone who could accept it.

Y/n wasn't his girlfriend; he didn't want her to be nor did she want to be. He loves her and takes care of her. Sure, hybrids could be in relationships with their owners or with other people, but that just wasn't their relationship. Why was that so hard to understand?

He wasn't mad at y/n, he could never truly be mad at y/n, but in that moment he was just so frustrated. It was moment of weakness, but he seriously resented her, if only for a minute.

But it was in that minute that she crawled over to him, unapologetic smile adorning her face (because she had nothing to feel bad for, he had made sure to reassure her every time before), as she asked for his attention, hands pawing at his trousers.

"Stop it. Move, y/n." His voice was stern and cold and she felt her hair stand on end. "Daddy? Are you okay-?"

Hearing her voice, her sultry, sweet, beautiful voice, he snapped, "GET OFF, Y/N. GET OFF." She flinched away from him, looking at him a little scared, "D-daddy‐?" "I'M SO TIRED OF THIS, Y/N. YOU'RE ALWAYS- YOU'RE ALWAYS THERE. YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He was yelling, really yelling. No one had ever spoken to y/n like that before, especially not Seonghwa. Sure, he'd scolded her, but he'd never so much as punished her let alone raised his voice like this.

She trembled as he yelled at her, curled up into a ball as she was frozen in fear, waiting for him to finish. "It's like ever since I adopted you, I haven't been able to think of anything but you. I can't be selfish. I can't enjoy myself or be loved for a single fucking second-"

"HYUNG!" San yelled, coming down to hug y/n and shield her from Seonghwa. She was shaking, tears running down her face as she whimpered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Honestly, Seonghwa had yelled at San like this before, and Y/n was spoiled so he initially had been enjoying her get a little scared. It was only natural for a harsher scolding at least once or twice... but this felt too harsh. San stopped feeling smug very quickly as he came down to comfort their princess.

San's presence snapped Seonghwa out of his rage, allowing him to actually see how y/n was reacting to his anger. He broke his own heart knowing that he made her look like this, trembling with tears falling down her face, terrified noises leaving her. Oh my god, what was I thinking?

"Y/n, I-" he reached out to her but she wailed, running to San's room and slamming the door shut behind her and burying herself in his sheets.

Seonghwa watched her run and then looked at San helplessly, only to be met with San's angry hiss as the feline followed after his mate to cuddle her as she cried.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Seonghwa could still feel his emotions hot in his blood, so he sighed, sitting on his recliner as he waited for his heart to settle.

He didn't realize how badly he had fucked up until he'd gone back to his room. Y/n hadn't come to sleep. She'd always always slept with him in his bed at night. She'd never been able to sleep at night without her owner.

Yet, right now, as he laid awake, waiting for her to crawl into his arms and tuck herself under his chin, it was almost 1am, and his arms were empty.

He hadn't realized how used to her he'd gotten. He felt cold, even with his blanket tucked up to his chin, body crunched into a ball, he felt like his body was trembling. Now he couldn't sleep without her.

Obviously, he couldn't stand to be like this. He got out of his bed and went to San's room, knocking lightly on the door. He thought y/n might be awake. He thought there'd be no way that she could sleep without him.

But there was no answer. "Y/n?" he called softly. Nothing. "San?" A grunt.

Seonghwa opened the door a peek and first saw San's piercing glare. It wasn't the first time he'd been on the receiving end of it, San got pissy with him all the time, but this was the first time it was over someone else. The next thing he saw was his little kitten wrapped in his big kitten's arms, head tucked into his chest as her chest raised and fell in a steady rhythm.

She was asleep.

"She cried until she was so exhausted she couldn't stay awake anymore," San said quietly to not wake her up. Seonghwa felt his heart lurch harder than it ever had before. "I'm not giving her to you, if that's what you're here for."

"No... I don't want to wake her," Seonghwa whispered, "I just can't... I couldn't sleep." San didn't reply. He wasn't in the mood to give Seonghwa consoling words. He'd used them all on y/n already.

Both of his hybrids were upset at him, rightfully so. He sighed, sitting in San's chair that faced the bed. San eyed him before letting out a sigh and cuddling farther into y/n to sleep.

Seonghwa just watched them until he felt his eyes droop and sleep overtook him.

He woke up to a sniffle. It started him awake. The first heartbreaking thing he saw was y/n's face scrunched up in a sob, fresh tears falling down her face.

"Y/n-ah," he croaked, not even letting himself fully wake up before he was on his knees in front of her, "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean it! I..."

"I- I'm sorry... I made daddy's life so hard. You haven't been able to be happy since I'm here-" "NO!" he exclaimed loudly, making San jolt awake, but the big cat went ignored, "I didn't mean it. Daddy was just upset. I was just sad, I didn't mean to say those things. I didn't mean a single word."

She didn't believe him and Seonghwa could tell as she covered her face, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry they don't like me. You never should have brought me here. I'm so terrible."

"Y/nnie, please," he choked, "I'm so sorry baby. I was feeling sad because my partner left me... but I don't need anyone. I only need you and Sannie, my love. I- Everyday, you make me feel so loved, more loved than I have ever felt from even my own mother..."

Y/n sniffed, looking at him properly, but wearily.

"I didn't mean a single thing I said. It was all in anger. Like- like when Sannie says he's mad at you and won't share his clothes, but he still shares them anyway...," he reasoned desperately.

"You should send me away...," she cried quietly. Seonghwa finally broke completely, letting out a sob, bowing his face to the ground, "You are my most important girl in the world, y/n-ah." His voice was cracking and his pain was agonizing, extremely evident from his voice, "No one loves me more than you, and I can't live without you. I can't sleep without you in my arms. Even if you wanted to leave me, I am the one that's selfish. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. I want you to get so mad at me for yelling at you. I'll make it up to you forever. I'll buy you so many gifts and treats. I just- I need you to know that I love you so much."

She sniffed, getting out of the bed to kneel in front of him as well. When he heard her change positions, Seonghwa looked up to see her looking at him with teary eyes. A wail escaped her throat as she slipped herself into his arms, sobbing into the fabric of his t-shirt.

His arms wrapped around her so tight she would have suffocated if she was thinking about it. He wasn't loud, but his tears slipped down his face and onto her hair, "No one matters to me more than you. You're my baby. My sweet, y/nnie. I'm sorry, I got upset, but I won't do it again." "I th-thought you d-didn-n't want m-me, any-nymore!" she hiccupped between sobs.

"No my princess. Even if I'm only with you for the rest of my life and everyone else leaves, I'll be happy." San wanted to protest, but he didn't because he was too tired and because he knew y/n needed reassurance more than he needed to reaffirm his existence in the house. She was soft. He'd live.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she whimpered. Seonghwa pulled away to cup her face and press soft kisses all over her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I meant it when I told you that you and San are a part of me. No one is more important than us. We're a family, okay? You're my family."

Y/n sniffed and hugged him so tight, nodding into his chest. "You promise?" "Mhmm," Seonghwa hummed, "I'll never let you think otherwise again. Even if daddy gets mad at you again, I promise I will never make you think for a second that you belong anywhere else, but here with me."

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tizeline · 1 day

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My submission for the second round of the @tmntfashioncompetition

April and Casey in traditional swedish clothes!!! There's not gonna be a huge focus on romance in the TSAU story, but I am Very Fond of rottmnt Capril so I wanna find some way to at least kinda sorta a little bit incorperate that ship into story eventually :] In the meantime, ya'll are getting this

And ya'll. YA'LL. You guys have no idea how long I struggled with this prompt cuz MAN! I decided immedietly that I wanted to either draw traditional japanese clothes (because duh) or traditional swedish clothes, the only problem is that then I couldn't decide which one out of those two options to pick. So I decided to sketch concepts for both and then pick whichever I liked more, and after a lot of agonizing I decided to pick the sketch with the japanese outfits. But after I finished that drawing, I decided I wanted to finish the drawing with the swedish outfits and UH OH suddenly I was back to not being able to pick which one I liked more!! SQUARE ONE BITCH.

I finally decided to pick the traditional swedish clothes for my submission and there were two main reasons for that. Number one, the art with the japanese clothes includes Donnie and I'm planning to draw him for the next round of the competition, so for the sake of variation I picked this drawing instead. Number two.... listen man, everyone is drawing japanese clothes, and again, DUH, of course, but also again, for the sake of variation I thought it'd be more fun to get some other type of clothes included, so here we are!

I'm still gonna post the other drawing, considering I don't just wanna let an entire finished artpiece go to waste, but I'm gonna wait with it until this round is over.

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ashwhowrites · 2 days

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Hey, buggy 💜💜

I was thinking about a story where Eddie and reader have a frenemies type of relationship where they both make life hell for each over. But then something bad happens (shit date, argument with parents, bad grade, whatever) and Eddie immediately helps them.

Thank you, sweets 💋

Anything for you. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻 Eddie and reader are platonic. All pronouns should be they/them 🤞🏻

Frenemies

Y/N and Eddie had a weird friendship if they would call it that. It was more of a frenemy relationship. They enjoyed making each other's life hell. Eddie teased them for what they wore, how they presented themselves, and their taste in guys. Y/N loved to poke fun at Eddie. About his band, his grades, and that he wasn't going anywhere in life.

It was hard to tell if they hated each other, or if it was just a game.

~~~

"How do you expect anyone to date you when you eat like that?" Y/N scoffed as they walked by Eddie's table. He was munching down on a burger, ketchup all down his hands and smeared around his lips.

"Don't worry about it," he snapped back with a mouthful. His eyes were not even on them as they continued to walk by.

Y/N gasped as they felt cold water smack their back. They turned around from their locker and saw Eddie laughing his ass off. He laughed so hard, that he was hunched over and clenching his stomach.

"YOU ARE AN ASS!" Y/N screamed as they started walking towards Eddie. But Eddie ran and they were hot on his heels.

"AT LEAST I DON'T LOOK LIKE ONE!" he yelled behind him.

"YOU ARE SO CHILDISH!" They screamed.

"That is correct!" the teacher said as Y/N finished solving the problem on the board. They smiled as they walked back to their seat.

"NERD!" Eddie yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth

"Shut up, dumbass." They snapped back

Eddie rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out

"Oh so mature," they said as they rolled their eyes in return

~~~

They were enemies more than friends. And where does the actual friendship come in? Well, when Y/N needed it most.

Y/N was exhausted after the tiring night they had. They spent most of the night sobbing in their bed, which was noticeable from their red and puffy eyes.

"Jeez, you look like shit," Eddie said as he leaned against a locker. Y/N sighed as they shut theirs

"Not in the mood today,"

"Need to talk about it?" Eddie asked, his head turned to the side

"With you? No thanks," they scoffed, they began to walk away but Eddie grabbed their arm

"I'm serious. I won't make fun of you or anything." Eddie promised.

Y/N sighed but nodded

"You know that guy Travis?" They said, Eddie looked confused but nodded

"He and I were supposed to go on a date and he stood me up. And I don't need your comments today, alright?" Y/N explained. They blinked away their tears as they kept their head high.

"I understand, and look he's an idiot. Don't let him have that much power over you. I know we hate each other, but you are one of the greatest people I've ever met. His loss" Eddie said and for once, his voice was sweet.

"Thank you, Eddie. I didn't know you had nice things to say or smart things." They teased with a playful smile

Eddie rolled his eyes and shoved their arm.

"Haha," he faked a laugh but felt better when they cracked another smile.

"What did you see in him anyway?"

"Don't start"

"FIGHT!"

Y/N, as well as the entire school, raced out of the cafeteria. They raced to the hallway as a crowd formed. Y/N didn't care who was in it, at least they thought that until they saw Eddie in the middle of it.

Y/N was shocked as they saw Eddie and Travis toe to toe. There must have been an argument beforehand because, by the time Y/N made it, it all went physical.

Within seconds Eddie ran Travis into the lockers, then down to the floor. Eddie was on top as Travis fought to get him off. Both boys were rolling on the ground, cursing at each other.

Teachers came running in, but neither boy cared.

They got ripped apart, both trying to escape the arms that held them back.

"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?" The principle screamed

"ASK HIM! THE FREAK ATTACKED ME!" Travis screamed, his eyes sharp as they stared at Eddie

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR TREATING Y/N LIKE SHIT!"

Y/N was shocked that he even cared about them. But the thought made them smile. Maybe Eddie could be a friend.

"OFFICE NOW!"

Y/N walked as both boys were dragged to the office. Travis had a bloody lip and Eddie's eye was half shut. It seemed both got many hits in.

Eddie turned his head, looking over his shoulder. He smiled and gave a thumbs-up. Y/N couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you," they mouthed

Eddie nodded in return, then looked forward as he walked.

Maybe a part of Eddie did care about them. Not that he'd say it.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie Munson fluff x gn! reader #ashwhowrites

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maidragoste · 23 hours

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Chapter Three: He ruined it

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One Chapter Two

A/N: I'm happy to bring you a new chapter of this series, sorry for the delay in publishing and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. Thank you for reading 🥰🥰💖💖

My inbox is open so I’m always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions 🤭💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes

The elevator ride takes less than a minute since the training rooms are below the floor of your floor, but Jacaerys could still feel the tension in the air. He doesn't know if it's because you're nervous like him about seeing who they'll have to face in a few days or if, like him, you're upset because Larys told you two to spend all your time in public close to each other. Jace doesn't understand the reason behind his uncle's instructions, first, he made you two hold hands at the parade and now it seemed as if he wanted you to become friends while training. Jace doesn't like this, he doesn't want to get attached to you. That would only make things more difficult in the arena, but when he complained his uncle reminded him that he had already promised that he would do whatever he told him. He had to do it if he wanted to return home to Lucerys and Joffrey.

When they both get out of the elevator they find a giant gym full of weapons and obstacle courses. It's not even ten o'clock, yet you two are the last to arrive. The rest of the tributes are gathered in a tense circle, each one has a piece of cloth attached to their shirt with the number of their respective district. While they give his number, Jacaerys in a quick assessment realizes that you two are the only ones who are dressed alike. Was it another way to appear like a united front to others?

Once you and Jacaerys join the circle the head trainer steps forward and introduces herself as Atala and then begins to explain the training schedule, how each position has an expert in the skill in question, that some positions teach tactics survival and other fighting techniques. She also warns that it is prohibited to perform combat exercises with another tribute and that if someone wants to practice with a partner, there are assistants.

“We don't have to be together all the time if you don't want to,” you whispered to him, once Atala finished reading the list of skills and gave them the freedom to start training.

“But Larys said”

“Larys isn't here,” you interrupted, making him frown. “He's not going to know if we don't follow what he tells us one hundred percent.”

“If you don't want to train with me just say it” he snapped, feeling annoyed although it made no sense because he should be happy that you don't want to train with him either after all Jacaerys wanted to avoid spending as much time with you as possible.

“I'm not the one who complained at breakfast,” you reminded him, making him blush and feel ashamed of himself for his attitude. If he weren't so impulsive he would have at least waited for you to go to your room before complaining to his uncle.

“I'm sorry about that,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay,” you shrugged, downplaying it, but even so, your district partner still felt like a fool because of his attitude. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let's tie some knots,” Jacaerys responded, thinking that his uncle had said not to attract attention so he was forbidden to take a bow at least until the private session with the gamemakers. Besides, Jace had no desire to be around the professional tributes, who had gone straight to the weapons that looked more deadly and handled them without difficulty, nor the trembling tributes who received their first class of knives or axes.

The stall is empty so the coach seems excited when the two approach. When he realizes that Jacaerys knows something about traps, he teaches them how to make a simple trap that would leave another tribute hanging from a tree by their leg. They practice for an hour until they both master the technique well and then move on to the camouflage station. Jacaerys notices that you seem more excited in this position as you mix mud, clay, and berry juice on your skin. It also seems easy for you to braid costumes out of vines and leaves. The coach for this position is excited about your work.

"I make the cakes" you blurt out of nowhere.

"The cakes?" He had been concentrating on watching Royce Baratheon swing a mace directly into the chest of a mannequin.

"Those from the bakery. I make the decorations"

Jacaerys remembers those cakes, which are on display in the shop window, with flowers and other pretty designs on the icing. Before he went to live with Uncle Larys he was never able to eat one of those but since they lived with him there was always cake for special occasions like birthdays and New Year's. Every time they went to buy the cake Joffrey and Lucerys always argued about which one looked the best before choosing which one to take. If he came home he didn't think he would be able to accompany them back to the bakery. He couldn't see your father and brothers in the face again. Nor could he see the disappointment in his brothers' eyes when they saw that the cakes were no longer as pretty as before.

"They're cute, but you won't be able to glaze someone to death," he hadn't meant to sound so scathing but thinking about your death, your family, and his siblings put him in a bad mood.

"You never know what might be in the arena what if…?"

"Let's continue with another position" he interrupts you, he wasn't in the mood for some joke.

"Okay, go ahead with whatever you want, I'll stay here a little longer. I'll catch up with you later" you responded.

The smile on your face had disappeared and Jacaerys felt a tightness in his stomach but he decided to ignore it, he just nodded and went to the fire-making station. He is so focused on the coach's instructions and getting the technique right that he doesn't even realize that he has spent so much time there until they announce that it is time for lunch. Jacaerys looks at you with the idea of telling you to have lunch together. He frowns when he sees that you are no longer alone but are talking to Jason Mallister, the thirteen-year-old boy from District 4. What were you doing? Larys said not to attract attention and you found yourself talking to one of the professional tributes, of course, that would attract attention.

Annoyed, Jacaerys went to the carts that had been brought with food and began to serve himself and then sat alone at one of the tables. Professional tributes gathered around a table. They were loud, unlike the rest they seemed carefree, as if they were not afraid.

A few minutes later you sit next to him. Jacaerys can't hold his curiosity for long so he asks you.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“Stop frowning, we're supposed to be friends,” you scold him in a whisper and he struggles to put on a friendlier face. “He reminds me of Joffrey,” you admit.

“My brother is nothing like him,” the brunette denies instantly. He wouldn't tell you but when you two saw the District 4 reaping he also thought about his brother when Jason appeared on screen. But he couldn't allow himself to see his brother in one of his opponents, that would only hurt him in the arena, so he instantly forced himself to push that thought away from him. The only thing in common between the two of them was that they are both thirteen years old, he just repeated to himself.

"I just showed Jason how I made my camouflage and I remembered when I tried to teach Joffrey how to frost a cookie." Jace must have made some funny face in his surprise because you were smiling again. "He made a mess, I don't know how he ended up with frosting on his hair and face, the only reason my mother didn't get mad is because Joffrey bought the cookies he ruined. If you ask me, he didn't ruin them, he just took artistic liberties" You said the last thing as if you were telling him a big secret, leaning towards him and putting your hand a few centimeters from your face, hiding it from the other tributes, as if you didn't want to they will try to read your lips. At your antics and the image of his younger brother covered in icing, Jacaerys can't help but laugh.

"I didn't know Joffrey spent so much time at the bakery."

"And with you", he added in his head. He couldn't help but wonder why his brother never told him. Although he shouldn't be surprised because at home there is always some bread or cookie from the bakery, but he always thought that the one who was going to buy it was Uncle Larys. He might have missed some things by spending so much time in the forest and the Hob with Baela.

"Your brother is addicted to sugar so he usually comes often after school to buy something. He says he deserves a treat after spending hours locked up in hell."

Jacaerys notices the affection with which you speak of his brother and he can't help but feel warm. He has the feeling that you have even more stories to tell about his brothers and he wants to hear them all.

"Yeah, that sounds like Joffrey," he agrees with a smile.

During the rest of the days of training, Jacaerys feels a whole mix of emotions fighting within him. You two continue training together in some positions such as setting up shelters, recognizing edible plants, and throwing knives and spears, but at some point, you always end up separated by your decision because you want to train with a partner so you look for one of the assistants. In those moments Jace can't help but distrust you because for a while he sees you fighting with the assistant but then the next time he sees you you are in the same section as the professionals, he never sees you talking to one of them but he still can't avoid feeling restless. On the other hand, he can't continue denying that something is forming between the two of you; it's impossible not to form a kind of friendship after sharing so many anecdotes during lunch. At first, you were the one who did most of the talking, telling him more about Joffrey's visits to the bakery, but then Jace wants to know about you and starts asking you more about you and your brothers. And before he least realizes it, he is also sharing his own stories. He tells you how Uncle Larys once made them believe his house was haunted only to make them stop wandering around at night because they wouldn't let him sleep. You laugh when he tells you how he once challenged a bear to fight in the woods to keep a beehive and how his father had never scolded him so much.

On the second day of training before you go to train with an assistant you whisper to Jacaerys that he has a shadow. When he turns to see Rue, the little girl from District 11 spying on them, you encourage him to talk to her but Jace refuses because he has no idea what to say to her and also because he is afraid of meeting her and she will remind him of his brothers or Baela's little sisters.

When the private sessions arrive with the gamemakers it is evident that both you and Jacaerys are nervous because neither of you tries to have a conversation while waiting your turn or even when the two of you are alone after Rue enters.

"Good luck," Jacaerys wishes you as he stands up when he is called. He couldn't tell you later because once a tribute finishes the session he has to go to his apartment "Try throwing the weights, impress them."

"Thank you" It is evident that you were not expecting his words because you keep looking at him impressed "Lucky for you too. Remember to shoot well" you smile at him.

He nods and starts walking towards the door.

He ruined it. What the hell was he thinking? No, he didn't think about it. He just let his anger get the best of him, he was outraged that the guards had stopped paying attention to him after he missed his first shot, he was furious that he could die within a few days and they wouldn't deign to watch his entire performance, so he took the arrow and shot at the gamemakers' table. Of course, he didn't shoot any of them, his arrow hit right where he wanted it, in the apple that the pig had in its mouth. When all eyes were on him he sarcastically thanked them for their time while bowing. He didn't wait to be fired, he stormed out of the training room still feeling his blood boil. Only when he was alone in the elevator did he feel the weight of what he did, he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest and his throat was burning. He ruined it. He hadn't tried to kill any of the gamemakers but maybe someone would think that. He was sure he must be the first tribute to do something like that. He lost any chance he had of winning the games. But what scares him the most is that because of his attitude, they will now punish his brothers. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them because of him.

When the elevator doors opened, tears had already begun to roll down Jacaerys's cheeks. He ignored the questions from Effie, who was waiting for him in the hallway, and locked himself straight into his room. It didn't take long for knocks to sound on his door and the woman's voice asking him to come out but he didn't move from the bed. When silence came he thought that he had finally given up and they would leave him alone. But minutes later he heard the cold voice of his uncle:

"Jacaerys, open the door. Stop acting like a child."

Jacaerys was about to ignore him but then he realized that the only one who could help him protect his brothers was his uncle. So he took courage and got out of his pile of blankets. He unlatched the door and nervously opened the door. For a moment he thought he saw something different in his uncle's eyes. He couldn't figure out exactly what but that only made him more nervous. Without saying anything he went to sit on the edge of the bed while he watched Larys enter and close the door again. Surprising him, did his uncle think that he would try to escape in the middle of the conversation?

Larys took the chair that was at the desk placed it in front of the bed and then sat down.

"I ruined it," said Jacaerys, his voice breaking when he saw that his uncle did not seem willing to start the conversation. "They are going to punish Luke and Joff because of me." The teenager's desperation was clear by how he tugged at his curls as he spoke."You have to do something, uncle, please. It's my fault, let them punish me."

"What did you do?" the victor demanded to know.

Then Jace told him everything, how the gamemakers were drunk and how after he missed his first shot they stopped paying attention to him, missing the circuit he made and how he hit the center in the rest of his shots, that he didn't think about his actions, that he got carried away with anger and shot at the apple that was in the mouth of the pig that the gamemakers were about to eat, gaining their attention again and how he left the training room without waiting to be fired but not before thanking them sarcastically for their attention. As Jacaerys continued speaking Larys's hand turned white from the strength with which he gripped his staff.

"I told you that you won't attract attention" his uncle's biting tone only made Jacaerys' discomfort increase and he couldn't help but take one of the blankets again and wrap himself in it. It's not like he expected Larys to comfort him but he also shouldn't have been surprised that the first thing he did was scold him. "But you can rest assured, they're not going to punish your brothers." There was that strange look in his eyes again.

"Are you sure?" The uncertainty in his voice was clear, he wanted to trust his uncle but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that Larys would tell him any lie as long as he kept concentrating on the games.

"If they are going to punish Lucerys and Joffrey, they would have to tell what you did in the entertainment center so that it has some effect on the districts, but they won't because it's secret," Larys explained with a little more patience. "The only one you hurt with your actions it's you"

Upon hearing that nothing would happen to his brothers, Jacaerys felt that part of his discomfort disappeared. He still had to worry because surely the gamemakers would now make his life miserable in the arena but at least he knew that his brothers would be safe.

"I know, the gamemakers will make my life miserable in the arena" he stated "And today they will give me the worst score so I won't have any sponsors" he sighed thinking that now it would be even more difficult for him to survive in the arena without sponsors, the food wouldn't be a big problem because he knew how to hunt but if he got hurt then he would need medicine.

"Don't worry about the sponsors, I'll take care of that," Larys promises and this time Jacaerys doesn't doubt his uncle because he looks too confident. "Well, it's done, it's not something we can change. Stop getting depressed and let's go have dinner before they give the scores."

During dinner, Jace barely joins the conversation and feels your worried gaze the entire time. It seems that Effy told you about the state he arrived in after his private session.

In the middle of dinner, Effy can't stand his curiosity anymore so he asks them both how it went. Jacaerys wasn't going to say anything until he heard you speak.

"I don't think I impressed them, some paid attention to me but others were more focused on whatever was on the table," you said resignedly.

"It's my fault. I'm sorry" he apologized, feeling guilty because apparently he had also harmed your private session.

"How is it your fault?" Cinna asked curiously.

"I shot them an arrow," Jace replied.

At first, he ignored Effy's indignation and the rest of the team's questions, focusing more on your reaction. You still looked at him with concern. He was relieved to not see you angry. The truth is, he couldn't blame you if you got angry with him after all his act had attracted the attention of the gamemakers when it was essential for you to have a better score.

"I actually shot an arrow at the pig's apple they were about to eat. They were drunk and I got angry because they weren't paying attention to me."

"And what did they tell you?" You asked anxiously and looked at the doors as if you were expecting that at any moment the peace officers would come in to look for him.

"I don't know. I left"

"Did you leave without permission?" Effie asked to see if she understood correctly.

"I gave it to myself" Jace replied and a laugh escaped your mouth, you quickly stifled it with your hand before Effie's gaze. Jacaerys was pleased to see the worry disappear from your face.

"Larys, aren't you going to say anything about it?" Effie questioned evidently expecting the victor to side with her and scold them.

"It's done, Effie. There's nothing we can do," he responded boredly as he buttered a piece of bread.

"What was their face?" you asked, looking at him curiously.

"They seemed terrified. A man stumbled backward and fell into a punch bowl." At the time Jacaerys had been so angry that he couldn't enjoy the watchman making a fool of himself but now he remembered it with fun.

Everyone laughed, except for Effie but she seemed to hold back a smile so Jace didn't take it the wrong way.

“Oh, I would have loved to see that,” you said with a smile. If Jacaerys hadn't been so focused on you then he would have noticed that his uncle seemed to be studying the two of you.

Once everyone finishes dinner they go to sit in the living room to watch the scores announced on television. How every year a photo of the tribute appears while Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith announce the score. What is striking with the group of professionals is that this year not everyone has a score between eight and ten like previous years, but the boy from District 4 gets a seven. The same score that Rue gets, Jace can't help but wonder how she managed to get that score. But any thoughts of the little girl from District 11 disappear and are replaced by euphoria when he hears Caesar announce his score. An eleven.

Applause and congratulations filled the room. Jacaerys smiles until he realizes that his uncle is quiet and doesn't look as excited as the rest about his eleven. He starts to feel the anxiety in his body and he wants to ask his uncle what the problem is but he doesn't want to have this conversation in front of everyone.

“Good” is the only thing Larys says after they also announce your eight. And Jace feels stupid for worrying so much, surely his uncle didn't say anything before because he was still hanging on to your score after all he wasn't the only tribute Larys had in charge. “You should go to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow” he ordered them while motioning to the avox to bring him more wine.

You and Jacaerys say goodbye to the entire team and head toward the hallway where your rooms are.

“Tell me, what does it feel like to break the bad streak of twelve and go down in history?” you said while leaning on your door.

“You're exaggerating,” Jace said, trying to sound exasperated by rolling his eyes, but there was no annoyance in his tone.

“I'm not,” you shook your head, smiling. You just beat the score of the professionals, I think it's impressive” you said while crossing your arms. “Surely the entire Capitol is talking about you and you are going to monopolize all my sponsors.”

Your last words brought Jace back to his senses. You two were in a competition and his live were at stake. He couldn't keep joking with you. He should be focused on making a good impression on Caesar and the people at the Capitol tomorrow.

“We should go to sleep,” he said abruptly, resting his hand on the handle of his door, trying not to feel guilty as he saw how the spark in your eyes seemed to go out at his tone. “Have a good night,” he didn’t even wait for you to respond before walking into his room and closing the door. His father would be disappointed in his treatment of you.

@bogbutteronmycroissant @nowjillsandwich @qualitytimetravelruins @clairepotter @slutkoo @trashmouthsahra @nessjo @jacesvelaryons

a/n: I'm grieving because I had to delete the scene I had with Larys and Sea Dragon bc if I left it, then there were going to be things in Cathing Fire that didn't make sense 😫

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as I always say the comments and reblogs are very appreciated 🥰

thg taglist: @agqrtz @cookielovesbook-akie @klara-lily @husherstan @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @hanversace @xmagik @crazylokonugget @Illzarr @faesspace @lolabelle14 @wa801 @allyium @woodandwaxwings @multiversemayhemme @justanotherkpopstanlol @roseazura @matthiashelvarswaffles

If you want to be part of my taglist

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 3 days

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A ramble on imposter syndrome and the accessibility of witchcraft

So, I’ve been thinking. I think a lot in case you haven’t noticed. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about the major imposter syndrome I’ve been feeling lately in regards to this blog. TL;DR is at the bottom of this post.

People have been, occasionally, sending me asks requesting my opinion on things/how I do things/what I know about XYZ topic. If you are one of these people, I promise I’m not vagueposting about you in particular- in fact, I love these questions! They’re so fun to get and they actually make me sit and think sometimes, or even encourage me to write out something that I’ve been meaning to for my book of shadows. Genuinely, they're wonderful asks to receive. These questions have made me confront something, however; my blog is still small, but some people actually like what I write and value my opinion even if just a little.

I feel like a mimic hiding in the witchcraft community. I feel like, were people to truly understand my experiences, they would want to “expose” me for knowing so little.

So I sat down with those feelings and turned it over in my head and I’ve come to a conclusion. The fact is, I don’t do research. At least- not what I think of when people talk about research. My "research" consists of the occasional rabbit hole I go down, one and two halves of different books I never finished under my belt, what I see scrolling through various social medias, and conversations I've had with other witches. I check to make sure I'm not stepping on the toes of any closed practices- in fact, that's what most of my energy goes to when it comes to research. This isn't a complaint; I'd much rather know that my craft isn't appropriative.

But I don’t know much about mythology, even that of the deities I work with. I don't even remember the holidays and what they're for. I thought Nyx was an Egyptian deity until like four months ago because I'd just heard her name in passing as a child and had never looked into the mythology... Even though I mainly work with the pantheon she belongs to. Y’all, I’ve done like three spells that I remember. My book of shadows is a messy disaster and I love it but it's got so little information in it, because I rarely write things down. Most resources (especially mythology resources) are academically worded or difficult to read for me personally, and all of these things feel like secrets I have to guard with my life because if I were to ever say them aloud, people would know I'm a fraud.

Today I've come to the conclusion that that is, in fact, absolute bullshit.

Maybe it's not, maybe this post will make some people really upset, but in my practice it's bullshit. All of the above is a result of my ADHD and the fact that I am nothing if not a hands-on learner. My craft is mostly my own experiences because that's how my whole life is; I learn by doing. My ideal learning style is sitting with another autistic person whose special interest is whatever I'm learning about and just talking for five hours, but if that's not something I can do, puzzling it out myself is the next best thing. That's what I've been doing ever since I felt had a basic foundation for my craft. Hell, even before I had a foundation I was putting my own experiences into my craft because "Well that rule just doesn't fucking vibe with me."

This post is mostly for me, but partially for anyone who feels similar. We are not broken or doing witchcraft/paganism wrong. We are simply what happens when the kid who could never do homework ends up practicing the "religion/spirituality that comes with homework." Witchcraft and paganism, in my experience, is far from accessible when it comes to the typical image of it. UPG is what makes it accessible. So yes, my practice is heavily UPG, and I don't do as much research as I think people have assumed. But I'm going to let go of the idea that I'm a fraud, because frankly I know enough about witchcraft to have supported my practice this whole time and my deities haven't smited me yet so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TL:DR:

Fuck the rules, I don't do much research. I've researched the "basics" and what I need to so I'm not stepping on any toes of closed practices, but people seem to think I know way more than I actually do. I've felt like I was lying this whole time but frankly witchcraft just isn't accessible to someone with my flavor of auDHD, so my craft relies heavily on UPG and I've decided that I'm not broken or wrong for that and neither is anyone else. I'm tired of seeing myself as an imposter just because I make my practice doable for me.

#I feel weird about posting this but Loki seems thrilled #of course he is though #“fuck the rules” energy is their whole deal #Frog's writing #shit did I use caps in my previous posts?#Frog's Writing #frog's writing #there we go now it doesn't matter lol #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan witch #pagan #witch community #paganism #deity work #eclectic pagan #paganblr #witch blog

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lazywrites · 1 day

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Heyaaa i have a request of a Kurt x reader about a reader who's kind of a punk but has a soft spot for him

You are one lucky anon, i had something like that in the drafts already, she's not a punk, she's a total villain but still.

Nemesis

Kurt wagner x fem!reader (3.5k) Meet cute, reader is a villain

You were not looking for any forgiveness or any friends, your only purpose in Genosha was rebuilding and serving your fellow mutants, few are brave enough to look you in the eye, until one man takes the day to challenge you.

The budding region of genosha was still a work in progress, after the X-men and their lot left the island it was up to all the mutants on the region to simply find their own way to rebuild and organize as always, you came to the island only after you were sure they had left, no need to be getting caught up on their affairs, they would not be pleased with your presence around them either.

You relationship with the X-men and humans in general was shaky to say the least, it was very clear to you that after the last battle you had fought alongside Magneto, and against them no less, you would not be welcomed with open arms.

You had been severely disappointed in both Magnus and Xavier after the whole fiasco involving asteroid M, it was utterly ridiculous letting Magneto simply rope you into helping raise the asteroid only for him to drop it back into the sea anyways, it seemed like there was no safe place for mutants after that, not that you would have been welcomed by anyone, you were not even welcome in Genosha for a while until you proved that your gift would be suitable for rebuilding and moving the structures as the appointed leaders desired.

More than a normal outcast, you were labeled a terrorist and feared even by other mutants for simply refusing to beg and plead for humanity’s sympathy, if fighting for the liberation of your people was terrorism the sure, terrorist, villain, it doesn’t matter.

There was no denying your reputation was intimidading, but your control over gravity was the building crew’s best asset if they wished to finish this rail link system by the end of the week, you stood above the tunnel you were helping the workers to dig, right at the Apex of a crane and far away from the reach of anyone else, you looked down at the work site and tried to visualize what it would look like in a few hours, perhaps you could find a way to speed up the process even more. But then, you’d have to go down and speak to those pesky engineers, no matter, best to just stick to the outline they gave you, that’s what you were thinking until a peculiar noise sounded behind you.

You turn back only to see some kind of dark cloud, slowly dissipating, and there stood a stranger grasping onto the metal bars to keep steady, perhaps he hadn’t considered the height before impulsively coming up to talk to you, he steadies himself with both hands and feet and lifts his head to stare up at you with intense yellow eyes.

“Oh my, oh, this is high, Mein Gott, i did not consider the Wind either” Its not that you were startled by him in any way, but the way he came up so high only to speak to you was slightly intimidating if you had to admit, and you were not exactly in the mood to talk, so taking a step back was only natural.

It would have been a bad move if it were anyone else, but still you let yourself fall back a little, if only to teach this nosy stranger a little lesson.

He lunges foward while still trying to keep himself steady in the bars “No, no no, hold on, be careful my friend” He stops reaching and waving at you once he realizes you feet are not touching the bars at all, you had been floating all along “Oh, that’s good, umm...” He bends over again to get a grip on the bars.

“And you are?” You arch your eyebrow and speak in a rushed tone, wanting to shoo him away as fast as possible so you can go back to contemplating the massive tunnels you had yet to help dig on the ground.

He steadies himself once more, the Wind is blowing particularly Strong today “Kurt Wagner, at your service, you are very famous around here” that sure surprises you, you’ll admit.

“Oh, am i now?”

After many years playing the villain you could confidently say you were never nervous around anyone, but his intense and bright eyes felt like they were studying your every expression, practically glued to your face since the first moment you locked eyes with this man, this time it takes a conscious effort not to shy away.

“Yes, i’ve heard all sorts of things, that you were involved in most of the construction around here, truly impressive” it’s getting harder and harder not to break away from his stare, you try to match it’s intensity, even if his eyes hold no malice there is no way for you to know about his intentions, he continues.

“I’ve just joined the council” he finally breaks the eye contact and you hold back a sigh of relief “Was surprised then, when they spoke of you, how you helped build the very room they were standing on”

“so?”

He smiles up at you, you have to admit he has an endearing smile, a wholesome sort for sure, definely not Hellfire club, you could tell they wouldn’t hire someone like him to try and recruit you.

“Haha” His laugh is not humorous, its more awkward than anything, now it seems that your stare is burning a whole through him “I simply wanted to see if for myself, from what i had known of you before this is unexpected, miss Nemesis.” So he even knows your alias, that earns him a smirk from you.

“Let me guess, you’re with the X-men?” his eyes widen just a fraction “Here to arrest me, hero?” You can see him trying to keep up the smile but now it’s more awkward than anything, you enjoy seeing him squirm.

His tail, which was mostly curved down behind his back to aid with balance swishes back and fourth in a gesture you can only assume is slightly nervous and he nods his head enough for you to understand. But you don’t exactly feel like fighting anyone especially at this time of the day “Don’t worry, i am here simply to contribute.”

He shakes off the awkward air pretty well, but the tail still betrays that he is nervous around you “Well, i simply wanted to see for myself, don’t worry, i am not so judgmental.” He tilts his head to think for a moment “Still i must say my friend, this is a very unsafe place to work, perhaps we can chat somewhere else?”

For the first time in this day, perhaps in the whole month, you try to be nice to someone you’re talking to, making an effort to smile down at Kurt, and he smiles back “Fine, i’ll get you down”

You know that the man has at the very least some very good mobility and could get himself down even if it took some time, but he’s one of the X-men it seems, and if you’re not going to fight him you will at least mess with him a little, before he can properly answer you fly towards him and wrap both of your arms around his torso “Ready?” you say it right next to his pointy ear and feel his body shudder, it seems cruel but making people squirm is your favorite pastime.

“Ah, Miss Nemesis i could get us down as well, you-“ you cut him off before he can suggest anything “Nonsense, i won’t let you fall, hero.” He squirms again in your embrace “and a member of the council deserves preferential treatment, yes?”

And then you fall, you both fall.

But of course you can fly, no sane person would climb up 95 meters without being able to fly, hopefully Kurt also had that notion in his head.

You expected him to be screaming and clinging onto you terrified like the other poor souls you have subjected to this before, but he seems to be enjoying himself, much to your surprise he even lets go of your back to feel the Wind in his hand and smiles wide at you, you can’t help but smile with him, but only for a moment, you have an image to mantain.

Before you can both reach the floor by a few meters or so you gently float down and nudge him towards the ground so he can step down first, he’s still chuckling softly under his breath when he looks up at you “While i disagree that council members should receive better treatment, i can’t truly say that it isn’t fun.” And that earns him another smirk from you.

“So, now that things are as you desired, will you tell me what you really want, Mr.Wagner?”

He’s awkward again, seems not even a moment of levity is enough to loosen his tongue, he clears his throat and runs a hand through his now disheveled hair, which seems to be perpetually in shadow.

“Ah, yes, i am here for the communities of Faith and thought to invite you, you know...” You don’t know, while you had a few encounters with religion, Human religion, you were never faithful or pious and in the times you’ve tried to be, it never ended well for you. That piques your curiosity more than anything he’s said or done so far, you and Faith in the same phrase.

“Invite me where?” You sharply question, to you it seems like he’s going to turn around and mock you at any moment, and you ready yourself for it.

“To our first gathering i hope, it might seem strange to you my friend but your work is greatly appreciated by, well, by most of us here.” and as angry as you’d like to be, as much as you thought you would have to threaten to crush his head you can’t bring himself to, that endearing fanged smile is back on his face and his eyes are once again burning a whole through you.

“And you want me join your sermon or something?” you scoff at him

“Precisely!”

“wait, are you the actual priest?” You arch your eyebrow, the sermon comment was more ironic than anything.

“Well, in certain ways, its more complicated than Worth explaining my friend.” You can tell that your curiosity is contributing to his expectation, he really seems to want you to go for some reason, you try to think of a way to shut him down without being so rough.

“Well that won’t work, joining in with a crowd of pious fools won’t be enough to get me into heaven, hero.”

He raises his head even more and looks you right in the eye, his smile is now tight lipped as if in defiance of you. “The only fools are the ones unwilling to listen miss Nemesis, anyone can be redeemed, they only have to work for it.” And you know he is talking about you.

“Now i know what you will try to say, but you have always cared for your people haven’t you?”

That softens you somewhat, few truly acknowledge all you’ve done for mutantkind, save for perhaps Magneto, and that is why you were willing to aid him in his schemes, even if they rarely pay off.

“I have? I-“He interrupts you once more.

“So you will see, that all the hard work you’ve put in this city is paying off, we’ll meet on that empty building right beside the fountain, it would be great if you... you know” And you sincerely consider it, perhaps it would not be so bad, if only to see this strange man again.

“At 8PM, you’ll know it when you see it.”

“A little late isn’t it?” You question, only to divert his attention from the fact you don’t have anything clever to say.

“It’s the villain special” he narrows his eyes and his smile turns smug after saying that, and then he’s gone in a purple cloud that looks surprisingly beautiful, but with a somewhat unpleasant smell, leaving you stunned.

What a little shit.

You do end up going, and not going at the same time. The rail link takes so much work that when you reach the fountain his ‘sermon’ is almost over.

From what you’ve deduced it was mostly an introduction from him as the new neighbourhood friend or something, you recognize one of the buildings you’ve helped lay the foundation to, well lit with candles and full of pious fools just like you had imagined. You wouldn’t dare going in, with your current uniform that made you look intimidating and powerful now dirty and opaque from all the soot you had to raise up, this was a hard day of work, a few others passing by the fountain stop to look at you as you float down and approach one of the building’s windows.

You press your hands against the glass and peer inside, there are so many different mutants in there, all seem to be engaging in friendly conversations with one another, they seem at Peace, it’s... curious.

Kurt is there too, surrounded by people, they seem to be paying attention to what he’s saying, every word, just like you did earlier today when he called you a fool, he seems to truly have a way with words. The weight of the day’s work seems to finally catch up to you and you decide to give in and finally sit, leaning your back against the window until you are under it sitting against the wall, and for that moment you understand the fools inside, the athmosphere is peaceful and it makes you almost drowsy.

You close your eyes and listen to the gentle murmurs inside until you lose track of time. When you finally come to they are all walking out, or were, the first few that have walked out stop dead in their tracks to point at you and whisper among themselves “Is that Nemesis?” ,”i had no idea people like her even believe in God.”, “Don’t say it like that, she’s done a lot of good.” “Done a lot of bad too”.

Even under their scrutiny you don’t bend, better to just lift your head and look them in the eyes fearless as always. You built the sidewalk and you’ll sleep on it if you want Dammit, that is until Kurt comes out.

“And Meine Freunde you all can come talk to me any time and-“ he cuts himself off when realizing no one is paying attention to him “Oh” he looks at you with wide eyes, as if he had forgotten he asked you to come, or was surprised you did.

Perhaps its all the work but you find that at that moment his stare is almost unbearable, the longer he stands and looks at you with all the others the worse you feel, this was definely a mistake, should you have simply strolled in as you would any other place? Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

This kind of place, these kind of people, they’re not for you. So you take off and fly away

And away, until you can no longer see the glow of the candles, you land at a random rooftop next to a clearing and face the city, the city you helped build, the same city that wouldn’t really accept you, maybe if you had been more outspoken they’d understand where you’re coming from, but there are some things you will always be unable to change, you sit at the edge and stare for a few minutes.

That same pesky noise and smell from earlier today flood your senses, and you simply sigh.

“Come to get me down like i’m a cat in a tree?”

“If anything, you were the one getting me down from high places, Meine Liebe.” And you know exactly what he just called you, when you risk a glance at him he almost blends in with the night sky except for the eyes, and he sits down at the edge with you.

“I must admit, you are pretty good at your job, they seemed happy.” You don’t look at him anymore, you just say it and look down at your muddy boots.

“My-Uh, Thank you, i thought you weren’t there, thought that perhaps my finishing line wasn’t very enticing to you.”

You almost laugh at that.

“No, it was exactly when i was sold, maybe start with that next time” You can tell that he’s turned to look at you by the faint yellow glow his eyes emit, he’s staring again, what’s with him and your face?

“So...”

“So?”

“Why didn’t you come in?” He asks like it would have been the easiest thing in the world and you just have to scoff at that again.

“That would have been something, should i have let you baptize me as well?” as much as you would hate to admit it out loud, you do enjoy the back and fourth with him, even if its not the most interesting conversation you two could be having.

He’s still just staring at you, waiting for the confession as if you presence at his little event had been a promise, you are not a pious woman and have never been, you don’t need forgiveness.

Never asked for it.

“You heard them, that sort of thing is not for me, this is the path i’ve taken in my life, i will not lament now.” You open your eyes after just realizing you had closed them “it was nice, seeing them all together, back in my brotherhood times i heard so many complaints, about how they didn’t fit in, how the humans would just-“acknowledging this leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and it’s not your place to complain anymore, that was a long time ago “I don’t know, treat us like we’re the demons.”

You can feel the faint glow of his eyes pointed somewhere else, so now it’s your turn to look at him, and his turn to face his feet “They’d stare at me too” and you can imagine that, in your eyes he’s incredibly handsome but to a human? They have no taste anyway.

“And you managed to forgive them?” He looks up again, now you’re both face to face.

“Who?”

“Humans, you’re one of the ‘good’ guys after all” and he smiles at you once again, when you look for long enough you find that his smile is almost catlike in a way you cannot yet define. “They must have been hard on you”

“Ah, that they were” he pauses for a moment “Judge not, and you will not be judged, condemn not, and you will not be condemned, forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

He’s managed to soften your heart for the second time this day.

“So, it’s their loss i guess” you sigh and continue “I can’t say i have much forgiveness in my heart for them”

“Are you open to it?” And you sigh again, not knowing if it’s because of him or not.

“Someday i might be, i have a reputation to keep up with you know” And he’s still smiling at you even now, his face is so endearing it makes your lips quirk up as well.

“I’m getting the impression your reputation is changing, at least around this city, miss Nemesis.”

“It sure will change if i keep sleeping on sidewalks and attending sermons” Now you start feeling playful, swinging your legs back and fourth in the air “How did you find me anyway?”

He leans back and reaches for something behind him, smiling at you with his fangs in full display, almost childlike and shows you a pair of binoculars, You simply scoff and turn away from him “unbelievable.” and again for good measure "ridiculous."

“It was quite difficult to keep up with you as well, Nemesis.”

“Y/N.” your turn to him once again

“Huh, y-yes, miss Y/N.” His eyes have widened again making the light even more intense right on you, they seem like two lanterns in the night.

“Can’t have you just calling me that all the time, it’s losing the edge, you know.”

You try and look up at the stars but his eyes are still on you, distracting you, making you nervous.

“And i quite prefer your real name, it suits you much better if you ask me” He seems to be very pleased just from learning something that simple, maybe he thinks he’s fixing you, you’ll let him dream for now.

“Will you be there next time?” he questions

“Nemesis won’t, but maybe Y/N will.” He laughs at that, more from contentment than amusement.

“I’ll be waiting at the door, we should definely get down, i think someone lives up here, meine liebe.” You shouldn’t let him get away with it, usually you’d threaten any random man who tried to refer to you like that, but he is far from ordinary or random.

“What? You want me to fly you down again?” You ask, not really expecting him to agree.

“Yes!”

You turn towards him and let your face betray that you are somewhat bewildered, he’s looking at you like your childhood puppy when you offered it a walk. Logically he only came up there to 'comfort you' at least in his mind, you knew it wasn't like that, but it would be of no use ruining the moment for him.

“I-You-Ugh, fine, I guess you are up here for me after all” and you stand up, waiting for him to follow you, you float upwards and lower your hand for him.

He grasps your hand firmly, his hand almost fully encompassing yours, and it is also surprisingly warm, must be the chill of the night air.

You think.

I'll definely write more villain reader, if anyone has any headcanon requests for a villain with Kurt i'm all ears.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men x reader #x men headcannons #nightcrawler #Lazy writes #marvel x reader

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ts19009 · 17 hours

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Hong's Anatomy: Part 2

Pediatrician surgeon! Joshua x pediatric surgeon! Female Reader

Synopsis: Coming to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital wasn’t on your bucket list, that’s for sure, but when you meet the head of your department, Joshua Hong, it's one of the only things that constantly brightens your day.

Warnings: swearing, made up medical terms and procedures, i have no idea if any of this is medically accurate it’s just for story, flirting, smut (18+) (fingering, oral: f -receiving, penetrative sex, no protection, aftercare)

Words: 5.4k words

NOT EDITED, SO I MAY GO BACK AND EDIT LATER (teehee)

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You hadn’t been on a date in at least a year. What do you even wear to a non-official date with your co-worker?

You were going to a fairly fancy restaurant, so casual was out of the question. It was down to two options. The red or black dress.

You had done your hair and makeup nicer than you normally do for work, it was fun getting dressed up like this after work.

Just like you had planned, Jeonghan rang your doorbell right at eight. To which you opened it to see him in a dress shirt, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Good evening Doctor. L/N. These are for you,” he smirked, bowing and then handing the flowers to you. They were beautiful lilies with a few tulips scattered in the bouquet.

“Come in, I just need a few more things,” you said, opening the door more for him to slip himself in. He immediately darted for the couch and layed down.

“I had an awful shift today. Someone double booked me and I had to do back-to-back surgeries right at the end. Please tell me you had a better day.”

“Somewhat. No double surgeries, but I did skip out on my lunch break, so I’m starving,” you said, making sure that your earrings were on correctly and grabbed your purse. “Now, I’ve waited on you long enough.” Jeonghan smiled, and got off of the couch offering his arm.

“So tell me. Why did you ask me out?” Jeonghan asked, taking a sip of his wine. You took a minute. You didn’t want to say it was to try and “get over” his best friend, so you brought up the other truth.

“My therapist challenged me to make one new friend by our next session next month,” you admitted.

“You don’t have any friends here?” He questioned again.

“Well now I do. You, Joshua, Rose, Jake. You’ve all been very nice to me. I would consider you my friend.”

“Am I just a friend?”

The question caught you off guard, and made you choke on the wine you had just sipped. You quickly brought your napkin to your mouth to prevent spitting on him and coughed.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that question.” Jeonghand had a smirk on his face, but was patient while you wiped your lips. “To be honest, I didn’t think this was a date until Jake told me. He was eavesdropping on our conversation and told me to “have fun on my date”.”

“It’s only a date if you want it to be.” He was smooth, putting the ball in your court.

“I think calling it a date would be fun, but I’m going to be honest. I can’t promise another date,” you warned.

“I expect nonetheless,” he chuckled, holding up his wine to cheer you with.

“Cheers?”

“Cheers. To making new friends.” You chuckled at his statement and took a sip of wine before your food came.

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“How was the date?” Joshua asked, walking up to you at the Ped’s desk. You had just finished your rounds and was about to start prepping for your first surgery.

“Dinner was good, thank you for asking,” you said, Joshua chuckled but nodded. “Just trying to make some friends.”

“I’m your friend. Am I not?”

“This is the first time you’ve called me your friend, but I guess you are now,” you said, not looking up from your tablet which caused Joshua to dramatically exhale.

“What surgery do you have first?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“A poor little girl who has 3rd degree burns is looking for a skin graft. Jeonghan and I are going to try and give her a skin graft and then try to get her to generate new skin.” Joshua’s face soured at the mention of his best friend.

“Good luck. That sounds like a rough case.” You nodded. When doing rounds you saw the poor girl who was in pain by just speaking due to the blistered and bleeding skin.

“I asked Jeonghan to start without me. Watching her during rounds was awful. I don’t know if I could watch her when she was being put to sleep,” you scoffed.

“Jeonghan is pretty good at cases like that. He’s good at detaching himself when he needs to,” Joshua said, ‘I gotta get going to my first surgery, but good luck with yours!”

You nodded and waved goodbye as he hustled down the hallway. What did Joshua mean when he said Jeonghan was good at detaching himself?

I guess you’d have to find out by being his friend. Or potentially more.

About an hour passed when you were paged to finally head into surgery. Jeonghan had sedated the girl and had already started the skin grafting. You were kinda just there in case anything went wrong and as an extra hand.

Plastics is way out of your knowledge.

“How’d it go?” You asked, as Lia gowned and gloved you.

“It was hard on her, but she fell asleep fast. Let’s just hope we only have to do this once for her sake,” Jeonghan noted. He hadn’t looked up from her face yet, but you could tell he was pretty focused, so you didn’t say anything else.

“Okay. I’ve got the burnt and dead skin off. Let’s get that skin graft on and can you start prepping the fluid for the regen process?” Lia nodded and started getting out syringes and brushes.

“I can help with the grafting,” you offered.

“Sure,” Jeonghan nodded. You carefully picked up the individual strips of graft and carefully put the piece on her cheek bone. Then Jeonghan quickly took a bowl or solution and a brush and brushed over the graft to ensure it would stay and in hopes that it would spark regeneration underneath. “Perfect. Just like that, good job Doctor. L/N.”

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“He let me do a skin graft Joshua,” you exclaimed, clearly excited.

“That’s exciting,” he said, clearly not as excited as you, but trying to be nice about it.

“And he said that he could already see signs that the regeneration process will go well and that she can grow her own skin!” Joshua smiled and looked up from his tablet.

“Congratulations on the successful surgery,” he said, before moving away.

“Wait? Did I do something wrong?” You asked. Confused where his cold attitude was coming from.

“I lost my patient. She had a stroke and died on the table. So while I am happy that you did something new and saved YOUR patient, I’m trying not to be sad or angry that I lost mine,” he said, not briefly looking at you before looking to the ground and walking away.

Leaving you to feel like a jerk.

“What just happened?” Jeonghan asked, taking a seat next to you. He had seen the entire interaction take place.

“I was just telling Joshua about the skin graft, but he was going through a hard time and had to leave,” you said, not wanting to make Joshua out to be the bad guy or share your interaction entirely.

“Ahh I see. Joshua tends to bottle up his feelings and then they come crashing down all at once. Maybe he was upset because he hasn’t been in a while,” Jeonghan explained, leaning against the desk. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “Just a little shaken up.”

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“Doctor Y/N!” Jonah exclaimed, as you rushed into your first patient's room. “He’s seizing!”

“Roll him on his side and push 10 milligrams of diazepam,” you ordered, as Jonah nodded and rolled the boy to his side. You quickly listened to his heart beat before moving to the side so that Jake could push the medication. A few moments later the boy stop seizing and stilled.

“Can you book a CT scan for him Jake?” He nodded and left the room while you looked at his chart. The CT scan you had was almost three days old. A lot can change in that time.

When the boy Michael was in the machine, Joshua popped his head into the room.

“Ah sorry, I’ll come back later.”

“No, we’re almost done. Just be a minute or two,” you tried to argue.

“No, I was just wanting to copy some scans to study and teach Carter,” he said, pointing to his intern. Kennedy Carter.

“Well why don’t you both come in and try and help me find out what’s causing the boy’s seizures?” You suggested, as Josua looked to Kennedy, who was nodding. “He’s been having seizures for the past two weeks. One more and I'm scared he won't come back.”

Kennedy looked at the scans as Joshua looked at her charts.

“Epilepsy?” Kennedy suggested, but Joshua shook his head.

“His scans eliminate that and his charts say that he’s been in a stable environment for over a week. Did you page Doctor. Xu?” Joshua asked, as you nodded your head.

“He suggests that we do a removal of the section that stimulates the seizures. That because he’s so young that his brain will adapt and make up for the missing section,” you say, “like a modern day lobotomy.”

“That sounds crazy,” Kennedy chuckled.

“It sounds like the best option, because we can’t figure out what’s causing the seizures,” you say, “we’re done now Albert. We’re going to get you back to the room.”

Albert nodded and closed his eyes as the nurses transported him to another bed and rolled him back to his room. You only stayed a few more moments to finish some charts, but moved out of the way for Joshua and Kennedy.

“I’m looking forward to the party Friday. Will you be there?” Joshua asked, interrupting your charting. You had gotten the invitation from Vernon, but hadn’t given it much thought, but it was Tuesday, you probably should let him know.

“I think so, “ you muttered, “I’ll be a little late, I don’t get off till 10.”

“I’ll save you a drink then,” Joshua grinned, as you looked up from your charting, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. You quickly glanced at Kennedy, who was smirking, but luckily, she didn’t say anything.

“Doctor. Xu, are you sure this is the only way we can prevent seizures?” Albert’s mother asked. Mingaho sighed, but nodded.

“Albert’s condition is quite rare, we can’t get to the bottom of why he’s seizing so often. So we figured that stopping them all together would be better than letting them go on while we think of what’s causing them.” You nodded.

“I agree with Doctor. Xu. The long we wait, the harder it gets on Albert. He’s lucky to remain as intact as he is,” you admit, “the sooner we act, the better.”

Alberts mother sighs and looks to her husband. Alberts Stepfather.

“Alright, just help our boy,” he says as you and Minghao both nod.

“Of course,” you smiled, “we’re going to go take him up now. If you want to say a few words, now would be the time.” Albert’s mother nodded and darted into his room while her father gathered her purse and coat before going in.

“Have you ever done this before Minghao?” You asked, watching Albert’s mother and father wrap him in a hug. Minghao looked around and grabbed your elbow before guiding you down a little further, assumingly away from the family.

“No, but this is our only option,” he whispered, “Doctor. Jeon is the only one who has done it, but only once and he refused to do it again.” You sighed and nodded. This wasn’t going to be easy or fun.

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Scrubbing in was always the worst part of surgeries. It took, what felt like forever. All any surgeon wanted to do was dive right in and start operating, but sanitization was just as important as anything else.

So when you were scrubbing in for your surgery you looked up at the gallery to see Joshua and Kennedy.

Great. Something else to think about.

“Are you going to the party on Friday?” A voice sounded from beside you, breaking you out of your thoughts. It was Minghao.

“I am. I just told Vernon,” you answered, “what about you?”

“Yup, I wasn’t going to at first but Joshua convinced me. Told me that there was a new type of spiked tea that he was bringing,” he chuckled. That’s right, Mingaho Xu was a yoga, meditating, tea lover when he wasn’t operating on brains.

“Then I’ll see you at the tea kettle,” you joked as he chuckled and nodded at you before heading into the OR.

Maybe making friends wasn’t as hard as you thought.

Once Mingaho had opened Albert’s brain up, he took a few moments to make sure everything was in order before starting to cut a good section out of the left side of the brain.

Your job was to make sure that the brain stayed moist so you would spray it with saline and then you would start operating after the section was gone and seal up any brain bleeds.

You only looked up at Joshua once. He was watching you closely and smiled down at you pretty quickly. Before you could smile back the monitor started beeping rapidly.

“Brain bleed Doctor. L/N!” Minghao said, not looking up, but pointing to the bleed. It was a medium sized bleed and located right in the center of the cut. You were quickly handed a a suction and irrigation device and started washing away the bleed.

“Doctor L/N,” Minghao warned, you only had a few minutes before the bleeding would completely kill the brain and leave the patient brain dead.

“Almost,” you said, very concentrated. A few seconds later the bleed stopped and the machines stopped beeping as well. “All clear Doctor. Xu.”

Minghao nodded and resumed. After removing the remaining section of the brian Minghao let you close and then checked in on Albert’s vitals that were going steady.

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“Albert’s out of surgery, he did really well,” you said, to Albert’s mother and stepfather. They both cried out in joy and hugged each other.

“Can we see him?” You nodded.

“It’ll just be a few minutes, and we need to keep him in a coma for a few days, but you can sit with him until visiting hours are over.” They nodded and smiled before sitting down and waiting for a nurse to come let them in.

This was your last scheduled surgery, so you were now just on call. You had been up for a good six hours, with a total of maybe three hours of sleep.

You needed a nap.

You had found a fairly quiet on-call room close to the Ped’s unit, and close to the food court if you wanted a snack mid nap. You had only slept there once, but now seemed like a perfect time. So quickly, but quietly made your way to the food court and ordered a sandwich and iced coffee.

Just as you got to the on-call room, you could hear someone behind the door.

Shit, someone was in there.

You knocked on the door, praying that the person was leaving. You could hear the ruffling behind the door before it opened a few seconds later to reveal Joshua, donning a gnarly bedhead.

“Hey,” he yawned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize as he shakes his head and raises his hands.

“No, I was getting ready to leave,” he reassured, “were you wanting to sleep here?” You nodded and raised your lunch.

“I like to eat here then take a power nap. It’s the only fairly quiet place on this side of the hospital.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled, “well it’s all yours.” You nod and step in, watching him move around and collect his coat and throw out his can. “You did amazing in your surgery by the way. I didn’t stay for the whole thing, but I watched you fix that brain bleed.”

You smiled, “thanks. I haven’t done a lot of neuro, so I really enjoyed it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, “have a good lunch Y/N.”

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You indeed were late to the party much later than you hoped for. You got home at ten, and didn’t get back out the door until almost eleven. Luckily, you texted Jeonghan and made sure that the party was going to last longer. It was, so when you pulled up to the party it was almost midnight.

“Y/N!” Jeonghan exclaimed, opening his door to see you with a bottle of wine. “You made it.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t get out of work until ten,” you sighed, handing him the wine. He smiled and led you to the living room where everyone was.

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait a minute,” he smiled. You nodded and took a stand by the fire place.

“Y/N!” Joshua said, from across the room. You smiled and waved at him as he approached you. “You look great! I don’t often see you out of scrubs.”

“Hey, we got drinks together twice,” you joked. Joshua chuckled and raised his hands.

“Sorry. Haven’t seen you out of scrubs in a while,” he corrected as you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“You look good too, and I’m sorry I haven’t asked you out after work in a while,” you started but was interrupted by Jeonghan.

“This is really good wine!” He said, handing you a glass and taking a sip of his. “Oh, hey Shua. Did you want a glass?”

“No no, I have a glass of whiskey somewhere here,” he answered, “I just promised Y/N that I’d save her a drink and was going to offer her one. But it looks like you beat me to it.”

Jeonghan smirked, “not my fault you didn’t open the door.” Joshua just smiled and then sent a little glare his way. You could feel the tense atmosphere and looked between the two men glaring at each other before Chan interrupted.

“Joshua, is this your whiskey? Can I have it?” He said lifting the glass and pointing to it.

“No Chan..” he sighed, “I’ll be right back,” he smiled at you and sent another little glare at Jeonghan before rushing to save his drink.

“What was that about?” You asked Jeonghan, who just shrugged.

“Me and Shua have always gravitated toward similar people. Both friendship wise and romantically, it’s caused a few arguments in the past, but we’ve always come out okay on the other side.”

“You’re interested in me?” You exclaimed. Jeonghan chuckled and nodded his head.

“Was that not obvious? I mean I did ask if our last date was a date. I mean I can’t speak for Shua, but I can tell he definitely doesn’t just like you as a friend.”

Hearing the blatant confession made you blush on both cheeks and caused you to look away, not being able to look Jeonghan in the eyes. Two very attractive, hard working, kind men. Interested in you? This doesn’t sound real.

“Sorry, I managed to get my drink back,” Joshua chuckled before playfully glaring at Chan. “What did I miss?” Jeonghan just smirked and took a sip of his wine before making his way to the patio where Seokmin and Wonwoo were.

Joshua stayed practically glued to your side the entire night. You would wander to each of the rooms talking with almost every person, but Joshua would wander with you, fetching you new drinks, food, and contributing to conversations. The moment he went to the bathroom Mingyu chuckled.

“He’s pretty keen on you,” he smiled.

“So I’ve been told,” you blush, “I don’t mind.”

“I mean, he’s practically waiting on you hand and foot.”

Right before you could say anything else, Joshua returned from the bathroom looking down at his phone.

“I just ordered an uber, do you want to ride with me?” He asked, as you looked at the time. It was just hitting three.

“I better, thanks,” you smiled, as Joshua looked up from his phone and smiled. Everyone was slowly starting to leave, Seungkwan, Chan, Mingyu, and Jun were the only ones left and they were all in the living room watching a rerun of a football game. You both made your way and took a seat on the couch together before the uber pulled up. It was quite a tight fit for the both of you, your knees were touching and because of the amount of drinks you had, you started leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Y/N, the uber’s here,” Joshua said, nudging your shoulder and helping you stand up. “Thanks for the party Jeonghan, I had fun.”

Jeonghan smiled, and gave him a hug, before giving you a hug as well.

“Let me know when you both get home,” he smiled. You nodded and waved to everyone while Joshua was waiting for you at the door.

“Thank you for the uber I had a good time tonight,” you blushed, at Joshua. He had insisted on walking you to the door.

“I had fun as well. Let’s do it again sometime,” he smirked, as you playfully rolled your eyes. You were quite close, you leaning against the door and him standing almost a step away.

He smelled like vanilla and you could hear his steady breathing. You could still feel a light buzz due to the few drinks you had, but he was getting closer.

“Joshua,” you looked up at him to see his face awfully close to yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, leaning in closer.

“That’s the thing. I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips together. He reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Joshua,” you moaned as you both moved further into your home and he pressed you against the door. “What about the uber?”

“Should I tell him to go on?” He panted, out of breath from all the kissing. You nodded and Joshua smiled, before kissing you again. “I’ll go tell him that I’ll be staying.” You nodded and watched him quickly run out to the uber.

You smiled, and fixed your hair in the mirror before Joshua knocked on the door again. You opened it to see no uber and a handsome doctor waiting for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and practically pulled him inside.

“Did. I. Tell you. How. Gorgeous. You look. Tonight?” Joshua confessed in between kisses.

You giggled, but didn’t stop kissing him, running your fingers through his hair and pulled him towards your couch. The back of his knees hit it and he fell backwards onto it. This was it, you hadn’t slept with anyone in well over a year, let alone kissed anyone. You were extremely nervous, and Joshua could tell by the look of your face.

“It’s okay, we can go slow if you’d like,” he smiled, pushing his hair out of his face and starting to undo the buttons on his dress shirt prompting you to start undoing your shirt as well.

You hadn’t worn anything fancy, but luckily it was all matching. When your shirt had hit the ground Joshua was looking up at you, smirking again. You leaned down and connected your lips again sitting on his lap. Joshua’s hand went up to cup your cheek again while the other ran down your side and squeezed your hip, before dipping it into your skirt. He slipped a finger under your panites and snapped the fabric against your hip before moving lower towards your core.

Before he could go any further, you moved to take your skirt off and throw it right by your shirt. Joshua’s shirt hadn’t been completely discarded, but simply unbuttoned, you quickly pushed it off his shoulders as he slid both his hands to his pants and also discarded them.

You went back to kissing for a few moments before one of your bra straps started falling off your shoulders. Joshua chuckled and pushed them both off before undoing the clasp in the back and letting it fall off, leaving you almost completely bare. You shuttered as Joshua started pressing kisses down your neck. While he was kissing down your neck to your collarbones and then chest you slid your hands that were in his hair and around his neck to run up and down his chest. He wasn’t ripped to shreds, but he was definitely toned. You ran your hands across his abs before he started kissing your chest more passionately this time. You moaned and pulled his hair a little harder than before, letting Joshua laugh.

“God, you’re so hot,” he moaned again before he started kissing farther down towards your stomach. Sooner or later he was right in between your thighs.

“Joshua,” you moaned as he kissed along your legs.

“It’s okay babe, just relax and have fun,” he smirked, sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them by the t.v. “Do you have work tomorrow?” He asked, as you shook your head no. “Good,” he said before diving in and attaching his lips to your core. His tongue went straight to licking your clint, causing you to throw your head back and arch your chest.

Joshua continued to lick and suck at your core while one of his hands went up to massage your breast and the other to hold your hips down.

“Stop moving so much babe,” he muttered. You whined and pushed his head down. He continued to lick and suck on your clit as you moaned more and started moving your hips into his face more, getting closer to finishing. “Stop moving!”

“Then make me cum,” you moan, looking down at Joshua. He was smirking.

“I’m trying, but I can’t if you keep moving,” he said using both his hands to hold you down and went right back between your thighs, this time using his nose to rub your clit while his tongue licks around your hole. “Tongue or fingers babe?”

“God, your tongue. It was doing so well,” you sighed, taking one of his hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. He nodded and started licking and sucking on your clit again, this time faster making you come in a matter of minutes. Just as you finished your climax, Joshua slid two fingers into your hole and started moving as well. “What are you doing?” You cried, still sensitive and watched him slide up and kiss you.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, we’re gonna go all night baby,” he flirted, still fingering you.

“It’s already nearly five in the morning,” you whined as Joshua added a third finger.

“I’ve never had morning sex before,” he grinned, “and to think, we’re not even in bed.”

“Morning couch sex. Who woulda thought?” You joked before moaning at a particular spot that Joshua hit with his fingers.

“I’m not opposed,” he said as you came again. This time Joshua gave you some time to breathe. “That was quite lovely,” he said, sitting up and throwing your legs over his lap.

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, as he started massaging your ankles.

“Again, I’m not opposed to doing more,” he said.

“Do you want to go to my bedroom?” You asked, as he stopped massaging your ankles and nodded. You smiled and held out your hands and stood up, he took them and you practically pulled him straight off the couch.

“Your place is really nice for only being here for a month,” he complimented.

“Thanks, I had to buy new furniture and decorations for a place that I really only sleep in,” you joked, “I guess I’m doing more than sleeping now.” Joshua smirked but didn’t say anything as you opened your bedroom door and flicked on the lightswitch which controlled the bedside lamp.

Joshua held your hand and guided you to the bed and gently laid you down before laying beside you. He was still holding your hand and started playing with your fingers.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asked, you shook your head.

“No, but I’m on birth control and I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” you say as he stops playing with your fingers to look up at you.

“I’m clean as well, but it seems like Joe already told you,” he joked, referring to your first day after work, when Joe admitted that Joshua hadn’t been on a date in the six years he had lived in Seattle. “Are you sure you don’t want a condom?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him on top of you. “I’m sure. I just wanna feel you.”

Joshua smiled and grabbed his cock, before lining it up with your entrance.

“You’re so wet,” he moaned.

“You did make me cum twice before this,” you joke.

“Har har,” Joshua jokes back, “works out in our favor though,” he says before pushing himself into you. He didn’t push himself fast, but it was enough to catch you off guard. His one hand reached out and grabbed yours, pinning it above your head, while the other cupped your cheek more and started kissing you to swallow your moans.

“Oh,” you moaned.

“That it baby,” Joshua sighed into your mouth as he pressed himself all the way into you. When he got all the way in, he stopped to let you adjust to him, he could feel you clenching around him and it drove him crazy. About 20 seconds later you finally felt good enough for him to start, so you squeezed his hand for him to start.

Joshua smiled and started thrusting into you at a steady pace. Everytime he would slam his cock back into you it sent you seeing stars.

“Josh, it feels so good,” you moaned, arching your back, letting your chest and perked nipples brush against his. Joshua smiled and moved his other hand that was holding your leg around his waist to squeeze your nipple. You moaned again, clenching around him harder this time feeling a building pressure in your stomach. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he moaned, pressing more kisses against your neck and face before thrusting into you a few more times and then cumming. He let out a groan, but continued to keep thrusting into you, bringing the hand that was holding your hand to rub circles on your clit until you started to feel the pressure in your stomach burst.

You came hard.

Joshua smiled and brushed some sweaty hair away from your face as you caught your breath and started kissing you again. You could feel the cum dripping down your thighs, you needed a break.

“I can’t go again. I need a few minutes,” you whispered, pulling away from the kiss to try and catch your breath again. Joshua nodded and pressed one last kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out of you and reaching over to the bedside table for tissues.

He carefully opened your legs and started cleaning you up while you took a sip of water. You winced when the cloth hit your core, but Joshua didn’t really flinch and continued to wipe around your legs.

When Joshua was done, he got off the bed and picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom. Damn, he was good at sex and made sure to provide aftercare, you really know how to pick’em.

After you peed Joshua carried you back to bed. You lifted the covers and slipped under as Joshua went back to the living room to get some clothes. He came back in his boxers and your underwear.

“Can you go to my closet and get a sleep shirt? You can grab a shirt too if one looks like it fits,” you asked. Joshua nodded and walked into your closet. A few minutes later he came out in your old oversized band shirt and a new pair of panties and oversized shirt, for you.

He handed them to you and crawled into bed next to you.

“I can stay right?” He asked, as you nodded.

“We’re still drunk. So yeah, you can stay,” you said, snuggling up next to him and nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You both laid there in silence for a while before Joshua looked down to see you fast asleep on his chest.

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taglist: @asasilentreader , @myjaeyunn, @gaslysainz @itsnotjop

A/N: Omg this is my first ever smut. I looked over it a few time to make sure it all made sense and was fluid, but if there are any weird things about it lmk. Anyways! So happy and excited that they did have sex because it opens up boyfriend Joshua core and I'm excited to dive into that. Don't worry, we're still going to get some love triangle with Jeonghan, but this defiantly adds something to the mix.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed! And feel free to talk to me in the comments <3

#seventeen fic #joshua x y/n #joshua hong #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #greys anatomy #hong's anatomy #joshua angst #hong jisoo #joshua hong smut #joshua hong fluff #hong jisoo smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen series #seventeen smut #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut

59 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 1 day

Note

hi mira i’m going to rq for jjk (gojo specifically) :) kinda inspired by a fic idea of mine so if i see you post it maybe it’ll give me inspo to actually write too LOL — this is also a little long sorry, you can shorten as you wish 😓 maybe it’ll get the brain juices going idk

Y/N was really close to geto (i was thinking siblings but do whatever) and when he turned curse user and left, it made Y/N rethink why she was a sorcerer herself. she believed in geto’s ideals, but seeing his mindset 180 made her question if the same thing would happen to her since she was always weaker-minded than him. so she quit dropped out of the school and gojo never saw her since

skipping to the present, Y/N became a sorcerer again after having a conversation with geto some time before he died. with yuji being sukuna’s vessel, she goes to the school herself and sees gojo (their last convo was actually an argument leaving everything [him] behind). gojo’s just really stubborn, but he’s there when Y/N really needs him. from there they only keep encountering each other until they make up, their feelings are all out on the table, etc. etc.

── CHIAROSCURO

Synopsis: You don’t really know who you are without Suguru Geto. Satoru Gojo doesn’t know who he is without either of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo x Reader, Geto & Reader have something less than romantic but more than platonic going on

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: angst, mentions of death, flawed y/n character, major time skips, most plot events happen off screen, characters are probably ooc tbh i haven’t written for jjk in months

A/N: finally finished the first of the requests I’ve received so far!! it ended up being way more geto-centric than i had planned for it to be though i’m so sorry angel 😭 and it was also getting way too long so i decided to end it by just hinting the development of the rest of the story you mentioned LMAO i hope that’s okay 😫

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Most people grew up with one shadow, but according to your mother, you had lived your entire life with two. The first was the same as the one everyone had, that darkening of the ground in the shape of your figure. The second was the boy who lived next door — or, at least, that was what she told you.

His name was Suguru Geto, and despite his dark features and darker clothing, he had a perpetually sunny demeanor, always quick to offer you a gentle smile whenever you glanced his way. He was polite even when it wasn’t required of him, and though your mother teased you for it, you knew she was secretly grateful for his presence in your life.

The greatest thing Suguru had ever done for you, though, was not teach you manners. It was that he gave you someone to follow. Perhaps it was true that he was your shadow, but it was his in which you cowered when you were frightened, when the brightness of the world was too harsh for your eyes, which, when it came to cruelties and horrors, were as sensitive and new as a child’s.

Suguru was always happy to take on that role. He would stand in front of you, his shoulder blades pinching together as he puffed out his chest and rebuked whichever neighborhood child had dared to tease you. They all ran from him when he was like that, when his brow grew heavy over his eyes and the corners of his mouth twisted into a scowl.

Not you, though. You stayed behind his back, blinking owlishly at the way the others scurried, laughing along when Suguru likened them to mice with a click of his tongue.

Suguru didn’t like those who hurt the ones weaker than them, so you didn’t, either. Suguru thought that the role of the strong was to protect the frail, so you did, too. Whatever Suguru believed, you did as well, because what else was there for you? It was easier for you to hold onto his hand and press against his back, to allow him to tell you where to place your feet, so that there was never even a chance of you falling.

That was why it wasn’t a surprise that, upon Suguru being scouted as a sorcerer, you were extended the same invitation. It was a natural consequence — where he went, you followed, and so when he packed his things and went to Tokyo, it was both of your bags that he was carrying, while you peered around the train station and wondered what kind of place you were going to end up in.

Your new classmate was the one that picked the two of you up. He was tall — taller than even Suguru, though the majority of his body consisted of his legs — and had an unearthly appearance, with pale hair carefully mussed into a seemingly thoughtless style and black glasses which slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal eyes like diamonds.

He was the most brilliant thing you had ever seen. Lowering your eyes, you stepped back into Suguru’s shadow, earning you a scoff from your classmate and a worried exhale from your friend.

“Blech,” he said. “You’re supposed to be my classmate, really? How’re you going to keep up, huh? I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world, you know.”

“I think we’ll manage just fine,” Suguru said pleasantly, though there was an edge to his voice, his teeth like knives when he smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Satoru Gojo,” your classmate said, shaking Suguru’s hand firmly. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Suguru said. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“Hi,” you said, swallowing even as you said it, pursing your lips and glancing around, wishing for some kind of escape. Gojo hummed and then poked you on the forehead.

“Aw,” he said when you did not visibly react beyond furrowing your brow. “I thought you might fall over or something.”

“I see,” you said. “Um. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go before our teacher gives us all detention for playing hooky.”

Unlike Suguru, Gojo didn’t allow you to follow him around. He made fun of you when you were scared and poked you on the forehead if you cringed away from his taunts. The latter occurred so frequently that you were surprised there was not a permanent indent in your skin.

“One day I’ll get you, pretty Y/N,” he’d always promise you. “Seriously! I mean, you barely have a backbone in the first place, so it’s really a wonder you’re standing at all.”

At first, Suguru used to demand he stop, but as the months went by, his protests grew weaker and weaker. You supposed that it must’ve been nice for him, to stand beside someone for once instead of constantly throwing himself in front of them. You could not blame him, but you found that you missed him more with every passing day.

But what was there to be done about it? After all, you were nothing compared to the two special grade sorcerers. You did what you could and found it was, for the most part, sufficient, but sufficient would never let you exist beside either of them in any way that mattered. So you fell behind, and this time, it was not a conscious choice but an unavoidable circumstance. This time, when you hung back, Suguru continued forward without you.

Empty-minded and weak-hearted. That was what your teacher called you. He sent you on the simplest missions he could, and still you struggled. Sometimes, this meant you would sit alone in the classroom until it was long past dusk, listening to your teacher ramble and shout.

“You are not weak!” he would say, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “By all rights, your technique is perfectly serviceable. You are not weak, Y/N L/N!”

“Yes, sir,” you would respond meekly.

“At least, you should not be,” he’d say. “Yet somehow, inexplicably, you are. Even a Grade 2 curse nearly got the better of you. Your classmates are exorcising special grades on their own! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?”

Suguru, and sometimes Gojo, would wait outside of the door for you, lingering until they heard the shuffle of your feet, the soft sniffles which announced your arrival. Then Suguru would wrap a casual arm around your shoulders and tell you that it was fine if you were weak, just as long as he was around to protect you, and Gojo would do that infuriating thing where he’d poke you in the forehead and pretend like it was a miracle you hadn’t toppled over yet.

Otherwise, you did not see your classmates. Shoko Ieri was far too busy learning to do things you could never hope to accomplish in your lifetime, and Suguru and Gojo were called on to complete assignments with such unhealthy regularity that their education actually suffered for it.

You never knew what they did on their missions. You never cared to ask, either. The details would only make you queasy, and in this new world where you were not permitted to shudder and seek out the safety that Suguru so willingly provided you with, you tried to avoid things like that. Harsh things, brilliant things, cruel things — all of them you ran from at an equal pace. Without Suguru there to defend you, you turned into one of those children he had so-despised in your youth. Always running. Always hiding. Always shying away from anything resembling a challenge.

It was after one such mission that Suguru returned differently. You knew he had changed because he crawled into your bed that night instead of his own, drew the blanket up around his shoulders and pressed his weeping eyes against your collarbones.

“It’s no good,” he said after the third time you had asked him what was the matter, your hands nervously skimming over his shoulders, smoothing over his rough hair. “Everything’s been ruined, Y/N. Or maybe it was always like this. Maybe you’re the only one who’s ever understood the world to begin with.”

The next morning, when his feet touched the ground and he slid out of your bed, you were hit with the strangest feeling that you would never see him again. Not in the way you were used to seeing him, anyways. Sitting up in your bed, leaning against your pillows, you watched as he left, though when he went to close the door behind him, you reached out your hand.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, raising his eyebrows.

“Is everything okay?” he said, his knuckles growing white from gripping the handle.

“I want to look at you,” you said. You knew without knowing that the instant the door shut between the two of you, you would lose him forever. Your best friend. Your shadow. You wished that there was a way you could reach out and save him, but the thought of you saving someone was outlandish. Impossible. Laughable.

“Yeah?” he said. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and it did not reach his irises, but nevertheless, he somehow managed to muster up a smile. It was not gentle as much as it was exhausted, but still, he smiled as best he could at you. “Okay.”

You hugged one of the pillows to your chest. “I miss you a lot.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.

“Not yet,” you said. “I think you will someday, though. You’ll go somewhere far away, and I won’t be able to follow you there. You won’t even want me to.”

“What kind of place is that?” he said. “I’ll always want you to follow me around, Y/N. As long as I’m there, not a corner on this planet could be a place I don’t want you to follow me to.”

The door creaked shut. You stared at the blank expanse and thought to yourself that he had always been very good at lying.

From that day forward, there were two opposite phenomena which occurred simultaneously. On the one hand, that blinding radiance of Gojo’s was magnified by the minute, and on the other, Suguru withdrew further and further into a grey sort of monotony that, try as you might, you could not pull him from.

“Gojo,” you said one day, tugging on his sleeve and flinching when he turned to look at you. As per usual, he pressed his finger into your forehead.

“Yikes,” he said. “Seems like you’re still lacking in the spinal department, dear Y/N. But just so you know, I’ve cheated off of your math homework enough times that you really shouldn’t be scared of me.”

“Please help Suguru,” you said.

“Eh?” Gojo said. “What do you mean? Help him with what, his math homework? I’ll just give him yours to copy as well, so why don’t you cut the middle man and show it to him yourself?”

“No, not with — just, he’s going away, and I don’t want him to, but he doesn’t — you’re the only one,” you stammered.

It was even more difficult to speak with Gojo now than it had been when you had first come to school. That was because it was only recently that you were realizing that that way he made you feel, that shyness, that apprehension, was not because of his gleaming, sharp countenance, but rather something else, something soft in your heart that thudded to life whenever he smirked at you.

“You want me to take his mission for him?” Gojo said, his nose wrinkling. “What, so the two of you can go on a date or something? Forget about it.”

“What?” you said. “No, what — a date — that’s not what I meant!”

It was too late. Gojo was gone, and with him, your last chance at helping Suguru vanished, too. In fact, Gojo avoided you until you went home from the summer break, making a face whenever you glanced his way, and by the time you came back to start the next year, it was too late for anyone to do much of anything.

“Y/N L/N,” Masamichi Yaga said, entering the library where you were writing a paper for your literature class. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his cheeks a dark, flushed color, his teeth gritted together so hard that a muscle in his jaw twitched periodically. “Do you have a moment? It’s urgent.”

“I was just working on the essay that we were assigned, but it can wait,” you said agreeably, all too eager to give yourself a break from the work. Pushing aside your paper and pen, you stood up, massaging your wrist. “What is it, sir?”

“It’s, er…” His shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Miss L/N.”

You tried to run through the list of things that he could be sorry for, but only one thing came to mind. You froze, your eyes widening. He had been on a mission, hadn’t he?

“Suguru,” you breathed. “Is it — it’s not about Suguru, is it?”

“In a sense, it is,” Yaga said.

“Is he alright?” you said. “He has to be alright.”

“We believe his condition is fine, considering what he’s done,” Yaga said.

“‘What he’s done?’ Why are you being so vague? What’s going on, sir? Please say it plainly,” you said.

“It’s your parents, Miss L/N,” he said, spitting it out all at once like the phrase itself was poisoned. “They’re dead.”

Your stomach dropped. You had imagined so many things. In your nightmares, you saw your classmates dying, your teachers, even yourself. But never your parents. Your parents, who were so far removed from this awful world. Your parents, who only a month ago had sent you back to school with a pair of new shoes they had saved up to buy. You parents, who had never harmed anyone in their lives. What had they done that was so terrible it warranted such a sudden death? What were they being punished for?

“How — how did it happen?” you said. “Was it a curse?”

“Miss L/N…” Yaga said, his entire self deflating. “I’m really sorry.”

“What? Stop apologizing,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. “Just tell me. Stop saying sorry and tell me!”

“It was most likely Suguru Geto,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the words. All residents of the village were killed. Jujutsu High investigated. Based on residuals…all 112…the work of Geto’s curse manipulation. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “No, why would he do that? My parents loved him, and he loved them, too! We grew up together, so why would he do that?”

“Based on the evidence, he most likely killed his own parents, too,” Yaga said. Your hands wound themselves in your hair as you tugged.

“That’s a lie,” you said. “Suguru isn’t like that. Suguru is good! Suguru looks out for those weaker than himself! He protects people, Yaga. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

“Miss L/N—” he began, but you were already running, sprinting as fast as you could. There was no way. There was no way. There was no way.

Your house and the one beside it — Suguru’s house, a voice in the back of your mind nagged you, that’s Suguru’s house — were blocked off with yellow caution tape. Dozens of police officers were milling about the scene, barking into handheld radios, conversing tensely. One of them noticed you and extended an arm to stop your approach.

“Stay back, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. No outsiders allowed until the investigation has been concluded,” the officer said.

“That’s my house,” you whispered. “Officer, that’s my house. Why are there so many people here? It’s not true, is it?”

The officer didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The pitying frown on his face told you everything you needed to hear. It was true. It was true. Your parents, your parents were dead, and that meant —

What had it been like for them? Had your mother welcomed him? When she opened the door for him, had her eyes crinkled at the corners in greeting? Had she offered him tea, as she usually did, because she was so fond of him and he was so fond of the drink when made by her hand? And what of your father? Had he reached over to clap Suguru on the back, or had he tried to grab him in an affectionate headlock so that he could mess up his hair with all the zeal of a man half his age?

You threw up. Some of the vomit splattered onto the officer’s shoes, causing him to fold his lips into a thin, disapproving line. Taking a step back, he reached over to pat you on the back as you heaved and hacked, trying to expel the knowledge from your mind and finding that you were entirely unable to.

You walked back to the train station in a trance, your eyes reddened and glazed over, your mouth sour from the taste of the stale crackers the officer had handed you, your hands shoved in your pockets as you tried to remember to breathe through your nose. The officer had offered to escort you to the station, but you had refused. You needed the time to think, and anyways, what did it matter? No ordinary person could hurt you, and no sorcerer would.

“I didn’t think you’d come back alone,” a soft voice said from behind you. You turned around, your insides roiling at the very sound, your ears ringing as you took in Suguru’s casual posture. His hands, too, were in his pockets, and the streetlights cast misshapen, dancing shadows over his face, the effect worsened by the odd tilt of his head.

He was refusing to look at you. That was why he was standing like that. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes, and that was the only confirmation you needed.

“So what?” you said. “I did. Are you going to kill me next?”

“What?” he said. Briefly, he glanced up at you in alarm, and then, like he had remembered he didn’t deserve to feel betrayed by that kind of question, he slouched back down into the same apathy of earlier. “No.”

“Just do it,” you said. “Just do it, you fucking asshole! Why would — you — you killed my parents! You killed my parents, and now you’re just talking to me as if nothing happened? Why? Why would you…?”

His expression did not budge again. “They were filthy monkeys who deserved it.”

“Huh?” you said. The statement was so bizarre that, for a moment, your anger was forgotten. “What the fuck?”

“This world doesn’t need more non-sorcerers running around,” he said. “Every single curse you’ve ever fought, it’s their fault. Those idiots who don’t know how to control the meager amounts of cursed energy they have, they’re the ones who cause curses to manifest. You should be thanking me, Y/N. This’ll make your life that much easier.”

“Do you really think that's the case?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “With my entire heart, I think that it is.”

You had always, always followed Suguru. When he said to protect the weak, you did so. When he said to take care of others, you did that, too. Whatever he told you to believe, you believed. But how could you do that this time? How could you believe in the person who had murdered your parents?

“You killed my parents because of your stupid theory,” you said numbly. “You killed my parents. Suguru, you killed my parents.”

You didn’t care about the one hundred and twelve villagers. That was the most shameful thing: if it had just been that, then you might still have followed him. He could’ve convinced you — no. You could’ve convinced yourself that it was fine, that he really was looking out for you in that peculiar manner of his. It wouldn’t have been impossible. Even now, your resolve was so weak, and it was only the thought of your parents that allowed you to cling to it at all.

“They asked about you,” he said dully. “I let them. My own parents, I didn’t give them a chance to say anything, but yours…I let them ask. I guess you could consider it my last favor to you.”

The ringing grew louder. You pushed your palms against your ears in an effort to drown it out, but you couldn’t. If anything, it just grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. You couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t make it go away, just like you couldn’t make Suguru’s words go away.

“It was the only thing they worried about. In their last moments, it wasn’t their own lives they begged for…it was yours,” he said, his gaze far away, his irises unreadable as he recalled that moment. “How strange is that?”

“Shut up,” you said.

“I told them you were okay,” he said.

“Shut up,” you repeated, though it was unsteady and unconvincing. “Shut up, shut up.”

“They were pretty happy about that,” he said, in a tone filled with dreamy recollection. “They didn’t fight much after I promised you’d be okay. What simple creatures they must have been, that even while dying they could only think to rejoice!”

You screamed. It was wordless and brittle, a symptom of your lungs’ collapse as you broke into sobs, fumbling in your purse for your phone. Suguru watched as you unsteadily punched in a number you had never bothered to save, not trying to stop you, maybe not seeing the point.

“Gojo,” you said when he picked up, before he could even say anything. “Gojo, please just — can you come get me? Please come get me.”

“Okay,” he said, to your surprise. He didn’t argue or call it a waste of time or point out that you were still bawling as you spoke. “Where are you? I can be there pretty soon if I steal one of the managers’ cars, I think.”

“By my house,” you said. Suguru did not move, showing you his hands, as if he was giving you permission to do what you wanted. It was your choice. If you just told Gojo that he was with you, then you had no doubt he’d be apprehended within minutes.

“I see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”

You were the one who hung up, not him. You were the one who made the decision. You were the one who looked at Suguru and then turned your back to him so that, for once, he was the one behind you.

“I can’t reconcile it,” you said, using the ends of your sleeves to blot at your tears as you hiccuped. “I can’t understand it. Even after everything, I still want to follow you. I still want you to be my shadow. I still want to be yours.”

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Don’t turn. You couldn’t turn around. If you turned around, then that meant your old teacher was right. Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. You could not turn around.

A dry breeze rustled through the leaves on the ground, sounding like footsteps against pavement. Don’t turn.

You turned. You should’ve known better than to expect anything different from yourself. You had never been someone who could stand in the front for very long. You would always turn. You would always run and cower and hide.

Anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as you saw he was already gone. You were alone. You had let him go. You had allowed that mass murderer, that criminal, to walk away from you. What kind of a sorcerer were you? Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. That sort, then. The horrible sort.

When the headlights of the car Gojo had borrowed swung around the corner, you had long since curled up on the grass, your cheek to the mud as you tried to grasp what you had done.

“Hey,” Gojo said. “Y/N?”

He must’ve gotten out of the car at some point, because suddenly, he was crouching before you, pulling you to your feet, his limbs awkward and gangly as he cocked his head, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses despite the darkness.

“I’m a piece of shit,” you said, and then you were clutching the collar of his uniform jacket. “Why am I like this?”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He killed my parents,” you said. “He killed my parents, and I let him walk away.”

“Who?” Gojo said, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew who. You looked up at him miserably, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “You let who walk away?”

“I don’t think he was planning on seeing me,” you said, letting go of his shirt and pleading with him to understand. “We weren’t supposed to meet.”

“You saw Suguru,” Gojo accused, and now it was his turn to take you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle of your biceps, his eyes wild. “You saw him, and you didn’t tell me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “He killed my parents, Gojo.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“It is,” you said. “It is, he told me it is, and I couldn’t even do anything when he said so.”

“Why?” Gojo hissed. “You only had to tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t!” you said, and then you were crying again. “I couldn’t. Oh, they’re dead, and he killed them, he killed them, and they only asked about me when he did. Why am I the one who gets to live?”

His hands traveled from your arms to the nape of your neck, the heels of his palms pressing into your jaw as he tried to force you to look at him. But you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t, you hadn’t been able to before and you definitely couldn’t now.

“You know Suguru better than anyone. Don’t you think there’s something else at play?” Gojo said. He wasn’t asking for you. He was asking for himself. He wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it was alright, that his best friend wasn’t the monster you both knew he was. How was it fair? How could you be expected to reassure him?

You shoved him off of you. “No.”

“Then why’d you let him go?” Gojo said. “You must’ve thought that there was a reason, or else you would’ve told me. It’s the only explanation!”

“No, it’s not! The only explanation is that I’m shitty and weak and stupid, and I can’t help but rely on him. No matter what I do, I’ll rely on him! People like you don’t understand what it feels like. You can stand on your own, but I’m not like that!” you said, and then you were grabbing his hand — he always did that, you noticed, always turned his Infinity off for you even now that it was an automatic, constant process — unfurling his fingers and jabbing his index finger at your forehead. “Do you get it? You were right. I don’t have a spine. I don’t have one at all!”

“Pull yourself together, Y/N,” Gojo said. “He’s still out there. We just have to reach him before the others do, and then we can talk to him. If it’s the both of us, then he’ll listen. He’ll explain everything!”

“He already did,” you said. “You just don’t accept it, but that’s different than him not explaining at all.”

“So what, then? You’re just going to go back to the school and live your life as normal?” he said, scowling at you. “How could you even think of doing that? In what world does that make sense? You can’t go back and pretend like nothing happened!”

“It’s true. I can’t,” you said, because it was the fact you had been avoiding since the day you first set foot in the school, which you had always known in the back of your mind despite how you denied it. “I can’t go back at all. I can’t be a sorcerer.”

It was a rare thing to see Satoru Gojo speechless. If it were a lesser occasion, you might have laughed at the way his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together in such a foreign way.

“Why not?” he said.

“I’m afraid I’ll follow him,” you said. “No, I know I will. If I stay, then I will definitely follow him.”

“You won’t,” Gojo said. “Follow me instead. Follow me if you have to, but you can’t leave. Not you, too.”

Another rarity: Satoru Gojo was afraid. Not of your absence, but of the changes it would bring. With Haibara gone, Suguru vanished, and then you…what would even become of the school? When so many pieces were taken away from it, could it even be considered the same place?

“I can’t end up like that,” you said. “I can’t even risk it. I became a sorcerer because of him; I’ll leave because of him, too. Anyways, you hate when I follow you. You prefer people who can stand on their own two feet. I know that about you now.”

“If you run away, I won’t forgive you for a long time,” he warned me.

“Then don’t,” you said, stepping away, though still facing him. “What good is your forgiveness, anyways? It won’t bring my parents back. It won’t bring Suguru back. I don’t even want you to forgive me, Gojo. I want you to hate me until you die.”

It was the last time you saw him for so long that his memory blurred away at the edges. The way he said your name, the way his hair shone in the sun, the slope of his nose and curve of his neck…once, these were things you might’ve been able to list with a great degree of accuracy. Not anymore, though. Now, if you thought of him at all, it was only that final image of him, framed by the headlights of that still-running car. It was not your name he had called out as you walked away from him, but something bitterer, a promise said with such sincerity it was all but a Binding Vow.

“Ten years,” he had said. “That’s how long I’ll hate you for. Not my entire life. Not until I die. Just for the next ten years.”

Life as an ordinary person was easy. Life without Suguru was harder. But you learned. You learned, through the years, how to stand on your own two feet. You learned how to live with only one shadow instead of two. You learned how to let your eyes adjust to light, gradually instead of all at once, so that it was an easy progression and free of pain.

There were times when you thought you had seen one or the other of the two who you had run from. There, across the street, was it Suguru reading the newspaper? Or in the bakery you walked past on your way to work, was it Gojo who was admiring the displays? They always vanished before you could grow close enough to ascertain their identities, though, remaining ever out of your grasp, existing as nothing more than phantoms in your periphery, refusing to let you forget the past entirely.

The first time you called Gojo was a year after you left the school. You weren’t expecting him to pick up, and when the automated message prompted you to leave a voicemail, you almost hung up in resignation. Something stopped you, though, and despite feeling entirely ridiculous, you cleared your throat.

“Ah, it’s Y/N. But I guess you probably knew that, considering you didn’t pick up. Well, I don’t have anything much to say, but I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing alright. I’m okay. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up, so I was planning on visiting their graves. I got a new job. Somewhere that I never would’ve expected to work when I was younger. It’s nice. I like my coworkers. They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but they’re fine enough. Anyways. Um. I guess that’s it. I don’t think you’ll call me back, but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing okay.”

It was a routine. Every year, on that day, you’d call him and leave him a voice message. He never once answered — you doubted he listened to the voicemails at all, either — but it soothed you to leave them, to leave one last connection to the world that had taken up so much of your life, and for so long.

More often than not, that time felt like a dream. If it weren’t for the thorned mourner’s bouquets which left pricks in your fingers or the ten calls you had made to Satoru Gojo, you wouldn’t have believed any of it had happened at all. Sorcery, curses, shadows and killers, best friends who betrayed you and boys you ran from, these were all things better suited to storybooks than real life.

Your mother’s favorite flowers had been roses, and you always made sure to bring some with you when you visited your parents’ graves. Roses for her and white chrysanthemums for your father, who had never had a preference for any particular flowers but was so sentimental that he would weep at any blooms being set by his headstone.

The roses were the ones that made the pads of your fingertips bleed, leaving bright red drops the same shade as their petals on the tissues you brought with you. You’d set the bouquet down and wrap your fingers with the tissues, watching as blood seeped through the thin paper, and then, without fail, you’d cry.

“It’s been so long without you,” you said, when enough time had passed that you could not be considered anything but an adult despite feeling like little more than a child. “It’s been so long, and I still don’t know what to do. Mother, father, I am grown now, yet constantly I wish I could ask you for advice. What was that song you’d always hum when I was tired, father? How did you make that tea of yours, mother? When did you know you loved one another? And a million other, sillier things. If I could think of nothing more pressing, I’d ask you about the weather, the time, and your plans for the weekend. I’d bid you a good morning and a good night. I’d complain about the rain and my job. Just as long as it meant I could talk to you again.”

You could not help it. You wept, bloody tissues fluttering to the ground as you ground your fists into your eyes, trying to stem the flow of your tears. Your breath came in quick, short gasps, and you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes in an attempt to lull yourself into a state of calm. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the only thing you could do, but it was not enough.

Someone’s hand settled upon your shoulder, and it had been so long since you had felt even a semblance of physical affection that you did not immediately bat them away. Instead, your own hands fell to your sides, your head hanging as you watched the newcomer set a bouquet beside the one you had brought. Orchids and lilies. Lovely, pale things that contrasted sharply with the red of the roses next to them.

“You said in your voicemail that you’d be here at this time. I hope it’s okay that I came.”

It was Satoru Gojo. He no longer wore the sunglasses you remembered him to; instead, a black blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and forehead, causing his pale hair to stick up like he had been shocked. He did not quite smile when he noticed that you were looking at him, but something resembling that expression crossed his face.

“Gojo,” you said. “Why are you—?”

“It’s been long enough,” he said. “You’re a really hard person to hate, Y/N L/N. I did my best, but it was difficult. I hope that you know that.”

“So you’ve come to, what, tell me you forgive me?” you said. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. It’s as I said: your forgiveness means nothing.”

“Nah,” he said, and then he was grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’ve come to bring you back to sorcery with me.”

“What?” you said. “No. I quit.”

“You didn’t quit, you ran,” he reminded you.

“That’s the same thing,” you said. He grinned. It was the kind of grin that would’ve blinded you when you were younger, but you found that it was not so brilliant anymore. You found you liked it even more than you once had.

“Not in my books,” he said.

“Gojo, I’m not strong enough. I can lead a normal life without you and Suguru and the others, but if you throw me back into sorcery, I know I’ll cave,” you said. “I’ll turn back into that cowardly little girl I once was. I’ll seek out that shadow which I’ve spent so long learning to exist without.”

He sighed, and then he poked you in the forehead. “Not the case. See, you didn’t even waver this time! I think you finally did it, Y/N. You grew a spine.”

“Why do you want me to come back?” you said. “I’m not strong like you. I won’t give you anything you don’t already have.”

“It’s selfish,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you because it’s selfish, and you’ll laugh at me.”

“If you don’t tell me, then I won’t even consider it,” you said. Though his eyes were covered by the blindfold, you could sense him rolling them based solely on the way he pouted.

“I’ve spent the last ten years hating you for leaving us �� for leaving me behind,” he said. “Everyone else was gone. I needed someone, but you left too, and then I really was alone. I want to drag you back into hell because I can’t face it by myself anymore.”

There were things left unsaid in that. Why you, for one? He could have anyone in the world, so why, after ten years, had he come to find you specifically? Why was it now that he could no longer bear the hell that was sorcery alone? But Gojo was not the sort who ever revealed his true self if he could help it, so you supposed those things would have to go unsaid for a little longer.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll come back, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?” he said.

“The next time I leave, or run away, or quit, don’t hate me for quite as long,” you said. “Don’t hate me at all. I know I told you that I want you to hate me until you die, but I don’t anymore.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you said, in a direct mirror of your previous exchange.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, then. Follow me.”

“Oh, that, too,” you said. “I won’t follow you. If that’s what you’re expecting, then you can forget about it. I cannot allow myself to follow anyone ever again. I cannot be that weak, or I’ll become someone I despise. Someone I don’t want to be, ever again.”

His expression morphed into one of shock, and then he did something so odd as to be beyond all rationality and logic. He beamed at you before patting you on the head. It wasn’t condescending; it was the kind of gesture that was like a promise, or a warning, depending on who you asked. Maybe in this case, it was both.

“It’s alright. Actually, it’s better if you don’t,” he said. “I like you more when you don’t follow anyone at all.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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vickyvicarious · 2 days

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"it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose."

The above passage is from May 16 after the vampire women tried to drink his blood, as he realized. Today on May 19 Jonathan writes three letters to be sent home (to Mr Hawkins) on various days of June, the final one being for June 29, the end of his life.

The thing I expected was for Jonathan to wonder why he's being kept alive after today/May 19th. Dracula is, as Jonathan said, his safety "whilst I can serve his purpose". But what is his purpose? Dracula had all his real estate papers signed on the 12th (when he ordered Jonathan to stay extra and that he'll take no refusal). He is actually fluent in English. Now, a steady stream of letters will be sent to Exeter throughout June, pretending that Jonathan's returning home.

Dracula can just kill him now, or just give him to the vampire women. No one would know. I'm sure he wants Jonathan first, claiming him and claiming the lion's share, but not now when he has months yet to leave. Then once, as Dracula said, he's "done with him" maybe he'll leave the rest to the other vampires.

But I wonder why Jonathan isn't wondering why he's being kept alive until the end of June. I suppose a Doylist reason is to not give the possible answer away yet, Watsonian being him fearing to speculate without answers?

Yeah, I've wondered this myself in the past. I think for me it comes down to a combination of several factors, since there really is no single quote that points to a specific reason Jonathan seems so convinced.

Before I get into those, I do want to mention that it is possible there is still some business to be done. It's a popular interpretation that they finish the last of that all on May 12, and it does make sense with the timeline. I personally believe it. But technically, I don't think Jonathan ever mentions them signing the final papers. He says he answers all of Dracula's questions, but that could be just referring to the ones in that conversation: "When he had satisfied himself on these points of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by the books available, he suddenly stood up and said:—" ...and then Dracula brings up him staying. Again, the interpretation that they finish all their work in that conversation is totally valid/likely. But if someone really wanted to argue that there is still some amount of actual legal work to be done, I don't believe canon says anything outright to the contrary.

That's not really my take though. Here are the reasons I think Jonathan believes he will survive until the end of June, in no particular order:

What Dracula said on May 16. He heard the Count drive the other vampires back with the words:

"Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done."

Now, in the moment, Dracula's line about having work to do seems most likely to be a fib just to get them to go. 'I'm busy, scram,' essentially. But he is very clear that he isn't done with Jonathan yet. (Though the fib about being busy itself could suggest that he might keep Jonathan alive and away from them longer than he himself needed/wanted to, just as a taunt/power play against these vampire ladies. But that's less relevant since he clearly does seem to want him still.) As you point out, Jonathan notes it himself, that he will be able to look to Dracula for safety so long as he serves his purpose. The fact that Dracula comes back within a couple of days to get him to write these specifically dated letters I think suggests to him that he is likely to stand at least a chance of serving that purpose until those dates. At least, it seems that way given...

Jonathan knows Dracula by now. He can probably tell just how much Dracula really enjoys him, and that said enjoyment is in many ways what's keeping him alive. Probably at least to some degree in a sense of enjoying his company, and that is somewhat relevant since he can play on that to stay interesting even when he's not outright useful/needed. But also, importantly, Dracula's particular brand of sadism comes into play here. He loves his mind games and multilayered conversations. He's been making jokes about his own undead/supernatural status basically as long as Jonathan has known him. He enjoys manipulating Jonathan. He enjoys giving him orders and warnings and then watching to see if he will obey or not. Jonathan has disobeyed significantly twice already, by trying to get into all the locked rooms and by sleeping outside of his room. And while he was discovering locked doors early on just while going about his business, he made no move nor seemed to have any particular designs/likelihood to sleep outside his room until Dracula brought it up first. Maybe you could argue that he's been looking more tired/likely to nap about as this nocturnal existence becomes more telling on him, but still there was no real build-up at all to the warning. Which is just one of the many reasons I read it as intentional bait.

So, knowing how Dracula likes to throw out these sorts of hints, I think it reasonable for Jonathan to think he will live that long. It would be just like him to use these letters to subtly tell Jonathan: no one will know where to look for you when you go missing, I could kill you long before with no consequences, but why would I if you play along and please me? ...so play. along.

There's also the fact that Jonathan may know when Dracula plans to leave. Now I certainly don't think he knows his exact itinerary or anything. Probably not even the date he expects to go, and just how closely it lines up with Jonathan's final false letter. But it seems entirely reasonable to me for the topic to have come up during all their work talk. There's a very good chance Jonathan knows that Dracula is planning on leaving for England in a month or two, or even just "around midsummer", etc. And if he does, I think he could add that in with the previous two points I mentioned to reach the conclusion that Dracula intends to keep him around until about when he himself is going to leave. (With the caveat, always, that Jonathan must make himself interesting/nonthreatening enough that he doesn't get bored before then.)

But finally, all those things aside... Jonathan has a tendency to fixate on things. In doing so he can miss other possibilities. And I think the encounter with the vampire ladies served to, somewhat despite himself, dismiss a lot of his fear of immediate danger from Dracula himself. He's aware that he is playing a long game under threat of being thrown the vampire ladies early, and kind of gets blinders to the fact that Dracula himself might physically harm him before then. This really reaches its height near the end of his stay with his seeming obliviousness to the possibility of Dracula biting him even when the guy outright says the "tonight is mine" line. And while I think he does get bitten and just doesn't remember it because that's often what can happen when a vampire entrances/bites you, his not recognizing the possibility beforehand is something that has made several people cry censorship (on a Watsonian level from Jonathan or Mina, and on a Doylist level from Stoker because he knew it wouldn't be accepted). But I think it can be attributed to a combination of Jonathan getting fixated on the ultimate threat (the women) and also on some level recognizing that if Dracula was going to give him to them after he was through, then he'd likely survive whatever Dracula planned for him anyway, so it wasn't as necessary to focus on. (Some of his single-mindedness definitely reads as more calculated at times.)

All this to say, Jonathan may just be overlooking the possibility that Dracula isn't planning to keep him around that long. That or he may be aware of the idea but is dismissing it without mention because it's totally unhelpful to dwell on. He has to approach the situation the same way regardless, fawning to please Dracula while looking for a chance at some other way out. He's stalling for time no matter what, so why not assume he has the most time it seems reasonable to hope for, at least in order to keep himself from completely breaking down and giving up before then. For some semblance of morale if nothing else. He's definitely not going to live past then, but maybe, maybe, until then.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #jonathan harker #count dracula #rikiteekeetavee #replies

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meowhara · 11 hours

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࿐.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒆

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ miguel o’hara x fem siren!reader

cw : blood and gore (not much but still)

synopsys : miguel's residence was a unique one, though nobody knew the existence of a deadly being inhabiting beneath it

It was always the same question whenever anyone visited his house. They’re always wondering why it was built like that. Some parts of his house where the tiles should be, were replaced by thick glasses. Clear enough to see the deep blue water underneath. His house was practically built over a gigantic man made body of water. It wasn’t an empty body of water either, there was life thriving underneath. The variety of fishes no matter what sizes or kind live there with coral reefs and underwater plants for the aquatic creatures to live in. Making a whole complete living underwater ecosystem.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?” Miguel huffed, his back facing the man that considered him a friend just because they met back in college.

“You. Look at this place.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” He popped open a bottle of fine alcohol and poured a glass for himself, then leaned on the kitchen’s counter before taking a sip.

“No… Not really.” The man reverts his gaze to the wide window behind Miguel. The marine life beyond that window was just stunning. For somebody like Miguel, having this kind of lifestyle wouldn’t be anyone’s first guess.

Miguel rolled his eyes from his reply, walking off from the counter with his drink before walking upstairs. “Would you mind leaving? I’m busy.” He scowled.

“Why? Are you hiding something?”

Miguel’s eyes twitched, isn’t he just polite?

He set himself down on a couch in the middle of the room. The living room was a unique one. There’s a spot where the tiles are supposed to be, left absent and empty. Leaving a literal two rectangular pool connected to each other’s ends, with a wide angle where an “L” shaped marine blue sofa that stretches for at least three meters long on both of its sides. A coffee table made out of thin marble with an oval shape in the center which was also in blue, decorated with gold lining.

The pool, oddly, is a wide one. It was made so that a whole human could slip through it, rather than for decorational purposes. Nobody really pointed it out in the past though, it seems to be a normal thing for anyone to have in their home if they had the money for it. Most people would drown from how deep the pool is if they're not careful. The bottom of the pool was out of the question from how deep it was intentionally made.

The ceiling was high above with water flowing down, forming a thin wall made out of water. Flowing down onto the same pool in the middle of the room. Tall windows on one end of the house, showcasing the breathtaking beauty of Nueva York, especially at night.

His eyes focused on the ill-mannered man he barely knows. Watching each one of his moves carefully.

“Don’t you have a Girlfriend?”

“Broke up.” He answered quickly as the man stood before him after he finished strolling around uninvitedly.

“How did you get your hands on these types of creatures anyway? I’ve never even seen some of the fishes you have swimming around underneath these tiles.” He tapped his feet onto the transparent material underneath his feet. The fishes swam away from the loud thumping noises of his feet.

“I have my own way.” He spoke before taking another sip.

“Illegal?”

“No.” After a long pause, he continues, “Would you mind doing me a favor?” Miguel added.

“What favor?”

“Taking a few steps away?”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged, “Personal space.”

“Geez.” Unsuspectingly, he took a few steps back until his feet were almost touching the edge of the floating platform.

A low whistle escapes Miguel’s mouth seconds before a creature with high speed emerges from underneath the water. Slamming the unsuspecting man into the ground, knocking air out of his lungs. He felt its sharp fangs digging into his flesh with the creature’s weight pushing him forcefully onto the ground. A creature with a human-like body and a massive fin instead of legs hisses their sharp fangs at him, their hair long with water dripping down. Its eyes are as dangerous as the dark mysterious sea, ready to devour him at any second. The man’s eyes widened in sheer panic as he tried to push whatever it was away.

A smile plastered across the host’s face. Calmly sipping all the remaining wine into his system with his back relaxing against his seat. The man screamed, fighting for his life. He even begged for Miguel to save him. But he was too busy watching your beautiful form ripping flesh out of your prey’s body with your mouth. Watching his pet feasting on her favorite meal of the day. His screams died down eventually. The scene was a complete mess, chunks of meat everywhere with a mixture of blood and water splattered across the floor.

Miguel set the empty glass in his hand down before standing up and closing the distance between the both of you slowly. When you saw him approaching you and your meal, you hissed at him.

“Easy there, cupcake.” He scoffed, “I’m not going to steal him away.”

He stood there as you possessively dragged the remaining of your meal back into the pool. Drowning it with you. “That brat.” The word came out from his mouth followed by a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“Lyla, clean this shit up for me.” He commanded the programmed woman.

“You're spoiling her Miguel.” She complained, her hollow body flickering in the dim lit room.

“I'm not. My baby got what she deserves.”

This has been going on for a pretty long time. People disappeared after entering his home, especially the uninvited ones. Although, there are some exceptions. There is someone that loves crashing into his place.

“How many times did I tell you to stop coming here?” His arms crossed over his chest as he scolded the only person that would leave his abode unharmed.

“It's not my fault you made this place very interesting.”

“That was not a reason for you to keep coming here every time I went to work.”

“Aww, don't brothers share?” Gabriel teased.

“I hate you.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“I won't be coming here ever again.”

Miguel raised his eyebrow, unamused by his little brother's promise.

“I won't be coming here ever again, if you let me have a party here.”

“No.” He didn't even think before the answer left his mouth.

“Then I'll pester you until the end of my life.”

“Go on then. I would rather you bother me rather than inviting people here.”

“Come on, my friends would love this place.”

Miguel's eyes were not focused on him after he saw a glimpse of your eyes inside the pool from where he's standing. He saw the hunger in your eyes upon looking at his brother, a tasty meal for your kind. He knew this would happen that's why he never invited anyone over except for your feeding time every once in a while.

But there's no way he would let you feast on his own family, he shook his head with a serious look on his face. He knew that you would listen to him either way, so he sighed as he watched you disappeared before his eyes.

“If you still want to live, leave.” Miguel spoke with a firm tone in his voice.

“But—”

“I said no to your stupid party and that's final. Leave before I told Lyla to never let you in here ever again.”

“You would ban me from coming here just because of this?”

“Gabriel.” He warned, insisted on letting him stay and telling him the reason why was never the best move to pull no matter what the situation is. Miguel watches as he leaves, listening to his brother swearing under his breath before the door shut by itself. The sound of small waves of water followed by ripples of water made Miguel turn his body to look at your head peeking out of the pool with a frown evident on your face. Breaking his heart from how sad you look after not getting what you wanted, he hates disappointing you.

Your eyes were fixed on the door, hoping your walking food would come back. “I know baby, I know. I'm sorry, okay? But you can't eat him.” He lowers himself to touch your face, gently caressing your cheek. You keep your head fixed on the door without hissing at Miguel. Human language is a foreign one to your ears, you can't understand anything, just a few basic words. Miguel was fully aware of this so he repeated himself. The certain word will always taste bitter to his mouth when it comes to pleasing you. “No baby, you can't eat him.”

Your frown worsens from the word ‘no’. You're not sure what it means, all you understand is that every time the word escapes his mouth, he won't let you get what you desire. “I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

After that, he fed you even more men to satisfy your hunger. Their bodies sunk into the abyss of water where the monster he fell in love with abode.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderverse #siren #siren reader

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snowforpresident · 2 days

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Harringrove Snuggle Session

Billy was, to say the least, having a rough day. His late-night shifts at the hospital had finally started to take a toll and honestly, He missed his boyfriend, Steve. The two had graduated Hawkins High School and immediately moved to California, wanting to get away from abusive parents and bad memories. Steve took up a babysitting job, which always had him beaming when Billy got home from his internship at the hospital.

Billy sighed as he opened the front door to their small one-bedroom apartment. They'd upgrade later, when Billy started getting more income. Billy could hear Steve in the kitchen finishing dishes from lunch he presumed. Billy smiled when he saw the other man, standing Infront of the sink in a pair of sweats and a hoodie, his hair damp from a shower Billy guessed. Steve hummed when Billy hugged him from behind, nuzzling into the hair at Steve's nape.

"Hey there," Steve giggled, tilting his head back and laughing shutting off the water.

Billy hugged him tighter, groaning low.

"Rough day?" Steve asked gently, turning in Billy's arms to look him in the face.

Billy stepped back and nodded, a tired look in his ocean blue eyes.

Steve hummed, placing one hand on Billy's bicep and one hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down. "Wanna talk about it?"

Billy inhaled, "Honestly? No. I just wanna go to bed."

Steve smiled, tilting his head. "We can do that. If you want to head up and get ready, I'll finish here."

Billy nodded, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to Steves's lips, causing the shorter male to sigh. Billy stepped away and headed down the hall into their small room. Shedding his clothes until he's only in his boxers, he crawled in bed, laying on his back. The covers stopped at his waist. He rested with one hand on his stomach and one above his head. After a few moments, the bed dipped next to him. Billy looked over, smiling when Steve snuggled into him, intertwining their hands on Billy's stomach.

Billy sighed contently, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes.

Steve's head turned, and a soft kiss was pressed to Billy's tummy.

Billy sometimes had a rough day. But the end of his day was always perfect.

#harringrove #writers on tumblr #cuddling & snuggling #lgbtqia #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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captain-mj · 7 hours

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Absolutely begging for more of the jealousy trope you just posted. That was so good holy shit. Even if its just headcanon or something, thats such a fun snippet you posted. (If not thats ok but figured it was worth a shot since I adore your writing sjekdwkdkdk)

I can deliver that!

Soap wasn't sure when his crush on Ghost started. He didn't really have a moment where it suddenly appeared. It was a very slow build that he could see throughout his journal.

Ghost himself was a good man. Kind to animals, even if he was a bit more prickly with people. Funny. Good listener. Strong. Attractive.

Soap adored him. Everything about him. His little quirks or problems. All of them just made up Ghost.

Recently, he had been avoiding being alone with him for too long. He had some... rumors. The idea of Ghost being with someone else drove him batty. He didn't own the man, though he certainly wanted to. They had known each other long enough though that Soap knew how to get Ghost on a topic.

Soap was lamenting that it had been a while since he got laid. It was just the two of them, with Price being elsewhere in a meeting and Gaz with the recruits. it was good, meant he could test the waters with Ghost. Right now, he was trying to gather intel over the rumors. He found if he was open about something, Ghost was a little more likely to be open back.

"Try harder." Ghost gruffed. "Plenty of willing bodies around here."

Soap paused. "Got someone on the side, Lt?"

"No." Soap bit the inside of his cheek as hard as he could to stay normal over this. Yes, there were rumors but this was close to a confession.

"Keep your mask on?" He prodded.

"Don't even get undressed." Ghost sounded amused, making a startlingly direct amount of eye contact with Soap.

Soap laughed. "What? You just take your snake out of your trousers there and go at it?" He was seething. All internally of course. He went through everyone Ghost interacted with in a day to day basis. Scanned through every interaction to see who made it clear what they wanted from Ghost. God, they weren't like Soap. There was no way they appreciated it enough. Soap would.

"Pretty much."

"Not much of a romantic, are you?" What a shame. He was sure he could convince Ghost to give him the chance.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at him. Soap realized he must've hit a nerve. "No one here wants romance. Least of all with me. They want to get off and get me off and that's where it ends." He looked down at Soap's clear hard on in his pants. "And I can see you're no different. Wanted me to fuck you, Johnny, you could've just asked."

Soap can feel his cock leaking in his pants. "Yes. Please."

Ghost rolled his eyes. "Fucking slag." He got up and walked away with Soap following right on his heels.

Soap couldn't help the grin on his face. After a round or two, he would convince Ghost to do it again with him later. He was sure he could play Simon like a fiddle.

"Oh, God please, Simon." Johnny had his face buried in the pillow as Simon thrust back into him. "You're so big." He was wrong. This man was a demon of some kind. He had come here to swallow Soap's soul and replace it with his fucking cock.

"I love flattery." Simon purred, pulling him back again. Johnny came hard, body tensing so much he worried he'd snap.

"Fuck, fuck, it's so good are you even close?"

"Nope." He popped the p at the same time he thrusted in deep, grinding a little.

Soap groaned. "Don't know how much longer I can take it."

"It's okay. Lot of people can't. I can always-"

Johnny arched his back and clenched tight around him. "No. No. Come on, you want to finish in me don't you?" He didn't want him to go to anyone else. No one else.

"Jealous aren't you?" Simon whispered before leaning down and sinking his teeth into his shoulder.

Johnny came again. And he teetered on a third. Everything shifted until all he could feel was Simon. Simon. Simon. Simon.

The stretch. His fingers. God, the way he smelled.

Simon thrust in hard and came finally. His hips rolling against him until he dragged every ounce of his own pleasure from Johnny.

"I haven't had sex in two years." Ghost informed him. "You never had anyone to worry about."

Soap glared at him.

"Those rumors were fake, love. But I promise, I'm all yours." HIs mask hit the floor with his shirt following shortly after

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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inkyvendingmachine · 3 days

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Avedone With All of This Season 4, Episode 4

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

GUESS WHO FINALLY SHOWED UP!!! and also a lot of other stuff happened. I'm sorry, this one is very long because I didn't take notes, and struggle to leave out details when I'm writing from the records instead of the notes.

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

Somehow Jack’s car, with all its original passengers and no extras, manage to make it back to the studio. Joey immediately rushes into the studio, to go rant at Bendy about everything that happened… and possibly to go fuse with Bendy because he feels utterly helpless now after completely draining himself with panicked magic.

But it’s probably just the first one.

Sammy and Henry arrive as well to find Jack and Peter quietly picking glass out of his broken car in something like shock. Upon getting no responses from Jack about what happened, Sammy storms off to find Joey.

Joey is all too happy to start his entire rant over again for Sammy as he works on fusing with Bendy. They were just following Peter’s leads and driving from location to location and then all of the sudden this ASSHOLE shows up out of nowhere and just stands in front of the car. Busts the car, terrifies poor Jack, and then on top of that tries to break INTO the car and abduct Peter?? It’s a good thing Joey managed to blast him out, but they weren’t even DOING ANYTHING that would have possibly summoned him NOTHING AT ALL... And on top of all that, being an absolute PRICK as he’s doing it!

… Anyways, how was the moooob?

Sammy updates Joey on everything that happened with Johnny Nero, which is pretty much just that he had seen the Yellow sign, that Henry removed it, and that Nero was pretty intent on getting his hands on whatever the Phantom wants first. Which like… yeah, if you wanna solve all our problems and fix this mess, go ahead! But Joey’s pretty sure that’s not going to happen, so he goes back to working on his ritual.

Sammy leaves to go back to Jack, and right as Joey feels ready to start the ritual his phone rings. The special one. And it’s… Avedon??

Avedon immediately starts info dumping on Joey about everything that’s been going on already… like, all the information Joey already knows. A lot of flat “yeah?”s in reply as Avedon rambles on, until he mentions that it’s already gotten to Norman. Wait, what?? But Avedon doesn’t stop, telling Joey to meet him at his hotel room in NYC so they can go over more information. Before Joey manages to get any clarification, he hangs up.

That’s Joey’s thing!!!

Joey is the one who hangs up on others!!!!!!!

Frustrated, Joey does try to call Norman, and… Yeah, Norman is talking in weird riddles and speech that doesn’t fit with the Normal Norman Vibes. That call is also ended with little information gained… but at least it DOES seem like Avedon knows what he’s talking about this time, so Joey’s willing to meet with him, even though he’s also feeling done with him already.

Joey finishes the ritual and merges with Bendy.

On his way downstairs, Sammy is still turning over the car event he just heard about… and the increasing evidence that Peter might actually be the Phantom’s target?? Why else would he be trying to drag him out of the car?

Sammy approaches Peter, who has since started exchanging information with Henry as they all get the last of the glass shards out of the car, and says that he wants to see if Prophet can tell anything about what happened. Sammy looks distracted for a moment, and [lack of surprise because it was actually somewhat communicated beforehand,] Prophet is here!

Prophet concentrates, and with no hesitation, mushes his hands all over Peter's face.

The good news is that, while Prophet can tell that Peter’s been grabbed by the Phantom recently, that’s actually all that he can detect. No additional eldritch stuff, he’s not possessed, he’s not weirdly marked or damaged in a way that can’t normally be seen. Great!

But Prophet can’t tell if Peter is the target or not. For his part, Peter has been muttering that it seemed like the phantom was trying to pull information from Peter on someone else he was looking for, someone who “followed us out”, but there’s nothing Prophet can sense to confirm that… but he realizes he can sense the distortions to reality increasing throughout NYC. They’re in the air, moving about… getting stronger.

Henry can feel it too.

But that’s all the energy Prophet has, and he unfortunately misses Joey showing up and dumping his new plan of action on everyone. He, Henry and Peter are going to go find Avedon’s dumb hotel room and figure out what’s going on with him, while Sammy and Jack are going to go check up on Susie and Norman because Norman is definitely acting weird now and he’s not quite sure if Susie is in over her head or not…

Nobody objects to the plan. And with NYC losing more and more of its reality to the yellow mist rolling in, it seems important that they do something.

Henry, Joey and Peter do make a detour to Henry’s house though to make sure all is well there. The car is gone, the lights are out, things seem as they should if Linda managed to follow through and get the kids out of the city. Peter is concerned when he notices some of Henry’s wards, but don’t worry, those are supposed to be there. Henry checks them over, and they all seem good. Bendy finds a bucket of clay he and Henry's kids had played with before, and brings it along to entertain himself on any following sleepovers, since that is a thing that will probably keep happening. For once, it seems like everything is actually left alone?

Until they look out back and find the treehouse Henry built for his kids is gone. Actually, it’s almost like all the landscaping and such in the area was just… cleared away? Or never happened. Joey meanwhile is tabbing through Henry's photo albums and makes sure everyone is still there, which they are. But the treehouse isn’t. And, perhaps even worse, there’s also an extra guy in the JDS staff photo now? Joey pockets it, since this guy seems to be in the music department according to the photo, but Joey is sure he’s never seen him before. And it’s not Alan. So. Hopefully the music boys can shed some light on this.

Henry grabs some supplies and his gun, and Joey turns him around to fix his outfit and make sure the gun is properly hidden. Avedon is 2 trigger happy, we don’t want to say our hellos by instantly showing off the weapons we brought.

Meanwhile Jack and Sammy’s drive to Norman’s is more fraught than the previous ones. Not only has he moved house again, (though at least this time they have evidence of his new address from the junk mail they took last time) but… many other roads are starting to move too. Also Sammy is driving, so, speed has been cut in the engine department too… don’t need to hit two things in a single day with all this mist building up, and any sort of navigation trouble puts even more delays in.

At least they do manage to find the place and head on in, with hope that also maybe now that Avedon has arrived Norman will stop being so “sticking it out in a house that keeps wandering off apparently.” Things seem kinda fine at first at least, like they’re not immediately shooed out or attacked or have any weird monsters hanging over the house waiting for them to try the door… But upon Sammy questioning Susie while Jack goes to find Norman in the back, the music boys find out that things are very much not fine.

Susie is… very confident with a knife all of a sudden, and very confident that she will be able to just stab the Phantom when given the word to go out and hunt him down. Y’know just… stab the guy who couldn’t be damaged by a 2 ton vehicle slamming square on into him. And when Sammy tries to argue this logic, it just becomes more and more obvious that Susie and Norman are both… in character. Susie’s speech cadence is even reminiscent of when she’s performing rather than talking normally. But they don't seem aware that their actions seem more scripted than decided.

Jack finds Norman in the back, with a hatchet and a very similar plan to Susie’s. But whatever is happening isn’t strong enough to make them completely forget themselves, and with some facts being pointed out and reminders of who they are, the boys manage to get these two actors back to themselves... kind of. There's still some weirdness going on, and this also doesn't answer the question of what could be done to prevent this happening again?

Neither Susie nor Norman really realized when it started to happen, and it took some serious outside convincing to snap them out of it at all… Do they need Henry to expel something to truly get back to themselves again??

ALSO, IF THE PHANTOM CAN’T BE HARMED WITH A CAR, WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO ABOUT THAT TOO?? THAT SEEMS CONCERNING!!!!

Meanwhile, Henry parks near the hotel they were directed to by Avedon, and the trio look upon it in… concern. First of all, it doesn’t even look like a hotel, or look like it belongs in NYC. And the entire place is surrounded by a yellow mist… and while they could wait it out or try to somehow call Avedon and tell him to come out, it just feels like the longer they wait the worse it will get.

Really, it’s starting to feel that way for a lot of things.

But even though everything about this feels bad, they press on and enter the “hotel”. What should be the hotel lobby is abnormally empty, and when they start up the stairs… well, that’s not normal either, the stairs just keep going. Joey is flipping any rugs he finds though to make sure they don’t have stupid destabilization spells underneath them.

After a few rounds of strange rooms, weird hallways, some alien screeching outside the windows, and Henry noticing that NYC is not the city outside said windows, he stops everyone out of worry that they’re walking into a trap… and Joey agrees. But not that this hotel is specifically a trap.

All of New York is a trap.

It doesn’t matter where they go next, the longer they don’t solve this issue, the more of a trap everything will be.

They just gotta press on.

…

Aaaaand start yelling for Avedon because clearly they aren’t gonna be just walking up to his hotel room at this point.

Good news! Avedon replies! Bad news!! Only Henry can hear it for some reason!! And… Avedon can hear Joey but not Henry??

It’s all very confusing. They find Henry’s reading glasses on a table. Those were in his pocket how did they get there excuse me. All of this isn't fine actually.

But after a few rounds of Avedon Polo, they finally stumble across each other in a… garden. In the middle of a hotel. And of course, the first thing Avedon says is that they need to leave immediately. He didn’t know it was going to be like THIS, he just stepped out to get a coffee and suddenly the whole place is weird??? Well, now that they’re here, time to immediately leave because YEAH THAT WAS THE PLAN FROM THE START.

Going through another door leads out into a familiar courtyard, at least familiar to Joey. He had been here a few nights ago, while invading Y’s dream, and indeed, right where he’d expect, he finds the Y twins chatting amongst themselves. Marching up to them, Joey demands to know what they’re doing and what’s going on.

They respond by addressing him as royalty.

✧･ﾟ: *Joey Drew, as Your Highness･ﾟ: *✧

Normally, this would probably inflate Joey’s ego! Currently, it sinks like a stone into his stomach!! He does not want to be part of the play!!!

Unless…

Joey suddenly wonders, because it’s the same courtyard, if they are in a dreamscape of some sort… Does he appear different than himself… and that's why they're addressing him this way?

But no, he looks like Joey, and Henry looks like Henry, and Peter looks like Peter, and Avedon is still here… except Joey also notices some of their hands are starting to turn transparent…………. That's probably fine.

He still doesn’t want to be part of their play.

The Y twins try to get Joey to go somewhere with them, and he makes up a story why they need to not do that rn, so that the group of normal fading humans can attempt once again to leave this place.

Since it's all weird here, Joey tries his little will-what-he-wants-into-reality trick and… well it doesn't work. Instead, he finds a throne room?? and realizes that they aren’t just in Carcosa, they’re in the castle where the Yellow King’s play takes place. And Joey manages to follow his intuition from here to find some kind of portrait hallway, covered with familiar faces… all labeled as characters from the play. Not recognizing all of them, Henry starts drawing them so we have a record of it later.

But there's a few he doesn't have to draw.

One is Alan Leroy, the guy that they're becoming sure is the target of the Pallid Mask. Part of the royal family, apparently. He's a slender man, black hair slicked back, young looking, quite pretty … kinda looks like Joey…

Which makes more sense perhaps when the portrait of the eldest son in the royal family is none other than Joey himself. Guess this is why he was being addressed as royalty… but that means the Y twins are not quite in their right minds, and anything he finds them doing here is probably just play nonsense.

Also Denis is the youngest prince but who cares about that guy.

What they DO care about is the fact they’re getting more and more transparent, so the boys go to find Avedon, who is oh so helpfully knocking shit over and muttering in french, and Joey manages to get his door trick to actually work this time; he opens the door and there’s…

STAIRS!!

Everyone starts running down them, managing not to get turned around when they start making twisty turns, and get to the front door of this stupid castle in a hotel lobby.

They peek outside.

Sure enough, on the side of the building, there’s a shadow shaped suspiciously like nothing they can really identify, so it must be some sort of angel monster or something.

At this point, there’s really only one option they have: try sneaking to the car and hope it’s looking the other way, and if not, run!

Everyone agrees that this is a great plan.

And then they do that.

There’s a bit of fumbling in the middle, but the car was parked outside of the yellow mist for once, so the creature just fades out as soon as it leaves the mist to chase them.

Well! Okay then!! That problem is solved!! Let’s go deliver Avedon to Norman so that he can take responsibility for his mad man and then maybe stop hiding at home or something!

Henry drives off, and things seem fine for now…

Until Joey swivels around in the front seat to question Avedon, and out the back window, sees something flying after them, only visible whenever it passes through the mists…

Problem… not solved.

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #henry stein #sammy lawrence #jack fain #susie campbell #norman polk #peter sunstram #the prophet #francois avedon #SORRY FOR THE LONG DELAY #We had stuff delaying the cthulhu games and then i forgot to take notes #and then i got delayed by school #we're still going though and boy howdy do we have plenty of fun updates to share still #also sorry it is so long lmao

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