#someone* I consider close can just drop me for whatever reason

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

#mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #don’t mind me just sobbing and wailing #they make me SO??????? #the softness. I am Melting

[cobragardens]

Notes on the Scene in Job's Basement

Crowley is not tempting Aziraphale here. He's experimenting on him.

Getting Aziraphale to sin, or even getting him drunk, is not Crowley's intent in this scene. Eating food, taking pleasure in food, drinking alcohol, and even being drunk are not sins in most of Judaism or Christianity (and they're certainly not sins in British Christianity, regardless of any church's doctrine). When Aziraphale turns down alcohol, Crowley just suggests he try food instead; so it's not important to Crowley what Aziraphale tries, but it is important to him that he try something.

This scene is also the first time (chronologically) we see that Crowley likes to drink and likes to be drunk.

We know from

and from

as well as from Book Omens and Word of God that angels have no instinct beyond curiosity pulling them toward eating or toward gender. From this we can reasonably presume they have no instinct toward Beverages either.

That means that in this moment--

--Crowley is very likely the only metaphysical entity he knows on either side of the divide, or even knows of, who has ever experienced a physical pleasure.

And he probably has some Lingering Questions about it, like we all did the first time a physical pleasure blew our minds. Like,

Is it this strong for everyone?

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I going to hurt myself if I do this, like, a lot?

And it's not like the poor creature can ask anyone, because the answers for humans aren't necessarily going to apply to him.

So when he sees an opportunity, Crowley gets that one angel he knows who'll talk to him to try a human thing, and then he watches to see if physical pleasure hits the angel as hard as it hit him.

And that's why he looks so creepily pleased when it does.

Apparently it is this strong for everyone and there isn't anything wrong with him. Now he can relax and get sloshed without worrying, and he even has someone to talk to about how rad human stuff is.

A Dip Into Speculation

We know because we're shown this isn't the first time Crowley has gotten drunk that, watching Aziraphale, Crowley understands what he's seeing. I think it's really interesting that Crowley doesn't laugh at Aziraphale at any point during this scene, and he doesn't correct the way he's eating, either.

Maybe it's because this is what it was like for Crowley the first time. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and woke up in a puddle of his own sick. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and didn't wake up at all, and there was Paperwork and he had to get used to a whole new corporation just when he'd got the hang of having legs in the old one. Maybe somebody had to show him how to use a fork or whatever they had going on for eating utensils in Ancient Mesopotamia. I distinctly remember having to learn as a small child to chew with my mouth closed. There is every possibility Crowley doesn't consider the way Aziraphale is eating to be worthy of ridicule because whatever Crowley did the first time was worse.

Maybe he wants to leave Aziraphale set up for later embarrassment over his table manners. Aziraphale was a judgy bitch about the wine.

Or maybe it's something like Let him have this one. There can be rules to it later; let him just enjoy it, once, like a little kid with both fists in their birthday cake.

Maybe it's desire. There is some textual evidence for this. Once Aziraphale learns to eat properly, the way he does it is very attractive, and we know Crowley loves watching him do it.

I don't think it's overreaching even to interpret David Tennant's physical performance of Crowley watching Aziraphale eat as one of sensual or erotic pleasure. I mean--

I'm not saying it absolutely has to be erotic, but it's not a reach, or even a full extension of the elbow, to read it that way.

There's another meta somewhere [I'll link it when I find it again; if you know this meta, please drop it in comments!] that discusses how this exchange in Job's basement is filmed like an erotic scene.

Like Crowley, we all want to kiss this face.

Aziraphale isn't eating prettily, but he's eating lewdly, ravenously, desirously, and it's lit like romantic sex, not like gluttony. Whether that's funny or poignant or hot may depend on the viewer. Here's how Crowley's handling it:

Srs tho, any frame of this scene could have been painted by Artemisia Gentileschi.

Or maybe--and this is my favorite of the available interpretations--maybe this is what it was like for Crowley the first time and he doesn't interfere because he wants Aziraphale to come out of this as someone who's had the same experience Crowley's had so Crowley won't be so totally alone in having had it.

#good omens #good omens s2 #companion to owls #good omens 2 #good omens job's basement

[impishjesters]

Aggression Distraction

warning(s): canonical character..death? (it's Kaufmo), nondescript type of panic/anxiety attack (honestly the whole thing glosses over exactly what type of mental state you are in, just that you aren't doing so hot after that experience), cursing, minor suggestive content note(s): This can be read stand-alone but goes in hand with my previous post about Jax with a partner (platonic or romantic) who suffers from depression/suicidal tendencies. Can be read as platonic or romantic but written with more romantic intention in mind, consider it like pre-dating romantics or whatever. A/N: It's worth mentioning that Jax's behavior is a little back and forth, which is intentional. This stuff is new territory for him, but you matter to him so he's trying to be a rock for you, he's just gonna be a little shit while doing it though. ♥ AO3 version

With the latest addition of Pomni and the recent departure of Kaufmo, things had taken a slight turn from the usual day-to-day. You weren’t particularly close to Kaufmo, but to see him abstracted like that? Someone you knew, for god knows how long to just..stop existing like that?

It was horrifying.

As nonchalant as Jax had been over the whole thing like he’d seen it a million times, it had yet to leave your brain. Even days later. Days? It’s still hard to tell the passing of time.

Jax had taken notice when your gaze lingered on Kaufmo’s old room, the large red ‘X’ over his face. Every time he’d swing by your room to pick you up or drop you off he’d catch you staring, and he knew it wasn’t a good thing. Sure, nobody really liked Kaufmo, and you knew him for an even shorter time than them, but he had an inkling what had you so..distracted for a better term.

The first day or two after the events left everyone a little thrown off. Pomni stuck by Ragatha like a little duckling, Gangle had taken to trying to fix her comedy mask, Zooble did whatever Zooble does, and Kinger? Yeah, nobody cared what he did. But you? You distanced yourself or tried to at least, Jax was never far behind.

It was sweet really, he’s still getting the hang of this whole situation the two of you got going on and it’s been going on for a while. Honestly? It’s almost scary how well he knows you and is able to silently confront you without you realizing something’s even wrong, like some weird sniffer dog.

The thought makes you giggle.

Jax’s head lifts and his gaze falls to you with a brow raised, it’s not the first time you’ve randomly giggled but usually there’s a reason, generally something he did. And he wasn’t doing shit worth giggling over. Waving him off that it’s nothing he shrugs it off and goes back to his little task that his torso is blocking.

To be honest, you aren’t even sure what he’s doing anymore, he kinda just showed up and said “I need my favourite doll for this new little prank, so get off your butt and come to my room.” And then proceeded to drag you off your bed and over his shoulder like a sack of rice into his room.

A prank that he has still yet to tell you if there even is one.

During the time spent together, there’s something you’ve managed to pick up in the way he always goes with the crowd. Sure there are times he’s alone, but it’s different, it’s like he wants to be alone compared to the times he seemed to be following others around simply because he didn’t want to be by himself. It was something you yourself used to do after all. Hanging out with people you didn’t really care about simply so you weren’t completely alone.

Now if you tried to confront him on this little theory, he’d no doubt make some comment about how he’s not sure if it’s sweet or creepy that you’re staring at him so intently. Then immediately follow up with some spiel about how he can’t watch funny stuff happen to others if he’s alone. “Think of all the funny shit I’d miss!” Or whatever.

“Are you ever going to tell me what this latest ‘prank’ is?”

“Mmm..” he hums as if debating, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell you it’ll be a—“nope!” Called it.

You wanna call him out that there isn’t even a prank, he’s not even doing anything other than sitting there polishing a…bowling ball? You sit up from your spot on his bed confused. “Is that.. the bowling ball from—”

“What you think I went back down to that creepy place just for this exact bowling ball?” he scoffs, this place has plenty of the damn things he doesn’t need that one.

As tempting as you wanna say yes, you know just how lazy and manipulative he can be. “You? No. Making someone else fetch it with some excuse about how it’s got meaning and worth to you? Now that I can see.”

His eyes squint as he throws a grin over his shoulder at you, one that looks almost painful if not for the fact that he’s almost always grinning.

“You know me too well sugar,” he turns to face you, bowling ball balancing in his hand like it weighs nothing to him, “but I hate to break it to you. This really is just a different bowling ball, but now you got me wanting to send Gangle down to see if she’ll actually do it.”

“Behave.” You playfully chide. It’d be hypocritical to say “poor Gangle” after all, you’ve also sent her on a wild goose chase once or twice, even if you felt a tad guilty later on.

He scoffs and places a gloved hand on his chest in mock offense. “I always behave. I’m the textbook definition of the word gentleman.”

“Oh yeah? In what book?” Slipping off his bed, you walk over to him and reach out to the bowling ball only for him to yank it out of reach. Even sitting the bastard has enough reach to keep anything away from you.

Jax waves his arm about every time you try to reach for the ball, there’s no real reason to keep it from you, he’s just fucking around at this point. Plus this little endeavor has kept you distracted and him mildly entertained. “Oh, now that’s just rude doll, have a heart.” You stop trying to get the ball and he waggles it at you like he’s trying to tempt an animal. “You don’t think I’m a gentleman?”

“A man? Yes.” You scoff and push the ball out of your face. “Gentle? Only when you want to be.”

He hisses and tosses the ball aside letting it roll away, no longer finding it fun. “So harsh, you really do wound me.”

You flinch at the loud thud, unsurprising at the lack of dent the ball should have created under normal circumstances. “Oh bite me.”

“Is that an invitation?” His shit-eating grin nearly splits his face in two, it’s a shame the others aren’t around, he loves seeing their reactions when the two of you banter like this.

Like an old married couple.

You roll your eyes and step into his personal bubble, one of his ears twitches out of habit and his shoulders tense but they gradually relax as you get yourself situated on his lap.

It takes everything in him not to spit out something insultingly sweet, he’s heavily aware of your mental state right now and that wouldn’t help. Though he really wants to joke about how this definitely seems like an invitation seeing as how you’ve walked into his bubble and made yourself at home on his lap. Maybe later.

Silence falls between the two of you, huddled up against him with your face buried into his chest. He pulls the blanket off his bed and drapes it around you, it’s not cold per say, but you had voiced once that you still liked the habit of curling up into a blanket. Specifically how you were a fan of blanket sushi? Much to his original confusion.

“You know I’ve seen some pretty gross things wrapped in seaweed, you by far are the grossest sushi-filling doll.”

To which your immediate reaction was to question whether or not he’d still try and eat you. That was definitely not something he thought would leave your mouth. Luckily his quick tongue bit back something along the lines of “Not while the playschool toys are around baby”.

Jax placed one hand on your back applying light pressure while rubbing small circles, the other falling loosely to rest on your lower back. Your arms tightened around him and he gave you a squeeze back, when you got too embarrassed early on to keep asking for him to squeeze you the two of you settled on this unspoken method of asking. And it wasn’t always limited to full-body squeezing either, you’d squeeze his hand, arm, or leg and he’d squeeze back.

The longer the silence went the more his irritation grew, not at you though, just overall irritation at the silence, at seeing you like this. Kaufmo’s abstraction itself wasn’t what had you like this, he knew you thought of it more like Kaufmo dying. Which, who’s to say that you weren’t wrong for thinking that? That thing wasn’t Kaufmo, and now he’s in the cellar doing whatever it is abstracted things do. If Caine couldn’t fix them they might as well be considered dead.

The topic of death and dying almost never came up in day-to-day conversation, maybe a joke here or there but nothing like this. And you were doing so well too.

If he had the ability to fall asleep he would’ve, not that it wasn’t cozy and domestic as shit being all huddled up with you, but he was getting bored. His leg began to wiggle, lightly bouncing you in the process, something you recognized as him being antsy and an unintentional aid in soothing you.

Another squeeze to the lilac torso resulted in another returned squeeze, except unlike the first time, the grip didn’t loosen. It wasn’t suffocating but grounding, the hand on your back stopped moving, and both hands were glued to your back to apply pressure like a weighted blanket. If asked, Jax would probably lay himself on you like an actual weighted blanket—but part of you felt like he’d enjoy that too much and force you into some shitty deal to get him off of you.

The thought sparked a tiny giggle, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Jax. What the fuck were you giggling about? Meanwhile, his ass is going numb (it’s not) sitting here holding you like he’s trying to wrestle a balloon and not pop it. Mood swings aside he’s grateful for the sound, it’s not much but it shows him you were coming out of it. Especially when the giggling starts to pick back up.

“What’s so funny you little brat? Finally gone bonkers?” It’s harsh but there’s a fondness in his tone that only causes you to giggle harder. The lost grin slowly returns to his face and he purposely jostles his leg harder now, bouncing you more chaotically.

The giggle turns into a full-on laugh and he can’t help but find himself grinning more at the sound. “Okay, okay! Enough jostling, I’ll lose more brain cells if you keep it up.”

“Oh, you still have those?” He chuckles. “Here lemme just.. shake those loose too.” Both of his legs wiggle, jostling you back and forth like a boat would, his arms caging you in so you don’t actually go flying.

You let out a squeal following more giggles and hold tightly to his neck until he comes to an abrupt stop. “Jeez, that’s a real workout on the legs..” he mumbles, letting out a little exhausted sigh.

“Hey you did that all on your own, you have only yourself to blame.” Your grip doesn’t leave him in its entirety as you shift on his lap turning sideways, he loosens his grip and grumbles out a “watch it” until you settle down.

After making grabby hands at the arm not trapped behind you he rolls his eyes and relents, giving you his newly free hand. It’s obvious that Jax is pushing his limit at both sitting still and being this vulnerable, and you could keep going on and just soak up the affection full well knowing he won’t actually blow up at you. The others however will pay the price of his pent-up aggression. Perhaps you could lessen that by…

You give his palm a few gentle prods with your thumbs like it’s a squish toy before bringing it to your face, moving it in such a way that allows him to take your jaw and squish your cheeks between his thumb and fingers.

And oh boy does he squish, a bit too roughly but it’s not unbearable as he moves your head side to side. He knows what you doing, letting him have some playful aggression with you to lessen what he’ll put the others through.

You’ve done it before but it rarely does much, he’ll play nice when you’re around then subject the others to his full bull shittery when you’re gone. It does give him a good chance to just fuck with you and squish those cheeks and rattle you around, you’re at his mercy and you happen to make some particularly cute little noises after all. It’s a nice and rare chance to soak up being able to have your face in his hand without him having to subject himself to any embarrassing vulnerable shit of outright asking to touch your face in such a.. intimate-like gesture.

His internal struggles are lost on you though, simply content on his lap, in his arms letting him squish and waggle your head around. You silently count down the minutes, or guesstimate the minutes until he’s had enough and lets you go. At least this time he has the decency to help you stand versus shoving you off his lap and onto the floor.

Jax brushes the imaginary dust from his clothes and puts a hand on his hip, gesturing the free hand towards you. “We done here babe?”

You nod, rocking back and forth before shaking your head. “Lean over real quick.”

He rolls his eyes and groans but does as asked, leaning over to be on your level. Before he can ask why he’s breaking his back you lean up and press a quick kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away and racing out of his bedroom.

The grin slips for a split second while he processes that you literally had him lean down, just to kiss him and then bolt. That face-splitting grin returns as he strolls out of his room just to see you at the end of the hall giggling like a maniac.

“You know what? I’ll give you a head start, better hope I don’t catch you!”

You bolt off with a squeal and he chuckles, maybe when he catches you he’ll just settle all that pent-up aggression toward you—he’s long overdue for an intense tease session after all.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 

Blood. 

There’s just so much of it. 

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 

And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head. 

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 

#john murphy x you #john murphy x reader #john murphy imagine #john murphy the 100 #john murphy #the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 tv #richard harmon #john mother fucking murphy #the 100 x reader #the 100 x you #maysileewrites

[berryunho]

THE ANSWER: XXVII

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

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You take in San’s words, blinking aggressively. You pull your face away from his, your questions clear from your expression.

San squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at you for too long. “I can’t explain it now. Or, well, I’ll explain it all soon, but we need to leave.”

“Leave? Like, the farm?” You question, your words coming faster than you can control them. “What? San? Did something happen?” 

He opens his eyes, then, staring into yours. The pain is evident in his face, his internal struggle still battling. 

“After today, I can’t predict what Hongjoong will do to get you to break.” San admits, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s going to hurt you, and if he can’t, he’ll kill you.” 

“What happened to you, San?” You ask, more concerned by his disheveled appearance than by the revelation of the thoughts that you’ve had hundreds of times. 

He shakes his head. “It’s not important, I promise. I’m fine.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “How do you feel?” 

“I’m fine, San, just shaken up, I guess. Do you know how Hongjoong did that?” 

His hands squeeze your forearms tighter, gripping you like he’s going to lose you. “I have no idea. But if he’s willing to go this far, I… fuck, I can’t believe it. I have to get you away from this.” 

You can only gape at him. You can’t believe that San is saying these things to you. San had always been so loyal to Hongjoong, even leading up to the very moments before the ceremony. What could possibly have made him flip his entire script so quickly? 

It’s almost touching to realize how much San must care for you. If he’s willing to abandon this for you… Fuck. 

“San, when can we go?” You try to not sound so eager, but the prospect of getting away is so sweet. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead before replying. “I have to think on it, but I swear that it will be soon. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure it out.” 

You want to ask what it is that he’s figured out or what made him realize, but that sits in the backseat compared to the thought that suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind. “What about Haseul? And Mingi?” 

San freezes, still searching your face. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, but no words come out. 

“San?” 

“I,” he pauses, biting his lip, “I’ll have to think about it more. We might have to come back for them.” 

You don’t like that idea, but you had thought it yourself a few times before. It would be a lot easier to get yourself out and come back with people that could actually stand a chance against this group rather than try and sneak out with someone else, risking all of your lives in the process. 

“Just trust me, yeah?” He smiles, letting go of your arms to readjust his shirt. 

You nod, throwing the blanket off of your legs. This is as good of a time as any to get out of the infirmary. Whatever had been going on with San, they must not care too much if you’re back with him considering the fact that he’s here now. 

Once San is reassembled, he offers you his hand again, helping you stand as you swing your legs off the bed. The two of you leave the room, passing by Nayeon as you walk down the hallway. She waves, smiling while you go. 

San drops your hand once you’re outside, but keeps one on the small of your back. He could reasonably pass that off as just helping you stay upright. 

By now, it’s mid-morning, almost 11. The sun is high and the fields— 

For the first time since you had arrived at the farm, you saw the farm equipment actually being put to use. A huge combine harvester moves through the field, still relatively close to the barn. You’re awestruck to actually see work being done, amazed that the time has passed so quickly. 

You halt in your tracks, lifting a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun so that you can watch the machine move. It doesn’t move particularly fast, but, by God, is it freaky looking. You wouldn’t want that thing coming to run you down, that’s for sure.

Which only reminds you of the time that you had tried to escape. And then resorted to hiding in the corn. 

When all of the corn is harvested, how will this place look? Barren. Cold. You don’t want to picture it; all that land with nowhere to hide. Will you even have to see it? Maybe you’ll be gone by then. 

A waving figure catches your eye off in the distance. You’re easily able to identify Yeosang once you look fully at him, and you raise your hand back in greeting, having to squint your eyes against the sun. 

San doesn’t wave back, instead ushering you to turn back toward the compound and keep moving. 

“Are we in a rush?” You ask, allowing him to steer you toward the door. 

San glances around, “I wouldn’t say that. But I’d feel better if we were alone in our apartment.” 

Well, okay, you guess. You would think that it would be a bit suspicious if you both suddenly started acting differently, but it’ll probably be okay for right now. At least until you can talk to San about everything. 

You head inside, trying to walk to the stairs. But you’re stopped before either of you can make the first step, a voice calling your name behind you.

It’s Wooyoung, you realize, before you even turn around to face him. 

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” 

You glare across the foyer at him, wondering what kind of nerve this kid must have to be talking to you like you’re best friends again. 

He has a point, though. You turn your attention to your stomach, but you’re not surprised that the general sense of nausea and unease still lingers there; nothing like hunger. “I’m not hungry.” 

You know better than to directly accuse him of drugging you again. You really don’t know if he did… it’s possible that he didn’t. But, really, looking back on it… Ugh, you’ll just ask San later. He had already told you what he thought, but… you don’t know. Just, whatever. 

Wooyoung squints, a flat expression on his face. “Are you feeling alright after everything? Not just anyone can say they stood down a Guardian.” 

That’s really rich, coming from Wooyoung, you have to admit. The guy that basically told you that you need to accept your role in this place because he isn’t happy with his, either. Maybe he’s trying to sympathize with you, as a fellow skeptic. You won’t take the “compliment” at face value, but you still don’t appreciate the remark. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” you shrug, hoping to end the conversation there. 

He doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll have someone run some food up for you guys.” 

San thanks him for you, clearly ending the conversation there. He ushers the both of you up the stairs and to your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you once you’re inside. 

You look around your apartment, almost expecting something to have changed, but nothing has. Everything is just how you left it this morning, not a single thing out of order. 

“Are we talking about this now, then?” You question, looking to San as he paces in front of the couch. He doesn’t stop pacing, but he does gesture for you to sit down, “you’re really worrying me, San.” 

He halts in place then, frowning, but not sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he lets his sentence hang in the air, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it.” 

“What happened to you while I was out?” You want to reach out and grab his hand, but you can’t, he’s moving too much. 

San starts pacing again, “well, first of all, sorry for disappearing on your right before the ceremony.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Seonghwa appeared out of nowhere and pulled me aside to talk about literally nothing and then, by the time I realized what was happening, the ceremony had started and I couldn’t have helped you.” 

He freezes, as if recalling the memory, “and then the ceremony happened. And, and that thing appeared. I hope to God that Hongjoong or Seonghwa or someone was able to explain that to you, because I can’t. I don’t know what that was, I’ve never seen anything like it or heard of Hongjoong—” he stops abruptly. “I mean that I don’t know how that happened. And I saw it grab you and I seriously, I thought that it was now, that, that Hongjoong had enough of you and— I thought you were going to die.” 

It’s only now that his voice falters, breaking with his last sentence. You’re no stranger to San’s emotions, but his tears always have an effect on you. To his credit, he does a good job of keeping it mostly together as he keeps speaking. 

“But then it was over, and you were on the ground, and I tried to stand up to go to you, but Seonghwa held me down, and I couldn’t do anything. I felt so helpless watching Hongjoong pick you up, watching Mingi run to his side to take you off of his hands and carry you out. I tried to get up again, but Seonghwa wouldn’t let me go. I almost fucking hit him.” He shakes at the memory, his voice thick with both anger and his tears. “We stayed there for a long time. We just waited until Hongjoong came back, and he sure fucking came back. He was incensed. Didn’t even say why. Even Seonghwa looked nervous as he screamed and bitched and threw shit around.” 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

“You will not take her from me!” Hongjoong screams, at neither man in particular. “I don’t care which one of you it is; I forbade it for a reason and I will be fucking respected!” 

Seonghwa doesn’t move an inch at San’s side. San doesn’t say anything, either.

Hongjoong’s rage permeates the chapel. “Why isn’t she scared? Why isn’t she terrified, whimpering and begging for her life at my feet?” He starts pacing up and down the aisle, kicking copies of The Answer that he had thrown to the ground. “Doesn’t she realize that I am the only thing standing between her and a cold grave?” He whirls to face the other two men. “Answer me!”

“I think she is scared of you,” San mutters, “but she’s good at hiding it in front of you.” 

Hongjoong’s face contorts into a smile, and San knows that he’s fucked up. “Is that it? How do you know, San? Do you hold her at night while she cries in your arms at my cruelty?” 

San only blinks, unable to respond in a way that would please his leader. 

“She doesn’t know about Haseul yet. What is she going to think when she finds out that her boyfriend let her die?” 

“Hongjoong—,” Seonghwa cuts in, “She can’t know about Haseul, even if you want to scare her. It’s invaluable for us to be able to hold this ove—”

“You will not tell me what I can and cannot do, Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong yells, “I am in charge here! I am! If I want her to know about Haseul, she will know about Haseul.” 

“Of course you are, Hongjoong, you don’t need to be so angry.” Seonghwa tries to console Hongjoong, to absolutely no avail. 

Hongjoong puts his palms together, resting his index fingers on his forehead as he thinks. “I cannot take this disrespect much longer.” 

The chapel remains in tense silence, neither San nor Seonghwa wanting to be the first to say something.

Apparently that’s not what Hongjoong wanted, either. “Seonghwa,” he gets the man’s attention, “hold San steady for me, would you?”

San knows what’s coming. Hongjoong’s had it out for him for ages, and this is finally it. He’s outlived his purpose, his presence is only backfiring, it’s time for him to go. He knew that it was coming, he should’ve known that it would be now. His death would utterly destroy (Y/n), there would be nothing for her to do except accept her fate. 

Seonghwa does as Hongjoong instructs, standing behind him to hold his arms in place. San doesn’t struggle. He has to be strong. Go bravely. That’s what he wants. 

But Hongjoong surprises him. He takes a step toward him, smoothing his own ceremonial shirt before grabbing the hem of San’s and pulling it out of his pants. 

Oh… San really hadn’t been expecting tha—

But then Hongjoong hits him. Just once. 

“We’ll see how she feels when you’re not so pretty.” Hongjoong spits, literally, onto the floor of the chapel. 

San can hardly hear him through the pain rippling over his jaw, but the message is clear enough. He doesn’t need a mirror to taste the blood, or feel it pouring down his chin. Seonghwa lets go of his arms and it takes everything in him to not double over. Instead, he looks up at Hongjoong, unintimidated. 

Hongjoong stretches his hand. “She asked for you, Seonghwa. Better go comfort her.” He glares up at him. “But not too well.” 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Of course, unbeknownst to you, San leaves the… sensitive details out as he recounts Hongjoong’s tantrum for you. Not a single word of Haseul is spoken to you, but the rest is mostly accurate. 

You sit in horror as San recounts these details to you, unsure how to even react. You’ve always known that Hongjoong is capable of violence, and Seonghwa, too, but to hear of them acting such violence onto San, of all people… it’s almost unthinkable. At some point in the not too distant past, Hongjoong had trusted San to watch over you at all times of the day, and now? His own paranoia has driven him to violence? 

Your thoughts wander to Seonghwa against your own better judgment. Seonghwa is his own person, he’s taking care of himself. He doesn’t want you meddling in his relationships, and he has made this more than abundantly clear. 

But how does Hongjoong treat him? It can’t be kind. You’ve seen the slights between them, seen Hongjoong deny Seonghwa of even the simplest pleasure. Behind closed doors, what do they talk about? How does Hongjoong act around him? 

Though you’re loath to admit it, you have to worry for him. If Hongjoong is violent with you, the person he considers to be one of the most important figures in his religion… that doesn’t bode well for Seonghwa. 

“San,” you bring your thoughts back to the present moment, “I’m so sorry that you went through that for me.” 

He doesn’t stop pacing, almost ignoring your sentiment all together. “Hongjoong is crazy.” 

“I’ve known that for a while now.” 

San smiles. Smiles. “I don’t think you understand the extent of it.”

You find that hard to believe, but there probably are things that San knows about Hongjoong that you don’t.

“But that’s not important for right now. I just need you to keep your distance from him as much as possible; I’ll ask Seonghwa for his help—”

“Seonghwa?” You’re astounded. “You’re going to ask Seonghwa to help us escape?” 

San shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not looking at you. “No, but he’ll keep you away from Hongjoong. That’s basically his number one priority, anyways.” 

It makes sense. If Hongjoong is as volatile as he was with Seonghwa and San earlier, he’s a danger to be around. Even more so than usual. But getting Seonghwa’s help… “Won’t it be obvious what we’re trying to do?”

“You already avoid Hongjoong,” San says. “I don’t think it will be a drastic enough change to draw attention, as long as you’re not refusing to see Seonghwa.” 

The way with which San says this last sentence… is different. He’s not stuttering anymore, you realize. He hasn’t been for a while, now. When San is upset, his stutter is more pronounced than anything else, its absence is suddenly so jarring that you have to wonder why you didn’t realize when it stopped. 

There’s no emotion in his voice anymore. No personality, no San. 

You stare up at him, watching him walk back and forth in front of you. He’s not upset, not anymore, at least. What is this? 

“San.” You try to get his attention. “Are you alright?” 

He finally stops walking, if just for a second, to give you a good look at his face. “I’m fine,” he states. His eyes aren’t red, his breathing is perfectly even, his expression flat. “Why do you ask?” 

“You’re scaring me,” you say. “What’s going on?”

San resumes his pacing. “You should be scared, I should be scared, I should’ve been this whole time; But I’ve been so stupid and now isn’t the time for me to be some sniveling boy.”

You can’t respond to that. 

“I think I know when we can try to get out. I’m not going to fail you this time, (Y/n), I swear.”  

“San, wait, hold on,” you start, shaking your head, “what about your laptop? The phones? Can’t you just call the cops?” 

San smiles tightly, “I considered it, but there would be issues. Hongjoong has a plan, and things would not end well if law enforcement got involved and Hongjoong had more than five seconds to think before he was arrested or killed.” 

“So you’re seriously proposing that we run away, leaving everyone else here… forever… including the children?” 

“Would you rather be alive and here or dead and buried?” San blinks. “That’s what this comes down to for the rest of the group. We can find a way to get Mingi and Haseul, but it’s not feasible to save everyone knowing that Hongjoong has a plan for this exact situation.” 

Your stomach rolls over itself as he explains this. How can you just leave? How could you leave everyone behind and forget about them? How could San even suggest something so horrible?

The thought of freedom is enticing, but the weight that would remain on your conscience… It makes you sick just thinking about it now. 

Whatever. Fuck San. You’ll remedy the situation yourself once you’re out. There’s not a chance in hell you’d leave all of these innocent people to rot on this farm. 

San’s apathy is so jarring. Maybe that’s what waking up after years of brainwashing does to a person.

You don’t want to judge him when he’s so clearly doing this for you. To protect you. You can hardly complain that he’s resolved in this situation. 

… Yeah, no, it still rubs you the wrong way.

But you’ll shrug it off for now. “When can we go?” 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

San explains the general idea to you, which he’ll refine in the coming weeks. 

With the beginning of the harvest starting, that puts the farm about one month out from the conclusion. Apparently, they don’t actually own that much acreage, just enough to surround the commune itself, so harvest doesn’t take very long. Throughout the month, there are various ceremonies that all culminate into one, final, grand ceremony at the end of the harvest. After this ceremony, there’s a party. 

It was about here when you realized where this was going.

The party is huge, apparently. Like, all-out, rager huge. Everyone gets drunk (apparently this is part of the ceremony) and everything gets a bit wild and confusing. San’s proposal is that the two of you make a break for it when everyone is (a) extremely inebriated and (b) distracted by the celebrations. 

It’s kind of cliche, but you have to imagine that it’ll work, especially if this party is as crazy as San explained. 

If it doesn’t work… the thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re not going to start pondering what you’ll do if you get caught for a second time. 

Really, this plan should work. San has access to the vehicles. With a car, you can be fifty miles away before anyone even realizes that you’re gone, so long as Hongjoong lets you out of his sight for even just a few minutes. 

With all of the noise and distractions, no one will hear the car starting. No one will hear you guys peeling out, the terrible crunch of the gravel under the wheels that you had heard what felt like so long ago. 

You think back to the night in the corn field. What a shitshow. You had to give it to yourself, you were very brave. And you got quite far for the amount of preparation that you had done. But that night… 

Remains one that you want to forget. But you’ll never forget the fear coursing through your veins, the feeling of your heart in your chest, your ears twitching with every sound that you heard. When Seonghwa was chasing you, when Hongjoong reduced you to a puddle at his feet. 

It was like being hunted for sport. 

You have to hold out hope that the car will make all of the difference here, which you’re sure that it can. Where you’re going to go… you aren’t sure. 

Surely, you know that you have to get law enforcement involved, but what San said is weighing on your mind… Maybe, if you fully explained the situation, you could get some sort of covert mission operating… But that would probably have its pitfalls, too. It’s hard to know what’s right, but you trust that you’ll figure it out once you’ve saved yourself. 

There’s also the option that the police will entirely write you off and think you’re just some crazy lady. Especially if San… 

No, wait, pause. San would tell the truth, right? Like, he would be your witness? He wouldn’t actually just let this keep happening once he’s out… 

God, the fact that you even have to weigh this option is exhausting. Why can’t you just trust him? You’ve had no problem with it before, so why should it be an issue now? Has San ever done anything to betray your trust? Minus him being a high-ranking cult official, but, like, that’s just part of the deal. You have to trust him, especially now.  If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 

Your mind wanders to your apartment, your old college dorm room, your childhood bedroom. How dreamy would it be to be anywhere but here? You miss your big bed and your pantry full of snacks you actually like and your bookshelves stacked with your books. You miss sleeping alone, but hearing your neighbors through your thin walls; when you didn’t have a sanctioned bed time that everyone obeyed. 

On your nightstand at home, you have a framed picture of your friends. You try to picture their faces, all of them. Changbin, Mingi, Soojin, Haseul, Juyeon, and Jungeun. And, of course, your own face. When’s the last time you looked in the mirror? You think of your features, your hair, the color of your eyes and your smile. 

Horrifyingly, you can only picture Hongjoong’s smile. 

You stop trying to picture yourself.

Mingi comes to the forefront of your mind. Mingi. Do all roads lead back to Mingi? It feels like it. San had said that Mingi had run to you when you fainted, that he’d taken you from Hongjoong and carried you to the infirmary. You try to picture it, the feeling of Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again. Had he held you close, like a friend, or sterile, far away from his own body, the act of an EMT? Had he let your head hang upside down, over his arm, or did he support your neck like you would a baby? 

You don’t know what feels right. You only know that Mingi had held you and Mingi had cared. 

Maybe he threw you over his shoulder like he used to do when you refused to follow him somewhere. Probably unlikely. But you smile as you think about it, anyways, how he always used his height to his advantage and how he would sling you around like you weighed nothing. 

How many times did he have to carry you to the library? How many times did he carry you out of the library? What does carrying someone mean? When is it an act of love and when is it an act of control?

Haseul had been carried. Where is she, now? In a little room? Is Wooyoung talking to her, keeping her company? Has Mingi been a good companion to her? Is she being subjugated to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, yet? Are you going to have to attend her own Choosing ceremony, soon? 

Hongjoong wouldn’t trust you to just silently watch her ceremony, you know that well enough. It’ll probably just happen and you’ll be told after the fact. When its too late to warn her. The next time you see her, she’ll probably be in the infirmary, recovering from a fucking stab wound. 

Your own scar tingles. Would Hongjoong just kill her? He had made it clear that he decides who lives and who dies. He could just lethally aim the knife. And wouldn’t that be the ultimate punishment? Not knowing she’s dead until being told after the fact? Not being able to see her one last time? 

San wouldn’t let that happen. He would warn you, he would try to help her again, you’re sure of it. 

So you just have to focus on yourself, for now. Keep your head down, wait it out, and trust San. That’s really all that you can do. You can’t help Haseul while you’re stuck here, just like you can’t help Mingi, either. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

You had half expected Hongjoong to give you a break for a few days, considering your encounter with… whatever that thing was, but that illusion is quickly destroyed when Seonghwa comes knocking on your door at the usual time the next day. 

San answers, quickly lowering his voice in what sounds like an attempt to plead with Seonghwa to leave you alone for the day. You sneak up behind San, making eye contact with Seonghwa as your appearance calls his attention. 

“What do you think, princess?” He sounds as pissed as he looks. You can imagine that he wants to be here just as much as you want him here.

Resting a hand on San’s shoulder, you tell him that you’re fine to go. Afterall, how else are you supposed to keep up appearances? And you need to learn more about what this month has in store for you.

San steps aside as Seonghwa offers you his hand, which you take. Strange, though, that he doesn’t take your arm as he usually would. Is this his way of…

Your last conversation echoes in your head. Seonghwa seemed genuinely concerned. And quite rattled. And he was honest with you, as much as you could expect him to be. Maybe he’s feeling bad. Or sentimental. Or protective. 

… Pft, who are you kidding? He probably didn’t even think twice about taking your hand instead of your arm.

Hand-in-hand, you walk silently to Hongjoong’s apartment.

Fuck. You can only hope that he’s not there. You could probably play off your curiosity about the month as your worry about what’s going to happen to you, but something tells you that Hongjoong is going to be looking for reasons to be cruel. Or you’re going to be in for some intense attempts at gaslighting you into believing… 

You have to resist a shudder at the memory. With enough effort, you probably could believe that that shit was real. Didn’t you have to beg Seonghwa to tell you that it wasn’t? You still don’t understand what the hell that even was or how it could’ve been faked, but you really can’t bring yourself to think of it. 

Seonghwa drops your hand to open the door, holding it open behind him to allow you to enter as well. 

Hesitantly, you glance around the apartment. 

“He’s not here,” Seonghwa says. “But he wants you here when he comes back.” 

The door shuts, and you sit at your usual spot on the couch. Seonghwa flops into his chair, facing you. 

“When will he be back?” 

He just shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. The image takes you back to a certain other night the two of you have been alone, and you have to clench your jaw to drive away the thoughts, looking anywhere else but at his body. 

“I suppose you have more questions.” Seonghwa doesn't ask you this, but tells you. 

Yeah, you have a lot of questions. The primary ones you either can't ask Seonghwa or you've asked him already, to no avail. 

You look at your nail beds, trying to be nonchalant. “Are you still jealous of San?” 

Why that's the question you decide to ask, you have no idea. 

Seonghwa scoffs. “Really?” He asks. “That's where we're going?” 

Shrugging, you try your best to resist looking at him. “I just thought it was strange that Hongjoong didn't want me to see him yesterday. I can't help but imagine that you must still be feeding him lies,” you say. “He also told me that it was you that had to physically hold him back when I fell.” Not to mention the other holding he did. 

Though you don't look at him, you can imagine his displeasure spreading across his expression. “I don't know why you insist that there's nothing between you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, minus the fact that your misadventures could only cause harm to San.” 

“Exactly,” your eyes flit up to his face, “I'd never put him in danger.” 

“Your loyalty to a man you hardly know is admirable,” Seonghwa says through a sneer. 

“I know San better than I know you.” 

You could swear his eye twitches. “Sure you do.” 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” You blink. “I have no reason to not trust San, and every reason to not trust you.” 

Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I think you're forgetting your situation, Princess. San is your punishment, and you're his.” He brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “I never said you had to trust me. I think you do, anyways.”

You stay silent, knowing that he's at least partially correct. You probably do trust Seonghwa, at least more than a lot of the people here. 

“Otherwise, you wouldn't have asked for me to calm you yesterday.” 

“I asked for San, first.”

“And what would he have told you?” Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Not what you wanted to hear. He wouldn't have been able to assure you of anything. I did.” 

Again, you know he's right. San hadn't been able to do much to calm your nerves, despite tell you his plan for your escape. 

You lock eyes with him, planning to defend San, but your gaze betrays you. Seonghwa leans back in the chair, knowing he's got you.

“Who was in the costume?” You ask instead. 

Seonghwa deigns to look confused. “I'm not sure what you mean.” 

The frustration of the prior day comes back at full force. Why can't just one other person acknowledge the fucking insanity of this place? Why can't Seonghwa just say what he means? Why is he so insistent on agreeing with Hongjoong, no matter the cost?

“Do you ever get tired of being Hongjoong's lapdog?” 

“Lapdog?” He smiles. “Come here.”

You swallow as he gestures for you to stand in front of him, recognizing the gesture from weeks prior. “No.”

Seonghwa stands instead, stepping around the coffee table to be able to stand before you. Forced into looking up at him, you hate this upper hand he's suddenly gained through your refusal. 

He bends, using a hand to grip the sofa behind your shoulder. Face to face, he mockingly pouts. “That's what you think of me?” 

You keep your mouth shut, hoping your gaze is burning through him.

“You said it yourself,” he leans closer to you, “you hardly know me.” 

With his face so close to your own, you hardly even feel like you can breathe, like it would be encroaching on his space. You glance between his eyes, trying your damnedest to not look anywhere else. If you looked at his lips… his pretty, plump lips… 

Fortunately, or, perhaps unfortunately, the doorknob starts rattling a few feet away from the both of you, and Seonghwa quickly leans out of the compromising position. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he stares down at you once more. “This isn’t over.” 

The door opens, but neither of you turn to greet who you know will be in the doorway. You’d have to imagine it’s quite a sight to see, the both of your staring daggers at each other, unwilling to be the first to look away. 

Hongjoong isn’t pleased by your ignorance. He slams the door behind him as he enters his apartment, and Seonghwa finally relieves you of his look. 

Your eyes only move to Hongjoong when he comes to stand next to Seonghwa, his hand resting on his bicep.

“Well, well, well,” he says, “having a lively conversation? Without me?” 

Hongjoong gently turns Seonghwa so that he’s angled to sit on the couch, pushing him down until he’s sitting right next to you. Your thighs brush. Hongjoong moves back to sit on the chair Seonghwa vacated, settling himself in before speaking again. 

“Have you had time to reflect on what happened yesterday?” Hongjoong inquires, tilting his head. He’s wearing his glasses, the overhead light reflecting off of them, obscuring his irises. “If I seemed frustrated with you, I must apologize. You have to understand that it was a very scary experience, even for myself. And I forgive you for the way that you reacted, as well.”

You squint at Hongjoong. As if you had anything to be sorry for. He’s the one that got himself all mad for no reason. He should be apologizing to San. 

But you can only imagine how this conversation will go if you continue to argue with him about the validity of the… thing. And San requested you to keep a low profile. He probably wouldn’t want you bringing up his mistreatment. So you nod a couple times, hoping that he doesn’t want you to vocalize an apology. 

“You must have been in shock,” Hongjoong continues. “Which would explain your inability to accept what had happened.” 

Nodding again, you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Does he want you to start asking questions? Does he seriously, genuinely believe that you’ve lost it, now? He can’t.

So, what? He just wants you to act like you have? He must know that it would just be a ruse, so why does he want you to go along with it so badly?

Seonghwa certainly knows that you’re not fooled, and you can expect that he told Hongjoong this after you spoke to him yesterday. Who is this act for, exactly? 

“As important as you are, it makes sense that you were targeted. The Guardians, in fact, are responsible for the loss of your predecessor.” 

Okay, so, that’s a lie. Hongjoong told you as much himself. He’s really going to go back on his word, gaslight you into forgetting what he already said? He might be able to get you to forget what he told you about Haneul, but not so soon after you found out about her. 

Haneul’s memory is alive and well in your head, despite the fact that you never met her. You owe it to her to remember the facts of her life, and her death, as best as you can. It awakens a tinge of anger in you to even hear Hongjoong so blatantly disregard her truth. He told you, to your face, that he liked you more than her. So he got rid of her. Not these “guardians” or whatever the fuck he’s trying to blame for her death. 

“The Guardians,” you say, plainly. “Are… what, exactly?” 

Hongjoong leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Well, there’s quite an extensive explanation in The Answer, but I suppose it could be beneficial to hear about them from me.

“The Guardians, simply put, are our antagonists. They protect the Sign, keeping it in the hands of those that oppose us. When we’re close to reaching the Sign, or when the barrier is thinner than normal, such as during a ceremony, they can appear. They’re rather frightening, and they can kill or bring Followers back to their dimension.”

… You blink at Hongjoong, remembering to nod periodically through his explanation. What are you supposed to say to that? 

“So, yesterday, then, it was trying to… kill me?” You ask, sensing that Hongjoong wants something to bounce off of. 

He tsks. “I don’t suspect kill, but rather kidnap. If they know that you’ve been Chosen, they’ll continue to target you whenever the barrier is thin. Surely they know that we would go to great lengths to recover you if they were able to steal you away.” 

Hongjoong speaks with such a conviction that you can see how people are led to believe in him. If you had a weaker mindset, his crock of shit might just make sense. Or be just scary enough to make you want to believe that he could protect you. 

“But you scared it away? Yesterday?” 

Hongjoong nods gravely, closing his eyes. “They fear my presence, thankfully. Very rarely can they stand to be in the same room as me.” 

You smile, hopefully not sarcastically. “That’s very lucky for me, then.” 

“It is,” Seonghwa cuts in, surprisingly. “Hongjoong will always be with you, so you’ll always be safe.” Even more surprising than his words, Seonghwa slides his hand into resting on your mid-thigh, assuringly squeezing you. You turn toward him with wide eyes, about to question what the hell he thinks he’s doing, when his expression makes it very clear to you that you should drop the subject. 

Bizarre. Why would Seonghwa be warning you to stop talking about what Hongjoong so clearly wants you to speak about? 

So you turn back toward Hongjoong, who’s agreeing with what Seonghwa said, seemingly oblivious to his little boyfriend’s hand on your thigh. “Is there any way to protect myself, if I am alone?” You ask instead of heeding Seonghwa’s warning. 

He squeezes your thigh harder, but you ignore it. What the hell is he trying to steer you away from? If he doesn’t want you to talk about it, surely it’s something that you’re going to want to know, right? Seonghwa can’t be looking out for you, not when Hongjoong is in the room. He has his priorities in order, and Hongjoong far outweighs yourself. 

“Great question,” Hongjoong smiles approvingly. “So long as you have a Sign of the Answer on your person, you can fend them off yourself. They revere the Sign, they won’t harm someone under its protection.”

If that’s the case… you would’ve been fine, yesterday, then. As always, you had been wearing a Sign pinned to your shirt, somewhere. Though Hongjoong would probably try to argue with you that you must have been missing it, otherwise the Guardian wouldn’t have been able to attack.

But then that also raises the question. Is kidnapping someone the same as harming them? Maybe it wouldn’t have killed you, but could it still have taken you? Assuming that Hongjoong isn’t just some very creative psycho, that is. Purely for thought exercise, you have to wonder what the Sign could really protect someone from. Was yesterday an attack? Or merely an appearance?

You sense that Seonghwa is trying to warn you away from the areas that Hongjoong doesn’t have fleshed out. For all you know, yesterday is the first time that a Guardian has ever appeared in the flesh. Hongjoong might not have prepared for every possible question that you could ask. 

The questions that you’re most curious about are things that you can’t ask him. Who did he have dressed up? How did they make that stature, that outfit, that… aura? Where was the face? Were you drugged? Was everyone drugged? Did everyone see the same thing that you did, or is everyone collectively lying to you to help their leader? Seriously, where the fuck was that thing’s face? How did they do that? If it wasn’t for that gaping maw of nothingness, you’d have a much easier time writing the entire experience off as the complete joke that you logically know it must have been. You push the thought away for now. 

“I’ll be sure to always wear my pins, then.” You motion to where you have one pinned to your collar. “I have questions about the ceremonies in general, though, Hongjoong. Can I ask a few things?” 

He motions for you to proceed, and Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t tighten its hold on you, so you do. “Will there be more sacrifices?” 

Hongjoong nods. “There’s a sacrifice for each ceremony.”

“What is the sacrifice for? To what deity?” 

A hint of exasperation crosses his face as Seonghwa slides his hand a little higher. “I’ve explained this. Sacrifices are sent to different universes as aid for our clones. There’s no God in particular the sacrifice is for, except for me.” 

“So they can even use animals, in the other universes? The situation is so dire?” 

Seonghwa pinches you instead of squeezing. Hongjoong’s exasperation melts into wry acceptance. “Yes, it is. Have you ever gone months without eating meat?” 

… Yeah, probably. But you’re not going to press him harder on the subject. “I was just curious, I didn’t mean to question you. How many more ceremonies will there be this month?”

Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s right about now that you’re starting to feel a little bit insane because of it. Why would he put his hand on your thigh, of all places? Why does it keep migrating upward? Why don’t you just say something to stop him? Or use your own hand to move his away? Why is the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans so quickly? Why hasn’t Hongjoong said something yet?

“There will be one ceremony each weekend.” He says, calmer, now. “But you won’t have to participate in all of them. The most important ceremonies, the first and the last, are different and thus require the Bearer’s presence.” 

Well, that takes a bit of the pressure off, at least. Knowing that you don’t have to personally participate in every ceremony, though, no doubt, you’ll have to be present at each of them, makes you feel just a tad bit better. You have to imagine that Haseul’s Choosing ceremony will be soon… 

“Hongjoong, did I do good yesterday?” You ask, trying to feign your most innocent look. “Can I see Haseul, soon?” 

He gives you a small smile, but his answer doesn’t match it at all. “No. You made me quite mad, yesterday.”

The response is actually slightly shocking. You knew you had made him upset, but for him to vocalize it to you? To deny you seeing Haseul because of some bullshit that he orchestrated himself? 

“But—”

“No buts about it,” Hongjoong says. “You’ll be able to see Haseul once you’re behaving on a consistent basis.” 

“Won’t she have a Choosing ceremony?” You blurt, hoping that you weren’t the one to put the idea in his head. Maybe he had been planning on just keeping her locked up and not actually indoctrinating her. Had you even considered that? 

Hongjoong sighs. “I haven’t decided. Is she worthy of one?” 

What the hell does he mean ‘worthy?’ He’s seriously not going to jump at the chance to bring her in? If he wanted to, he could just kill her then and there; wouldn’t that be his dream? To end her life in front of you? Wouldn’t that just tickle his fancy? You don’t understand. 

Unless he’s taking a certain pity on her, which you highly doubt.

He must see your confusion painted plainly on your face, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “It’s no matter. You’ll see her when you deserve to. Seonghwa,” —he abruptly changes the topic and his tone— “where exactly is your hand going?” 

Seonghwa’s hand flies off of you, landing promptly back into his own lap.

“That’s what I thought.” Hongjoong tuts. “Do we need to discuss the lines that must not be crossed, again?” 

You shake your head. You do not need the sex talk again from Hongjoong. God. And it's not like you were feeling him up. 

“Seonghwa, you look particularly guilty. Do you need to tell me something?”

You suspect that, if Seonghwa looks or feels guilty of something, it's not the hand on your thigh. It's the warning you to stray away from topics that could upset Hongjoong. 

But, glancing over at him, you’re surprised to see how red his face has gotten. Do you really get him going so easily? You could almost laugh, if not for the circumstances. Surely he's not so embarrassed just to have been seen with a hand on your leg. Its not like Hongjoong walked in on his hand down your pants or anything. And hadn’t he been all up in your face before Hongjoong arrived? Where’d that confident asshole go? 

Hongjoong’s presence makes all the difference, you suppose. Hopefully he's able to play off this little episode as embarrassment about touching you. If Hongjoong realizes what he was doing, he'd probably get in trouble. 

Which is still perplexing. Why had Seonghwa done that? Since when does he want to protect you? The way he's been acting, yesterday and today, just doesn't… align with the picture you have in your head. 

Seonghwa looks literally anywhere else than at you or Hongjoong, shaking his head as well. 

Slowly, he uses his hands to slide himself farther down the couch from you. Hongjoong chuckles from your opposite side, bringing you back into the reality that you temporarily abandoned. 

“That’s pathetic, Seonghwa, really.” 

Seonghwa simply looks back toward the coffee table, his face pink. Hongjoong is so harsh.

“Anyways,” Hongjoong calls your attention back towards him, “anything you want to tell me, (Y/n)? How’s San?”

This obsession with your relationship with San is infinitely annoying. What makes them think that you’re ever going to admit to what they suspect of you? 

“San is perfectly fine.” 

Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches. “Oh? I only ask because he was rather… upset, yesterday, is all.”

“Wasn’t everyone a little upset?”

“Not so personally.” 

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell you that you made us live together, so it’s only natural that we care about each other.” 

“Well,” is Hongjoong’s entire response. 

The room falls into a rather uncomfortable silence. 

You look back at Seonghwa, but he’s just looking at his hands, folded in his lap, now. 

Hongjoong looks at his nail beds. 

“Are we done, then?” You ask. 

“You don’t have any more questions?” Hongjoong responds with a question, not looking up at you. 

You rack your mind for anything else. Sure, there are plenty of questions, just not ones that he would be happy to answer.

“I guess not.” 

Hongjoong looks up, flicking his eyes between you and Seonghwa. “Shall I escort you back to your apartment?” 

You look back at Seonghwa, who’s now looking between you and Hongjoong. 

“I don’t have a preference,” you say, even though you definitely do. 

“I can take her,” Seonghwa springs up, offering you his hand. 

Taking it, you also stand. “I actually have one more question, Hongjoong.”

He has to look up at you for once. He simply waits for your question while you gaze down at him.

“Is the sacrifice always an animal?”

He smiles. “More or less.”

Great. Wonderful. Perfect. You absolutely hate that response. More or less? Thats the most non-answer answer that he could've given you. And it definitely means that its not always an animal. Which makes you wonder when… and who… 

Stunned into silence, you say nothing. Neither does Seonghwa.

“Hurry back.” Hongjoong requests, dismissing the two of you without another word. 

Once you’re outside of Hongjoong’s apartment, you debate teasing Seonghwa, but decide against it. Though it would be quite fun, the poor guy is probably going to get it from Hongjoong already, no need to add to his torment. Plus, he was just trying to help you. 

He walks you in silence, again, hand-in-hand, back to your apartment. 

No sooner than you’re saying goodbye and shutting the door behind you does San appear in the entryway, grabbing for you. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?” He frantically asks, looking you up and down and all around, his hands flying around your limbs to check for injuries.

Stunned, you stay still. “I’m fine?” 

San sighs in relief, guiding you back toward the couch, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. “I was so worried they’d somehow found out. That you’d be hurt.” 

You shuffle around so that your back can rest against the armrest of the sofa, your legs still resting over his.

“They absolutely cannot find out, no matter what,” San says. “Can you tell me what you talked about?” 

So you explain the conversations for him, using a free hand to card through his hair as you do. He seems to relax after you’ve elaborated, though you leave out the part about Seonghwa and his hand. 

Part of you wonders if you should feel guilty about messing with Seonghwa. Not for his sake, but for San’s. What even is going on between the two of you? You probably shouldn’t be flirting with the enemy anyways, but San probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to hear about the things that have happened between yourself and Seonghwa. The fact that you leave it out when recounting the meeting must prove that you know that it’s wrong. 

“Come here,” you open your arms to him. 

He slips out from under you, realigning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest. “We’ll get out of here, together.” He wraps his arms around your waist.

You do the same, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. There’s nothing you can do but agree with him. The two of you will escape together, and soon. After that, you can forget all about this place. 

… Yeah, in your dreams. The real horror might start after you’re gone. You have to believe that San is telling the truth about Hongjoong. Revealing the cult to the authorities will only end in horror if you’re not careful. 

And you find it hard to believe that you’ll be okay once you’re gone. You’ve considered it before, the way that this sort of trauma affects someone. How long will you have to recover? Will you be able to go back to your old life? 

Will San be part of it? 

You squeeze him tighter and he reciprocates. 

← previous || next → || masterlist

#ateez angst #ateez series #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #the answer #update

[blippymilk]

Clay Headcannons (Romantic)

Genre: Fluff, Romantic

Warnings: None

A/N: I love Clay so much so I genuinely enjoyed writing this 🤗

✩ The best boyfriend you could ever ask for hands down

✩There’s quite litteraly no one like Clay

✩ You fell first but he definitely fell harder

✩ Words of affirmation + physical touch kinda guy

✩ In the beginning of your relationship he’s not very touchy especially not in public

✩ But once he gets attached it’s over 🫡

✩ Always has to be touching you in some way

✩ Hand holding, waist hugs, neck kisses, and anything else you can think of

✩ Even when he’s working in his office he doesn’t mind you sitting on his lap as he works

✩ You had to be the one who could convince this man that it’s ok to be serious AND fun sometimes

“But what if people think I’m too silly again? My fun boy Clay days are over.” :((

“But there’s also nothing wrong with having fun from time to time too sweetie.”

✩ Wasn’t very open to expressing his emotions before he met you

✩ You had to let him know that it was ok to rant to you (and he’s still adjusting but he’s way better at it now)

✩ Please join his sad book club ok >:((

✩ Best dancing partner. EVER.

✩ If you’re at a party with Clay and there’s a dance floor

✩ Everybody getting left in the dust. Including you after a period of time 😭

✩ This man has past experiences with his boy band so he never lost his moves. If you can push him out of his comfort zone for the night, he’s gonna end up the center of attention.

✩ Clay’s not no mean troll, but he will got to war for his s/o and that’s a fact

✩ He can be very extra without realizing it, especially with the little details (bcs that’s just who Clay is :D)

✩ Don’t let him catch you singing any of his Brozone songs (especially his part). He will be all over you for the rest of the day, teasing you and kissing every inch of your face until no area goes untouched

✩ Wanna get Clay flustered? Tell him he has a beautiful voice and you love to hear him sing

✩ Will 100% start humming to you before bed

✩ You’re the reason Clay started to let up and not focus on working 24/7, 24 hours a week. And Viva noticed that (and she thanked you for helping him relax bcs she’s tired of seeing him stress)

✩ But also please thank him for working so hard to become a licensed CPA. He loves the sound of his job and loves to hear you say it too.

✩ Definitely the big spoon when it’s time to get comfy at night. Being so much taller than you, he likes to consider himself “the one in control”

✩ Loves when you play in and take care of his hair like your own.

✩ Loves a good relaxing “spa” (self care) day. A day where you two, and ONLY you two get to sit back and treat yourselves. Facials, hair care, bubble bath, back massages, etc.

✩ Viva made you a matching sweater romper and you put it on for Clay. Let’s just say that was the best decision ever.

✩ Just like you do for him, he appreciates everything you do. Like no matter what it is, he supports you and he’ll be there every step of the way.

✩ You never have to worry a day in your life about Clay cheating, or finding “someone better”

✩ One time during whatever the situation was that had you guys dancing, you spun away from Clay and a new girl quickly replaced you for him to dip her. And he let her go as soon as she even slightly tilted.

“Clay, why did you drop her?!”

“She was kinda close to me and I don’t know how you or I feel about that to be honest.”

✩ (dw he apologized after)

✩ Clay can be really serious. Or really, really, really, reallyyy, corny. 😐

“Babe, did you know my favorite word is universe? Because it starts with U-N-I.”

“Are you wifi? Because I’m tryna hook up.”

“I heard kissing is a love language. Tryna start a conversation?”

“Are you my grades as a kid? Cause your bad AF.”

“Oh my gosh- CLAY-!”

✩ Overall Clay is an amazingly sweet well rounded man

✩ Never lose him

#trolls band together #clay trolls #trolls clay #trolls #clay #clay x reader #clay Headcannons #headcannons #brozone #brozone x reader #trolls x reader #fandom #romance #fluff #request #hope you like <3 #clay x reader trolls

[blurredpurplemint]

Ooo can u do jealous bi han scenario/one shot?

i didn’t have inspiration at first but it suddenly came to me, like, ok why not. was supposed to be short but is kinda more than i anticipated (0.4k words). lot of dialogue cuz i suck at description lol. not proof read (will do it later, maybe, i’m tired, its 3 am, i have school, i’m talking way too much, gn)

───────────────────────────

you've been tasked with organizing the cleaning tools and supplies as it's your responsibility to take care of cleaning the backyard today.

while absorbed in the task, you failed to notice someone entering the room.

“so this where you were…”

caught off guard, you dropped what you were holding.

“by the gods! you- wait. how did you know i was there?”

“unimportant.”

you sighed as you picked up what you had dropped.

“i swear you almost scared me to death…”

“death may be imminent for you depending on your answer to my oncoming question.”

you paused, reflecting on his words with closed eyes and furrowed brows, then shook your head.

“ok… what have i done?”

you replied as you continued with your task.

“don't assume I overlooked your actions with that foolish monk.”

you quickly turned around to gauge his expression, and you could discern his anger beneath the mask. the least you could said was that you were doomed.

“who? raiden?”

“the other foolish monk.”

in an instant, everything made sense in your thoughts.

“ohhhh… kung lao! haha…”

“is this amusing to you?”

“it's just that... i don't understand what you're accusing me of.”

“quit feigning ignorance; you know exactly what I'm referring to.”

you huffed.

“if only!”

you pivoted entirely to confront him.

“why not be more direct about what I've done wrong? it could help us make progress. just saying.”

“what was the reason for him holding you earlier?”

“ohhhh…”

you recalled the events from this morning.

“explain.”

you waved your hand at him, dispelling his concerns.

“it was nothing; i just lightly twisted my ankle, that's all.”

“what?”

he nearly rushed to you, but you halted him in his tracks.

“bi-han, i said "lightly." it was truly nothing, just a slight twinge of pain. that's why kung lao got a bit carried away and assisted me.”

he huffed, swiftly raising his chin in disdain.

“he didn't just assist; he practically enveloped you.”

“if you had witnessed the entire scene, you would have observed me leaping out of his arms.”

“i should consider tearing his arms off for this.”

“huuum, sexy~”

“alright, I'm done dealing with your attitude.”

you began to laugh at his irritated expression, prompting a deadly glare from him. he then turned away to leave.

“oh come on! don't give me the cold shoulder now!”

you spoke amid laughter.

he halted, slowly pivoting to cast upon you the most exasperated expression.

“oop- no pun intended!”

his sigh was so deep and prolonged it caused the room temperature to plummet by at least five degrees which elicited a shiver from you.

you shrugged apologetically, wearing a sorry smile, and approached him slowly. softly chuckling, you ran your hand over his torso, eliciting an eye roll of annoyance from him due to your feeble attempts to soothe his nerves. he subtly made sure you weren't limping.

“don't be upset with me. you're well aware that I have no interest in him.”

he didn't respond but glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, prompting a smile from you. you couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

“you are incredibly cute when jealousy surfaces, grandmaster.”

“i am not.”

“oh yes, you are!”

you spoke as you gently tapped his torso.

“whatever you stance, i’ll leave you to it. i have duties to fulfill.”

he said as he walked past you, intentionally bumping into you to clear his way. you let out a small whine in response to his abruptness.

“bi-han! we are not done here!”

“in my perspective, we are.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. you knew he was thickheaded before, but now he's just downright childish.

you watched him leave, but he suddenly halted in his tracks and spoke without turning back.

“i will meet you tonight… we’ll dine out.”

you gasped in excitement, placing your hand over your mouth to suppress your laughter.

“ow… you big softie <3”

he grunted and shook his head, immediately regretting his statement.

#at this point this is more ooc bihan than anything else but well #i can talk about him all day #he just doesn’t know how to express his feelings #bi han x you #bi han smut #bihan smut #bihan x reader #bi han imagine #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #bi han #mortal kombat 1 bihan #bihan fluff #bihan x you #bihan mk1 #mk1 bihan #mk1 fluff #mk1 bi han #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mk1 fanfic #mk1 bihan fluff

[tuliptic]

Crazy Form: My Ego's In This Show

First PAC of the year!! When in real I've been working on it since last year lmAO.

My main personality is peaking through this blog again cuz Ateez is back with another banger and as an Atiny, it’s my calling to do this. This reading is gonna be slightly different imo, tho I have no idea how to phrase myself on how different it is.

Most of us, if not all, have a certain side to us that can be considered crazy. The definition of crazy differs according to people and context, where some can be out of control, unbelievable, mad, or just enthusiastic. One person’s craziness is just another person’s normal, so just treat it as… How you want it to be. 

To me, this song yells about being yourself, not confining yourself to the social structure and expectations of the world. They might think we’re crazy but there’s nothing wrong with being yourself as long as you’re not harming anyone. Just close your eyes and not look if things are not to your liking, and steer away from me. Leave me alone, I don’t mind.

As usual, you can meditate before you pick a pile. However, for this reading, I’d say go for the one you first focused on, as craziness can be spontaneous. Found your pile? Let’s go see what our Crazy Form has for us!

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self made lyrics deck.

Pile 1

A card to represent you: Death

For some reason I see you as someone who prolly is into the punk genre? Something metal? You’re constantly transforming yourself, trying new things, finding your way throughout the world probably through means that are not well received by others. Weirdly the word osmosis came to mind? You tend to throw yourself into the exact situation to learn and understand why people react a certain way. It sounds cool, but to people around you, they think you’re out of your mind cuz it could mean that you may go to the extremes to get the experience you want. But to you, you prolly feel proud of it cuz you are constantly growing at an astounding speed.

1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Three of Wands rx

You tend to not credit yourself? It’s giving me the feeling that you tend to look at things from the sidelines, may it be your success or achievements. You don’t mind the credits, but to others they’ll get mad cuz you were not credited accordingly. They tend to not understand why you’d let your work get taken away or used (I think the same too). This appears to be a mystery to people around you, but you know what you want, so you’re chill with it. It’s giving me the feeling where you do things to gain experience and to build yourself, not to gain recognition. May be wrong here, but you know yourself best. OvO

2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Seven of Pentacles

You already chose to not take credits over your own work, and it will drive people crazy that whatever you’re doing is not the peak. You’re currently doing things at your own pace, to figure things out as you go. One day, when you decide to unlock a passion and work on it diligently, yet continuing to not take any credits for yourself, the people around you will flip. You know about this, but you’ve surrounded yourself with people who support your vision and share your values, they who believe that you’ll be able to create your own legacy sky. For some of you, you may also feel that it’s weird if you choose to take credit. Maybe it’s because there’s more than what is seen by the eyes in the material realm. For some reason I’m thinking of Saturn energy here, so some of you may be Saturn dominant.

3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - Justice rx

What I’m feeling from here is that you can use this to get out of situations, especially unfair situations. It can sound pretty mean but if things take a bad turn, you, being in no leadership role, can get out of it. This is also one of the reasons you dislike assuming the leadership position. To some, you may like assuming the leader position, but you’re not given the chance or you’re currently not there yet to take on the role. You’re also the type who likes to explore stuffs and hence, you have the skills and ability to venture into anything else new that you are interested in. The world is wide and there are a lot of things for you to try, and you probably go crazy with everything you wanna try, ignoring how small your plate can be.

4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - Queen of Pentacles

For some reason, the word “connection” came out pretty strong. Networking and connection was the first to pop up in my head. Y’know how people have been told to separate work life and personal life? That’s not what you’ll do, probably. You make friends and create connections through work, and they slowly become part of your personal life as well. I think this is a charm of yours where you are just capable of creating new bonds because of your comforting presence and of your communication skills. You don’t necessarily need to be very protective or nurturing; people just find you comfortable to talk to and the new friendship starts to grow from there. Eventually, they become part of your life even though you may not remain in the same workplace.

Overall energy: Justice, Six of Swords rx

I like how Justice came out twice for you, signifying that it’s a strong theme. Justice could mean being fair, but to me, it also talks about being critical in both mind and action. You possess a mind that’s sharp, where you can see and evaluate the various situations that you’re in, noticing details that many people don’t. It’s like… You’re being guided through all of these so you’re able to throw yourself into as many passion projects as you like. However, remember to keep things in moderation else you’ll feel the burn-out or you’ll get overwhelmed with everything going on. Take care.

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Pile 2

A card to represent you: The Hanged Man rx

This card in reverse usually talks about delays, resistance, and even self sacrificing too much. Have you been doing so? Have you been creating a lot of inner tension within yourself, where you try to maintain the exterior peace of the environment and ignore the need of your own inner peace? Remember that external peace isn’t your peace, and that you need to take care of your own needs as well, as you’re in charge of whatever that’s in your life. There are a lot of other ways to maintain a balance out there, you just need to review your priorities and how you’d want to execute it.

1. What do people think is crazy about you? -  Three of Cups

Socialisation is the first word that came into my mind. There’s a high chance that you’re an extrovert, where you gain energy by being around people. Not exactly a party animal kinda feeling, but more of a… Vibe assimilation? It’s like, you throw yourself into a place with a good vibe and you kinda absorb the good vibe and make yourself feel better with it. Once you’re feeling better, you feel that you’re more prepared to face whatever problems you were facing. It’s also the other way round, where you give out good vibes and fun times to those around you who are having a hard time. But also, you need to be aware if this is their preferred love language or you may not be helping them the way they need it.

2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Page of Cups rx

Are you a romantic? Cuz this card here is giving me this vibe. It feels like… You’re a romantic in heart, where your heart is open to love as it manifests into the world. Take this as a reminder to not go wild. You can fall in love deep and quick, and can jump to new relationships easily. To you, you just view love as love, and you think it’s alright to get into or break off relationships cuz you’re loyal to love. However, a relationship doesn’t work only on love, but also responsibilities, loyalty, and a lot of other aspects. Ground yourself, find out what is it that you want by getting into relationships. From there, only you figure out how you can work things out without potentially harming other people in the relationship.

3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - Wheel of Fortune rx

I feel that with your Crazy Form, you are very capable of changing the courses of lives. Plural. It’s not only your life that you’re changing, where you learn through the relationships and experiences you’ve gone through; but also the lives of others who have been in relationships with you, where they may learn a thing or two, or even have problems with the idea of “love”.  You know that you’re the co-creator of your life and destiny, but also, you need to be aware of the impact you have, how you can also change the lives of others for the better. You now know you have the power, how you’re gonna use it is now up to you.

4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - The Devil, Page of Swords

You can be the Devil, where you can draw out the worst possible potential in someone; or you can also be the Messenger, where you share your knowledge and wisdom to those who are interested in them. There’s a lot you can achieve, but ultimately, it depends on which path you want to tread on. You, Pile 2, you know you’re fire, you know you can warm people or burn them. I don’t want to repeat things but yeah. You can make a name for yourself, may it be in a nice light or a not-nice light. Whatever you choose, make sure you think through the consequences of your actions, and if you’re alright or satisfied with the outcome. 

Overall energy: Temperance rx, Four of Wands

Overall speaking, there’s a lack of balance in this pile. It feels like the energy is scattered, and that now you’re taking your time to piece the puzzles (scattered energy, self-expectations, better understanding of yourself)  into a nice and harmonious picture (you). You are searching for a community where you are comfortable with, you can work together with. I don’t think this pile has much difficulties in self-acceptance, but if you do, do work on them as it could be your greatest challenge. Once you’re through that?  You’ll be surprised by how much power you have.

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Pile 3

A card to represent you: The Hierophant

I… Am conflicted with how I should word myself. The Hierophant is usually related with traditional and conventional methods. There’s a hint of tradition here, but what I’m feeling is more of a… Fusion? It’s like you’re working with whatever and whichever part of the tradition you agree with, and mixing it with something else to have a new blend. This is you. You are good at combining the best of both worlds to bring forth something new that is comforting to you and the people around you. You may also have been told that you have a healing presence? Or you’re working on your inner healing right now, especially childhood trauma. 

1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Ten of Wands rx

The way you willingly and fearlessly take up responsibilities is what people (including myself) think is crazy about you. Most people will consider and ponder, weighing the pros and cons before deciding if they wanna take up the responsibility to take up something or anything. But for you, it’s like you have some sort of blind faith that you’ll be able to do things and hence, you take up the responsibility. You also have almost no fear in showing or exposing your vulnerability. You understand that being vulnerable doesn’t necessarily mean weak, and you honour that part of you, showing it and proving that being vulnerable doesn’t mean you can’t achieve things.

2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - Four of Pentacles rx

You’re actually… restraining yourself a lot. Unknown to the people around you (or even yourself), you have always felt the need to exert control over particular things, or even other people, but especially yourself. The controlling side of yours is due to the insecurities that you’ve experienced, probably as a kid, where you need to have a certain control over situations so that you can be assured of your self value. You probably have gone through child trauma and do not hold trust in the world, nor in people around you, which led to you wanting to be in charge of things so you can exert dominance to make sure you’re not on the passive or losing end.

3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - The Magician rx, Five of Cups rx

You can use that controlling energy and redirect them to some other things, such as creativity expressions (creating new things to have fun) or even focusing on healing past traumas. All of these require a lot of energy and time, which is something really suitable for you to work on as you expand not only your views on things, but also to learn acceptance and to be kinder to yourself. Expansion is a huge theme where you need to find things out and figure them out as you journey in life. There’s a lot of time for you to figure things out, so it’s best to not rush and learn to take things at your own pace.

4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - Eight of Pentacles

Success is guaranteed if you put your energy in the right things. You’ll be able to become the pinnacle in whatever fields you have decided to step into. The tenacity you have, the diligence and hard work you’ve put into curating your portfolio and honing your skills will be well repaid in the forms of success, achievements, recognition and even power. However, there’s a need to maintain balance in all things, and to continue striving and improving. Know that you’ll need to constantly learn how to change your controlling energy to something that’s more… beneficial? Something that can help you (and/or the people you care for) in the long run. 

Extra cards: Five of Pentacles

An extra message for you right now is that you still will need to go through some things before you reach there. You’re still in the process of learning, and you’ll face your own trials soon enough. You need to be aware of your own mindset, your own actions; only then you’ll be able to make the necessary changes for you to be able to unlock your highest potential. Your guides are also actively sending you messages. Trust in your guts, your feelings, your guides; they’re your strongest compass and confidant.

Overall energy: Death, The Star

This pile focuses a lot on the importance of change, and how it’s capable of making your life better or worse. However, it also reassures that there’s a silver lining within every dark cloud. There may be a sense of defeat for some who chose this pile, but it is also a sign of telling, where you’re called to surrender the old and limiting beliefs before you can be reborn into limitless possibilities. The process of being reborn is not easy, and you will need help around you to go through those times. Not saying that you can’t handle everything alone, but getting help and assistance from people around you, especially those who are close to you can help you and make your life so much easier. So why go through the long-winded route?

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Pile 4

A card to represent you: The Emperor

I’m getting a… Growl? People probably paint you as dominant or domineering at times (or most of the time). You may have a stronger masculine energy, even if you identify as some other genders. There’s this fire energy that feels like Scorpio as well, where people (including your subordinates and to some extent, friends) may feel afraid. Some of you are aware of this and are pleased with this, but some of you are unaware of this trait of yours. You can choose to either work on it and be a benevolent king, or you can be a tyrant. The choice is yours, you are who you want to become.

1. What do people think is crazy about you? - Temperance, Two of Pentacles

You’re able to remain your balance amidst the changes that are happening around you. There’s just this… Stability in you that assures the people around you. Pluto is in Capricorn and it’s about to enter Aquarius for good. We have seen how things changed around us, and how there were more… THings that have been constantly happening. Yet, even with the never-ending chaos, you still manage to keep your emotions and rationality at a healthy level. You know that you rely not only on yourself, but also your dreams and your spirit’s energy to reach your highest good. But still, you achieving this is just insane in many people’s eyes.

2. What craziness is in you that has not been unleashed? - King of Swords rx

People are seeing the balanced side of you at the moment, but they probably have not thought of you being a person who focuses more on the mind than the emotional side. You probably have the habit of noticing the slightest things, and you’re very capable of putting the small pieces together to form the bigger picture. If anyone ever wrongs you, this side of yours will appear and will probably mess up their life cuz they messed yours. You do put in effort in keeping this side of yours aside as you’re very much intending on keeping things civil.

3. How can you use your Crazy Form to your advantage? - The Chariot

If you ever wanted to take over the corporate business, you’re very capable of doing so. Take the wheel, steer to where you want to head to, and hit the gas. You will not be lost as long as you are sure of where you’re going. Also, because of this introspective side of yours, you can help a lot of those who are in need. I’m somehow seeing you piecing up information to gather evidence against domestic violence cases. You are willing to help, as long as they ask. The same goes to you, where you’ll also receive help from the universe when you ask for them. You just seem to be in sync with divine timing, which is something you can pay attention to.

4. What can you achieve from this entire thing? - The High Priestess rx

I am very tempted to say that you’ll end up losing your feminine and intuitive side, but there’s more to it. Sure, there may be chances of you straying away from the quieter side of you, but it is also a chance for divine intervention where your guides are re-introducing you the importance of your feminine side, showing you how being in-tune with your emotions can bring you to places you’ve never thought of, to bring your the emotional fulfilment that you’ve never imagined. More importantly, it’s an opportunity for you to learn the importance of stability and sustainability, and make sure that whatever you do and learn is gonna be part of your life, part of your identity.

Overall energy: The Hanged Man rx, The Tower rx

There’s quite some blockage here that you’re facing, where you may feel challenged with everything that’s happening around you. Remember that you’re not in control of everything around you, that things happen for a reason, and that it’s okay to go along the flow from time to time. The Universe is trying to guide you to where you’re supposed to be, so stop being stubborn and learn to accept things for the time being. At least, until you’re strong enough to go against what you’ve decided to fight. You’re meant to do great things, to achieve so much more in life. But first, you need to learn to accept your flaws and the harsh reality, only then you can be sure of what you want to rebel against.

#tuliptic #🌷 #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #general tarot reading #crazy form #yes it's another ateez reading cuz i'm an atiny #prolly another ateez one coming up #idk #depending on my mood #i've been working on this since last year and am finally having the energy to complete this #anyways that's it #it's a very different reading to the point idek what to label/categorise this as #have fun #i hope you guys had fun cuz #i definitely did #see ya in another reading #or game #whichever comes first

[dollfaceksj]

AHHHH angry yoongi?? count me in!! can't wait for 13

heyy😗 short update sorry ;(

can’t afford love | myg (m) #13

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WHAT DO YOU DO?

LIE — 3,3%

TELL THE TRUTH — 86,7%

226 votes

you chose:

TELL THE TRUTH

↓

5 MINS EARLIER

“it’s been too long man,” jimin says after yoongi hugs seokjin

yoongi catches up with his friends

until they get to the topic of jun

they ask how he’s doing of course

yoongi as a proud father shows them pictures

they keep talking about how much he’s grown

about how much he’s got yoongi’s eyes but your mouth

but then that reminds yoongi

yoongi nudges jimin with his elbow. “you’re the last person i’d consider to be father material, you know.”

jimin chuckles and nods. “oh, 100%. i could never. not for the next 15 years at least.”

“same, i might have to freeze my sperm now.” seokjin suddenly joins in on the jokes

a frown settles onto yoongi’s brows

huh?

“so then, why did you say you’d be down to father y/n’s child?”

at the expressions on both their faces, realization dawns on yoongi

and it didn’t take long for him to drag you into the restrooms after

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

with a deep sigh, you bring your hand up and scratch at your scalp with your manicured nails

“i knew you’d keep being difficult otherwi–”

he cuts you off. “difficult? what you asked of me wasn’t easy. are you hearing yourself?”

you roll your eyes as bratty as you can

“and yet, you immediately agreed to all my points when i brought up other men. suddenly, i was right when i said ‘we agreed on two kids’. when i said ‘it’s better to have 2 kids share the same parents’. when i said ‘jun needs someone he can love unconditionally and who will love him unconditionally’. suddenly, suddenly, you were 100% sure and down to do it. needed no damn time to think.”

he stares at you for a moment, clearly frustrated by the way you catch the tension in his jaw

it’s quiet for a moment

but you decide to keep pushing his buttons

“so either, you were on board from the start and just wanted to be difficult or you’re just jealous. whatever you wanna admit to, feel free. but the fact that you’re this pissed over something as silly as a little white lie—like saying seokjin would give me a baby—kind of sounds like it’d be the latter.”

jealousy.

and he clearly doesn’t like that

like you care

ugh😒

both of you are just staring each other down

heated

breaths fanning over each others lips

that’s how close he is

leaves no space for you, right in front of you with his hands in his pockets as you lean against the wall with your back

the cold tiles caress the bare skin of your shoulders but that doesn’t matter when you’re this heated

he shakes his head, teeth gritted together

clearly he’s got nothing to say

but your mind goes blank when he suddenly leans in

eyes drop to your lips for a split second before back to your eyes

“you’re lucky this entire look of yours,” he says as he waves his hand in front of your body. “…looks expensive.”

this makes you frown and your lips twitch for a moment

you snap, “and why is that?”

he leans further in, nose brushes right up against yours

leaving no space for you

all you see

all you hear

all you feel

is him.

and then, when he speaks, it’s over for you

“i would have fucking ruined you.”

Oh.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

ain’t shit funny.

you know you’re playing with fire when you ask, “ruin me how?”

in the blink of an eye, your entire body is turned around by your waist

your chest pressed into the wall behind you

and his chest pressed into your back, lips grazing your earshell

one hand on your waist, the other on your hip

“by fucking the shit out of you, right here. or bend you over that sink over there, i’m not picky.”

it’s almost like your body has a layer of sweat draped over it now

how quickly your body reacts to his mouth is crazy

whether he uses it to speak or do something else

and for whatever reason, you think it’s best to keep pushing his buttons

see if he’s real about that life LMAOOO

you say, “i’m not ovulating, though.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” he snaps. “you think i believe a single word you say now? you could’ve lied about your ovulation period. hell, you could even be pregnant right now. you dirty little liar.”

and for the first time tonight, you regret wearing this dress

because even though his crotch is pressed right into the swell of your ass

you can barely feel a thing

his hand moves up from your waist to the back of your neck, firmly pressing down

as if to make sure to keep you still against the wall

keep you trapped

but he knows damn well you wouldn’t wanna be anywhere but here right now

“you’re exaggerating. i’m not pregnant, i had alcohol tonight.”

“that doesn’t make you any less of a filthy liar, y/n. watch that fucking mouth of yours.”

holy shit

now you really wish you could rip this dress off your body

should you?

just be quick so no one realizes you two are gone and have been for a whi–

“now, go ahead and chat up your little photographer boyfriend. maybe he’d be down to film us conceiving the new baby.”

with that, he peels his hands off your body

and he’s gone

just like that

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

maybe he’d be down to film us conceiving the new baby.

crazy son of a bitch

taehyung’s not even your boyfriend!!! far from it

in other words ‘i wonder if your new boyfriend would be down to film us having sex.’

‘film me attempting to impregnate you.’

‘record me while i breed you.’

WHY DO YOU KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT STOP

you spend the rest of the evening by taehyung’s side

only catching yoongi’s eyes every once in a while

and you’re pretty sure yoongi catches it when you’ve exchanged phone numbers with tae

:)

out of 2 nominations, namjoon won 1

you celebrate a little longer with them before going home in a cab

you have to meet yoongi tomorrow and the last thing he’d said to you was that he would’ve fucking ruined you under other circumstances

shit

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

the following day, you’re getting ready to go to yoongi’s home

you’re wearing something casual yet cute

soft makeup

hair nonchalant

as you leave your home, your phone buzzes

ah

you’ve been texting him since this morning

you had to tell him yoongi and you are divorced

and nothing is going on between you and your exhusband

from: taehyung

‘Have you ever considered modelling?’

from: you

‘absolutely not’

from: taehyung

‘Is there a reason for that? You’re absolutely stunning.’

from: you

‘thank you but i don’t know why. don’t think i’d be very comfortable in front of a camera? i think’

you toss your phone into the passenger seat and start the car as you head to yoongi’s place

you show up about 20 minutes later

get out, cake in hand that you’d just bought in some random store

you knock at his front door

door swings open and yoongi’s there, slacks and a button up

ah

so he dressed up for you

you hand him the cake, your phone and your keys without so much as a greeting and immediately step in looking for your son

jun’s on the couch, intently watching tv

“baby?” you whisper

it catches jun’s attention but he doesn’t know where the sound is coming from so he’s looking around

you walk further into the living room

and his eyes are on you now

“mommy!” he turns over and slowly pushes himself off the couch to make sure his feet hit the floor first

he starts running to you and you immediately pick him up

your heart swells

he’s really your life

your moon

your sun

you hug him tightly. “oh, mommy’s missed you so much.”

“i miss mommy. daddy miss mommy.”

“woah there,” yoongi mumbles as he goes to put the cake in the fridge

“daddy misses mommy?” you question as you kiss jun’s cheeks

yoongi emerges from the kitchen again and crosses his arms as he watches you two

“has daddy been bad?” you ask jun and kiss his forehead

he shakes his head

“mommy’s been bad,” yoongi adds out of nowhere

you glance at yoongi and he’s just staring at you with his infamous stoicism

you fake gasp as you look at jun. “has mommy been bad? does daddy have to punish mommy?”

jun only giggles at your ridiculousness and shakes his head

yoongi however, seems to catch up on your innuendo

you kiss jun once more and then set him down by the table, in front of the spiderman plate

jun doesn’t really wait as he starts eating without you two

yoongi walks up to you to hand you back your phone

but suddenly your phone lights up with an unread text

both of your eyes automatically drop to read it

from: taehyung

‘Don’t worry about that, beautiful. We can do some things with the camera in private to ease you into it.’

oh.

OH.

anddd your heart stops beating in your chest when you realize the teeniest tiny twitch in yoongi’s brows in your peripheral vision as he reads your new message

to be continued

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

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#clover’s drabble series: cal | myg #min yoongi #yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi drabble #min yoongi fic #min yoongi angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi drabble #bts #bts yoongi #bts smut #bts angst #bts reader #bts x reader #suga x y/n #suga x reader #suga x you #bts suga #bts au #minors dni #dollfaceksj

[ggomos-maribat]

3 | in which Jason Todd is saved from a catfish

Part 3 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Jason didn't visit the WE building often and he preferred not to anyway. But he had to drop off case files in Bruce's office and receive a lead from the Replacement. He had his phone on one hand, and envelopes in another as he entered the lavish room. Upon finding the space empty, he dropped the files on the desk and ventured outside to ask the assistant.

"Where's Bruce?" His eyes landed on the petite girl, hair neatly tucked in a ponytail and face curled up in concentration.

"Bathroom." Not once did she unglue her gaze from the monitor. "You're chatting with a catfish by the way."

"What?"

"Your phone. Tinder? That match of yours is a catfish."

Jason looked at his phone and then back at her. When did she even see? He'd heard about the girl, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Personal assistant to Bruce for nearly five months already. The Replacement described her as a miracle worker. Dick liked her because she was good with kids. The demon child said she was eccentric. And Bruce? Every time he talked about her, Jason sensed that he had a new potential adoptive sister.

Though witnessing her behavior firsthand . . . Jason wasn't sure what to think.

"How'd you know?" Jason checked his screen—Gail, a stranger he managed to chat up so he could go undercover during their scheduled dinner date. Partly a cover, but partly just to meet someone new.

"It's obvious by how she replies and that profile photo is clearly fake." She shrugged.

"It's not." Jason was starting to have doubts. Was he a 'boomer' with technology after all, because of his death and revival?

She finally looked at him properly, though bearing a very very judgmental gaze that almost made him squirm. "A catfish is—"

"I know what a catfish is," Jason grumbled a bit too hastily.

"I really advise you to reconsider, Mr. Todd. Sooner or later, this possible middle-aged scammer will try to rob you of your money." Marinette lent her attention back to the computer. "Then ghost you."

"What, like you can find me a better partner?"

"For fun or for long-term commitment?"

Jason opened his mouth yet no sound came out. I don't know if she's joking or not.

Marinette spoke again after his lack of reply. "If you're looking to pursue a real relationship, I suggest considering those who are already close to you. But if it's just a fling, I'll be happy to find potential dates according to your preferences."

He frowned. He already invested too much effort and time befriending his match. But his subconscious betrayed him by letting him think of someone when she uttered her first statement. A red-haired someone. Damn it.

He snorted and started to walk away. "Whatever. I can get my own dates, thank you."

Unlocking his phone once again, he started to make a background check on 'Gail' while looking up what 'ghost' meant.

***

Bruce walked up to his assistant's desk. "I just passed Jason and he seemed out of it. Do you know what happened?"

Marinette only glanced at him for a second. "You don't need to know the specifics of it, sir. Let's just say your second son might not be a bachelor for life after all."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

***

The night was chilly and serene for some odd reason. The dry cloudless sky was a blessing for the city, granting it a peaceful ambience despite, still, the crimes occurring into the late hours. A few vehicles hummed on the road, streetlights buzzed while flickering on and off, and shadows of stray animals crept up window ledges.

Although Gotham was quiet, Bruce's heart wasn't. He fucked up. His grappling gun was cracked from a scuffle earlier that night, and the nearest most convenient place to get a spare was his office in WE. He managed to grapple through the window before the tool finally fell apart.

Now, I just need to find it . . . Batman started rummaging through the drawers, opening all the secret compartments he knew. He was certain he'd left it in some hidden nook, separate from where he kept his backup suit and tools.

He found the grappling gun at last, nestled amongst dusty office supplies inside a box. But the second he lifted it, the door creaked open.

"Who's there?!"

He felt the coldest shiver right under his skin.

He completely forgot Marinette was staying in the building for overtime. There she was, brandishing a kitchen knife at him (where did she even get it? The break room?) and if she wasn't menacing before, she certainly looked menacing at that moment.

"Batman?" She narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? Are you stealing from this office?"

Bruce's eyes slightly widened beneath his cowl. Fuck secret identities. Situations like these were always frustrating. He quickly hid the grappling gun away from her view before saying, "I had something to retrieve from here."

He needed to chant to himself: don't you dare use your soft voice. She doesn't know who you are.

Marinette scoffed. "With Mr. Wayne's agreement?"

"Yes. We had a previous deal. He knows I'm here."

"Oh really?" She reached into her pocket and brought out her phone. "So if I call Mr. Wayne right now to confirm, he's going to agree with you, yes?"

His grip tightened on his only escape plan. If I can just get to the window . . .

"Don't move!" Marinette held the knife out as she called his number. "Or else I'm throwing this knife at you."

Bruce wanted to believe that she wouldn't have the skills to actually hit him with that knife, but a part of him wouldn't take the risk. His assistant's steely eyes were piercing him through the dark, almost reminding him of the times when he missed important appointments she consistently reminded him of.

And of course, the phone continued ringing because his business phone was all the way back in the Manor. After no response, she stepped forward with the weapon still out.

"Since he can't confirm at the moment, I'm keeping you here until the police arrive," she told him.

"You can let me go," he replied. "Bruce Wayne is an associate of mine, I've no other reason for being here."

"You're investigating him, aren't you? You have no right to break into his office!" She scowled. "You're so nosy because of your damned paranoia."

"He helps fund the Justice League. There's no reason for me to investigate him."

"He has no interest in things like that; he already funds most of Gotham."

"Hn. What if I told you this was actually my office?"

Marinette scoffed. "I believe Mr. Wayne has more dignity than dressing up as a bat furry every night to beat people up."

That did it for Bruce. Firstly, his mind went blank at that comment as he wondered how he got an assistant so competent that it was backfiring on his alter ego.

Secondly, he was hearing laughter.

He forgot to turn off his comms.

His hand flew up to his earpiece at lightning speed to turn it off. As a split-second decision, he flicked a Batarang to pin her sleeve to the wall and make her drop the knife, before he shot the grapple and swung out. He was afraid that the longer he stayed there, the higher the chance he'd actually reveal his identity to her.

But when he landed on another building, guilt immediately took over. He turned on his comms again. "Oracle, do you have eyes inside the office?"

A long sigh sounded out from Barbara. "Yes, B, she's a big girl—she freed herself from the Batarang."

He let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

". . . And I saved the video recording of the whole thing." To this, laughter echoed into his ear again.

"Tt. You shouldn't have thrown the Batarang, Father, she wasn't at fault." Damian's voice cracked through. "She heard and intercepted an intruder, albeit in a dangerous manner, and she called to check if what you were saying was true."

"I'm sorry, I panicked," Bruce grumbled. He had to make sure to give her a bonus that month. 

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #maribat marinette dupain cheng #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

[alexsoenomel]

Feelin’ Baby Blue (Dean Winchester x Reader smut/fluff)

Requests: can you write a story where dean is just like touch starved and wants to cuddle so he doesn’t have nightmares while he sleeps.

Could you write a story where dean just needs a little comfort? like he’s had a rough day or is just feeling off and wants to be held and feel safe in the readers arms

Summary: Dean set you free by accident, not knowing you can feel the pain he was in and not knowing you’re able to give him what he secretly craved.

Pairing: Dean x Genie!Reader 

Warnings:  18+ MINORS DNI, Reader is a virgin, Dean is broken and pathetic, sweet love making, and Big O’s

Word count: 3.8k

Note: I added a little bit of fluffy smut because I’m a pathetic horny bitch and Dean deserves to get laid.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

Wake up. Go to work. Collapse on the coach. Wake up. Make lunch for tomorrow. Shower. Sleep.

Over and over again.

Every day. The concept of time didn't exist, only work and work alone. You didn't know who you were, your true authentic self was buried deep in you, along with your dreams and goals. In this world dreams and goals were considered unnecessary, plus you didn't even know what your dreams and goals were. You were only aware of one thing and one thing only – you had to work in order to survive. This job was your bread and butter, financial issues disappeared but you could still feel the world crashing around you. Your life became only your 9 till 5. You had no one, with family scattered around the country, and friends being in different stages of life, you were left to only interact with people in your dull office job which made you hate this life even more. Empty conversations, small talk, gossip…

You didn't even remember the last time you genuinely laughed while talking to someone. Once you entered this machine, this cursed cycle called the capitalistic society, your life lost all meaning.

It was the same day over and over again.

****

North Platte, Nebraska

Sam and Dean just killed a nasty witch. She had been cursing family homes all over Nebraska, making family members eventually kill each other in fits of rage and insanity – reasons unknown. She was an old one – old as time. Her house was filled with endless shelves of books of ancient dark magic, ancient artifacts chattered all over, herbs, talismans – whatever a witch’s heart desired, she had it.

"Poor guy!" Dean said, looking at the white rabbit lying on the coffee table. His eyes were closed, his little body completely relaxed and spread out – it looked dead. "That bitch was creepy as hell!" He added. Dean was never fond of witches.

"I still don't understand why she was killing all those families!" Sam wondered, looking around her messy living room.

"Beats me!" The older Winchester shrugged his shoulders and put the gun with witch-killing bullets back in his jeans.

He was just about to tell Sam that it was time to go since the place was giving him the heebie-jeebies when he saw something that piqued his interest on one of the bookshelves.

"Sam, look!" His fingers were gently holding a medium-sized bottle filled with floating whiteish, blueish puffs. He was smiling like he just found his favorite childhood toy.

"Are those clouds?" Sam asked, trying to see what was inside the bottles. Nothing apart from "clouds" his eyes registered.

Dean, being Dean (childish and chaotic at times), started shaking the bottle, hoping something would happen. It didn't. The "clouds" were just floating in the bottle as he was shaking it.

"Dean, put it back where you found it, and let's get the hell out of here!" Sam told him.

"Fine."

As he was about to put it back on the shelf, a light bang echoed through the living room causing both Winchesters to turn around with their guns ready to kill whatever made the sound. Dean didn't even notice that he dropped the bottle, shattering it completely. The clouds were floating right behind them as they put their guns away realizing it was just the rabbit that Dean thought was dead on the coffee table. It jumped on the wooden floor knocking a little stone in the process. It just stood there looking at them.

"He ain't dead!" Dean's eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't help but smile – he'd always feel sad for the poor animals that were used for witchcraft.

Instinctively, both brothers then glanced at the dead witch lying a few inches away from them. She was still dead as a doornail. Good.

The rabbit sniffed the witch's face before urinating all over it. Both brothers chuckled. Even better.

In the meantime, the cloud behind them started growing bigger and bigger. It reached Sam's height and exploded as both brothers were hit with a force so strong it knocked them to the floor. Dean hit his cheek, and Sam his nose, causing a few drops of blood to appear seconds later.

"What the –" Dean said and looked behind him.

Sam did the same as he whipped the blood coming from his nose. "Holy crap!"

****

Five minutes before.

As you were about to answer your next call, bored out of your mind, staring at your computer screen and seeing the calls pile up, you noticed something unusual. Your colleague Dave was in the middle of a conversation and yet you couldn’t hear him behind his computer anymore – which was unusual considering he was the loudest one in the office. The telephones around you stopped ringing– all of them. You looked through the window and saw the rain that was pouring outside just seconds ago, frozen in the air. You turned around and there she was; Karen stiff as a statue, mouth open, holding a chocolate bar inches away from her face.

"What the–"

***

You woke up. Finally, you woke up. The hell was finally over. You were finally free.

Right in front of you was a sight to see– two gorgeous-looking men staring back at you. One of them seemed more broken than the other. They seemed puzzled.

“How did you free me?” You asked, looking down at your body, seeing you weren’t in your business attire anymore. Instead, you were wearing your baby blue summer dress again. You missed that dress – haven’t worn it in 5 years.

“Free you? Who are you?” The shorter one asked. His hand then went behind his back…he had a gun.

“That gun is useless on me.” You said and glanced at the taller one who also tried the same. You tilted your head to the right, squinting your eyes, looking at the taller one…the name immediately pooped in your head. “You’re Sam.” And a few seconds later the shorter one had a name too. “Dean.” You said looking at him. “Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Both brothers stared at you before Dean finally asked: “Who are you?” His voice was deep, sharp, and kind of intimidating.

“Call me G,” you said.

“How do you know who we are?” Sam asked. “Are you even human?”

“I know the people who summon me. In this case, you didn’t exactly summon me, you freed me.” You explained, “I’m a Genie.”

“A Djinn?” Dean asked in confusion and partial disgust. By the sound of his voice you could tell he wasn’t a fan of actual Djinns. You weren’t either. They were far more chaotic and evil and somehow humans would always mix you with them.

This man is wearing a mask, even his younger brother cannot see. His soul is aching.

“You humans always put me in the same basket as them. No, I’m not a Djinn.”

“Explain!” Dean demanded.

“Who else is a genie and wears blue…or rather is blue?”

Sam's eyes immediately widened as he connected the dots. “The Genie?”

“Bingo!”

Dean then connected the rest. “Like The Genie from Aladdin?”

“Something like that.” Your mouth smiled for the first time in so long it almost felt unnatural.

“I need a drink!” Dean said looking at his younger brother who just stared back at him, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, the bitch has a fine whiskey collection in the cabinet behind you, take your pick and I can explain everything.”  

“Don’t mind if I do!”

“Pour me a double Dean!”

“Roger that!”

After both brothers were intoxicated enough you started talking. You were born in 1992 when the original Aladdin came out. It was an absolute hit all over the world, children loved it, young adults and parents loved it. Genie became a star and that was how you were born. Children especially, desperately wanted their favorite character to be real and to grant them those three wishes and voila…

You didn’t remember much from your birth. You just knew one day you became sentient, real and aware of your purpose – making humans smile. From that day forward you were traveling all over the world and granting wishes – healing the inner child of each broken adult who would summon you and making the world a better place. It wasn’t until the witch found you and bound you to be her slave and used your magic whenever she pleased. The thing that separated you from the real cartoon Genie was – you could grant as many wishes as once heart desired. She used you for revenge, hatred and to satisfy her undying greed for riches – everything you didn't stand for. You were more than glad that she was dead.

“So wait, you’re actually a tulpa?” Sam asked. You were surprised by his logical thinking.

“You can say that.” You confirmed.

Dean took the last sip of whiskey not really knowing how to feel about all of this. Tulpas were a familiar concept for him for sure, but a tulpa of a fuckin’ cartoon character not so much. One thing puzzled him though…

“Isn’t Genie supposed to be a blue man with a ponytail?” He finally spoke.

“Kids didn’t imagine me to be a blue man with a ponytail.” You said, feeling how tired he was. No sleep could subside that.

Sam was hanging by the thread of sanity and good mental health, while his older brother had waves of sorrow and pain crashing into him every second of the day. He was craving something so desperately he was embarrassed of it.

Dean’s lips formed a small O. “Oh, okay.”

“How do people, or kids, summon you?” Sam asked. Real world was a bit different than the cartoon. The part where you live in a lamp at least.

"You just have to rub the lamp the right way" Dean was just waiting for the moment to make this reference since he was secretly a big Christina Aguilera fan. You chuckled, remembering the first time you heard that song in a bar of all places. Sam just looked at Dean like he was about to punch him. Dean grinned.

“That’s gross, Dean.”

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.” You finally explained, eyes fixed on Dean. You knew what he craved, you could see right through him, even though he tried to hide it by avoiding your gaze.

“What are you going to do now?” Dean asked you, still avoiding meeting your eyes. He was looking at the book shelf right behind you.

You smirked and stood up. “Might pay you a visit.” Was all you said before you disappeared, leaving both brothers perplexed and a little tipsy.

***

When Sam and Dean came back to the bunker, the younger brother decided it was time to rest while the older one was pondering over your last words.

“Might pay you a visit.”

He couldn’t help but remember your sharp and rather strange gaze. Something about it intimidated him – he felt naked whenever you would look at him. He was a closed forbidden book, only Sam could open it and yet in your presence he was completely exposed – or at least that was how he felt. The thought of you was consuming him slowly, in the shower, in the kitchen, before dinner, after dinner… When he finally went to bed he caved in, remembering your words.

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.”

He was slowly drifting, his mind scattered and consumed with only your picture. As his eyes became heavy he heard a whisper – he knew he wasn’t dreaming yet.

“Dean!”

His head left the soft surface of his pillow as he opened his eyes only to see you standing next to his bed.

“G?” He whispered as his hand reached over and turned on the lamp on his night stand.

“I can feel it, y’ know” You said and sat on the edge of his bed. He sat up, back against the headboard.

“Feel what?” He asked even though something was already telling him the answer he thought he didn’t know.

“Your soul is aching, Dean. There’s not enough alcohol and meaningless night stands in this world to ease your pain. It’s too sharp, too deep. You broke my heart as soon as you set me free.”

You knew pain. You felt it all. In sick children, in traumatized adults – you knew every shape it would take, but Dean’s pain was impossible to feel. It was too much even for you.

“I didn’t realize you’re a shrink too.” The sass was evidently just a coping mechanism – one of the masks he would wear to survive this terrible life he was living.

You weren’t bothered by his words. You knew he would eventually say the forbidden words. Without warning you climbed into his bed and sat on his lap, both of your legs on his sides. You stared at him, fingers tracing along his cheeks, jaw, until you reached his perfectly full lips. He was beautiful – one of the most beautiful humans you have ever seen. His genetic blessings didn't outshine his blessings from within. His soul, even broken and in pain, was still full of love and compassion. It was such a beautiful mix of love and tragedy. Your face was inches away from his and as you got closer, the pain got sharper. You were ready to make him feel whole again, but he had to say the words.

“I know what you crave, Dean. I can feel it.”

“A sexy chick wearing a Zorro mask on top of me?” Still with the humor. You found it cute to an extent. Silly Dean.

“Meaningless sex won’t fix that, y’ know?”

“Yeah,” He finally gave up the shenanigans when he saw you weren’t buying the shit he was trying to sell. “I’ve learnt to live with it.”

You could feel his hot breath against your face as you got even closer. Dean’s eyes softened, jaw relaxed as he cupped your cheek. He only now noticed how beautiful and angelic you look, even under the light of his shitty lamp on the nightstand. Your soft skin under his fingertips felt a little too intimate for him, and yet he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

“You don’t have to live with it though. I can make it go away, you just have to say the words.”

You cupped his hand with yours, his touch sending shivers all over your body. You really liked the sensation. You were craving more. His hand was hot, soft and human. No man nor woman has touched you like this.  

“You mean like, make a wish?” He was finally starting to get it.

“That’s how it goes, right?” You smiled.

“Christ.” – he muttered before swallowing nervously – “I wish I didn’t feel like this.”

“Like what? My magic cannot read minds. You have to be specific.”

He took a deep breath, feeling like he was about to embarrass himself. Verbalizing emotions wasn’t something he was comfortable with. “I wish the pain I feel didn’t exist,” He stated and the words just kept coming. “I wish I wasn't so... broken? I wish for more than just meaningless night stands.” He confessed before it hit him. “Wait, does this count as 3 wishes?”

“You can wish as many things as your heart desires, handsome. Now, close your eyes!”

Dean closed his beautiful green eyes as you went in for a kiss. It usually doesn't work like that. You weren't a crossroads demon. You would usually just snap your fingers and disappear right after. Your magic was powerful and yet simple. But this time it was different. This time a man with a broken soul asked to feel whole again, to feel again. He wanted more than meaningless transactional touches and kisses so you decided to give him what he wanted. You have never come across such a special soul like Dean Winchester. He was giving too much and yet the world was consumed by greed and constantly wanted more. His brother Sam was everything he had, his rock, his world and yet even he couldn't heal things inside of his older brother. Dean was tired of feeling like this.

The kiss was innocent and your first. You didn't exactly know what you were doing but you liked it. His lips were soft and lonely. He was hungry for a connection he didn't have. His body was desperate to be touched. His hand went in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss, leaving you hot and panting. You have seen people kiss and sleep with each other. You were an avid watcher of rom coms – your favorite pastime whenever you would roam around the world, traveling and making people smile.

Even The Genie needed air, so when you couldn't breathe anymore you broke the kiss. Dean's eyes full of adoration refusing to stop looking at you. How strange how now he was ready to strip his soul and actually look at you.

Your fingers intertwined with his as you pushed them above his head, your face dangerously close to him. You wanted to kiss him again.

"Am I supposed to feel different now?"

"No, this isn't something I can fix with a simple kiss. Your soul is craving another soul and I intend to give you mine. Kiss me!"

Dean lifted his head from the pillow and kissed you again this time slipping his tongue right away in your mouth. His kisses were coded with mint and you liked the taste.

It felt like an instinct almost when your hips started moving, grinding against his dick – only your panties and his boxers separating you. He was already hard and desperate, moving up and down trying too hard to satisfy the need that was only growing stronger.

You have never surrendered yourself so freely, letting a human touch you, let alone kiss you like he did, but you have never had a man like Dean asking you to fix something within him that the world so joyfully broke.

His hands were roaming freely all over your body, studying the shapes along the material of your dress as your lips never left his, until he started kissing your jaw and neck, sending you into a blissful euphoria you never knew existed in the first place. You let out a sigh as your hands went into his hedgehog like hair.

"Love me, Dean!" You spoke between pathetic moans and sighs. "Love me and I'll be yours forever!"

He heard you but his lips were too busy getting drunk on your neck to say anything so he just took you by the waist with both hands and like you were nothing flipped you over.

His lips found yours again in a desperate sleepless hunger as your hand took his and guided him to your already wet underwear.

"Touch me! I'm yours!" You said, letting him know he could. It has been a long time for him and you could feel the nervousness pumping through his veins. As soon as his fingers touched the wet fabric of your panties, pushing it lightly against your wet cunt, you moaned.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, again showing you how beautiful and carrying he was.

You placed a kiss on his lips. "Yes, I am sure."

Your voice was sweet like honey and Dean was experiencing a sugar rush.

“Oh and you can leave my dress on. I can feel how much you like it.” You added and winked.

Dean didn’t quite understand what you meant by that so he asked.

“Can you read minds?”

You smiled. He was adorable. “Not exactly. I can feel it. Your desires, what troubles you – everything. It comes in waves.”

You didn’t let him say anything, instead you crashed your lips on his as your hands went underneath his shirt feeling his soft skin covered in scars. If only he knew his soul shared the same resemblance. Dean realized where your hands were and in a second got rid of the t-shirt.

“I want you!” You whispered into his ear.

He was hypnotized, not really aware of his surroundings, his hardships, his name. Only you existed in his brain, heart and soul.

He took off his boxers, and your panties moments later – leaving you only in your dress and pressed the tip of his dick against your entrance. Nose touching, eyes locked, feeling each other’s breaths on your faces he entered you slowly. It didn’t occur to you that it would hurt since it was your first time. You gasped at the new sensation.

“You’re so tight!” Dean whispered. “Jesus!”

“Move! Please!” You begged. He didn’t need to know. He was your first and only one. After this night your soul will be bound with his, forever.

He moved slowly first, letting you adjust and relax under him. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as soon as waves of pleasure started splashing you. The pain was gone and you were in pure bliss.

“God, you’re beautiful!” He told you, placing kisses along your jaw.

You moaned his name in response as his pace became faster, his thrusts harder. Your body was on fire and yet you felt a sense of calm. You could feel his pain slowly fading. His worries disappeared. You were stitching him back together.

“You’ll feel whole again!” You said before kissing him.

As he was pounding into you, you could feel something building up in the lower part of your stomach. Your eyes, usually sapphire blue, started fading, replacing the shade with a very light baby blue color. You grinned when you realized what was happening. His wish was about to come true.

“Your eyes –” Dean noticed but you sealed his mouth with a kiss. As he was slamming into you, your climax hit you like a truck. Your body was stiff, pure pleasure engulfing you completely – nothing you have ever experienced before. Dean didn’t stop until he came seconds later, panting and whimpering – completely falling apart from pleasure. He collapsed on you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

“This feels different.” He said, trying to catch his breath.

“How so?”

“Feels like love.”

“Your wish is my command!”

You didn’t leave that night. He fell asleep in your arms, for the first time and in a long time, snoring. No nightmares.  His pain was gone. Since sleep was an unfamiliar concept for you, you just enjoyed his presence while your soul was warming up his now healed one.

You knew you weren’t free to roam the world anymore. You were content with being his – forever.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fluff #supernatural fluff #spn drabble #spn fanfic #spn fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Shuri x Reader No More Misunderstandings

Summary: One of your classmates overstep your boundaries and Shuri isn't having it.

Warnings: Violence, Attempted assault

"Alright make sure you go over the entire lesson tonight. We will be having the test tomorrow class is dismissed" The professor announced.

The entire class let out a collective groan as the professor just waved it off turning around to wipe his whiteboard clean. You dropped your head onto the desk letting out a sigh of exasperation. You were hoping the test would be put off until Friday, but then again this professor had a thing about. Not wanting to disturb his student's weekend fun.

In the beginning all of you thought it was a good thing a professor who didn't hold any important exams during the last two days before the weekend. But sometimes it could be annoying to have a test so early in the week. When most of you were still recovering from the after effects of partying too hard. The lesson here was don't party too hard, but that wasn't your problem. Parties weren't really your scene and you didn't really show your face at most of them. You were too busy trying to keep up with your classes, working an internship at one of the biggest news company in the world, and tutoring on the side. And tonight you had a three-hour tutor session with a close friend who needed it badly. Which left you with two options for studying for this test.

Cram in a last minute study session before class tomorrow, and pray that photographic memory will work its magic. Or pull an all nighter to study and catch up on sleep on the weekend.

You started packing up your bag knowing the professor would start rushing any remaining students out in a minute or two. When Aisha walked into the booth to stand over you. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it just as fast with a frown.

You looked up at her raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Can I help you Aisha?"

"I don't want to overstep my boundaries" she said still a little hesitant.

"With what?" You asked having a slight idea of what it was.

"You're tutoring Skylar tonight right?"

You nodded with a frown hoping she wasn't about to threaten you or anything. The two of them had started to date during the summer, but broke it off only a month ago. Rumor has it Aisha was the one to call things off, so why was she approaching you now about her ex was beyond you? You thought she was going to drill you for info on your relationship with a certain Princess. After you accidentally brought the relationship to light with a careless social media post.

"Don't think too much of what I'm about to say, but I don't think you should be the one tutoring her. Just tell her to go find someone else there are plenty other students who can do it" Aisha said.

"Maybe later this week but not so last minute and she has major quiz coming up tomorrow. I can't cancel on her last minute Aisha" You protested.

"Y/N trust me when I say its in your best interest to just not do it" she argued again. There was a little whine to her voice now.

"Wow not only did you break her heart but now you want her to fail her classes." You replied standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"There was a reason I broke up with her you know" Aisha shot back with hurt filled eyes.

You could tell that you had struck a nerve, and brought up some unpleasant memories. That's when it occurred to you no one really knew why she had broke things off with Skylar in the first place. Whenever someone tried to get her to open up Aisha would just shutdown the conservation. And it was crazy considering you and her use to be good friends until she started dating Skylar. After that both of them kind of started shutting you out, and after the breakup. Skylar came crawling back to you for a shoulder to cry on which you provided her with.

Which is why you were having a hard time believing this was anything other than her being the jealous ex, and trying to get back at Skylar for whatever reason.

"Whatever Aisha I got to go if you want to tell me what's the real reason I can't tutor her then you know where to find me. Our session starts in about an hour so please speak up before then if it's that important." You told her then pushed past her to leave but she caught you by the wrist.

"Y/N just wait I'm ser-"

You yanked your wrist free of her grip, and continued on your way. Aisha tried to call out for you to stop, but you were done with her games.

Aisha never came to your dorm where you tended to hold your tutoring sessions. You were one of those lucky students who didn't have to deal with a roommate. So the massive space was all yours, and you went all out on the decorations. Half of your dorm was renovated into a small work study space.

A knock came from the door pulling your attention from the pizza bagels that you were throwing into the oven. You always provided snacks when a session was going to last longer than a hour, and kept note of what people liked. You walked over to open the door, and indeed it was Skylar dressed in black basketball shirts, and a black tank top. No doubt the girl had just come from basketball practice her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sorry for my attire I would've been late if I tried to make it to my dorm to change. Practice ran a little later than usual I swear coach was trying to kill us today. I did manage to shower before coming so I don't smell at least." Skylar said rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

You waved her off with a laugh and reached out to take her by the hand pulling her into the room. "Girl you're fine I tutor half of the football team, so trust me I've seen worse. Those boys tend to come to our sessions sweaty and all."

She grimaced at that. "And you let them in."

"It depends sometimes all they need is a quick wash off in a bathroom, but if its really bad then no" You told her.

She laughed dropping her gym bag in the corner of the study space. You already had everything you guys would need to start set up on a table by the comfy couch. Skylar fell back into the cushions and you sat down beside her.

"Snacks will be ready in about twenty more minutes we'll take our first break then let's get started."

"You really are the best y/n" she beamed.

It was an hour into the session when the two of you actually got around to taking a break. The pizza bagels had to be reheated, but that was the good thing about cheap food. Skylar was leaned back in the corner of the couch plate of food in her lap. When you returned with a soda for her and a water for yourself. You placed the soda on the table, and mimc her position letting yourself relax.

"So you and the Princess of Wakanda huh" she stated breaking the silence.

You threw your head back with a chuckle before replying. "Alright what do you want to know?" Skylar wouldn't be the first girl to try and get details of your relationship with Shuri. While usually you would just shut the conservation down and change the topic. You figured it wasn't a horrible idea to feed her some information. Nothing to revealing but just enough so she would have something to gossip about with the basketball team later. Rumors about you and Shuri were already starting to circulate around campus, and while none of them had reached your ears yet. You knew people were getting antsy and were coming up with their own theories. This way you get could get ahead of it and at least some of what would be said would actually be true.

"Are you happy?" Skylar asked almost a little hesitant. Your head snapped in her direction. She was staring down at her food as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

"Um yeah I am" You answered not hiding the tone of confusion in your voice.

She let out a low hum nodding her head. A few seconds went by before she spoke again. "I mean it can't be easy with the long distance thing you know."

"Its not but nothing in this world comes easy you know especially love. I think that's why so many couples don't last these days everyone is convinced that love is supposed to be the easiest thing in the world, and when things get hard. They choose to walk away instead of fighting for one another." You told her a dreamy expression taking over your face. Thoughts of Shuri and all your favorite moments flooded your brain.

"Yeah but its not just the distance I mean the girl is a Princess of a whole other country with like royal duties to attend to. Plus I mean people are saying she is the Black Panther now, so doesn't that make her an Avenger too. So on top of being in charge of an entire nation of people. She also has the save the world fro-" Skylar rambled on until you held up a hand to shut her up.

"Skylar I don't need you map out all the obstacles of our relationship. I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. You're not telling me anything I don't already know" You snapped angrily.

"I'm just saying is there even room for you in her life? Don't you think you would be better off with someone like you." She argued setting her plate down on the table.

"Like me how" You said with your frown now turning into a scowl.

"I don't know normal I mean-"

"Skylar what is all of this about? What are you trying to accomplish with this conservation?" You questioned her the rage in your voice undeniable.

Skylar flinched at the tone and ran a hand through her hair letting out a sound of frustration. "I just want to make sure you're happy with her."

"Well I thought I made it clear that I was, but here you are trying to poke holes into my relationship."

"Because I think you would be happier with me" she cried getting to her feet. Skylar left the work space area to head to the kitchen.

It finally dawned on you the real reason as to why Aisha warned you not to tutor her tonight. "Sky why did you and Aisha really break up?"

"We weren't a good match for each other" she lied, and you could see it in her eyes.

"Try again" You demanded.

"Because I was into you I've always been into you since freaking high school y/n, and I thought Aisha would help me get over you but it wasn't working. She wanted me to stop being friends with you, and I tried at first but it really sucked. We argued about it and she dumped me" Skylar told you refusing to look in your direction.

This was all news to you while you and Skylar had known each other since freshmen year in high school, and were pretty close friends. You never thought the girl had feelings for you, but then again you were so focused on your studies in high school. You were oblivious to most teenage things like puppy love.

"I know what you're thinking y/n and what I feel for you goes way beyond some stupid crush. Okay I really really like you and I have for a long time now. I think you like me back too now you're just afraid to admit it."

That had you getting to your feet with your hands held up in front of you to ward her off. Skylar had started moving towards you but paused. "Skylar listen I'm sorry if I've been giving you the wrong impression these past couple of months. But I'm not into like that okay I just wanted to be there for you. I thought I was helping you recover from a broken heart. Not leading you on that was never my intention. I love Shuri."

It was as if you drove a knife in her heart with your last words as her expressions went from hopeful to hurt then anger. "Are you freaking serious y/n you never gave us a chance."

"There is no us Sky" You sighed in frustration moving away from the couch. As she started to advance on you again with a look of determination.

"Just one kiss alright" she suggested.

You frowned "fuck no."

"Why not? You that scared you might feel something for me" Skylar pushed now standing right in front of you.

"Listen you just need to leave okay" You ordered her backing up further into your bedroom space.

"All I want is one kiss your precious princess will never know, and you owe me at least that." Skylar insisted following you relentlessly. Before you could tell her to leave again she was on you gripping your waist painfully to pull your body against hers. You placed your hands on her shoulder to shove her away, but she stood her ground. Unfortunately Skylar was a seasoned athlete and that overall made her slightly stronger and bigger than you muscle wise. You started to retreat backwards but once again she matched your pace.

"Skylar let me go" You shouted pushing at her shoulders.

"Just one fucking kiss it won't kill you" Skylar shot back now sounding a bit more angry than before. The back of your knees hit your bed, and with a shove from her. You fell back onto the bed and before you right yourself. Skylar was on top of you attempting to kiss you on the lips, but you turned your head to the side.

"Skylar no I'm serious alright get the hell off of me" You told her trying to sound as forceful as you could. Panic was starting to kick in as you attempted to bring your knee up in her stomach to put some space between your bodies. "I said no."

There was a hint of desperation behind the hunger look in her eyes. Skylar wanted no needed this but you weren't about to give in. Just as you were feeling hopeless her weight was lifted from your body, and Skylar found herself flying through the air. A silent scream left her mouth as she flew back to hit the floor on her back. The impact made a loud thud sound mixed with her cry of pain.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to see who or what had got her off of you. Shuri stood in front of you with her back to you facing Skylar who had now recovered, and scrambled back into the door. The Princess was dressed in one of signature jumpsuit this one was black matched with some black Nike shoes. The most current ones to drop she stood tall over your now ex-friend.

Shuri slowly stalked towards the crying girl who winced when she attempted to climb to her feet. You couldn't see your girlfriend's face but didn't need to. In order to know she had a look of murderous rage from the way fear had gripped Skylar.

"Did your parents not teach you that no means no" Shuri finally spoke up. Her tone was dangerously calm and it sent chills down your spine.

"Princess um listen I-I-I um" Skylar stuttered out.

"Use your words usisidenge" Shuri snapped.

Skylar flinched but found her voice to plead her case. "I just misunderstood-"

"Did you not hear her the no or get off because I certainly did halfway down the hall" Shuri said cutting her off. With her super hearing the Princess was able to hear your struggles with Skylar from outside of the building. The distress in your voice is what made her rush up the stairs instead of using the elevator.

"Um yeah I did" Skylar admitted.

"Then what exactly did you misunderstand" The Princess asked her anger becoming more evident by the second.

Skylar was finally able to push herself up into a standing position, but before she could make a move to grasp the doorknob. Shuri was right in front of hair wrapping a hand around her thoart to slam her back into the door. Skylar cried out in pain but the cry turned into gasp for air as Shuri squeezed.

You finally regained feeling in your legs and jumped off the bed to run over to them.

"If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, or if she tells me you're giving her trouble. I swear you are going to wish you had never met y/n do you understand me?" Shuri seethed.

"Shuri stop you're too strong you're going to hurt her" You protested. Without thinking you grabbed the back of her jacket, and blinded by rage Shuri threw her other hand out knocking you away. She must have been somewhat aware of her actions, because of the force was only strong enough to make you stumble back. You tripped over your own feet and fell to the floor. If she had been using her full strength your body would've went sailing through the air.

Shuri turned her attention to you real quick to fix you with a stern glare. The message was clear stay back and let her handle this. While you were scared for what she might do to Skylar, and low key felt bad for her. Skylar brought it upon herself and kind of deserved it. Plus it not like Shuri had lost all control over her anger. Your ex-friend was able to take a few straggled breaths of air.

"Please I'm sorry Princess" she whimpered holding onto Shuri's wrist with tears pooling in her eyes.

"You're sorry you got caught" Shuri corrected her tightening her grip for just a second before relaxing it again. "You got any classes with y/n transfer out of them tomorrow. You see her coming down a hallway or into a building change directions. I mean it I don't want you anywhere near her, and don't let there be anymore misunderstandings Sky." Her tone was condescending when she used the girl's nickname.

Skylar nodded desperately pulling at her hand. "I understand" she pleaded. Just like that Shuri released her hold on her neck and took a step back. But the girl didn't dare move letting the Princess walk over to get her bag. Where she began to stuff her paperwork and textbook into it carelessly. Once she was done Shuri motioned for her to open to the door which Skylar did practically running out of it into the safety of the hallway. The Princess heaved her bag after her, and slammed the door shut.

For a few minutes there was just silence as Shuri kept her back to with her hands balled into fists pressed into the door. She was breathing hard trying to calm herself down. You were back on your feet now and walked over to her wrapping your arms around her waist from behind. You rested your head on her back and let out a soft hum. "My guardian angel."

Shuri let out a chuckle and turned around in your arms. You let out a yelp as she lifted you into her arms bridal style. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to push you I swear." She whispered her tone apologetic.

"I know" you told her.

She walked over to the bed and fell back onto it with you in her arms. You moved so your body was only lying on her halfway with your legs off to the side. "Who was that girl?" Shuri questioned her brows furrowing.

"One of my friends from high school she's never acted like that before. Apparently she's had feelings for me a while and I just didn't notice. Another girl tried to warn me not to tutor her I thought she was being the vengeful ex. I should've listened" You explained a bit ashamed. When you turned your head to the side Shuri gripped your chin bringing your face back to hers.

"Hey none of what happened is your fault you know that. You were just doing your job as a tutor Skylar was the one who screwed up" Shuri said. You could see her muscles tense when at the name.

"I know I'm lucky you came to the rescue. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Wakanda is in a pretty good place right now so I felt like they would be okay without me for a few days. I wanted to surprise you"

"Well you surely did" You whispered your lips only inches from hers now. Shuri closed the distance craning her head forward to mash her soft lips up against yours. You responded immediately kissing back with an urgency. While you wouldn't admit it seeing her rough house Skylar earlier and all protective had sparked something in you. It turned you more than anything. Your lips moved in sync with hers in not so gentle kiss. You bit her lip as you finally pulled away for air.

"Don't you have a test in the morning sthandwa" Shuri whispered as you nuzzled your nose into her neck. Her body heating up as you planted kisses on her collarbone.

"You're worth the failing grade" You replied back sealing your lips back onto hers. The kiss was brief as Shuri moved away flipping you around so you were under her body.

She put her lips to your ear "I am but I don't want to hear you cry about later."

Just like that Shuri righted herself chuckling at the pout on your face. "Don't worry you're going to have me to yourself all week entle. Which means we can also throw in some self-defense lessons as well."

"Alright that's fair" You conceded throwing yourself backward into the bed. Shuri had gotten up to get your textbook and was now settled beside you again.

"Come on now let's study for every question you get right it earns you a kiss."

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #black panther imagine #shuri x reader #shuri imagine

[thisismeracing]

Hello! I think #3 is available? Can I request that one for micky? 😊

Of course! 🥰 here you go, sorry for taking forever to finish it

From the Quick Prompt List: 3. “Some lies are made to be told”

word count: 0.8k

pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x mick schumacher

warnings: angstyyyy, not proofread, mentions of a wedding (idk if this could be a tw, but better be safe than sorry). open ending (more like no happy endings, but whatever).

There are many types of lies. There are the small ones such as when you go visit a friend and they ask if you're hungry, and you tell them no when, in reality, you are starving. There are also the medium ones, such as when someone asks if you're jealous of a person and you say no but you are biting your nails and digging into your skin. And then, there are the bigger ones, such as the one Mick Schumacher told Yn.

Those more significant lies tend to blow everything up when their truth comes to light, yet, for some reason, Mick did not consider that possibility and went on to deny his feelings until he couldn't anymore.

And the day he couldn't anymore, just happened to be the day of Yn's and Jack's wedding. He knew that to outsiders he may seem like an asshole, but nevertheless, he reached his breaking point. He thought he could keep up with the charade, but it turns out lying to yourself is even worse and makes the biggest of a lie unbearable.

"What did you just say?" Yn asked with her voice strained, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

Mick gulped, and took a deep breath, but did not look away from her eyes when he repeated, "I am in love with you, and have been since the beginning. I am so sorry, Yn, I'm just so miserable keeping it-"

"Why didn't you tell me before??" she almost screamed, she wanted to scream, to slap him. Yn wanted many things but the biggest was to cry. She felt like lying on the cold hard ground and crying herself to sleep because that could not be true, Mick was her now husband's best friend. The blonde finally dropped his eyes to the ground, his tipsy state made him stumble, but he held on to the chair. "We talked about feelings years ago, Mick, and you told me it was all in my head. You told me you did not feel anything, you told me to stay with Jack." She was furious because from the moment Jack introduced them Yn knew that the way she looked at Schumacher was not the way you were supposed to when in a relationship. And to make matters worse, she felt like he reciprocated everything, there was some kind of tension, and they set an unspoken rule about not acting on it, however, one wine-induced night they talked about it, and she confessed her feelings, but he denied his. He was hell-bent on the bro code, or whatever people would call it. Mick would never steal his best friend's girl, especially because he knew how crazy Jack was about Yn.

Mick did not answer her question, he just looked outside through the big window watching their friends and families drink and eat and happily enjoy the wedding reception.

Yn and Jack decided to marry at the beach, and it was only fair in their minds for the reception to happen there. They had the easiness of getting ready and being close to the beach house, but still thoroughly enjoy a wedding and reception at the same place since the beach was secluded and big enough to comport their families and closest friends.

Right now, Yn was hating the idea because it meant that she and Mick had all the privacy the house could give and he could do what he just did: confess his feelings.

"Answer me, dammit!" Now the tears in her eyes finally spilled. Mick's face crumbled, it pained him so much to see her cry and to be the reason for it? It was like getting hit by a truck. A truck full of all the moments he lied to her and to himself. A truck full of all his untold feelings and unacted moments. A truck full of regrets.

He understands now when his friend Daniel would say "No regrets, just memories" and encourage people to act on their shit instead of regretting not doing so in the future.

"Some lies are made to be told, or so I thought" he whispers. It's a ghost of his voice because now he's crying too.

"You're a coward, Mick Schumacher," she seethes.

The German takes another step back. Yn's the one driving the truck now, and she decided to go full force on him. But it was ok, or so he thought, because maybe he deserved it, maybe he was being an asshole.

"How do you expect me to go around now knowing you loved me back all this time?" Yn's crying is getting harder, her makeup running down her face.

"I- Wait- You love me?"

"I did, but it's too late now," she murmurs before turning her back to him and leaving a tipsy Mick to fall to the ground. The truth may set people free, but he thinks this time it just chained both of them.

I did not like this piece that much because for some reason dumb-ol-me could not remember what was my initial idea when I wrote this prompt. I'm really sorry, guys, but I hope this was something at least bearable lol *mwah*

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x you #blurbs #prompt party #millie writes #requests #mick schumacher one shot #jack doohan #< for filtering purposes #ms47

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi! May I request a Daryl x female reader the scene where he and Beth played “never have I ever” while drinking moonshine but with female reader?. With some angst and fluff? If it’s okay of course :3

Yes! This is so cute. For some reason I can't remember them playing never have I ever, am I dumb?🙃

"Never thought you were a drinker." Daryl grumbles, taking a sip of his moonshine while motioning to the half empty jar in my hands, my lips burning and stomach clenching at the lack of food.

"I'm not. Must be genetic." I mutter with a sad smile, taking another burning sip of the potent drink, face screwing up in disgust but there's something about the fuzziness that fills my brain every time I take a sip.

"Yeah?" He asks with a gentle laugh.

"Wanna play a game?" I ask suddenly, watching Daryl's brows pull together in confusion. I almost expect him to say no and for him to tell me to shut the fuck up but he doesn't.

"What kinda game?" He questions with a gentle tilt of his head, pulling his knees up to his chest and he leans against the beam of the front porch.

"Never have I ever?" I offer with a smirk, hoping to pull any and all information from him in his state of vulnerability caused by the alcohol.

"I don't think there's much I ain't never done." He admits with a gentle dusting of a blush on his cheeks that I can pick out in the moonlight above us and I grin wickedly, hoping he'll come up with something.

"Whatever. You know how to play?" I ask and he nods, taking another swig before explaining.

"I say something I never done and if you've done it, you drink?"

"Yep, pretty simple." I nod, my heart pounding nervously in my chest, hoping this game will get me closer to him whether that be physically or even just emotionally. "You go first." He thinks for a minute, biting at his lip as he looks out into the woods.

"Never have I ever been in love." His comment makes me sad almost, lips tugging down into a frown as I he shakes his head at me, telling me stop feeling sorry for him.

"You seriously haven't?" I ask and he shakes his head, taking a hefty chug of his moonshine that's nearly gone.

"Don't think so. You?"

"Yeah. Don't like to talk about it though." I huff, taking another drink "Never have I ever smoked weed." I smile, watching his eyes roll teasingly at me.

"Ouch." He takes a large swig, emptying it without the slightest bit of a reaction and he reaches over to grab another, opening it without hesitation. "Don't know if I would've gotten my way through teenage years without it." He admits and it makes perfect sense. I can almost picture Daryl sitting on a couch with his brother, joint between his fingers, ten years younger. That's a handsome picture. "Never have I ever..." He pauses, looking at me intently with a soft look, almost bashful. "...been kissed."

My jaw drops at his confession, brows pulling together as I begin to think back, trying to think of a time where Daryl would've mentioned a past significant other but I can't put my finger on one time where he even mentioned kissing someone- it makes so much more sense.

"You haven't?" I ask, simply out of shock. I know Daryl, I know him, and it's shocking to me that no one, not even some hooker that I know Merle would invest in, would kiss him.

"Ain't that stupid." He scoffs, reaching up to run a hand through his greasy hair, giving it a frustrated tug.

"Not stupid at all." I say before I can stop myself. It must be the alcohol running through my veins and running my brain. "I mean, I could- if you want." I offer nervously, fully prepared for him to shoot me down but when he gives me a little sideways glance, not completely sure if I mean it, I know that he just might consider it.

"Yeah?" He asks, scooting towards me shamelessly and I feel butterflies bubbling in my belly at just the feeling of him so close to me, all I'd have to do is lean in and...

When my lips meet his, he flinches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead he stays frozen until my hand reaches up to rest on his cheek, a smile slipping across my lips at his bashfulness. He pulls away after a moment, eyes wide and lips swollen and I giggle, reaching up to wipe at my lips.

"Yeah..." He mutters, eyes moving in a triangle between my eyes and my lips, almost as if he's asking for another.

"Yeah?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres

#daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

[silkscream]

could you do a peter request where reader is feeling insecure bc guys treat her like she’s disposable so she’s sulking to peter asking if she isn’t pretty/funny/whatever enough but then he tells her she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and they have angsty soft sex

ੈ✩ pairing: peter parker x reader

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+ only), angst,

ੈ✩ wc: 1.7k

the familiar tapping on your window comes as a mirage to you, but when the red-suited figure comes into view, your pulse is calmed only slightly when he brings you back to reality. burrowed in your blankets, you flash your best friend a half-hearted smile.

“hey, bug boy.”

“hey! i brought over those leftovers you wanted. also, mr. delmar gave me an extra brownie for you and i had to stop ned from eating it— hey, are you okay?”

“mhm.”

“you look like you’re crying,” peter furrows his brows, quick to discard his suit and pull over a sweatshirt of his that he’d left in the corner of your room as he makes his way over to your bed.

“‘m fine, pete,” you mumble. “gonna put on some pants any time, soon?

“y/n,” he emphasizes, a frown setting on his face. he touches your cheek carefully, almost timidly. peter parker has been your best friend since middle school, yet he still doesn’t know what your boundaries are in regards to touching. you’re always the one to initiate it, with your hands absentmindedly running through his brown locks during movies or unprompted attacks so that he’d give you piggyback rides. for some reason, his fingertips to your face makes him feel like he’s stepping over a line.

“hey. you gotta talk to me. you know i’m not gonna leave you alone until you do.”

you chuckle, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you smile and attempt to cover your face with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“it’s stupid. i don’t— i thought that i was just bad at, at like, socializing. and then i hit it off with that guy lucas and he ghosted me which is fine, it’s just. i don’t know what’s wrong with me, peter.”

“what? nothing’s wrong with you. boys are assholes, okay? this dude doesn’t deserve you. you— i didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” peter blinks rapidly, the last sentence coming out rushed and mumbly. somehow, the topic of you dating people never came to mind considering how the two of you were always attached at the hip. the mention of another boy’s name makes his stomach drop. 

“i wasn’t— i’m certainly not now. it’s like, okay, i get laid for once, and then when i actually try to get close to someone they disappear. am i that fucking disposable?”

“you slept with him?”

“yes, peter, we’re all of age. some of us even have sex,” you snap at him. you regret it immediately when you see the look on his face. “i’m sorry. just— just forget it.”

you sigh and wipe your face, leaning your head away from him to stare your ceiling. you feel his body shift as he crawls into bed with you and you feel your heart leap.

“you are not disposable,” peter finally murmurs.

“i feel like something’s intrinsically wrong with me. always thought there was since i was born, maybe. like, maybe i can be abrasive or i’m not everyone’s type and maybe i’m even that fucking pretty, but jesus christ. it’s like i repel everyone i go near.”

“you couldn’t keep me away if you tried.”

when you turn your head, peter looks at you with the slightest tinge of pink on his cheekbones. his crooked nose quivers in the tiniest motion the way a rabbit would. you’ve always noticed when he did that but never thought to bring it up. his face scrunches up in a fit of worry when you don’t respond, so he chooses to stroke your scalp, which has your eyelids fluttering in response.

“thanks,” is all you can mutter at the moment, heart nearly pounding out of your chest from the sensation of your best friend touching you, even this chastely. you wonder if you’d go into cardiac arrest if he touched you anywhere else. 

he mumbles something unintelligible into your hair and the words of tenderness get muffled. 

“hm?” you muse.

“i think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“you do?” your voice nearly cracks. 

he simply smiles at you in this sad, genuine way — not out of pity, but out of admiration and bittersweetness. like he knows that the moment those words came out of his mouth that whatever would happen between the two of you might crash and burn completely, but he was okay with being the one who got hurt.

your lips meet his like a sucker punch. he tastes like rain. there’s a sharp inhale in his throat, the curve of his throat tightening as he nestles his palm into your shoulder. you feel like an overflowing sink suddenly, and you think that maybe peter prying you open would be the cure to your ailment, but you know that maybe you’ve gone too far.

you pry yourself away from him like a knife out of your gut.

“i’m sorry. ‘m really… emotional, and that wasn’t fair and you were probably just trying to make me feel better—“ his hot mouth shuts you up with with dizzying piety, his kisses washing away the hurt that’s charring the creaky floorboards of your heart. 

you don’t notice the tears fall because you feel too good. it feels better than any other time someone’s kissed you, because all those other times were devoid of passion completely. your bodies fuse together quickly like melting candle wax, legs intertwined. 

he pulls away when he feels the wetness on your cheeks touching his.

“are you okay?” he whispers, his voice thread-bare. 

“yeah. ‘m just happy,” you chuckle breathily. 

“but if you think this might be a bad idea—“

“i don’t care, peter,” you kiss him again, desperately rocking your hips against his as you nearly knock teeth. you’re surprised by the whimper that comes out of you. it almost hurts how badly you want him. you gasp when you feel his teeth on your neck.

he pushes you back onto your plush mattress with his hands clasped in yours. both of your movements are clumsy, feverish, but both of you are determined to break open the other. you feel him rutting underneath you, his hardness grazing your bare thighs, and oh, the slightest wetness.

peter forgets that he’d forgotten to put on pants completely until his eyes widen at the feeling of your fingertips grazing his hips, sliding under the elastic of his calvin kleins. in response, he gently yanks at your shirt, prompting you to take it off and lay bare in front of him.

his tongue swirls around your hard nipple, sucking and biting until he releases with a pop just to kiss you down your stomach. peter’s chestnut eyes have gone dark ochre with calloused hands holding down your hips. when his mouth reaches the band of your panties, you stop him. he looks at you curiously.

“can i eat you out?”

“i want you to fuck me,” you whimper.

“i wanted to make you come first,” he pecks your hip.

“y’probably will,” you gasp, pulling on his hair to bring him back to you while his hard cock brushes along your core. “just want you really bad. now.”

“anything for you.”

he swallows a gulp in his throat before removing his briefs the same time you discard your underwear. two lonely souls bare in front of each other, vulnerable like you’re meeting for the first time, yet this is all too familiar. peter doesn’t want you to know that he’s had too many dreams with this exact setting, and he can’t in his right mind believe that it’s actually happening now.

you buck your hips eagerly as he hovers above you. he chuckles at your desperation, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gliding his cock along the velvet of your slick cunt, then nudging inside of you. 

the moment you feel him, you let out a lewd moan that has him falling apart. the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

you whine louder as he pushes in and out of you slowly and he has to cover your mouth with his palm. your breath hitches in your throat as you mewl quietly, listening to the slow grunts and ragged moans falling out of his mouth.

“jesus christ,” he hisses. “you feel fucking amazing.”

despite the awkwardness, the sensation of him filling you up is too good to notice the gangling crossfire of limbs and mouths, experimental to the both of you considering this might as well serve as both of your first times. every lover that had made you feel disposable had now ceased to exist in your mind — there were no tears left to cry. there was only peter.

he tries something, pulls your body flush against his as he leans forward into the cruz of your thighs and lifts them just a bit higher. the tighter angle has the coil in your stomach ready to unravel at any moment. 

“oh my god,” your mouth spills. your nails mark the length of peter’s back with carnal heedlessness. 

“yeah, shit, yes—“ peter croaks into your collarbone. the sound of his voice so low and on edge turns you on to oblivion, and with the thickness of his cock hitting deeper into your cunt, your hypothesis is bound to come true.

when he thrusts into you faster, muscles tensed and hands pushing down on your stomach, your tears come back on impact.

“just like that, fuck,” you groan. “i think ‘m gonna…”

“let go for me, pretty,” he coaxes. 

jolts of lightning seize through your body as your vision blurs. he kisses you again and you bite on his lip, sucking gently to prevent yourself from screaming out of pleasure.

it sends him over the edge, until he spills himself into you with hushed groans. you bask in the way you’re flooded with him, his smell and his breath and his skin. as you both emerge back to your shared consciousness, your bodies stay together swathed in warmth.

of all the desolation you’d felt in your life, peter is perhaps the one thing to clear the fog. 

“i think you were made for me,” you whisper.

he lets out a breathy laugh, still recovering from his high. he takes your hands and kisses your knuckles. “i’m whatever you want me to be.”

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #spiderman x you #spiderman smut #tom holland smut

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: Obscure Head Canons (and Hypotheses) You’d Probably Develop When Reading the JJK Light Novels, Pt 1

For an anime with literally no filler episodes 🥹... the first light novel provides a brief insight into the days before (and behind the scenes of) the trauma. As someone who thrives on the misery of being a JJK fan, would the experience be complete without them? The answer doesn't matter because everything you need is below the jump! I saved my biggest theory for last so hop to the end for it.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning for Jujutsu Kaisen Summer of Ashes, Autumn of Dust and season 2 of the anime (manga spoilers are vague at best).

Head Canon: Gojo is the Riddler Purely For His Own Entertainment ✨

As someone who can process things the way a Six Eyes holder probably can, there’s no way he allows Yuji and Megumi to get the drop on him during their surveillance of sensei on his day off. But he takes them around (at a distance) doing silly things like record stores and maid cafes because I think it prompts them to enjoy things they wouldn’t. Especially Megumi. It’s kind of sweet, both their inherent curiosity about him but also lonely the way that he explores his whims so far removed from everyone else. It really highlights that “Who is Gojo Satoru?” question when you realize even Megumi’s interest was lowkey piqued at the possibly knowing a bit more about Gojo.

In the second story, Gojo speaks in straight up nonsense (think Mad Hatter) and it is no wonder when he's working alongside the most straight laced sorcerer there is, Nanami Kento. To a degree, I wonder if it’s genuine chaos spilling from his head or if he knows, after years of pushing Nanami’s buttons, how to precisely drive him up a wall. I question whether it's for his own entertainment or to his own alienation. Maybe Geto really was the only one who could follow the winding thread of Gojo’s thoughts.

Head Canon: Gojo Secretly Worries About Nanami

I think with Haibara’s death and the knowledge he would have made light work of whatever caused it, Gojo makes it a point to join Nanami on missions.. just in case. After all, Nanami and Shoko are all he has left from before. He’s lost many people and, as the strongest, I don’t think that fear is something he’d admit aloud, but its reality is demonstrably what pushes him forward physically and philosophically. In the story where they go on a mission together... it almost seems like an unspoken and uncomfortable understanding between them, the elephant in the room neither want to point out. People around Gojo never wanting to acknowledge how his strength eclipses theirs is rather common which we see with Nanami in this story and even Ijichi later. So while he may make light of this chasm, he still pops in as an unsolicited protector. With grace, he allows Nanami to assume he's just being a nuisance but I really think he takes an ounce of prevention where possible when it comes to the people he cares for. After all, imagine the turmoil if he ever came to realize his absence could make or break another person's survival again.

Head Canon: The Elders Have Always Known, If It Came Down to it, Gojo Would Always Choose Geto

There’s a reason they kept the idea of reanimating the dead a secret specifically from Gojo. In fact, they should probably consider themselves lucky that he was so vehemently disgusted with the curse user capable of such puppetry. I wonder if he experienced hope before allowing the reality of the sham magic to break his heart all over again because, in their secrecy, it seems like they know the lengths he’d go to protect and choose Geto. Geto was allowed to walk the earth for 10 years after his execution was ordered. Maybe they were right to keep it close to the chest. Gojo still saved his body, after all. To what end when he knew a body can run the risk of becoming a curse?

Head Canon: Gojo Saved Ijichi's Life but Condemned Him to Something Worse

Okay so this is kind of a manga spoiler (though I believe the flash back is during the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc) but, as a student, Gojo straight up told Ijichi he was weak and should find something else to do so he doesn't get himself killed. So he does. He becomes a steadfast and detail oriented manager which is a critical fixture in jujutsu society but damn, doesn't it just put Ijichi in an ivory tower of suffering? Years pass as he sends first his juniors, then fresh sets of kids into dangerous battle after dangerous battle. Some survive, some don't and all serve as a reminder of his powerlessness. He can cross every "t" and dot every "i" and it still doesn't prevent what happened to Yuji at the Juvenile center from happening. What does that do to one's soul?

Head Canon: Gojo Still Thinks "We Are the Strongest"

As seen with the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arc, we know that Gojo saw an exponential growth in response to the losses suffered. It seemingly drove a wedge between he and Geto as Geto struggled to grapple with his powerlessness. With his defection, we see where Gojo changes his posturing from "we are the strongest" to "I am the strongest" but in the back of his mind (Alexa, play "Always Forever" by Cults 🫠), we know he still holds a soft spot for his first and last warm spring of youth. At the end of JJK 0, he refers to Geto in the present tense, as his "best friend, [his] one and only." Even after everything, I truly think Gojo leaves space for Geto beside him. This is furthered in the light novel during a story which is placed post Junpei and upon Yuji's return to life at Jujutsu High. Yuji, while still playing dead, helped a kid who had a grade 3 curse that seemed to be resurrecting and, after exorcising it multiple times felt he needed Gojo's assistance. When Gojo refused, he resigned himself to ask Nanamin for help wherein Gojo employed a Teachable Moment (TM).

He approached Itadori, who was hanging his head. "In this world, tragedies too often end in misery, even when it's possible to help. But the problem isn't lack of strength or getting there too late." As Gojo passed Itadori, he patted him on the head without making eye contact. "The main reason it happens is that people forget they have the strength to help."

This was enough to restore Yuji's confidence in his own competence but also sounds informed by what happened between Geto and Gojo in a sense. I interpret Gojo's assertion to center Geto to be the assumed lack of strength (which was most pertinent to how he was advising Yuji) and himself with the poor timing. Ultimately, to Gojo it doesn't matter because he never thought Geto was weak. The insecurity was a product of a situation he failed to reason himself out of, at the time, and it bred resentment within him alone. I don't think Gojo blamed Geto for anything that happened with Riko nor could he blame himself. It simply spurned him to figure out ways to limit his vulnerability in the future. In the face of that loss, Gojo still said they were the strongest and maybe in that moment with Yuji, he was employing a lesson he wished he could have been in a place to tell Geto to quell his festering guilt and grief. You can be strong and still fallible.

Hypothesis: Mimiko and Nanako (and Anyone Else...) Going After Managers is Not a Coincidence

As we saw with JJK 0, Geto's twins were rather merciless in going after the suits who make everything covert about jujutsu society possible. Based on what we knew at the time, the managers provide cover for sorcerers on missions (with curtains, getting them transportation to, providing cover stories) and plug them in with resources as needed. But we begin to realize that managers serve additional purposes. In season 1, we see that they are sometimes part of the investigative force when it comes to getting information around developing situations. With the Shibuya arc and the arc that follows, we see that they are also integral means of liaison and communication between sorcerers and to other points of contact within the community, including windows.

So. Windows are people who can see curses but aren't sorcerers which begs the question, what are managers? As we learn and can infer with Ijichi, who was a former sorcerer in training, managers are people who can see curses and may even be able to manipulate cursed energy. They aren't full blown sorcerers but they aren't completely helpless either. So why go after them?

As we see in the story centered around Ijichi's "boring day" at the office. Managers are sorcerers' only connection to the "human" world. They are what keeps them tethered to their mission in protecting others while similarly upholding the etiquette and traditions around how the rest of the world works. They maintain a very delicate balance of things alongside the supernatural. Without them, you'd have the unchecked ego of teenage Gojo basically just doing as he pleases without curtains or respect to the possible implications of a civilian seeing him work out in the open. To suit Geto's needs during JJK 0, why should sorcerers operate under some guise of hiding their strength for the sake of those who are weak? As to what happens during the Shibuya arc.. imagine the fear, the anxiety. Imagine the chaos! Imagine the curses it would yield.

Hypothesis: Yuji is Still the Main Character, We Just Haven't Seen the Curse that He'd Manifest When Broken Saying it louder for the people in the back

Certain corners of the fandom have largely cast Yuji aside. With the release of JJK 0 and appearance of Yuta, many wonder why Yuta isn't carrying the series. Afterall, his inherent overpowered-ness and ability to copy any technique for sure casts him as the next gen Gojo, right? In the literary sense, we've seen the rise and fall of his story. We haven't seen the last of him by any stretch of the imagination but he is, as we discovered, also jujutsu society royalty. A distant cousin of Gojo's, actually.

Of the main cast of first and second years, Yuji and Nobara are subsequently the only characters who do not have apparent ties to jujutsu society. Nobara, plucked from the countryside, is tested by Gojo upon her initial introduction to the series to make sure she's crazy enough to cut it. Yuji's origin is still a ways from truly coming to light but his inherent strength and the simple ability to house Sukuna and maintain his identity has, in many ways, been indicated to be an anomaly. Subsequently, as the viewer or reader, we know there's more to the story which has yet to come. I won't go into it here given my desire to not spoil the larger manga story but I think laced within the light novels is enough evidence to talk about Yuji and what his power and subsequent threat level is.

Yuji, for all intents and purposes, is an outsider. From what we can tell, he has experienced loss. Most apparently with his grandfather but we also assume he is a victim to the MC syndrome that leaves him orphaned and prime for a journey rife with struggle. He's fifteen with the pure heart of a child despite any previous hardships and just so happens to be armed with the mission to help people.

Yuji approaches the introduction to this new society with the wonderment of a kid finding out superheroes exist. But this naivete, this untempered light, actually has the capability of being something so fearsome when we learn how curses manifest through negative emotions.

In the anime, we see this as Sukuna scratches at Yuji's mental when they realize the possible origin of Tsumiki's curse may have begun killing it's victims when Yuji ate the finger. Mahito employs a similar means of manifesting ill will in Junpei that ultimately also becomes a burdensome guilt that Yuji bears. Countless times in the Shibuya arc, Yuji is forced to witness catastrophic losses of his mentors and friends while he can only stand idly by. The survivor's guilt is compounded by the shame of his own inability to help which only gets worse.

Since Yuji is relatively noble and sincere in nature, he considers these losses personal failures. He takes ownership of any sins against others that Sukuna commits when he is not in control over his body and, subsequently, his spirit takes a beating time and time again. He sought to do good in the world but his ledger becomes increasingly bloody through no means of his own and it weighs on our sunshine character.

It's easy to lend a hand to a child who has fallen, but it's a teacher's job to show a child how to stand up unassisted. It isn't always easy. - Gojo Satoru

The first light novel closes the gap between how Yuji went from training in a basement away from anyone who'd want him dead a second time to being under Nanami's care. While wrapping up Nanami's case, Gojo is uncharacteristically somber in requesting Nanami's assistance. He explains that Yuji requires Nanami's influence as someone who knows human suffering. The losses shared between them are unspoken and are not acknowledged within this exchange but, from what we know, hang as a burden between them. Still, both Nanami and Gojo have continued on as sorcerers somehow, from the grief of their youth into their late twenties. But Gojo gives voice to the concern that, because of Yuji's bravery and altruism, that the reality of what's expected of a sorcerer will one day break his heart if someone with emotional intelligence isn't able to help temper it. They seem to both understand the precariousness of youth and have both been shown to insist in protecting it where possible. This exchange and their mutual understanding is how we have Yuji under the care of Nanamin. It's also where we get the heart rending reminder that "Being a child is by no means a crime," and "You've escaped death many times. But that doesn't mean you've become an adult."

In the last story of the book, as Yuji is reunited with the other first years, he is contemplating a situation he encountered that still lacked resolution. He'd exorcised the exact same demon several times but to no avail. He hopes to enlist Gojo's help but Gojo encourages him to think about the problem more because not everything can be solved by fighting and exorcising when the source of curses is from human emotion. As Yuji races off to resolve the issue that's been weighing on him, Gojo reflects on his responsibility to preparing Yuji for the ups and downs that are sure to befall him.

Itadori's sincerity was a more significant attribute than his being Sukuna's vessel. As a result, trauma had the potential to become a curse more fearsome than anything else, a nasty curse preventable only by confronting one's own heart. Instead of cradling that heart, Gojo could teach it to be prepared. That's what it meant to raise students.

While the story resolves without consequence, we see that Yuji's reflection on the situation is as endearing as one would imagine though still a bit warped. He is galvanized to be stronger, dedicated to providing the help the people need whatever it may be, and to not give those he cares about reason to worry which seems in line with what Gojo was hoping for. But being offset by his consideration for how others feel like Nobara and Fushiguro when he died, it almost feels like he's creating an even larger burden of expectations for himself. This gives rise to Gojo's very real concerns about how far someone can fall into despair, especially someone who is such a beacon of positivity.

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