#I've tried my hardest to keep him in the best conditions. but...

[ask-bon-bunnyhops]

Speaking of which, I do still have my old Turbo plush. My long time buddy, hoo~

List of TurboTime merchandise to promote the retro arcade cabinet after it's release (1983):

- Turbo mascot plush toy. (a classic best seller in any and all arcades that had a cabinet) - TurboTime Hot Wheels cars released during a collaboration with Mattel Inc. Funfact: Due to a factory error, some of the car figurines would be white instead of the usual red or blue, or the color would be a little bleached, giving them a pink or baby blue hue. These became known as the legendary 'phantom cars'. Only the fiercest collectors see true value in these so-called 'mistakes'. - TurboTime 'surprise' cereal toys. (albeit cheaply made, but still memorable) - TurboTime vintage t-shirts.

- A special TurboTime themed coin token, made to celebrate the game's 3rd anniversary. Funfact: You could win it in your local arcade if you got the highest score in the game, or if you were able to find bugs to take advantage of to gain more points, 'shorcuts' within the game for a quick win, and other such things that the player isn't usually meant to come across other than the developers of the game.

[whatonearthisgoingon]

Demon Giyuu AU

I've been obsessing over Demon Giyuu and SaneGiyuu, so have a little rant/fic about the idea.

There is also some past SabiGiyuu mentioned, but it's minor. Word Count: 2,151

Okay, so Giyuu is on a standard mission against a Lowermoon or minorly powerful but not ranked demon, when out of nowhere someone in the Upper 3 comes along as a reinforcement for the first demon.

Giyuu tries his absolute hardest to kill the demons, to the point where he unlocks the mark. In the end, with the combination of the Uppermoon and lower ranked demon, Giyuu eventually looses, but he's not dead yet, barely conscious and struggling to move. The Upper demon he's against, is pretty impressed with the fight Giyuu gave, and gives him blood, Giyuu too weak to fight back against it. The two demons leave, not waiting to see if Giyuu survives.

Giyuu, feeling the changes, calls Kanzaburo to send a message to the Master and the Hashiras, before eventually passing out from exhaustion as the transformation starts.

Eventually the Hashiras find Demon Giyuu where he's relatively calm for a recently turned demon. He found a stream nearby and is calmly sitting in the water. He found out pretty early that he can control the water, so he's making it form into a multitude of pretty shapes. The Hashiras approach with caution, but their guard is soon dropped as Giyuu brightly talks to them, stating how he's happy they found him.

The only Hashiras who aren't convinced are Sanemi and Obanai. So what does Sanemi do? He walks up to Giyuu, and slashes his own arm open, the Marechi blood dripping down. Sanemi: "You're still so human, right? So surely this has no effect on you, huh? Go on, you know you want it!"

Giyuu is trying his hardest to resist, backing away as Sanemi merely gets closer, taunting him with the blood. Giyuu's eyes are transfixed on the wound, and his breath is becoming more labored as he tries to resist the demonic urges. Eventually, he's able to turn away from Sanemi, refusing the blood; that's enough to convince the other Hashiras of Giyuu's trustworthiness, just as it worked for Nezuko.

As the night is still high, they bring Giyuu back to the Water Estate, where the Master is waiting. They have a long discussion over Giyuu's new condition; how he can't be in the sun, the Blood Demon Art, how missions with non-hashiras should be avoided, a supplementary beef and pork diet to hopefully substitute any cravings for human flesh, etc. After the big topics are discussed, the biggest question arises; who will stay with Giyuu, and make sure he doesn't go crazy and hurt anyone for the next few weeks or months, as he has only recently transformed? Who is strong enough to keep him in check? All eyes turn to Sanemi.

Sanemi: "Why is everyone looking at me?" Obanai: "As much as I hate to admit it, that prick is stronger than all of us, minus you and Gyomei. But I think we can all agree that Gyomei won't be the best at watching a demon." Sanemi: "I'm not watching over the demon fuck- I hate him! There's no way that I'll be taking care of him-!"

-----------------------------------------------------

Giyuu watches as the door shuts when the last Hashira leaves, leaving him and a fuming Sanemi in a room alone, after the Master commanded Sanemi to stay with Giyuu. It's quiet for a minute, when Giyuu finally speaks.

Giyuu: "Do you have a certain type of tea you like? I can make a pot-" Sanemi: "Shut the fuck up, this is all your fault." Giyuu: " ...... I'll just make myself one then.." He says as he stands up and walks out.

Sanemi eventually joins Giyuu, because he has nothing else to do, and he's stuck with the damn idiot, so why not have some tea while he's at it. The two sit in silence, drinking tea, until Giyuu speaks.

Giyuu: "I don't have much set up in my estate, so we can live together in yours." Sanemi: "Excuse me?" Giyuu: "Well the Master said we had to stay together, so you can watch me- so I presume we'll be staying in the same estate?" Sanemi: Loudly sighs. "Whatever you dumb shit, sure. My estate or whatever. Just don't make a mess, you hear me?" Giyuu: "Of course."

Giyuu goes quiet again, just drinking his tea, but he has a small smile. He doesn't know how to explain it, or why he's feeling it, but he's really happy that he gets to hang out with Sanemi now.

When tea is over, they pack up some of Giyuu's clothes, and they go to Sanemi's Estate before the sun rises. While Giyuu is putting his stuff in the guest bedroom, Sanemi goes around his Estate, making sure all the windows are shut and covered with curtains. There's no way he'd let Giyuu see him doing something nice or caring for him like that, so he rushes to get it all done before Giyuu is done unpacking.

Later Sanemi goes to bed, as does Giyuu, as they had been up all night dealing with demon nonsense. The next night, they go on their first mission together.

As they are now eating meals together, going on missions together, and living together, the two start growing closer together. The animosity and tension is still there, but it has become to change. Rather hating Giyuu's whole dumb face, Sanemi specifically hates that dumb, stupid, disgustingly pretty, blue eyes. Giyuu's opinion on Sanemi's anger has shifted from one of irritation to a minor annoyance with a small hint of fondness to it; it's what makes Sanemi, Sanemi.

One night, Giyuu is calmly sitting in his room, reading something, when he hears a yell and a crash from Sanemi's room. He gets up and goes to Sanemi's room, finding him freshly woken from a nightmare.

Rather asking questions, Giyuu just sits down, gently taking the shaking Sanemi's hand. He's quiet, and just sits there, being a comforting presence as Sanemi's racing heart rate slowly lowers. Sanemi squeezes and relaxes his hold on Giyuu's hand many times, Giyuu's presence grounding him.

After a few minutes, Sanemi does something surprising. He hugs Giyuu. Giyuu is shocked at first, but doesn't fight against it, hugging Sanemi. They sit like that for a few minutes, until Sanemi mumbles a quiet "Thank you."

That night, Giyuu lays back down with Sanemi, holding him in that hug, his hands wrapped around Sanemi's waist. The two fall asleep together as the sun rises, and they are still holding each other when they awake in the evening.

They have a meal together, acting like nothing happened, then go on the night's mission. When they return they do their usual routine of a meal, getting ready for bed, etc. But this night, Giyuu follows Sanemi to his room for sleep. Sanemi, although confused at first, doesn't argue, letting Giyuu lay down with him. He would never admit it, but last night was the best he'd slept in years.

This routine continues, neither man willing to bring up the developing intimate relationship between them. It's easier to stay quiet and let it happen. But over the next month, they grow even closer. Hugging and hand holding around the house is becoming common. They pick food off each other's plates. They cook their meals together in the kitchen, or over a fire on missions. They spar together at night when they don't have a mission.

A few times when the two are talking and are close together, there is a want for more, when the two's faces are only a foot or so apart. Sometimes when they hug, the hands trail a little lower than they're supposed to.

Sanemi is pissed at these feelings. Giyuu is a man- and he's not even a human man. He's a demon. A relationship like that would be an abomination on two levels. They'd be executed for this shit, Giyuu much more instantly than Sanemi would. Sure, they could run, but neither of them want that, do they?

Giyuu on the other hand, is less mad that he likes a man, but that that man is Sanemi. Because he knows why its Sanemi specifically. Sanemi... Sabito... The aggressive personality, the purple eyes with so much emotion behind them, the scars formed in battle from strength and courage. He fell for the same person all over again. And just like all of the other people Giyuu loved, Giyuu is scared that something drastic will happen to Sanemi.

The two continue their "friendship," while both holding these feelings inside of them, refusing to speak to each other, too scared of how the other will feel, and how the world will react.

Some of the Hashiras started noticing the shift in the two's relationship. Iguro notices that Sanemi isn't irritated by the mere thought of Giyuu anymore. Shinobu notices that Giyuu's fascination over Sanemi has only increased into a shared friendship; she is very happy for Giyuu. Mitsuri is happy that there is less tension in Hashira meetings now, because they are getting along.

The only Hashira who really notices that the two men long for more, is Tengen. And he's pretty sure he is more accepting of that idea, than the two men infront of him are.

-----------------------------------------------------

Ubuyashiki: "I trust Giyuu to be by himself now. He has been a demon for about 5 months now, and has proven that he is safe to be around, and safe to be on missions by himself." Looking at Sanemi and Giyuu "Sanemi does not need to watch over Giyuu constantly anymore." He pauses then smiles. "If the two of you.. wish to separate, Giyuu can return to his own estate."

Ubuyashiki says that with a certain tone, and a soft smile on his face, suggesting that he knows the two will most likely not want to separate. He makes it clear that this is an option, not a requirement. He dismisses the meeting, and Sanemi and Giyuu return to the Wind Estate.

Sanemi: "So? Are you staying or going?" Giyuu: "Well.. I mean, all my belongings are here anyway.." Sanemi: Nods a little "Yeah, they are.. but.. you want to stay here still?" Giyuu: "Do you want me to leave?" He says with a slightly sad tone Sanemi: "No!" Realizes he was way too quick and loud with his answer. "I mean, you make my life easier, help with cooking and cleaning shit.." Giyuu: Smiles a little. "Well, I'll go get started.. I'll make sure there's some ohagi for dessert.." Sanemi: "Yeah whatever, I'm getting a shower.." He walks off, not letting Giyuu see the smile on his face, now knowing that Giyuu wants to stay. After living together, fully on their own choice, for a few weeks, Giyuu decides that it's finally time to talk about what the two of them are. On a night without a mission, Giyuu takes Sanemi outside to the backyard of the Wind Estate, at around 11:50 pm. They're sitting quietly looking at the scenery under a full moon, when Giyuu speaks up.

Giyuu: "Sanemi, what are we?" Sanemi: Confused. "What do you mean?" Giyuu: "Well.. we've been living together for a few months. We go on almost every mission together. We eat meals together. We hug and hold hands. We sleep in the same bed. Is it wrong of me to assume there is something more than friendship between us? We are acting like a couple." Sanemi: He freezes up for a minute, not responding. His first instinct is to tell Giyuu off, 'How dare you think of me as a fag.' 'What on earth are you talking about.' But he doesn't. Instead he thinks about his words, before responding. "What do you think of our relationship? How would you react if a name was put on it?" Giyuu: He's quiet while he considers, then sighs. "I.. I wouldn't mind the title.. But if you do mind the title, then I think we should try to distance ourselves into a normal platonic relationship, because that is not where we are at right now." Sanemi: He considers Giyuu's words, then softly whispers. "I wouldn't mind the title.. saying we're.. together" Giyuu: He finally looks at Sanemi, then takes Sanemi's hand in his own. "Well, can I say 'I love you' then, Sanemi?" Sanemi: Laughs a little as he turns red in the cheeks. "Maybe give it a day, but sure.." He smiles, still avoiding eye contact with Giyuu; if he met his gaze, he would probably explode. Giyuu: "Alright.." He stands up, letting go of Sanemi's hand as he does, then turns to the door. "I'll be in bed. Take as long as you need." Looks inside and sees as the clock strikes as midnight. "And, I love you.." He says as he walks inside. Sanemi: Laughs "You're a fucking dick, Tomioka!" He smiles fondly at Giyuu's antics, before quietly whispering once Giyuu leaves. "I love you too.."

[luftwaffeinthenight]

austrian painter x fem reader

warnings: SMUT do not read if you do not like smut!!, spanking, penetration ( p in v),

word count: 1568

notes: a long one :D Im tired so if there's a few mistakes that why

enjoy <33

I DO NOT SUPPORT THE IDEOLOGY IN THIS

You had been working as a maid for the fuhrer for around a year now. For which you were very eternally grateful for. Your admiration for the fuhrer ran deep. You truly believed he was the savior therefore you would do anything to serve him to the best of your abilities. Today had started just like any other would ensuring the Berghoff was in pristine condition whilst making sure not to get into the fuhrer's way. You had been cleaning the floors in one of the many rooms in the Berghoff when you approached another maid. She informed you that the fuhrer's study had not been cleaned and it would need to be cleaned immediately. A sense of excitement and nervousness had overwhelmed your body.

You had only been in the fuhrer's study a handful of times and each time you stopped in that room your mind filled with sinful and lewd thoughts. Oh, how you wished he would bend you over the desk while pounding into you. You dreamt of all the different ways he could make passionate love to you. However, you were only a maid who would not stand a chance. You wished you could be his lover, you wished to spend your days by his side, dressed in the finest clothes and at the end of the day would be in bed with him sharing an intimate embrace. As you approached the door to his study you took a deep breath before you were let in.   

You stepped into the study and that's when you saw him in all his glory your dear fuhrer. He grumbled as his gaze moved to your figure obviously displeased with your intrusion. He hated when people interrupted him whilst he was working. You lowered your head before speaking. 

“Apologies my fuhrer for my interruption but i have been informed I must ensure the room is spotless before the guest arrives” You keep your head down as your fingers nervously played with your skirt patiently awaiting a response. He grumbled 

“I suppose you better get on with it then” You lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“yes sir” he scoffed in response before turning back to the papers that lay before him. You made quicker work of dusting the surfaces throughout his study. You tried your hardest not to disturb or irritate him more than you had already, however, this was not to last long as whilst you were wiping a mahogany cabinet you accidentally knocked an ornament over you were immediately filled with dread as the ornament fell to the floor lucky for you it had remained unbroken. With a sigh of relief, you quickly bent down to pick the ornament up placing it in its original position. You turned to look at Adolf before apologising profusely.

“I'm so sorry my fuhrer I did not mean to please forgive me” With a clear sense of desperation in your tone you looked up at his face with an apologetic look on yours. When your eyes met his own you could clearly see his growing irradiation at your presence.

“Be more careful then girl, I've got important work, I don't need careless girls like you disturbing me” he snapped. Fear and melancholy filled your body. You scolded yourself. How could you be so stupid you angered your dear Fuhrer you could be fired and never see him again. Oh, you couldn't bear that he was your everything without him you would be lost. A couple of minutes had passed since the accident. Thankfully things had been going smoothly ever since. However, it wouldn't be long before something else would go wrong. As you walked past his desk to polish the windows behind him you accidentally bumped into the desk causing it to jolt. A look of horror covered your face as you saw the jolt had caused him to mess up the letter he was writing. You were about to open your mouth to apologise again when he abruptly rose from his chair causing it to tip and fall hitting the ground with a loud thud. Fear took over your body as thoughts raced through your mind. This was it you have ruined any chances to carry on working for him. It's all your fault. Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his hands upon you. Your breath hitched as you froze awaiting his next move. Suddenly your body was harshly pushed down on the table. You then felt him reach for the hem of your skirt before bunching it up and yanking down your panties to leave your bare ass exposed. The feeling of cold air upon your ass sent shivers down your body. 

You took a deep breath as his hand brushed against your ass. It was a heavenly feeling almost as if you were dreaming and this was too good to be true. The harsh smack of his hand upon your ass sent waves of pain but also pleasure throughout you. You let out a light groan before he landed another smack upon you. You bit back your moans ashamed at the thought of your fuhrer seeing you enjoy such a punishment. He was no fool; he knew the immense pleasure and thrill you were receiving from this.

“You think it's acceptable to disturb me whilst I'm working girl?” your body tensed as another spank was delivered upon your ass. You let out a small moan before he spanked you once more. This time it was much harsher than the previous smacks. You squeezed your eyes shut as you took a moment to process the situation. He leaned down so that his chest made contact with your back. 

“I think I asked you a question, did I not? Or do you think it's acceptable to ignore your fuhrer” his tone was now more lascivious than irritated. For a brief moment, you panicked as you tried to get words out. However, all you could manage was a shaky 

“No sir” he shook his head before delivering one last smack on your now bruised ass “Fuhrer” he reminded you as you let out a moan before uttering. 

“Sorry, my fuhrer” A pleased look plastered his face as he grabbed your hips quickly flipping you over so that you were facing him. He looked so magnificent and so handsome. His gaze lingered upon your face for a couple more seconds before he dropped down to his knees lifting your legs in the process so that they rested on his shoulders. He quickly shoved his face into your soaking cunt. Immediately his tongue dove into your folds lapping at the juices your body had produced. Pleasure shot through your body as you threw your head back pressing your thighs together around his head. He began alternating between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit. He groaned before sliding a finger into you. You screamed out before grabbing a handful of his hair as you pressed his face to your cunt. He sloppily kissed your clit which was enough to send you over the edge. You were a moaning mess as your orgasm washed over you. 

He rose to meet your gaze once more, licking the remains of your come from around his mouth. He kept making eye contact with you as his hand moved to your chin.

“You're a good girl for your fuhrer aren't you” you weakly nodded as your body was still recovering from your mind-blowing orgasm. As your eyes roamed down his body you saw the obvious erection that was poking through his trousers. He wasted no time in unfastening his trousers to free his aching cock. He spread your legs once more before pushing his cock in. You bit your lip to stop you from screaming as his cock stretched you out. He let out a lengthy groan as he sunk into you pausing for a second to let you adjust to his length. 

“Such a good girl for your fuhrer" he hummed as he squeezed your ass. 

He pulled out of you and then quickly rammed back in letting out a mix of grunts and groans as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his hips allowing him to easily pound in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your passionate lovemaking filled the office. Every time he thrusted into you the desk shook. The papers he once paid close attention to were long forgotten you could feel a knot forming in your stomach as he continued to pound in you, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“Please my fuhrer I'm so close” you mumbled he only grunted in response as he continued to fuck you. Your hips knocked against the desk with every thrust. You felt his thrusts start to falter; you knew he was close too. A few moments later you reached your climax it only took a few thrusts for him to reach his too spilling into you. 

He slowly pulled out of you before tucking his cock back into his pants. Before turning to look at you.

“My guests will be here soon you must go” you nodded before slowly walking to the door which proved difficult due to your shaking legs. As you walked down the hall you felt his come leak out onto your thigh smiling to yourself as you returned to your duties. 

tags:

@meowninii @positivexp @nowisblkassgf @pandoraistired

[eyothings]

Myths of the Realm (spoilers)

Now that we can talk freely about it: What can i say? I think i have been served from the beginning to the end with it.

Not only the best music of the whole raid is the Uldha one, where my wol is born and has lived for many years, but Deryk is none other than her deity Oschon (I knew he was him all along so it was super funny to read his lines when he pretended to be human, especially at the beginning when he tried to avoid the wol as much as possible) and he is the only one who gets to stay - thanks to a monkey (that are my favorite animals) and us (heh) I have been served so well - it even managed to help me unlock some dark areas in my OC lore. As for the Deryk shippers, congrats you've won big time here haha The story is super romantic whether it's platonic or not (On my part i see more Oschon as a big mentor or a brother for my Wol, someone she'll always feel very close to, like a soulmate but not on a romantic level)

For the story, at first i didn't understand why they really wanted to die, they could have accepted their condition as deity and stay with us, but then i realized everything they might have been through all those centuries, not only changing physically but having to deal with weird stories like the whole incest family tree - talk about awkward situations - i believe at some point i'd have wanted to die asap just to keep whats left of my dignity.

I find that very funny that Menphina is the only one who felt the need to clarify her relationship with Oschon, but not Althyk and Nymeia nor Azeyma and Thaliak! (I see what you did there writers!)

Each of the twelves stories were amusing and touching (especially Azeyma TT-TT), and the whole ending made me cry so hard, i think the last time i cried like this was for Elidibus with Pandaemonium story line.

I read people saying that there was no more deities in this world, and i kind of disagree with it, i think the twelves will be back some day - If i understood correctly, they all decided to go back to the aetherial sea but they left behind some benedictions on Etheirys, meaning that, those benedictions will now receive the prayers instead of the twelves - and then i remember the primals and what happened before we board on the ragnarok and it gives me the hint that some day, those benedictions might just take the form of the twelves - Thats only a theory tho I'm also sad, people who have Thaliak and Llymlaen as a deity didn't get the chance to have a private moment with them (it could have been added after the final fight before they left as a special cutscene tho, but at least they added a special line for them, as Oschon did too and it made me cry lol)

Now when it comes to the raid and fight itself: • I think it was way too easy, the final boss really should add more random mechanics that we learned from the first raids • Aglaia was the hardest of them 3, and i really loved the vibes there, especially with Azeyma and Nald, the landscapes were amazing ! • I wish Sharlayan would look more like Thaliak's place too ! • I do love the secret mechanic they added on Llymlaen and seeing people spamming emotes on her • The hardest part of Oschon's fight was to manage to stay focused - This man is so beautiful, thats insane (and his japanese voice is incredible) ↓ This is the manliest mechanic i've ever seen ↓

In conclusion, Myth of the realms is one of the best alliance raid to me (Construct 7 will always stay my favorite boss tho) I'm sad to know that there are no ancient anymore, and i hope Dawntrail will give us an amazing story as profound as what we got from ARR to EW, as much as amazing characters too !

[kenobster]

What can you tell us about the Shadow AU? my interest is piqued

AHHH, thank you anon, I would love to tell you about it.This fic is one I haven't been working on much (and in fact have forbidden myself to work on until after I finish Every Shadow), but one that I've been lusting after nonstop for a few months, haha. And I'm glad you chose this one to ask about because this one has the most convoluted backstory on the planet.

Backstory:

It all starts (montage style) when the Queen of Zygerria dies before she can tell Anakin about the Kadavo system. So they figure out where Obi-Wan & Rex are months later than in canon. Which means Anakin basically goes feral for the rescue campaign. Unfortunately Obi-Wan has already been sold at that point... and Anakin's carnage was great at keeping slaves alive but terrible at preserving any records of whom Obi-Wan might have been sold to. So Obi-Wan is gone. There are no leads. The Jedi are looking!! But they're not finding anything. Nothing can really be done.

So Anakin has a mental breakdown and tries his absolute hardest to get himself expelled from the Jedi Temple. The Jedi Council has concerns about things he confesses, yes, but they're not gonna expel him, lmao. They want to help him. So despite Anakin's attempts to convince them that he is the Worst™, they don't confine him in the Temple, they don't strip him of his Knighthood, and they don't pull him from the army. Anakin, of course, is furious about this—so he pretty much does all of that to himself. He refuses to leave his bedroom, he begs Ahsoka to get a different master (she eventually agrees to save him stress), and he resigns as a General (to which the Council probably accepts on the condition that he gets therapy during his time off or something—they're very worried for him because he's not doing well).

Enter Quinlan, who feels like Obi-Wan would want him to look after Anakin in his time of need. So Quinlan gets the boy to therapy, gets him on antidepressants maybe, and generally helps him come out of the self-loathing spiral. Unfortunately for Quinlan (and despite Quinlan's many objections), Anakin feels that he's in need of a mentor. He starts learning Shadow things, inviting himself to missions, and bullying his way into Quinlan's life. At first, Anakin's only interested in shadow work because it's what Quinlan does... but after awhile, Anakin actually starts to really like it! (Whenever he's not crying on a couch watching sad holodramas and eating chocolate, ofc.)

Cut to like 5 years later (which is probably when the Actual Fic starts.... I still haven't figured out what I'm gonna do structurally because ^^^^ was all backstory but that's like.... a lot of backstory lmao).

Anakin is on a shadow mission with Quinlan and gets dropped off to do part of it on his own (because he's developed an affinity for shadow things and Quinlan trusts him to do the job well). On this mission, by sheer stroke of luck, he encounter Obi-Wan in some random backwater outer-rim area. And actually, I feel like a (very drafty) excerpt from that scene is the best way to describe the Vibes of this AU:

The Durosian moans into the kiss. His hand gropes over Obi-Wan’s trousers, Obi-Wan lets out a small, feeble whimper, and Anakin—he— These feelings you're having aren't for him, kid, Quinlan once told him.  They’d been sitting together, sweat rolling rivers down their faces, and the sparring hadn’t been enough, it was never enough, to drown the blistering coals in Anakin’s chest.  You think they are, but they’re not. They’re for you. And Anakin had thrown his lightsaber across the salle. He’d sprung to his feet and started to yell, hands shaking, ears ringing. He said so many things that day he didn’t mean. Things Quinlan took with an opaque stare, but things Anakin, deep down, knows must have left an impression.  Quinlan had waited for the embers of Anakin’s temper to burn out. He’d waited for Anakin’s hatred to deflate into the persistent misery of what he’d done (what he’d become). Then, when Anakin collapsed onto the bench and started sobbing into his hands, Quinlan had tucked a comforting arm around his shoulders.  You carrying a picture of him in your head, he’d said. A picture of him waiting on Kadavo to be rescued. But when you went to Kadavo to save him, he wasn’t there, remember. He was already gone. This image you’re carrying—it’s a lie you created to handle your guilt. It doesn’t serve him or you, and you need to let it go. Right now, Anakin is picturing a victim. He’s picturing a freshly caught slave terrified of what will be done to him. He’s picturing a version of Obi-Wan in need of rescue, a version of him that is kicking and screaming and crying because—because Anakin needs to rescue him, and kicking, screaming, and crying are things people who need to be rescued do. Anakin forces himself to exhale. Unclench his fingers. Sink into his chair. Obi-Wan is not kicking or screaming or crying. Obi-Wan has been a slave for five years. His palms are pressing defiantly against the weight of the Durosian’s chest, yes, but there’s no sincerity to his strength. His feet are planted somewhat farther apart than normal, and his lips are parted, and if he really wanted to kick and scream and cry, then he would bite down on the tongue ravaging his mouth. It occurs to Anakin in an instant. This isn’t new for him. Obi-Wan has been kissed before. He’s been groped before. He’s been assaulted before. And Anakin could tear their bodies apart, drag Obi-Wan through the station, and stage a cathartic rescue—but it wouldn’t change whatever happened to Obi-Wan yesterday. Or last year. Or the year before. It wouldn’t change what happened on Kadavo. It wouldn’t bring his fantastical image to life. This version of Obi-Wan, the one who is standing in front of him, the one whose body has gone slack and pliant, can handle this—and Anakin needs to trust him to do so.

But anyway so then Anakin covertly and discreetly buys Obi-Wan off the owner (more complicated than that, but whatever lol), and then panic-calls Quinlan, and then the fic is Quinlan & Anakin trying to help a very traumatized and frightened Obi-Wan get better whilst fix-it fic stuff happens.

[racingtoaredlight]

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

Disclaimer: You don't want to read this...it's brutal. I won't take offense if you don't read, but please keep unrelated comments on the Open Thread that will post shortly.

***

This is my 4th attempt at writing something that Willie 100% deserves, but I keep breaking down and I just can't stop crying. I loved him so much, it's just ripping me apart. I loved him so goddamned much.

I was so proud to be his owner. I fucking hate that term, I just don't know what else to use.

I took him everywhere I could. Everywhere he went, he drew people in...this isn't hyperbole, at least once per week I'd be stopped by someone driving and spend a minute or two chatting about him. He was everything I ever wanted in a dog...from his athleticism to his personality to his sense of humor.

Every day I'd get in my car to go home from work, I'd excitedly start my car and say "I'm comin' Willie!" But now he's gone. He's not there to come home to anymore. I walk around my house looking for him and he's just not there.

***

My past four months have been a form of hell, and I've tried really hard not to bring it here...but it's just really hard when that's all you can think about.

I've known my father was going to die since his two heart attacks on the same weekend seven and a half years ago. Those heart attacks happened a month after my beloved grandmother passed away.

I've talked about my issues with manic depression in the past, as well as openly discussed that I've been a danger to myself in the past.

When I was on that edge, my first thought was "if I die, nobody will take Willie, and he'll end his life in a shelter waiting for anyone to adopt him." How could I do that to him again? Despite the shitstorm going on in my brain, even in that state, thinking of him cut through it enough to bring me back.

I don't say this lightly...if it weren't for Willie, I would not be here.

***

My father is in hospice and will likely pass within a week or so. The past four months have featured numerous trips to the ER, doc visits, tests, you name it...pretty much all week, every other week as the doctors kept trying their best to keep a man with a 6% functioning heart and 11% functioning kidneys alive.

The easy parts were running to his place to water his plants. Or coming over in the morning to make him a milkshake while we listen to music. The hard parts have been hanging up the phone or leaving his place, and the first thing that runs through my mind is "will this be the last conversation we ever have?"

The medium hard parts were running to the grocery store or the pharmacy in between meetings. Or preparing him 3 days worth of food in the 45 minutes I had before a guitar lesson. And 1.5 of those days I'd be throwing out the next time I stopped by.

The hardest part was wondering who'd go first.

I never complained about any of this. I'd do it again for the both of them without a conscious thought because I love them both so much. But it wears on you. Month after month does a toll.

***

I've been doing all of this, on top of an insane pace at work, on almost no sleep.

The vet told me to keep a diary of his health throughout all this. You notice a string of bad days, but the first good day and a half and all of the sudden that concern washes away. Keeping a diary allows you to get a relatively objective look at your dog's health, and notice long-term trends.

Unfortuantely...as I've known with my dad's heart condition, sleep is a big factor...I tracked Willie's sleep and got a wonderful look every day at how little I'd gotten over months. Months.

And I knew I lied in the diary. I didn't want to admit to myself that Willie's condition was getting so much worse...even if I couldn't ignore the 8th straight day he'd wake me up before 3am. Let me put it this way...in the last three months, I've had six full nights of sleep. Another 12 of days he woke me up after 3am. Every other day was a 2-3am wakeup call, and three of those days were no sleep at all.

It wasn't as simple as getting up and letting him outside to relieve his fading bladder...the next hours before I went to work were spent comforting him on the couch, as his increasingly weakening heart pounded like hell to circulate enough blood through his system.

He didn't wake me up all those nights because he had to pee...he woke me up all those nights so that I could make him less afraid of his heart feeling like it was drowning due to an edema. He'd get comforted and calm down to sleep just around the time I had to get up and get ready for work.

And every morning, every day I'd come home from work...whenever I'd leave him...there was a simultaneous terror combined with hope that I'd find him having passed away in slumber. A peaceful, painless, natural death.

***

There were so many good memories of our time together, please don't ever suggest that I'm glossing over them. I am at a certain peace...it was his time, it was a wonderful goodbye, and so many of my friends and family have come to his support, that's brought me to tears separately.

He was a special guy, he touched everyone's life that he met. He was wonderful with children, wonderful with others, terrible with other dogs (but you can't win em all).

Those memories will always come back as long as I still have a functioning brain. Right now is so close though, all I can feel is loneliness.

Over the years, I've shared numerous anecdotes of Willie because I was so proud of him that I wanted that joy to be spread to others. But all I can feel is the pain of having lost my best friend.

There's a common refrain "you don't know what you got until it's gone," or some variation of that. I thought I knew what I had in my relationship with Willie...but given this gigantic empty space in my heart, this giant fucking chasm, I somehow underestimated how much he was giving me.

***

The thing that scares me the most about the future isn't losing my father, it's losing a grasp of joy.

Pretty much everyone here knows I struggle deeply with anger issues and have a darker side that I try really hard to keep tamped down. I talked about this with my therapist yesterday before the vet came over...

Willie was always a bulwark against the darker side of my brain coming to the front. Even in my worst moods, where I'm borderline psychotic, even just looking at him would bring me to a calmer, sustainable place psychologically. "Those" days at work? They bothered me less knowing I'd be on the couch chillin' with my big boy in 15 minutes.

As his condition worsened, so did the vet bills and trips. $100 a pop, $450 for an echocardiogram here, $200 dog cardiologist fees, $180 for a Lasix IV there, $150 every month for his heart medication, $50 per month on all the stuff he needed for his arthritis, and it seriously just goes on and on. Thousands and thousands of dollars over the last four months. Nevermind the car trips there and back that wreaked havoc on his heart...

But I would have done fucking anything for this dog. Anything except selfishly keep him alive when he's telling me he just can't anymore...I knew it was the right thing, and I feel like I fucking completely betrayed and failed him, at a time when he needed me the most.

That helpless feeling..."I can't do fucking shit"...I'd find myself at 3am googling "if you love a dog enough will it live forever?" You know the answer. I knew the answer. That's where I'm still at.

***

I should've quit writing this paragraphs ago...I'm just fucking sobbing and this isn't doing me any good. And I can't just talk about the good times, because all I can think of is that those times are gone. Every time I think of something beautiful or joyful, it's immediately poisoned by an onset of sobbing because I miss him so much already.

You all know how much Willie meant to me. I don't have to make the case for that...I loved that dog more than I've loved anything in my life. And I don't give a shit if you think that's sad or immature or lame.

I kept quitting this and coming back because he deserves it. He deserves to be commemorated for the tremendous companion he was...and as much as I'd love to be able to write that piece that makes everyone happy and celebrates him, I just can't write that piece right now. The joyful memories will come when I'm in a healthier state, I'm certain of it.

But I can't keep writing this and just crying all over myself. He deserved a much better eulogy than this, but this is the best that I could do. It feels like I failed him already yesterday and now I feel like I'm failing him again.

Willie was the greatest dog in the world, my best friend, my savior, and adopting him was the single most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. I'll love him forever no matter what. I'm just really hurting right now.

***

During this time, I've been trying to think of something to preserve his memory with what few skills I possess, and I have no idea how to do this or even get it started, but I want to start a non-profit called The Willie Fund where I can link with pit rescues across the country and provide funds for palliative care and dignified, in-home euthenasia for those in their communities that need it. I don't know where to start but I have to do something.

And thank you guys for letting me share Willie with you all these years. I'll be back at some point.

*The pic at the top was taken months ago, not yesterday...it's just my favorite serious picture of the two of us and thought it was a respectful image to remember our relationship by. I loved him so much and I know he loved me too.

[altf4dotwav]

DISPATCH_2

It's sort of common for some people with trauma to say "I wish I never felt ever again," or something to that effect. To never feel an emotion again sometimes would solve almost all of my immediate issues. No more anxiety to disable me. No depressive thoughts. Nothing. I would just float on from one year to the next in ignorant bliss.

I always said that I felt things more intensely than others. One of my best friends is like that too. I remember he was talking about something that really hit him hard and why he reacted the way he did to it. He said, "I'm just a giant pussy," but in a way that meant he owned that. He *is* a giant pussy, like myself, in the way that he is aware that he feels emotions and is effected by them. It was something that I hold onto till this very day. Yeah, I'm a huge giant dripping pussy of emotions. And I'm okay with that. It keeps me from feeling like I never want to experience emotions. It grounds me by reminding me that a person I love dearly can feel the same way as I do sometimes, but they own it and I can too.

Feeling happy is bittersweet. For a long time, I always thought happiness was just a small treat for living life. You got small moments where you're happy, but the rest of life is miserable. And it's hard now to look back and see if I've ever really been happy in my life. I grew up in rough conditions at times and I'm a victim of child abuse. I've been homeless 3 times across the span of my life. I didn't date until I was 19. I've tried to end my own life too many times to count. How do I feel like I could ever be happy if all I've ever known is the worst possible outcome besides death?

What happens when your brain can manufacture that feeling of happiness? How do you know that the joy you're feeling is real or just a symptom?

Mania is a terrifying force while also, ironically, being one of the best feelings in the world. It's almost euphoric. You laugh the hardest at all the jokes and feel uplifted and motivated. There isn't a drug in the world that'll make you feel as good as pure Mania does. You're invincible.

But you're also irrational, easily angered, mean, impulsive. It only takes a small transgression to switch to a Monster. You lash out and hurt others desperately to bring them down to the near bedrock that is your level. You fall off the top of the mountain into a ravine. You end up in a broken pile of anger and impulsive thoughts at the bottom.

YOU MADE ME DO THIS LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO THIS IS YOUR FAULT I DID THIS BECAUSE OF YOU BLAME GAME

My Word document closes and the Transmission application pops up in its place. OUT is in grey but IN is pulsing slowly, begging me to click on it. I do and I'm taken to an MSN email box. A single email greets me with the title CLAIM YOUR FREE GIFT!!!!!!!! The mouse cursor hovers over it, my instincts screaming at me to exit out of the window. I click it anyway. There's only one sentence in the body of the email:

EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THE DAY, IT CANNOT ALWAYS BE NIGHT

I look up from the monitor of the computer, startled by the woosh of a fireplace coming to life suddenly from across The Room. The bright orange and yellow light of the dancing flames have lit up The Room enough so I can see its entirety.

It's a bare room with only the desk, my chair, the fireplace, and a picture of a helicopter hanging completely square on the wall opposite from the desk. Under the picture is a sturdy dark wooden door. The handle is gone and a bar welded across the middle let me know the door is basically decoration at this point. The walls are a pale eggshell white with tiny cracks near the top, spiderwebbing out upwards towards the black and infinite chasm of what should be a roof. The Room is small and circular like I'm at the top of a lighthouse, only the windows have been walled over by a slumlord.

A Jenga puzzle of old but pristine wooden planks make up the floor. The old wood had warped and settled over decades, creating small canyons between some boards. By the fireplace, I notice a big cardboard box labelled "TO HELIPORT" stamped on the side is now visible. For the first time since I've been aware of this Room, I feel compelled to get up to see what is inside the cardboard cube.

I'm not even aware of how I got to the box by the time I'm standing in front of it; as if an edit was made between me getting up from the chair and walking a short distance.

The top of the box has a fine layer of dust on it and is sealed with clear packing tape. A box cutter is sitting on top of the tape, taunting me. I feel my heart pick up as my hands start to shake. What is going on? Why am I scared?

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID 3 TIMES YOU FAILED EVERY TIME NOW YOU'RE ONLY LEFT WITH SCARS OF EMBARASSMENT MARKINGS OF WEAKNESS LINES OF SHAME YOU BLAMED IT ON HER YOU ARE A MONSTER

With the swipe of a hand, I slap the knife into the fire off the top of the box like I was angrily shooing away a fly. The knife flies off the box and lands directly into the fireplace with a burst of embers as it hit the logs. Dust flies up into the air in the aftermath like dull glitter celebrating my beautiful display of hand-eye coordination. Pride washes over me, not only for eliminating this perceived threat of the knife, but also by the aim of the swat. I do a small fist pump.

I realize now that I'm also anxious about the contents of this box. Gently grabbing the sides, I try to lift the box slowly to judge its weight. To my surprise, the box is very light and feels like it's completely empty, but the feeling of something small and flat sliding around told me otherwise.

I set the box down and push the sides in that are at each end of the stretch of tape holding the box together. As both sides come in, it creates enough space for my finger to get in and rip the tape off cleanly. My hands have done this many times and I didn't even realize it was happening until I set the box down.

Dust swirls around in the light of the fireplace as I look at the cardboard square in front of me. I lift the flaps up to find a small electronic device sitting at the bottom. It's black and square with a small screen taking up the top third of the body. A circle dominates the last two thirds under the screen. On the top is a tiny switch on one side and a hole on the other with a wire plugged into it that splits off in two at the end.

It was an iPod.

The metal back of the mp3 player was cold in my hands as I picked it up. The headphones dangled like stiff and dirty strands of hair while I stared at the electronic device in my hand.

This is Mine.

I push the middle of the circle pad and the screen glows to life. My hands know exactly what to do with the iPod as my thumb scrolls through the system to find out what is on this thing. I get to the Artists section and scroll through a list of bands that activate the pleasure centers of my brain. It felt like I scrolled for a lifetime by the time I got to the end. Nothing stood out to me so I went back to see if there were any videos.

There was only one file labeled "themanwhosoldtheworld.mp4" in the Videos folder. This can be either a killer David Bowie song Past Me must have loved or another bit of information on just what the fuck is going on here. I make sure to check out the earbuds to see if they're nasty, and put them into my ears. With a satisfying *click* of the middle button, the video starts playing on the tiny screen.

Static of white noise and the bustle of people could be heard. It looked like the video was shot in a supermarket. The camera pans down, looking into a large, long freezer of various frozen bags of food. Suddenly, the camera stops and whips upwards to a woman's face. The camera person shouts excitedly, "FWENCH FWIES??" to which the woman responds just as excited with "FWENCH FWIES?!?!?!?!" Her face immediately gives me goosebumps, in a good way. She loves me.

Cut to black

A new video starts

The camera is pointing towards a sliding glass door and still. Behind the glass is a wooden porch where two people sit on stools, Me and another man. The porch is elevated, meaning we're on the second floor. We're both dressed in basketball shorts and hoodies on a beautiful fall day. I have a bong in my hand while we're both laughing. There's a cat in a hammock stuck to the glass by suction cups. A dog sits between Me and My Friend, her face blank with pure joy as she looks between us. My heart swells with emotion as my entire relationship with this man flashes before me. These images flick by on the screen for just moments, but I recognize every one of them. Us hugging on a porch while My Friend cries on my shoulder. In a van with desolate winter flying past us as we talk about everything. A kitchen of a fast food restaurant bustles with movement as the two of Us work back to back, talking shit to each other. Us together at a concert, singing in tandem with our other friends to every song. He's the first person who made me feel valuable in my existence. This person also loves me.

Cut to black

THIS IS WHAT MATTERS HOW CAN YOU GIVE THIS UP HOW COULD YOU EVEN TRY THIS IS LIFE AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU'RE HERE

I pull the earbuds out of my ears and look up. I'm back in the chair at the computer and my head feels like it's made of clam chowder. There's an immense pressure behind my forehead as my vision goes black.

My eyes open and I realize I'm facedown on the keyboard with drool leaking out of my mouth. I groan and blink my eyes for a few moments, realizing I don't have enough strength to lift my head or straighten my back to get off this keyboard. Hell, I can't even lift my arms up from dangling next to me like wet noodles. Even if I could, there's no way I could muster the power to push myself off the desk. Tears drip out of my eyes as I feel helpless and weak slouched over the computer. I understand what's happening after a moment and I settle in as I wait for the strength to come back to my body. I'm left with my thoughts the entire time and wish I never felt anything ever again.

The computer makes a short error noise that startles me out of my haze. I drag my eyes up to see if anything has changed on the monitor since I last checked. There's a Word document open that says:

GET TO WORK WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW WHEN YOU'RE DONE HIT SAVE DISPATCH WILL RELAY MESSAGE GOOD LUCK CHOOSE LIFE

A new document opens with the file name Dispatch_2 and a prompt at the top of the clean white digital page:

Have you ever felt happy?

I smile and laugh at how ironic this prompt is as I slowly lift my head up from the keyboard. A snail trail of slobber followed my face up as I fix my posture in the chair to be upright. After a lot of groans and heavy breathing, I'm able to put myself into a position to type.

And I start writing what I know.

It's sort of common for some people with trauma to say "I wish I never felt ever again," or something to that effect.

[yamanorakuen]

HC: Hanahaki Disease [Brothers]

Just so you all know, I'm still only in the second season in the actual game, but I've been ITCHING to write something Obey Me! -related. So here's my first attempt in writing Obey Me! -headcanons.

Side characters vers.

Warnings: Angst, illness, death.. Also some spoilers about the first season.

Lucifer had the hardest time figuring out what he felt towards you was love. Love was a rather foreign concept to him, he hadn't spared much thought to such a tricky emotion before.

But there you were, bringing him coffee when he was working, keeping him company whenever he yearned for it, listening to his troubles and complaints, making a visible change with his brothers.. How could he not become intrigued?

When he started coughing up amaryllis petals, he was taken by surprise; but he wasn't clueless. He wasn't sure what the petals signified, but he was going to do some research on it.

He did his best to hide his condition; he wasn't one to display any signs of weakness or vulnerability. Not in front of his brothers, not in front of his boss and especially not in front of you.

But it started to become increasingly difficult to hide it once the coughing fits became more frequent, the petals grew in size and some blood started to spill out of his lungs.

One day he was having tea and conversing with Lord Diavolo and Barbatos when a coughing fit caught him by surprise. He tried to get up and make a run for it, but ended up coughing up bloodied flower petals in front of his boss and his boss' butler..

Diavolo and Barbatos exchanged worried glances before Diavolo cleared his throat.

"Oh.. I'm sorry my Lord, where are my manners.." Lucifer quickly apologized and started to clean up the petals with a napkin, utterly embarrassed.

"Please, just sit down. Babratos can clean it up." Diavolo smiled slightly at his friends and nodded to the butler. Without saying a word, Barbatos began to clean up Lucifer's mess. Lucifer had no choice but to sit back down.

"So.. It seems like our Luci is in love, eh?" Diavolo tried to lighten up the mood with a laugh, but no one laughed with him. Clearing his throat again, his expression turned serious now, "It's about MC, right?"

"... Yes, my Lord." Lucifer admitted with a burdened sigh. He really did not feel comfortable discussing this with his boss.

"I see.." Diavolo nodded and fumbled for words, "I suspect you have something called Hanahaki Disease.." Diavolo trailed off, unable to finish the explanation to Lucifer who was looking up at him curiously. When Barbatos saw Diavolo didn't have it in himself to explain it to Lucifer, he bit the bullet and finished Diavolo's story for Lucifer.

Lucifer was quiet for a long while. So his feelings for MC were unrequited? But why..? After all the attention MC had given him, they didn't even like him back? Lucifer felt like his pride had been mortally wounded from the information.

"How do I get rid of it? You mentioned something about a surgery if I'm not mistaken? Where do I get it?" Lucifer asked, his voice cold.

"Don't you want to fight for them, Lucifer? I've never seen you feel like this towards anyone else.. Are you just willing to throw it away like that?" Diavolo asked almost nervously.

"What's the point? If MC doesn't love me now, there's no guarantee they ever will. Furthermore, this illness is keeping me from work." Lucifer explained, his whole body tense. Diavolo and Barbatos yet again exchanged meaningful looks. They both understood that those words were coming from a place of hurt rather than anger.

"Well, if you're sure that's what you want.. I can take care of it." Babratos assured Lucifer. Lucifer just nodded before quickly getting up.

"I.. I have a few things to take care of. I need to be alone, if you would please excuse me, My Lord?" Lucifer requested from Diavolo who granted Lucifer his leave.

Lucifer returned to the House of Lamentation, still slightly unsure whether he really wanted surgery, but he also knew him falling ill would be an inconvenience to everyone around.

In the end, he did undergo surgery, his feelings for MC now gone. Although the petals were no longer a problem, the surgery did little to make Lucifer feel better about the whole ordeal, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth about love and opening up his heart to anyone ever again.

Mammon had been desperately falling for you since day one, and that really wasn't a surprise to anyone with working eyes or ears.

The last people to know this were you.. and Mammon himself. Well, maybe you had had an idea of Mammon's feelings, but were refusing to acknowledge them because..

You had a boyfriend back in the human world. A boyfriend you were loyal to, and no surprise exchange year and being surrounded by hot demons was an excuse to stray from your loyalty.

Mammon knew about your boyfriend, you had shown him pictures of him and told him so many stories about him. So he was well aware that you were taken.

So when he finally realized what he felt for you was more than friendship, he chose to keep those emotions to himself. No matter how greedy he usually was, this time he decided to let it go. He just wanted you to be happy, that's all.

But holding all his love in was more painful and difficult than he thought it would be. It was constantly pouring from the cracks of his words, spilling from the way he looked at you, as if a stormy sea was welling up inside his heart.

Eventually all of his love seemingly manifested as small white petals of forget-me-nots.

Those petals Mammon kept coughing up terrified him. What was the meaning of them? Had some witch hexed him? He went through every witch he had made a pact or a deal with but none of them seemingly knew what he was talking about.

That was until one of the witches told him that while she wasn't responsible for the symptoms, she knew what was going on with him.

Mammon practically begged the witch to tell him and cure him of the haunting petals. The witch shook her head as she explained what Hanahaki disease was and what the treatment options were. She could not offer any help to Mammon.

Mammon nearly teared up after hearing the news. His undying love for MC was behind his sickness? And the only way to cure it was either making MC fall for him or undergoing a surgery?

Mammon knew choosing the surgery would be for the best.. That way he wouldn't hurt anymore, and you wouldn't get hurt if you never knew.. But at the same time, he didn't want to forget his love for you. He had only figured them out, but in his heart it felt like he had loved you for forever. Like loving you was an essential part of his being.

He left the witch's place with a heavy heart, contemplating his next move. Demons can't die from something like this.. Right?

As weeks went by, his symptoms grew worse. It got to the point he barely had the energy to get up from his bed, let alone plan any money making schemes. Yet he refused to give in.

He honestly thought he was going to die from the disease, until one night, you stormed into his room, tears streaming down your face.

Even though he was weak, Mammon gathered all his strenght to sit up and catch you into his open arms.

You told Mammon how your boyfriend had dumped you over text. He had said that the distance was too much for him and that he had found someone else already.

Mammon felt conflicted; both sad for you but also happy and slightly hopeful.. He just held you in his arms, whispering encouraging words and sweet nothings into your ear, running his hand through your hair until you fell asleep.

After that night, slowly but surely, his symptoms started to lessen. The coughing fits became less frequent and the petals seemed to diminish in size..

Until they stopped completely. It took Mammon a good while to realize that that meant. Actually, he only realized it one day when you had taken the initiative and had kissed him.

Mammon was so beyond happy. He had never before in his life felt so lucky.

Leviathan had never thought he would find someone so understanding, kind, thoughtful and perfect as you. You were always willing to listen to his ramblings, you never once shamed him and his shut-in ways, you shared his joy in his nerdy hobbies.. So even if you were a normie in his eyes, you were his normie.

When he started to cough up yellow hyacinth petals, he already knew. Of course he knew. This was such a popular anime trope! He has seen this film behore and he did not like the ending.

Of course you wouldn't return his affections. And that's alright. He was just a yucky otaku, and you had your choice of demons, humans and angels. For him, having you in his life was enough.

That's what he kept telling himself, hoping that the symptoms would just disappear with time, but they only got worse.

Leviathan began to distance himself from you as much as he could even if it pained him. He didn't want to suffer or die; but he didn't want to forget his love for you either. So he tried to hide away and hoped he'll get over it.

Of course you noticed what he was doing; not inviting you over to his room anymore, keeping his texts short or ignoring them altogether, avoiding your gaze whenever you ran into each other..

But every time you attempted to bring up the topic with him, he would blush, stammer an apology and run away.

This greately upset you. You just wanted your best friend back. So you persisted, making it your mission to find out the reason for his weird behavior.

So one day you appeared behind his door completely out of the blue, uninvited. You were just about to open the door when you heard something alarming coming from the other side. You heard Leviathan pretty much coughing his lungs out.

You quickly swung the door open and ran to your poor friend, who was sitting in his bathtub while hugging his legs close to his body, coughing up yellow petals and blood.

Levi was absolutely horrified when he realized you had found him in the middle of one of his coughing fits. He tried to get up, blushing furiously, but fell back on his butt with a squeak.

You demanded to know what was going on.. And Levi had no choice but to admit to everything. With a shaky voice and avoidant eyes, he revealed the illness' name and meaning to you, preparing himself mentally for a harsh rejection.

Instead he was met with silence. Normally he's used to silence, but this silence seemed so loud and obnoxious.. Levi gathered all his courage to meet your eyes, just wanting you to finish him already.

After your eyes met, you finally spoke: "But Levi.. If that illness only takes place with unrequited love.. Why are you sick?" you questioned queitly.

"H-Huh? What do you m-mean?!" Levi gasped, his amber eyes wide with utter surprise.

"Levi.. I love you too. Didn't you know?" You confessed, your cheeks turning into a wonderful shade of red.

"WHAAAT?! But-" Levi began to yell before he felt it. His lungs were free, no longer like a bed of flowers. Before he could speak again, you took his face into your hands gently.

"Levi.. Did you reject yourself?" You laughed, clearly humored by Levi's animated reactions, "Did you convince yourself I couldn't possibly like a yucky otaku like you so you developed the symptoms?"

"I..." Levi didn't know what to say. Of course that was what he had thought! Why would you ever.. But wait, you just did..!

!!!!

"I love you, silly. Just accept it already." You giggled as you rested your forehead against his, a soft look in your eyes.

"I.. I love you too, my Henry.." Levi mumbles barely audibly, avoiding your curious gaze.

For all of his long life, the main emotion Satan has ever felt was wrath. Anger. Just bubbling below the surface, ready to take over at any given moment. Such is the life of the Avatar of Wrath. He absolutely resented it, and that only made him so much more angry.

But something in his world shifted when you walked into his angry and miserable life. Slowly but surely, Satan began to see a change in his behavior and feelings. It took him a while to realize what had happened, and when he did, he was already too deep in to back down anymore.

For the first time in forever, his wrath was replaced by infatuation. Was this what it felt like to be Asmodeus? Probably not quite. While he wanted you, YEARNED for you, his love for you was also much more pure and sweet.

Satan honestly thought he was doing a great job at courting you, doing everything a gentleman should. He honestly thought you might feel the same way about him, until one fateful evening..

You two were just reading together in silence when your D.D.D. pinged. Instinctively Satan glanced at the lit up screen when he saw something that made his blood boil.

It was a message from Lucifer. Thanking you for your lovely time at the date and asking if he can take you to another date next weekend.

Furiously, Satan whipped to look at your face as you picked up your phone and read the message yourself. But his anger subsided when he saw how soft and gentle the smile on your face was. You looked so lovestruck, so blissful.. Satan just couldn't unleash his blazing anger after witnessing how angelic you had just looked.

So he did his best to cover up his anger and return to his book.. Until he had to excuse himself, making a run for it to the bathroom.

He threw up rose petals into the toilet, a horrified expression forming on his face. What was the meaning of this?!

After you had left his room, Satan began his quest to research the weird symptoms. When he figured out the cause of the petals, he found himself grow angrier and angrier yet again.

He was angry at you for choosing Luficer over him. He was angry at Lucifer for taking you away from him. But even more than that, he was angry at himself for having been so foolish and careless, for allowing himself to fall for a human like that.

Although in a way all this was weirdly romantic, it was as if Satan was actually a part of a romance novel.. Although he didn't like where the story was heading.

It was only a matter of time before it all blew up, knowing Satan. While Satan was mostly able to keep the anger to himself, the worse the symptoms grew, the more furious he got.

One day Satan had witnessed you and Lucifer exchange a good night kiss before you went to your room and he just lost his mind. He secretly followed Lucifer to his room before absolutely blowing up at him. He kept shouting, yelling and breaking things in his unleashed fury, refusing to calm down before the familiar feeling of suffocating creeped in.

His emerald eyes widened in shock as he tried to make his way out of the room.. But he could barely make it a few steps before he began to violently cough up the petals, alerting Lucifer, all his previous disdain disappearing.

Satan knelt down to the ground, coughing and scraping at his throat. Lucifer knelt down next to him, holding onto Satan so he wouldn't fall over.

When that particularly awful coughing fit ended, Lucifer demanded to know what was going on. Satan refused to tell at first, but Lucifer kept insisting until he had to give in and regrettably reveal his innermost feelings to Lucifer.

Lucifer listened, his expression unreadable, just nodding along.

"Satan.. I didn't know you felt that way towards MC," Lucifer spoke up after Satan had finished his rant, "if I had know, I wouldn't have approached MC. But I love them too, Satan. What do you want me to do?"

Satan thought about it for a moment. It was a battle between his heart and his brain: "At first I wanted to hate you both. Then I wanted you to leave them. But then I realized how much that would hurt MC.. I don't want to see them heartbroken. And even if you leave them, it doesn't guarantee that they will run into my arms next, or ever even.." Satan smiled sadly, "But Luficer.. I'm so scared." He finally admitted, his voice breaking.

"What are you scared of?" Luficer questioned, his hand on Satan's shoulder, reassuring.

"What if I never feel this way again? What if this was the only time I could feel some emotion other than wrath? I don't want to go back to the time before I knew love.." Satan explained with a small voice. And even though Lucifer could be quite heartless and sadistic at times, he still felt for his brother.

Whether you undergo the surgery or not is your own choice. I won't force you to take it. I can't promise you anything either." Lucier sigh, mulling over the issue in his head before a thought popped into his head. It was a thought that normally would've disgusted him, one he would've been completely against.. But this time it seemed more plausible than ever before, "Hey Satan, how do you feel about.. Sharing MC?"

It was another night partying it up with Asmodeus at the club. Yet another night watching him grind his hips against many succubi and incubi, watching him flirt away and exchange sultry glances with the other partygoers. But none of those touches, words or looks were directed at you.

The sight of his roaming hands of some stranger's hips was enough to make you feel sick. You ran towards the bathrooms, tears welling in your eyes and you found it difficult to breathe.

However, when you tried to throw up, only small petals of daisies came out. Panicked, you kept coughing them up, clawing at your throat.

When it finally ended, you just laid down in the bathroom stall, unable to move in your frightened state. You kept mulling over your predicament, unable to find the answers you needed.

When you finally gathered yourself together and left the bathrooms, you realized Asmo had already left. Probably with someone. Anxiety washed over you as you imagined was he was up to at this very moment..

You didn't want to go back to the House of Lamentation, so you texted Solomon if you could stay over at Purgatory Hall. Lucky for you, he replied almost immediately and accepted your offer graciously.

While you were talking with the sorcerer, you decided to ask him about your symptoms. Maybe it was related to magic? Maybe you were cursed or hexed? Maybe he could fix it?

The sorcerer shot you a forlorn smile: "This is about Asmo, isn't it?" he asked, surprisingly serious.

"Huh?" You questioned, completely lost.

"I'm afraid you have something called Hanahaki disease. It's a disease that appears with unrequited love. I've seen how you look at Asmo.. You love him, don't you?" Solomon shook his head apologetically.

His words made your heart break ever so slightly. Obviously you had had a feeling that Asmo doesn't return your feelings, but hearing it just like that from Solomon stung.

Solomon lays down your options; either you have a surgery performed on you which causes you to forget about your feelings towards Asmodeus, you get him to love you back or you die.

You straight up refused the surgery; you didn't want to forget. You loved love, being in love and you loved Asmo. There was no way you could give it all up, as stupid as it sounds.

So you clung to the delusional hope that maybe, just maybe, Asmo would learn to love you too if you tried hard enough.

The next two months were torture. Your symptoms kept getting worse and you spent all your free time trying to impress Asmodeus. You kept telling yourself that if you become prettier, funnier, sexier and more compliant, Asmodeus would notice what's right in front of him.

Nothing changed, however. He still kept flirting with others, kept bringing demons back to his room, kept partying and kept treating you like a friend.

Solomom tried to force you to confess to Asmo, but you knew it wouldn't change a thing, so you just decided to save yourself from the embarrassment.

One fateful evening, you were about to leave to Restaurant Six with the brothers when the all so familiar feeling hit you again. But this time, you couldn't even make it to the bathroom before throwing up blood-stained petals. The world in front of you turned black momentarily as you hit the ground, feeling dizzy.

Que horrified shrieks and shouts from the brothers; Lucifer started to dial to Diavolo and Asmo was holding your weak form as Levi spoke up. He explained the disease to the rest of the brothers and one by one, realization dawned on their faces as they offered you sympathetic smiles.

Satan started to dial a doctor. Maybe the surgery could still be performed..

Asmodeus was the last one to understand what was going on, surprisingly. But when he did, his eyes widened as tears started to stream down his face and he held you tighter.

"MC.. Don't die on me! You can't leave me! I... I'll learn to love you if you just stay with me! I'm sure I can! I'll stop sleeping around, I'll be the best boyfriend you'll ever have.. Just let me prove it to you!" Asmo cried, his body shaking.

You couldn't help but smile sadly, "B-But you don't love me now, d-do you..? Silly A-Asmo, you can't force l-love... And t-that's okay.. T-thank you for letting me love you.." You laughed breathlessly before coughing up even more flowers. You could barely breathe.

Those were your last words before everything fell quiet. You were no longer in pain or suffocating, but you were also gone. Just like that, it was all over.

After your death in his arms, Asmodeus went through a couple different phases; times when he completely abstained from flings, staying in his room instead of partying, just sleeping days away. Other times he would go out and party wilder than even before, sleep with even more demons than before and drink till he forgets you, your death, his name and his sorrow.

Beelzebub was just perfect. He wasn't only handsome, strong and cute, but also extremely kind, sweet, affectionate and protective. He was perfect boyfriend material! So it was no surprise when you realized you had fallen for the Avatar of Glutton.

And you really thought you stood a chance by the way he treated you. He was always nice to you, found excuses to hang out with you, offered you hugs and cuddles and even shared his precious food with you! Aren't those all positive signs?

Or so you thought before one day as you were cuddling on the couch, watching a movie together, Beel sighed happily and exclaimed: "You're like a sibling to me. You've really become part of the family, you know?"

Those words sent you head spiraling and your throat welled up. You shot up from the couch and ran off, leaving the astounded demon behind.

You made it to your room, locked the door and fell to the ground before coughing up some Zinnia petals. Horrified, you stared at the petals on the floor. Did those just come out of your lungs?! Had you eaten something weird?!

Little did you know, this would become a recurring occurrence. Every time Beel tried to be nice to you, the suffocating feeling would return and you had to make a run for it. And knowing Beel, he was nice often.

You almost wished he was meaner to you. Maybe then you would hurt less.

In an attempt to avoid Beelzebub, you found yourself taking asylum in Leviathan's room. Leviathan was chill to be around with; he didn't bother you, you didn't bother him; you just watched anime together or you watched him play his games. Not many unnecessary words were exchanged as Levi seemed to sense your sullen mood.

One time when you were watching anime, you saw it. Some anime character throwing up petals in a similar fashion to you. The revelation made you tense up.

You quickly forced Levi to explain everything he knew about this phenomena, almost frantic. Poor Levi shared his knowledge, not fully understanding your passionate reaction to such a common trope.

From Levi, you learnt you had only a few choices; suffer and risk dying, try and make Beel love you back or undergo a surgery.

After much contemplation, you formed a plan; you would confess your feelings to Beelzebub. There was a big chance this would backfire on you, but you were almost certain Beel would let you down easy and respect you for letting him know.

From that, there were two ways it could go; either Beelzebub returns your affections or he doesn't and you go and have that darned surgery.

Confessing your feelings to your crush is never easy, especially after they've called you their sibling, but you somehow managed to do it.

Beelzebub was taken aback by your confession, having not expected it. You watched as his cheeks turned pink, waiting for his answer anxiously.

"MC, I... I don't know what I feel... I always saw you as part of the family, but now... I'm not sure whether my feelings for you are platonic or not. I know I care about you a lot, I just don't..." Beel struggled with his words, a lost look in his eyes.

"I don't have much time, Beel, I either need you to be sure about your feelings to me or I have to undergo this surgery that will remove my romantic feelings for you.. If I don't, I'll die.." You sigh, your heart was aching but you knew this was the only way.

"No!" Beelzebub suddenly shouted, surprising you, "I mean.. I don't want you to.. Die.. And well.. I don't want you to forget about me, either.." Beel mumbled, looking at the ground.

Beel, look, it's alright if you don't love me. I understand. But if you don't, just tell me so I can cure myself." You try to explain it to him one more time.

"But.. I do love you, MC! A lot! It's just difficult for me to differentiate these feelings.. But I think.. I think I love you." He finally admits, taking your hands into his large hands. He's warm.

And while you were suspicious of his words, you decided to wait for a few days to test it out.

Much to your surprise, you never once coughed up flower petals again. He really did love you back, even if he sometimes struggled to show how deep his feelings exactly ran.

Belphegor didn't know how you did it. How you had managed to forgive him, become friends with him and eventually find your way into his heart. Your very presence made him feel genuinely happy and hopeful for the first time since Lilith's death. And he cherished those emotions you made him feel.

Honestly, it took him a while to notice that anything was wrong. He kept coughing up anemone petals in his sleep, waking up with random petals on his pillow. At first he thought someone was bring him flowers, pranking him or that he was simply dreaming it.

Only when he started to cough them up while he was awake did he get alarmed. He didn't fully understand what was going on, but he had a bad feeling about it.

Belphegor ignored it at first, too lazy to do anything about it, hoping it would just go away.

But the problem persisted and got worse. The coughing fits were becoming so frequent and violent he would wake up from them in pain. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide it from everyone.

The answer came to him in his dream; in this dream, Belphegor was in a large library in the human world as an old tome caught his attention. As if transfixed, he walked up to the book and opened it, the words "Hanahaki" and "Disease" catching his attention.

Belphegor read the chapter on Hanahaki disease as the realization dawned on him. He was in love with you but you did not reciprocate his feelings and this could be fatal.

Knowing you didn't love him hurt, but he also felt like he deserved this heartbreak after everything he had put you through. Maybe this is his chance to prove himself and to cleanse himself. Maybe this was his catharsis.

So when he woke up, he decided to do nothing about it. Maybe if you saw all the pain he went through for you, you would actually forgive him and maybe even learn to love him. Or at the very least, maybe Belphegor could finally forgive himself.

But it didn't go like that. Belphegor's illness kept getting worse but his guilt remained the same.

Around that time, Beelzebub started to realize something was wrong with his twin and decided to confront him.

Belphegor, not wanting to lie to his dear twin brother, admitted to everything. Beelzebub, understandingly, was horrified, and told Belphie to accept the surgery.

At first Belphie refused but stopped in his tracks when he saw Beel breaking down. Beel was shaking and crying, holding onto Belphie's shoulders with a strong, desperate grip.

"Belphie.. Please.. I know you love MC, but.. I can't bare to lose you.. I already lost Lilith.. Losing you.. I don't know how I could go on.." Beel kept hiccuping, his low voice trembling.

Seeing Beelzebub like that made Belphie reconsider his choice. He had a long discussion about it with Beelzebub before he decided to undergo the surgery. Just for his twin.

After the surgery, Beel was happy again. Belphegor.. Didn't feel much anything at all. Life was back to being bleak and dull; nothing seemed to interest him anymore. He still treated you the same, but his actions were lacking certain warmth that was there before whether you noticed it or not. At least Beel was happy, he kept telling himself.

A/N: Hello if you made it this far! Please let me know which one was your favorite or the saddest one in your opinion :) I hope you liked my post and that the brothers weren't completely ooc.

[madebybulan]

I shudder at remembering the unsettling sight of another soul being taken. Standing behind the familiar yellow lines that indicate only a few can pass, I gaze as the forensic scientists carefully clean and collect the details of the crime scene. Their light coloured gears stick like a sore thumb in the night under the LED light.

I gently massage my temple at the sudden headache that arises as I focus on problems after examining the crime scene before.

Large gashes of wound indicating killed by another animal with a resisting victim. Broken neck, large scratches on the chest, and an almost completely broken skull.

A warm hand is placed onto my shoulder that made me flinch in surprise, making these thoughts momentarily wither.

"Usually people will leave you be as you began to ponder," He gives a soft worrying smile. "But as a friend, it's better if you settle this in your office."

Rosario and I entered the police force unexpectedly together — in which I have no recollection of — I didn't plan on becoming a friend of him even when both of us were assigned to the same station in a small town together. Everything should be done professionally, efficiently, I don't want a friend in a dangerous workplace. I won't be able to keep them safe by then.

Rosario, however, wanted none of the distance I've placed between us. His actions of approach were kind, he listened and understood where I came from unlike most who challenge my place as a new detective. I have to admit, the bastard has made me soft for him.

I give a deep frown at his words. "Way to break my trance Marín."

He chuckles lightly at my growl. "Sorry, but your presence is rilling them up." He jabs a thumb behind him were the commotion that I've tried hard to ignore only grows louder by the minute. "They won't leave until you leave too."

He has a point at least. Also has a much nicer way telling me to get out.

"Right," I mutter.

I gently massage my temple again from the throbbing headache that makes me grit my teeth. A migraine?

The familiar look of concern immediately appears on his face as he notices my reaction, softening his sharp features. Always the mother hen of the group. "Do you need pills for that?"

"I'm fine." I snap before giving a deep sigh to compose myself. "It's just...I'm fine okay? I'll settle it eventually like I always do." I give a dismissal wave.

Rosario only gives a small smile. "I don't doubt that at all."

I give him a friendly pat on the arm as a sign of appreciation, awkwardly so but Rosario doesn't point it out. "But thank you. For worrying." The words are harder to come out of my mouth than I thought, almost a mutter in the noise.

His eyes soften at my gesture. "Of course, anything for a friend."

"Stop calling me friend, we're not friends." I jokingly added.

He only laughs at my response.

• • •

The station is dark as expected. It's two in the morning once what needs to be settled at the crime scene has been done and coming here using my car. I let my hand run down my scalp with a deep exhale, fingers in between short strands, obviously frustrated but unsurprised for working late night again.

Aimlessly wandering towards my office within the darkness is easy enough after knowing the workings within.

As I unlock the door, my whole body tenses to see a shadowy figure looming within the room and on my chair. The moon casting the shape of the humanely figure, expectedly waiting with an attentive gaze watching my every move on what I'll do next.

I switch on the light and glower when I get a clearer view of who it is.

"Sister."

"Associate." She quips.

Then she tilts her head with a smirk forming on her mouth. "Maybe I should call you Detective instead? That'll swell your pride no?"

I try my best not to break a vein trying to deal with her. I close the door behind my back for some privacy, I don't need another problem arising from this sudden visit.

"Firstly, stop entering my office like it's some damn love hotel."

She picks her nose and flicks the booger across the room, purposely irking me as I try my hardest to not strangle her neck.

"Secondly, I don't appreciate you or this work you've been assigned to when you came here." I glare at the condition she's in with arms crossed.

From where I stood she merely wears my overcoat that I've left in the office with nothing underneath. Her dark hair unsightly, containing dark dried liquids that crisp her hair in place and a face covered in splatters of it.

She places both feet on my desk, I grimace at the sight of the sole of her feet as the excess what was stuck on it fall onto the old wood.

"Took you a while to get back here, I'm almost dried off." She hums.

My brows furrowed deep, only enhancing the lines between them. "Can't you just tell me why the hell are you killing people in the town? Look, I get it's the whole damn pact you've made with your doggy clan—"

"Werewolf pack." She corrects me with an eyebrow raised.

I ignore the correction. "—But why in the hell is murder involved? I can't keep you under wraps for too long!"

There's mischief glinting in her eyes at my question, as if expecting and glad I said it aloud. "Then why don't you throw me behind bars? That'd be easy won't it sister?"