#his heart was removed to make him invincible | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kinkandkreep · 11 months

Text

𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒚: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

♡︎ 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓!𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

♡︎ 𝑪𝑾: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆, 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

♡︎ "__" 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆

♡︎ 𝑻𝒂𝒈 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕: @pinkrose1422 @freeingrebels @lollipoppersposts

♡︎ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 3 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 4 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆

He never forgets.

You sighed, tired and frustrated with this cliche ass situation you found yourself in.

Like every Lifetime movie gone wrong, here you sat in the kitchen of your home, previously lit candles now extinguished, lovingly cooked meal gone cold on the table before you.

It was you and Miguel’s third anniversary. And, unfortunately, it seemed he had forgotten.

He’s not here.

Initially, when you realized just how late it was getting, you tried to be sensible about what could possibly have happened. A part of you even started to panic, given that you hadn’t heard from him and when you’d spoken to him last, he’d been preparing to go do his usual patrols and surveillance of the city.

You worried that perhaps he’d gotten hurt, or worse.

But then you remembered who you were talking about and that worry quickly diminished.

Miguel wasn’t invincible but he was damn close, and the usual thugs he encountered were no match for him and his determination backed super strength.

Sighing a breath of relief, you then contemplated the remaining possibilities.

‘Maybe it’s a work thing, he’s spent plenty of late nights there or in the lab before.’

Your mind seemed most comfortable with this speculation, and so you released the issue, instead focusing on maintaining a positive attitude for when Miguel eventually arrived.

Except that nine became ten, ten became eleven, eleven became midnight and you realized with a heavy heart that your husband had indeed forgotten your anniversary.

Glancing at the clock, and seeing that it read 12:22, you stood from the dining room table, beginning the process of cleaning up and packing away the leftover food and needlessly dirtied dishes.

You would wash them later on in the day.

Once that was finished, you began making your way to your bedroom, removing your jewelry and heels along the way. Entering the room, you put everything back in its proper place, slipping out of your dress and putting on a more comfortable pajama set.

You momentarily considered putting on one of Miguel’s shirts for comfort, but rather quickly abandoned the idea.

You were preparing to slip under the covers when you heard the telltale beeping from the front door. It opened a little more noisily than was probably appropriate given the time of night it was, but it closed much more softly.

You didn’t immediately hear any footsteps sound, which struck you as a little odd, so against your better judgement, you called out a soft, “Gigi?”

Almost immediately after, you could hear rustling and the beginning of steps up the stairs. After a few seconds, your bedroom door began to creep open, and a dull red eye peeked through the gap.

For whatever reason, Miguel stayed that way for some moments, and it was beginning to creep you out. Thankfully, he eventually eased the door open the rest of the way, and slipped into the room.

You could see he held a large bouquet of many different kinds of flowers. From what you could make out, there were blue hyacinths, Lily of the Valley, pink roses and white orchids.

All different flowers meant to convey the same message.

“I’m sorry.”

Miguel’s voice was low, and a tad raspier than it normally was. You couldn’t tell if it was because he was tired or what, but alarm bells sounded in your brain nevertheless.

Which was…strange.

Miguel wouldn’t make eye contact with you, instead staring down at the flowers he appeared to be subconsciously clutching tightly against his chest.

“I know, Miguel. So am I.”

His head shot up at that, and he leveled you with a quizzical stare.

“What?”

You lifted a hand, gesturing for the flowers and to your en suite.

“You’re sorry you forgot and so am I. Now please, it’s late, I’m very tired and I would appreciate it if you would just get cleaned up so we could go to bed.”

He continued to stare at you confusedly, even as he inched forward to offer you the flowers. Standing still momentarily, he placed a tentative kiss on your forehead, missing the way you rolled your eyes.

Pulling away, he turns and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. You hear some rustling, and a few moments later, you hear the water begin to run.

Sighing, you take a seat on the bed, throat tightening as you feel tears threaten to spill. Though it’s only been a short time, and though you’ll never cease to feel silly for it, you’ve come to a conclusion.

‘Miguel’s having an affair.’

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

It takes around 30 minutes, but by the time Miguel’s finished, you’ve already drifted off into an uneasy, dreamless slumber.

Miguel emerges from the bathroom clad in only a towel that hangs loosely around his waist. Upon noticing that you’re apparently asleep, he tries to be more quiet as he maneuvers around your bedroom, opening and closing drawers much more softly than he normally would.

As he moves, his mind reels.

‘She seemed pissed. And worse than that, she seemed fed up. Could-...does she know?’

Almost immediately, Miguel shakes the thought from his mind.

‘No, she doesn’t. She can’t.’

Miguel refuses to think about the possibility anymore, and refuses to acknowledge the thoughts as they race through his mind all the way up until he falls asleep.

And that includes pointedly ignoring the dried tear streaks decorating your cheeks.

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

When you awake, you’re surprised to find Miguel still in bed with you.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s almost 10:30, much later than either of you would normally ever stay in bed, but especially your husband, who’s been an early riser for as long as you’ve known him.

You look over to him, and watch the slow, steady rise and fall of his bare chest as he continues sleeping.

Even as exhausted as you are, you can’t deny that your husband is gorgeous. From his chiseled cheeks and sharp jaw, to the tussle of chestnut hair sitting atop his head and his plump, perpetually pouting lips, you couldn’t help but stare in awe at the beauty of the man before you.

You wonder what’s got him so tired.

‘Probably entertaining that bitch.’

The bitter thought sears a jagged line through your consciousness, causing your face to unwittingly curl up into an angry snarl.

You have half a mind to suffocate the sleeping bastard with your pillow, but the thought is interrupted as he begins stirring awake.

Miguel is mumbling something unintelligible as he smacks his lips, grimacing as he begins to stretch and yawn. The popping sound his back makes is sharp, and he sighs, relaxing back into the bed.

Finally, he opens his eyes, red orbs searching around the room until they land on you.

A pleasant smile lifts the corners of his mouth upward, and he opens his mouth to greet you.

“Buenos dias, mi corazón. Did you sleep well?”

You’re unable to stop the scoffing noise that makes its way out of your throat. He has quite the gall, lilting such pleasantries after he forgot about your anniversary and tried to apologize with a shitty bouquet of flowers. Now he wants to pretend that everything is just alright?

You’re becoming so angry you’ve started to shake, and upon noticing this and your expression, which has morphed into a searing glare, Miguel frowns, sitting up quickly and moving to put a hand on your thigh, which you quickly swat away.

“Cariño? What’s the matter?”

You continue to glare at your husband for a few seconds more, before silently standing from the bed and quickly making your way downstairs.

“__!” Miguel calls after you, but you refuse to answer.

You can soon hear him shuffling out of the bed and making his way down the stairs after you, but you don’t care. Sure, you’ve got your speculations about what could possibly have caused your husband to forget your anniversary, but you want more solid proof before you lash out.

Taking a couple deep breaths, you brace yourself on the kitchen counter, turning just in time to see Miguel reach the bottom step.

He watches you with a worried expression, lips pouted and soft eyes wide.

“__? Are you ok? You were shaking a minute ago.”

He approaches you tentatively, almost as if he can sense the inner turmoil within you and knows that it’s because of him.

You simply watch him as he comes closer, trying to keep your breathing and your mouth in check.

“Baby?”

Taking one last deep breath, you push yourself up from the counter, moving over to the refrigerator and opening its door, absently rummaging through its contents to find something to eat.

Behind you, you can hear Miguel sigh, and after a moment you feel his presence beside you.

“__, if something’s wrong, you know you can tell me right? I’m right here for you.”

On reflex, you slam the refrigerator door shut, a pitcher of orange juice clutched tightly in your hand. You speedily sit it on the countertop, trying again to get your breathing in check.

“__, this isn’t funny. The silent treat-...”

“Where were you last night, Miguel?”

You spin quickly, now facing your husband, who appears stunned. His eyes are wide, but this time you can find a trace of desperation and something that looks suspiciously like fear lurking within their bloodred depths.

“W-...I-I was at the lab.”

“And where else?”

You’re slightly surprised by how firm your voice sounds. You’re also able to maintain steady eye contact with your husband, who looks increasingly uncomfortable by the second.

“Doing patrols. Got into a scuffle with a couple criminals. Look __, if…if this is about me missing our anniversary I’m really-”

“You’re sorry, I know Miguel.” Your smile is sardonic, and you once again turn your back to your husband, beginning to pour yourself a glass of juice and taking a small sip.

“You could have at least called.” You speak, and you can see Miguel perk up out of your periphery, but then deflate again at your words.

“You’re right. I-...I’m sorry.”

It’s silent between you for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the birds chirping and your quiet sips can be heard.

Your glass is finished by the time either of you speaks again, and you work to pour yourself another.

“Tell me Gigi.” The man really brightens at the sound of his special nickname. It’s short lived however, because of the words that follow.

“If you had to choose between saving me, and saving everyone else, which would you choose?” You manage to keep your expression flat, and the air around you both seemingly stills as Miguel’s breath audibly hitches.

“I-...” His mouth opens then closes, and he seems to flounder for a satisfactory answer.

“I would…would save you both, of course.” You’ve never really known your husband to stutter so much before.

“That isn’t one of the options I gave you. I said you had to choose between us. So, choose.”

The silence returns, much heavier this time. It lingers for many seconds, and by the tenth you know he’s already chosen his answer.

“You know I can’t do that __.”

The glass you're holding cracks as it hits the marble of your countertop.

“Why the fuck not Miguel?! Why can’t you choose me over everything else for fucking once?!” You’ve spun around to face him once more, one hand perched on your hip. Your eyes have widened with anger, brows deeply furrowed and breath heavy.

Miguel sighs, shaking his head.

“We’ve had this conversation before, __. I have a responsibility. You said you understood!” You can sense Miguel becoming angry himself, which only serves to make you more livid.

“I am your wife, Miguel. The supposed “love of your life,” remember. There ought not be this turmoil about prioritising me. You couldn’t even be there for our anniversary. I don’t ask for much from you, ever. Never have. I just ask that when the time comes, you would show up, like you promised.”

Now you’ve gotten up in his face, expression still severe. He watches you with pinched brows, jaw set tight.

“I was there, Miguel. All those nights, patching you up and scolding you for being a reckless idiot. I was there, comforting you when you failed to save someone, reassuring you when you were losing hope. I’m not saying you ought to choose me out of obligation, but out of love. The same love that I’ve given you unconditionally, the same love that I want returned.”

You stare each other down for nearly a minute, you searching Miguel’s eyes for any sense of understanding.

You find little.

“You’re right, __. You were right there, all those times I made mistakes and had to rectify them. You were my backbone, my support when I had none. But you were also there when I explained how serious this responsibility is to me, and not just to me, but for everyone. You know how selfish I used to be, and I refuse to let my selfishness cost people their lives.”

You scoff out a laugh at his words, unbelieving in the moment that he’s actually being serious.

“So let me get this straight Miguel. You want me to understand that if it came down to it, you would sacrifice me for innumerable other random people, all because it’s your “responsibility”?” You use air quotes, your expression slightly mocking as you stare up at the larger man.

He frowns, breathing once heavily through his nose.

“I want you to be less selfish, __. I thought you understood that when the time came, I would do what needed to be done.”

“Of course I don’t fucking understand that! You said you loved me! I’m supposed to believe you would give up someone you love for a bunch of people you don’t?!” You’re exasperated now, and can feel the tears beginning to build up in your eyes.

Why can’t Miguel seem to look past his “duty” and see what’s right in front of him? Is he…is he trying to push you away?

‘He’s pushing you away so he can feel less bad about pursuing that tramp.’

The thought leaves a shiver down your spine, and you can feel red hot anger bloom as heat all over your body.

“That’s precisely what it means to be a hero, __!” The color in Miguel’s eyes has begun to swirl with his building anger.

“No, Miguel. Sacrificing the people you love for people who wouldn’t even know to appreciate the gesture isn’t heroism.” You look him in the eyes, leaning up close until your noses nearly brush. “It’s foolishness. And it seems you’re the biggest fool of them all.”

Miguel’s eyes widen, the crimson of them shooting scarlet. His breathing immediately picks up, and his hands begin rhythmically clenching by his sides.

“Y-...you-...”

Without finishing his sentence, Miguel turns on his heel and storms up the stairs to the second floor, slamming your bedroom door.

You wait a few moments, before collapsing into a dining chair, hands in your face as you quietly sob.

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

You’ve since stopped crying and began making lunch when you hear Miguel stomping down to the first floor. You turn to watch him, who has since become fully clothed, as he heads to the entryway, slipping on his jacket.

“Where are you going,” you call out, averting your eyes for just a moment from the sizzling pan in front of you.

“To the lab,” your husband replies without looking up from slipping on his shoes.

“Why? It’s,” you glance up at the clock, “12 o’clock and you haven’t eaten.”

“It’s fine, I’ll find something myself.” Miguel’s words are curt, his tone clipped.

You contemplate pressing the matter, but decide against it, figuring if Miguel wants to run away like a petty child, then that’s exactly what you’ll let him do.

You hear the door slam, and it makes you only slightly flinch.

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

You don’t see Miguel for the rest of the day.

You’ve cooked, ate, straightened up, showered and spent the majority of the day passing time scrolling through social media and catching up on shows and movies you’ve wanted to see.

It’s 9:30, and you’re in the middle of a yawn when the first message comes.

It’s from an unknown sender, and it’s a zip file.

You’re very hesitant to open it at first, becoming immediately afraid that someone is on some weird shit.

But then, an actual text message follows.

And your hand shakes as you read it.

‘You could never understand, __, not like I do.’

Heart pounding, you’ve now been given the motivation you need to open the compressed file.

You very quickly wish you hadn’t.

Inside are dozens of photos, all of Miguel and another woman in…compromising positions, to say the absolute least.

They’re in different states of undress in each photo, the last few even featuring them in what appears to be post coital bliss.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the screen, your absolute worst fears having been realized.

Finally, you reach the end of the content in the file, and to your further horror, it’s a short 10 second clip.

Against your better judgement, you click it.

Immediately, your ears are assaulted with the high pitched moans of the woman in the photos, Miguel’s much deeper swears and grunts audible in the background. It seems the camera’s been positioned at an odd angle, almost as if it’s meant to be hidden.

From wherever it is, you can see both the woman and Miguel in all their naked glory, bodies moving rhythmically against each other.

You only realize you’re crying because your view of the screen becomes blurry.

Your mouth is agape, and you're finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Before you can throw the phone away, one last message comes in.

It’s a screenshot of messages appearing to have been sent between Miguel and the woman.

You can’t read much of it, your stomach won’t allow you, but from what little you are able to read, Miguel appears to be complaining about you to the other woman, who agrees and encourages everything he says.

You’ve had enough, and you click your phone off, leaning back on the couch to process all you’ve just witnessed.

‘Miguel is cheating on me. Miguel slept with another woman. Miguel thinks I’m a nuisance. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…’

You pause, clicking off the television and standing slowly, grabbing your phone and making your way upstairs to the bathroom.

Without a single utterance of sound, you shower and run through your oral hygiene routine, picking out a fresh set of pajamas and climbing into bed.

You find yourself unable to sleep, so afraid you are that your dreams will be filled with visions of your husband’s infidelity.

He doesn’t come home that night.

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Buy me a Kofi?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #cheater miguel o'hara #cheater miguel o'hara x reader #tw: cheating #cw cheating

2K notes · View notes

glystenangel · 2 years

Text

Lovesick Idiots

Soft!Gojo x Shy!GN Reader (Canonverse)

tags/warnings: 18+ blog, but this story’s pure fluff, gojo has the flu, you’re a secretary at jjk tech, you’re both crushing on each other, slight angst, kissin (ish), cuddling, lots of comfort and fluff<333333

summary: you take care of gojo when he’s sick and he can’t seem to hold back anymore

loosely based on one of my hc posts!

~4k

thanks for reading and enjoy <3

_________________

When Shoko tells you Gojo has been out with the flu, you almost don’t believe her.

“Are you serious? I just thought he was on a mission for the last few days!”

She sighs, swiveling her chair away from where you two are sharing an improvised lunch of leftover juice boxes from the cafeteria and a split open bag of chips on her desk. Sun rays catch between the tree branches outside of the window, and the dilapidating shadows dance over Shoko as she spins her chair back and forth between the glass panes and you.

“I’m literally- well, basically a doctor. I just dropped off meds for him the other day. Go check for yourself, I’m sure he’d love a visit from you too.” She suggests, giving you a sidelong glance as she takes a cigarette and her lighter out of her coat pocket.

“What do you mean by that?” You scowl at her, fully aware of her insinuation. You run the point of your shoe over the outlines of the floor tiles, willing the butterflies in your stomach to tame their excited flutters at Shoko’s claim.

Ever since you joined Jujutsu Tech as a secretary, it seemed as though Gojo thought of you as his personal assistant. Frankly, at first he annoyed the hell out of you, with his pompous attitude and copious amounts of paperwork for all of his missions. However, he would occasionally bring you a souvenir from his travels or leave a small snack on your desk as thanks, oftentimes a sticky note nabbed from your desk drawer with a silly drawing left on top. The kind gestures would chip away at your heart with every instance, and your tolerance for him eventually grew as well. He seemed to catch on to this, and he would often spend class breaks trying to get a smile out of you. He would claim he had never seen it despite making one appear on your face whenever you conversed, and you would always roll your eyes and tell him to get back to teaching. You had to admit you had developed a borderline pathetic crush on the white haired man, with his bright cerulean eyes and obvious charm. It was difficult to deny him when he leaned over your desk, asking about your day and coyly flirting with you to get a lollipop from the bowl you kept in your drawer for the students. Even with his blindfold or sunglasses on, you sometimes felt his gaze sweeping over your face for far too long. Although, it was probably just your imagination.

“You know what I mean.” Shoko coolly returns your stare as she slides the window open, “Everyone knows that idiot likes you, and that you like him. For some reason.”

Your cheeks immediately heat, “He doesn’t like me. And you have to admit he is kinder than he lets on, and very handsome.”

You sometimes saw him come in fresh from a mission, a bored and almost numb look on his face. Although he would treat you the same as usual, you could tell something was breaking beneath his constant displays of power and invincibility. You had called him out on it once, and to your surprise he had placed his hand on your head with a dreary fog in his eyes. The weight of it seemed greater than you had anticipated, as if every bone in his body was dense with a grief that threatened to seep out at any moment.

“Have you ever had a best friend?”

When you silently nodded, he had sighed and removed his hand from your head, resting his elbows along the edge of the table and looking at the ground. The dark fabric of his sorcerer’s uniform broke out in crisp folds where he bent his frame against the counter, and his voice was unusually small when he spoke.

“Me too, once.”

You had carefully patted the broad angle of his shoulder at the news, “I don’t know what happened to your friend, but you seem like the type to bottle things up, whether out of duty or the need to always put on a brave face. You’re only human though, so go easy on yourself.”

“I’m not a human, I’m a sorcerer. A weapon against curses. The strongest.” He had said, a bitter grimace spreading across his lips.

The uncharacteristic acidity in his words had you taken aback, but you kept your calm gaze on his jaded one.

“To me, you’re the strongest because you still have your humanity. A heart, and a good one at that. Being strong at all times is an impossibility, even with your gifts. Though I know you try to be anyway, despite acknowledging that fact.”

You paused for a moment, the air stilling between you both, “I don’t mean to offend you-”

“No, finish what you have to say. I’m listening.” Gojo shifted his posture, keenly tilting his head towards you.

His devoted attention and proximity, as slight as they were, ignited something in your chest.

You permitted yourself to continue speaking, carefully regarding the man before you, “What I mean to say is that your ability to be strong ultimately relies on the inevitability of your weakness. You’re a teacher for that reason, right? To help the students establish strength from their current weaknesses, and ultimately better the sorcerer world? Don’t neglect your humanity, Gojo, I think it really suits you.”

He didn’t say anything for a long stretch of time, squeezing a large hand around his cheeks and puckering his lips out in ponderance. Then, he had let out an entertained laugh.

“You’re so cute.” The tall man ruffled your hair, and you had watched in confusion as he walked away to meet with the elders. His conscience appeared to be lighter, and your eyes had worriedly trailed after him until he disappeared into the other room, hoping he could sense that you would send him any extra strength you possessed if he ever needed it.

After that, he always seemed to seek you out when he was in a similar state. Even when you weren’t having a great day either, you both managed to be smiling after talking to each other for a handful of moments.

Shoko scoffs, “I’ve known Satoru for years, he’s as unhinged as they come. I’m happy if you’re both happy though.”

“What is there to be happy about? Nothing’s going to happen.” You dismiss her words with a wave of your hand.

Sure you considered each other as friends now, but you always assumed he treated you the same as he would anyone else. Gojo was meant for greatness, for impacting the sorcerer world and its history, he couldn’t possibly place you in any sort of mutual importance. As much as you told yourself that, you couldn’t resist craving his presence and hoping against hope.

“Oh really? So you’re not going to his apartment after school lets out?” She quirks up a brow, blowing out a stream of gray smoke before pocketting her lighter.

You give her a scathing stare, popping a potato chip into your mouth and giving it a hard chew, “Absolutely not.”

_____________________

As soon as you park your car across from Gojo’s apartment, regret begins filling your stomach.

“I should really think things through before doing them.”

You barely finish the mournful thought when your phone rings, high pitched and incessant.

“Hello?” You don’t even look at the screen to check who it is, your gut twisting with recognition at the energy behind the static.

“Hey, did you come to visit me?” Gojo drawls on the other side of the line.

His voice instantly irritates you and makes your heartbeat fasten simultaneously. You can almost feel the bastard peering between his blinds at your rigid loitering on the curb. Damn him and his six eyes.

“Is that a problem?” You question, hoping he can sense your glare as you open the side door. It clicks open with ease, and you nearly misstep when Gojo heartily laughs.

“Not at all.” He coos, and you can practically hear the shiteating grin on his face.

“Good, I’m coming in.” You pick up a container of hot soup from where it was precariously riding in shotgun before shutting the door and making your way to the apartment entrance.

“The door’s already open.”

When you make it to the door, you see Gojo with his cellphone poised next to his ear and holding the door open for you. The sight of him in black sweatpants and a cream colored knit sweater shouldn’t make you flustered, but it does. The ends of his messy hair brush at the top of the doorframe, and even in his disheveled state he’s unnervingly attractive. His shoulder is leaned against the doorframe, his slender form emanating a confidence and power that you know he meticulously maintains in spite of his easy going demeanor. He has on his sunglasses too, though behind the tinted lenses you can still see the shimmering sparkle of his eyes and the long white eyelashes framing them as he scans your figure.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?” You arch a brow, deftly taking off your shoes as he runs a hand through his pale locks.

“Oh, yeah. That.” He blinks innocently, as if he actually forgot, “I am.”

“You’re hopeless.” You shake your head at his nonchalant demeanor.

A look far too smug for his circumstances curls across his defined features, “Good thing you’re here to take care of me.”

You send him a withering stare, and he raises his hands up in surrender.

“Really, I feel better with you here.” He claims, and your stomach does a flip at his flirtatiousness.

“Huh, guess I brought this soup for nothing.” You lift the container into his line of sight, and he immediately starts coughing.

“Actually, I’m very ill. You’re probably gonna have to feed me. Look.” He holds his large palms out with feigned shakiness as you straighten your shoes in the foyer, not believing him for a second.

“Come here.” You stand up and place a hand to his forehead, “Wait, you’re actually burning up. How long have you had a fever?”

He mimics you, placing his hand over your forehead, “Since I met you I think.”

You almost scold him, but then his glasses slide down his nosebridge and you notice the red tip of his nose and the bags under his eyes. Although his cheeks do seem a little more sunken in from being ill, the defined cut of his jaw and the pretty perch of his sharp nose over his dewy cupid’s bow is enough to create a deep sense of longing within you. You want to hold him, and some part of you instinctively realizes that he probably needs it more than you could ever truly know.

Gojo sniffles after a moment, and you drop your hand to pick his own off of your forehead, “Go to bed, now.”

“Aye, aye captain.” He salutes you before walking off, and you can’t help but softly chuckle at the sway of his tall figure as he stumbles into the hallway.

Padding into the kitchen, you begin searching for a bowl to reheat the soup in. You had been to his place a couple of times for get togethers with the rest of the Jujutsu Tech staff, but this was your first time visiting alone. He occasionally volunteered his place for such gatherings, and part of you wonders if it is because he was lonely after being raised surrounded by people and then ultimately becoming the last standing member of the Gojo clan. His apartment is quite large, and more of a penthouse than anything. The floor is all dark hardwood with tall ivory ceilings, and the windows are draped over with dark gray curtains. It’s clean, minimally yet tastefully decorated with luxurious furniture and amenities, and you expect nothing less from such an esteemed man like Gojo.

“Gotcha.” You grab a speckled ceramic bowl from the second cabinet you try, quickly dumping the soup in and microwaving it. Once you fish out a spoon from a drawer and equip yourself with napkins, you follow the direction Gojo went until you find yourself looking down at his prone form clutching a pillow to his chest in bed. There’s cooling cups of tea on his nightstand with the teabags murking up the bottoms, and the wastebasket that you guess normally goes by the desk next to his bedroom window has been pushed to the side of his bed. The plastic bag is stuffed with crumpled tissues and cough drop wrappers. The air is rather warm, with a humidifier sitting on his dresser drawers and blowing a river of steam directly at the bed.

“Gojo?” You grab his desk chair and slide it to the bedside, sitting and pressing your knees to the sheet lined edge of his mattress.

“Hm?” He flits his eyes up at hearing your voice, and then deliriously grins, “Oh good, you’re here.”

“You let me in.” You gently remind him, contemplating how he had managed to take care of himself in such a feverish state. Come to think of it, you hardly remember him telling you if he had anyone that looked out for him now that his family was gone.

“Oh, right.”

“Is it okay if you sit up for a bit? I brought soup, I think it’ll help.” You present the steaming broth to him again, and he languidly stretches before scooting up to rest his shoulder blades against his cushy pillows.

After he faithfully finishes the soup, you have him take another dose of the flu medication Shoko had told you she dropped off for him. Then, you take the remaining bowl and leftover tea cups to wash them. You even empty the trash, ensuring to wipe down any surface and washing your hands. Gojo watches you as he slumps in bed, eyes lazily following your movements as he lets out sporadic coughs or sniffles. Once you feel that his room has taken on an organized enough state for him to easily navigate as he regains his health, you sink back into your seat beside him.

“Alright, how are you feeling now?” You check his temperature again, and smile when his forehead is noticeably cooler.

“Great, thanks to you.” He crouches down to meet your eyes, the purr in his voice tickling your ears.

You flick his forehead, and he winces.

“You’re acting…different. Not that I mind, but are you sure you’re alright Gojo?”

“I always feel like this around you.”

“Like what? Sick?” The idea makes you scoff, since he was the one that made your gut wrench upon the mere sight of him.

“No, weak.” He answers absentmindedly, eyes falling to his palms, “But…I don’t mind it. It’s actually nice.”

The sentiment tugs your heart strings, but you try to think rationally. It was probably the medication, or the flu affecting his brain. You don’t want to make assumptions and entertaining any other idea would be unhealthy considering the way Gojo had eroded the wall around your heart months ago.

You mull over your words before mumbling, “I think you should go to bed Gojo.”

“I can’t, I’d rather talk to you. Frankly, I thought I was already dreaming.”

“Stop messing around, you need to rest.” You insist, frowning as you fold the blankets over his lap.

Gojo lightly shakes his head, his chest is rising and falling in rapid succession. You’re afraid he’ll agitate his flu with such sudden and uncalled for vigor. Even so, he presses his fists into his sides, a shallow scowl punctuating his mouth.

“It’s not a joke!”

Gojo’s protest astounds you, and then he says it again, more gently and as if in apology, “It’s not. I’m not joking.”

The resigned tone lurching along his throat forces your lips to part in surprise, and the entire room seems to hold its breath when he turns away from you. The lines of his back are tense, and you can see him struggling to breathe from the ragged movement of his shoulders. You had seen Gojo upset a handful of times, but never like this. Without thinking, you reach out a trembling hand, hoping he won’t break if you touch him with anything less than the utmost delicacy.

You momentarily forget that his shields may be up, and you only remember the possibility when the warmth of your hand somehow finds stable rest on the center of his back. It shocks you, and Gojo must feel your arm stiffen in epiphany when he turns, sliding your hand across his back and then catching it in his as he turns to give you a meaningful stare.

He rubs the pad of his thumb over your knuckles, briefly admiring the way your hands fit together before his eyes are drawn to yours again. Specks of periwinkle and the sky reflect in his irises, a glow so brittle and beautiful that it makes your heart ache.

“I’m in love with you, you know that?”

The honesty clutching his cadence stifles any speech you had left, and you can see the panic spike in the opalescent blue of Gojo’s eyes as more admissions hurriedly spill past his lips.

“I never really understood love at first sight or that supposed gut feeling one has where they feel that they’ll eventually fall for someone upon meeting them. At least, that was until I met you. I fall more in love with you every day. I can’t stop it. I tried.”

His last statement is agonized, like he betrayed himself and more importantly you, by not controlling his emotions.

“Talking to you is never boring, and I worry about you all the time when I’m away, even if I can still see you. Isn’t that pathetic?”

At his question, your words return to you and you pull his hand closer, adrenaline coursing through your body from being allowed to hold even just a part of the man you had never thought would spare you anything more than friendly conversations.

“I don’t think it is.” You encase his hand in both of yours, praying your genuity comes across and that he can feel the pulse in your palm quickening from every word he utters.

“That’s another thing. Like I said, with you…I don’t feel the need to be strong. I can be weak, and not feel bad about it. Hell, I can just be. I’m…really happy you came to visit me, I don’t permit very many people to see me like this. I can’t.”

“Gojo, you have the flu. It’s only natural.”

“I know, but I used to always hide when I was sick as a kid and the habit’s kind of stuck. I hated anyone knowing I was sick. Still do, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, you’re safe with me. You deserve protecting too.” You caress his cheek, and the skin there is so smooth. He silently absorbs the touch, eyes closed. Seeing his innate beauty up close is like staring into the light of the sun, and you lower your head in embarrassment, “That probably doesn’t mean much coming from someone like me, but-”

“No, it means a lot. And I believe you.” Tears brim at his eyes, and your heart breaks at the same time his voice does.

“Is that okay? Can I do that please?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Your hand cradles the back of his head, and he automatically brings his face to rest in the nape of your neck. His hand leaves the comforting envelope of your own, and you feel him settle his arms in the curves of your waist to bring you closer instead. It feels perfectly natural and right, like a star finding their place in the comforting darkness of the night sky. You know Gojo will have to continue shining, but now he can always find reprieve in your arms.

You rub soothing circles over his back, feeling him shudder at your attentive motions and embrace you more tightly. His fingertips dent the soft flesh beneath your clothes, and your heart puddles in the bottom of your chest at his unexpected clinginess.

“I’m here for you, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.”

He draws back with his eyes squeezed shut, furrowing his brows until you start smoothing the skin between his eyebrows and across his cheeks. You keep one hand weaving through the hair on the back of his neck and hold his face in the other, easing Gojo so he can fully relax into your touch.

“Hey, hey.” You soften your voice, stroking his hair with featherlight touches to accommodate his increasing vulnerability, “It’s okay, Gojo.”

Slowly, he opens his eyes and turns to kiss the inside of your palm.

“Only because it’s you.”

Any semblance of hesitation you had around your heart completely crumbles.

“You know I’m in love with you too, right?” You finally confess, the simple affirmation leaving you sincerely.

The brightest and most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from the sorcerer lights up his face, and he wraps you in a hug so blissfully that you feel your cheeks warm as they squish against his broad chest.

“God, being sick is the worst. I’d do anything Heaven asks of me to kiss you right now.”

“Better not, I don’t want to miss work.” You peer up at him with a determined look, but you melt at the sight of a pout jutting from his lips, “We can cuddle though if you’d like.”

He nods with a sniffle and you laugh as he pulls you down into the bed with him. You spend a good portion of time holding him and massaging his head to soothe his congestion and overall grogginess, and he gratefully sinks into your caring administrations. When he’s not snuggled into the crook of your neck, he reels back every so often to trace over every facet of your features. You can feel his eyes skirting along the skin, especially the curve of your lips.

“Don’t even think about it.” You warn.

“I won’t, I promise. I just really want to...” He whines, and it’s so endearing that you accept that Gojo will be ruining so much of your future resolve with just one look or plead.

You sit up, covering his mouth with your hand and then planting a chaste kiss where you estimate his lips to be laying underneath your palm.

“There? Happy?” A pointed look leaves you, and you raise a brow in askance.

His eyes briefly remain widened in shock, and then they soften significantly. Moonlight rippling over an azure sea. To your satisfaction, he nods.

You give him a shy glance and move to lower your hand before yelping with surprise as Gojo grabs your waist and flips you onto your back. The lack of effort he expends to do so has you gasping, and you all but fall apart when you see how Gojo is staring down at you. His eyes are trained on your lips, and he has both hands pinned at the sides of your head. You’ve never seen him so focused, and you have to remind yourself not to give in nearly a thousand times before you see him dipping his head downwards.

He covers your lips, and then your forehead, each cheek, and your nose as he kisses the makeshift barrier of his fingers against your skin.

The brief yet longing pecks have you so stunned and breathless that you can hardly react outside of instinct, closing your eyes and shivering whenever he comes closer.

Then, he starts slowing down, and you feel blood rush up your body. His white lashes fan down as he repeatedly presses kiss after kiss onto his hand while your lips are mere centimeters below.

“We have to stop.” You catch his wrist in a trembling grip, though your protest is so unconvincingly soft it makes you embarrassed.

A gentle exhale parts his lips, and you can see his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat as his gaze remains transfixed on the enticing shape of your mouth.

“Okay, okay.” He quietly acquiesces, tucking his fingers up and behind your ear.

“Come here.” You laugh goodnaturedly at his eagerness and pat your chest, where he reluctantly settles on top of you again.

He lets out a defeated sigh, but obediently nuzzles into your warmth. After a moment, quiet fills the room, and you can feel yourself starting to drift off as you loosely scratch your hands across the muscular plane of Gojo's back.

Sleep tugs at the edges of your consciousness, and you guess that Gojo is also falling asleep when you vaguely hear the lightest whisper against your neck.

“I hope you let me love you forever.”

Before the world darkens completely, you manage to murmur a reply.

“As long as you let me love you back.”

_________________

The next morning, you blearily open your eyes and then jolt awake at not recognizing where you are.

“Morning!”

You whip your head around, and your visage falls upon Gojo beaming at you with a coffee in hand and his arm bracing him against the doorframe.

“Good morning.” You do your best to mirror his expression, but you must not have come close based on how Gojo wheezes at your attempt.

“Someone’s still a little sleepy.” He strides over to you, stroking a hand down your hair and then bending to kiss the top of your head.

“Hey! No kissing! You’re still sick.” You swat him away, and he happily chuckles.

“Actually, I’m all better.” He holds out his hands, and even strikes a pose before taking a sip of his precariously full coffee.

“What? How?” You rub your eyes and yawn.

“It usually doesn’t take me long to recover. Shoko’s medication helped too, and your nursing, of course.”

“Huh. Alright, great. We should probably get going to work-”

As soon as you try to finish your sentence, coughs erupt from your throat and you can hardly get a word out.

When the fit is over, you and Gojo simultaneously meet each other’s eyes with surprise.

The corners of his mouth lift into a smirk, and he places a hand on your forehead as he regards you with a smug hum.

“Looks like it’s your turn to be taken care of.”

_________________

End Notes:

just felt like writing something nice for Gojo :) <3

#myfics #gojo fic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo oneshot #gojo sensei #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk oneshot #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #gojo imagine #gojo fanfic

2K notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS

PILL 3 - GREAT GENESIS / GENESIS DEI

YANDERE! CSM! VARIOUS x STOIC! READER

“Check it out. These are my kids.”

“Oh yeah? Check out my kids.”

“That’s just Denji and Power . . .”

“Exactly.”

CAUTIONS: Spoilers for the Manga. Yandere Themes. Chainsawman Themes. Religious Themes. God uses he/him pronouns.

INGREDIENTS: You reminisce about the past and think about what lies ahead in your future. Denji gets his ass almost eaten by Batman- I mean a Bat Devil. Power.

FORMULATION: horridly unedited

[previous dose] [pillbox] [next dose]

You’ve hated humanity since the moment of your conception.

One might argue it was baked into your existence as a devil, simply etched into your heart the moment you popped out of hell, but you couldn’t agree with that notion at all.

It was just how persistent they were with survival and self-preservation that whatever your peers do to oppress them, torture their very souls, devour their physical being, they still manage to cling unto hope.

They were like cockroaches, ones with wings and the unending urge to fly towards your face like if they ever stopped they’d die.

Humans don’t hate cockroaches when they’re born, just like how you don’t hate humans when you were created. You merely saw them as pests you’d rather have gone. At least, that’s what you thought.

It was when you met Makima that you realized it wasn’t hatred you were feeling. It was envy.

You were envious of how they managed to find the grit to move forward. Of how they’re able to shake off tragedies and get stronger.

Unlike you, who had stayed stagnant for as long as you’ve remembered. Too scared to ever go out of line and potentially lose everything you already had.

As the God Devil, you were both one of the strongest and the weakest devils there existed.

Many feared your name, sure. But people found God equally, if not moreso, a comfort through trying times. God was their salvation, no matter how invisible, or inactive he was in their battles. Humanity continued to pray in his name, your name.

But slowly, but surely, faith began to disappear. And your powers began to grow.

You never believed in Makima’s goals. Nor do you believed in her feelings towards you to be genuine. You fully know that she’s using you for her desire; a family and most importantly the eradication of everything bad in this world. Her jealousy was probably based on the fact that she saw you more as a possession, a precious tool than a real partner.

You see, much like the Chainsaw Devil’s ability to erase concepts from this world, you also had a few unique abilities of your own. The ability to remember everything in the course of humanity’s life on Earth. Even the parts the “Hero of Hell” removed and bring it back to existence. Your head was akin to an infinite book, you nicknamed ‘The Bible’.

Where the Chainsaw Devil was the definition of chaos and destruction, you represented peace and life.

And you loathed that. Despised how different you were from other devils. Detested the thought that you were anything but an avatar of fear.

In any case, amalgams were one of the examples of things you’ve partly brought back to the world. It’s original name seemingly inaccessible even to your hands. Though it was mostly done as an excuse for you to use your powers whenever, you had a feeling Makima thought of Denji and Pochita when asking you to revive those mongrels. Or may be not. Makima was confusing and mysterious that way.

You didn’t pry much into her plans. Only ever preparing yourself for the shitstorms her actions cause and brave through it.

But now curiosity ate at you like leech. Why was she allowing Denji so close to you like that? Was it truly because she wants to play him like a fiddle?

Why did the thought of her hurting him hurt you so badly?

“You’re going to break it.”

Angel poked your nose. His touch, with how rare he gave out, almost broke your seemingly invincible composure.

“The weapon. Don’t. It’s such a hassle to make one.”

“My apologies.” You said, as you crushed the sword Angel made within your hands. Expression devoid from your features.

The latter sighed, you were as insufferable as ever.

“Could you stop being so polite and rigid? It’s gross.”

“You know I can’t use casual language in front of them. To the committee, you’re a demon and I’m . . . ” You were about to say ‘one of them’ but you couldn’t shake the sense of otherness you’d feel whenever you were with your colleagues. It wasn’t as if they viewed you as an outcast per se, just that they seemed so nervous all the time. Which led to you avoiding contact especially during battle. You weren’t oblivious to how humans viewed and often worshipped you, you just didn’t know the extent your powers affected them. Especially those who have known you for quite a while.

And so Makima helped by pairing you with beings who are usually unaffected by your aura. At least, on the surface.

“Still. I’d prefer if you went back to how you were before.”

You knew Angel before you even met Makima, as what the two of you represented were both closely related. Despite that, your relationship remained symbiotic at most. Angel’s weapons worked best when wielded by you, and you were capable of taking away his memories and ‘sins’ thus making the number of voices in his head less burdensome. None of you made an effort to go beyond that.

Your Bible ability allowed you to remember everything even beyond your current incarnation.

But Angel knew that while you will remember him if you ever died, the emotions attached to said memories will surely disappear.

He’ll remain that, just a memory. He was content with that. In fact, that’s why Makima trusted him enough with you.

“Charismatic? Proud? A perfect example of what it is to be a devil?”

“An asshat.” Angel munched on the human blood sausage you prepared him. Well, the sausage Makima forced you to make as to fulfill your ‘wifely’ duties, that you gave to Angel since you disliked the taste of it. “But a predictable one.” His androgynous voice came out muffled as he basically scarfed down the piece of meat

“It’s fine to admit that you’re a masochist, Angel.”

“If I’m a masochist—“ He squeezed on the barbecue stick holding the sausage, about to give you the rebuttal of the century (or so he thinks) until your husband unfortunately arrived to the scene.

Oh right! Did I mention you and Angel were atop a massive pile of human and devil corpses? I didn’t? Huh, my bad. Kinda hard remembering to say that stuff when the stench is awfully, well, awful.

“I’m sorry to cut your reunion short, but your new team requires your supervision.” Makima’s signature calm and collected voice slices viciously between your conversation. You can sense the underlying malice from a mile away at this point.

“You want me to stalk your hero from the shadows again.”

Makima didn’t reply, but her usual eerie smile said a thousand words. She didn’t like you getting too close to humans. Sure, it was fine for them to cling unto hope that you’ll ever notice them, it was fun seeing the light disappearing from their eyes as they find out such a thing will never happen. But you indulging your supposed dogs with more than a glance killed her.

In other words, if she was like that with humans, she was the worst — absolutely abhorred — you making conversation with another one of your kind.

To her, humans will never be threats. Devils on the other hand . . .

Well, she supposes even they don’t stand a chance. But she preferred knowing that even without her powers, you were all hers.

She trusted Angel, sure, but she’ll never like seeing her wife with someone else.

“Well then, underling. I will see you soon.”

“I hope not.” Angel blew a strand of hair off his face. He’s had enough of your presence already. Too much and he’ll build up an appetite for it.

“So . . . Sea Cucumber Devil, huh?” You started. Your silent appearance startled Denji and caused him to almost fall off the rooftop, if it weren’t for you catching him by the wrist in time.

Yeah, you weren’t really good at starting conversations.

“[Y-[Y-[Y/N]—! I mean —“ Denji stared at the connected skin. It had only just been a day, and he was already back to acting like hormonal teen who’d never been touched around you.

“C’mere.” You pulled him towards your form. His face landed on your chest, turning awfully red. After making sure he wasn’t falling anymore, you propped his legs over your left arm and carried him bridal style.

You landed on the ground following a single jump. Your heels (courtesy of Makima’s thinly veiled threats) clicking loudly.

You looked at Denji and smiled.

Then dropped him on the massive purple disarray.

“G-god . . ?” The girl, with peach-blonde hair and horns known as ‘Power’ from the info debriefed to you, halted her maniacal laughter. Her mouth opened up in shock and a little bit of horror? Could she sense you were . . . no she couldn’t. Makima wouldn’t allow a newbie to know.

“Close enough.” You shrugged. You had to discuss this with your spouse later. Spotting a bench behind Power, you made your way past her. A cool chill crawled up her spine, who were you? You felt like that devil but at the same time you were nothing like them at all. Not to mention you weren’t as stuck up as she remembered. . .

Nah, they wouldn’t help humans. You were probably a phony of some sort.

“So, what happened?” You sat down, holding off the cringe on your face that threatened to show from unhygienic everything is. Maybe Aki’s ways were rubbing off on you.

They began blaming eachother, clearly not aware that you were there for the latter half of your journey and only gave them an opportunity to explain themselves rather than point fingers.

“You know I can’t stop Makima if she so chooses to punish you two, right?”

“Please don’t tell her!”

“Yeah, this won’t happen again. We promise!”

“I have a feeling it will.” You sighed.

“If I’m correct . . .” You stood up from the bench, and gave your behind a few pats to relieve it of dust and whatever filthy things people have put there. You looked to Power, narrowing your eyes at the way she flinched away, “Your reason for being cooperative with humans is because you want your cat back.”

“And you, aside from being paired with me, want a chance to touch someone’s breasts, am I wrong?” You turned to Denji.

“No, you aren—“

“You were not given permission to speak, dog.” You glared at him. Though your expressions softened the moment he almost whimpered at your harsh words.

Not knowing that was him preventing a moan of pleasure.

“Why don’t we make a contract per se, right now?Denji, you get to touch Power’s boobs as long as you’re able to procure her Meowy.” You grabbed his hands, hovered it over your chest for a couple of moments, and observed his face. He was absolutely drooling.

You retracted your hold and swiveled your head to Power’s direction, taking laid-back, slow steps.

“And, if you two come back in one piece and with no casualities. I’ll join your next mission and prevent this . . . “ You bent your torso to the side in order to look past the pair and unto the purple sludge and multitude of organs on the street. “Mishap from reaching Ms. Makima’s ears. Is it a deal?”

“Deal!” Power nodded repeatedly, fist clenched in excitement. A stark contrast to her almost aloof personality with Denji.

“Good.” You flicked your finger, and in just a moment, every part of the Sea Cucumber Devil’s corpse disappeared. “Try not to disappoint. Makima has big plans for the two of you.”

Denji and Power left, not before gawking at your unintentional show of prowess.

“They’re gone. You meeting with those prunes again?” Speak of the devil and she shall come. You rotated your body to see what’s behind you, unsurprisingly spotting Makima.

“You jealous?”

“I am. Very.”

“You were listening in on us?”

“I just want to know what my husband is up to. Can’t I miss you?”

“You can.” Makima stepped in front of you, leaning close to your face to take a kiss. However, you covered the lower half of her face before she could get too close.

The two of you hear a car arrive not long after, with an Aki Hayakawa inside of it, “Ms. Makima. Mx. [Y/N].”

He escorted you and Makima to her destination and then brought you to a cafe to order some drinks.

You looked around for any pests, and checked if background noise’s volume was loud enough to drown out your voices before you began, “You’re wondering why too, aren’t you?”

“You . . . are surprisingly sharp when it comes to some things [Y/N].”

“I’m not quite adept at recognizing sentiment or intention. That doesn’t mean I’m completely unaware.”

You ordered black coffee and a few desserts and continued, “Whatever she’s planning. I don’t know. But I do know it wouldn’t be great for anyone in the division.”

You stared at the sweet confectionery’s as the workers were stressing out beyond the display, “My powers only extend up to the past. The infinite future ahead is anyone’s guess.”

Aki sighed, even you weren’t aware of what Makima was thinking.

“How did you become. . . “

“Become an amalgam?”

“. . .I’m sorry for the disrespect.”

“I don’t remember.” You finally answered. Your words barely registered above a whisper. But Aki has and will always hear it better than any other sound.

He guessed your memory of your merging was probably given away in a contract and is a sensitive subject.

The two of you return to the car in silence, waiting for Makima’s return.

Once she was back in, and you’ve given her the coffee and food, Aki started up the vehicle and began heading back to HQ.

The silence between the three of you was killing him so he decided to take a shot in the dark and ask Makima of her intentions. Surprisingly, she took the bait, somewhat.

“All Devils were born with names. The scarier the name is, the more powerful it is.” She commenced her speech.

“Take coffee for example, it doesn’t really have a scary image. If there was a coffee devil out there it must be weak.” She drew her eyes to the shaky state of the beverage and made no effort to cover the cup. Then she looked outside the window, to the cars and city scenery, “A car on the other hand, it gives you the image of being run over. That might be a stronger one.”

“Denji can turn into the chainsaw devil. I just think it’s pretty interesting.” And he could potentially erase anything she deemed unnecessary, which was infinitely more than interesting.

“He’s interesting, but he’s of no use to us. Everyone in the division has a goal or faith. He has neither of those. He’s not cut out for this. Not to mention he thinks he can befriend devils.” Aki bit his lip. Denji was nothing in comparison to the rest of the Public Safety sector. He had no experience, no sense of duty, was a slob and pervert.

And yet the stars of the workplace put their trust on him on just a whim, a flight of fancy. “He’s just a kid.”

“We shouldn’t judge a caterpillar when it hasn’t finished chrysalis, or an egg that has yet to hatch.” Taking Aki’s focus on the road as an opportunity, Makima slid her hand atop yours,“The kid. One day he’ll be a man. And he’ll be your junior to use. Yours to throw at the devils that destroyed your life.”

“Give him enough time with devils.” Her visage faced yours, and she smiled.

It terrified you.

“He’ll learn to hate them. Like every human should.”

You looked away, choosing to fill your mind with something else by checking in on Denji. Your eyes widened at the state he found himself in with just a few hours outside your supervision, “Turn on the radio.”

Aki doesn’t even think before his hands reached out to follow your command.

“Bat Devil spotted fighting with a Chainsaw Devil down at . . . “

“Hayakawa. Prepare your team to dispatch the Bat Devil immediately.” Makima downed the coffee in her hand while you basically inhaled your food.

“Understood.”

A/N: First part of my surgery is finished! Might be a week or so for the next ;u; i am in pain

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @justarandomweeblol @cyn9 @that-one-simp

(please make sure you’re taggable if you reply to be added)

I’m going home after my family celebrates Ramadan and Eid so slow updates until then I’m so sorry

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST:

Extra Notes: I’ll delete this in case I find better moments to showcase it in the story but to explain [Y/N]’s Bible ability more in depth, you’re basically able to know everything if it has been explicitly stated (Denji’s boob touching desires) or if it can extracted from an event that happened in a being’s life(Power’s relationship with Meowy and subsequent loss of the feline). To counteract how OP this can be, you aren’t able to read minds and are pretty dense + can’t view the future + it has to be activated rather have it on as a passive. In short, you don’t know how obsessed the sector is of you since most of them know of this ability, are pretty careful about how they act in case you decide to probe their past, and you aren’t a creep (i hope). In other words, abilities’s extent is as far as a reader of history knows not the author.

(Also you just aren’t allowed to peer into Makima’s history. We don’t poke sleeping bears, especially if they have the power to control you.)

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613 @cupidlot

White names couldn’t be tagged + added a few who just commented if that’s fine?

Thanks for reading!

866 notes · View notes

thecutestlittleslime · 1 year

Text

LMK Analysis: The Circlet Scene

"I've never let anyone dictate my destiny in the past and I'm not about to start now. None of us are! We can't change who we were yesterday or in a past life or a hundred lifetimes ago. We live with the choices we've made but what matters is the choices we make right now. Only we decide who we are and what we do with the power we have!"

"Nice hero speech bud, but you know better deep in your hearts, you don't believe a word of that."

So. That happened.

The circlet is some recurring imagery in LMK, but this scene hit really, suspiciously hard.

First of all, the ink clone emphasizes the concept of "role" when speaking to Wukong, all the while removing the circlet on its head and spinning it effortlessly. The same one he could never willingly remove.

The Monkey King, when on the Journey to the West, was forcibly inserted into a role that didn't fit. Any time he made a choice to step outside that role as defined by Tripataka, he was punished harshly with the headache/torture device strapped to his head that he couldn't get off.

That's some trauma.

Just as Wukong is finishing his rallying heroic speech about choice, he is abruptly reminded that more often than not, he had no choice in the matter for what he used his power for and who he was supposed to be. Be a good little monkey who takes the verbal abuse (because according to JTTW, often no one believed his words of a demon in diguise) and take the physical abuse when you try to step outside of that role and use your power against those against you.

His destiny was dictated from the moment he had that put on, and even now he is kludged into a role he wants to escape from without much control over it at all, always having to be what other people either want or need him to be.

Sun Wukong is stuck in the role of a Hero, constantly forced into being the invincible, infallible paragon persona due to his power, giving him little choice. He tried to escape that with retirement, but it caught up with him.

So in essence, he still has a metaphorical circlet strapped to his head that he can't remove without incredible pain and suffering occurring, but also actively causes him the same thing.

The thing is? Wukong was always trying to go at it alone.

Now? He actively has friends trying to help, if only he would learn to let them in a bit more.

#lmk analysis #lmk season 4 #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lego monkie kid #wow this got long #i just wanted to explore a bit of trauma that seemed interesting and then it turned into this #lmk sun wukong needs a hug #i also hope he doesn't actually still have the ACTUAL CIRCLET still on under some glamour like AGGIHLIMFH #sun wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong

264 notes · View notes

tomssexdoll · 21 days

Note

WAIT CAN YOU DO A KIM POSSIBLE INSPIRED FIC WITH BILL AND LIKE YOU KNOW HOW PRINCESS GET CAPTURED BY THE VILLAIN WELL I WAS THINKING THAT THE READER GETS CAPTURED BY A VILLAIN AND BASICALLY BILL SAVES HER?

(this is my first time asking for a request from anybody LMAOO)

LMAO YES THIS SOUNDS SO FUN!!

Mario and Princess Peach

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Bill have been transported into a video game, specifically Super Mario, Y/N is turned into Princess Peach and Bill into Mario, Bowser kidnaps her and Mario has to save her. Only to find out.... A/N: i love this sm, this isn't from the actual game btw I don't even know how the game goes all I know is bowser kidnaps peach

Me and Bill were playing super mario on the tv, clicking at our consoles trying to save Princess Peach from Bowser. Then suddenly I felt a strong wind coming from the TV, I looked over at Bill and saw him being sucked into the TV, I gasped as I began to be dragged into the TV too.

We woke up, rubbing our heads and looking around. I yelped as I saw Bill in a mario costume, looking down at myself and realizing I had Princess Peaches outfit on, her beautiful bright pink dress with her white silky gloves.

"What the actual fuck is going on right now" I looked up at Bill in a panic "i knew we shouldn't of gotten that stupid console, the guy was so sketchy" he groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration.

I heard a loud melody play and looked up, in the sky the words 'Ready 3, 2, 1 go!" play, I looked at Bill confused "what do we do?" he shrugged, looking around for answers.

Then suddenly the sky went black, dark clouds forming everything and lightning bolting into the floor. "Holy shit!" I clung onto Bill, my whole body trembling in fear. "Are we gonna play the game but..as ourselves, does that mean you're gonna get kidnapped?" Bill eyes widened as a huge hand came closer to us and snatched me away, I gasped "Bill!" I screamed, reaching out for him.

Bills POV: I watched as Y/N got taken by a big yellow hand, I looked up and it was bowser, he was massive. "Y/N!" I screamed back, panicking. I knew I had to finish the game to get her back, who knows what would happen if I lost?

I started to do all the obsticles, jumping on the mushrooms and getting coins. Fighting all the bad guys and nearly dying a million times.

I finally got to the last boss, Bowser, I winced as I saw Y/N locked in a cage, high up in the sky. "3 2 1 GO!" the game said, showing a health level on bowser. Nearby, I saw a little candy gun and I picked it up, shooting it at him repeatedly. His health didn't go down by much and I cursed under my breath "fuck..how will this big motherfucker die" I grabbed a sword and just decided to go all in, battling with Bowser. His health became significantly low and I continued to slash at him.

He then took a big swing at me, hitting me and sending me flying nearly off the edge. My heart was beating so fast as I slowly got up, running towards him and battling with him again. My adrenaline was so high, I felt unreal, invincible almost.

I finally got the last blow, defeating bowser. His large body fell to the floor and a big green text popped up in the sky "success!" it read. I sighed in relief, Y/N's cage lowering, a key landed in my hands and I unlocked the huge padlock and removed all the chains surrounding it.

Y/N leapt into my arms and we got teleported to a loading screen. Y/NS pov: "That was terrifying Bill, I thought I was going to fall out of the cage it was so high and so rusty of my god" I nuzzled my head into his chest, his arms wrapping around me.

I woke up suddenly, realising it was all a dream and none of that happened. I sighed in relief to see Bill next to me, sleeping peacefully. I smiled and kissed him softly, wrapping his arms around me and falling back asleep. E/N: THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE OMG

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x female reader #bill kaulitz fluff #super mario #super mario bros #bowser #goomba #princess peach #fluff #cute #cartoon #video games

36 notes · View notes

kasdeyalilith · 1 year

Note

Please please do a part two on the story divine judgement! I am frothing and feral for the story and absolutely craving for more! I can definitely see the god reader punishing Barbatos by having him in their lap as well 👀

Sorry this took so long, I got a lot of things going rn hahaha. Anyways hope you like this!

Divine Judgement II

Warning/s: Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI

Character/s: Venti x Reader

Following the event that you pulled at the meeting, you've been flooded with gifts and invitations from Archons and Acolytes alike. One that stood out is your darling winged Archon, who even went so far as to enter your chamber secretly and wait till you were asleep so he could watch you freely.

You pondered for days on how to deal with Barbatos, confronting him head on is out of the question since he’ll only succumb to lying away with his sweet words.

A silent patter of sandaled feet can be heard from your balcony, his huge wings shadowing the room. He must’ve memorized your schedule since you falsely put that you’ll be checking a certain area at this time but you have other plans as you glamoured yourself to be invincible.

You watch as his head turn from side to side to look out for any signs of you or your handmaidens, after making sure that you’re not in the room he jumps to your bed giggling as the bed creaks under the weight. He sighs as he grinds against the blankets and rubs his head against the pillows in an attempt to scent it.

Frowning in frustration, you flick your hand, removing the glamour and catching the unsuspecting bard from further desecrating your bed.

Barbatos lets out a yelp, his eyes wide as he looks at your annoyed gaze.

“Pray tell Barbatos, what are you doing in my room?”

“Your Grace! I-I was just..”

“Rutting into my pillows like a dog in heat?”

His mouth opens and closes quickly, eyes looking anywhere but you as he panics to form any excuse.

“Stand up”

“Yes, your Grace”

His head bent down in shame as he follow you like a kicked puppy. You can’t help but feel that churn in your stomach at the sight.

“Sit”

Barbatos sat at the couch placed in your balcony, overlooking the vast sea and rolling hills of Teyvat. You stepped your heels between his thighs, your dress spilling to the side exposing your skin which the Archon can’t help but stare at.

You stare at the tent forming on his clothe, the little perv didn’t even bother to wear underwear underneath as his pink member peeks over the folds.

“Grind”

His head quickly snaps at you, unbelieving at the words he’s hearing. His heart thumps in excitement and joy that he’s sure you can see it through his struggling figure as he places his crotch over your foot.

He started slowly grinding, clinging unto your leg as he pleads for you to touch him more. Anything to satiate his thirst.

You cannot help but laugh at his pathetic state as you watch him lewdly grind your foot like a madman. This simply drives him more; your demeaning glare turns him on so hard that it hurts. As you tug his hair, he moans loudly, your grip burning his scalp in the most pleasurable ways. His eyes welled up with tears as he licked your thigh in rhythm with his grinding.

“Such a dirty dog you are Barbatos”

“Need you please, your Grace”

You slapped his face, the sound drowning the lewd sounds he’s making. Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look at you.

“After all that stunts you pulled, do you think you deserve a reward from me?”

“But I-”

“But what? Does that excuse you from sneaking into my room every night?”

“No…but he did that with you. Why does he get to touch you freely?! His stained hands shouldn’t be even near your presence let alone body! He does not deserve your attention your Grace!”

Pausing at his outburst, your gaze softened. You removed your heel and his hands that grips your leg tightly. The Anemo Archon whined at the lost warmth, his hands frantically reaches for you.

You sat beside him and pat your thighs in invitation for him to sit. His tear-stained face brightens as he wraps his legs around your waist. His face leans to your neck, peppering kisses to cover up his hiccups and sniffling.

Pitying the crying bard, you decided to forgive him. Besides how can you stay angry when he’s being cute and submissive like this.

You pat his back as a signal that you’re going to remove your dress, he leans back as he help you undress. His fingers linger at your soft breast before he grabs them more forcefully, pinching and rolling it over his thumbs as he looks at you expectantly. You moan softly as you thrust your hip, pulling him closer to kiss the sides of his eyes. You trail over his tears until you finally kiss him.

The Archon can only moan at your actions, his heart aching at how soft you’re treating him.

“Your Grace I-”’

“Shhh, let me handle it my dear Archon. Do you want me to touch you here?”

“Yes! Please please please please”

Once you stroke your palm across his throbbing cock, his mumbles become garbled.

He looks at you as you place his length against your core, shuddering at the sensation of being inside you. Once you moved to have him deeper inside you, he arches his back, screaming and crying your name.

He pulls your face to his and kisses you fiercely while he attempts to keep up with your pace.

His nails scratch your back as he jolts, his orgasm approaching in seconds.

He screams, his fluid flooding you within as he slumps against your body. As he calls for you, his arms embraces you tightly to him.

Your fingers touches the spot where his skin and wings meet, the muscles twitching unconsciously. You kissed his cheek before reaching for his hole, you’re far from finished after all.

#genshin smut #venti smut #venti x reader #genshin x reader #sub venti

315 notes · View notes

nxghttme · 2 years

Text

(Yea so I didn't proof read but I think its right...ANYWAYS enjoy <3)

"Toji, what on-," you groaned, still very much asleep. Prying your exhausted lids open, you peeked at your phone screen, snarling a bit at how bright the light was. 2:48am, Jesus Christ almighty, on exam week, too...

"How are you here, Toji, its been 3 weeks since–"

That was as far as you could go with your interrogation as you felt a thick, wet member glide through the seam of your little panties. Not enough to jolt you fully awake, but enough to make you whine and reach down for the messy mop of black hair that had zeroed in between your legs. You could feel a warm snicker on to the fabric of your underwear as the famed killer began to press his lips on to your still-clothed womanhood. "Mmmmm, come on, baby doll… you know your man missed you."

Your man. The thought made you smile.

Maybe it was half a year ago or so, you couldn't quite remember the date and he sure as hell couldn't be counted on to recollect it either. It didn't matter, after all, not with everything you two had been through. You were headed home from a mission one night and, be it fate or misfortune, you decided to take one of the darker alleyways home. Not the smartest move you've made, and to this day you questioned just how much more peaceful your life could've been had you not ridden off your post-mission high, thinking you were invincible even in a nasty, stinking back road in an industrial area.

It had begun raining, you hadn't cared since you were headed home and it would be the weekend. You could always take your jujutsu uniform kimono to the dry cleaner tomorrow after you had slept in and had a luxurious brunch, and then… you stumbled upon him. A crumpled, bloodied heap of carved out muscle, soaked in the torrential downpour. You could see the swirls of his blood mixing with the rivulets of water, coursing into the Tokyo drainage system. You froze in your tracks before getting on your knees to assess damage, fishing your phone out for your flashlight. Lifting his chin up, your heart stopped—this was no ordinary man, no casual victim of gang violence.

Sharp, chiseled features. Glimmering emerald eyes (, and a distinct scar on the corner of his right lip. You felt your veins seize up as you recognized the Sorcerer Killer. The Zenin Shinobi. Fushiguro Toji. You know, the man who was out to kill all your colleagues and had nigh succeeded in slaughtering the Strongest, Gojo Satoru.

It would've been cold-hearted, but ultimately in the best interest of the jujutsu community for you to have just killed him while he was down like this. Nobody had ever seen Fushiguro Toji in this weakened, vulnerable state and likely never would. The stars had ultimately aligned at this very moment to grant safety for you and your fellow sorcerers with the Assassin being disarmed. Not that life wouldn't continue to be treacherous with the eternal presence of curses and curse users, but this Zenin recluse was a huge promulgator of sorcerer deaths. You had that power to remove him from the equation permanently, now in the palm of your hand and what did you choose to do?

You somehow took the brawny mountain of a man home.

How a pea-sized thing (clearly, with a brain to match) like you managed to drag Fushiguro Toji home you'd never know, but you did. You got the Beast into your home, undressed and cleaned and did your utmost to patch him up. You had the chance to call 119 and have local, civilian paramedics heal him back up who'd likely protect him from your vengeful fellows, and yet you elected to grant him sanctuary and healing.

Did you feel guilty about betraying your fellows and harboring this most notorious serial killer? Giving him likely his 58th lease on his charmed life? You did. You really did feel the pangs of remorse every time you caught wind of Toji having brutalized another lower grade sorcerer that just happened to have crossed the wrong politician or clansman.

But, oh. Oh, did Toji make the guilt so much sweeter with how he worshipped your body.

Sure. It could be said that you both could've called it even. You saved his life and he'd turn a blind eye to any hit lists that had your name on it and truly, he did. He even made it a point to eschew hits that involved your personal circle from the moment you took him under your roof. You would never have thought that someone as money-driven and demonic as the Sorcerer Killer could be swayed by anything.

But swayed and cowed he was by you.

It may very well be that you two were pitted by fate to be the ultimate downfall for each other, or that you were the predestined Achilles heel or you were just both straight-up, full tilt fucking stupid to have dropped your guard. But whatever transpired between the two of you when you nursed him back to health over that weekend forever changed the course of existence for you both, for better or for worse, that tangled you in such a sticky web that nobody could ever hope to emerge alive from.

Insane sex. That was it, that was the tweet.

As soon as he had awoken from his reparative twelve-hour REM sleep, you two hadn't stopped fucking for nearly two days straight. Whatever curse or charm or ill-fate you two had stumbled upon, you just could not for the life of you stop fucking on every single surface of your cottage. He had fucked you and made you convulse in five orgasms before you had thought to chide him for making his bandages come loose. It had been another three additional, exhaustive rounds before Toji listened and you demanded to feed him broth to restore his energy… not that he needed any, clearly. After he had eaten with gusto and you had once again changed out his gauze wrappings, he was back again eating your asshole out as his dessert. He just could not get enough of your body, and you? You just didn't want him to stop. Ever.

How you two eventually detached genitals from each other to have a proper conversation and come up with covenants and boundaries and parameters to this bizarre pseudo-relationship you had no idea, but you did. He knew everything about you, and had actually stalked you for a good bit already [work purposes, Toji had reassured you] and he had been somehow surprisingly open in detailing you with what his life and profession involved. He'd offer you protection and keep your friends alive (yes, he begrudgingly included Gojo) in exchange for your home being his safehouse.

And also your loyalty.

As he pounded your writhing body into the mattress for the nth time that fateful weekend, he made it a point to let you know that he wasn't a fan of sharing.

Unlatching his fangs from the fat of your shoulder, he had whispered that this arrangement would only work out if you promised to stay faithful to him… and that he might not be around often but, oh, he had ways of verifying your fidelity to him. You believed him and complied.

And so it was that you came to love Fushiguro Toji over the strange weeks and months that transpired. You became the haven, that hidden paradise he needed, the piece of humanity he never knew he craved. He could count on you to patch him back up and give him a hot meal, while you sat on his lap listening to him regale you about his latest exploits. You knew of Toji's infamous reputation of being a playboy but, somehow, he made it a point to reciprocate the loyalty he demanded of you… he might not be home every night like you would've wanted, but the way he would scoop you into his burly arms and hold you close and smother you in his heat simply told you the Demon was smitten and set.

There were unfortunate times when you two would be ships crossing in the night… you'd come home and there'd be a little note and flowers on the table. Or you'd find a tiny box of sweets in your desk drawer at work. It meant he had been around and wanted to let you know he missed you. More often than you'd like to admit, you'd sob yourself to sleep clutching the pillow he usually slept on because, yes, as unpredictable and annoying as Toji got… there was something about him that soothed you and made your hollow soul feel complete. Beneath his cocky braggadocio, it was very apparent that he cared for you and did his work as efficiently as possible, all to spend more time with you.

It was eerie how whenever you'd start missing him and crying into his pillow, your phone would ping a strange number with an even stranger message—Stop crying, baby. Daddy misses you too. Be home soon.

You had eventually learned that it would be a different number from a burner phone every single time and that there would be no point trying to call back or return the text. You just knew Toji had somehow been around to see you weep and sob his name and he couldn't bear not letting you know that he wished he was holding you.

After a few overnight stays, he decided he'd leave one of his signature black undershirts with you and you had clung on to that rag like a dog whose master was deploying to Afghanistan for seven months straight. You wore that thing threadbare and the next time he was home, you had told him that the first time you wore it you had huffed at the fabric while thinking of him and touching yourself. That mistake had cost you the ability to walk the next morning because it absolutely put Toji in an unhinged mating mood all night long. He had contorted your body into all ungodly shapes and slammed you repeatedly on his throbbing cock in such a manner that would put a rabid animal in heat to shame. The growls that left his throat while drool dripped from the corners of his lips as he violently impaled you over and over again pn his veiny monstrosity was something that had been etched into your entire muscle memory for eternity. As much as you trusted your man, you had worried for a split second that Toji would accidentally kill you with his ravenous brutality that night.

Nothing drove Fushiguro Toji more insane than he already was than knowing his woman, his Kamo-chan, was just as madly in love with him as he was with her, despite the absurdly extenuating circumstances you both were in.

Both from the Big Three Clans. Both with high-powered energy, yours being cursed while his was Divinely Restricted. Both leading double lives, keeping your head down and doing what was assigned to you. Both silent and manically obsessed with someone they couldn't dream of being seen out in the open with.

It was a challenge for you to brush off suitors and former friends with benefits after Toji came into your life because how could you explain your enigmatic boyfriend? You know, that hitman that ended lineages and dynasties and breaths like it was ordering a venti Americano from Starbucks. The man that your colleagues and friends actively feared, that even the likes of Gojo Satoru looked over his shoulder at the mention of. You had to push any and all men away, because you knew… oh you very much knew, Toji would come for them, with or with no bounty. Nothing was to touch his baby doll, and if he could have his way, he would've ripped the eyes and throats out of all your male colleagues, regardless if they had intentions of dating you or otherwise.

Waiting on the platform of Yokohama to head back home to Tokyo, a drunk lecher in line behind you had thought it a good idea to grope at your breasts and much to everyone's collective horror, "someone" stepped in, snapped the wrists of the fool clean off… and tossed him onto the tracks just in time for the incoming train to shred the pervert to mince meat. In the flurry of everyone's panic, you caught a bulky man in a black hoodie wearing a disposable blue face mask. He gazed at you for a second with an unmistakable emerald glare before winking and melting into the crowd. A minute later, you got a notification that someone had bought you an Uber and it was waiting on you outside Exit 3 to take you to your home address.

When Toji said he was watching over you and protecting you, the man was not pulling punches in the slightest.

He had followed you home that night, whatever mission he was on just had to fucking wait because he was just that upset, that livid about someone putting their hands on his baby girl. That night, Toji had lathered you completely in his saliva and cum as if he was washing away any and all traces of the poor sod he had murdered for drunkenly touching you. If it was his intention to scent and mark you, boy, had he gone and done it. "I fucking hate people touching what's mine," he had huffed as he drilled himself in and out of you, "And you are beyond property to me. You're my fucking goddamn woman, you're my heart and my soul and I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you." Apparently making you cry from how hard he'd pull at your hair and the perpetual bouquets of purple and pink bruises he left on your body didn't count as "trying to hurt you", but that was Toji.

That was your man.

It was a strange dynamic but one neither of you would have changed [not that either of you were in a position to fix it], and God, did this man worship you with a dangerous obsession. And you? Well, you adored him right back with the fixation that should've been thoroughly evaluated by a mental health professional.

Ah. All in the name of sweet, toxic love.

And now, after three weeks of soul-crushing radio silence, this Demon's handsome face was planted between your legs, enjoying your pussy like it was some exquisite pastry flown in from Europe on a first class flight. With the growls and sounds he was making, it might as well have been. It was all you could do to not scream his name loud enough for all the lights of the neighboring houses to turn on and know that they had a mass murderer in their midst. You had learned this the very hard way—once you had moaned his name so loudly that the next thing you knew, his large hand had been clamped around your mouth and nose so hard that you had blacked out and lost consciousness. The message was pretty clear: the identity of the man fucking you senseless had to stay in the shadows. If you wanted Fushiguro Toji to keep coming back to love you, well, you needed to do your part by keeping him and that identity well under wraps.

The grip Toji had on your thighs made it to where there was no budging as he feasted on you… his fixation on delighting in your plush folds and in feeling the soaked walls of your core pulse around the texture of his tongue. The way your arousal dribbled freely into his waiting mouth had him smiling against your pulsating clit, getting the barest stimulation from how soft his lips were brushing against the pink pearl.

You whispered his name as he licked you slowly, painfully closer and closer to your release. It drove you insane how uncharacteristically languid his movements were, until you looked into his gaze and saw this was just another method of torture he had come up with to ruin you. It made you snort out in derision, as if there was anything left to save in you—as far as the two of you were concerned, Fushiguro Toji had permanently ruined you for any other man. You would want, crave and desire no one in this life, or in the following ones caused by your bad karma, other than him.

As the Sorcerer Killer rose on his forearms to wipe away the mess you had created on his face, you gave him a watery smile. This man, feared by your world, was as good as your god and your reason for continuing to be; Toji knew it and basked in that worship you relegated to him. Like the predator that he was, he crawled up to your face syaring down at the beautiful mess of a woman that you were. That he called his. That he loved more than the money and drink and gambling that sustained his auspicious existence.

A huge, calloused hand cupped at your face, which you automatically leaned into with all the trusting grace of a puppy—like the bitch in heat Toji had programmed you to be for him. He thumbed at your pretty lips and you immediately parted them open for him, fighting the urge to gag as he pressed down on your squirming tongue. Bending down close to your face, he let a trail of his saliva dangle and drip into your mouth which, no surprise there, you readily swallowed like it was mana from the heavens above. With the way you adored the man, it might as well have been.

Toji chuckled at your sweet obedience, laughing softly into the heady kiss he graced you with… he loved that whenever you kissed him back, it was as if this was the last thing you ever wanted to do and you put your whole soul completely into it. He had never been kissed the way you did before he stumbled into your life and to his dying day he would always believe it was what brought him home to you every single time, even if it was from the brink of death. Even now as you inhaled and exhaled nothing but pure devotion into his open mouth, Toji marveled at just how he had lucked out on someone like you.

Conversely, you marveled at just how tender a monster like him could get. Sure, the standard romp with Toji would mean your back would be blown out for the next 72 hours and you'd have inexplicable bruises for the next week at the very least… but when he did unexpected, soft shit like this, it still never failed to flood you with a mixture of emotions: warmth, confusion and contentedness.

Never mind that the dubious underpinnings of your relationship was built around the mutual threat of divulgement and death.

As your boyfriend began to rub his massive cockhead against your sensitive, leaking folds, none of those reasons or stipulations mattered at all. You whined for him, trembling and begging him to fill you up already with his thickness and while the Zenin prided himself in being able to hold off for ungodly periods of time just to torture you… his emerald eyes were screwed shut in concentration, his jaw set. You could tell he was doing the most, trying to draw ecstasy out for once instead of jackhammering into you. Ever so slowly he plunged his thick, trunk-like cock to the hilt within you; you felt so full that even if you were free to scream his name, you couldn't from the shock. Even after all this time and with how thoroughly Toji would prep you, the fit was always initially painful… it was always the first time all over again.

For a second you thought you would lose consciousness from the searing pain that hurtled through you. Those porn jokes about getting wrecked or torn in half… you literally felt like you were going to split in two from his otherworldly girth and length. Soft bites and kisses began to pepper your collarbone and shoulders as Toji waited on you to acclimate to his size, reveling in just how your tight little cunt just suctioned him in. So needy, so good for him.

Normally, this was the point where he'd begin a brutal pace of slamming in and out of you–Toji being who he was, he enjoyed punishing sex to where you felt like your pelvic bone would be pulverized from him. But tonight (or, rather, this morning) he was taking his time, wanting you to feel every dense inch, every protruding vein on his thickness.

"That feel good, baby doll?" came the guttural interrogation, as he tortuously retracted himself from your poor, stretched-out hole. He had always said he'd ruin you so that no man would ever want you. It didn't matter how badly he damaged you, long as you had him in your life—even if it was in sporadic, unpredictable increments. The overwhelm of being packed this full, all you could do was snivel and nod your head like a puppet just cut from its string.

"Mmm?," Toji's entrancing face craned in close to nag at your lower lip, "Gotta give me something to work with, sugar. M'not gonna move till you tell me how good daddy makes you feel…"

Any threat issued by this Assassin was never empty and even this one directed at you, his sweet little darling, as playful as it was, was never a blank. You had pushed back and called his bluff a couple months before; Toji had legit gotten up from between your legs and walked off to smoke a cigarette until youcame crawling on your hands and knees begging him to let you finish. If there was anything the fallen Zenin loved as much as cold cash, it was seeing his sorcerer girlfriend groveling at his feet for his touch and attention… and if there was anything worth debasing your high-born rank as a Kamo for, it was pleading and crying to be dicked down by the man responsible for half the deaths of your fellow sorcerers.

"Toji, please–," you breathed out in a voice that only he had ever heard, "Only you can make me feel this good, please… please-"

The way his eyes lit up told you that you perhaps had hit quite the nerve, something that had been festering within him all these weeks you two had spent apart. You knew in within your soul that despite his ruthless nature, he would never do anything to truly hurt you but right now with that inexplicably manic look in his eyes… you, quite frankly, were worried.

"Baby doll, I better be the only one makin' you feel good," came a growl that sounded like it came from Cerberus himself.

His large, calloused hand closed in on your throat, your pupils fully blown with an unnatural cocktail of fear and desire. "I will fucking kill anyone who tries to touch my woman, you know that right?"

You nodded your head feverishly, unable to get a syllable out from your constricted throat. You were seeing stars from the pressure your demonic god was exerting on you.

"Say it, baby," Toji snarled, his emerald gaze menacing as they were gorgeous, "Tell me I'm your only one!" You wanted to argue that he, of all people, would know if you were lying or not; he had his sordid ways of always watching you from afar—any hint of you straying from him and he'd immediately know about it. But you knew, of course you did, this was a matter of his ego needing petted. Because despite being at the top of the food chain, the Sorcerer Killer still needed that reassurance like every other mortal man.

"Y-you're t-t-the only–fuck, ah-h–one I'll e-v-ve…r ha-a-ave," you managed to stutter out and, just like clockwork, the chokehold evaporated into nothingness and was immediately replaced with the most tender of touches. All the ligature marks on your neck from his bruising fingers were replaced now with adoring kisses, it was like a scheduled routine and script you couldn't quite process the logic of but was definitely something you could forecast every single time—the violent, angered god, made jealous by neglect of his own doing, needing to be placate and reassured by the love he disregarded for unpredictable lengths of time. Your rationale was that, at the end of the day, even murderous alpha wolves were just puppies needing to be told they're handsome good boys… you knew the drill and just rolled with it.

Cupping the base of your skull in one of his massive hands, Toji doubled over again to pour his soul (or whatever life essence made up Zenin men, you weren't sure to be honest) into kissing you, while steadily upping the tempo of his thrusts. Your body, your whole being, began to remember and respond once more to its master… that intoxicating thrum rushing through you both as he mindlessly praised you, repeatedly saying how much he fucking loved you, while you fought to stay conscious from the sensory overload your love was drowning you in. All that mattered to you, in the supreme depths of intensity and insanity that the Sorcerer Killer had dragged you into, was that you loved him and he completed felt the same way.

…that and, well, the orgasms.

His body knew just how to wind you up just so, just enough to make heat blossom into the most beautiful fireworks that reverberated through your core. And once was never good enough, Toji always made sure you were constantly reeling from an explosive chain of pleasure that rendered even your best sex toys pointless… touching yourself whenever he was gone had almost become offensive, seeing as there was no way in hell you'd ever reach the highs he'd bless you with.

And there it was, you could feel your high cresting painfully almost inch by inch, while Toji gripped the back of both your thighs to press it all the way down to the mattress… "I fucking love how flexible you are for me, baby doll," he rasped, threads of saliva hanging from his lips as your sticky cunt began throbbing around him. By far this mating press was your man's favorite way to plow you, he adored how he could see just how stretched and packed your little holes got from him and it gave him a primal joy to see you unravel as he attempted to breed you… and, despite making breathing extra difficult, you had to admit being that vulnerable and exposed just aroused you more. The insane angle his cock had in you was guaranteed to break your cervix wide open. If this didn’t knock you up, you didn’t know what would.

You began to involuntarily arch up more to meet his thrusts, raising what you could of your hips for him in the way you know would make him lose his mind. And again, like clockwork, you began to witness the muscular mountain of a man begin to unravel into the whirlpool of insanity that you two created. “Tell me you love me,” he hissed, his clouded green eyes looking more and more menacing with every thrust, “Say it! Say you love me!” beads of sweat were rolling down from the bridge of his nose on to your face, mixing with the tears that had began to stream from you.

You were full blown sobbing at this point, from the overwhelming pleasure he was drowning you in that you, had it not been for muscle memory, his questions would barely have registered. Combing your fingers through his sweat-slicked black locks, you held on tightly to him so he'd focus on you and what he already knew, "Toji, you know this! I love only you, its just you!"

“Say it again,” he snarled, the last vestiges of logic slowly slipping away from how strong your grip on his veined cock was.

“I love you, you already know this!” you managed to moan out, drool trailing down your mouth from losing all control. You were shuddering, knowing your body was close to convulsions that only an orgasm could soothe–and that's when he shoved into you with such force that you nearly blacked out from the heat of your orgasm. “Toji!”, you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He let you pull him in closer, as he buried his face into your sweat drenched neck. “Toji, I love you,” you moaned as you felt him release his dense, viscous sap into your destroyed cervix. You held him close as he fell apart, whimpering uncharacteristically, needing your care and attention at his most vulnerable state. Your raw lips pressed soft, comforting kisses on his forehead as you repeatedly murmured you loved him and only him.

Despite your vision being blurred from that soul-crushing high, you could see your man just as dazed as you were, smirking at you before weakly kissing your forehead and resting his face on your messy pillow hair. "Absolutely nothing in this stupid world gets me off more than seeing you cum for me, babe," he chuckled, as he blindly groped around for one of your hands to hold on to. Bringing it to his lips, he murmured against your palm, "You know I love when you say you love me."

The world had finally stopped spinning for you, breathing was still a bit of a challenge what with a 200lb man resting atop you… but you were registering the sweet nothings the enemy of the state was directing towards you. Toji furrowed his brows, noticing your attention wasn't all on him; the hand holding yours slid to the side of your face to cup you. "Hey, look at me," came the order, and your tired eyes flitted up to meet his unwavering emerald gaze, "You know I love you, right?"

Your lashes fluttered while you rolled your eyes at him, which in hindsight was a poor idea—Toji slid halfway out of you and then slammed back in, causing you to wail from oversensitivity. The man was literally a demon, he had zero refractory period and, if provoked, could go rounds upon rounds till daybreak. "Yes! God, fuck– Toji, I know! Jesus…" was your winded retort.

"Do you, though?," was his maddening response as he began to very lazily pump in and out of you again, drawing his strokes out so that his spend pushed deeper into you. You could only whimper and nod and moan out that you loved him right back…

"Then text that fucking albino cockroach, tell him you won't be coming in to work later… or the next few days," snickered the Zenin, as he began picking up the pace once more, "Fuck, that pussy is just too good–"

"Toji, the kids have exams this week, I can't just–", whatever protest you had was immediately drowned out by his open mouthed kisses.

"Speaking of kids," Toji actually stopped mid-thrust, making you whine for him more, "How's my goddamn brat doing?"

You could and could not believe how this insane man had the ability to fuck you and ask how Megumi was doing, but then… you never would've ever imagined growing up that you'd be ready to throw everything away for Public Enemy. How long you could keep this double life up, you had no idea. You knew deep down it wasn't sustainable, not by a long shot… but as he worked you both up into another dizzying, profanity-laced high you silently promised yourself that you'd always find a way to stay loyal to him, just as you knew he would for you till the end.

#toji imagine #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #gojo saturo #megumi fushiguro #fictional characters

394 notes · View notes

alearicci · 9 months

Text

“I can't see your tears” – DR3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x ann miller!oc

summary: everyone, even the most smiling people, needs support in difficult times. and you are really lucky if you have someone to turn to for support.

a little warning: a bit sad, but with a happy ending.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Daniel Ricciardo, known for his always cheerful and positive image in public, has always been a source of optimism and joy for his fans. Who can resist Danny Ric's beautiful smile? It is rare to see him sad or sad, but one day there came a moment in his life when the burden of fatigue and failures became unbearable.

For many years, Daniel has dazzled the racing world with his infectious smile, quick wit and excellent driving skills. He seemed invincible, always maintaining an unshakable positive energy that radiated to everyone around him. But, nevertheless, the pressure of sports and constant attention took their toll. The fatigue of competing at the highest level and the burden of unfulfilled expectations began to exhaust him, making him vulnerable and exhausted.

One evening, after a seemingly endless string of frustrating races, Daniel found himself overwhelmed by these emotions. Such accumulated and unpleasant emotions that did not allow breathing normally. Tears welled up in his eyes when the weight of it all became too much. In this moment of vulnerability, he sought solace in the loving arms of his beloved girlfriend Ann Miller.

He stopped in front of her and looked at her with his tired eyes. Daniel tightly clenched his hand into a fist, trying to restrain himself and not shed a single tear. He tried to be strong, even though he knew that next to her he could be anyone and still be loved.

As soon as Ann looked at the love of her life, her heart skipped a beat. The smile disappeared from her face and she immediately hurried to come closer to hug her chosen Australian racer.

"Let's go sit down, my happiness, you can barely stand on your feet from fatigue," she said understandingly, and when Dan nodded, Ann gently led him to the sofa.

Daniel collapsed on the sofa, covering his face with his hands. He recently returned home after another disappointing day at the racetrack, and his usually cheerful and positive facade collapsed under the weight of fatigue and failures.

"Come to me, Danny," Ann whispered and patted Ricciardo on the shoulder. Then she opened her arms, inviting him into her arms. He removed his hands from his face and moved a little, lay down on Ann's chest. Ricciardo buried his face in the curve of Ann's neck, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling the warmth of her presence.

At first there was silence in the room, in which soft sobs could sometimes be distinguished. Daniel held onto Ann like a lifeline. She was his lifeline.

She knows how much pressure he faces as a Formula 1 driver, and that at such moments he needs her support, he needs her to be there. Ann gently stroked his hair, trying to calm him down a little and at the same time let these tears flow.

"Ann, I..."

Daniel's voice was trembling, his fatigue was evident in his trembling body.

"I'm tired, and it seems that everything is going wrong. "I gave my all in training, but it wasn't enough. I'm disappointed in myself."

Ann, understanding and sympathetic, hugged Daniel to her, caressing his back with soothing strokes. She knew that it was important for him to release the pent-up emotions that had been accumulating in him for too long. Her gentle kisses on his forehead brought light, but so much needed consolation.

When Daniel's sobs gradually subsided, Miller gently takes his beloved's head in his hands and pulls back a little to look into his eyes. He does not open his eyes because he does not dare to show his vulnerability so directly. She wipes the rest of her tears with her thumb and gently strokes the man's cheek.

"My beloved Daniel... You've achieved so much, honey, and that's not the limit. Remember all the victories, moments of pure joy. This is just a temporary setback, part of the ups and downs of this sport. You have overcome difficulties before, and you will cope again. I will always be with you, my curly-haired boy, whom I love more than life." Ann said and smiled gently.

Daniel sobbed, muffled sobs escaping his lips.

"But I just wanted to achieve more. I wanted everyone to be proud, especially me. I feel like I've let everyone down."

There was a gentle determination in Ann's voice as she kissed him lightly on the lips, her love for him radiating with every gentle touch.

"Danny, listen to me. You've never let anyone down. Many people admire your dedication, perseverance and passion. I admire you."

At that moment, Daniel felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that Ann was by his side. Her love and unwavering support served as a pillar of strength, reminding him that there is more to life than just fighting on the track and constantly striving for success. He clung to her words, finding solace in the confidence she gave. With every stroke of her hand and every word of encouragement he said, he felt his heart gradually healing. The release of his emotions brought a sense of relief, as he allowed himself to accept and show his beloved girlfriend a different side of himself.

The love they shared provided him with a refuge from the harsh realities of the racing world, allowing him to recharge and rediscover his true self.

When the tears finally subsided, Daniel looked at Ann, and a mute gratitude flashed in his eyes. Gratitude for allowing him to open up and get rid of unnecessary emotions. He bent down to her face and kissed her lips. The kiss turned out to be wet and a little salty from tears, but it was too necessary and pleasant for both.

"Thank you for always being there for me, Annie. Your love and support mean the whole world to me. You mean the whole world to me," Daniel said and smiled weakly. "I love you, darling."

She smiled warmly, wiping away the remaining tears.

"I will always be there for you, Daniel. Through ups and downs, victories and failures. I believe in you with all my heart and that everything will get better. Time, my love. Time will put everything in its place. Your happiness means the whole world to me, but your well-being is just as important. Use this time to rest, heal and remember what is really important in life. Together we will withstand any storm. And I love you, very much."

With these words, Ann reached for the blanket and covered her rider from the whole world. He needed to rest now.

As her words echoed in his heart, Daniel clung to Ann more tightly, feeling a new sense of hope and determination. The fatigue and failure he felt at that moment began to dissipate, replaced by a steely determination to get back to normal stronger than ever.

As long as they stayed in each other's arms, their love gave comfort and strength that no success or failure on the race track could destroy. In the comfort of their connection, they found the courage to face the challenges ahead, knowing that their unwavering support for each other will guide them through the most difficult times.

The tears he shed that day were not a sign of weakness, but evidence of the depth of his passion and desire to succeed.

With renewed strength and determination, Daniel returned to the racing arena, his smile became a little brighter, and his spirit became a little stronger. And as he raced towards his future, deep down he knew that together with Ann he would be able to weather any storm and overcome any obstacles that would come his way.

#oneshot #daniel ricciardo #ric3 #danny ric #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 2023 #formula one #enchante #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x ofc #dr3 #alearicci

68 notes · View notes

solunstell · 4 months

Text

Notes I've taken from the Beast light novel:

Right off the bat, Akutagawa's autism is showing lmao. He just like me fr

Akutagawa was already known as the "Silent Mad Dog" or "Heartless Dog" pre-mafia

Describing akutagawa's ability in combat: "as if he were mowing grass with a scythe." Atsushi was right, he is a lawn mower.

Akutagawa bit through an enemy's neck. Insert vampire comparison

I'd love to see an analysis of the parallels between chuuya and akutagawa. Both were in a group in the slums that relied on their ability, both were taken into the mafia by dazai, both have abilities that have an incredible destructive potential but can also make then near-invincible...

"Akutagawa glared at his foe - one of the men responsible for his friends' deaths - then smiled with evident satisfaction...and collapsed face forward." Insert comparison to his death

I think there can also be a comparison In this whole fight to avenge his dead friends to Oda's death. Both were orchestrated, both knew that they were probably going to die, and both were at peace after defeating the enemy.

DAZAI HAS BLACK HAIR?!?!

Okay adjusting mental image I always saw it as dark brown (yes the anime is brown canonical but in my heart I hold priority to the manga and novels. Same reason I draw the hat chain on chuuya and red eyes on dazai)

Dazai points out how akutagawa's foolish death would leave behind his little sister. This also reminds me of oda leaving dazai and ango behind.

Akutagawa is really out here saying stuff like ergo lmao

Akutagawa's skill evolved into the beast-like form when Dazai mentions his sister coming to harm

Dazai quote as he decides not to take in akutagawa: "I think I'll go with that other guy for my right-hand man." Does this mean that main timeline dazai saw akutagawa as his right hand man?

Things akutagawa is called or compared to in this novel: Silent Mad Dog, Heartless Dog, Cerberus, a slide (by the orphan kids), Former Disciplinarian and Current Ambassador of Paper Shredding

Naomi calls Junichiro "Jun"

Kunikida and Junichiro communicating through looks

Canon bitch face

Oda is described as unpredictable and he is late. Ty asagiri for more blorbo characterization crumbs

Akutagawa: king of purple prose

Atsushi is afraid to die

Even in the Mafia, atsushi is described as innocent looking, not sadistic, and respectful

Kyouka is extremely pale, and has a childish voice

Chuuya still wants to kill dazai, and won't let anyone else do it

Dazai is still cracking jokes!

The Port Mafia is more successful under dazai, and there are so many assassination attempts against dazai that he never even uses the windows in his office.

Akutagawa grew potatoes behind his home in the slums

I love that akutagawa's first choice when embarrassed is always denial. "No. No. No."

Akutagawa is a light sleeper and a morning person

"Oda, who was always late because some lady in the neighborhood stopped him for a chat..."

"...destruction was (Akutagawa's) go-to answer for everything."

Akutagawa. Ate. Paper (probably in the slums but it doesn't say so explicitly)

"Akutagawa is supposed to be filing paperwork right now, but he's nowhere to be found! He must have used his skill to remove the restraints around his wrists and ankles, then ran away..." kunikida, did you tie him up?!?!

Oda just kept collecting kids in beast! I love that

"It's your job to look after the kids, as the oldest one there." Oda also collected akutagawa

"It was Parent's day at one of the orphan's schools, so Akutagawa participated on behalf of the child's guardian." So normally, oda would go?

Another parent said he looks like a hitman. Boy do I have news about the kids actual guardian!

Akutagawa raised Sakura's hand cuz she's shy and was proud when she got the question right

Akutagawa hates guns

Akutagawa has been using lots of farming metaphors

Atsushi puts three sugars in his coffee, and akutagawa put four in his tea

Akutagawa saved up 300 chocolate bars, ate them for days on end, and collapsed of malnutrition

I really like the emphasis in this novel that they're really just kids who grew up too fast

"...but a vermillion line appeared on his throat..." ch88 flashbacks

Gin spends every waking moment with dazai. I want to know abt their relationship more. Does dazai treat her like he does the agency in the main universe? Or like chuuya, perhaps? How does gin see him? I wanna know more abt them in beast and the main timeline.

About akutagawa: "'I can't believe such a powerful skill user has gone undetected by our network for so long.'" That definitely has to be due to inside interference. Was it Dazai? Gin?

Apparently, Demon Snow wears a mask, and that isn't actually her face

Dazai is now using his windows.

Oda in this universe joined the agency in the place of dazai, solving solving azure messenger/apostle case. However, he doesn't see himself as a detective. Tanizaki told akutagawa a few pages ago that you become a detective the moment you believe it.

Oda gambles

Apparently the headmaster abused all of the kids, not just atsushi. He didn't even let them have clocks.

The scene between atsushi and the headmaster here is so phenomenal. The way asagiri portrays trauma is *chefs kiss*. A normal interaction from the outside, but with context and with atsushi as the narrator, it's completely different. It's very similiar to the headmaster death in the main timeline

Atsushi looks up to the headmaster in a similiar way akutagawa looks up to dazai. And in beast, he has both of them as negative influences in his head

"There was a researcher who came to the orphanage to secretly investigate the tiger, but it killed him. He had long hair the color of white mist and eyes as red as apples. Had his death gone public, the military police would've intervened and killed the dangerous tiger - me. / But the director covered up the accident. He threw the researcher's body into a river and burned his belongings. He then got the teachers together so they could coordinate their story: "No researcher ever came here." Then, after checking if I had any memory of what happened when I was a tiger, the director locked me in a basement cell. He continued handling the aftermath every time the tiger went berserk going forward. He locked me in the basement in seclusion so there wouldn't be any victims - so I wouldn't hurt anyone." Dead apple makes much more sense now.

The jazz playing in Lupin is a about "a heartbreaking farewell."

Oda sits one seat away from where dazai gestures.

Dazai excitedly informs Oda that he finally defused a bomb and had been waiting to tell oda. In the Dark Era novel, Dazai says he's jealous of oda cuz oda gets to do cool stuff at work. On that day, oda had defused a bomb, which he mentioned to dazai, prompting dazai to say he was jealous. My heart can't take this.

Next thing dazai informs him is that he's perfected his hard tofu recipe. Another throwback to dark era, where the hard tofu was going to be a suicide attempt, but ended up only cutting his cheek.

Oda about dazai: "He may have been an adult, but his boyish voice made him sound far younger. He smiled like a lost child who had finally found his house."

Dazai has crystal clear eyes when speaking with oda here. Reminds me of when he was fighting with chuuya against rimbaud in fifteen

Dazai looks like he about to cry when oda mentions they've just met

Dazai really seems to want to tell oda the truth about the world. But he can't.

Akutagawas skill can keep going after he loses consciousness

Akutagawa really likes going on revenge-suicide charges huh

"'You're not evil... you just don't know who you are yet.'" Common kunikida w

Akutagawa saying to atsushi "'My job at the detective agency does not include helping those with a death wish.'" Two things this illustrates: one, akutagawa doesn't hold vengeance above his morals anymore. Two, akutagawa isn't like atsushi in this way. Atsushi would help people escape their death wish, such as with kyouka and sigma.

Dazai says abt this fight between sskk, "That was just as good as match fight on the ship..." This is a reference to the main timeline

Dazai tells atsushi to go with kyouka to a "world of light."

The fact that dazai dies even though three people can know the truth abt the world makes me think he plans for them to tell someone else

"'From now on, allow me to handle any job that involves soothing children.'" Stark contrast to the beginning of the novel, where he threatens a child about a kidnapping

Akutagawa still helps kenji w the farm

"Whenever a document needed to be shredded, he gave it to Akutagawa, who would shout with a bit more cheer than usual, 'I will tear you to pieces!' before reducing the paper into fine scraps." And does he make a salad with it afterwards?

Elise is a beautiful woman of about twenty years old in Beast, which means she either was never a girl here or she was turned into a woman at some point. If the latter, I imagine it would be when mori is put in charge of the orphanage

Atsushi aimlessly wandered the country side after dazais death. I want an au where he finds kenjis village instead

Dazai saved moris life four years ago

This breaking the watch scene is just as good as the killing the headmaster scene

Mori, here, understands that using violence and fear to teach is wrong

Mori wishes he could have save dazai

In mainline, atsushi challenges akutagawa not to kill anyone and then they'll fight. In beast, akutagawa challenges atsushi to move forward

"'Until then, you can live here as my student - no, as my son.'" ILL CRY

I like the side theme of akutagawa being assigned as evil by not only the enemy, atsushi, but by gin as well. I think the way the ending wrapped it up was perfect, by having him decide to prove to *himself* that he is not evil.

33 notes · View notes

writingintheshadowsforever · 1 year

Text

Imagine Okoye protecting you from your ex-boyfriend

After T'Challa's death Shuri had all of the scientists workind double time in the lab coming up with solutions for existing, and non-existing problems. She wanted to be prepared for anything in the future. You were one of the few scientists that had the same passion for your work as her. That can with problems your boyfriend was a solider who's job was to watch over the villages. He was use to you returning home once nightfall would hit, and while sometimes you ran a little late. No matter what when morning came he woke up to you in his arms with your head rested on his chest, fast asleep. So when it was tough on your relationship when you started spending all your time in the lab, working closely with the Princess to identify issues that could arise in the future.

Sometimes days would go by before you would return home, and each time there would be an argument. He wanted you to cut back on your workload insisting that Shuri wasn't forcing you to stay at the lab all night. You argued the importance of your work and expressed your worry about the mysterious illness that took killed the king. His death really opened everyone’s eyes that no one was truly invincible. A illness that was able to slowly breakdown the effects of the heart shaped herb, and kill the Black Panther.

You believed you were closer to an cure, or at least medicine that could combat the virus. If it ever effected anyone here, but you needed to run a few more tests. Your boyfriend acted as if he actually understood, and y'all made up that night. Two days later you actually accepted the lunch break when Shuri offered it to you. Because you wanted to go into the city and surprise him since he was stationed there today. Ten minutes later you returned the lab wiping tears from your eyes, with your boyfriend trailing behind. He reached out a hand to take grasp of yours. But you moved to the side dodging his attempt, and when he yelled for you to stop.

Shuri's head snapped in your direction her eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. When he moved in front of you to block your path, and you shoved him away. That was all she needed to signal to the Dora Milaje standing guard over the lab to remove him. Two of them came to stand on either side of you simply giving him a look with an arched eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but you just walked away. Knowing he surely couldn't follow now.

It'd been two weeks since that day and he was still a recurring problem in your life. You spent more time at the lab than your own home considering. He was still responsible in guarding the village, while Shuri offered to have him positioned elsewhere. You insisted it was okay and the two you could handle the breakup like adults. What you really meant was that even though you were hurt. That didn't take away the fact that you had a big heart, and you knew having him moved would've been a big adjustment. So you just tried to take the high road, but he was relentless.

Tonight was one of those nights where you was so buried into your work. You didn't realize how late it was until you looked up to find everyone else gone. The lab was completely empty not even the few guards were present. They left with Shuri who was probably forced to retire to bed by her mother after days of no sleep. It was so quiet in there you were pretty sure a teardrop hitting the floor could be heard. So when the familiar sound of the elevator whisking open reached your ears. You perked up a bit to see who was coming back to join you instead your blood ran cold. When the person stepped out where you could them through the clear screen. It was your ex-boyfriend and he didn't look happy.

"Hey y/n" He greeted you with a sneer.

"Kaji what are you doing here? You asked nervously dropping the tablet in your hand.

Kaji started making his way over to your station. "Well I have a few buddies here in the palace. They notified me you were finally alone in here after weeks of me trying to find. The perfect opportunity to approach you without the Princess or her guards around to stop us from talking."

"There's nothing for us to talk about. You decided to entertain other women in the village, while I was here working, and so I gave you the freedom you were so desperately craving for." You said taking a few steps in the opposite direction he was moving in. Kaji was never abusive in your relationship, but then again you never broke things off with him before. Not to mention he could have a really bad attitude sometimes. The way he was looking at you right now made you want to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Stop trying to run from me I just to talk" He snapped picking up the pace. He covered the distance with one long stride and grabbed you by the shoulders in tight grip.

"Let me go" You protested trying to break free of his hold. Your voice was calm but your heart was beating so fast. It was a wonder it didn't pound itself right out of your chest.

"Just shut up for five seconds and hear me out" Kaji said pushing you back into the table. "Y/N stop fighting me." Both of you were so caught up in the fight neither of you were aware of. Another person entering the lab and descending the stairs at the sound of the commotion.

Not until Kaji was yanked away from you, and tossed to the cold floor of the lab. In one swift move although he was back onto his feet within a second. His body went rigid at the sight of Okoye standing in front of you with her arms crossed over her chest. Even though the General wasn't in her uniform and was without her spear. That didn't her any less menacing and Kaji let out a nervous chuckle knowing he was in deep trouble. "Um General I was just-

"Trespassing into the palace to pay y/n an unauthorized visit after you've been told to leave her alone multiple times." She said letting her arms drop to her side.

"No that's not it I was just-" He paused knowing he had to choose his words carefully. "We were just talking" He finished a moment later with a tiny nod.

"It didn't seem like she wanted to talk to you" Okoye pointed put.

Kaji let out a breath moving his head to get a glance at you over her shoulder. Okoye wasn't having it adjusting her body to block the trail of his eyesight. The second he started to let his face twist into a sneer her fist slammed into his nose. It happened so fast neither one of you saw her move only him stumble back into some lab equipment.

"You would be wise to leave now while you still can without being put in chains." Okoye warned him still positioned in front of you.

His nose was bloody and broken along with his pride. Kaji wasn't stupid he knew she was holding back, and that punch had been a warning shot. There was no way he was going to be able to get to you with her in his path. Not to mention with the power her position gave her she could easily ruin his career. He walked up the stairs leading to the double doors to leave, but was met with the sight of two Doras.

"Take him to a cell for the night The Queen will deal with him come tomorrow" Okoye ordered.

They nodded for Kaji to follow them when he tried to resist the point of one of their spears pressed to his throat. A jolt of electricity was sent through his body causing him to drop. The Doras moved in catching him by his forearms to drag him away.

Once they were out of sight Okoye finally turned around to check on you. Her eyes softened at the sight you gripping the table behind in an effort to try and stop your body from trembling. You caught her eyes for a second looking away just as fast. "Y/N its okay he's gone now and won't ever get anywhere near you again."

"Thank you Okoye for showing up, but I don't think you can guarantee that." You whispered wrapping your arms around yourself. Even though her presence brought some comfort, the safety that the lab brought to you had been violated. You had always believed this was the one place he truly couldn't get to you.

"Oh y/n" she whispered in a gentle tone holding her arms out for you. She knew it was important for you in that moment to decide rather or not you wanted to be touch.

While the thought of physical contact or being caged into someone else's arms did make you a bit uncomfortable. You trusted the General after all she did save you from him, so there was no hesitation on your part in walking into her arms. Letting out a sigh of relief when she closed them around your body. "Hey calm down alright you're safe rather the Queen decides to lock him up or not. I promise he will have to get through me to get to you."

"Okoye I appreciate that but you have more important things to do besides play bodyguard for me" You said.

"Standing between you and anyone who wants to hurt you is exactly what I want to do." Okoye said without hesitation there was some emotion in her voice. That you couldn't exactly pick up on, but the message was loud and clear.

As long as Okoye was around your ex-boyfriend wouldn't ever touch you again.

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #black panther imagine #okoye imagine #okoye x reader

292 notes · View notes

hippodamoi · 2 months

Text

A friend said she read Crime & Punishment but wasn't impressed by it. All she recalled was an entitled man killing an old woman and pity party for the murderer's poor tortured soul. This was my response to her, I thought others might enjoy it too.

"It is a staunch criticism, not a pity party. There was this idea of a cosmopolitan man, a Nietzschean übermensch was someone capable of transcending social and moral codes. Prime example being Napoleon, a man without parallel. Them being 'great' would make them invincible to guilt because all actions they took would be something considered beneficial to society - Raskolnikov thought he was one of these men, and by devolving throughout the narrative he realizes he is not one of these "great" men, he is just like any other citizen and there is no excuse for thinking morals and laws don't apply to you. It's a direct message to the students and academic men of the time. The old woman is a horrible loanshark and abuses the woman she lives with, her niece, and he tries to convince himself that killing her would be excusable since he considers her a cancer on society. But he also ends up killing the niece to cover up his crime as she returns and witnesses it - removing even that sliver of argument or defense for his actions. He hoped to 'serve humanity' by eradicating the mean-spirited moneylender, but also had the utilitarian idea that he would steal her money and use said money to further his education, so that he could become a great man and have positive influence and help more people. The whole murder has the spirit of a psychological experiment which fits the theme and craft of the novel. Raskolnikov has delusions of godhood and this is after Dostovyevsky has been in a gulag for 10+ years, so he knows that the young think themselves immortal and anointed, a common misconception of the youth in western education at the time and even to this day,

After killing her he realizes just how much he is not beyond good and evil. Something he previously thought was petty, something for plebians.

It has three dimensions, his biography, his christian faith (there's several references to the bible and lazarus who he symbolizes) and criticism/exploration of philosophical ideas. Its a direct response to utopian socialism and rational nihilism. He even foresaw many of the horrors of the russian revolution.

The epilogue is not just redemption, but sanctification. Raskolnikov has become a saint. Russian religion at the time was very orthodox and process-oriented, so we follow the steps of his redemption in the narrative. He confessed his sin out of weakness instead of strength, his transformation from the snivelling arrogant youth to a saint is not verbal, its a lived out experience and process. even the title in russian refers to the carrying of a cross, the very first scene is him crossing a bridge from the dirty streets of Skt. Petersburg to fresh clean air of the pastoral. Both foreshadowing and commentary on the squalor most of the citizens live in. as well as the moral degradation of the cosmopolitan cities. Skt. Petersburg was usually described as extravagant and beautiful in literature, while he describes it as smelly, dirty and sort of a wasteland - a hell, you might say.

There's also this dominating motif of christian authenticity that is typical of russian lit. A christian heart will react in a christian way - meaning it will recognize good and evil in a way that a rationally educated mind does not. (especially in reference to that horrible scene with the horse)

Raskolnikov is described as a misanthrope, and alienated from both religion and other people, leading him to commit same sin as Cain, not killing his brother per se, but a fellow human being. that very act transforms him. something in him dies with the moneylender - his common humanity.

out of that death comes a different life, drawing parallel to Lazarus as I mentioned before. It's like a whole hermeneutic event, his return to common humanity starts with Sonia telling him the very story of Lazarus. anyway, enough of me writing novels about novels! It's so convoluted and deep and I genuinely love it. Its a prime example of literature being an educating, moralizing element capable of engendering empathy and inspiring positive social progress."

#the chorus speaks #crime and punishment #raskolnikov #literature

15 notes · View notes

fallloverfic · 20 days

Text

@nnayomaise mentioned you on a post “i don't think enough people understand that, as a...”:

@fallloverfic i think he had to be suicidal before his dungeon, (not as much as he is in the current story ofc) but purely because he chose to become a dungeon lord knowing that it would eat all of his desires and he would wither away and die- and for him having a place to go, he could very easily have left his dungeon and gone back to the canaries (yes they would've killed him but they likely would've just revived him) which would be the right thing to do, he knows this

(continued): "he knows the process of how they remove dungeon lords, he knows this is how canaries literally save the world from the dungeons, he probably thought a lot about backing out and essentially returning to reality but the goat manipulated him into staying then ate his desire to return"

I don't personally think anything about his decision to go with and stay with the mirror/goat indicates he was suicidal at that point, and you kind of disprove this yourself by indicating the goat - an outside force - was manipulating him into his decision(s). To each their own headcanon, obviously, and I like crunchy background for Mithrun, but here's at least why I don't think we have canon evidence for Mithrun being suicidal before he was abandoned by the demon.

In Bonus: Miscellaneous Monster Tales -6-, we learn just how dangerous magic mirrors are:

The manga notes this is specifically a moment of weakness, to an object specifically designed to steal his heart. Sometimes we all get caught on bad days. This was one of Mithrun's (he made the mistake of not ignoring the mirror). He was strong back then, but he wasn't invincible.

As the Adventurer's Bible notes about the Central Watchtower (his dungeon), "Since it hadn't had a lord for a long time, it was believed to be nearly collapsed. Mithrun was dispatched to investigate a nearby rash of disappearances and got taken in." (133). This was relatively routine/not a big deal, but it got him in a chance moment. The goat struck while the iron was hot. As the Adventurer's Bible explains, "Once, while under the impression that his older brother had stolen his beloved, Mithrun wished for a life where he hadn't joined the canaries. As a result, he fell under the spell of a demon" (74). This is framed largely as an accident/bad luck: we can't all be vigilant forever, after all. He even comments about these things to Kabru earlier, "You wished for those things... . . . You wished, so the dungeon provided. . . . Don't wish often." (p.157, Chapter 61: Roasted Walking Mushroom, Volume 9). Even casual wishes can have major consequences, and that desire attracts the demon (e.g., when Marcille is trying to get control, the demon acts on her subconscious desires for protection, and the only solution they have is to trap it in a book):

A moment of weakness against resolve to continue can perhaps imply he had depression he wasn't addressing, and was likely desperate and missing things he'd sacrificed, and was vulnerable to manipulation, but none of that really indicates specifically that he was suicidal. Knowing a bad thing could happen to you - even perhaps a form of death - when performing your job doesn't necessarily make you suicidal, though it might make you a bit reckless and/or foolhardy. Firefighters are not, by definition, suicidal. And there's really no evidence that Mithrun was in his right mind when he made his wish/went with the demon. As we see with Sissel, Marcille, and Laios, the demon is a master manipulator who knows how to overwhelm its targets, where even casual things you don't actively think about can lead to your undoing.

"and for him having a place to go, he could very easily have left his dungeon and gone back to the canaries (yes they would've killed him but they likely would've just revived him) which would be the right thing to do, he knows this"

How easy would it have been for him to leave? We can see what it took to get Sissel and Marcille to leave (Sissel ultimately fell to the demon, Marcille was a special case that involved large groups of people working together to find alternate solutions), and even what the demon used to keep Laios from enacting his plan when Laios becomes lord of the dungeon (chapter 88 is really great for showing just how skilled a manipulator the demon is; and even with fail-safes, Laios + Co couldn't get around this). And it's clearly indicated from at least Kabru's perception of Mithrun's backstory that Mithrun worked hard to stop anyone from coming in to get him while he was dungeon lord. It's easy to, academically, know how to solve a problem. It's another to make it work in the field. The only reason anyone was able to drag him out was seemingly because the demon "hadn't eaten enough to build up sufficient power" and "vanished" (p.185, chapter 62: Six Days, Volume 9). Mithrun had no apparent desire to leave, and was actively working to stay, likely in part because he was under the demon's spell. He even notes in the Complete Adventurer's Guide that the demon's love is compelling to the point of mental collapse. His knowing, logically, that leaving would have saved him, did nothing for him, because a lot was working against him, including powerful magic and his own human weakness for things he could have if he stayed. And him choosing to stay, despite likely somewhere in his head knowing what would happen if he didn't leave, again doesn't make him suicidal. I doubt he was thinking of the consequences all that much: he was too focused on the fantasy the demon made for him. When you're in the middle of a high, you typically aren't thinking of the comedown.

There's also another reason he probably wasn't thinking about it, that we see with Laios (and Marcille, and even I think with Sissel): a lot of us always think we'll be the one to get one over. We think we're smart enough or strong enough to succeed where others fail. Only Laios managed to succeed in part because his plan was so ridiculous and the demon's own overconfidence got in its way. In the Adventurer's Bible, Mithrun notes that before the dungeon, he "looked down on everyone." (76). He was arrogant. I imagine that part of why he probably wouldn't have given up had he thought about his potential fate was that he thought he'd succeed in surviving. His story is very much one of hubris (e.g., his thinking for why the demon took away his eye and ear ends). In the Adventurer's Bible, we see his confidence when he approaches Milsiril to talk to her (86), and we see how he is in combat. He was confident, and self-avowedly arrogant. That's a dangerous mix.

There is some vagueness for how other dungeon lords who weren't Mithrun, Marcille, Sissel, and Laios got out of their situations: we know there are a number, because we see them in the Complete Adventurer's Bible during the group chat scene set up by Pattadol. If it's explained somewhere how they were rescued/removed, and if for some reason Mithrun knew that could be him, too, but he chose not to for specific suicidal reasons, I have no idea. cartchytuns in the notes noted that they were probably freed when Laios got rid of the demon at the end of the story, since the demon in every dungeon was all the same demon, and I think that makes a lot of sense! If this is what happened, that means even fewer dungeon lords left the dungeon of their own volition/abilities, and that decreases the likelihood that Mithrun was able to and actively chose not to.

Mithrun was jealous, angry, arrogant, and had seemingly some form of imposter's syndrome, possibly due to being an illegitimate son when his legitimate brother was someone he viewed as inferior, but his supposed superiority didn't save him from getting sent to the Canaries, which he is bitter about. He perhaps sometimes wished at least somewhat for things he didn't and perhaps couldn't have. As he notes in the Adventurer's Bible, "And instead of [his brother], my parents sent me to the Canaries. I couldn't forgive any of that." (76). He was also good at hiding/masking all of this and pretending to be light-hearted/have no problems and "perfect" (in Milsiril's words). He was very clearly deeply unhappy and hiding it. His already being suicidal is a neat headcanon! And good luck with it/any fics! The fun part of the story's ambiguity is how much we don't know and how fanworks can fill in those gaps! But as of this moment, I really don't see canon evidence for him being suicidal before he was abandoned by the demon.

#nnayomaise #fallfthoughts #mithrun #delicious in dungeon #suicidality #depression #mental health problems #delicious in dungeon manga spoilers #dunmeshi manga spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #suicide mention

12 notes · View notes

mmingooo · 1 year

Note

Hii, can you do one about you and Minho being in in a private-ish relationship at school? 💕

private life -> lee minho

-> warnings: one curse word i think (f word lol)

-> pairing: lee minho x gn!reader

-> genre: fluff? kinda angsty tbh but with a happy ending!!

-> word count: 1,7k words.

-> notes: this one took me way too long, but i hope you enjoy it anon! this is my last post of the year (it’s still 2022 in my country) so happy new year everyone! <3

find my masterlist on my profile!

please make sure to reblog my content!

when inspiration struck, you worked for hours, sculpting and sketching, and after you were done with your work, this overwhelming feeling of pride would wash all over you and you’d feel invincible.

today was not one of those days.

you had been sitting on your workbench in your classroom for hours trying to come up with something fresh that would give you the grade you wanted for the monthly evaluation, but no matter how much you sought for that inspiration struck, you couldn’t find it. you tried everything, going to the han river park, listening to music, going to museums, but nothing worked, and you were groing frustrated by the hour.

“hey,” you look up to find your boyfriend holding two white bags of what seemed to be food containers. “i brought you lunch”

“lunch?”

“yeah, you know, that thing that people eat afternoon,” your confused look gives it away to minho that you’ve completely lost track of time. “it's already lunchtime, y/n”

“oh, i didn’t notice,” you frown, looking down at your incomplete sketch.

“yeah, i noticed,” he said with an amused smile. “if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t eat,” he placed your food in front of you.

“most likely”

you begin eating and talking about your day, minho mentions a new choreography he has been crafting for his own monthly evaluation and you talk about your struggles of not being able to come up with something new.

you joke around and eventually minho offers himself for you to sketch and you agree on him coming over to your place to get started that very day.

you tell him about your friends drama and he offers his judgment on your friends ex-boyfriend, it turns out you two boost each other when it comes to criticizing people’s foul behaviour.

as you begin remembering and recounting the events that led to minho asking you out on your very first date, you notice the mood change, and the enamoured feeling and pounding heart that usually goes unnoticed and only feel when you part ways with minho to go to your own homes comes to the surface, and you begin feeling nervous under minho’s intense gaze. he places a hand on your forearm and caresses the exposed skin.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch a group of girls that were on your class whispering and looking to where you were sitting with your boyfriend, shamelessly pointing to his caressing you.

you two were in a somewhat private relationship, you didn’t want to make a big fuss about you two dating and you also didn’t want people talking behind your back and making up rumors, so you only told a selected few about your relationship and made sure to never be too physical with each other in public.

and you were sure that that small display of affection was enough to fuel the gossip, so you softly pulled away from minho’s touch and he removed his hand. you deeply hope he doesn’t notice your discomfort and take it the wrong way because you were always craving for minho’s touch, but he did, and he followed your eyes to the group of girls who immediately turned quiet and looked away when the saw minho noticed them.

his smile slightly drops, but carries on and changes the subject, wanting to distract himself from what had just happened. it's not like he wanted his relationship to be everyone's business, but he didn’t want to restrain himself when it came to touching or kissing or just being affectionate with you. it’s not like he was big on affection and physical touch and be on your partners personal space 24/7, but he would rather not touch you because he doesn’t need it or doesn’t feel like it rather than not be able to.

he knew communication was key to any successful relationship, but verbalizing his feelings just wasn’t an easy task for him, so he guessed maybe he could wait it out and eventually you would stop caring about what people thought and you two could act like a normal couple.

but why did he have to wait?, and most importantly, why were you so fixated on not wanting people knowing you were dating?, was he that bad? he thought not, he prided himself on being kind-hearted and loving on his own way. so what is it? what was your problem?, these questions made minho increasingly mad over the week, and he began ignoring your texts more and more, and eventually, he wouldn’t even pick up your calls. you saw him around campus, but he always seemed to be going somewhere and never realized you were around.

it made you anxious, you knew something was wrong, he never behaved like this with you, and even though you attempted time and time again to have a conversation about what was going on, you just couldn’t seem to do it, whether it be other people or projects needing of your attention or minho not being available.

one saturday night though, he replied to one of your messages asking where he was, and he told you he was at the dance studio practicing, you frowned, this late? you knew he was a hard worker and would usually stay up late improving on his skill, but saturdays were the days he stopped and relaxed.

so confused, you put on your jacket and make your way to the campus.

once you arrived, you knocked on the door, but didn’t get an answer, the loud music was probably preventing minho from hearing your knock, so you just let yourself in.

he looks at you through the reflection of the mirror as you wave at him, but he ignores you.

you turn a blind eye to this behavior; if you were to analyze what had just transpired you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to confront minho about what had been happening in the last week.

you sit on one of the nearby chairs and wait for the song to end, expecting minho to come over to you so you can have an adult conversation.

but when the song is over, he goes over to his phone to find another song to play.

“hey,” you greet him, he momentarily stops scrolling and you expect he’ll return the greeting, but he just keeps going not a second later. you tilt your head in frustration.

you make your way next to him, your hands felt numb, though you didn’t know if it was because of the freezing weather or the nervousness you felt from head to toe.

“minho?,” you try to get his attention by placing you hand on his shoulder, hoping he would at least give you the privilege of looking directly into his eyes. but he moves away from your touch, and the loud music coming from the speakers startles you.

“minho c’mon, what is going on?,” you raise your voice and your hands drop to your sides.

he fucking ignores you again, at this point you’re growing impatient, you let out an exacerbated sigh and stop the music. minho stops dancing and places his hands on his hips while looking at the floor.

“are you gonna stop ignoring me now?,” you set the phone down, he looks up and locks eyes with you.

“why would i?”

your face expression screams confusion.

“what? what’s gotten into you?,” you slowly make your way to him, almost as if he was a stray cat who would run away at any sudden movement.

“what's gotten into me?,” he questions irritated, you notice his breathing picking up.

you are at a loss for words, so you just stare at him.

“do you love me?,” he asks after a minute of complete silence.

“of course i do, you know that,” you reply almost instantly, you didn’t need to ponder the question to know your answer.

“then why do i feel like you don’t?”

“why would you ever think that?”

“remind me again why we have to hide our relationship from others?”

“well... you know how people are minho, they gossip and make up rumors...,” your voice has a nervous tone.

“why do you care about what others think?”

“i-,” you don't know, at the beginning of your relationship, you reasoned that it was best to keep it private to see how things would develop, and in the case that you break up, only you and minho would know about it, but know, what was your reason?

“you see, i don’t care, i don’t care if other people talk behind my back, or if they create false rumors or anything like that, because for months the only thing i ever wanted was to be with you,” he begins moving closer to you, “and now that i finally got you, i have to hide? i have to restrain myself?... why?”

your mind remains blank and you can feel your eyes welling up with tears.

“i love you, but if i have to pretend i don’t, then i don’t think i can do this anymore,” he finishes, standing face-to-face with you.

you resort to clinging onto him and he stumbles back a bit at the sudden hug.

“i’m sorry,” you cry, “please don’t leave me”

he returns your hug and softly rocks you side to side in an attempt to comfort you.

after a few minutes, you pull away, your faces inches away from each other.

“i don’t know why i was so set on having us be a secret, i guess i was scared of what other might think,” you wipe your tears, “but i love you too much to let that fear get to me”

he slowly nods, as if he was thinking about his next words.

“let’s just live freely, not caring about what people say and just living in the moment,” he softly smiles.

you energetically nod, “only if it’s with you”

he lets out a breathy laugh and tenderly kisses you.

“now let’s go home, i’m freezing,” he says and you throw your head back in laughter.

there was definitely a lot of work to do, on yourself and your relationship, but getting to do it with minho was what motivated you to move forward and make a real change.

#ꕥ stray kids #ꕥ lee know #stray kids #stray kids lee know #skz lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x gn!reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz #skz lee know

97 notes · View notes

blackjackkent · 5 months

Text

Jaheira, understandably, is pretty upset about the whole Marcus situation.

"Isobel! Are you all right? Marcus has been with us from the start - they've been tracking us this whole time. And that was no random attack. You were the target, Isobel. They know how important you are."

She turns to look thoughtfully at Hector, who is carefully cleaning Marcus's blood off his quarterstaff.

"But they don't know about *you*," she says pensively. "Ketheric will strike again. We need you to strike first."

Hector pauses in the process of sheathing his weapon and blinks at her. "Who *is* Ketheric?" he asks. He knows he's heard the name before...but as a Sharran, not whatever he's become since.

"General Ketheric Thorm," Jaheira says grimly, and her face twists into a dark expression of hate. "Remember that name. He's the leader of the Absolutists." She shakes her head sharply. "He was a Sharran once - took to building an army of Dark Justiciars beneath this very village. Alongside the local druids, we made it our business to see him deposed - dead and buried."

Her scowl deepens. "But he's returned. Not only does General Ketheric Thorm live again, it seems he is no longer mortal. He has become, in fact, invincible."

"A Sharran?" Shadowheart murmurs - not loud enough for Jaheira to hear, but loud enough to reach Hector's ears. "Perhaps someone I should seek out."

Hector doesn't respond, but he does hear a slight shift as Gale elbows her sharply in the ribs.

"We met him on the road here - commanding an army of the Absolute," Jaheira goes on. "I put an arrow through his eye myself, only to watch him pluck it out like a splinter. A man doe snot return from the dead and become impervious to arrows out of nowhere." Her eyes narrow. "There is magic at work - strong, arcane, and most likely necromantic."

(A/N: Is she thinking, I wonder, of the battle in Saradush, so many years ago - of the Bhaalspawn Yaga-Shura who had his own heart removed and burned in magical fire to acquire his invulnerability? Is she remembering her old friend, Caden, and how he eventually found the key to toppling that giant? Perhaps that is why she is so confident that there is also a way for Hector to find.)

"He healed right in front of me and chased us into the shadows. We took shelter here, and were considering a full retreat - until you came along." She shrugs slightly, helplessly. "I don't know why he's waiting, why he's not marching his army west as we speak. But as long as he remains, there's still a chance."

She meets Hector's gaze squarely. "You are that chance. Protected by your artifact, you can infiltrate Moonrise Towers, posing as a True Soul. Discover the source of his immortality. Make him mortal, so we can make him bleed."

Another task, another trial, another goal, another knot to unravel. In a way, it's nothing new - infiltrating Moonrise was already the plan. But he is developing a real laundry list of things to do while he's in there.

He inclines his head slowly at her, wordlessly, and she nods back. "Good luck," she says, and sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.

"We're in more danger than I knew," Isobel says with a worried sigh. "If something happens to me, everyone in this inn is dead. Like that."

Hector raises an eyebrow at her. "Marcus told me Ketheric wanted you captured, not killed. Why is that?"

She shrugs uncertainly. "Why does a man like him do anything? Power, spite, some kind of twisted, personal morality..." She huffs out a breath through her nose, an expression of frustration. "I can understand why he'd want me dead. Without me keeping the curse at bay, everyone in this inn - everyone intent on killing him - is dead too. As for why he'd keep me *alive*...I don't know. And I don't want to find out."

She looks up at him with gratitude, almost with reverence. "Now that we have you, I hope I won't have to."

He shifts uncomfortably. There is too much at stake for him to back down, and yet the pressure is starting to become almost too much to bear. He closes his eyes, struggles to find the centered place inside himself again, to ground himself in the moment. The warmth of Selune's blessing is still here, and he focuses on it, lets it fill his consciousness until the agitation subsides.

All things with her strength... he reminds himself.

Opening his eyes, he nods firmly. "Once I take Ketheric's head, you'll be safe again."

She nods, and he isn't sure he's imagining the thrum of power, of his Lady's voice layered through hers. "No mercy. For Ketheric will have none on you. End this."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #caden of candlekeep

8 notes · View notes

hasarjunadoneanythingwrong · 8 months

Note

Command codes recommendation for both Arjuna and Arjuna Alter?

ggghhh this is honestly kind of a tricky question because the command codes you'll find most useful will depend on the situation, but in general

for arjuna alter command codes for his buster cards especially will be anything that applies a debuff as that makes him less reliant on popping his np in order to make use of his first skill get that major damage. Demonic Beast of the Forest (Inflicts Curse (3 turns, 500 damage per turn) on the enemy when attacking with the engraved card.), The Bearded Scarlet Gentleman's Command Seal (Inflict Burn (3 turns, 500 damage per turn) on the enemy when attacking with the engraved card), Lamp of the Djinn (Inflict Burn (3 turns, 300 damage per turn) on the enemy when attacking with the engraved card. Gain 2 Critical Stars when attacking with the engraved card.) The Crimson Fairy's Command Seal (Inflict Burn (3 turns, 300 dmg/turn) and increase Critical Strength by 5% when attacking with the engraved card.) and Tragic Dragonkin Who Knew Naught of Love (Inflict Poison (300 damage, 3 turns) when attacking with the engraved card. Increase Critical Strength by 5% when attacking with the engraved card.) are all examples of ones I'd consider good choices for this because they don't also debuff him OR BUFF THE ENEMY like some other command codes i could mention. There's actually a few more but this list is getting long so I'm limiting this to na-only right now. You should also take into account other factors-like if you have the honey lake ce, the burn command codes on him will be really really funny, but if not then there's no reason to not also use the dragonkin cc that also increases his critical strength by a smidge.

If you're up against a boss fight that has an unremovable debuff immune like Zeus you may want to consider, instead of choosing command codes that apply debuffs, ones that boost critical strength or damage against a specific kind of enemy trait. Because he has a crit weight skill for his buster crit star absorption ccs are less important, so you may find command codes that increase critical strength like Red Gem Lady's Command Seal (Increase Critical Strength by 10% for the engraved card), Mistress of the Heavens (When engraved on a Buster Card, increase Critical Strength by 25% when attacking with the engraved card), Blades of Niten Douraku (When engraved on a Buster Card, increase Critical Strength by 20% when attacking with the engraved card.) or The Crimson-Hearted Liege's Command Seal (When engraved on a Buster card, increase Critical Strength by 15% when attacking with the engraved card) to be worth it.

Depending on the boss, you may also find choosing command codes based on traits they have to be helpful too. If you're uncertain if the enemy has a trait you can usually check on atlas academy or the like. The Great Fool of Owari (Increase Critical Strength against [Divine] trait enemies by 30% when attacking with the engraved card), Wedge of the Heavens (Apply 20% Special Attack [Weak to Enuma Elish] for the engraved card) or Chain of the Heavens (Apply 20% Special Attack [Divine] for the engraved card) are all popular choices I see used on arjuna alter builds alongside ones that buff his critical damage.

another choice is an invul pierce ccs like Fine Sword (Apply Ignore Invincible when attacking with the engraved card.)

These are all also command codes primarily intended to be put on his buster cards as that's where the main damage is, but that doesn't mean you have to neglect his other cards either. Coffin of the Fall (Remove one [Debuff Immune] Buff from the enemy when attacking with the engraved card. Increase Critical Strength against [Good] alignment enemies by 20% when attacking with the engraved card.) is one you can consider (at least against bosses that have removable debuff immunity). Other options include command codes that remove his own debuffs or heal to give him a little more survivabilty, but that usually isnt his focus. I personally have The Holy Night's Aurora (Gain 4 Critical Stars when attacking with the engraved card.) on his quick to help him generate a few more crit stars to make use of his ability to do damage. Mage of Flowers (Can only take effect once every 3 turns. Increase own NP Gauge by 10% when attacking with the engraved card.) on his arts will never go wrong as anything that helps him np is a good thing, but you can always try another np gain cc or just do a whole deck of damage boosting command codes as well. Or put Hero of the Endowed (Gain 3 Critical Stars when attacking with the engraved card. Restore 200 HP to self when attacking with the engraved card.) on one of his non busters...

Arjuna...is kind of more difficult to figure out tbh. I struggled to put command codes on him as theres several routes you can take with him but not a lot of people who have actually explored it (and I'm not good at figuring it out myself), which depending on if you want him to be more stall/healing oriented or arts-crit focused. The general kinds of command codes he does well with are ones that improve crit star drop, his critical strength, healing, and the damage he does. Hero of the Endowed is also good here, as are any of the good healing ones like Good Wife, Wise Fox (Apply HP Recovery Amount Up by 50% (1 time, 2 turns) to self when attacking with the engraved card) which is an especially funny one because he can heal like...i think 3000 hp per turn with it? You know, normal damage. As he's got a BQAAA deck arts specific ccs are also helpful, but unlike buster there's generally fewer of them and most of them are weighted towards helping crit star gather-which isn't bad, but he IS an archer, and they naturally tend to draw stars to them. He also has a skill that generates stars that again will help him so he really doesn't need crit star gather ccs as much as he would cards that help him generate them, or provide other effects. In that regards, for specific cards Brush of a Mad Painter (When engraved on an Arts Card, increase Critical Strength by 20% when attacking with the engraved card.) The Aconite Witch's Command Seal (When engraved on an Arts Card, remove 1 ATK buff and 1 DEF buff from the enemy when attacking with the engraved card). He can also make use of the same damaging command codes arjuna alter did, but as he's less focused on hyper offense you don't need to worry about swapping them back and forth unless you want to.

Which isnt actually what i did with him, i put the mushika cc on his quick because it was cute even though hes an archer and doesnt really need help with his star gathering so uh...i'll be right back!

anyway none of this matters bc theres really only two command codes they both need

#my asks #for someone who knows squat about meta i sure did talk about this a lot #its kind of annoying theres no real guide on how to use command codes like....#i guess its fine you can just detach them and use them again but id like to understand the thought process yknow #meta

8 notes · View notes