#i dont know if this fic is coherent but i hope it is

[bugb1t35]

Sebastian solace x reader

Summary: What happens if you give a suicidal person the ability to come back from death time and time again, completely ok? Physically at least. Sebastian doesn't want to know.

Trigger warnings and content warnings: suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm and some graphic descriptions of death. Angst with a happy ending.

Genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

Read on AO3 or down below :3

Word count: 6205

Author note

There will always be someone there. You are never alone and you are loved. Please remember that.

Also please ignore the spelling mistakes if there are any it is 7 am when I am posting this. Also I'm on mobile so possible weird formatting I'm sorry </3

__

The cold in the room bites at you, filling your lungs with a gasp as you open your eyes. The burning that consumed every inch of your body just seconds before is gone just as fast as the manilla folder slaps down on the desk in front of you, barely illuminated by a light from above. This feels different from the other deaths.

You wonder what snide remark you're gonna hear this time.

“A void mass? Really?”

You spare a glance up at him, glowing white eyes peering down at you, completely void of emotion. Completely unreadable. You give a meek shrug. It's not like you have to explain yourself to him, and you're already feeling a lot better than before. Lighter.

Like you can let yourself breathe.

“I tripped up. I heard an angler and hid without checking.”

His stare is still empty as ever, his tail shifts around somewhere in the dark room around you as he snickers and leans in a tiny bit closer. Just enough to see that fanged smile.

“Try not to be so careless next time, yeah? Wouldn't want urbanshade taking their brightest expendable out of the program.”

Normally the thought would send a chill through your veins, you’d give a snide remark back and then you’d be on your way to start another life, start another loop, and repeat the cycle all over again.

You don't have it in you to do that this time, so you smile up at Sebastian and bid him farewell, closing the folder and your eyes.

When you open them, you're back in the lobby. Other expendables rushing around, submarines docking and leaving, and the sound of rushing water flooding through the cave hidden port as you look out at the waterfall blocking the entrance that hides it from the view of any unsuspecting soul.

Standing up and dusting yourself off, you make your way to a dock.

The cycle begins anew.

—

Cold air rushing into your lungs, dim light illuminating a folder on the table, a hearty laugh. The same story once again. The searing on your skin is gone, now replaced by a soft tingling.

It's not entirely unpleasant.

A claw emerges from the dark and flips open the folder, circling the photo of a landmine slowly and tauntingly.

“Tsk tsk tsk. So careless. A mine in the middle of the hallway? I thought you were better than this expendable.”

The name is said low and slowly, certainly drawn out to mock you of the position you hold. You couldn't care less, this is the best you've felt in a while.

Your eyes skim through the page, not really caring about mines in particular, but it's something you'll be able to think about later on a slow run.

“Thanks for the info Sebastian! I’ll be heading out now.”

Your voice is awfully cheery for someone who was just blown to bits, but before he can say anything you're already sending him a smile and wave as you close the folder and blink away in an instant, back to the lobby.

Sebastian sits there for a moment longer than he should have, glancing down at the file still on the desk.

There's no way you hadn't seen that mine in front of you.

—

By the time you're at the 8th death from something he deems completely avoidable, Sebastian sits with the file already open on the table and eyes narrowed down at you as your body jerks back to life.

You can feel the hole that pierced through your body closing up, flesh mending and muscle regrowing underneath your jumpsuit. It burns, yet you're still grinning ear to ear.

“Beautiful day for some runs, isn't it Sebastian?”

He stares down at you with a glare, sounding incredibly unimpressed.

“You walked directly into a searchlight’s spotlight.”

For the first time, you catch something in his eyes, but it's gone before you can put a name to it.

“Just what exactly are you playing at here expendable? Some stupid idea that if you die enough times in such meaningless ways you'll be pulled from the program? That urbanshade will think you're too useless so they let you free from here only to go back to death row? Once you're here, you're here for good.”

His voice is practically snarling at you as you look at the papers on the desk in front of you before looking back up at him, pulling out your best sheepish laugh.

Letting him know wouldn't do anything.

“I guess I've just been off my game recently, but that doesn't matter. I just come back every time anyway’

You smile up at him with that same stupid smile, the one you’ve made every time for the past 7 deaths before this and close the folder, disappearing before he can get a word in once again.

A growl bubbles up in his throat that turns into an agitated scream as he swipes the folder and lamp off the desk, sending them crashing down onto the floor.

You have to have a goal here. Some kind of weird thing you’re working towards, you wouldn't be dying so senselessly for nothing, would you?

You have almost everything in the files unredacted, you've been on so many runs he's lost count and you've gotten as far as anyone can go before being sent back to start again. What could you possibly be doing?

He grumbles as he picks up the folder and lamp off the floor, dropping the lamp on the table with no regard for it and cramming the file back into the locker.

You have normal runs where you die normal deaths like every other expendable down here, things that most people would slip up on. So why is it that these completely avoidable (and quite frankly stupid) deaths keep happening closer and closer together?

You had to be losing it. Running down seemingly endless halls, getting hunted by every living thing in this forsaken facility like it's a sport, feeling your body die all around you... After one day any normal person would be starting to feel the grips of insanity beginning to claw its way inside them.

He stops for a moment and sighs before quickly shaking it off and getting back to work.

No use wondering what that would imply for someone like him. He’s thought about it enough already.

—

Sebastian’s eyes peer down at you as you grab some batteries off of his desk, watching and waiting to see anything that could tip him off to what you were doing. Even the slightest change in your behavior from what he's used to, anything that could be useful in any way.

Whenever you get to his shop, you always stop and chat for a few minutes with a smile. That's been something that's never changed about you.

Even on your first day, terrified as all hell and trembling from head to toe as you stumbled your way through the vent to his shop, you still smiled and introduced yourself.

You don't seem as…energized…this run. Something he's been noticing a lot lately. Very avoidable mishaps are always what kill you when you're like this.

Maybe you're not paying attention as much as you should be because your mind is elsewhere.

But where else would it be besides this hellhole?

As you turn to grab the keycard and leave he huffs, picking the medkit off of his tail as you turn to look at him questioningly.

“You’re not gonna be getting past the generators in the shape you’re in. here.”

This is something he would never do, something that defies all morals he’s gained since he's been stuck in this hellhole.

“6% off. You look like you need it.” he sneers out, knowing fully well that it’s an act at this point.

You look up at him, hand hesitantly hovering over it. Sebastian never gives anyone discounts for any reason. Something’s wrong. He's onto you.you put on the best playful grin you can.

It hurts worse than any death you've experienced.

“The Sebastian I know would never accept anything for less than full price. What's the catch?”

“There is no catch, now take it and get out before I change my mind.”

He can see how the smile doesn't reach your eyes, how the fatigue is creeping its way into every inch of you, but you take the medkit and turn around before he can look closer.

You wave farewell and thank him without turning around, crawling out of the vent and making your way down the hallway. He hears the sound of the med kit lid clattering to the ground as your footsteps fade into the distance.

You make your way to the next room, body fully refreshed but mind still cloudy. It was nice of him to do that for you. He's not usually that nice. It makes you feel just a little bit less foggy.

The door shutters open with a metallic shriek as you make your way inside, only to see that a giant hole in the ground blocks most of the way, with small wooden planks laid out to form a narrow path over.

You haven't killed yourself while fully healed yet. Will that make it feel even better?

Almost like second nature at this point you walk over to the edge and step over with no hesitation or second thought, your body falling down into the abyss with a smile on your face.

You blank just before you hit the

ground.

You jolt awake a moment later, head pounding that quickly dulls into a fuzzy feeling, the relief of feeling better almost instantly washes over you.

Sebastian isn't happy to see you again so soon.

—

After the 24th death, he decides enough is enough. He waits a few minutes after you leave to put the vent cover back on the entrance to his shop and he hoists himself up to the ceiling rafters, sliding into one of the air ducts to follow after you without you knowing.

He was getting to the bottom of this, one way or another.

__

Banging in the vents was nothing abnormal in the blacksite, hell, it's hard to go 10 rooms without hearing someone screaming for their life.

Random thumps, footsteps or other sounds of unknown origin don't scare you anymore. Quite the opposite.

If there had been no sound here, you probably would’ve lost it much sooner. Going on runs by yourself can get lonely. You used to love venturing into the depths of the broken down site with other people. But you'd prefer it if no one saw what you've been up to.

But it's good to know there's other things down here with you.

No matter how fucked up they may be.

The safe room door slides open and you walk inside, beginning to search drawers and filing cabinets for the keycard to open the next room.

Sadly, this room didn't have a way you could end your own life in it, so you'd have to keep going if you wanted to find a way to make this awful feeling end.

You hear a jingle to your left as you look around, eventually ducking down and finding the keycard on the floor underneath a chair. A small but triumphant smile crosses your face. Finally, you wouldn't have to put up with this much longer. You could start a new, hopefully better run.

A run where you don't feel like there's a bottomless pit in your chest where your heart should be.

A run without something that sucks all of the good things out of life.

You’ve been saying that to yourself nearly every round now. It's only getting worse.

You grab the key card and make your way to the door, sliding it in and waiting for it to click. The door opens with the same loud metallic shriek every door here opens with and you stand in the entryway for just a moment, before you hear what sounds like music to your ears.

The sounds of turrets kicking to life

Painter's voice cuts in from over the speakers like an angel descended from heaven itself to save you.

“Better hope you're bulletproof, buddy!”

__

Sebastian watches from up in the vents, having been following you for around 10 minutes now. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far, it seemed like any other run; albeit a bit slower than normal pace.

The sound of turrets firing up was not something new to sebastian, he had heard painters splatter art therapy too many times to count at this point, even getting caught in it a time or two before the ai realized who it was shooting at.

He watched you as you stood at the doorway of the room, just outside of the turret's range. Most likely assessing the best path to get to the off switch.

You have the least amount of deaths from turrets, once even telling him that you find it fun. The ducking, weaving and adrenaline rush making it more like a game to you.

You should have no problem with this.

You take a step into the room and suddenly, something feels wrong. Horribly wrong. Without a moment's notice, you step directly into the moving turret's red beam of sight and it locks onto you, firing almost instantaneously.

He can only watch wide eyed in horror as bullets shred through your body in an instant, tearing flesh, ripping muscle and shattering bone. Your body crumbles to the floor in a matter of seconds.

When he sees your face, he feels beyond sick.

Blood gurgles out of your mouth, spilling down the sides of your cheeks next to tears. Your eyes are fully welled up, scleras turning bloodshot.

Worst of all, you're smiling.

The same smile you'd give to him when he had your favorite items in his shop. It was now twisted and warped, smeared in crimson that only sputtered out more and more when you let you a broken, drowned laugh.

He was completely frozen. He had seen so many bodies, he himself had killed so many, he's seen enough viscera and gore in this shit hole that it would make the world's most renowned biohazard cleanup crew resign permanently.

He’s committed atrocities against so many people, just wanting to survive down here and get out, same as him, so why…

Why did it feel so different now that he's seeing it happen to you?

He covers his mouth with his hand, suppressing the urge to vomit. He's seen expendables kill themselves before, he knows you’ve died horrible deaths before.

This shouldn't be any different!

But oh god…not like this…

Not with you…

Before he has the chance to keel over he blinks for the first time in what feels like years, and suddenly he's back in that oh so familiar dark room with a file in his hand and a shitty lamp barely illuminating the desk.

You're lying slumped in the chair across from him, how you appear after every death. Jumpsuit completely clean and tidy, all signs of blood are completely gone, and the bullet holes that riddle your skin are stitching themselves back up as if nothing had ever happened.

As if what he just saw was nothing but a horrible dream.

His eyes are still wide and jaw agape as you twitch to life, gasping in air, you sit and breath for a moment before looking up at him with the brightest smile and wave he's ever seen from you

“Turrets got me this time! Guess I got a little too ambitious when I was heading for the off switch!”

Your voice is so cheerful it's sickening now. He's never felt like this before. He can't move, he can't talk, he can only sit and stare in horror.

You look up at Sebastian, seeing him frozen like this is certainly new. You wave your hand in front of him, and when all you get in response is his mouth moving with no words you reach and grab the folder from his hands with no retaliation from him, too caught up in your own glee to notice the fear in his eyes.

You kick your feet back and forth and smile, humming a little as you browse over the file.

He swears he can still see the blood on your lips.

“Ok, well I'll see you next run Sebastian! Take care!”

you close the folder and just like that, youre gone from him once again

He stares at the folder on the desk before turning and looking at the file cabinets surrounding him.

How many times had you killed yourself and played it off as normal deaths?

How long has this truly been going on for? Had you been purposefully putting yourself in dangers way this entire time and only recently started ending your own life yourself?

Have you been doing it yourself this whole time and just gotten worse and worse the more it progressed?

All he knows is that he can't let it continue.

He can't.

—

You crawl through the vent into Sebastian's shop, standing up with a stretch and popping your back. You take a moment to stretch the rest of your limbs before moving over to Sebastian, giving him your best wave and smile.

“Hey Sebastian! Whatcha got in store for me today?”

He seems more tense than usual as he flicks his tail over to you, showcasing the stock for today. You idly chat about whatever you can think of as you make your choice, picking up some batteries and a flash beacon.

You bid farewell and turn to leave, but before you can even make it halfway across the room Sebastian flicks his tail again, this time slamming the vent cover back into place. You flinch a little from the loud noise and turn to him confused.

“I think we need to have a talk, friend.”

He sounds incredibly pissed and immediately you are racking your brain for anything you could’ve done to make him angry. You're too lost in thought to notice him leaning down to your level until his hands are gripping your shoulders.

“So, how many times now have you killed yourself on purpose? And why?”

His claws sink into your shoulder, not enough to break skin, but enough to be very aware of them.

You freeze, every muscle in your body tensing as your heart begins to speed up. He wasn't supposed to find out. How did he find out? You need to think of something to get out of this and fast.

He shouldn't know about this.

“Killing myself..? Sebastian, why would I kill myself? I've got enough things trying to kill me as is! I haven't been doing it on purpose!”

You try to play it off with a chuckle and force yourself to smile. It's not like this is about anything serious, or something that would matter to him.

He scowls at you, anger flickering in his eyes as his tail thuds against the ground in restrained anger.

“No one happily walks in front of a turret and then laughs about the fact they're bleeding out on the floor.”

Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT. He saw you?!? Not good not good not good NOT GOOD. he's probably going to think you're crazy and hate you. He'll be disgusted with you forever and never want to be near you again. You have to salvage this somehow. You have to.

“I was just so excited to see you…?”

“Wrong. Try again”

You fidget uncomfortably, looking anywhere but him. This is bad. How could you possibly make this seem like a normal thing??

“Why do you need to know? It doesn't involve you”

His grip tightens on your shoulders and you swallow nervously.

“It does involve me when i'm the one who deals with you every time you die.”

Your hands are shaking now as your eyes begin to water. Why did it have to go like this? Why did this have to happen? This shouldn't involve him at all, he's stressed enough as is.he shouldn't have to deal with you. You're being pathetic. Why couldn't you have just stayed dead on one of your attempts? This isn't fair. It isn't fair it isn't fair it isn't-

You didn't even realize you had started crying until Sebastian says your name. Not expendable, not buddy, not friend. Your actual name.

All at once, everything breaks and your legs give out underneath you with a sob, his hands quickly move under your arms to catch you and set you on the floor gently, making sure you don't fall.

Your sobs begin to grow louder as you grab your arms, nails digging into your flesh to try and calm yourself down as blood begins to pool at the openings of the new wounds.

Sebastian's eyes widen with shock and before you can do anything more in your panicked state, he grabs your hands, holding them above your head. You jerk back in retaliation to try and free yourself before quickly giving up, unable to do anything.

“I-”

you try to sputter out, choking on your own sobs.

“i -i dont-”

you sniffle and hiccup, unable to get more than a few words out at a time.

Sebastian moves his free hand to your face, wiping the tears away from your eyes. He squeezes your blood soaked hands gently.

“It's fine, take your time. I'm not going anywhere”

You stare at him teary eyed in silence for a moment before letting out a long and broken whine, more tears spilling over your eyes. This was wrong. You shouldn't be letting him see this. He's being too gentle with you. You don't deserve this.

“Jesus, if i knew that's how you'd react i would've said something else”

Sebastian forces a chuckle, trying anything to try and distract you from what you're feeling.

But his voice is quiet, as if he wanted no one else in the world to hear it but you.

You take a shaky breath, you have to get him away from you. He doesn't deserve to be put through this.

“I...”

Your voice trembles as you speak, your words almost completely unintelligible.

“I...hate you. I dont…I don't want to be near you.”

If you tell him you hate him, he’ll leave. He’ll leave and never talk to you again and he won't have to be burdened with you and your dumb problems ever again. He can figure out a way to escape and be free and happy without you constantly bothering him.

Sure you'll be miserable without him, you love him. But your feelings don't matter, not when it comes to him. His happiness is much more important. He'd be much better off without you

“You hate me, huh?”

His voice is dripping with sarcasm, enough to make you aggravated as you glare up at him. Why isn't he taking this seriously? Why isn't he leaving you?

“Y-yes! I…i hate you..! I hate you Sebastian! I never want to see you again! Get away from me!”

The words leave a nasty taste in your mouth and an even worse feeling in your chest. You didn't mean any of this. You could never hate him. But you have to, to keep him safe.

He stares at you, barely reacting to your outburst. His eyes narrow as he leans closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“No you don't.”

He says it so calmly, as if it were a fact everyone knew. Disbelief and frustration bubble up inside you as you try to shake his grip off of you, planting a foot on his chest to try and push him away from you. Your efforts are completely in vain as he keeps you in place without so much as even moving when you struggle.

“What do you mean I don't?! That's not for you to decide!”

“If you actually hated me, you wouldn't make such a pitiful face when saying it.”

He flicks you on the forehead right between your eyes as he says it, and you stare at him with wide eyes and jaw agape. Why won't he just believe you?

“I hate-”

“Nope. Try again.”

“I ha-”

“Nah”

“I-”

“Wrong.”

You let out a scream in frustration, tears of anger running down your face now. Why won't he just let you do this for him?!

“Now, are you gonna tell me what's actually going on?”

You turn your head away now. If he wants to play like that, you can play like that too. You'll just sit here in silence until he gets fed up with you and leaves. This is what's best for him.

You both sit in silence for a moment before he asks again, once again being met with silence. He groans in annoyance. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

The hand that was once wiping your tears away grabs your face, forcing you to turn and look at him

“Just tell me what's wrong god dammit!”

A baffled and angry sound escapes you as you try to wiggle your face out of his grip, but he only pulls you closer. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes piercing into you like they were trying to dig into your very soul.

You try to look anywhere else that isn't him, but he jerks your face to make your eyes meet him anyway. There's no escaping it this time.

“Im- I'm not going to burden you with this Sebastian! It doesn't involve you!”

He raises an eyebrow at this, backing away from you a bit but still keeping a firm hold on your face.

“You think you're going to burden me? Is that it?”

You scowl. What doesn't he understand?

“Of course It would burden you! You already have so much shit to deal with and I'm not gonna let my pathetic problems weigh you down more!”

Shit. You probably shouldn't have said that. He stares at you silently before letting go of your face and bringing your hands to your lap, squeezing them in his. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, the gesture making nausea and pain shoot through you.

“Are you actually stupid enough to think it would burden me?”

Because you can refute the insult, he holds a finger up to your mouth to shush you.

“You're one of the few things in this shitty place that doesnt burden me. If the only actual person I gave a damn about is hurting, then I want to know.”

You can feel your heart skip a beat at his words, but you try to shake it off.

no no no NO!.. this…this isn't right..! He shouldn't have to worry about someone like you! You're being pathetic!

“Don't tell me what is and isn't right. I've seen plenty of people being pathetic, and you aren't one of them. Especially not now”

Fuck, did you really say that out loud? You would cry more from embarrassment at this whole ordeal, but you've run out of tears by now.

You sniffle quietly, your voice coming out quiet and broken.

“I don't…I don't deserve you, Sebastian…”

Sebastian reels back, a confused look crossing his face as the fins on the sides of his head dropping down a bit to match.

Slowly, a snicker leaves him. Then another, until it becomes full on laughter. You didn't deserve him?? He's never heard something more ridiculous.

You stare at him confused as he laughs, his laughter only growing lower and harder, even bringing up a hand to wipe away a tear forming.

What is even happening right now…?

It takes a moment but he takes a deep breath in and out to recollect himself.

“You don't deserve me? I'm a monster! I mean, just look at me! Do you even know how many people I've killed? How many deaths I've caused?”

He chuckles to himself, but your eyes widen, panic growing on your face as you pull your hands out of his grasp. Instead, you clasp his hands together in yours as you practically lunge forward towards him. He flinches back from the sudden movement but otherwise stays still as he looks down at the most desperate face he's ever seen anyone make.

“No no no! You're not a monster! You're amazing Sebastian! Even with everything that's happened to you, you still help people! You let everyone and everything that was trapped in the black site out and even now you're trying to figure out a way to get painter out with you too! A monster wouldn't do that! Of course I don't deserve someone as selfless as you!”

The pure desperation to get him to understand you makes his heart drop. Why the hell is he the one getting nervous now? This is supposed to be about you for god's sake.

He opens his mouth to respond but before he can get the chance, you're already talking again.

“You run a shop when you don't have to, you could leave everyone to fend for themselves but you don't! Hell, you didn't even get anything at all from the dead drop shop and you still run it! You're amazing Sebastian! I could never ask someone like you to worry about someone like me!”

This time he's the one cutting you off before you can start talking again, an agitated look on his face.

“Woah woah hey- you don't deserve me? What the actual hell are you talking about? I've seen you give med kits to people who were barely bruised while you were bleeding out! I've seen you jump in front of people to take bullets so they wouldn't have to, seen you shove people into the last locker while you took the full force of pandemonium charging at you! When someone is hurt or sad, you're always the first person there to help! What in the everloving hell are you saying you don't deserve me?! I Don't deserve YOU.”

You begin to stammer something out before he holds up a hand, gesturing at you to stop for a moment. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs before looking back up at you

“Ok look, we’re not going to get anywhere like this and how I feel right now is irrelevant because you have been CONTINUOUSLY KILLING YOURSELF-”

He cuts himself off, taking a breath to calm himself before continuing

“And I care about you, which you can't change, no matter how much you want to. So for now, you are going to sit here and promise me that you will stop hurting yourself.”

He looks down at you and god, he's never wanted to take on someone else's pain as much as he does right now.

Your eyes are wide and bloodshot with tear stains on your face, your hair is messy and your arms are covered in now drying blood. If it were anyone else, they'd look pathetic to him. But it's not anyone else, it's you.

His heart clenches at the thought. He wishes he could take you away from here, shield you from all the horrors of this place. Protect you from every horrible thing you think about yourself. But for now, this is the best he can do.

“Do you think you can do that for me?”

Your name on his voice is enough to ease the pain of everything for a moment, but you hesitate.

Sebastian notices immediately, placing a claw under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“Listen, here's what we’re gonna do. I'm going to give you a walkie talkie, and the moment you feel any urge to hurt yourself you call me and I will come get you. If you can't use the walkie for any reason, you will find painter and tell him and I will come get you. Do you understand”

You swallow nervously, shame burning in your chest. You really don't deserve this, but there's no point in arguing with him anymore.

“Ok I um….I… I promise.”

You look away as you say it, not being able to bear how humiliating this feels.

“I see you every time you die, so I'll know if you don't tell me.”

“Ok, I understand.”

“And so help me god if I learn you threw yourself into danger I WILL-”

“Ok ok I get it! I won't!”

You grumble to yourself as he smirks, clearly proud of himself. This is the worst. You shouldn't be happy about this, that he cares about you enough to do this. How selfish you are-

“Now you are going to sit here and tell me about alllllll of the good things about yourself”

Wait, what?

Before you can object, or even ask what he means by that, he's moving his hands under your arms and picking you up as you shriek in surprise.

He moves his tail, curling it so you can sit comfortably on it as he drops you down on it before plucking a med kit off of one of the bags on his tail.

The med kit pops open with a click and he holds a hand out at you expectantly. Completely baffled, you rest one of your arms in his grip, his hand almost the size of your entire forearm.

Sebastian pops a bottle of antiseptic open and pours it onto a cotton pad before bringing it to your arm, holding it just above one of the self-inflicted scratches.

“Now, tell me one of the reasons you deserve to be cared for.”

“What-? Sebastian I'm not gonna-”

You hiss in pain as he dabs the rag over a cut, the antiseptic stinging the wound. He glances up at you expectantly.

“Ok ok um-....”

You sit in silence for an embarrassingly long time as you try to come up with anything good about yourself. Even with the things Sebastian told you earlier, it's still hard to believe you deserve any of this

“I'm…I care about others and always try to help when I can…?”

It comes out more like a question than anything else. You glance at him nervously as he nods and let's put a hum of approval, telling you to keep going as he grabs a roll of bandages and begins to wrap it around your arm.

This is going to be difficult.

You swallow nervously, your mind almost fully blanking.

“I'm a good person…?”

“Don't say it like a question, say it like you mean it.”

You tense up slightly at how…soft…he sounds. Your chest tightens and a lump forms in your throat. This is all way too...intimate. You think you might pass out if it goes on for any longer. Despite this, you push forward and try to be a bit more confident.

“I'm…a good person. ”

“Good.”

He lets your arm go, gently, grabbing your other one and beginning the same process of cleaning and bandaging it again. Your heart flutters at the praise and the touch.

“I can't stop you from caring about me, even if I want to, so I might as well let it happen.”

You sound defeated when you say it, like you just lost a battle but Sebastian is pleased to hear it.

“There you go, now you're getting it.”

He hums with approval and your face flushes as you look away. This is the worst. You're enjoying this way too much.

Despite every inch of you screaming at you, calling you selfish and undeserving, you feel your eyes begin to shut for longer and longer with each blink, your body getting heavier and your nerves beginning to calm down.

“I deserve to be cared for”

You can feel yourself starting to drift to sleep, and at this point you're far too exhausted to try and fight it. Sebastian finishes tying the last bandage when he notices. He puts everything back into the med kit and shuts it gently before setting it on the ground.

He shifts his tail so it's wrapped around you now, you mumble something incoherent in protest before getting comfortable again. His heart feels full for the first time in years as he looks at you.

“Rest well, ok? I know it's hard to believe but I..”

He trails off, debating on the best way to phrase it, or if he should even tell you right now.

You barely manage to open your eyes as you look up at him questioningly, still trying your best to listen to what he has to say. He can feel his heart stutter in his chest.

“I…I care about you. Get some rest, okay? You need it.”

What he wants to say is teetering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken into existence, but he doesn't want to drop that on you right now. It can be said another day.

As sleep begins to take you, against his better judgement, Sebastian leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead.

That's good enough for now

Ending note:

I haven't seen many things explore the fact that in pressure you come back completely fine after every death so I wanted to try my hand at writing it based on my emotions and experiences.

I am perfectly fine actually but a few months ago when I originally wrote this I was having the worst time of my life, but now that I'm better I decided to revisit it and edit it a bit.

Please remember you are never alone, there is always someone willing to help.

And don't forget dear reader, Sebastian loves you very much, even if he can't say it yet <3

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[skywalkerslvt]

Need a desperate sub Leon in public setting🙏🏻But please dont make us mean,I cant be mean to my baby but "No baby we're in public!"

a/n: tysm for the request! here's a very short fic i've been working on (it's a little bit rushed and not proofread so i might fix it up later). hope u like it!! <3

CW: 18+ smut, sub leon, teasing, semi public sex, pet names (reader calls leon baby and good boy), handjobs, 1.1k words

Leon Kennedy was always composed, always in control. At least, that's what everyone thought. But right now, at one of his coworker's dinner parties, he was anything but.

The evening had started off normally enough. You and Leon had arrived at the elegant townhouse, greeting his colleagues and their partners with polite smiles. The house was buzzing with conversation and laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and soft music creating a lively atmosphere.

You were both seated at a long dining table, surrounded by the chatter of his coworkers. But beneath the table, hidden from everyone else, your hand was slowly driving Leon to the brink of madness.

It had begun with a casual touch on his knee, a simple gesture that wouldn't raise any suspicion. But then your hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his thigh, inching closer and closer to the bulge straining against his slacks.

Leon tried to focus on the conversation, tried to keep his responses coherent, but it was getting harder with every passing second. He shifted in his seat, his breathing becoming shallow as he felt your fingers brush against him.

"Are you okay, Leon?" you asked innocently, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you pretended to be concerned.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "J-just a little distracted."

You bit back a smile, knowing full well what you were doing to him. Your fingers pressed a bit harder, rubbing him through the fabric, and Leon had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.

"Are you sure?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. "You seem really tense."

Leon managed a weak smile. "Y-yeah, just... trying to keep it together."

You chuckled softly, your fingers giving him a teasing squeeze before leaving his aching cock, returning to tracing teasing circles up and down his thigh.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, but it was no use.

He was too far gone, too desperate for your touch. His hand reached under the table, gripping your wrist in a silent plea for mercy. His hand guided yours up higher, where his cock was straining painfully against his pants. “Please,” he whined quietly, “I need it.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered back, "No, baby, we're in public. You can be a good boy and wait for me, can't you?"

Leon shuddered, his grip tightening. "I don't know if I can."

"You will" you said confidently, giving him one last squeeze before finally pulling your hand away. "Because you know I'll make it worth your while."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The promise of relief, of finally being able to let go, gave him the strength to endure the rest of the meal.

But it wasn't easy. Every look, every casual touch, was a reminder of what was waiting for him, just out of reach.

By the time the dinner was over and you made your way to a quiet corner of the house, Leon was practically trembling with need. He followed you silently, his mind focused on only one thing: getting to a place where he could finally let go, where he could give in to the overwhelming desire that had been building up inside him.

As soon as you were alone, his restraint crumbled. He pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that had been held back for far too long.

You smiled against his lips, knowing that you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Good boy," you whispered, your words sending a shiver down his spine, and Leon's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching as he prepared to show you just how much he needed you.

His eyes met yours, filled with a desperate need that made your heart race.

"Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Please, I need you."

You leaned into his neck, biting and sucking marks at his pulse point as your hand slid down his stomach, teasingly close to where he ached the most. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath quickening in anticipation as he let out a soft whimper.

You pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth before reminding him to keep quiet.

Leon whimpered, but he nodded again, his body trembling with the effort to remain still. You rewarded him with a soft kiss, your lips barely brushing his as your hand finally reached the waistband of his pants.

Your hand slipped inside his pants to wrap around his throbbing cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. "Just focus on me, Leon. I'll take care of you."

You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. Leon's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. You tightened your grip slightly, reminding him to stay quiet.

"Shh," you soothed, kissing him deeply to muffle any further sounds. He kissed you back with a desperation that only fueled your desire, his hands gripping your hips as if to ground himself.

Your pace quickened, your hand moving faster over his length as his breathing became more erratic. You could feel him getting close, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back.

"That's it," you whispered against his lips. "Let go for me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum."

With a muffled cry, Leon obeyed, his body shaking as he came hard into your hand. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm, your other hand gently caressing his face as tears of relief and pleasure spilled from his eyes.

"Good boy," you murmured, kissing away his tears. "You did so well."

Leon slumped against you, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he basked in the afterglow. You held him close, your heart swelling with affection for the man in your arms.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with gratitude. "I love you."

"I love you too, Leon," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Now, let's get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He nodded, reluctantly pulling away to adjust his clothes. You did the same, both of you sharing a secret smile as you stepped out of the closet, ready to face Leon's coworkers once more.

[wonderlandwalker]

He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

thg masterlist / inbox / part two

summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. tags / content warnings: mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread word count: 1.6k

requested by anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

a/n: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

[baby--b4t]

Could I request a mini fic of Ghost with a toddler regressor who, when in little headspace, has trouble pronouncing certain letters and sounds and has a lisp? And no matter how hard anyone else in 141 tries, they can’t understand the little one. Ghost, however, can.

ghost actually has a superpower and its understanding the most incoherent speech anyone has ever heard B) hes just that cool /j /silly

anyways i hope this is actually coherent enough to read TuT

There were a million more interesting things to do rather than watching the morning news with Price. You wished you could be watching cartoons or a movie, but Price always watched the news at six am sharp. That was like an unspoken rule in the 141.

Gaz walked out from his room and went towards the small kitchen area. Price and Gaz exchanged their “Mornin’”s and went back to what they were focused on. You, however, watched Gaz as he grabbed one of the yogurts from the mini fridge.

“‘Nack?” You mumbled, glancing at Price. Your stomach was starting to feel a bit empty after thinking about the snacks you could have.

“Hm? Nack? I dont know what that is, bud.” The Captain responded, turning back to face the Tv. You huffed and got up, going to the kitchen to ask Gaz instead.

“‘Nack? P’ease?” You asked once more. Gaz stared at you like you had just spoken to him in some foreign language.

“I dont know if its because its early or youre speaking gibberish, but I cant understand you.” He replied, shaking his head slightly before eating a spoonful of his yogurt. The fact that nobody seemed to understand you was starting to get on your nerves.

“‘Nack!” You said again, pointing angrily at the fridge. Youd think pointing at what you wanted would help them understand, but that was the furthest from the truth. Gaz and Price were still confused about what you wanted.

It was around then that an angel came down the hall, his eyes still as sharp and tired as they normally were. Ghost entered the scene, not really acknowledging anyone as he poured himself some coffee. He didnt pay much mind to you talking to Gaz until he heard you getting irritated.

“Whats the matter?” Ghost asked, turning his body to face you. You repeated your question again and he nodded. “Sure, just no sugary things.”

Gaz and Price just stared at him in awe.

“You understand him?” Price asked from the couch, amusement clear in his tone.

“You cant? He was just sayin’ ‘Snack’. Whats hard to understand about that?” Ghost replied with his normal biting attitude. Gaz had just given up at that point, shaking his head and walking off. He felt like he was still half asleep trying to figure out how somehow Ghost understood you.

Ghost went to turn his attention back to his coffee. He let out a sigh, trying to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. His head quickly turned back around as he heard you getting into the box of cookies.

“Oi.” Ghost glared at you slightly, warning you. “What did I say? Put ‘em back ‘n find something healthier.” You slowly slid the box back into the cabinet and shuffled over to the bananas in the bowl on top of the mini fridge.

“Is ‘nana?” You asked, holding up one of the bananas to Ghost. The Lieutenant nodded, turning back to stir his coffee. His smile was hidden by his mask.

“Cheeky thing…”

[stargazet]

rant incoming I AM TIRED OF YOU HOES BEING ALL "i wOULD give more comments but idk what to sayyyy🥺/my comments are just xy🥺🥺" HOW ABOUT YOU GO THINK OF A COMMENT OR JUST TYPE YOUR SILLY XY COMMENT ON 30 FICS WITH ONLY SLIGHT ALTERATION INSTEAD OF POSTING ABT HOW YOU ARE UNABLE TO COMMENT.

it pisses me off to no end that most readers need to be coddled and begged for just a SPECK of a reaction. You wanting to leave more kudos on a fic does NOT keep fandoms alive. your "i would comment but" does NOT keep fandoms alive!! you keep giving us excuses upon excuses as to why NONE OF YOU can type up 5 coherent words, but you want longfics and you want well-written fics and you want consistent updates on fics and PLEASE just keep bringing us the fics. I dont care anymore if you're shy or feel stupid, GUESS WHAT?? I'm putting my art, my soul, my joy out into the world for you to see and you think you can excuse your silence with being shy and scared uwu🥺🥺

You know what they tell every artist of any kind when they just started their craft and are not good at it??? To practice, that's right. So get your heads out of your lazy asses and practice. I don't care how many comments keep sounding similar, ao3 is not the mindhive of an individual, WE WILL NOT NOTICE IF YOU SAID THE SAME THING TO 5 DIFFERENT AUTHORS, BUT WE WERE ONE OF THOSE 5 AND WE WILL NOTICE THAT.

And if you hit me with the "But if it's from the same author-" well that's the perfect time to practice making different comments, isn't it?!

Yall get HUNDREDS of posts encouraging you to do this time and time again, even posts that TELL YOU WHAT TO COMMENT, do you realize how embarrassing that is for you as a readership??? Artists not just giving you the art but having to fucking teach you how to respond to that art?? can't you people do nothing but mindlessly consume?? We work our asses off FOR FREE, hoping to inspire others, wishing to connect with our art, our fics, and you are nothing but a void. A black hole. It's frankly not just so disheartening and frustrating, it's quite disgusting if you think about it. Am i just feeding a machine? You sorry lot of gawkers can't even say fucking "thank you for making this." the 5 coherent words in question.

I'm SO tired of seeing you bitches give me excuses and empty promises and SO tired of not even being heard when i yell and scream and shout like I do now. The commenters are keeping you husks and ghosts fed for now, but one after the other, your artists will get fed up or discouraged and they'll stop posting. If you only want fandoms with 3 big creators, then ig you'll get exactly that. I bet it will be fun and not at all stagnant or turn into a mini cult where one guy keeps shaping the collective! But I hope when this happens, and it will if yall don't change your approach real fucking quick, that you'll at least remember that you all snuffed your artists little lights out, one by one, with your haunting silence.

And now open ao3 and get your greasy fingers onto that comment section or so help me god

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Please be naked - Matty Healy

A/N: remember when i said i was done? false. @awellposhmagazine you sweetheart ilysm and i hope u dont die. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff thank u for your slave labour in finding the lyric for this fic xx

wc: 4.5k

content warnings: smut, fluff, use of sex toys (butt plug, strap), pegging, edging, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, degradation but in a sweet way, praise, face-sitting, restraint (she holds him down), teasing, lots and lots of condescension, begging, the return of the little red kia, it gets weirdly poetic towards the end, two kinky knobheads in love

Matty was bold, always has been. Personal boundaries? Shame? Embarrassment? All foreign concepts to him. Evident in the way he spoke before he thought, blurting out strings of words that didn't even make sense most of the time. His behavior was no different, always going for the shock factor whenever interacting with you. 

Which is why you were now standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, eyes flicking between him and the small, plastic device in your hand. He had strolled into the room awfully giddy, topless and grinning at you wildly, holding something in the palm of his hand, stopping right in front of you. You raised your eyebrows as he pressed the remote against your chest, it taking you a while to recognise it. 

Eyes widening and staring at the object, you looked back at matty who had this mischievous glint in his eye, obviously plotting something. Your words caught in your throat when you tried to speak, struggling to form coherent sentences. 

“Is this-?” you try to confirm that he was, in fact, standing in front of you with a buttplug in his arse. Matty wasn't shy, nodding his head slowly as it clicks in your head. It wasn't an impulse purchase, per se, just a surprising one. Matty had gone back to that same sex shop multiple times, even making friends with the owner (because of course he would), purchasing a multitude of odd toys to ‘gift’ to you. But only one of them genuinely took you by surprise: a black buttplug, holographic shimmers decorating the base.   

“Yeah.” he breathes, squirming around on his spot, running his fingers through his freshly washed hair. You choose your next words carefully. 

“And you-” Maybe he was taking the piss? A cruel joke, but you wouldn't put it past him.

“I’m wearing it.”

“But- we’re about to go-”

You cut yourself off, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. The two of you had made plans with your mates, agreeing to meet up at a sort of bar-restaurant thing that had recently opened a few blocks down from your house. Was this really the best time to pull a stunt like this?

“I know. I want you to do it while we’re out.” he takes a step closer, brushing his fingers against your waist, refusing to touch you properly. Your heart beats erratically in your chest, and you try to breath steadily, composing yourself

“I want you to make me moan in your ear while our friends watch.” 

You had always had this sneaking, sneaking suspicion about your boyfriend and his penchant for attention. His loud and pretentious manner drew people in, watching him with a certain look in their eye that he absolutely relished in.

You're snapped back to the present moment as he turns on the heel of his foot, walking towards the door and away from you. He’d closed it on his way in out of pure habit, not realizing the precarious position he had put himself in. 

Your body moved a bit quicker than your mind, hand making contact with his lower back as you forced him forward against the closed door. He yelps as his cheek smushes against the cool wood, muffling his gasps as you feel him up from behind.

Your hands run up his bare chest, catching his pierced nipple between two of your fingers, tweaking it harshly.

His breathing speeds up as you grind against his arse, pressing your body flush against him and in turn, pressing him up against the door even harder. His skin is smooth under your touch, goosebumps breaking out wherever your fingertips danced, a small sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips. 

“Think you can just order me around? Have me do whatever you want?” your voice is low in his ear, your free hand running over the controls of the remote you were holding. This sudden change of pace makes Matty’s head spin, disorienting him right when he thought he had bested you, leaving you speechless. You tap the device against his hip, feeling him twitch slightly at the sudden pressure.

“I’m going to make you regret it. Wish you never gave this pretty little thing to me.” you coo into his ear, condescension coating your words. 

The click is soft, but his reaction is anything but. Matty, always so sure of himself, had bought one specifically designed to directly stimulate the prostate when inserted, the vibrations only amplifying the sensation. His knees weakened under him, the only thing holding his body up being the weight of yours pressing him up against the door.

Turning the toy off, you sigh and let him go, making him fall to the floor at the sudden loss of support. He yelps as his knees hit the hard floorboards, eyes darting up to meet yours while he tries to steady his breathing, willing himself to not get hard.

“I’ll be downstairs.” you say, and he can only nod in response, scrambling to get up and finish getting dressed, the plug shifting inside him with every move he makes, small groans spilling from his parted lips. 

It takes longer than usual for Matty to finish up, meeting you at the front door dressed in the same jeans you had left him in, paired with a yellow t-shirt, slightly too small for him. You chuckle at the sight, a small sliver of skin being revealed by the too-short fabric. 

The place was a short walk away, maybe ten minutes if you walked fast. It saved Hann the pain of having to drive and pick you up, whining about the cost of gas and how his car wouldn't be able to take much more if he was constantly chauffeuring the two of you around (you find he was overreacting a bit, but it is his car).

The process of putting on your respective shoes is done in silence, the tension thick in the air as you take your keys off the hook, stuffing them into your pocket. Matty was right behind you, fastenting the straps of his boots, the clanging metal impossibly loud in the echo of the foyer.

Sun hits your face the moment you step outside, welcoming the comfortable warmth it brought with it, a soft breeze blowing through your hair. The click of your shoes against the pavement was even, the road fairly empty as you walked, hand in hand, Matty’s fingers tightly clasping yours. 

The restaurant/pub was more Ross’ aesthetic, the earthy, wooden exterior not really what you were used to. You could feel Matty speed up as you neared the entrance, excited to finally see his mates again, have a drink and talk shit. Your hand moves away from his, gently settling on his lower back, stopping him in his tracks as he grasps the door handle, about to pull it open. 

You bring your lips to his ear, his hair slightly in the way, curls brushing against your face lightly.

“You going to behave?” you whisper, warning him. His smirk tells you all you need to know before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“In your wildest dreams.” he blows you a cheeky kiss and flings the door wide open, cutting off your retort.

Ross and Hann greet him first, lifting their pints in his direction. His laugh as he sees them is infectious, making you crack a fond smile as they all hug, Matty sliding into the booth next to Ross. George gets up from his chair, pulling you in for a tight hug and saying how nice it was to see you and Matty, pushing a french martini in your direction.

“I could kiss you.” you say, bringing the glass up to your lips, taking a grateful sip. George chuckles, his deep voice oddly comforting.

“No need, pretty sure Matty would stab my eyes out.”

“What would I do!?” Matty yells at him, only catching a small part of his sentence, too engrossed in his storytelling to listen to his answer. You wave your hand in dismissal, turning your attention to Matty’s story, a detailed recount of his first kiss. 

How he got to that topic within ten minutes of entering the joint was beyond you, but you listened, laughing at the gross descriptions of the girls lips, using way too many adjectives Ross didn't even know existed. 

The remote is heavy in your pocket, burning a hole into your skin as an idea pops into your head.

He chats animatedly, his voice loud and booming, so unmistakably him. 

“Genuinely tasted like sand, nearly impossible to get any real acti-” you cut him off by clicking the toy on, his eyes immediately widening at the sensation. He chokes a bit, his words coming out weird and in bits before he decides to try and cover it up with a cough. The guys give him a weird look and you play along, raising your eyebrows at him. 

“Alright, Matty?” Ross asks, taking a sip of his pint at the sudden, awkward silence. You grin at him, turning the vibrations down a bit so he could speak.

“Everythings good, just got a fucked throat.” he smooth talks his way out of it, glaring at you from across the table as the conversation shifts.

You continue toying with him, playing with the remote mindlessly as the minute tick by, another round of drinks being bought by Hann. Whenever he goes to speak, you make a point to turn the vibrations up, even if only a little bit, just to watch him squirm in his seat, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Mate, you look wrecked. Sure you're okay?” Hann presses a paternal hand to his head, checking his temperature. Matty was flushed a bright shade of pink, a look of pleasure on his face only you could truly recognise, having seen him in this exact position a thousand times. Yearning, begging, willing to do anything just to finally have some relief.

“Y-yeah sorry, I must've caught something.” he forces out, a slight edge to his voice as you eye him, catching a suspicious glance from George next to you.

“Go home then, I'll even drive you back.” he offers, earning a groan from the other two men. Apologizing, you offer to buy everyone a round on you as a peace offering for leaving early. Hann promises to come back after, not letting Matty’s little bout of illness ruin a perfectly good outing. If only they knew.

He’s a bit sick I reckon, nothing a good rest cant fix.” you move to get up, brushing off your jeans as you shuffle out of the booth, watching Matty closely.

“Dickhead.” he mutters as he passes by, being led to the car by Adam. You grin from ear to ear, taking your revenge.

“Watch it, sweetheart.” you click the vibrator on higher, making his knees buckle and he falls into your arms, a look of betrayal, mixed with undeniable pleasure, evident on his face.

“Jesus, Matty, let's get you home.” you mutter, your voice one of faux-concern as you stroke his hair, half carrying him to the car.

The car ride is oddly quiet, Hann making casual conversation as Matty curls up in the backseat, knees to his chest, feigning illness. The radio plays softly in the background, some country stuff that was popular.

“No music commentary today? Pretty sure this is Taylor Swift.” you chuckle at your mates words, watching Matty’s reaction in the rearview mirror. 

“She’s fit.” His voice is slightly raspy, teasing as he makes eye contact through the reflection, almost as if challenging you. You roll your eyes, a prick of jealousy bubbling up inside of you.

“Not as fit as my girl though.” he adds, making Hann groan in disgust.

“I don't need to bear witness to your weird flirting. It's bad enough having to watch you drunk snog every week.” 

Even though you tried to keep your affection to a minimum around the guys, with alcohol being thrown into the mix it was impossible to keep your hand off each other. The brick wall of the alleyway behind the bar had seen a lot of makeout sessions, and more often than not, Hann or George would walk out for a smoke right when Matty was shoving his tongue down your throat.

“Why do you watch us? Might be a sign, mate.” Matty mumbles, kicking the back of the driver's seat aggressively, making it shake.

“I hope you choke.”

“So does she.” he sniggers, wiggling his eyebrows at an exhausted Adam, at his limit with Matty’s bullshit for the day.

“Ugh, please stop.” 

You wave goodbye to him and walk up to the front door, unlocking it swiftly as Matty trails behind you, legs weak and barely holding himself upright as the toy buzzed inside of him. He lets out a string of gasps as you turn it up, clicking a total of two times with an intention to overwhelm him. 

“What's wrong, love? Too much?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. His eyes are glazed over, tears threatening to spill as pleasure radiates through his entire body.

“F-fuck me, jesus thats high.” he pants, chest heaving as you grin, satisfied.

“You picked it out.”

“Not to be used against me.” he shoots back, slowly getting used to the sensation, his mind clearing enough to speak properly.

“And whose fault is that?” you press your lips to his in a chaste kiss, the weight of you against him driving him insane, getting lost in your touch. Pulling away suddenly, you put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“Fuck you-” he cuts himself off with a choked moan, his hand twitching as he attempted to stand up straight.

“Go upstairs and wait nice and pretty for me, yeah? I'll be right there.”

He moves faster than you expect, stumbling up the stairs in the direction of your shared bedroom, his footsteps heavy.

You know exactly what you want to do, the whole day building up to this exact moment. Gathering a few items from a certain box that lived on the shelf in your living room, simple and unassuming, you follow his path, peeling off your shirt as you walk, discarding it somewhere in the hallway.

Matty is naked on the bed when you enter the room, back slightly arched as the plug pressed up against his prostate, his cock hard and aching, leaking all over the sheets. Your heart skips a beat when he smirks at you, his hair thrown carelessly over his face curls obscuring a small part of it.

“No strip-tease today?” he shakes his head, smug expression wiped from his face as his eyes fall on your chest, clad in only a simple, black bra.

“Can’t fucking- please darling, please I need you so bad.” he whimpers, hips bucking upwards as you dangle the remote in front of him, kneeling onto the bed between his legs.

You look up at him with an innocent expression, eyes wide as you watch him squirm, so desperate for your touch it made him dizzy.

“What do you want from me?” you whisper, the edge to your voice making Matty still. Obviously, he was expecting more of a fight, more begging, more effort. You were in a different sort of mood today, much to his delight. 

“Sit on my face, make me earn it, please. Wanna taste you on my tongue, make you feel so good.” he moans, the toy making him see stars behind his eyes. Matty’s in a daze that only happens every so often, his cocky and arrogant demeanor nowhere to be seen. Instead, it's replaced by a look of utter devotion, willingness to give up every fiber of himself to you, hand over his mind, body, and soul, placing it carefully in your hands.

“So eager.”

“Only for you.”

His cock twitches against his stomach as you peel off your jeans, your panties quick to follow suit, gone in a pile on the floor. Eyes trained on you, he watches how you shuffle upwards, glistening cunt hovering over his mouth in anticipation. His hands come up to grip your thighs, attempting to pull you down onto him, your resistance making him frown.

“I don’t want to crush you.” you murmur, a small moment of weakness in a situation where you held all the power. He looks at you confused before reassuringly shaking his head, running his fingers over your cunt, making you gasp in pleasure.

“Please.” his voice cracks, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine at the simple word.

Lowering yourself onto him, he tugs you completely onto his mouth, not letting you hover. The room instantly fills with your moans, the sounds bouncing off the walls and going straight to his cock, beads of precum spilling from his tip.

The toy buzzes against his prostate, making him whimper against your cunt as you play with the settings, never letting him get used to it before switching it up. His tongue laps at your clit, sucking it between his lips, creating a delicious suction he knew made your mind go blank. You grab onto the metal bed frame for stability, back arching as the pleasure between your legs took over your entire body.

You hear him whine beneath you, the pressure of the plug getting to be too much, his hips bucking wildly for any sort of friction, being met with only air. The obscenity of his actions only spurs you on, filthy words falling from your lips as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

“So good for me, eating me all messy. Like it when I tell you how good you're being for me?” you breath, words broken up by gasps of pleasure as he draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue. His curls stick to his forehead, the room stinking of sex and his fucking perfume, clinging to his skin like some kind of sex pollen.

“Fuck, i’m so close, please make me cum.” you breathe, looking down to rake your eyes over his face, being met with a blissed out expression as he shoves his way inside of you, tongue stroking your velvety walls.

“Oh fuck, fuck, right there just keep doing that.” he lets you grind against his face, licking a thick stripe over your folds, making you shudder as your climax hits you like a freight train, pleasure crashing over you in mind numbing waves, your legs clamping around his head.

It takes you longer than normal to catch your breath, your skin sticky with sweat as you pant, shuffling down his body to settle on his hips, his cock grinding against your arse from behind.

“So good, love the way you clench around my tongue.” you cringe, screwing your eyes shut at his choice of words. You flush a deep shade of red when he winks at you, licking his lips provocatively, refusing to break eye contact.

“You're so filthy, can you at least try to use metaphors? Christ.”

“Nah, much better seeing you blush for me.” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, looking unimpressed by his attempt at a flirt. You’d believe he was only joking, purely messing around if it wasn't for the way his cock leaked onto the sheets, twitching at every vibration of the toy inside of him.

“God, your ego is huge.”

“Not the only thing that's huge.” jesus.

“Oh, fuck off, honestly.”

“Only if you promise to fuck me first.” his tone changes, and you know he’s deadly serious.

His eyes flicker over to the strap laying innocently on the bed, silently begging you to have some sort of mercy.

“Did it feel good, almost having the guys catch you?” you ask, lowering your voice as you reach for the toy, your movements excruciatingly slow. He shuffles under you, one of his arms lazily resting behind his head, trying to appear lax.

“Felt even better seeing you watch me, trying to get me to react.” you giggle, his words ringing painfully true.

The whole point of playing with the controls was to see exactly what made him squirm, moan against his glass and attempt to cover the whole thing up with a cough, eyes desperate to find yours as you chatted to George, pretending to be blissfully unaware of his little predicament.

“You did, didnt you?” of course he did, how could he not?

“You try having a massive plug pressed up against your prostate for an hour.”

“Youre so vulgar, fuck's sake.” you groan, pressing a hand to your forehead in disappointment. You loved him, but Matty’s choice of words was incredibly unsexy at times, ruining the mood.

“Just-” he starts, cut off by his own gasp, the toy shifting inside him slightly, hitting his G-spot with jarring accuracy.

“What?” you tease, narrowing your eyes at him as he flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading from his face down to his chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“Just- fuck me, i’ve been ready for you since-” he yelps when your hands find his waist, maneuvering him onto his stomach, quite aggressively at that. His face is pushed into a decorative pillow, muffling his sounds of protests, much to your delight.

“Since?”

“Since you pressed me up against that door.” he mumbles, rutting against the mattress, an attempt at some kind of relief, having spent the better part of two hours right on that edge, nothing substantial to push him off it.

“Really? Must’ve been pretty painful, walking around hard where our mates could see you.” You think back to Ross’ weird look. Matty had already let slip that he told him more than was necessary, the thought making you shudder. Imagine if he knew the actual reason you had left in such a hurry, desperate to get home to ‘nurse Matty back to health’.

“Please, darling, I'm so ready for it, just let go. Fuck me so dumb I cant think. I deserve it.” he moans, pressing his hips towards you, arching his back. You catch a glimpse of the plug, the sight making your heart speed up, thrumming against your ribcage as you fumble with the strap, using his little ramble to slip it over your hips, tightening the clasps.

“You deserve it, do you?” your mouth is right against his ear as you lean over him, pressing the tip of the flush against his arse. The remote is abandoned on the other side of the bed, too out of reach for you to turn down the toy, leaving Matty helpless and twitching, the pleasure being just too little to make him cum. He lets out an infuriated groan when you chuckle, the bed creaking as you get comfortable on your knees.

“What you deserve.” you whisper into his ear, hearing his breath hitch at the proximity. “Is to be fucking destroyed.” he gasps, feeling your fingertips ghost over the base of the plug before slowly slipping it out of him, leaving him empty and wanting.

“Please.” The word is small, miniscule as he trembles under your touch, his body limp against the mattress. 

You take your time, pressing the tip of the strap against his entrance, teasing him until he jerks under you, his voice high pitched and exhausted, yearning for any kind of relief. Brushing his hair out of his face, you grab his jaw, making his neck crane to look at you. His eyes are wide, an insatiable hunger evident in them.

Sultry moans spill from his lips as you press inside of him, barely giving him a moment to breathe before thrusting out, setting a fast-paced rhythm as he writhed against you, grinding back onto the strap like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, thats so good, oh my- yesyesyes.” he whines, hands moving down to grip his cock. You catch him before he does, pinning his wrists above his head as you relentlessly drill into him, drinking every noise he makes.

“So deep, shit. Fuck me, god- harder.” your stomach flips, the sound of him begging you to take him even harder making you feel dizzy with power. He groans against the pillow when you speed up, one of your hands gripping his waist for leverage, hitting his prostate with scary accuracy.

“Harder, yeah? I’m going to take you apart bit by bit, love, make you scream my name until your throat is actually sore.”

“Feel how good I fuck you? Reduce you to little pieces at my feet where you belong.” you're drunk with power, Matty’s twitching and desperate frame beneath you sending you to another plane of existence, making you believe that if there truly was a heaven, this would be it.

“I’m yours, fuck- all yours- Please, don’t stop.” his eyes water at the force of your thrusts, and you feel him shake at the strength of his impending orgasm. You reach down his mouth at his neck, biting down hard, littering his neck with deep, aggressive bruises that you knew would last for days to come, if not weeks.

"You make me feel so good." he mutters, and you feel a sense of pride swell up inside of you. 

“Cum for me, love, please, I wanna see how good I make you feel.” his muscles tense under your grasp, arms flexing under the skin of his tattoos. 

“I’m so close, please don't stop, fuck, I love you so much.”

You love him too. It's all you could do, show him how much you loved him, how much he occupied your every thought and action. Everything depended on him, nothing existing without the knowledge that he was by your side, giving your life true, veritable meaning.

“So good for me, Matthew. Let go, feel it, let it consume you.” he frantically grinds against the mattress, chasing his high as you whisper dirty words into his ear, encouraging him.

“Oh god- just- fuckkk.” he finally cums with a cry of your name, hips bucking up against your strap as he heaves, sputtering and moaning uncontrollably

“So pretty when you cum, fuck, love it when you scream my name, love.” he goes limp as spurts of cum spill onto the sheets, his thighs tensing at the sheer intensity of his orgasm, eyes screwed shut with bliss.

Your hand releases his wrists, soothing raking your nails over his back, bringing him down slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“You’re perfect, my gorgeous boy.” you coo, peppering kisses down his bare skin, licking at the harsh bite marks from earlier, blooming on his neck.

“Yeah, m’yours darling, all yours.” he mumbles, hazy from his climax, mind still foggy from the pure pleasure he had experienced. You slip out of him, watching how he clenched around the toy, as if trying to keep you inside of him.

“I love you.” you whisper, hugging him tightly from behind.

“I love you too, now get down here.” he violently tugs you down next to him, cupping your face in both hands, still trembling slightly. A genuine smile spreads onto his face as he kisses you gently, enjoying this tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you, wanting it to last forever. The two of you giggle into each other's mouths, giddy and relaxed, at peace.

“I love you.” he rolls his eyes playfully, grinning against your lips.

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

[tweakerist]

Have you ever/would you ever discuss your writing process (if you have one?) I'm always really curious as to how people who write very large fanfics go about doing it. Plus, you're doing a really nice job :)

Of course! Id love to discuss my process no one’s asked me before lol! So I can only talk about my singular long fic experience with nervous young inhumans and if you think i’d offer advice on what you should do, then maybe reframe that thought because i dont think im doing a good job at it lol.

i started writing nervous young inhumans on a whim, i wrote the single scene where creek kisses and then went from there. i dont think this is a bad idea, i actually think its one of the only good things i did in this regard, if ur inspired, then write whatever u want for to happen no matter the order it will be in the story, but when i impulsively posted the first chapter with nothing else to guide me i definitely jumped the gun. i got stuck almost immediately, lost with absolutely not direction, so then i had to sit down and draw an outline for the story. i recommend doing this first, or at least doing it before you actually post whatever you have of your fic, it will help you avoid the pressure of having to update in a consistent manner while not knowing where youre taking the story towards. i dont think it should be necessarily as detailed or tight of an outline, i actually think you should leave a little bit of wiggle room for yourself in case u come up with something different that u wanna change, just you know, the major plot points, or the essence of the story, characters you wanna include, personality traits you'd like to show them exposing, themes you wanna explore etc etc. i know there's people who do outlines of chapter per chapter, and honestly it sounds like a dream to me, to be this organized, but i could never do that because i change a lot of things on the go (one time i got rid of full 5k words because i changed my mind on what i wanted to happen in the chapter). i like taking my time with characters, even if its secondary ones, so i have full character sheets of them with their canonical personalities and also a list of hcs i just came up with, even if i dont really show them in the story, it helps me understand the characters and how they'd react to situations. uh, i dont really know what else to say, i dont force myself to write when im uninspired, even if i feel the pressure of wanting to update, i refuse to put out something im not proud of, so it also shows how inconsistent i am, but when im inspired i can easily sit down and write 8k words in one sitting and then just have the new chapter out a couple of hours later after a round of editing. i get these bouts of almost manic inspiration and i let myself just write. i think about this point particularly, if you're like me, and you care about being consistent, then i'd recommend to not post your story until you have completed it or at least have a good 80 percent of it done, so you won't suffer nightmares like i do lol. i hope this is answer enough, and that im being coherent, and if you have any further questions or anything, i'm here! :)

[ihaveforgortoomany]

What a Sonetto and Vertin "breakup" would look like (aka the Foundation finally forcing Sonetto to choose Vertin or the Foundation)

(Aka I will start throwing random fic ideas to people here in hope more fics are written for R1999, and because Im better at anaylsis than writing a coherent story with dialogue lol)

A running theory of sorts Ive had for a while in terms of main story (global friendly btw) is the critical point in Vertin and Sonetto's relationship, that at one point Sonetto will be forced to choose between Vertin and the Foundation. It is inevitable that Vertin's quest for the truth of the Storm, her mother and desire to save as many people from the Storm will and has come into conflict with the wishes of the Foundation - as seen in Book 3 with the Reformation Bill.

So what will finally cause such a dire situation to force Sonetto into such a situation? @sleeplesssmoll brought this idea that its Vertin that creates this tension, taking a path even the loyal puppy cannot fathom to follow and default to the Foundation. I would wager the Manus will present an offer so beneficial to Vertin that she will eventually side or at the very least need to partner with the Manus for a bit. Much to the surprise of everyone.

(Lets say on a critical mission either Sophia or FMN present a particular good offer to Vertin, a solution where very risky in Vertin's eyes may be the solution she is looking for - maybe the opportunity to save reversed individuals or a way to bring them back, the only thing stopping Vertin accepting on the spot is her being called away by fighting against Manus forces. Still the offer still stands)

What exactly? Maybe it is information about the Storm (we know so far either the Foundation or the Manus know the full intent of the Storm, only finding ways to benefit from it. And yes the Foundation does benefit from the Storm, Ill talk about this at a later point). Alongside this Manus proposal the Foundation has started to crack down on Vertin, pressuring her for more results and attempting in every way to limit her actions - this pressure starts becoming very intense on Vertin, even with Madam Z's aid her workload is needlessly increasing and borderline impossible to stop. We dont know who the White Marble House is, only that they are the ultimate power in the Foundation - maybe it is them holding all the secrets to Vertin's past that they choose to hide.

What I am getting at is a situation where the Foundation no longer benefits Vertin, instead is just detrimental that this starts to waver her alr shakey relationship with the Foundation. Less and less (in small ways) does she comply to their wishes the more the Foundation (mainly Constantine) look to pressure Sonetto into doing something about it.

Sonetto slowly (but noticeably) starts to question Vertin, Constantine's influence does have a large impact on Sonetto, making her second guess herself and her confidence (Book 3 gaslighting). Sure Vertin doesn't mind Sonetto's questions, she loves to answer Sonetto's inquires about the outside world but recently the questions have been ... concerning.

Questioning her goals, is what she is doing even correct; all framed as Sonetto's genuine concern but unconsciously laced with Constantine's influence enough for Vertin to feel pressure on all sides.

Until suddenly something happens, big enough for Vertin to finally express her frustration at everything, the Foundation refusing to cooperate with her as before, this feeling of a bottleneck hold growing tighter and tighter until now she cannot simply brush aside and bottle down. This spirals out in a mission in a cave, maybe alongside Foundation operatives under Constantine that start to question Vertin's leadership, where Sonetto can do nothing to help.

(Its hard to write Vertin actually voicing her frustration)

An argument might break between Sonetto and Vertin, not a full on screaming match of course, but a noticeable outcry of frustration at Sonetto, Constantine and the Foundation - at how every time Vertin suddenly gains ground or takes a step towards the truth the Foundation finds ways to circumvent this progress under the mantra "For the Good of Mankind". Maybe Vertin finally does voice this frustration at Sonetto just accepting everything, a crack in that Timekeeper facade Vertin always holds - all the signs are there Sonetto, why can't you see? Or rather why don't you see the world with your own eyes? Not clouded by Foundation dogma but truly your own eyes?

At this point Vertin chooses to go with the Manus, recreating that scene in the Breakaway (will some of the suitcase follow her? I wouldn't think so, many join Vertin due to their grievances with the Manus). Sonetto is finally ordered to restrain Vertin against their wishes - and Sonetto with only a moment hesitation begins her attack.

(I really do like fight scenes in fics huh?)

Vertin only can outsmart Sonetto here, Sonetto isn't the Foundation's failsafe for her without good reason. Maybe she fakes Sonetto greatly injuring her to incapacitate her temporarily. Enough to run away and create distance, through the collapsing of the cave they are in. @sleeplesssmoll brought up an idea that Sonetto says a line that mirrors the one she said in Book : "It was the pleasure to be your Chief Assistant, Vertin".

(Thoughts? Feel free to run with this and make something out of it, and feel free to run any ideas with me about this)

(I have a couple ideas of scenarios running around I might throw here, its a mixed bag between angst and fun, ill post them eventually)

[definitelynotshouting]

fic writer interview!

shamelessly yoinking from @karliahs bc this looks fun as hell to do :]

How many works do you have on AO3?

32 fics total, between my main and rough draft pseud!! which feels like a really small amount, honestly-- i think my private WIPs list is MUCH higher 😂😂😂😂 if we're counting my very first (and very abandoned) ao3 acct too, then that number is bumped up to 35!!

What's your total AO3 word count?

163,211, and a good 65k of that was written this year somehow??? according to my statistics ._. lowkey crazy to think about

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

paid for it with all of my blood (BNHA | 8,452)

at times so self destructive (BNHA | 4,554)

lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) (HC/LIFE | 3,618)

or we can just have conversation (MSA | 1,834)

the art of rawgabbitry (BNHA | 1,609)

if youve been following me since my bnha fics in 2018 you deserve a veteran's discount

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i used to answer every single comment i got, honestly, unless it came by years after i posted it-- the only reason i dont as much anymore is because it gets REALLY overwhelming for me to respond to everyone after the initial barrage 😅😅 the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak etc etc. but i do read every comment and appreciate them SO SO MUCH, and whenever i find one particularly moving or want to just reassure people im still working on something i'll respond to those :]

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

not counting the wips that just never got finished and left off before their main shit could resolve, id say at times so self destructive (BNHA)-- i mean i LITERALLY ended it with izuku potentially dying 😭😭😭😭

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

tbh i dont think i write happy endings so much as i write hopeful, bittersweet, or open-ended ones-- i tend to like catharsis more than fluff when it comes down to it. but out of my fluff fics i think honey it's starting to storm (HC) is one of the genuinely sweetest ive written. my runner-ups on that would probably be when the smoke does finally pass (TMA) and or we could just have conversation (MSA) :]

Do you write crossovers?

not typically, and ive never published any, but i am definitely not immune to them 😂😂😂😂 i think my most niche crossover ive actually written (never to see the light of day) was a Nine Lives of Chloe King and Supernatural fic that was the definition of self-indulgent rot. only a little less niche than that was a Mortal Instruments and Supernatural crossover (theres a running theme here lol) lying in snippets on an ancient google doc in my oldest gmail acct. reread that one recently and its shockingly coherent for being written in like. 2016. id even call it decent (though theres a lot id change up if i were writing it now)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

idk if it'd be considered hate but once i wrote a fic inspired by someone else's when i was very new to ao3, let them know (i didnt know about the "inspired by" option back then), and they got mad at me in my comments section because in their words, "its better than mine" 😭😭😭😭💥💥💥💥💥💥

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

YOU COULD SAY THAT

as for what kind, honestly whatever strikes my fancy-- usually character/relationship studies, or just a fun focus on character intimacy. love 2 be asexual<3 love 2 write asexual sex<3

i had a discussion with my qpp recently about how in all honesty the smut i write is pretty tame, its just the character emotions written behind it that makes it feel a bit deranged. smth smth scarian is a chemical explosion. u understand

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!!!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeppers!! the art of rawgabbitry (BNHA) received a translation to Russian, which i always found a bit funny because rawgabbitry is. one of my least favorite works ive ever written, if only for the type of comments it tended to receive back in the day 😭😭😭😭

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

ive never managed it honestly-- i get a bit precious about my process, which can make it hard to collaborate on that level. but its something ive always wanted to grow enough as a writer to try :]

What's your all-time favorite ship?

not so much of a singular OTP type of guy as i have favorite pairings per fandom im in-- that being said rn its scarian :P

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

pretty much all of my dsmp wips honestly. i may surprise myself someday, but for now i just have zero urge to actually finish any of them

What are your writing strengths?

like my pal karliahs im gonna rip these from the comments ive received 😅😅😅 but id definitely say imagery is my strongest skill!! i have a very strong imagination, and tend to see fic scenes as movie scenes in my head which i then transcribe into written format. id like to say im also really skilled at characterization and realistic dialogue that captures character voices very well!! and frankly i just love emotional realism so much i cant NOT write it, its always leaking into everything i do

What are your writing weaknesses?

i tend to get a little too funky and abstract with my descriptions sometimes-- that can work for some scenes, but grounding everything so that it feels more real and makes actual sense to the reader is something i often have to do on the second, third, and final passes

also to every person who has to crack open a thesaurus to understand what i write, i am so fucking sorry😭💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

no thoughts beyond if its not a language you're proficient in you should probably get that checked over by a native speaker, just in case :P

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

fairy tail..... ff.net was a dark place

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

crying sobbing wailing as i desperately beg my brain to start writing that post-canon siffrin and odile relationship study. unfortunately i dont think i can have more than one longfic on my docket at a time so it shrimply must wait

What's your favorite fic you've written?

to the surprise of absolutely nobody, i'd have say lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) (HC/LIFE) :]

No obligation, but im tagging: @raichett, @kayawolfhorse, @boonbeenblade, @sillyfairygarden, and @grimfey !!! And anyone else who wants to do this ofc :]]]❤️❤️❤️❤️

[xyloophones]

Hi! I just finished reading Razzmatazz again and gah its so good. I love how you portray all the characters and the humor and cute moments between them is just peak. I downloaded it so I could read it on the flight, and i highlighted like half of the fic for the funny or fluffy moments. I love how much thought you've clearly put into everything, and how real you make it all feel. Also the worldbuilding. I LOVE worldbuilding and bnha drives me crazy sometimes because It feels like horikoshi did not put enough thought into some of the elements he put in, so when authors expand on that and add some rationale and make it feel like yeah... people can exist in this world. Well. It makes me go a little crazy and you did such a good job of it and I am in love

I haven't been in this fandom for a couple years now, and haven't even felt the desire to read a bnha fic. But razzmatazz/despite your good intentions is one I just keep coming back to. Cataclysm hasnt been updated for a few years, and I don't know if you have plans to come back to it as some point or not, but I DO know that I'll probably keep rereading and lovint it even if it never gets another update

So. Thank you for writing. I hope the next writing session you have comes with easy ideas and coherent flow of words

hi !!!! i'm so bad at checking my tumblr inbox sorry !!!

i'm really glad you were able to download and enjoy my fic on your flight!! i personally HATE flying and i hope reading my fic was able to help pass the time quickly. on the worldbuilding note: this fic literally came to be because i kind of hate the worldbuilding in bnha LMFAO like why does the narrative just gloss over some of the most interesting things about the universe.... horikoshi ur killing me here.....

thank you for the well wishes! cataclysm is turning out to be the hardest thing i've ever had to write (including my literal actual novel ;__; why am i having such a hard time with my silly little anime fanfic, i dont know) but i swear if its the last thing i do i WILL finish it! more for my sake tbh

[liloinkoink]

as someone who also has so much homework to do. what are your thoughts on treesekai ren (speaking of treesekai, i actually sent that fic to a friend like a year ago who doesn't watch hermitcraft etc and i remember we had fun reading it and giggling over the anime of it all so tysm for that ♡)

i am no longer doing homework so i can share thoughts. it is almost 3am tho so idk theyll be coherent

first im glad you two enjoyed it! dont know how i feel about the fact it's breached containment but it is good to know it holds up

[speaking of, this fic was posted a year ago, so if you dont know what treesekai is, here is the link for you]

second i think all the time about just how lonely treesekai Ren is. ive made posts like this before but Ren is just... he's so lonely. Ren is a character with a lot of love in him, always. he always wants someone to care about. often many someones! he gravitates towards big loyal teams, and he usually spends his time at home building a place for that team to be protected and safe, and is willing to die to defend that home (and he has. twice.)

dogwarts was a big team whose loyalty he took seriously and whose home he died to defend. the shadow alliance had matching skins and, until they went red, all ren's loyalty, and their base of operations was one of the last bases standing bc Ren continually put it back together for his teammates. Ren and BigB died on the doorstep of of box, with ren's last words being about defending it. home and the people in it are important to him

treesekai Ren is the same, but he doesnt really have anywhere to point it. he has a home, but what matters to Ren about a home is that theres people in it. he loves the country he rules but he thinks if he does that hard enough he'll have someone, and he just doesnt. he assumes he can trust his staff, thinks he'll be able to make alliances with other nations, hopes his fiance will be that person he needs. but he isnt! and Ren cant trust him! or his staff! or other royalty! no one else in the world cares about him! many of the people close to him ultimately want him dead!

so, in the game, he ends up paranoid, and he ends up evil, and he ends up dead

but in the fic he meets Martyn, and he gets that connection and affection and care hes been looking for all this time. and like. it fascinates me how much Martyn doesnt know how much hes changed ren's life. Ren isnt evil for nothing--above all he's lonely and hurt. by saving him from loneliness, Martyn saves his life. he could abandon the game plotline then and there, completely forgoing all the normal isekai tropes of running thru every event w future knowledge and picking the best possible outcome, and Ren would no longer die. just by being there and sincerely caring for Ren, Martyn has already achieved the best of all possible worlds. and he doesnt even know it!

i just. i love how lonely he is and how simple he is. he just wants to be loved. he just wants to love someone. he's a dating sim character, after all, and that's the whole point, isn't it? his world exists just so the people in it can be loved, and he's not allowed to have any of that. if youd just give him a romance, he'd be more than happy to be a love interest instead, but he isnt! he isnt allowed! no wonder he loses it. on some level, maybe he knows hes being denied the fundamental purpose for existence in his universe

this is rambly bc its rlly late but im just. it must hurt more than anything to be the one character in a world about love who is meant to be completely unlovable

[bunni-v1]

hi i just wanted to pop into your asks because it'll take me a while to rb and get all of my thoughts out about the posts of yours that i read (and also i want to reread them) but I just wanted to say that I love how (from what I've seen of your works) you have such a good grasp of characters and their mannerisms/thoughts/feelings like- it's actually so impressive. I dont want to clog your inbox so I'll just focus on the aventurine hcs you wrote- he means a lot to me as a character and it feels like a lot of people miss the mark when it comes to him (I'm admittedly also very particular about him because I'm so invested in him as a person) (not to overexplain but it's not like thats a super bad thing he's just very convoluted and it happens so it makes sense that people sometimes mischaracterize him) but your headcanons fit him SO WELL i was kicking my feet and everything. I love how you detailed the very real and rough parts of a relationship with him, and i think you have a very eloquent way of wording your thoughts that would make 20 minutes of reading feel like 2. also dumb thing to be happy about but in your pinned comment you mentioned you write him with more melanin in mind and that made me lowkey so happy because i dont think I've consciously ever seen someone else think about him that way when writing him and it's such a low bar for me to be happy about this but i just wanted to let you know how much i appreciate that little tidbit (even if it doesnt change anything about who these characters are it's just . idk really nice to see) (i hope this was somewhat coherent I'm gonna go back to sleep now tysm for the food) (and also tysm for the cookie run kingdom hcs oh my god we've been fed)

Hi I’m gonna cry 🥲

Stuff like this is always so nice that I don’t know what to do with myself. It feels nice to have my efforts validated, because I really really really do try to be as accurate as possible to the character — even when the ask or the situation might make them be a little ooc.

With Aventurine, I took so much care because he is a character that means a lot to me. It took me a long long time of writing to get his headcanons done, and I’m still not satisfied with his but perfection is impossible.

To put it into perspective, my headcanons (ALL OF THEM) are written over a period of multiple days with multiple drafts, rewrites, and edits before I am totally satisfied. Other fics that I get out in a short period of time STILL take me multiple hours and rereads and edits before I put them out. I really do care, very very deeply about what I write.

Even with characters I’m not a fan of (like Malleus from twst, for example) I really try hard to do right. Because while he might not be my favorite, he IS someone’s and that should be enough for me to care. Putting my biases aside to write from canon is so important, and without shaming other authors (because they’re so incredibly talented too), I wish I saw that more in fanfic too.

That’s why I take so much time and care and dedicate so much to my work, because I care a lot. I’m always so happy when that care comes through and people see and feel it.

While I don’t get every ask done (because the volume of asks I have is impossible), the ones I do I make sure that they’re good, because they deserve to be.

[ciaran]

holyyy, hopping over here from tumblr after i spent the night binge reading ALL ur hsr and genshin work on Ao3. I don’t have an archive acc, so taking the liberty of dumping my thoughts here.

Initially i wanted to talk ab one fic, then i read another, then another, and each time i was soooo bamboozled that all coherent thought left my head. Your writing is genuinely so so so atmospheric and beautiful, i’ve had to go back and re-read excerpts from your fics over and over again because some of them just felt THAT heavy. I think your writing has given me the taste of something, a feeling of sorts, that i’ll chase for the rest of my life.

I adore, adore, ADORE how you set the tone for a fic. “snow water” wrioney fic from 2023 was the first one i read, and i was so enamoured by the writing that i had to check out other work from you, and its amazing how all your works have this strong contrast in tones that remain consistent throughout the fic, it never once feels stagnant. I’ve been re-reading your wrioney over and over again, and i believe i’ll spend the entirety of summer memorising each word from the fic and commit it to my memory lol. It really really really made my day. There’s these certain parts that feel so raw and jarring that despite never having these experiences myself, i feel like i’m living in the skin of the characters you write of. Particularly for Snow water, i think there’s something so enamouring about all environmental descriptions being paired with relatively mundane/menial things, it felt very achingly raw to read and re-read and re-read again because the overall weight of the work refuses to settle in at once.

Hope you continue writing, and i’ll continue gushing :))

thank you thank you thank you so much!!! snow water is so...i dont quite know how people came to like that work so much but im always so glad that they do? i wrote it in one day and it was one of those things that, just, wouldnt let me go until i wrote it because it was burning inside me. i never expected it to work so much for other people as well but im really really happy that it does!!! its strange how the things that...i think are just a way for me to put myself on the page in a way (not that anything about snow water directly reflects my life, moreso i think...the thickest part of it to me is the way that lyney fails at school, fails at so many things, and is still trying to be happy; i was really not doing great in college that year, that time) like these things seem to touch other people too. i do believe in the work of editing and polishing and refining a piece until i can stand by every part of it but at the same time your words remind me that there is often a value to rawer and less polished work. thank you so much again <3

[threebooksoneplot]

ive been thinkin about the beau-dies-in-every-book challenge (im rly hoping youll write these alt endings tbh) & i realised that one thing i find rly satisfying about beaus story is that nothing is neatly wrapped up. its even more of a tragedy than breaking dawns ending (if its tragedy is bella loses her humanity), because she gets to keep everything else and more in the meantime, whereas beau... well. goes to his own funeral and never gets to mend his relationship w charlie. and thats so much more Compelling to me. esp if the alt ending to the twilight storyline is that edward decides hes going to leave her and bella deludes herself into thinking her near-death experience w james is behind her/them.

anyway i dont rly know where im going w this except that i have a theory that breaking dawn would be Way more compelling if it was a renesmee-free timeline (best wishes with that one) with fewer neatly-wrapped bows and more Tragedy and less main-character syndrome (that might be asking for too much?). and maybe smeyer coulda even stretched the whole plot out w a separate publication that had more on the volutri plot (with the movie battle scene even) and gave the series a more satisfying ending. just a (semi-coherent) thought (or two)

100% agreed re: the differences in beau's and bella's endings and their respective stakes. that might be one of the reasons we're so attached to beau—we've seen him suffer in ways we've never seen bella suffer, (or suffer consequences at least.) maybe that's why he has more blorbo status. either that or we're just misogynists 😔

you may be right about breaking dawn!! we know it's gonna be a huge challenge for us, so we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. but never forget, we're writing Break-It Fic (and sometimes...Keep It The Same Fic) rather than Fix-It Fic, so probably best to keep those expectations low 😉

[luvo27]

17!!! 21!!! 22!!!

17!!! Do you regularly discuss fics, or do you keep most of the info to yourself before you start posting?

ohhh this is such a good question actually!!! I tend to discuss my fantasy high fics a lot more than my dc ones, and i can be a snippet sharing fiend in discord servers im in!! i do always feel like I tip basically my entire hand about my wips when i say anything ever, but i probably share a lot less info than i think i do until i post!!

21!! what is something that no one has caught about one of your fics?

this one was tricky because i definitely like to chat about stuff when i reply to comments, and some quieter folks definitely might have caught some stuff that i dont think anyone has, and theres definitely a lot of stuff that HAS gotten caught!! i think i tend to be pretty intentionally obvious about things i want people to catch, but definitely some highlights are someone noting the carefully insidious text messages from Baron from the Baronies in The Stress of Being Seventeen vs. the Immutable Law of Love, and one that you caught actually, which is the layers to Tim offering to teach Cass how to drive in you do not have to be good!!

but i'm pretty sure no one has caught onto this!! in chapter 3 of you do not have to be good, there's this paragraph:

Cass can remember a time when she did not know what death was. Cass now knows, better than most, what death is. What a terrible, awful, horrendous absence it creates. What regret is now carried from that irreversible mistake.

i think in part not caught because not everyone who read the first fic read this one, and not everyone who read you do not have to be good read tell me about despair, but this is a direct call back to the opening of tell me about despair:

To Cass, death is: 1. A mistake. She didn’t know what she was doing. How could she? She understood so little, back then, she didn’t know— 2. A regret. She wishes she could take it back. She’d do anything to take it back, but unfortunately, what she did is 3. Irreversible. She can’t take it back. She can’t put that man back together, she can’t bring people back to life. She can do nothing but relive the memory of watching the fear, the panic, the drain of life and willpower and emotion, again and again and again, wishing that she’d known then what she knows now, that death is 4. Terrible. Awful. Horrendous. Any number of words, along those lines, really. It’s terrible, to see nothing where there was something once. Cass has heard people say that bodies look peaceful, when they’re dead, as if the person they were before is resting, sleeping. Cass doesn’t understand how they could come to that conclusion. Even in sleep, the body betrays thoughts, emotions, expressions, hopes and fears and dreams. In death, the body is just a collection of blood and bone and viscera. There is no rest to be had there.

22!!! what is one of your favorite tropes to write?

crack. the answer to this is always going to be crack. i dont actually write straight crack all that often but its literally my favorite thing to do ever!!! i always write more faster and i always have such a great time!! for me, it kind of alleviates any of my usual fic writer neuroses: i'm not trying to write something particularly good or an in depth character study or with a coherent plot, my main goal is to make myself laugh and if i do that, then i win!!

that being said, the line between hilarity and heartbreak is probably my favorite thing to play with in writing!! its why stephanie brown is one of my favorite characters to write, because i feel like she lends herself to it well!! its why yj 98 is one of my favorite comics!! it's why i love writing for fantasy high so much because sometimes that's exactly what the show is!! i take a lot of my storytelling philosophy from the philosophies of the cast for d20!! there's something that i think brennan lee mulligan said, about how comedy lowers your guard to allow other emotions to hit harder and more viscerally, and in the wrapup for exu calamity, the cast talked a lot about the profundity of hilarity and the hilarity of profundity. the tag crack taken seriously is probably my favorite thing on ao3!! i both want to get more cracky and also more serious, and i want those things to feed into each other!!! there's a quote that gets repeated in cathrynn m. valente's novel Space Opera: life is beautiful, and life is stupid, and i think that sums up a lot of my feelings on how i approach crack :DDD