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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

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Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up

Pairing: Megumi x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you

I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe

Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.

When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.

“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”

Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.

“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to-“

“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”

Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.

“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”

You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.

-Megumi-

Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.

His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.

Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.

Just like his sister.

Just like Gojo-sensei.

Just like everyone else.

It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.

“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”

Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.

No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.

Nothing but emptiness.

Nothing but darkness.

“Megumi.”

Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-

“Megumi.”

Again.

His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-

“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”

“(y/n)?”

That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You’re dead.”

That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.

You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.

“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.

He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…

He opens his eyes.

His gaze finds yours.

Time stands still.

“I missed you, cutie patootie.”

Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”

You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.

“(y/n).”

And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.

“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.

“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.

“(y/n)!”

Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.

“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”

The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.

But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.

“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“

“But I did!”, he screams.

“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”

His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.

“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“

“Stop right there.”

Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.

“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”

Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.

“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.

“I love you.”

The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.

This is a reason to hold on, right?

“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.

“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”

“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”

Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.

“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

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rosedom · 1 month

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a, d, f for anyone you want :3

(also, i'm new to genshin, so i literally know no one besides childe so far... i haven't played in a couple weeks.)

"your challenger has summoned CYNO to the event . . ."

A/N : more cyno world pls ;c

✦ㅤㅤA = aftercare (what he’s like after sex, what he needs from his partner)

for such a tough guy persona, cyno is among the softest during and after sex. he's gone so far under that it's difficult for him to come back up afterwards; he's all soft n' bleary, blinking up at you with still-wet eyes and moving slowly, lethargically. he trusts you inexplicably ! this trust, then, manifests in a clinginess; he's wrapped himself around you and refuses to let go. you need to get a cloth? he's holding onto you and refuses to let you move even a foot away. time to take a bath? he's got you in a bear hug—feet wrapped around you waist, arms holding your neck, his own face buried into your neck—, and he forces you to go about setting the water and the soaps and the towels while he's stuck to you.

anyway, how long aftercare lasts with him is impossible to parse. over most night-time fucks, usually all he needs is to sleep it off; he'll wake you up the next morning as his usual, chipper self. a whole night's sleep or a nap is typically enough. but, sometimes he needs the day: for those midmorning and afternoon delights on those rough days—especially on lazy ones—, cyno will be floaty for the entire day. you could have fucked him over the couch at 10 a.m., and he'll still be rather quiet and endearingly clingy at 6. (you won't admit it, but these are always your favorite days—the days where cyno allows himself to fully relax and not worry his pretty lil' head about a single thing !) this quiet, however, is also his favorite to share jokes in—the silence filled only with your light laughter.

here, he does not try to carry his jokes with his voice. he murmurs them breathlessly into your ear, your throat, letting your laughter wash over him and soothe him. you staying, even after all of this—it means the most to cyno.

✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

it's embarrassing for the general mahamatra to admit, but cyno regularly fantasizes about you being the general, he the prisoner. he just has so much control in the day to day; he holds the power to judge others, and it is a hefty burden he so bears . . . but, god—imagining being not the hand in control, being wholly helpless under someone else . . . it really, really gets cyno goin'.

because he'd never say this out loud, it always starts the same: with cyno on his knees, wrists held neatly together as he looks up at you with those doe eyes you so love . . . "please?" is all he needs to ask for you to assume your role in charge of him<3

✦ㅤㅤF = favorite position (this goes without saying . . . )

cuddle-fucking, easily. the exacts don't matter: front to front, front to back—all that matters is that he's enveloped in your arms (the same way your cock is enveloped in those strong thighs or his small cunt). fast n' desperate, or slow and so-very sweet—cyno doesn't care so long as you've got him wholly wrapped up in your arms. he protects everybody—it's not so greedy of him to want to be protected in turn, is it? just this one? (these few hundred times?) with you, he's allowed to indulge in what he desires most. it's a good thing you're eager to abide by his every whim, hm?

it hurts my heart to see such a strong man left to rely on nobody but himself . . . please be sweet to him for me.

moving along very slowly . . . i think i may start writing less and less. this event is burning me out more than i thought it would LOL i'm so repetitive . . . (also fun fact 'cos i've had so many 'nari asks ,, i only care for cynari nsfw when cyno is subbottoming 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

21 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 EVENT 】#the note is irrelevant i just #. i've been thinking of them lately . . .#alphabet #sub cyno #cyno smut #sub genshin #genshin smut #dom reader #okee that's all !

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blue-sadie · 10 months

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Yandere Hope

Spider, Neteyam, Miles, Jake, Tonowari x Na'vi Reader

Prt 1. Prt 2.

Them being yandere for you

Spider Socorro

His a jealous yandere your a na'vi and his a human people say it could never work but he'll make it, he gets irritated when other males try to court you even infront of him.

It all started when you became friends with him and the sullys you were one of the very few that treated him like a actually person and not some alien.

It took him a while of planning but when he does kidnap you he kinda starves you out so when he does finally feed you, you see that you need him to survive, he keeps you in a cage in a hidden cave far from the village so no one can ever find you.

If you escaped he'll become more desperate and manipulative he'll use the excuse of keeping you to himself because your the only one ever nice to him and guilt you into coming back to him.

Neteyam

He's a possessive yandere, he fought to get where he is today he doesn't want to be seen like he gets handed everything because of who his dad is and he'll do anything to get you.

When he arrived at your village with his family you where the only to smile at him and not talk bad about him and his family, you also joined in on teaching them your ways.

He brings you back to his homeland because he knows of places he can keep you and he knows you don't know anything about the forest so he hopes the fear will keep you trapped.

When you do escape and he catches you he will take drastic measures and actually break your legs for punishment and when your sobbing he'll just pat your head while saying I fought for you now your mine.

Miles Quaritch

He's a serious yandere he takes no jokes what so ever he doesn't like anyone other then him talking to you or even looking in your direction he'll take it as a threat and kill them on sight.

You were spiders adoptive mother and so you probably met when he held the sullys kids and spider hostage and he saw how spider responds to you so that also fuels his desire for you.

He probably also caught you after you followed spider down after he fell and decided you would be an excellent prisoner.

If you ever escape he'll use spider as bait and yes spider wouldn't mind it either and when you come back he'll put an electric collar on you.

Jake Sully

Isolating yandere he'll do anything to make sure he's the only one around you, friends oh they just heard one really bad rumor about you he'll stop at nothing.

You were neytiris best friend and kinda hung out in the background of their lessons making sure he doesn't try anything on her but as he became more na'vi you opened up to him.

He got a small base made so he can keep you there he'll make sure there's limited resources for you and when you run out he'll make you beg for more.

If you escape all hell will break loose he'll threaten you by saying he'll give out important info to the sky people and when they destroy most of your home he'll tell the people you were the one to give that info out.

Tonowari

He's a condescending yandere he'll make you feel low of yourself when you hang around other people and become a bit distant if you still carry on and make you beg for his forgiveness.

You are jakes sister and came with them to the village because quaritch was after you too, tonowari took it upon himself to teach you their ways.

He makes a hut further in the islands that no one knows about and keep you there but he'll still give you everything you need as long as you behave.

If you escape he'll turn into a mean yandere because why would you leave him how could you think you can live without him.

Tag.List

@sweetirilly

@greekgods15

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annwrites · 6 days

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you're my girl and i'm your man

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy go sight-seeing after you make up. he then teaches you how to drive his car a bit. afterward, you go back to the motel & have your first time (which doesn't go exactly as planned initially).

— tags: billy groveling a bit. billy being sweet on you again. billy letting someone else touch his car. billy being the first one to touch you.

— tw: eating, drinking, sex

— word count: 5,586

— a/n: ok, so, i know i put in the tire blowout post that they were right near the tx border & after '10 hrs of driving' they'd gotten into tx, which is like...did the boy get lost or what lol. but, we're going to ignore that (even if they'd eventually jumped on route 66, it still wouldn't have taken them that long) so they can have a lil daytrip in amarillo.

the 'first time' scene didn't have some big *mutual orgasm* moment bc i've had it planned longer than i did the rest of this chapter even. i wasn't abandoning the oral sex scene idea just to make things ~perfect~ like any other fic would've prob done. sex isn't always like that. it's messy, it's funny, it can be embarrassing. it's rarely like a movie. and that's ok, so long as it's with the person you love.

big texan | cadillac ranch

find my other posts concerning billy here

It'd not taken long, but you'd eventually cried yourself to sleep against Billy's chest. He'd held you all the while, whispering sweet nothings to you, rocking you, giving you soft kisses, promising over and over: never again.

He'd carried you to bed, pulling your body against his, and he'd closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to focus on anything but all the shit he'd forced you to put up with today. He'd nearly lost you.

He had nearly lost you.

You'd been so close to walking out that door. Had made a plan of escape. He'd forced your hand.

He feels exhausted himself, but is now afraid to close his eyes. What if you did it? What you said you'd intended to: leave once he's fallen asleep.

He decides that there's nothing more he can do to stop you if that's what you choose. If you want to leave, he'll let you go. He can't keep you prisoner. All he wants is what's best for you. Whatever will bring you happiness and peace. That's what love is. Putting someone else's wants—needs—before your own.

Finally, he drifts off to sleep, hoping to return to his dream that'd been cut painfully short that morning. When everything was still perfect, just as it should've been.

Should've remained.

When you wake, it's nearly noon and you're in bed alone.

You sit up slowly, still somehow a bit tired, despite having slept so long and you rub your eyes, yawning.

"Morning, baby." You hear a deep familiar voice call a few feet away.

You turn and see Billy emerging from the bathroom, a gentle smile on his face. He comes over, sitting beside you on the bed. "You sleep okay?"

You nod lightly, yawning yet again. Crying usually did take it out of you.

You go to get up to begin getting your things together, until he takes your hand in his.

"You can go back to sleep if you want. I went ahead and paid up for another day."

"You did?"

He nods.

You look down to his large hand which rests overtop of yours. Your brows furrow. "What...what did you mean by it?" You can't just let it sit. You can't sit in unsurety.

He reaches up, tucking some hair behind your left ear. "What, baby?"

"'You're mine'."

"What do you think I meant?"

You shrug, not looking up.

He sighs. "That you're my girl and I'm your man. We're going together, going steady, dating, whatever the fuck you want to call it."

He says it quietly, no aggression, no irritation, just...calling it what it is.

Your eyes finally meet his then. "I assume you expect me to be faithful. Will you give me the same respect?"

He leans down, gently pressing his lips to yours. "Honey, I don't want anybody else."

You sigh. "You've been with more girls than I probably want to know about. And looked at—flirted with—numerous since we've been on the road-"

He chuckles. "I told you before, sweetheart, I did it to get under your skin. To be a dick." He smirks. "It's one of my specialties, I'd say."

You don't laugh or smile at the joke.

He understands. He knows it's going to take a lot of work and groveling and sucking up to get back to where you'd been the night before last.

"Do you want to lie back down, get some more rest?"

You glance up to him. "Will you lie down with me?"

"Of course."

Billy leaves his briefs on as he pulls you to his chest, your head resting atop it, your hand over one of his pectorals. He tangles the fingers of his right hand in your hair, gently rubbing your head, while the other rests overtop of your hand on his chest.

You lie there for a moment, listening to the steady strong beat of his heart. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a watch," he replies immediately, his lip twitching. Maybe now wasn't the time for sarcasm, but he wanted to lighten the mood even a little.

You roll your eyes, even if it makes you feel the least bit better to be back to bantering.

"I have one, remember?"

"Mm," he hums his reply.

"Did...did it mean something to you? What we did the night before last?"

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. How the hell could he have let you go a whole day thinking otherwise? He had known when you came back out of that gas station that you'd been crying. Had wanted to wrap his car around a tree the worse his treatment toward you became. It killed him to do it, but he'd expected you to fight back like you always had. Instead, you'd just...given up.

"You have no idea what it meant to me, sweetheart. A lot. Before...whatever shit I did with a girl was just sex. Not intimacy. Things are different with you."

He turns on his side then and you do as well, looking at each other.

You reach forward, taking his left hand in yours. "When did you realize how you felt?"

You look up to him with innocent eyes.

He looks down to your small hand in his and he brushes his thumb along your knuckles. "I'm not really sure. I mean, I've felt something for awhile. But I told myself it was just an attraction. A crush. Nothing more. And then yesterday morning, I had this dream..." He trails off for a moment and you scoot a bit closer to him.

"What was the dream about?"

His eyes meet yours again. "We'd finally reached Cali and...we were making love in my car. You kept saying my name. I think I just heard you trying to wake me up. But I thought you were about to say it—those three words. I was practically begging you to. And then I woke up and I knew I was down bad. I didn't know what the fuck to do with that: being in love. So I did the only thing I knew how to and punished you for it. For making me fall for you. Even if that had never been your intention, it happened anyway. It was always going to, I think."

You gently press your palm against his chest, curling your fingers against the warm, tanned skin.

He continues. "Maybe I just woke up pissed off from it because I also thought that would be the only way for me to hear it: in my dreams. That you could never feel that way for me. That no one could."

You look up at him to find that he's already looking at you.

Your heart begins to beat just slightly faster. Then, "I love you, too."

His brows furrow and his eyes begin to grow a bit red.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. He presses his lips to your hair. "Thank you," he mutters.

The two of you fall asleep for a couple more hours and when he wakes, you're sitting up, back against the headboard as you flip idly through the TV channels.

He slides his hand up your leg, between your legs and you look down at him.

"You hungry?" He asks, lying his head on your thigh. "I know I made keeping food down a bit...difficult yesterday." He thinks of you retching on the side of the interstate. How he'd nearly done the right thing by reaching out to you, but had refrained. Stupid.

He sits up then and you watch him.

You mute the TV, growing serious. "If you ever treat me like that again-"

"I won't-"

"Let me finish."

He stays quiet.

"If you ever treat me like again, it will be the last. I mean it this time. There will be no more forgiveness. No more second, third, and fourth chances. I will walk away. For good. I've probably already given you more chances than I should've."

He nods, knowing you indeed have. "I know." His eyes look into your own, hopeful. "So does that mean you do: forgive me?"

You unmute the TV. "I think it's going to take time."

He nods. "I understand." Then after a beat of silence, "Is there anything I can do?"

You toy with the remote in your hands. "I don't mind the sarcasm and joking around. But I need this, too."

He rests his head on your breasts, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I know. I just need you to be patient with me."

You roll your eyes toward the ceiling. "I've been nothing but, Billy."

He smirks. "I never promised that I'd make it easy on you."

Your stomach growls then and he chuckles, standing. He extends a hand toward you. "C'mon, I'll buy you lunch."

You have half-a-mind to be petty and ask about his comment of him 'no longer being your meal-ticket', but are so sick of fighting that you just slide your hand into his.

Billy had stopped at an interesting restaurant along Route 66, called 'The Big Texan', which was quite the attraction. The place was packed, with taxidermy lining the walls, and the interior was modeled after an old western saloon. You'd held tightly to his hand as the hostess led you to your table.

Billy had ordered himself a lager that they kept on-tap, while you'd ordered a glass of ice water, downing the thing almost instantly. The waitress had returned soon after to give you a refill and to take your orders. He'd ordered a ribeye while you'd gone with a fried sandwich. You'd considered a quesadilla, but didn't want anymore Mexican-style food. Not after yesterday.

You glance up to him once you're halfway through your sandwich. "Do...should I pay for this?" You ask, gesturing to your lunch.

He should've never said that to you. Honestly, after he had, he'd sat in the car pissed at himself for doing so. He liked taking care of you— knowing he was the first man to really do so. If he'd let you get yourself your own motel room... He doesn't want to think of everything he'd nearly lost, all due to his own selfishness...cowardice.

He brushes his leg against yours under the table. "No, baby, let me get the check. Let's just...go back to the way things were before yesterday. I know we can't just forget about it, but I want you to ignore all the shit I said. I didn't mean any of it. Okay?"

You nod, resting one of your feet over his boot. "Okay."

When you stand, ready to go up front, you see Billy turn back to the table and grab your water—for a quick drink, you assume—until you feel his hand slip under your shirt and an ice cube slides down your back.

"Oh! You son of a-" You shut your mouth as it slips onto the floor and a few curious eyes turn your way.

He shrugs, expression bored. "Thought you needed to cool off a little," he states, heading up front.

You grab two big cubes, praying they don't melt in your hands before you make it outside.

Once you have, you slip your hands down both the front and back of his jeans. His satisfied smirk is cut short when he hollers, wildly kicking his legs, trying to shake them out to no avail. "Oh, you're going to fuckin' pay for that," he says, picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your ass.

Your head bobs, forehead nearly hitting his broad back. "Let me down!"

He spanks you again. "I don't think so. You've been a naughty girl and you're getting punished."

"You started it!"

"And now I'm finishing it," he says as his left hand comes up and yanks against your panties, tugging them down your legs. Oh God, you should've never worn a dress. But the heat here was nearly unbearable.

Your eyes go wide and you panic, worrying someone might see.

He slips them into his pocket, the skirt of your dress fluttering with each step he takes and you know your privates are on full-display.

He walks around to the side of the car, grabbing his leather jacket, and comes back around to the front, tossing it on the hood of the car. He finally sits you down—gently—on top of it, and he plants his palms on either side of you, leaning in for a kiss, one of his hands snaking between your spread legs.

You let him distract himself as you gently unbuckle his belt, and then pull it off of him in one swift motion, his pants falling.

You giggle as you watch him grab for them, yanking them back up.

He then looks at you with a raised brow, his palm extended to you. "C'mon, give it. You can take my clothes off later."

You go to hand it to him, then yank it back toward you, smiling.

His lip twitches. "Keep it up and I'll be putting you over my knee with it."

You give it to him then and watch as he slips it back through his belt loops again.

After pulling away from the restaurant, Billy looks at you, foot on the brake. "You want to go see some cars?"

You roll your head in his direction. "Do I, or do you?"

He puts on a pair of shades. "I think you'll like it," he says, accelerating, heading back toward the highway.

"What a fuckin' waste," Billy says, standing beside you.

You look up to him. "You were the one who wanted to come here."

"Who the hell sticks a goddamn Cadillac in the sand like that? You have any idea how much these things were once worth?"

You shrug, not particularly interested in that aspect of them. "I think it's neat."

He looks down to you. "Women. You would."

You walk around one of them, admiring other people's artwork. "Bite me."

"That an offer, honey?"

You walk over to another one, looking over the various shapes and swirls sprayed onto it. Then to the one next to it, glancing inside the cabin, but not much is to be found there. You wonder why someone would stick ten cars in the ground like this. Also wonder whether they harvested them for parts first. It would be a lot of wasted money, if not.

When you look up, Billy is three cars down, a black spray-paint can in one hand, while he holds his t-shirt over his mouth and nose with the other.

You walk over to him and watch as he finishes up his personal addition to one of the vehicle's doors: Billy ♡'s Y/N

He lowers his shirt, looking at you. "Think I could make it as an artist?"

You wrap your arms around his middle, lying your head against his chest, smiling softly. "Definitely not."

Once the two of you are back in the car, Billy slides his hand up your thigh, smirking at the feel of your heat, knowing your panties are still shoved in his pocket. "Where to now?"

You shrug. "We could go back to the motel?" In all honesty, you just wanted to be somewhere with AC again. The car has it, but he always wants the windows down, for whatever annoying reason.

He shakes his head. "I don't want us cooped up in there all damn day." He studies you for a moment. "You want me to finally teach you how to drive manual?"

You look to him with wide eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You've got to learn some time."

"Maybe in an automatic."

He raises a brow. "Plan on ditching me for some city-slicker?"

"You're from California, Billy."

"That's neither here nor there," he states, turning the car over.

Once Billy's found an empty parking lot to start your training in, he gets out.

He walks around to your side, opening the door, leaning down to you and motioning with his hand for you to get out.

You stare up at him. "What if...what if I 'burn up the clutch' like you said? Or I nick the paint or-"

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek. "You won't hurt it, baby. I'll be right next to you the whole time."

You shift in your seat, really not wanting to do this. "Which do you love more? Me, or your car?"

"Don't push your luck. C'mon," he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you out.

Once you're in the driver's seat—Billy having already adjusted the seat so you could reach the pedals—and most certainly buckled in, you look nervously to Billy.

"This feels so fuckin' weird, being in the passenger seat in my own car," he mumbles, also buckling himself in. God forbid you panicked and laid on the throttle and smoked an electric pole.

He prays to God that doesn't happen.

He puts his left arm behind you. "Alright, press down on the clutch."

You glance down to the floor, then back up to him with a nervous smile.

"The one all the way to the left, honey."

You shove your foot down on the corresponding pedal.

"Now the middle one—that's the brake."

You let up on the clutch.

"No, keep your left foot on the clutch and your right one goes on the brake."

"Ok, sorry," you say, doing as he's instructed.

"Now, turn the key in the ignition while keeping your feet where they are."

With a slightly shaking hand, you do and the car roars to life.

He points to the shifter. "This car is a standard-h. There's only four gears. The 'r' stands for reverse."

You cock your head to the side. "I know that."

"Don't get smart with me right now." He continues. "Now, I want you to put it in first."

You do.

"Take your foot off the break slowly."

The car rolls forward only a few inches, then stops.

"Now, do the same with the clutch, also slowly. The car is going to start to roll. When it does, give it just a little bit of gas and please pay attention to where the hell you're pointing the front-end. Just...don't hit anything, alright?"

You slowly let up on the clutch, wheels rolling forward, and you grip the wheel tightly, sweat rolling down the back of your neck from nerves. You give the gas pedal a gentle tap and begin to drive slowly around the parking lot.

Billy glances to the speedometer. "Now, keep doing exactly as you are, but I want you to shift into second gear when you're ready. I want you staying around fifteen miles per hour for right now. You're going to take your foot off the gas and instead press down on the clutch again when you shift."

You press down on the clutch again, pulling the shifter back toward you.

"Good, now give it gas again and just drive around a bit like that. Just get a feel for it."

After less than an hour, you feel far more comfortable behind the wheel than when you'd started.

You were no pro—not like him—but you knew more now than you had.

"Think I'm readying to hit the interstate yet?" You ask, smiling to yourself, shifting.

He smirks. "That's likely," he replies sarcastically. "Alright, go ahead and park it."

You hit the brake a little too hard, causing the both of you to lurch forward.

Billy grabs the dash. "Jesus. Easy, killer. I said park it, not give me whiplash."

You blush, putting the car into first and shutting it off. "At least it was the brake I laid on and not the gas."

"No shit," he says chuckling, unbuckling himself.

He leans over the middle of the car then, pressing his lips to yours, his left hand gripping your headrest, his right slipping under your dress, feeling you up.

You moan against his lips and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring.

He cups your breast, kneading it in his palm, erection pressing against his jeans...and he slams his head against the roof of the car.

He pulls away, cupping the back of his scalp. "Fuck's sake. I'm not supposed to be the one on top, anyway. Alright, time to switch seats, doll."

He gets out, walking around to the driver's side, opening the door, and you step out and he climbs back in, then grabs your hand, pulling you inside. It takes a bit of struggling and a few curse-words on both your ends, but eventually he gets you to straddle him. He then reclines the seat back and begins pushing your dress up.

Your hands come down to rest overtop of his. "I...I'm not ready to-"

He reaches up, cupping your cheek. "I know. There's still other things we can do if you want to keep...exploring, though," he says with a smirk, growing harder at the thought.

Your eyes flit between both of his, considering, thinking, then you speak. "Never again."

"Never again," he agrees easily, pushing your dress up and off your body, lying it in the passenger seat.

He grips your hips, pupils dilating, licking his lips as he takes in your naked form.

"Now, how the fuck am I supposed to behave myself when I know what you look like under your clothes now?" He looks into your eyes. "You realize that when we're alone in a room together, I'm not letting you wear clothes ever again?"

You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, blushing, smiling slightly.

His eyes trail over your breasts, down your stomach, to between your legs. "You're so fucking beautiful," he says lowly.

Heat pools between your legs.

You reach down then and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"I can't believe you're finally mine."

You look at him.

He reaches up, cupping your cheek with his right hand. "Can you tell me that, angel?"

You bring your hand up to rest over the back of his. You turn your head to gently kiss his palm. "I'm yours."

He maneuvers his shirt off of himself, tossing it over with your dress.

"What now?" You ask nervously.

As much as he wants to bury himself inside of you, he knows he has to wait. He just hopes not long. Not because he was necessarily eager to 'just get laid', but because he wanted to make you his in every way he knew how.

He folds his hands behind his head, staring up at you. "Maybe I just watch you." He shrugs, lifting his hips to get more comfortable, then settling back down against the seat. "I think just this once I'd be alright with being a spectator."

You blink down at him. "You really want to do this here...?"

He glances around the empty lot, then back to you. "Mhm."

You reach down tentatively between your legs, keeping your eyes on his own.

You begin to rub your clit, whimpering lightly at the pleasant feel. You lean back some and jolt when the horn honks.

You look at him, now embarrassed.

He smirks. "Keep going, baby."

You start up again, closing your eyes, your hand circling between your legs, your other gripping his shoulder tightly.

You sigh, running your fingers between your soaked folds, then circling your clit again with your own self-made lubricant.

Billy suddenly inclines the seat again, wrapping his arms around you, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing.

Your hips jerk, and you settle again, wrapping one arm around his neck, craning your neck down, pressing your lips to his.

He moves his lips to your neck, your clavicle, your breasts, then back up again, sucking on the sensitive skin until you have a hicky.

You sigh his name and he brushes some hair away from your face. "That's it, darlin'. Just like that."

You press your lips to his, hips jerking yet again and you gasp against his lips.

"Shh, I know. You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You nod, crushing your lips back to his, a low mewling sound coming from the back of your throat.

Your fingers begin to circle faster and faster, slipping between your legs, then back to your clit, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, you even accidentally bite Billy's lower lip at one point, but he just moans at the feeling.

"Fuck, do that again."

You do, gently biting down, then running your tongue over the now-sensitive spot, kissing him again and again.

And then, finally, you arch your back, crying out in euphoria, that bundle between your legs jerking under your fingers, pulsating.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, softly crying his name.

He slides his hands up your back, your skin slick with sweat, before cupping your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, your expression now serene, if not a bit sleepy.

"You're lucky I didn't finish in my fucking jeans just now."

You laugh.

When you get back to the room, Billy glances to you with a smirk as he unlocks the door.

"You do know driving my car isn't the only thing I'm going to be teaching you, right?"

"You're such a perv."

He balks, dramatically placing his hand over his heart as he pushes the door open, arm holding it for you. "I was talking about teaching you to surf. Now whose mind is in the gutter?"

You bite your lip as you step past him, now embarrassed.

And then he slaps your ass as he shuts the door behind himself. "Seems I'm starting to finally rub off on you, huh?"

You're very thorough as you shower, well and truly taking your time scrubbing every inch of yourself, shaving your legs and armpits, and giving yourself only a small trim downstairs. Once clean, you stand before the mirror, blow-drying your hair, then teasing it just as you had the other day. He'd liked when you did that.

You ignore your pounding heart and sweaty palms to the best of your ability. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you should continue to wait. Maybe it'll be a mistake.

Or maybe, like Billy had said a few nights ago, that 'mistake' could turn out to be one of the best things you've ever done.

When you exit the bathroom, it's in nothing more than a towel and Billy glances from the TV to you with a smirk, the arm down at his side holding the remote, other arm across his forehead. "Guess I found something more interesting to watch," he says, turning it off.

You shift from one foot to the other. "Do... You said you have condoms, right?"

He stares at you for just a moment longer, then sits up suddenly. "What?"

You grip the towel more tightly. "I think I'm ready."

"In the car you said-"

"I know," you say quietly. "I...I kind of wanted to the other night. And in the car. I don't know what I'm waiting for, really. I always said I wanted to fall in love first and now I have, so..."

You trail off, glancing down to the carpet, then back up to him, finding him now seated on the edge of the bed.

He stands, coming over to you.

You look up at him and soften when he cups your cheek. "Are you sure about this?"

You nod.

He studies you for a moment longer, and then he steps over to his bag, unzipping a side pocket, removing a small, square, silver wrapper.

Hands trembling slightly, you drop your towel to the floor, thankful the curtains are already shut, only a small fraction of light streamlines across the bed which you lie down on, waiting for him.

You watch as he undresses and you can't help but think he, too, looks just a bit nervous. You wonder if he's ever been that before with a girl.

You don't ask.

He tears the wrapper open with his teeth, then rolls the condom over his already-hard length and walks over to you, crawling on top of you.

You spread your legs, letting him between them. You reach up, cupping his cheek and his gaze softens.

You feel his erection brush against your inner thigh.

"I know you said you were sure-"

"I am," you say, lifting your head, pressing your lips to his.

He then reaches between your thighs, ensuring you're already wet. And his fingers come away soaked.

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as he rubs the tip of himself against you, then slowly begins to ease inside.

It pinches for a moment, rather painfully, and you bite your lip at the feeling, but once he's past that threshold and buried in your sweet wetness, it feels...wonderful.

When you look up at him, it hits you all at once. How just over a week ago you'd been sitting in class absolutely hating his existence, his very presence, and now here you were, completely in love with him. His heart had belonged to you all along.

You wonder if he would've run away with anyone else—would've made such a quick split-second decision to leave it all behind, with only you at his side. Would've protected, and provided for, and looked after, and chased down another like had you.

You were it for him, and it's in that moment of you looking up at him, into his eyes—tears shimmering in them—your bodies joined together as one, that you know he is for you, too.

"You're mine," he whispers, voice husky, quiet.

He begins to gently rock his hips against your own.

"Yes," you sigh, lifting a leg onto his strong back.

"I'll never love anyone else the way I love you, not after everything we've been through. Only we understand each other. No one else ever could—will. You're mine. Forever."

You nod, a tear slipping down the side of your face. "Forever."

When Billy finishes, he's unsure that he's ever felt so happy in his entire life. The only thing that could compare was the feeling of the ocean under his feet.

Finding you was finding the missing part of him—a piece of a puzzle he hadn't even been aware he was trying to solve, falling into place, squarely into his heart. Slowly, you were mending him back into one completeness of a man.

He lays on his side, looking down at you, smiling. "So, did you, uh..." He trails off, nodding lightly.

You reach up, brushing a curl away, smiling slightly, but he can tell something isn't right.

"Not...really."

His brows furrow.

"No?"

You shake your head lightly. It wasn't his fault. Sometimes things just took a bit more effort for a girl, right? "No."

He lays on his back, wondering what the hell he'd done wrong.

Admittedly, he'd finished a bit more quickly than what was typical for him.

"Alright, just give me a minute," he says, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate.

You lie beside him, looking over at his naked body. "It's okay. I can just-"

His eyes open. "No, I want to be the one to do it."

You grow quiet.

He then sits up. "Fuck this, we'll do it another way, then."

He kneels at the end of the bed, gripping your hips, pulling you toward him.

You sit back on your forearms, looking down at him. "Billy, what're you-"

You lay back down again. "Oh God," you said breathily as his hot mouth lowers onto your sex.

He eases your legs over his shoulders, flicking his tongue against your clit, then spearing it, fucking you with it.

You grip the sheets beneath you, arching your back at the amazing feeling.

He eases two fingers inside you, arching them upward just like the other night—since you'd seemed to enjoy that so much—and he continues to suck against your clit, bothering to even trace the alphabet along it.

You close your eyes, brows furrowed, skin hot, nipples hard as your back arches atop the soft mattress.

He gently grips one of your hips with his free hand, then reaches up, twining his fingers with your own.

"Ah, I love you," you say in a whisper, squeezing his hand.

He plants a few kisses to your pussy in reply. "I love you, too, baby." He then goes back to teasing that sensitive nerve bundle with his experienced tongue.

Your thighs tighten around his head and he knows you're close.

He traces his name with his tongue, and just as he's halfway through 'Hargrove' do your eyes pop open, your back arching, your hand squeezing his fingers so hard he's sure you might just break one as you scream his name as you climax. He really fucking hopes the people staying next to you heard every second of it.

As you come back down, head light and swimming, he stands, quickly throwing away the ruined condom, putting on a fresh one.

Your body is still twitching and sensitive when he looks down at you with a smirk. "So, did you cum that time?"

"Y-yes."

He positions himself between your still-spread legs. "Good, because I'm ready again."

Before you can even react and ask for a few seconds to catch your bearings, he sheathes himself.

"You're going to fucking cum this time."

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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oddinary4bts · 7 months

Text

November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

“I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

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nunalastor · 21 days

Note

A million plus one years ago I sent an ask about a mistaken DFF scenario. Basically, after Charlie finally gets Alastor to sleep by drugging him, his sleep deprived ass falls into a coma and she panics and instructs everyone in the hotel to hide the fact that Alastor's in a coma so that none of his enemies will try to take advantage of his vulnerable state before she can figure out how to fix things. But the secret-keeping causes Rosie and some others who care about Alastor to grow suspicious and they eventually come to the conclusion that Charlie and her people are keeping Alastor prisoner and mount a rescue.

I'd like to expand on that.

At first when Alastor falls into his deep sleep, Charlie is relieved. Finally! No more talk of ceiling children! Sure, Alastor will probably be pretty annoyed with her when he wakes up but one he realizes how much better he feels after a full night's rest he'll forgive her, surely. The next morning Alastor doesn't wake up but that's fine. He's gone years and years without sleeping, he's allowed to sleep in now. It's not like people are lining up to attack the hotel with Lucifer Morningstar living there anyway. She later checks up on Alastor in the afternoon to find him still asleep and, well, maybe it's a bit worrisome, but she can leave him a bit longer, right? He looks so comfortable curled up on his bed - rather, the bed she asked Lucifer to conjure up for him since Alastor didn't even HAVE a bed in his room - she thinks he's probably fine.

A full twenty-four hours has passed and Alastor's still not awake. Charlie begins to worry. She shakes his shoulder. Gently at first, then harder, and then she's calling his name louder and louder and then suddenly Vaggie's there asking what's wrong because Charlie didn't realize that she was shouting so loud that the others in the hotel could hear, or that she's begun crying.

Vaggie calls everyone up into the room and Charlie explains; she was worried about Alastor hallucinating from the lack of sleep so she slipped him a sleeping pill and now he won't wake up and she doesn't know what to do. Niffty tries, shaking Alastor violently while screaming in his face before Husk pulls her off. Angel Dust asks if he's still alive which Vaggie confirms.

"He's not dead, just dead asleep."

So the question is, what do they do? If they can't wake him up is there some kind of doctor or someone they can take him to? Husk offers a surprising amount of insight, describing sleep deprivation as a form of torture he's personally witnessed, maybe even experienced, and that Alastor may need a lot more than just one day's sleep to recover if that's really what he's been doing to himself.

"Truth is, I didn't even know the bastard did sleep. I'm willing to bet he's been keeping this bullshit up near as long as he's been in Hell."

Charlie's heart breaks hearing that. Torture. Alastor's been torturing himself practically since he got to Hell because... why? She can't wrap her head around it. And if he's really been doing this for decades, how many years of sleep will it take for him to wake up?

Lucifer pulls Charlie into a hug, reassuring her that this isn't her fault. They'll make sure nothing happens to the tacky piece of shit while he's sleeping. Then he cracks a joke about Alastor being more tolerable asleep, which doesn't get many laughs.

Months pass. Everyone's collectively agreed to hide the fact that Alastor's comatose. As a former overlord, Husk makes it clear that there are plenty of sinners who would jump at the chance to take out Alastor while he's in no shape to defend himself. So they don't tell anyone, not even Alastor's known friends. Just because Alastor calls them friends doesn't mean they won't take advantage of a moment of weakness, Husk cautions.

Even Husk finds himself tempted. When it's his turn to watch over Alastor's comatose body, his eyes find the other demon's throat. He pulls out his angelic steel-lined playing cards, holds them to Alastor's skin, imagines the feel of his collar falling from his own throat as he splits open that scrawny, defenseless neck...

Ultimately, Husk doesn't go through with it. He's too attached to Angel Dust and the hotel to jeopardize his place there. Besides, as evil and fucked up as Alastor is, he wouldn't go after a sleeping target. Husk can at the very least return the favor. But he does say that he probably shouldn't be left alone with Alastor in the future.

Over time though, other overlords begin to take notice of Alastor's absence in public. Vox goes on live television to mock Alastor's defeat at Adam's hands while broadcasting the video and accusing Alastor of hiding away out of cowardice. Zestial's eyes linger on Alastor's empty seat in the meeting room. Rosie sends invitation after invitation for Alastor to join her for coffee to catch up, only to receive apologetic notes back that are distinctly not in Alastor's handwriting.

After nearly a year Rosie becomes convinced that something unscrupulous is happening at the hotel. So, without giving Charlie or her little gang any forewarning of her arrival, she drops in before they can have a chance to try to hide anything from her. And they are mot definitely trying to hide something from her. Unlike her father, Charlie is not a good liar, nor is her exorcist girlfriend. When Rosie asks where Alastor is they sputter and make excuses before Lucifer cuts in and takes over the conversation. He's much more eloquent than the girls are and easily redirects the conversation, but Rosie can clearly see that he's diverting her attention away from Alastor. She doesn't call him out, however, because what's she going to do? Fight the King of Hell? No, she lets Lucifer take up her time, thanks him for a lovely visit, and leaves when he directs her to. But after walking out the doors she's absolutely certain of one thing; the Morningstars have done something to Alastor. And more than likely, they're keeping him trapped in that very hotel, away from prying eyes.

She goes to Zestial to request his help in liberating her friend.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #dark forced family

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moremaybank · 10 months

Note

Heyyyyy Lovely 🩷💕💖! I was wondering if we could get a JJ x routledge!reader when John B finds out readers pregnant, I LOVE YOUR WRITING KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!!!!!!! 💝

warnings mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sexual relations, slight language

jj masterlist

You and JJ are on your way to the chateau. The atmosphere consists of a mix of nervousness and anticipation as the weight of your news hangs in the air. You're staring out at the sights from your window, your mind wandering and tuning out the noise of the radio. Your teeth are sunken into your bottom lip, and if you bite down any harder, you're sure to draw blood.

JJ knows you're stressed. It's written all over your face, not that he needs to look at you to know what's going on inside of that mind he loves so much. He steadies his left hand on the steering wheel, and reaches over the middle console to intertwine your fingers. His touch and voice pull you out of your anxious daze.

"It's gonna be okay, baby," he says. You turn to face him, and he looks over at you for as long as he can with a comforting look in hopes of calming your nerves. "Everything's gonna work out."

You sigh. "I'm just worried. He flipped when he found out we were dating, and now, there's a baby on the way? I just don't see this going all that smoothly."

"He flipped because he found me balls deep inside you. I don't think he would've taken that news so badly if he hadn't." You both laugh at his joke, and he gives your hand a squeeze. "He loves us. He'll be okay."

You smile at your boyfriend. He always knows exactly how to cheer you up, even when you can't see a way of doing so.

"I love you, y'know that? You keep me sane."

"I love you, and our lil' nugget," he grins, showing off his dimple. "'N John B will too. I promise."

When you two pull up to the chateau, you get out of the car and walk hand in hand to the door, and your heart races. Before knocking, JJ pulls you into him. His arms circle your body and he kisses your hairline. He murmurs a we got this, pretty girl against your skin. You don't know if he's talking about what your about to conquer, or the pregnancy, or both. Still, it doesn't matter, because having him by your side is everything.

The door swings open, and John B comes into view. "What's up you two?"

JJ quirks a brow. "How'd you know we were here?"

"Well, between your car horn going off when you locked it, and your loud, clunky-ass boots, you weren't exactly subtle with your arrival."

You all share a laugh and enter the chateau, heading to the living room.

"So, what's going on? Why'd you request a meeting with me?"

You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh. "You're so lame. And to answer your question, we actually have some news for you."

"Hmm," John B hums, pretending to be deep in thought. "JJ's finally gonna start paying me rent?"

"In your dreams, man," JJ replies. "'N I'm actually gonna be moving into Y/N's place."

John B's eyes flash with excitement. "Great! That means I don't have to listen to you two going at it like you've been in prison for ten years without getting any."

"Ew, no," you say. You exchange a glance with JJ, who gives you an encouraging nod. You hesitate for a moment, before finally deciding to tell him. "John B, JJ's moving in with me 'cause we're...pregnant."

You wait for the explosion, but it never comes. Instead, your statement is followed with silence and a dropped jaw. The longer it goes on, the more JJ loses his cool, and he eventually flips. He stands up abruptly, running his hand through his hair.

"Okay, look, dude. I know you probably wanna punch me out right now, or kick me in the nuts, but I swear, I-"

"Pregnant," John B repeats, eyes trained on you.

You gulp, nodding in confirmation. "Yup. Preggers."

John B's lips spread into a wide grin, and he yanks JJ back down so he can wrap you both in a group hug. The excitement is practically coming out of his ears as he squeezes you both tightly.

"Wait a sec. You're happy about this?" You ask, clearly in shock. "I thought you were gonna kill JJ."

"Are you kidding me?" John B kisses your cheek, then JJ's (who can't contain his laugh), and then your other one. "This is amazing! I'm gonna be an uncle! Oh my god, I gotta go buy a car seat for the Twinkie. And floaties for when Baby Maybank is on the Pogue, and-"

"Woah. You've got time, JB. I'm barely twelve weeks," you laugh. "But I am thrilled about your enthusiasm."

"Yeah, man. I thought you were going to kick my ass," JJ adds. "Definitely wasn't expecting all this."

John B's smile is infectious, and you instantly feel relief wash over you at the sight of his contagious enthusiasm. It warms your heart, seeing how happy he is about the news. You feel like you can breathe again, like you can truly be excited yourself about it all.

"I love you guys, and I know you're gonna make great parents. But you," he says, his eyes moving solely onto you. "You're still my baby sister. I'm gonna be with you every step of the way."

You smile up at him, cuddling into him more. "I love you too, uncle JB."

jj tag list (join here!): @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @cecesrings @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @pinkpantheris @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie @rafesveryrealgf

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preludicrous · 5 months

Text

why i believe the prison break storyline was also sigma's entrance exam

the long overdue post that i teased literal months before posting it (sorry i am a college student and quite overworked)

[ massive spoilers for the mersault arc of bsd, including s5e11 of the anime and recent manga chapters. ]

sigma is alive

first of all: sigma's not dead.

sigma's not dead because his character arc is nowhere near over, and from a writing perspective, it doesn't make sense to kill him without drawing that out to some kind of conclusion.

for someone who had a pretty major role in recent arcs, whose entire characterization in the story has been set up around a deep need for belonging and a "home" and people who don't want to "use" him, the plotline so far sure hasn't wrapped up his story in any satisfying way. as far as it appears right now, he just kind of... touched fyodor and died. is that really it for him?

especially after he finally starts to reject fyodor's manipulation, and finally makes choices for himself, like the choice to side with dazai?

no, i'm not convinced he's dead- bsd's very guilty of fake out deaths, and there is no reason for me to believe that sigma's actually dead when his arc is still clearly unfinished.

sigma joining the ADA makes sense

in the mersault arc, it is established that sigma wants to join the ADA. fyodor even says it point blank to him, and he doesn't deny it. he thinks about the ADA and how they're "not using dazai, and dazai isn't using them". they are a group of people who care about each other and take care of each other of their own agency, no pun intended.

as i mentioned above, sigma's entire character so far has been revolving around belonging and how he wishes to find a home. a home suited for a bizarre gifted like him with no past, who doesn't understand why he exists. in many respects, a lot of the agency members share similarities to sigma in the sense that they also didn't understand their place in the world.

atsushi's an orphan who was told he should just "die in a ditch somewhere".

dazai's an empty man who sees no purpose in existence.

ranpo was a genius surrounded by monsters, and he could never comprehend why the world was so illogical and strange.

the character whose backstory is the most similar to sigma is yosano. like sigma, she had a powerful gift. like sigma, she was used for that gift. mori took advantage of her healing to create an undead army against her will. the difference is that yosano despaired, while sigma is resentful - yosano isolated herself since there was no way for her to live without being used for her gift, while sigma is bitter regarding the unfair nature of the world that he is continually used.

in the end, yosano is found by the agency and ranpo. ranpo says this:

the ADA is a place where ability users are valued for their personhood, not their ability. for sigma and yosano, who have only ever been valued by others for their powerful abilities, the ADA is the only place they belong, the one place they can live freely as full people rather than just vessels for their abilities.

sigma wants to join. it's the perfect culmination of his arc. he'll finally have a home, a place to belong. in his first decision he makes of his own free will, he chooses to help the ADA. plus, his ability is information exchange, which couldn't be more perfect for detective work.

it ties up all the loose ends neatly.

sigma's entrance exam

so, if the title didn't make it clear, yeah. i'm pretty convinced that sigma's entrance exam was the mersault prison break. i mean, he clearly wants to join the agency, and dazai's compared him to like half of the members already.

the armed detective agency fandom wiki has some information on entrance exams. (i know, i know, not a primary source, but I don't have that much free time to go source hunting for a tumblr bsd theory...)

we also have a few example of entrance exams that we can use as a reference: namely atsushi's, kyouka's, and dazai's. from these, we can synthesize a few defining characteristics of entrance exams.

(i made a table because i'm a pretty visual person, and this is a good way for me to organize information!!! this is essentially an adapted affinity map for my fellow nerds out there)

some key elements of entrance exams administered by the ADA include:

a perceived (real or fake) threat: in atsushi's case, this was the "bomber"; in kyouka's case, the moby dick; in dazai's case, whoever was responsible for the disappearance and subsequent murder of the yokohama visitors.

the threat's victims involve civilians/innocent people: for atsushi, the terrorist had naomi as a hostage; in kyouka's case, the entirety of yokohama was in danger; in dazai's case, the kidnapping/murder victims were all civilians.

the ADA candidate MUST (is pushed/forced/pressured/required to) play a major role in the resolution of the threat: atsushi must neutralize the bomber; kyouka is the only one who can stop the moby dick; dazai plays a very large role in stopping the azure messenger.

(optional) sacrifice: atsushi jumped on a bomb; kyouka crashed her plane.

(optional) a way to ensure the candidate's safety: for atsushi, the fact that it wasn't a real bomb; for kyouka, fukuzawa's ability and demon snow.

the ADA candidate is kept in the dark: atsushi was NOT told they were completing an entrance exam, or that the ADA even had such a tradition. kyouka knew she was doing an entrance exam, but wasn't ever fully explained the stakes; i.e. nobody told her that after passing she would be able to free herself and control demon snow.

the entrance exam is administered by a more senior member: dazai or kunikida, with the approval of fukuzawa.

now consider if dazai were administering an entrance exam for sigma during the mersault prison break. let's see if the key elements are present:

the threat: fyodor

the victims: the entire world

the candidate's pivotal role: sigma must touch fyodor to learn fyodor's ability

the sacrifice: sigma risks his life and touches fyodor, despite having been told that fyodor's ability might also work through touch, i.e. he risks dying

the failsafe: n/a, as far as we know currently (i can see an argument for chuuya but i personally find that's a bit of a stretch)

the secret: sigma has not been told that this is an entrance exam (neither has the audience)

the examinator: dazai

pretty neat. at least, no inconsistencies - and, considering the bigger picture, it makes sense.

a lot of things in the mersault arc also make sense under this interpretation. why did dazai pick sigma instead of a more "useful" escape tool? for recruitment. why did dazai promise and insist upon saving sigma? for recruitment. why did dazai shove sigma off the elevator even though he knew chuuya would break their fall and they weren't going to die? for recruitment.

it feels like a much better ending for sigma than just being... dead.

screenshot compilation

conclusion

you're so right.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #bsd #bsd theory #bungou stray dogs analysis #bungou stray dogs sigma #bsd spoilers #bsd season 5

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staytinyville · 6 months

Text

OUTLAW (44)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). This chapter is short because it's a filler one. Next couple of one might be as well.

All the boys in the camp turned their heads the moment you came stomping in with Yunho behind you. They raised their brows at each other when they saw the scolding look on your face, wondering if it would be a smart idea to ask what was going on.

“Hey, Darling. Where were y'all?” San was the one who had the courage to ask.

“Hendrick has my dad in prison.” You sighed, shoulder dropping as all the tension left your body the moment you saw all the boys.

“Why?” Mingi asked.

“They are accusing him of being the one to take the money from city hall. They're also thinking we were the ones who did it.” Yunho explained to them, crossing his arms.

“They're going to come looking for us again?” Wooyoung questioned, looking around.

They knew it was best to leave town for a bit and go into hiding. However, that was before they thought about sending a manhunt for specific people. Things would change if that was the case for the group.

No matter how many times you were able to break someone out of prison, you would still be coming back to help the people of the town. Even if you did take the money this time, who’s to say that Klein wouldn’t just raise the taxes again to collect the money back? Quaid was still going to be there whispering things into the mayor’s ear.

“No.” You spoke up, looking at them all with your head raised. “We'll go to them.” You said

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you oddly.

“It doesn't matter if we take the money and give it back.” You explained. “So long as Quaid is here he'll keep taking the money. He's the one who brought in Sciencslaver. We have to cut the weeds from the roots.”

“Princess is right.” Hongjoong spoke up, coming out from the main tent.

“Captain it won't matter if we don't stop Strickland.” Jongho told him. “They'll just keep sending more goons.”

“Then we have a while to plan for our next heist.” Hongjoong grinned at his members. “For now we can save this town from them.”

“We've done this before. It's nothing new. You all already know how it goes.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“What did we get from the homes?” Yunho asked.

“From Quaid's house we found letters to Z.” Yeosang explained. “They talk about how stupid the mayor here is and how easy it was to manipulate them. He also has some letters between Hendricks. The sheriff knows about Strickland.” He added.

“How can we get them both out then?” Seonghwa asked. “Klein has nothing to do with it obviously.”

“We should go to him first and reveal everything.” You spoke up.

“You think he'll listen?” San raised a brow.

“He's an idiot as Quaid says.” You pursed your lips. “I don't think it'll be hard to make him see what he's been doing.”

“How do we get Hendricks to resign?” Wooyoung questioned.

Your lips twitched at the mention of that man. For as long as you could remember you never really had any bad blood with him. Only had the chance to watch him from afar during church hours and the likes. You never really paid attention to the way he did his job. You didn’t bother to get involved with those kinds of affairs obviously.

You did hear gossip rumors from the saloon’s patrons though. How they heard that the sheriff would take bribes to keep from giving the rich tickets or taking their taxes. It wasn’t your business–not until he came to arrest you for someone mistaking you as a criminal.

And maybe you were one now, but it was for a good cause. Back then you were saving that girl, and she understood what you did at that point. She understood what it was like to be in that position with nothing else to do. She had been thankful you were there to save her but she regretted saying anything with how the sheriff seemed to have twisted her words. It wasn’t her fault but you knew there was something wrong with Hendricks that day.

“We will have to ask Klein for help. I'm sure he has dirt on the man.” You answered.

“I never trusted him.” Jongho sneered.

“No one did.” Yeosang retorted.

“We have to move now.” Hongjoong got up, getting his gun ready. “I'm positive Quaid has caught on and will be skipping town soon. Have to catch him before he can leave.” He locks his pistol into place, giving all of you a glance.

“Doll, you're gonna need to keep your family safe.” Mingi mentioned. “If they have your dad in custody they'll probably try to get them to tell them things. Bring them here for now.” He told you.

You suddenly remember how your father told you to take care of them. To run from the town with the boys and your family. But you couldn’t just leave him behind when he wasn’t the one who did it. It had been you and your family was caught up in your problems.

The boys knew what it was like to feel guilty for dragging others down into your own problems. They had brought so many people down in their mistakes–caused some to lose things that meant so much to them–but in the end they knew good things had come from them. They understood that in order to make things right there were going to be something that would go wrong. It was for the greater good, they would tell themselves.

But in this moment they had the chance of saving your family and keeping them from getting hurt. It was best to do what they could to keep you from feeling worse than you already did. You meant a lot to them and they would rather loose than see you upset over something that happened in their watch.

“Okay.” You sighed.

“We'll keep them safe.” Hongjoong walked up to you, bringing your head forward to place your forehead against his. “You have my word.”

“It's not them I'm worried about.” You whispered, pulling back to look Hongjoong in the eye.

“Like I said. We've done this a bunch of times. We know how things go now.” The captain grinned.

You trusted them wholeheartedly, to the point that you were sure if they asked you to do something you would. You knew your family was more than safe in their care. Even if they were going to be with you the whole time, you were sure they would keep your family in a place where no harm would come to them. Not on their watch.

You didn’t know what they had planned up their sleeves–you honestly didn’t even know what you were going to do. But you knew that you had one thing on your mind and that was to take your father out of prison. And to do that you had to get to Hendricks first. Your anger towards him was what fueled your passion to reach what you needed.

And you were more than ready with the boys standing behind you.

“Let's go.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hello!! I thought I'd go ahead and send in a 2nd request since you offered. :)

How about something with Alpha 17 x F!reader. And maybe angst (with a happy ending though?)

Like beginning with Narcissus (unrequited love) but then ending up with Coriander (lust.) You can pick which direction you'd like it to go...whether it's Alpha pining for her and then they end up together or her that pines for him and then they end up together. And if the "end up together" could be a little NSFW? (However NSFW you are feeling, any level is cool with me.)

If you aren't feeling this, ANYTHING with Alpha 17 would be wonderful!

Thanks!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Burning Hot

Summary: You work at the facility where Alpha-17 has been a prisoner for months now, and you're totally smitten with him. But you know that he'll never feel the same.

Pairing: Demon!Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1554

Warning: Spicy - no actual smut, but Alpha is Alpha

Prompts: Narcissus - Unrequited love, Coriander - Lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been having a hard time with Alpha for some reason, but then I had this idea! Yay me! But I couldn't make the NSFW work with me and I don't know why.

You watch him from behind the safety glass. A frown crosses your lips as you monitor his vitals, a frown that deepens as you notice that his core temperature is higher than ever before. High enough that, if he had the use of all of his powers, he’d be able to melt the safety glass and get to the Doctors.

Not that you’d blame him.

Almost a year ago now, scientists traveled to a planet that was long thought uninhabited. Only to learn that they were wrong. The planet is home to a race of people that you can only call demonic.

Demonic because of their tails. And their golden eyes. And the fact that they can create and manipulate fire and heat.

And Alpha-17, the man on the other side of the glass, was the first demon that the scientists came in contact with.

How they managed to capture him is beyond you, you are just an intern after all, but somehow they did, and he’s been a guest at this facility since then.

Of course, the majority of the care for Alpha has fallen on your shoulders. You tend to his injuries, make sure that he has clean clothes, and feed him three times a day. While you were intimidated at first, he’s so much bigger than you, after all, over time you’ve come to appreciate his presence.

He’s rough and sarcastic and can be horrifically mean when he’s pushed, but he’s never been mean to you. And, much to your surprise, and shame, you’ve found yourself pining over him.

You wonder how his hands would feel against your skin, how his lips would feel against yours, how it would feel to lay against him in bed-

And it is embarrassing. Because Alpha would never look at you like that. For all that you have no choice but to be here, you’re still one of the people holding him here. Keeping him from his family.

Plus, for all you know, he already has a life partner. It’s not like you ever asked…and it isn’t as though he would tell you one way or the other.

“Time,” You say, your voice quiet and dispassionate, “That’s one hour, Doctor.”

The older man that you were interned under glances at you, and then at your readings, “Good thing he can’t actually use those powers to hurt us, huh.” He jokes, before he presses a series of buttons on the console, powering down the training simulation.

You watch as Alpha is escorted back to his cell by a group of droids, and then you flicker your gaze back to the datapad, “It’s only a matter of time before he breaks the suppression collar, Doctor. Perhaps it’s best to quit while we’re ahead?”

He laughs, “He’s a brute, but he’s an easily controlled brute.” The Doctor dismisses your concerns, “Anyway, I have been ordered to take the weekend off, apparently I work too much.”

“You do work too much.” You say dryly.

He sniffs, “I work a reasonable amount.”

“You worked 100 hours last week. I know, because I worked 100 hours last week.”

“...Anyway! I’m going to spend the next week with my wife and children.” He rolls his eyes, “So you’ll be holding down the fort on your own. Well. You and the droids.”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. Good.” He awkwardly pats your shoulder and then heads out of the room, “No need for any tests while I’m gone, just keep him alive.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He leaves the facility while you’re giving the janitorial droids their orders for making sure the training room is clean and in working order.

Then, and only then, do you strip off the stark white jacket that you wear while working, and head down the hall to the holding cells where Alpha lives. His cell is more of a room, due solely to your actions. You’ve given him blankets to act as makeshift walls, and extra blankets and pillows to make the bed more comfortable.

The Doctor hadn’t been thrilled about it. But he didn’t take them away from Alpha either.

“Knock, knock.” You call as you enter the hallway, “I have the first aid kit, Alpha.”

The blankets are swept away from the door, allowing you to peer into his cell. He’s clad in the bottoms of his training outfit and nothing else, and you forcefully shove down the surge of attraction.

“Can I come in?” You ask with a small smile.

He glances at you, “Yeah, go ahead.”

You wave your key card over the lock, and key in the code that will allow you to come and go as you please, and then pull the door open. You step into the cell, and the door slides shut behind you, but you don’t mind.

You set the first aid kit on the small table you found for him months ago, “Well, you don’t look badly injured.” You note as he turns towards you, “Some of those hits looked bad-”

“So you were watching today?” Alpha asks, as he sinks down on the bed.

“I always watch.” You reply lightly, “The Doctor insists.”

Alpha scoffs, “Of course he does.”

“I am his intern.” You remind him, “Now, let me get a look at you.” You take a step closer to him, already taking in the rapidly healing bruises. “Healing already.” You murmur, “Honestly, it’s like you don’t even need me.” You add jokingly.

Alpha’s tail lightly twines around your wrist and tugs you close enough that you’re able to feel his body heat, “Don’t be silly. I’d have gone mad without you here.”

You know that Alpha has total control over his tail. He’s told you as much before. He likes wrapping his tail around you when you’re treating his injuries.

It’s comforting, in a way.

It’s also the closest you know you’re ever going to get to him actually touching you.

“So,” Alpha says as you start applying bacta to his chest, “Where’s the good doctor anyway. Usually he comes down here to gloat about me not escaping yet.”

“Oh…well…” You pull back to grab another bandage, “He’s not here. Mandatory vacation.”

“...you don’t say.” Alpha murmurs. “You’re still here.”

“Intern.” You remind him dryly.

“Right.” Alpha’s tail releases you, and you’re surprised when the cell suddenly gets darker. You glance over your shoulder and note that he’s releasing the curtains that block the light from the hall.

You shoot him a bemused look, “You might be able to see in the dark, Alpha, but I can’t.” You remind him.

“I’m not that badly injured.” He replies. “Besides, I thought we’d use this moment to talk.”

“We are talking.”

You start to adjust to the dim light, and you’re surprised to see his small smirk, “I want to talk to you about your obvious attraction to me.”

And your face burns, “Uh…um…I don’t-”

His hand, large and warm, lightly caresses your cheek, “Don’t lie to me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice, my sweet girl?”

Your face heats even more, “It’s…not right.” You mumble, “I’m holding you here against your will.”

“You’re as much a prisoner here as I am,” Alpha replies, as he slowly pulls you closer.

“That’s not-”

“It is.” One more sharp tug pulls you onto his lap, and his lips find purchase against your throat, “Mine.” He purrs against your skin, “My pretty girl.”

“A-Alpha-”

He pulls back and crashes his lips against yours, sharply nipping your lower lip, before soothing the sore spot with his tongue. “Take my collar off, pretty girl.”

You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t.

But his hands are sliding under your shirt, pushing your shirt up and out of the way, and his lips are back against your throat, nipping and sucking marks onto your tender skin, and before you really think about it, your fingers are sliding around the collar, releasing locks and undoing latches, until the collar comes off in your hands.

There’s a surge of heat around you, and then Alpha grabs the collar from your hands and tosses it to the side. “Good girl,” He purrs, catching your lips in a deep kiss.

His hands are everywhere, tugging your clothes either completely off or just to the side, and you’re not really surprised when he flips you so that you’re under him.

You blink up at him hazily, and he chuckles, “Is this what you wanted?” Alpha asks, as he presses his body against yours, “What you needed more than anything?”

You whine quietly, “Yes…please…”

“Pretty girl. My perfect girl.” Alpha kisses you again and again, “I’m going to ruin you.” He breathes against your lips.

You laugh softly, and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, “Yes, please.”

He slots himself between your legs, his fingers dipping between your thighs to slide against your slit pulling a moan from you, “And then,” Alpha murmurs, “We’re going to leave this place and return to my home, and I’m going to make you all mine.”

“Am I not already all yours?” You ask breathlessly.

He chuckles against your lips, “I’m going to make you more mine. My pretty girl.” His golden eyes glimmer with want and need.

“Yours,” You agree, slightly breathlessly.

And then Alpha crashes his lips against yours and more talking is useless.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #alpha-17 x reader #18+ fic #clone thirsting #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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powderblueblood · 5 months

Note

🎵+ our girl lacy hehe

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ MAKING THE BED - OLIVIA RODRIGO

and i'm playin the victim so well in my head, but it's me who's been making the bed or lacy visits her dad in prison and reflects on the life she's created*

*as part of the hellfire & ice universe

warnings for mentions of past parental abuse, incarcerated parent, slight drug mention, cussin up a storm as always

also the amount of time this has spent buried in my drafts! it's not right! but it is okay i hope thank you love you anon <3

You had been putting this off for as long as was excusable to put it off-- as long as you could push it, you'd push it. Busy with school, with work now since your gig at The Bookstore had started (which he'd hate), with your... friends (which he'd hate even more, if he knew exactly who that company included).

But eventually, you do just have to bite the bullet and pick up the phone.

The bullet tastes rancid and the visitation room is always freezing. Doesn't matter if you wear your warmest coat--the mink that he bought you, that still smells of smoke from a garbage can at Roane Quarry--you're still practically vibrating by the time you sit down.

"You always ran so cold, baby girl."

Your father smiles at you through the glass. His eyes are wrinkled at the edges, kind of tired. They've got him behind there like a caged animal. Like you're supposed to tap on the glass of his enclosure and see if he'll respond with glee or fury. He's docile today. It's a change; the last couple of times you'd accompanied your mom here, he'd been seething.

"I think it's an iron thing," you muse vacantly, winching your shoulders in.

"Should eat some red meat."

"There's been a concerning lack of filet mignon in my life lately."

That makes him chuckle and that makes you smile. The orange jumpsuit reflects badly against his skin, extra harsh under the burn of overhead fluorescents. Makes you both look sickly; worse than you are. Misery loves company. There's no way you can tell him that you're actually...

"So how are you doing?" He asks you this question and there's a weight attached to it. He must know, right, he must have figured the shitstorm of trouble that you'd been in for in the aftermath of his arrest. The blowback on you. On your mom, who you were white-knuckling yourself into having pity for.

Your lips purse, tugging to the side. Again, no clue how to answer a question like that. Is he expecting game face? Is he expecting... honesty? You can't read it. So you shrug. "You know."

"I don't, Lacy. That's why I asked."

He has a terrible stare, your dad, the kind you can never get out from under. The kind that makes you feel like you're being constantly watched. In the walls, this guy. As if he knows everything already.

"Well, ah-- school is fine, I'm doing about the same as always," you try to smile as casually as possible, "An even keel of greatness, as you used to say, and extracurriculars are... yeah. I, um," and you attempt a throat-clear, "I dropped cheerleading."

Your father pinches his chin between his pointer and his index as you speak, scratching at the side of his face. Contemplative. The smoothness of this expression doesn't break as you drop that on him.

"Why would you do that."

Your toes curl up in your shoes, ten little ice blocks you're begging to thaw out. Your pulse quickens with such a rapid pace that you feel it in your skull. So, you try and answer like he might.

"Conflict of interest."

"Conflict being?"

"Tina and I came to an impasse."

"Pass it." His laconic brilliance outshines yours.

Your throat tightens. "Why?"

This makes his expression falter, his hand drop from his face. There's a weird rush of satisfaction in that, seeing a crack in the facade--but then you have to deal with what leaks out of the crack in the facade.

"What do you mean, why? Because. This is who you are. This is what you've worked for."

Sshrrk, slicing right through the prime rib of you. He doesn't even need to hear you out, because he knows you, he created you.

He saw you attempting to alter and distort yourself in order to be something perfect and said, good.

Necessity is the mother of invention. Take their standards and make it look like you could maintain them in your sleep, bleeding, blindfolded. Be better, and make it look beautiful. Make them love you, then make them fear you.

And if it doesn't fit, shave parts off of yourself until it does.

You doubt that your uniform would even fit anymore.

Your teeth grit so hard that your jaw starts to ache. "I just don't understand why I should--"

"Why are you letting them win?" he asks.

"I'm not," you insist and it turns your stomach, "I'm not letting them win, it's just-- Daddy, you don't know what it's been like out here for--"

"Of course I do. I bet they're saying horrendous, gut-punching things about me, about what I've done, about you-- but what makes you think that freezing them out is the answer?"

You choose not to mention that you'd actually thrown a Molotov cocktail at them the night of Steve Harrington's party. Reason being?

"Self preservation."

"Your fragile ego can't take it?"

"I'm not fragile."

"No, god, you're solid as a rock. At the first sign of trouble, you turn heel, you quit."

"Dad, that isn't fair."

"This life isn't fair. And frankly, Lacy, I don't have faith in your capability to make it on your own."

Something about the way he uses your nickname makes it feel like it's tied too tight around you.

"You're scholastically intelligent, sure, but you're a shell. You have no inner structure. If you don't pack yourself full of something, whether it's pom-poms or prom invitations or fucking diet pills to keep you pretty, you will fall in on yourself." A pause. "You're not a well-rounded person. But it doesn't matter, not if you can make people believe that you are."

"Is that what you did?" Your voice is nearly slurred. When your father wants to cut you down to size, it's the one time that sound moves faster than light-- and it makes your head spin.

"Yes."

"Worked out pretty spectacularly for you, Daddy." It knocks out words you ordinarily wouldn't say.

"You're the child. You're supposed to learn from my mistakes."

"Can I count them on one hand?" Sometimes he'd knock you back for it. But this time there was a sheen of bulletproof glass between you.

"Lacy."

"Is doing yourself up like Saint Jude Thaddeus and siphoning money out of made up charities one of them?" You wonder if he could crack it. Use that handset as a hammer and gather his might and crack it.

"Lacy."

"Is Al Munson another one?" That one lingers between you a moment. "He's a two-bit do nothing deadbeat lowlife that's never come clean out of a job, straight or otherwise. Or so I've heard. People talk. He's like a folk hero now. Does it embarrass you that trusting him was all it took to topple everything?"

A beat. The sense memory of his hand cracking against your cheek is so visceral.

"Does it embarrass you that your charm offensive wasn't offensive enough to fool someone as surface level as him?"

A beat. The feeling of letting him have it, as they say, is all the more real.

"Does it embarrass you that you should've known better?"

A beat. You feel like you've just done a bump of something very dirty. Something somebody would sell out of a tin lunchbox. Immediate headrush.

"You got sloppy trying to fill that gaping maw inside you. And what do you have now?"

"What do you have, Lacy?"

And the descent of fear.

You open your mouth to answer, but decide y'know what. You hang up the headset, and leave him there.

Bussing it back to Forest Hills, your blood slowly starts to recirculate in your veins. With that, second guessing starts to flood in. Should you have said that. Were you right. Did any of it get through. Were you cruel. Did he read you.

Coat shrugged around you, you discover Eddie sitting at the picnic bench on your lot. Handful of pebbles in one hand, old SpaghettiO can in clear sight. A flash of pink presses out of the corner of his lips in sheer concentration-- you watch him miss three shots before you call to him.

"Knew you were flukey."

Eddie's head cranes over his shoulder and he grins a grin so loud and lively that it puts color back in your cheeks. They apple up; you're smiling too.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You cross to the bench, propping yourself up on the table beside him. He keens into you, bumping his head against your fuzzy elbow like a happy cat. Playfully, you nudge him away, but he's relentless.

"Prison. Where the hell do you think?"

Eddie hits pause, stares up at you with eyes brimming with shit, dude and fuck, dude. "Oh. Did it suck?"

You start to shrug it off, to completely glaze over it like the donut of daddy issues you'll force yourself to swallow later. But then you take a second look at him, his big eyes yelling you can tell me, y'know.

"It was fucking awful. Like, horrible."

His spine bolts up a bit. "You okay?"

This one you roll around your head a bit. "Right now, yeah. Maybe it'll hit me later."

"Okay. So worry about it later." Eddie's nonchalance when it comes to dad talk is reassuring. To you, he's a zen master when it comes to disengaging with the goading nature of toxic fathers.

"Worry about it later!" you echo brightly.

"I'll stick around in case, for later." He's a good friend. And your stomach sort of flips.

"Take me to the movies?" An afternoon in the warm dark sounds good.

"Fuck you, what if I had plans?" Eddie pushes back only because it'd be weirder if he didn't.

"You don't," you say, pushing back too, "Unless aiming rocks into that soup can is a prelude to something much more spectacular."

"Maybe it is. Maybe I'm finally trying out for basketball." He misses another shot.

"At the eleventh hour." It's a little transfixing, watching him aim and score. Moreso than when she ever stood on any basketball sidelines. "Why are you so bad at this. You're usually kind of good at this."

"These rocks are too small!" he exclaims, animatedly frustrated. Another one, making a sharp ting! off the can's jagged rim. "But seriously. I got banned from the trailer for playin' my gee-tar too loud while Wayne was sleepin'."

Because vaudeville was always one of your fascinations, you mimic your shittiest Southern accent in tribute to his uncle, "Goddamn, boy, ain't nobody teach you any manners?!"

"Was you brought up or dragged?!" His is so much better than yours.

You chuckle. He chuckles. There's a moment, the two of you looking at each other with the softness of two people with nothing but dumb bits and dangerous families. What ludicrous kinds of lives you lead.

"So, movies?" Eddie says, like it's his idea. You let him have it. It's nice to share.

"We'll always have the movies."

#powder room talk #Anonymous #hai brainrot #i genuinely DON'T know what else to tag this as but tentatively #eddie munson x reader #even though. look. it's lacy family issues centric #do i love it? not really. am i glad i wrote it? absolutely #anon thank you again for sending this in i'm very pleased that you're into this and that you fuck with this hope you're still here #i know this has been in drafts Furever #published by powder #blurbs #l. doevski by powder

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beplinkclick · 9 months

Note

yooo happy birthday :>> , about the request, could I get headcanons of the eddsworld boys with a chaotic goth reader? like, reader wears goth clothes, likes to get in trouble and play pranks on people, but they can also be pretty chill and calm

that was the coolest idea I could get from my brain, take your time btw and happy birthday again

Eddsworld Boys with a Goth reader

🥓Edd

Edd it's just chill with that.

I mean, the only wired thing he finds wired it's the make up. He thinks it's creepy sometimes.

He loves that you're a calm person because he's really tired of his loud friends even know he's a energetic one himself.

You like to play pranks on people? WELL BE READY, CUZ THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IT'S READY TO PRANK EVERY PERSON ON THE PLANET!!!!

He hates when you get in trouble. At some point he will walk with you almost everywhere just to make sure you don't do something stupid.

He also ask you more about your styling just to make sure what he will buy you as a gift 📦

🎸Tom

He likes you're still

He doesn't really mind what you wear or how you act as long as you don't make him uncomfortable

You want to paint his nails in black or anything else? Well to late he always has his nails painted in black:)

You're a troublemaker? Well he is to but don't you think he will get you out of the prison because you and him for sure will share a cell for your crimes

He absolutely love when you're out of your chaotic part, he can finally chill with you by singing, watching movies, sleeping etc.

Maybe if he's in a good mood you can go at him with some outfits and he will give his opinion in what will suit you but he doesn't mind if you don't like his choose[actually he will but he just deny it]

🔫Tord

This man when he will see your still he will for sure make a pervet thing but if he's out of the pervet mod he will just compliment your look

If you wear make up he will ask you at least one time to make him up because he's curious how he will look

If you like to do pranks, he will not help you but he will laugh at them. He hates sometimes when is the victim

If you will get in trouble he will be like "One real troublemaker, are you kid?"

He's the opposite of Tom, he won't get into trouble too often but if he did he wouldn't get caught by anyone and he'll make sure you won't be in any danger either

If you were arrested by absurdity, he will help you 100% to escape without a trace

He's a busy man but he will always appreciate the little calm and chill moments he has with you:)

💫Matt

I don't think he's a big fan but if you ask for help he can't say no!

At first when he meets you, it's freaked out but when he realised that you're a chill person he thinks you're nice and start to get along with you more

He's a sensitive person so don't do pranks on the poor boy, he don't like pranks

He's always looking at his mirror like 24/8 and he don't do to much trouble. But when he dose you can make yourself sure that both of you will try to get out of the situation ending up making it worse

♡There you go! I hope I did it right, I'm not really into this thing about goth so I didn't really know what to write.

☆I'm also really sorry about the bad grammar!!!

♤And thanks for the request!!!

#headcanon stuff #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld headcanons #eddsworld #requested #ask and replies #ew tord #tord ew #eddsworld tom #edd eddsworld #eddsworld art

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Note

Ur good 🗞 anon I don't have a problem with it :))) also I'm sending u a red eye (drip coffee w a shot of Espresso in it) it is the fuel that keeps blue collar guys going

ALSO ALSO IM STILL FERAL OVER GENDERBENT 141 FUCK WOMENNNNNN

-🔪

I love how you 2 are having a love affair in my asks

speaking of Genderbent!141,

Let me use highjack this ask to cook up something good:

Genderbent!Los Vaqueros (and everyone else).

(this is especially for @lyralein and their promise to draw me Alejandra and Rosario)

Alejandra Vargas has the longest, prettiest hair for someone who spends their time with it TIED IN A DAMN HIGH PONYTAIL???? She 100% wears SOOOO much hair gel to keep it slick and from having flyaways while in the field but that means it exposes her widow's peak and big ass fivehead. She's very used to being underestimated (just like Jane Price) but she has natural scary dog privilege and even her smirks and smiles look evil, so her subordinates Know Better™️. Also, she's tall as all hell, just like Simone. Fuck you mean she's 5ft10???? She serves cunt everywhere she goes when off-duty.

Rosario "Rosa" Parra has a curly bob and has the longest prettiest eyelashes. Does it pass regulation? No. But are you gonna go tell the Colonel's best friend to fix her hair, cut it? No. Exactly. Now get out of her face before SgtMj Parra makes you run drills. She and Alejandra have MATCHING tattoos that they got after the betrayal of their teammates who were on the cartel's payroll (like Valerio Garza). I'm entirely convinced her and Alejandra have gossip sessions over coffee when doing paperwork.

Valerio Garza is 100% such a fucking papi chulo. You know it, I know it. Man's got the most beautiful brown eyes, thickest brows, and the nastiest little smug smirk on his lips at all times. Has a shaggy little hairstyle that just makes him look like SUCH a fuckboy and a 5 o'clock shadow. Man's tall as all hell and I just KNOW he's got a fucking scorpion tattooed in his forearm. Just trust me on this.

Patricia Graves (yes I know Philipa exists but I don't like it for him bc it's not 'common' the way 'Philip' is common for men) is such a fucking bitch. I'm sorry, but she is. (to me, Philip's actions just become even more inexcusable when she's a woman like????) Anyways. Has the sleekest light brown hair but she gets it lightened to blonde because she can. Who's gonna stop her? Wears her hair cut into a lob (long bob) and unironically loves cowboy boots when she's out of uniform.

Alexa Keller is ready to fuck shit up at a moment's notice. Give her a time and a place and she WILL show up, drop some bodies, and leave without a word. Tall and strong, but not as beefy as Soap. Especially top-heavy. I'm convinced she binds her chest with bandages in order to fasten her vest on properly. Has a layered bob and carries bobby pins in her pack/pockets so she can keep pinning it back, on TOP of already carrying hair-ties around her wrists. At one point, Faris teaches her how to tie a scarf to keep it off her face.

Faris Karim is, I hate to say it, tall and on the skinny side. The ULF is a freedom fighting group and he's spent much time in prison, so, he's not as 'well developed' as many soldiers would be. Nonetheless, he's a good leader and makes up for his lesser build with determination. Has a beard that he cannot keep up with more often than not so he shaves it off when it gets too long, and keeps his hair in a combover or quiff.

Christopher "Chris" Laswell is, point blank, tall and slightly pudgy, used to being behind a desk, writing reports and fucking people up with words more than with fists. That being said, piss him off hard enough and he'll have you on your ass. Has an Ivy League cut with a side part and is either PERFECTLY clean-shaven or has the THICKEST beard you've ever seen. (I was gonna 'pick' a mustache only but then he'd look like Alex Keller too much)

Natasha is, I hate to say it, the most stereotypical Russian woman you've ever met... minus the blonde hair. She has the beautiful waves, she has the red lipstick and the heavy make-up, she has the expensive fur coats, and dresses and heels, and all the jewelry. Is it practical? No. But she's a CEO and a forced to be reckoned and there's nothing stopping her.

#asks #🗞️ anon #genderbent!cod #genderbent!141 #genderbent!los vaqueros

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not-a-space-alien · 23 days

Text

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 6B

Part 6 of the "B side" universe for AU4. You can check chapter 4B for clarification on what this means if you're lost.

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Transphobia, unsupportive family relations

***

The hug lasts for an absurdly long time, but they do have to pull away eventually. Liz gives Valen a soft clap on the back. "Whenever you wanna go home, I'll take you over to the border, just like you brought Jim to me. You just focus on resting up and healing, okay?"

Valen curls up in on himself, looking dejected. Go home? He can't just go home. Can he? He is still reeling from this whole experience--and it honestly feels like he'll never be safe again by himself. What does he even have to go back to? He didn't have much before he'd gotten taken, but now, five years later? He isn't even sure what home he'd have to go back to. He would have nothing.

But they had to feed him with their own blood. Of course they'd want him out of their hair as soon as possible. This was probably their polite way of saying they wanted him to leave, right? But they'd just been hugging him, had that just been polite, too?

Trying not to look too pathetic and sad, he picks up the notepad and writes Does it have to be today?

"Okay, first thing, it's not gonna be today no matter what, 'cause you're not healthy enough to get back on your own yet." Jim says. "Second, you don't have to do anything. We just kinda assumed you'd wanna go home. You can stay here with me for as long as you want. I'm happy to have you." He smiles.

Valen almost can't believe what he's hearing. For once he wants to stay, and that's allowed. He writes: Even though you have to feed me? Oh, maybe it'd been presumptuous to assume they'd keep feeding him, since 'feeding' isn't necessarily included in 'letting you stay here.' Too late, though, he'd already showed it to them.

"Of course. Whatever you need, Valen." Jim gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe you could visit out there to get blood packs. We got options."

"I'm gonna go finish working on the door." Liz gives Valen a little wave before going back to the basement entrance.

"I probably can't make it out here every day, but you can put me on the menu sometimes for sure." Laken says with a wink before going to join Liz.

Valen politely clasps his hands together in front of him and gives a little bow. That's something a person does, right? Instead of just cowering on the floor.

Jim interprets that as a thank you. "You're welcome. I take it you don't really have anyone waiting up at home then, but if you wanna make a phone call, I can like, read out stuff you write down to make it work if you wanna. You know you're not a prisoner here, right?" He thought that should be obvious, considering the door was open all night and Valen could have left at any time, but maybe it needs to be said. "You're- well, I'd like to think we're friends by this point."

Valen's lip wobbles. How had he so quickly gone from leech, parasite, lower than dirt to friend? He wants to hug Jim again, but Jim doesn't want hugs right now, so instead, he folds his legs under him and bows even lower than he had the first time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

"You're all good, buddy. None of this would be possible if you hadn't saved me in the first place. We'd both still be stuck in hell." Jim points out. He reaches a hand out to help Valen up and takes him back over to the couch to rest.

Honestly, the prospect of Valen staying excites Jim. He'd be a lot less paranoid about Kane coming back for him with Valen here, plus he gets lonely. And the thought of Valen going through the pain of recovery alone hurts his heart.

Valen sits on the couch and wraps himself up in the blanket there, watching Liz finish her work on the door curiously, but not bravely enough to go check it out.

Liz and Laken eventually finish, coming back out carrying a lot of silver. "Well, guess we'll be seeing you around then, Valen!" Liz calls happily.

Valen waves with both his hands. His face hurts if he tries to smile, but he hopes he's waving enthusiastically enough to get the point across.

They leave, and Jim puts the TV on to just hang out for a little. After about an hour, he asks, "Are you gonna... be okay? If I head into the kitchen for a bit to make food, you'll still, um, be okay when I get back?" You're not gonna off yourself, right?

It's been a while since Valen has felt this okay. He's fed, and people care about him, and no one is hurting him. Jim was right, everything did feel a lot better after he'd eaten. It no longer feels so insurmountably scary. He nods, and gives a thumbs-up, but then when Jim actually gets up to make lunch, he gets up and follows Jim into the kitchen.

Jim smiles when he notices Valen following him. He decides to make beans and rice, the meal he ate in Valen's house, for old times' sake. Except this time, it's actually good, because he has a stove this time. "Remember when you offered me a bunsen burner to cook with?" he asks with a laugh.

Valen had been excitedly rocking from foot to foot, but he stops when Jim says this. Jim thinks it's funny. That it's ridiculous. He vaguely remembers it. He'd remembered it better before he'd been tortured, because that had made everything before feel so distant, and blurred together. Is it bad that Valen did that? Jim doesn't seem angry, but he is laughing, like it'd been stupid. The hunters laughed at him for a lot of things. Being too weak, being helpless, being stupid, making mistakes. Jim wouldn't punish him for what he's talking about, would he? Jim's not going to punish him. He'd said that. It's just hard to feel that, instead of the constant, pounding anxiety that at any second the pain is going to start again.

He thinks Jim is probably just bringing up a funny memory, but the urge to always interpret things in the worst way possible is too strong. Jim can't possibly just be joking around with his friend, Valen doesn't have friends, only tormenters.

No, that's not right, Jim had said he was a friend.

It's too much, it's too much to decide. He quickly scribbles I'm sorry I won't do it again I'll be good and shows it to Jim, eyes firmly on the floor

Jim's smile turns sad as he reads the note. "Nah, I'm glad you did. It was considerate. It's a good memory."

He remembers when he first got back. He was so jumpy. He used to say stuff like that all the time, after years of Kane hitting him at best and beating him at worst for any show of defiance. "It'll get better. The I-gotta-be-good stuff. It's real bad at first 'cause it's all you've known for years. But you start to get used to being a person again, and it lessens. Never goes all the way away, but it gets good enough. Least in my experience."

Valen wants to make eye contact so, so badly. He hasn't looked Jim, his savior, in the face yet, not even once. But he has to be good. But Jim was just saying about that...

He writes May I look you in the eye?

"Yeah, of course. Look away." Jim had thought Valen was avoiding eye contact due to nerves, he didn't even consider that he might think he's not allowed.

Look away. Oh no, conflicting directions. He averts his eyes, looking away from Jim, whimpering, confused.

Jim is confused for a moment, then realizes his phrasing was bad. "Oh, uh, something-away means to do something. Like, you can look. Sorry, my bad."

Oh, right. Yes, yes of course. It seems so unfair that the humans can just speak willy nilly without even thinking about how they phrase things, when Valen has to parse each syllable for signs of danger.

No, he doesn't have to do that, that's the point.

Valen slowly works his eyes up Jim's body, stopping at his shoulders, hovering there. He forces them to go higher, just briefly flicking them up to Jim's eyes, then immediately letting them fall again. Okay, that's good, that's progress, he looked into Jim's eyes and nothing bad happened, he didn't get accused of trying to use persuasion, he didn't get thrown in the sun.

"There you go. Making progress." Jim spoons his lunch into a bowl. "You've got nice eyes. You don't need to look at the floor all the time." The bright red of Valen's eyes doesn't scare him like the eyes in his nightmares. There's no malicious intent in them.

Nice eyes, he has nice eyes, nice eyes?! He goes beet red, now avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and being overwhelmed, unable to figure out how to handle the compliment.

You've got nice eyes would have been a prelude to a hunter gouging them out in his old life, but that's far too brutal for Valen to even worry about Jim doing in his imagination.

He makes a choked sound and brings his hands to his face, hiding his reddened cheeks.

Jim tries not to laugh again, worried it might be taken the wrong way. "Sorry, didn't mean to fluster you or anything." He leans against the counter and starts eating.

Valen watches Jim eat with fascination, wondering why he isn't sitting at the table.

Valen thinks about what Jim had said earlier, about making a phone call. He doesn't want to call Priscus, but maybe talking to his parents would be nice. They're probably worried about him.

Valen waits patiently until Jim is finished eating, then holds his hand up to his head to pantomime a phone call.

"Yeah, I can help you make a phone call. Who am I calling and what do you wanna say?" Jim asks, leading Valen over to the phone.

Valen sits down primly next to the phone and writes out his parent's phone number and some instructions.

This is my parents' house.

My mother will probably answer.

Please tell her what happened and where I am. In very general terms. And that I'm alive and safe now.

"Gotcha. Um, I just wanna prepare you, if you've been missing for years and you can't talk to her, she might not believe me. You can always call her back after you can talk again." Jim tells him.

He picks up the phone and dials the number. "Hello? Is this Mrs., uh, Valen's mom?"

"Hm?" says a woman's voice. "Hello? You knew my daughter?"

"Yeah. Um, about that, I know this is gonna sound really hard to believe, but Valen's alive and here with me. Sh-she's recovering from a mouth injury and can't talk right now. Got captured by hunters and hurt a lot, but she's out and safe now. We're in human territory. Valen should be well enough to talk in a couple days, I bet." Jim takes the notepad and writes Not out to mom? while he talks.

Valen rolls his eyes in an exasperated way and writes I came out to her, she's just in denial.

"What?" Valen's mother says. "Oh my god, that sounds just like something she would do. Walk right on into human territory with her arms open to try and give the first human she sees a big old hug. She probably tried to talk nicely to the vampire hunters, I bet." Her voice is dripping with disdain. "She's such a bright girl, but her head is full of such.... unrealistic ideas. Wait...who are you, why are you in human territory? Are you a human hunter, do you work for the blood farms? You should know that she's married, understand?"

Valen groans and lets his head slump.

Jim is speechless for a few moments. "Is that seriously your reaction to learning your kid, who you thought was dead, is alive and finally safe after being locked up for years?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well," she says, suddenly sounding defensive, "she barely ever calls us, I was half convinced nobody could find her because she just finally ran off or something. I don't hear from her for years at a time anyway. Of course I was worried for her, but I've always advised against this reckless behavior precisely because of this. Tell her she's welcome to come home, of course, although she really should simply go back to her husband."

Valen looks so, so tired, resting his head on his hand. He's wondering why he thought this was a good idea

"I don't need to tell him because he can hear you. He's been listening this whole time. And you know what, you're a shitty mom. He deserves better. Valen, you got anything else you wanna say to her?" Jim asks, heated.

Valen shakes his head sadly.

"Who do you think you are?" she says. "I've never been anything but supportive!"

Valen mimes hanging up the phone.

Jim hangs the phone up without another word to her.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Valen. That's... wow." He shakes his head. "With family like that, who needs enemies, y'know?" Jim's eyes shine with tears. He's really upset about Valen being treated this way.

Valen gives a noncommittal shrug. In his mother's mind, not disowning him and not forbidding him to go to college like he wanted to is enough to classify herself as supportive. He taps the pencil, sighs heavily, and writes I'm not sure what I really expected.

"You said you might wanna stay? You've got a new family now, if you want." Jim wants to hug him, but he can't seem to make himself do it. He reaches a hand out and squeezes Valen's upper arm gently instead.For some reason, the phone call and getting put down by his mother has been very grounding. It's reminding him of who he was before. He's a person, who has a mother he can have a bad relationship with. He moves his hand on top of Jim's, squeezing it back, nodding. He's certainly not going back to his husband. The thought of being this vulnerable and scared around Priscus makes him shiver with dread. He would fall prey to Priscus's manipulation every time, he knows he would. And going back to his parents' wouldn't be much better. No, this feels like the safest place, against all odds.

***

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#whump #K+J #angst #whumpblr #hurt/comfort

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