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obae-me · 5 months

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The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

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eamour · 9 months

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manifestation rules

everybody has a different set of beliefs when it comes to manifesting, determining their journey. some believe that nothing unfavourable can manifest for them, some believe that they can get whatever they want even if they react to their outer reality, ... whatever you choose to believe in creates the basis for the way you go about manifesting your desires. therefore, it's always nice to make manifesting easier and more effortless by sticking to certain rules that can protect, guide and make you feel more at ease while manifesting a certain desire.

applying the rules

it's totally up to you: you can make all of these your new rules or just pick a few new ones that resonate with you the most. the way you make these rules "work" is by simply declaring that this is now your new way of manifesting! don't worry, you don't have to learn them all by heart but remind yourself of them in times of manifesting. it's the most affective when you don't overcomplicate it!

here are the rules

whatever i want, wants me more

everything conspires in my favour

i am the only creator in my reality

the world revolves around me

i’m the main character and always get my happy ending

i am destined to win and succeed

everything is rigged in my favour

i easily manifest

manifesting is very easy for me

it’s all in my command and under my control

i am in charge of pretty much everything

there’s only one operant power and that’s me

i always get everything i want in my life

i was made to rule both dimensions

everything always falls into place for me

it all perfectly works out for me

i never chase, i attract

everything i want is easily given to me

i have it all

i’m a master manifestor

i’m a pro at manifesting

whatever i desire is already mine

i’m the blueprint

i’m way too perfect not to have it all

all of my desires are meant for me

i effortlessly manifest the life of my dreams

everything is always about me

i am the prize, everything chases me

i decide what happens next

i am the god of my reality

i’m the master of my destiny

my desires are done deal

everything is mine for the taking

i have my desires simply because i say so

as the god of my reality, it is my right to have everything i want

i get everything i desire since everything i say, goes

life is a game and i keep winning

i never fail to get what i want

it’s impossible for me to fail

not getting what i wish for isn’t possible

“failure” doesn’t exist in my life

others might not succeed but that doesn't go for me

i manifest quickly, effortlessly and instantly

my desires materialise very fast

i always get whatever i want whenever i want it

everything i want is being handed to me instantly

whatever i desire is mine in the very moment

i get whatever i want as soon as possible

i manifest regardless of everything and anything

there is no such thing as “impossible”, “illogical” or “unlikely” to manifest

circumstances don’t matter

the outside world doesn't affect me in any way

nothing can hinder my manifestation process

i cannot not get my desire

no one can stop me from attaining the life i want

the 3D immediately conforms

everything always works out perfectly for me

i am limitless

my abilities are infinite

anything is totally malleable

i can change reality to my liking

the world only shows me what i wish to see

i mould my own world

in imagination, i have it all

regardless of any circumstances, i get whatever i like

intrusive thoughts, doubts or worries cannot influence my manifestations

the 3D quickly reflects my desires

my outer world shows me my inner world

negativity doesn’t exist for me

i am protected from anything undesirable

unfavourable thoughts never manifest for me

with love, ella.

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 8 months

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It genuinely keeps me up at night that when Van Eck attempts to reveal to the Merchant Council that Wylan can’t read, they all react exactly as Wylan feared they would. (Spoilers ahead!) Of course since they don’t believe him and Wylan’s brilliant memory for Jesper’s words protects him we don’t see the full force of their response, but it is made PAINFULLY clear that they all would have responded the same way Van Eck did - “How could you say such things about your own blood?”. It’s an incredibly meaningful and arguably subtle detail that Bardugo implements to remind the reader that although Van Eck was our main antagonist in this case, there is no singular villain in this story because what the characters are fighting is an ultimately unbeatable source. The system is impossible to truly defeat because it is a hydra, we see that when Dryden’s father died he took on the role of the Council and acted the exact same way he did, and if Van Eck had raised Wylan to one day take over from him then he too would have been forcibly moulded into that shape by the poisonous environment of this governing body. The defeat of Van Eck, had Kaz not amended his will to name Wylan his inheritor, would have been only that: the downfall of a singular man, to be easily replaced by another with the same dangerously capitalistic values and crude methods of implementing them. It would not have been any change in the system that oppresses the main characters - I think it’s kind of similar to the Hunger Games (spoilers ahead) when Katniss chooses to kill Coin instead of Snow because she realises that killing Snow doesn’t actually change the system if someone else will simply step into his shoes. We also see this reflected in Kaz and his mission to destroy Rollins, since by doing so he too has taken the actions Rollins did. When Inej points out their similarities he denies it, saying “I don’t sell girls, I don’t con helpless kids out of their money”. Inej replies with the gentle, HEARTBREAKING sentence: “Look at the floor of the Crow Club, Kaz”. And this is so important because Kaz has no consideration for what happens to those people once they step outside his door. How do they fair after he scams them? How many of them have had no other money to fall back on? Did one of them sell their daughter to be able to pay off their debts to him? He’d never know, he just had the money and that’s all he thinks about. But if that girl survived long enough to want revenge, who would she blame? Say she didn’t want to blame her parents, like Kaz doesn’t want to blame Jordie, then who becomes the manifestation of all her hatred, the one thing she has decided that destroying will cure her? Kaz does. Just as Rollins has for him.

Every system of this city is a hydra, and there are so many beautifully written reminders of this without forcing it down our throats, but there is also the hope of genuine, real change. In Wylan, joining the Merchant Council as someone opposed to its views, as someone who has lived in both sides of this city and been abused by both of them, as someone who understands that real change is hard to implement. In Inej, as she journeys against the system that abused her not for revenge, but for the protection of all the children who have been hurt and killed, of all the children being hurt and killed, and of all the children who would have been hurt and killed if she didn’t stop the slavers who sought them, as someone who knows that real change is action. In Jesper, as someone raised far from the suffocating closed-minded atmosphere of the Merchant Council and who can support Wylan through it, as someone who knows that striving for real change is messy and chaotic, but that it’s where he thrives. In Matthias, who died believing that the world could truly change, who died believing in Nina, believing in himself, and believing that his death was a necessary sacrifice to real change, even though he wanted it to be peaceful. In Nina, as someone who had learned that real change cannot always be won with violence, as someone who will learn to use her new power to restructure a civilisation, as someone who will spend the rest of her life striving for change because nothing could ever be worse than her beloved having died in vain. And in Kaz, in the small ways, in the fear of what he could become that will hold him back from becoming the next head of the hydra, in his love for Inej shifting his perception of the world, and in his slow journey of healing, maybe one day killing Rollins will be enough. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll burn the world down and start it all again.

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aaagustd · 25 days

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room for two | jjk: prologue

a series from the "Misfit Parents Collection"

⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon

title: room for two

pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader

genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+

summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way.

Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything

release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est

note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3

One year ago.

The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure.

Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs.

His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze.

When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.

If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert.

Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.

Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public.

Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.

Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position.

Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.

Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.

Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see.

Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.

"Coward!"

He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.

Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.

With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.

So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he.

A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.

He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days.

Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.

Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.

He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers.

He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.

Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.

He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.

Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.

He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar.

Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.

The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.

"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.

With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink.

While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.

Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…

His assistant?

The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.

6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?

He doesn't have to.

Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there.

He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.

Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable.

Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.

7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few

After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.

"Tab or no?"

"No, love. That's it for me.."

He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.

"Keep what's left," he insists.

She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.

As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.

"What the—"

"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.

She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.

"She's trying, but…"

Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.

"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"

She declines.

"It's on me, sweetheart."

Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.

Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.

He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.

The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."

The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—

His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Once again, the number is unknown.

Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.

Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success.

"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"

He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.

"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh.

He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.

"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"

"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."

There's a pause.

There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.

"He's dead."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

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nixmori · 9 months

Text

Astarion x Wren

The Lovers Tarot: upright

A fun pass time for me is always thinking which tarot card fits the characters at different parts of the story, and the primary themes that govern them.

Wren (my primary Tav) is the reversed lovers card for much of her early story/game. She longs for connection but is met with a cold, detached world, resulting in mental imbalance and the absence of self-love. She’s lonely and insecure, fearing rejection. Her closest relationship up until the events of the game was with her patron—the capricious (but not malicious) Archfey Kol. He offered her power and the pretense of connection, but never anything real.

For Astarion, while I think another card represents himself (I’m keeping that to myself because I have another art planned around it!) I feel his struggle aligns well with the devil card. He is, of course, more than figuratively shackled to Cazador, but also to the years of abuse, trauma, and his own demons born of that time. The shackles depicted in that card are loose—showing they can be broken should the person choose to be free of their demons.

The lovers and the devil cards are mirrors of one another. The lovers shows security and balance, but also the temptation of the fruit and the snake that could lead to back down the road to self destruction. Alternatively, they are a reminder of what it took to come back from that to a harmonious state.

In my interpretation of The Lovers here, I’ve retained the shackles from Astarion’s devil card. He’s chosen a new path—one where he can be true to himself. The scars will always be there, but the chains are broken. I’ve retained the forbidden fruit as Wren’s crown, with the leaves too represent the personal growth of both characters while the berries (fruit) represent the temptations that would have lead them down a very different path (which I will leave out due to spoilers!)

Fun fact, the Angel in the original card art is Raphael! Very different from everyone’s favorite demon in the game. This Raphael represents physical and emotional healing. I didn’t think an Angel would fit the aesthetics of what I wanted so I replaced him with the moon and Polaris. The first reason has to do with Astarion’s spawn ending so I won’t go into it. The second is taken from the moon card itself, where the moon reveals one’s true self. Paired with Polaris, it represents the moon’s light as a guide, as both embark on their long journey of healing. It won’t be an overnight venture—something that can be fixed by a single entity, so the moon as a guide works better in this context, I believe.

As a personal addition, Wren holds a few nerine lilies—a flower that has been associated with freedom since Ancient Greece. They also symbolize unity, and feelings straight from the heart, which felt appropriate for a relationship where both characters started as strangers to emotional intimacy. (I used to be a florist, I HAVE to have my flower symbolism)

Finally, the clouds at the bottom started life as flames, which in the og tarot card represent passion. As the art took form though, they took on the appearance of smoke/clouds. I could have made it more flame-like but I really liked how this looked, but I also think it fits the slow burn the story ended up taking. There’s a fire, somewhere—but it isn’t the most important thing here.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading my essay. I hope it was coherent!

#artists on tumblr #fan art #nixmori’s art #baldurs gate iii #bg3 #nixmori #bg3 fanart #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #wren #Tav #astarion fanart #astarion x mc #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #tarot #character illustration

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flowerandblood · 1 month

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (25)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.

He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.

How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.

He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.

This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.

He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.

They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.

No, he thought.

He was no longer a small child.

He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.

He could not allow himself to be weak now.

He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.

The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.

What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?

What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?

Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.

How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?

To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?

He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.

As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.

"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.

His heart pounded harder.

You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.

"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.

"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.

"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.

"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.

Fuck.

He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.

What had that whore said to her?

"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.

His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.

"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.

That we should not return to Harrenhal.

That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.

She warned her.

Why?

He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.

The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.

That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.

He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.

She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.

"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.

That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.

He thought she would loathe him forever.

He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.

"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.

"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.

His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.

"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"

She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.

You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.

She was right.

She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.

It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.

It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.

He was the one who made her try to take her own life.

He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.

And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.

For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.

Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.

To his Rheanys.

He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.

He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.

"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.

He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.

"One more time."

He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.

You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.

You will put your child inside me.

But he wanted her.

He wanted his childhood friend.

His lover, his companion, his joy.

She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.

"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."

He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.

"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.

He was completely helpless against her.

"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.

"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.

"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.

He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.

This, however, did not happen.

The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.

His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.

He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.

He said nothing.

As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.

"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.

"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.

He decided that he would trust her.

His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.

"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.

He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.

Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.

"Mother?"

"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.

He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.

Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.

"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.

"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.

"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.

"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.

What?

"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.

Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.

"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"

He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.

She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.

"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."

He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.

How could he ever doubt her?

Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.

"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.

"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.

He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.

That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.

"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.

However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."

An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.

His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.

"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.

Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."

He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.

I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.

She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.

He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.

No, he thought.

She was no longer her daughter.

She was no longer a bastard.

She was his wife.

When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.

Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.

Rhaenys Targaryen.

His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.

The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.

He nodded his head.

His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.

She had agreed.

Gods, she agreed.

"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.

"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.

No.

None of them could stay here.

He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.

"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."

His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.

"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.

"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."

Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.

His wife was right.

He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.

He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.

"Well…I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.

He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.

He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.

His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.

He hadn't betrayed her.

He would never betray her.

So why did he feel so guilty?

"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.

"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.

He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.

She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.

He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.

He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.

So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.

He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.

He felt shame filling him.

As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.

"Me too." He heard her whisper.

After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.

He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.

He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.

Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.

Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.

Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.

None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.

They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.

She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.

His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.

He accepted her words with relief.

As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.

He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.

A sign of how long she had not been here.

His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.

"− yes −"

He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.

He thought he was touched.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.

She couldn't believe she was home again.

He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.

He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"

He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.

"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.

"Let's go to bed."

He wasn't going to fight her.

He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.

His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.

He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.

He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

When the moon rises

over the dark sky

When you hear from afar

my bitter cry

Know that I long

When the sun rises

over the bright sky

When you hear from afar

my joyful cry

Know that I'm home

And then sleep fell over him.

His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.

"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.

It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.

"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.

Green irises, luscious as grass.

"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.

He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.

He couldn't get anything out of himself.

What had he done?

"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.

Disgust.

"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.

He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.

When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.

"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.

"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.

"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.

"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.

He was the reason for this.

He had done this to her.

"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.

As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.

He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.

His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"

He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.

"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.

For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.

It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.

That all was not yet lost.

He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"

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virgobingo · 5 months

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maki is an interesting character, bc she is generally acknowledged to be one of gege's best written characters in jjk, period. regardless of gender.

but the reason she is so great, is because her arc is centered around her experiences as a girl in a patriarchal society. not one that fits into the standard either.

she's born into a family that is considered misogynistic by other clans' standards. as a twin, no less, which is considered a bad omen. with little to no curse energy to boot.

still, for a large portion of her life, she desired to prove herself to them. in a way that reminds me of the myth of meritocracy? that idea of "if you work hard enough, you can do anything you want and you can prove yourself to the naysayers."

but in her journey she learns it's impossible for her to rise in an institution that actively works against her.

this happens, specifically, when she goes to the zenin clan during the culling games (to simply collect tools). she's confronted by reality in ways that echo momo and nobara's conversation (about the weight of misogyny in their lives).

"A scar on the face can be a good thing for guys. But not for girls. You think the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers is based on skills? [It is] Sure. But only for guys. Even if a girl is skilled, if she's not cute, she is looked down upon. Of course, if she's only cute without any skill, it's the same. Women Jujutsu Sorcerers aren't expected to be skilled. They're expected to be perfect." (Momo, Chapter 40)

the first thing she is told when she visits the compound is "yikes, what a face. that ain't gonna heal. what are you gonna do Maki? [...] all you had going was your face and now it's wrecked. no one will even look in your direction anymore." (Chapter 148, p.2-3)

after that, she crosses paths with her mother, who, at face value, echoes the horror tropes of mothers that "fanatically conform to the institution" (i think her actions later make her more complex).

then, finally, maki comes across her father, who remarks on maki and mai's "worthlessness" to him. he's convinced himself he would be better off in life if they were dead.

maki's continuously told she has no value in this world. for things that are out of her control.

of course, this all leads to the loss of mai, who sacrifices herself in order to essentially push maki forward as a character bc "to gain something, you must offer something," in the world of jujutsu kaisen. this is not exclusive to them. it also leads to mai telling maki something that aligns really well with what "female rage" means to me:

"Destroy… Everything" (Chapter 149, p.12)

why?

i think there is no amount of climbing you can do in a society that is actively pulling you down. no way to become clan head in an institution that wants you dead.

i believe it's this realization that causes maki to embrace her "monstruous femininity" that ultimately results in her ascension (as a person, as a sorcerer).

i know some people criticize her decision to kill the zenin in honor of her sister's memory. but, i think the message here is that some institutions simply cannot be reformed.

also, note that with their destruction, maki's narratively released from their expectations.

anyways, what comes after is honestly hilarious. i think it's a mockery of what gege expected misogynistic readers to say. "you're not toji!" (Chapter 151, 6-19) as if drawing a parallel implies that she's his copy.

another charming detail to maki's character is how sumo helps her find freedom/her groove. considering how, in traditional sumo, "women are considered impure and cannot step into the ring". it's just something so fitting for maki who continually defies gender expectations.

long post to say: i honestly love her and i think ppl often ignore how entrenched her story is in the female experience bc they just see how buff she is.

#maki zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jjk meta #tags suck and i am never consistent

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bougiebutchbinch · 6 months

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I do appreciate 'softer' interpretations of canon where everything is happy and nothing hurts. I think these headcanons and rewrites of characters have a huge and important place within fandom. This is not to say anything against people who prefer this sort of content.

But.

When I love a fucked-up character, I love the whole character, warts and all.

So.... a massive grateful shout out to the writers and creators who acknowledge that Ed was abused by his father, but don't shy away from the fact that Ed struggles to care for his crew. Thanks to the writers who acknowledge that he made terrible abusive choices towards his crew that there would realistically be consequences of, but this doesn't mean he's beyond changing - he can still choose to do better and can confront his own actions & his fear of becoming his father. He is worthy of love and support throughout this journey (though this absolutely shouldn't be expected to come from his victims).

Thanks to the writers who acknowledge that Stede survived his father's abuse and some truly atrocious childhood bullying - but also remember that he is a cis white ablebodied man born to extreme privilege, who needs to be reminded on occasion that piracy is not a game and that his crew are the lives he is gambling with when his plans veer even more dangerous than normal. That he started off as a class tourist, and is still very much learning what life is like outside of his circle of the landed gentry, even if he's throwing himself into piracy with adorable enthusiasm.

And thanks to the writers who portray Izzy as a victim of Ed's abuse, as he is in canon, and who also continue to depict him in all his twisted, messy, bitter glory: a man inured to violence, who warped himself to fit a crueller world of piracy than the one we see in the show, who enabled many of Ed's darker choices in S1 and pre-canon (although... he didn't make him do shit. 'I fed your darkness' =/= 'I made you abuse your crew, myself included', holy crap). Who is still learning to accept the kindness of others without biting every outstretched hand. Who was an imperfect man and is an imperfect survivor, but is a survivor nevertheless.

In short: Gimme all your flawed 'unloveable' characters, and watch me love them anyway.

#the izcourse #izzy hands #blackbonnet #steddyhands #ofmd #our flag means death #ed teach #ofmd stede #the edcourse #stede bonnet #ofmd izzy #ofmd edward teach #gentlebeard #my thots #fandom meta #ofmd meta

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tamiart · 2 months

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I wrote a little romance scene between Halsin and Tav, mostly imagining Halsin’s POV.

Summary: Tav is breaking down under the pressure of the enormous task ahead of her, and Halsin happens upon her.

Since I don’t consider myself a writer, I have never tried to write anything like this before. But I love this game so much, and especially when it comes to these two characters, my imagination is continuously running away with me. I need more material with them, so I tried to create some of my own. I hope you like it.

Midnight Solace

Everyone was finishing up their duties in setting up camp. Halsin looked over to see Tav talking to Wyll and Gale, who were arguing about something as they tried to come up with a strategy for some fight or other, which was now an almost daily occurrence. Tav looked worn out, barely listening to the two of them bicker as she studied a map they had drawn in the dirt. The others were always going to her for help with their problems, and by Silvanus did everyone in this group have catastrophic problems. In all his many years, Halsin had never met such a varied, volatile bunch of individuals. They reminded him of his younger years when every mishap, every mistake, felt like the end of the world.

Tav was the most intriguing to him. She couldn’t be half his age, and yet this young, unassuming slip of a girl had gone out of her way, putting aside her own troubles and fears, which must be plentiful though she never voiced them, for weeks throughout their perilous journey to help many along the way, including himself. She was helping him find a way to lift the shadow curse, which had haunted him for a century as his greatest shame and failure. She had risked her life to infiltrate a horde of nasty, treacherous little goblins to free him - a huge, threatening wild bear that could have tried to kill her too for all she knew. But even in his most savage form, she wasn’t afraid of him.

Halsin had never met anyone like her. He often found himself watching her from across camp as she went about the daily routine that everyone had settled into - helping to prepare their meals, eating, talking and laughing with everyone around the fire, getting ready to go to sleep, preparing to head out in the mornings. He wondered about her as he performed his own duties. He felt himself drawn to her, and realized he was reluctant to leave her side. He was sorely tempted to forsake his druidic duties and stay with her, to be there for her and protect her for as long as she would let him during her quest to save them all. She stirred long-dormant feelings in him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way about anyone.

Later that night, after everyone had sought their bedrolls, rest seemed to elude Halsin, so he gave up and headed towards the woods to lose himself in a hunt. As he walked past Tav’s bedroll, he noticed she wasn’t there. He looked around briefly, but did not see her. Slightly alarmed, he enhanced his senses and picked up her scent trail heading into the forest. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he followed it.

As he approached the stream nearby, he heard the sound of someone crying. He stopped and peered through the trees in that direction and saw that it was Tav, sitting by the water, her head resting on her bent knees. He felt a sympathetic pang to see and hear her so distraught. Not wanting to frighten her, he made his footsteps audible as he rounded a bush and approached her, and she started up and noticed him, and immediately turned away to surreptitiously wipe away the traces of her misery. He felt his heart stir.

“Oh, Halsin,” she said, “what are you doing out here so late?”

“I could not sleep,” he responded, “so I was going for a walk. I could ask you the same thing. Are you alright, my friend?”

At that, she failed at reigning in her emotions and burst into sobs once more.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered through her tears. “I don’t know what’s come over me tonight.”

He hurried over and sat beside her. “It’s alright,” he tried to reassure her. But she could not stop, and he hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

His touch seemed to relax something in her and she leaned towards him. He put his arm around her and held her closer. The feel of her sobs shaking her slight frame melted away his final resistance, and he knew then that he would do anything to help this girl. He was lost to her. He held her until her sobs quieted into sniffles.

“What is it, my friend? Can I do anything to help?” He asked her gently.

“No, I’ll be okay.” She sighed.”Ugh look at me, I’m such a mess.”

“You are still beautiful. But stay here, I’ll get something for you.” Halsin quietly returned to his tent and found a clean cloth, poured a cup of water and grabbed a blanket as well, then returned to Tav’s side. She had calmed down and sat quietly staring into the stream with a troubled expression on her face. He draped the blanket around her shoulders and handed her the water and cloth.

“Thank you. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this,” said Tav, wiping her tear-stained face. “They’re all depending on me to be strong. I need to be strong for all of us if we’re going to get through this.” She took a sip of water and put the cup down on a rock.

He placed his arm around her again and pulled her close. “No one expects you to be invincible. You don’t need to carry all of it alone. We’re all here to help you. I’m here to help you.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyelashes. The distance between them was too close. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, and it took all of his will to resist. She needed him to be strong just now, and he would give her his support.

“Thanks, Halsin,” She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear. I just… I’m so afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time. Why does every decision have to fall to me? Every time one of us gets injured, I wonder if I should give it all up. Maybe I’m just leading us all to our deaths.” Her voice choked on those last words, and she covered her face with her hands and pulled away from him. “I can’t… that thought… it’s too much to bear.”

“Your fears are completely understandable under the circumstances. We have far too much leveled against us, with no end to our journey in sight. What an incredible amount of pressure to undertake. But Tav, you’ve been amazing thus far. Why do you think everyone trusts you so implicitly? No one else could have gotten this eccentric group of misfits this far, to survive as much as we have. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it. You don’t realize how extraordinary you truly are. My dear friend, we would all follow you anywhere. I would follow you anywhere. If anyone is going to get us all through this, it’s you.”

Tav looked up at him again, a new light and curiosity in her glance. “You truly believe that?”

“With all my heart.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Oak father preserve him, Tav had him wrapped around her finger. “Thanks, Halsin,” she whispered into him. She looked up at him again, and her face finally softened into a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Tav, I - “ he tried to find the right words. “Please know that I’m always here for you, if you ever need to talk about anything. I will do my best to help you, in any way that you need.”

She was still looking up at him, her gaze searching. She was so beautiful, he could hold back no longer. Cautiously, he lowered his face down towards her, watching her expression as he did so. She did not pull away, and her lips parted as her glance fell to his mouth. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the salt of her tears as he kissed her, and she kissed him back, tentatively at first, but quickly growing more eager. Her lips were full, soft and warm. Finally they both had to pull away, gasping for air. He had to stop now before he took things too far. He couldn’t ask that much of her just now in her current vulnerable state.

Tav stared at him, stunned. Then as if suddenly realizing where she was, she blushed and gave him a shy, tentative smile. “Wow,” She gasped as she found her voice. “What was that?”

“I’ve dreamed about kissing you for a long time,” he confessed to her.

“Really? But I didn’t… I thought… you’ve never…” Tav stammered.

“I know. I didn’t want to do anything to upset you or harm our friendship. And I didn’t want to distract you during such a crucial and difficult time. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, to let you focus.”

Tave let out a breathy laugh. “Well, it’s a very welcome distraction.” She hesitated, then looked up at him shyly once more. “I’ve been thinking about that as well, with you.”

He wrapped her in his arms once more and held her in silence. They sat together, listening to the night sounds of the forest and the babble of the nearby stream. Gradually, he felt her relax in his arms. Her head began to droop against his shoulder. He could have stayed this way all night. But reluctantly, he gently shook her awake.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he told her. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” She stood up and handed the blanket back to him. She tried to return the cloth as well, but he told her to keep it. She seemed reluctant to go. “Thank you, Halsin. This was… it means a lot.” She smiled at him once more.

And she was gone before he could respond, leaving him alone once more in the woods, the blanket in his arms, all of his senses full of her, and his mind a whirl of thoughts, emotions and desires.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x tav #bg3 headcanons #bg3 romance #bg3 fanfiction #halsin fanfic

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lume-nosity · 1 year

Text

if they get isekai’d to our world

characters: tighnari, nilou, yun jin, eula, aether, lumine, heizou, kazuha, xiao

genre: fluff

an: this is completely self indulgent and i may make a part 2 of this when i’m feeling up for it. take this post before i vanish again for the week. i’ll see you all again on the weekends <3

notes: not proofread, gender neutral reader, swearing, written in hc form so it’s short/weird, reverse isekai trope, written in one day

reblogs are appreciated!

trusting tighnari with your plants.

he’s experienced in the botanical area, so have him tend to them. it’ll also give him an opportunity to study/observe said plant(s), so just have him watch your plants when you don’t have the time. he’ll be very happy.

but if he finds out that you haven’t been caring for them before the isekai fiasco, he will scold you. and then give you a lecture on why and how you should care for them.

if you have like a book on plants/biology/anything plant related, he’ll be thrilled to read such a book from you. he will spend sleepless nights reading it, and you have to remind him to take it easy.

nilou, yun jin, and eula playing just dance.

nilou’s having a great time, ended up getting high scores while eula is flustered but she still maintains her graceful stature when dancing.

eula didn’t want to play at first because she’s suspicious of the game, but she was dragged into playing so she didn’t have any other choice. she ended up liking it but of course she doesn’t admit it. and yun jin is just glad she gets to be a part of it.

all of you are dancing the night away frfr

having venti listen to your playlists.

as it’s known, he knows every song in existence. but listening to your playlists, he’s surprised he’s never heard of such a tune before. because, you know, he’s not from your world.

but even so, it reels him in wanting more. so he begs you to borrow your phone to listen to your playlists, especially new ones you just made.

when you left your phone somewhere unattended and venti came across it, he looked both sides before snagging your phone off of its place to listen to your playlists in secret. ehe.

aether & lumine being your errand buddies.

if you’re planning to go out to run an errand like buying groceries or something, these two are the first ones to volunteer to help. i know they do everything in teyvat; doing shit for everyone and all that but this is different. when they got isekai’d, they’re reunited! (i’m going to ignore the abyss sibling bullshit okay let me write in peace i want these two to be happy)

so they’re returning the favor by assisting you in anything! even in your house, they still help you with chores and whatnot! which made you worry for them, so you’ve decided to arrange a time where you all could sit and chat. they talked about their journeys to other worlds, and you could listen to them talk for hours.

introducing heizou to true crime documentaries.

ohhhhh boy you know he will binge the SHIT out of them. now that he doesn’t have to deal with missing pets, he has something interesting to indulge himself in.

he ends up figuring out who’s the culprit before the show could even reveal who. which shocks you, if you’re the type to take a long time trying to connect the dots.

if you show him some unsolved cases, you know damn well he’ll look/watch into it. you have a smart detective on your hands, and if he ends up solving them as well, you must be writhing in pride that you and heizou are the only ones who know the truth.

kazuha asking you to go out on a stroll from time to time.

one time when he accompanies you and your errand buddies because he wants to see what your world looks like in addition to lending another hand, he wants to see that again. the wind, the sky, the view, all of that. it’s all unique to him.

so, expect him to ask you if you’d like to go out on a little stroll for a while. it’s an excuse for him to feel what your world would be like, to digest its features and compliment it all in a poetic sense.

most likely points out the colors of the leaves you guys walk by. he’s just blabbering about nature while you’re out here digesting his words and your mind turns into an actual tree from listening.

teaching xiao everything you know about your world.

yes, this seems bland, but listen. xiao is oblivious to how teyvat works in terms of tradition/humans, and now that he’s isekai’d to your world, you have to teach this poor innocent individual.

he needs information in order to adapt to this new world he’s not familiar with, knowing there’s not really a way out.

xiao is listening intently and nodding to everything you say, asking questions at the same time.

this isn’t part of the headcanon, but he’s also cautious when you say you’re going to go out at night especially when aether & lumine are busy with other matters. if that were to happen he will be the one to step in. no danger will befall you when you have a yaksha by your side.

#✏️ lume writes #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #tighnari x reader #nilou x reader #yun jin x reader #eula x reader #aether x reader #lumine x reader #heizou x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #x gn reader

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snorklingfae · 3 months

Text

Shades of Deception- Prologue

Dark!Joel Miller x naive!Fem reader

Synopsis: Amidst the ruins of a broken world, one survivor stands out from the rest - Joel Miller. With his sharp wit and unmatched ability to deceive, Joel has always managed to outmaneuver those around him. But when he meets y/n, an unsuspecting and trusting survivor, Joel sees an opportunity to take his game to the next level. As their relationship progresses, y/n unwittingly becomes entangled in Joel's web of lies and deceit, utterly unaware of the true extent of his cunning and manipulation. Will y/n break free from Joel's grasp before it's too late?

Notes: thinking of instead using the term y/n as it can get tedious to write but use Bambi instead as a nickname Joel uses.

Warnings: none yet more will be added in each chapter

Joel trudged wearily through the overgrown remnants of what was once a thriving city. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay, and the dilapidated buildings echoed his every footstep, reminding him of the world that had crumbled around him.

His senses were on high alert, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. Survival had become his second nature in this unforgiving landscape.

One day, fate intervened as Joel was patrolling the area, and he saw a movement amidst the rubble of an abandoned storefront.

He slowly approached, weapon at the ready, prepared for any threat. But as he drew closer, he realized it wasn't a runner or clicker. It was a survivor, like himself, but far more vulnerable than he could have imagined.

She looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, and her face was illuminated by a faint glimmer of hope that still flickered within her.

Despite the grim reality of their world, she radiated an aura of innocence and purity that Joel found both unsettling and strangely captivating.

As Joel observed her, a comparison sprang to mind, one that surprised even him. She reminded him of a character from a storybook, a creature from a world untouched by the darkness that now enveloped them—a fawn, fragile and trusting, with wide eyes that held a spark of curiosity and wonder.

Bambi, he thought to himself, though he doubted she would understand the reference in this harsh new reality.

"Are you bit?" Joel's gruff voice betrayed his concern as he approached cautiously.

"No, I swear," she replied, her voice trembling.

After a few seconds of debating, Joel sighed, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, offering him a tentative smile that tugged at something deep within Joel's hardened heart.

“I'm fine," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... scared."

Joel crouched beside her, his expression unreadable as he studied her carefully. He could see the fear in her eyes, and the uncertainty mirrored his inner turmoil.

Despite the danger that lurked around every corner, there was something about this girl that drew him in, a flicker of humanity amidst the chaos that consumed their world.

Without a word, Joel extended a hand to her, offering her comfort in a world devoid of kindness.

“Come on," he said gruffly, his tone softened by a hint of warmth that surprised even him. "You'll be safer with me."

And with that simple gesture, Joel's solitary journey took an unexpected turn, leading him down a path he never could have anticipated—a path that would intertwine his fate with hers in ways neither of them could have imagined.

As they set out together into the unknown, they would discover that sometimes, in the darkest of times, it was the tiniest glimmer of hope that could light the way forward.

Shades of deception tags

@orcasoul @paanchusblog

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem reader #dark joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel hbo #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal

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yuujispinkhair · 6 days

Text

Separation Anxiety (Chapter 13)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 5k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

A little reminder for this chapter: In this AU, Shibuya and the Culling Game never happened.

Chapter 13

You've been my God, and when you're gone, I'm godless. But with my eyes closed, I'm still dancing in your love (Godless by BANKS)

Yuuji's POV:

Yuuji feels like he is trapped in a nightmare. It's similar to the feeling he initially had when, all those months ago, he woke up in a room he didn't know, with all his memories gone. But the difference is that back then, the nightmare soon dissolved, and while things were still weird for the first few days, Yuuji soon felt comfortable and was able to adjust to the life that Sukuna showed him. The life that Yuuji believed was his.

But now, all that comfort and warmth is gone, ripped out of his hands and soul so cruelly. This is a nightmare Yuuji cannot wake up from.

He cannot bring himself to feel at home in this weird private school outside of Tokyo, surrounded by people he doesn't remember who keep telling him nightmarish things about curses and sorcerers and a fight between good and evil, which apparently Yuuji is part of.

A world in which Yuuji is the hero and Sukuna is the villain.

The first time they told him who Sukuna really is, Yuuji laughed hysterically. It seemed utterly insane. And yet, it matched the things Sukuna had said to him before he kicked Yuuji out.

The sorcerers showed Yuuji ancient records dating back over a thousand years, which talked about the strongest sorcerer of the Heian era. A King, a monster so terrifying and powerful that he was compared to a natural disaster.

The King of Curses. Ryomen Sukuna.

A name that is still feared today, a name that stands for bloodshed and cruelty, an ancient evil that everyone wishes had never been awakened again.

But Sukuna came back. He came back through Yuuji. He lived inside Yuuji for years, shared a body with him, and entwined their souls.

And Yuuji can still feel it.

His hand automatically comes up to his chest, pressing it against the spot that always feels so hollow now, like something is missing there, like there is a wound inside him that aches and bleeds and yearns for that missing piece. He wonders if Sukuna can feel it, too.

Everything feels strange.

Yuuji knows he should be appalled. And he is. He feels sick when he hears the stories about Sukuna. But at the same time, he cannot let go of the doubts running through his mind. Because the man Yuuji lived with, isn't the same person those records talk about. This monster everyone warns him about isn't at all like the man waiting in that fancy penthouse apartment. That caring, funny, and loving man who made Yuuji so happy.

Of course, looking back, Yuuji has to admit that there were several things that seemed off. Things that seemed utterly ludicrous or made no sense if Yuuji tried to dig a bit deeper. He had been aware of those, but had decided to ignore them.

He can recall feeling uneasy around Sukuna at first. This weird feeling of being prey that got cornered by its predator, like an insect caught in a spider's web. It had made the hairs on Yuuji's arms stand up. But Yuuji had swallowed that uneasiness down, refused to show it, and bravely fought it with all his power. He didn't want to make the man who took him in and looked after him feel like Yuuji was scared of him. Yuuji didn't want to seem ungrateful. He didn't want to hurt the person who said he was Yuuji's boyfriend.

And after all, it simply never occurred to Yuuji that someone would make up a story like that just to keep him with them. So he ignored that weird feeling and told himself he was stupid for being wary. Because why should he be scared of his own boyfriend?

And soon, things felt different. Soon Yuuji felt drawn to Sukuna. Soon, he felt at ease around him. Soon, he really liked Sukuna. And he chided himself for thinking something seemed off in the beginning. Sukuna was sweet to him! He was caring and understanding and so patient with Yuuji and his recovery. He was the perfect boyfriend.

Looking back at it now, Yuuji knows that it was just part of the plan that was supposed to lead to his downfall. But was it really just that?

In the beginning, it probably was. But after that? After several months of living together? Didn't Sukuna seem really distraught and sick with worry when Yuuji got injured? Hadn't it been real love looking back at Yuuji out of those beautiful sapphire eyes when they made love during that thunderstorm?

When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he doesn't see red eyes and bloodshed. He doesn't see a cruel smirk, and violence. When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he sees a genuine smile and light blue eyes that were always so warm when they looked at Yuuji. He sees a warm, loving hand reaching out to him to hold him, to guide him, to take care of him.

The memories make Yuuji choke. Make him hug himself tightly as a deep longing fills him, so strong that it manifests in physical pain.

The people at the Jujutsu Academy try to tell him it is all just a lie, that the love he and Sukuna shared has never been real. But that's not how it feels to Yuuji.

Am I too naive? Was it really all just a game to Sukuna?

Yuuji cannot believe it, even after everything they told him. He is still haunted by the tenderness of the last kiss Sukuna breathed onto his cheek and the sadness written all over Sukuna's face when he pushed Yuuji away. That wasn't the face of a man who was just playing a cruel game. That was the face of someone who had his heart ripped out of his chest.

Yuuji wants to leave. He wants to go home.

It's not that the people here at the academy are mean to him. They aren't at all. Everyone is very nice to him. They look at him with eyes that hold empathy and sadness. Yuuji can easily believe that those people used to be his friends in a life he can't remember. Megumi and Nobara seem nice and truly worried about him. Yuuji is sure that in his former life, the three of them got along really well.

But even though he is convinced they mean well, he can't bring himself to accept any of it. Everything feels wrong now that everything he believed was true is suddenly revealed as a big lie.

His former teachers, now coworkers, try to re-introduce Yuuji to his life as a jujutsu sorcerer. They show him documents, pictures, and all kinds of twisted things that shouldn't even exist. And Yuuji asks a thousand questions. Sometimes, he receives sad smiles in return and no real answer. Other times, he gets the cold, hard truth that sends him spiraling even further and yet makes him feel strangely better because at least he knows they aren't holding things back from him.

He finds that the white-haired, tall guy, Gojo, is the most open about things. At times, what he tells Yuuji seems tactless and cruel, but Yuuji appreciates that someone tells him everything instead of treating him with kid gloves.

Gojo is also the one who answers Yuuji's most pressing question.

They are sitting at Gojo's desk. Various files are spread out on the table, reports about former missions. Yuuji's skin tingles unpleasantly anytime Gojo casually mentions how many victims there had been in each case.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer seems to be filled with blood and death. Sorcerers have to kill, and it makes a feeling of dread wash over Yuuji, which gradually grows stronger and stronger until he can't take it anymore and he asks what has been plaguing him ever since they opened that first file,

"Did... did I kill someone, too?"

"Yes."

That single word makes black spots dance in front of Yuuji's eyes as he clenches his fists so tightly that his nails draw blood.

"You had to do it, Yuuji. Don't blame yourself for it. Those were people who got transfigured into something else completely. You gave them peace by doing it. You are a good person."

Yuuji can only huff at that. Just yesterday, he read about several clan heads getting murdered by Sukuna a thousand years ago, and the reports painted Sukuna as a ruthless monster. And now Yuuji listens to the deaths that were caused by his own hands, but the reports file it under a job well done, a success for humanity.

Blood is rushing in his ears.

Everyone here tells him that the sorcerers are on the good side and that they protect people. And, of course, Yuuji likes the thought of being a hero. He likes the thought of fighting evil. But the problem is that he is painfully becoming aware that things rarely are just as black and white as a lot of people seem to believe.

Yuuji's face twists in a pained grimace as he thinks of those horror movies he recently watched with Sukuna, The Human Earthworm series, and how Yuuji felt a strange sympathy for the monster. The series had touched him in a way that he wasn't able to explain, but maybe he is beginning to understand it now.

Is there 100% evil and 100% good? Who decides who is a monster?

Yuuji gulps hard as he thinks again about that one special file with his name on the front. The red one. The one that contains information about how he became part of the jujutsu society. The circumstances of his birth. How he was made to be the perfect vessel or, rather, the perfect cage for Sukuna. And the document that states that Yuuji was sentenced to death. He found out that it was only thanks to Megumi and Gojo that his execution had been suspended. But most members of the jujutsu society still refuse to see him as a human being. In their eyes, Yuuji is a monster, too.

Gojo's large hand reaches out and ruffles Yuuji's hair in what is supposed to be a soothing gesture. But Yuuji flinches away from it. The gentle touch reminds him too painfully of Sukuna.

He excuses himself and flees to his room, hiding in the bed that feels too small and too cold and too empty.

He switches on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract himself and drown out all the thoughts that keep torturing him. But unbidden, his mind wanders to memories of pink hair on black silk sheets, beautiful sapphire-colored eyes that look deeply into his, and strong, tattooed arms reaching out to hold him gently. Yuuji imagines he can still feel the warmth of those arms around him, and before he even realizes what he is doing, he hugs himself in an attempt to soothe the longing those memories cause.

No matter how fake things might have been in the beginning, the last few months with Sukuna had been wonderful.

They lived in their own little world. They only had each other and Uraume. But it was enough. It was perfect. Sukuna and Yuuji watched movies every night, they laughed together, they went on dates, they made love, they kissed for hours and drowned in each other's eyes, and Yuuji felt as close to Sukuna as he thinks one can possibly feel to another person. They were happy. They were in love. And Yuuji wants that back!

A strangled sob escapes his lips, and he pushes himself up into a kneeling position. His fist connects with his pillow, punching it desperately as more sobs shake his body and angry tears run down his face.

Why can't I let go?

Why does that place in his chest still ache so much, as if his soul is bleeding? As if it yearns and screams for its other half. The other half that is supposedly evil incarnate and yet feels like the only thing that can make Yuuji feel okay again.

Yuuji is sitting in the dining area with Megumi and Nobara, listening half-heartedly to their bickering. Nobara is talking about a shopping spree she wants to do, and Megumi chides her for spending too much money on useless things. But Yuuji's mind is filled with memories of walking through the city with Sukuna only a few weeks ago. The feeling of Sukuna's thumb caressing his wrist when Yuuji took his hand. The smile on Sukuna's face when Yuuji came out of the changing room in a fine black suit he tried on in one of the designer stores.

Before he can stop himself, Yuuji blurts out,

"I want to go home."

Silence settles over the table. Nobara and Megumi have both stopped talking mid-sentence and stare at him before they both ask at the same moment,

"Why would you want to go back?"

It's almost comical how they stare at him with such incredulous expressions on their faces. But Yuuji can't find the situation funny. He feels a whole array of contradicting emotions curse through him. Guilt, because these are his friends, and they are worried about him and want to protect him, and he is so stubborn and refuses to let them save him. Sadness because despite everything, he misses Sukuna. And a steadily growing irritation that everyone here claims they know what's best for Yuuji without actually listening to what he wants. And that's what makes him stare back at his friends challengingly,

"Because I miss my home, of course. And I miss Sukuna."

His friends stare at him as if he has lost his mind. Nobara is the first to react. Her small fists land loudly on the wooden table, and she practically yells at him,

"Are you fucking dumb? He is the King of Curses! You cannot go back to him!"

And then Megumi's low voice joins in, calmer than Nobara but still obviously furious.

"We told you who he is and what he did. How can you still want to go back? Snap out of it, Itadori! This is your home! Here at the academy, with us. You wouldn't be safe with Sukuna. Don't be stupid."

"But the person you told me about, this King of Curses. That isn't the Sukuna I know! The Sukuna I know isn't evil!"

Yuuji knows how stupid he sounds, trying to argue and ignore the truth. Acting like a stubborn and naive child. But he can't help it. Nothing makes sense anymore. The person they tell him about sounds like a stranger to Yuuji. Nothing they tell him about Sukuna sounds like the man Yuuji lived with. The man he shared his bed with. The man he watched movies with every night. The man who carried him to bed when Yuuji fell asleep. The man he laughed with, the man he cuddled with, and went on morning runs in the park with. Nothing they say sounds like the man Yuuji was in love with, and who, as Yuuji still firmly believes, loved him too.

Megumi looks at him with his blue eyes, which are a darker shade of blue than Sukuna's. His usually so calm voice is trembling lightly,

"He is a bad person. He killed people."

A hysterical laugh escapes Yuuji's lips at that.

"So did I, apparently, and you too. Everyone here is a murderer, Megumi."

"That's different!"

"Maybe I had good reasons for it, maybe I didn't. All I know is that there is blood on my hands, too! So, who am I to judge? Maybe Sukuna thought he was in the right, too. We don't know it! Were you there a thousand years ago? Did you see it happen? Do you know Sukuna? Because I do! And he isn't the evil monster you are trying to tell me he is!"

Yuuji knows he sounds delusional, but he cannot stop. He adds stubbornly,

"Think what you want, but he isn't the way you say. And I want to go home and see him again because I love him."

Megumi looks like Yuuji hit him. He shakes his head, eyes pleading helplessly with Yuuji now, his face twisted with worry.

"It's not love, Itadori..."

Yuuji knows Megumi means good, but he cannot stop himself from feeling anger rise in his chest. Anger that everyone treats him like a stupid child or some lunatic who has lost his mind. Anger that no one allows him to have his own opinion on the matter. Anger that no one actually listens to what he says. He glares at Megumi, his hands balled into fists under the table, but his voice is deadly calm, a low, dangerous growl,

"Don't tell me what my relationship is and what it's not."

Yuuji gets up so fast that his chair gets knocked over, but he doesn't care. He has to get away! He cannot bear looking into the pleading eyes of his former friends and hear their accusations and judgment. He cannot stand to see the worry in their eyes or hear the desperation in their voices as they try to save him from the monster that Yuuji refuses to see as a monster.

Or maybe he believes them. Maybe Sukuna is a monster. But after everything that Yuuji has learned about himself, he is pretty sure that he is a monster, too. Maybe that's why his and Sukuna's souls match so well.

Maybe we are two monsters who belong together. Maybe it takes a monster to love a monster.

Yuuji storms outside, breathing heavily as he runs towards the large gates, even though he already knows what will happen once he is close enough.

As expected, only a few seconds later, Yuuji runs into an invisible wall. It makes him stumble back, but instead of trying to regain his balance, Yuuji lets himself fall to the ground defeatedly, landing on his ass with a loud thud.

He tilts his head back to look at the slight glimmer in the air before him, which indicates where the powerful barrier starts. There is no use fighting it. Yuuji is effectively locked in here.

He laughs grimly at the irony that the sorcerers installed a barrier around the academy that keeps Yuuji locked inside while at the same time they try to tell him that Sukuna was the one who held him hostage.

At least Sukuna let me leave the house anytime I wanted.

Yuuji lets out a shaky breath. He knows no one believes him when he says that he and Sukuna were in love. He knows they are convinced it was just one-sided, that Yuuji got tricked into having feelings for Sukuna, while Sukuna only saw it as a cruel little game.

But Yuuji refuses to believe them. He knows that his and Sukuna's relationship wasn't just a lie.

He cannot forget the way Sukuna looked at him. And he can't help but think that he is the only one who truly knows Sukuna. The real Sukuna. Not the King of Curses. But the man behind that title. The man who thinks cherry blossoms look pretty, especially when they land on Yuuji's hair. The man who always has that happy expression in his eyes when he eats a good meal. The man who reads poetry and laughed even louder than Yuuji at certain movie scenes. The man who almost purred when Yuuji petted his hair and who was clinging tightly to his boyfriend in his sleep.

The thought makes Yuuji smile sadly. He can still remember how it felt to be wrapped in Sukuna's arms and in his love. And it still feels like the only thing that makes sense in this world.

How is Yuuji supposed to move on from something that felt so right? How is he supposed to believe that this is wrong?

Yuuji sighs. Tears slowly run down his cheeks, but he doesn't bother wiping them away.

It hurts. Everything hurts. There is this emptiness in Yuuji's chest again, as if something that is supposed to be there has been ripped out of him forcefully. And in moments like these, it grows stronger and turns from a dull ache to a stabbing pain.

He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging himself as he cries softly while sitting on the cold, stony path, probably looking like misery incarnated. But Yuuji cannot feel embarrassed even when Gojo finds him like this.

Gojo doesn't say anything but just sits down next to Yuuji, not close enough that they touch, but close enough so Yuuji can feel the warmth radiating from Gojo's body. They sit in silence for a moment until the words spill from Yuuji's lips.

"I want to see him again. I want my life back! Even if it isn't really my life, I want it back! But everyone tells me I am wrong for wanting it. Everyone tells me Sukuna is evil. All the reports say he is a monster. But I have all those other memories of him. Sukuna was so... He was sweet to me! Everyone tells me I am crazy and that I only got manipulated into thinking I love Sukuna, but that's not how it feels to me! It was real! And it hurts that I am not with him! I don't know what to do. I feel like a part of me is missing and that I will never be whole again if I cannot be with Sukuna."

Those otherworldly blue eyes look thoughtfully at him. There is no anger or judgment, only a deep, knowing sadness as if Gojo understands what Yuuji is talking about.

When Gojo answers, his voice is very different from the one he usually uses. There is no teasing undertone to it, no amused smirk on his face, no mockery. Instead, he sounds wary, as if the words he says to Yuuji have been haunting him for a long time.

"Love is the cruelest curse of all, Yuuji. We cannot control who we love, and even when we know a thousand reasons why we shouldn't love them, we still cannot change it."

Another sob escapes Yuuji's lips, and he nods wildly. Gojo smiles, but it's a sad smile, one of regret.

"I, too, thought Sukuna wasn't capable of love. But maybe I was wrong. I thought about it a lot after you came here and told your story. The thing is, If you ask anyone, they will tell you I am not capable of love either. But that's not true. I have loved in the past. I have loved so much that it became my biggest weakness."

Yuuji blinks at his former teacher, surprised that Gojo is talking about personal things. And that he doesn't seem to outright say Sukuna just played with Yuuji. Gojo smirks at Yuuji, but it isn't his usual aloof smirk. It looks forced and isn't able to hide the raw emotions underneath it. When Gojo continues, his voice is soft, carrying a vulnerability Yuuji hasn't seen in Gojo yet.

"The one I loved did terrible things, too. But that wasn't able to make me stop loving him. In the end, I killed him, and it still haunts me and I still ask myself every day if I could have done something differently. If I could have brought him back on our side. If I could have saved him if I just tried harder. That's my curse, and I carry it with me at all times."

And Yuuji understands. Gojo can relate to him. Yuuji smiles softly and offers a sincere, "I am sorry."

But Gojo isn't finished.

"Before your memory loss, the connection between you and Sukuna was a breeding ground for hate. Sukuna treated you and the ones you cared about with cruelty, and so you reacted fittingly and treated him with hate, too. But everything changed when you lost your memories. Because it meant that Sukuna was a blank page for you. And for whatever reason, he wanted you to believe he was your boyfriend, so he was nice to you. He didn't give you any reason to hate him. And so you treated him differently, too. You treated him with affection instead of hatred. Maybe that is what changed everything."

Yuuji gulps hard and looks at his former teacher with a racing pulse and a flicker of something in the back of his mind. A thought, an understanding, that sits deep inside him, but he cannot quite catch yet.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe there is more to that whole fake-boyfriend thing. What if Sukuna himself wasn't aware of the real reason why he did it? What if this whole idea was born out of a deep-buried wish, maybe? Something Sukuna didn't even know he craved: To get a taste of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that genuine love that you have in you? He watched you give that love to everyone around you all those years he spent inside your body. He saw it when you were kind to strangers and ran to everyone's rescue. He saw it in the way you treated your friends. So, what if, deep down, Sukuna wanted to be on the receiving end of that love, too, for once?

And he got that from you after you lost your memories, didn't he? You gave him love, Yuuji. Because that's just what you do. That's who you are.

You are so genuine, so sweet, and full of love. You come to others with open arms and affection, ready to save everyone and give your life for them. There is no one else who is better at making people's hearts melt. You are the embodiment of love.

And maybe that is what Sukuna needed. Maybe this was the only way he could learn about love. Maybe he needed you to show him. If anyone is able to teach Sukuna how to love, I am sure it is you."

Yuuji stares at Gojo, utterly touched by his words, his mind whirling. He lets out a shaky breath and wipes his eyes with his palms.

"So... does that mean you believe me that what Sukuna and I had was real? You believe me that Sukuna loves me too and is no danger to me?"

Gojo laughs softly, but Yuuji can see the seriousness of the situation in those otherworldly blue eyes.

"What I believe is that if Sukuna wanted, he would have already attacked us. He would have already burned down this whole city months ago and killed everyone who didn't fall on their knees in front of him. But did he do any of that?

He didn't. And there is no logical explanation for it. The only thing I can think of is that you are the reason. Sukuna changed his agenda because of you. Maybe he isn't interested in those things anymore because he found something else, something more powerful. Maybe he chose you and your love instead of the destruction and solitude he was used to."

Gojo's gaze burns into Yuuji's as the seconds tick by, and his words sink in. Yuuji feels like he will choke on the fresh tears that threaten to spill over. He wipes furiously at his eyes, gulping hard. And Gojo smiles that sad smile again before he adds,

"If you want to leave, you are free to do so. I won't let them keep you a prisoner, especially not since I think they got it all wrong. You are far more powerful than they think or than you think. You were created to be the perfect cage for Sukuna, the only one strong enough to control him. And I think that's what you still do. You still have control over Sukuna, even now that you are two separate people. Maybe that is the fate Sukuna can't escape from.

It's quite ironic, isn't it? Sukuna isn't trapped inside your body anymore, but you still have control over him because he cares about you now. That's why I think you are still everyone's life insurance, and it would be pretty counterproductive to keep you and Sukuna apart. You still serve as a cage for the King of Curses because you made him fall in love with you."

And with that, Gojo makes a gesture with his hands. Yuuji feels a slight tingling sensation on his skin. The subtle glimmer in the air in front of him vanishes, and Gojo gets up and grins down at him, extending one hand to Yuuji.

Yuuji takes it and lets his former teacher pull him to his feet, his gaze fixed on the now barrier-free path before him.

Yuuji has barely reached the broad road leading into the city when a loud bark to his left fills the air. A moment later, a large dog is standing in front of him in the middle of the road. Yuuji skitters to a halt just when a familiar low voice speaks up behind him.

"Don't do it. Please, don't go back. I know what Gojo is doing. He is sending you back because he thinks you can serve as another cage for Sukuna. Don't you see it? This isn't about helping you. He is using you, just like they all do. Don't go, Yuuji. You finally have a chance to escape all of this. You have a chance to live your own life. You aren't Sukuna's vessel or cage anymore. You are free. Don't throw that away."

Megumi steps up to Yuuji, looking at him with those sad blue eyes filled with worry and longing, and Yuuji knows at that moment. He knows that Megumi truly cares about him. That Megumi wants to protect him. That Megumi loves him. It makes Yuuji's heart clench. His face softens, and he reaches out to pat Megumi's shoulder and smiles the broadest smile at him that he can,

"Thank you, Megumi. But you see, I want to go back. I am not doing this to sacrifice myself. I am doing it because I want it. I am doing it for me. Because I want that life back that made me happy. And I want to be with Sukuna. Or at least I want to talk to him and try to find a way to make this work."

"I don't think it is safe for you."

"I know you are worried about me, Megumi. Thank you for that, but I have to figure things out for myself. Because everything I learned here is very different from how I experienced things when I was still living with Sukuna. And you said it yourself. I am free. I want to use this freedom to find out the whole truth. Please understand that. That's all I'm asking."

Megumi sighs, his hands repeatedly balling into fists and unclenching again. He looks deeply into Yuuji's eyes as if he is searching for something.

"Can you promise me that you are really doing this for yourself?"

Yuuji nods wildly, his smile growing even bigger,

"I promise you. Trust me. It's going to be okay."

He feels a strange familiarity as if this has happened before. As if he has spoken those words to Megumi before. He sees Megumi's eyes widen, maybe remembering it, too. His lips tremble slightly as he stares at Yuuji for a long moment, but then Megumi nods slowly and takes a step back.

"Okay, I trust you. But be careful... and remember, if you die again, I'll kill you myself."

Yuuji stares at his friend's stern gaze for a moment, feeling that same sense of deja vu again. As if Megumi has said those exact words to him before, too. In his life before the memory loss, before the separation from Sukuna. As if this is some inside joke Megumi and Yuuji have, and it makes Yuuji laugh heartily, feeling lighter now that his friend seems to have his back.

Yuuji turns around and lets out a long breath. He will return to the city and to Sukuna. He doesn't know how things will be when he faces Sukuna again now that Yuuji knows the truth. He doesn't know how he will feel when he looks into Sukuna's eyes again. He doesn't even know if Sukuna will talk to him. But Yuuji knows that he wants to try. He knows that he needs to see the man again who impacted his life so profoundly, before and after the memory loss.

I know what I want, and I can be pretty stubborn. I won't give up that easily!

Thank you so much for reading! I struggled a lot with this chapter, but I worked so long on it and re-wrote and edited it many times, so I hope it is ok now!! I gave my best!

I needed to add a scene with Yuuji and Megumi because my heart was bleeding at the thought of what they lost. So I hope this little scene was able to make things better and show that they still have a deep connection based on genuine love.

And I cried so much at the whole "Sukuna unintentionally wanted to be on the receiving end of Yuuji's love" thing and that he changed because Yuuji finally treated him with love instead of hate. I personally really think that if anyone can teach Sukuna love, it is Yuuji.

Also, it makes me happy that our King of Selflessness, Itadori Yuuji, stands up for what HE wants ;)

Thank you so much if you are still reading this AU!! It means a lot to me!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuita #sukuna x yuuji #sukuna x itadori #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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