#-coping. S/I can help)

[sucrose-soymilk]

hadn’t really regressed in a While and i didn’t realize how much i missed/dareisay needed it until i had the free time and ability to do so over the last few days and i have to say. i’m feeling a bit better

[silentalltheseyearsnomore]

Somehow got through the worst of the crisis. Didn't tell S for the first time. Told her when we saw her and she asked why we didn't reach out and we said we know she's already overwhelmed and if we were to come out the other side we needed her to still be there, we needed to protect our relationship. She got it. It sucks the situation we are both in because of complete lack of support from everywhere else. She is being our care co, advocate, therapist, attachment figure, everything at once because *no one else is* but ofc it is too much. Hence ending therapy. Because the best way she can help is to fight the system for us and get us the right support, while also staying around so we don't have another broken attachment. I know it's her doing everything she can to help us the best she can. It's just hard to not view it through the lens of so many triggers and abandonment. When the reality is she is doing ALL this, soon for free, out of care. It is just not all focused on the care littles want (cuddles lol) and more of what we need. Which is what someone who truly cares for you does.

I value her seeing the situation and knowing our therapy and relationship will be damaged if we continued the same and therefore ending therapy before the damage was too big. Like others should have done. But it still sucks that it means we have to start again with someone else AND get used to seeing her less. It sucks because she doesn't even want to see her less but her life is just so that if we don't see her at work it will be less. I know how much she is doing for us behind the scenes to fight the system and yet child parts just want the time with her. Even if logically her doing that work is what will help most. I value her so much doing this for us. It's just the fear of seeing her less is so fucking huge. From outside it may seem ridiculous because we're so lucky to have an attachment figure who wants to see us anytime she can, and the least it'll be is maybe a couple weeks.. that's kind of a lot, it's more than anyone in her personal life gets besides those she lives with, even family! We'd be fine seeing anyone else every couple weeks!! Yet going from 2 or 3 times a week to knowing she'll struggle for even once a week feels like actual death. Like, we laugh when we see the facts. But for child parts it is like literal death it feels. And I just hope it actually feels okay. We'll get used to it. We'll speak inbetween. We will be adding more support and it won't feel long at all- the isolation does add to the attachment pain, its not ALL about her. Its also about what it triggers, and about being lonely in general. We have to trust that will change. And trust we will feel connected. (Mostly I secretly hope her work thing settles so she has more time lol). Remember there is the possibility for a lot more in the future when we are better, she wants us to be involved in an amazing work thing if we get well enough. WHEN we get well enough. She WANTS us in her life. We are wanted. That is beautiful. That is everything. The rest is just noise and life in the way.

It sucks how when we are connected we feel okay but then we loss it and drown in dread. When we are together we think we can handle ending therapy, these changes, the unknown, all of it. We can feel how much she cares, we know it, we see it. She gave us the most beautiful birthday gift and held us and we talked about the fears and we both are just having to face the unknown as both our lives change. And we just have to trust. Trust that even though her life is changing, even though we have to end therapy, even though xyz, she will find time to see us. She'll still be there even if its different. Trust that this is very different to previous ex therapists (who her supervisors now want us to report and are basically blacklisting already..), because yes we are close but we are doing it healthily and slowly and boundaried. She is not being our mum, she is not promising things she cant deliver like they did. She says the hard things when needed, she knows limits. Trust that that doesn't mean she cares less. Trust she'll still fight to get us the right support. And we have to trust that the right support will actually happen, despite the huge obstacles. And we have to trust we can hold on until it comes. We have to trust so many things we can't see yet.

And when we are with her, we do trust. But when we are apart, it's just overwhelming. We can't take another broken attachment. And I do trust her not to do what others did but I also know the whole situation is so stressful and she is one human trying to do her best. And so are we. I do kind of think it may be okay with her.. she won't go. I feel less sure about getting specialised therapy funded. And I know all our stuff and needs can't fall on our relationship or it will suffer. So we need the other support to work out. And I am scared what happens in the meantime. I've never experienced either thing- enough support or an attachment figure staying in a safe and healthy way. So even if factually it looks like she's staying and it'll be okay, we still need to experience it.

Honestly I have no idea how we'll feel with this transition. I have a feeling either we'll feel like we are drowning, while S is abroad and when back will see her less even if she's doing more for us behind the scenes, and no therapy..... OR, we may feel better. Maybe we dont need our attachment wounds constantly poked at. Maybe space to breathe will help. We've done SO much work internally attachment wise. We've gone from wanting child parts dead to calling them (pet names) lovingly like B did and S now does. And we've had some experiences of them being loved and wanted outside too, even if chaotic and abusive at times. I don't even really know the next step even if I was being offered it. I don't think I ever want such a deep attachment in therapy again. Some kind of attachment sure but our main one? It just feels never endingly painful. I think we do better when it's outside of therapy. And inside of it to an extent too. Just not the main and only. So maybe getting used to S outside of therapy will somehow help us see what is needed moving forward. I so wish K was safe for us..... then we'd have two attachment figures outside of therapy, and the attachment in therapy would feel less brutal and poking with its stupid hour or so a week. But she just isn't. Maybe she never will be. There's no way to know. Right now she isn't. There's S. But she can't be *everything*. And I want more outside of therapy. It's just... we don't really ever attach that way outside. Child parts never do. So I guess we just try and build the attachments and connections outside of therapy. Settle in to what S can be. And maybe we'll see therapy differently going forward.

I honestly have no fucking idea. But I do know what we've been doing isn't sustainable. I do know I don't want my main attachment figure to be my therapist. And I don't know what that means. And it's not like you have a fucking choice in who you attach to anyway lollll who am I kidding. We don't even know what we will be offered yet. Or when. In a few weeks. Years. Its so hard to keep walking forward not knowing how anything looks. And just trusting. And trusting that S won't give up fighting for us or let go of our hand. Trust ourselves that we choose to trust her for good reason and not purely attachment. Trust ourselves to feel her hand is still there even when physically apart. Trust we can keep ourselves safe when we need to. Trust that having to do so doesn't mean we don't deserve others. Child parts deserve to be rescued and protected and kept safe. And we have to trust we can do that, and that others want to, even if they can't always. Trust ourselves that we can grieve the gap between what others can do and what we deserve/d.

[lilaccoffin]

Sits here cause I know newer Tri+gun fans are gonna be rolling their eyes to the back of their skulls over v@shmeryl's portrayal in '98 and maybe even in the manga (cause I've seen ppl be like 'girl raise ur standards' over the manga too) but please.................please....I have my gripes too, but I honestly didn't see anything wrong with the manga and how it handled Meryl and Vash at all until ppl were being negative about it 😭(I still don't see an issue but I feel insecure over my love of them sometimes because of it aha...)

it's a subtle love and ppl think the little things Meryl goes "whoa" at that Vash does in regards to her are so "bare minimum-" DO YA'LL FORGET VASH IS RLLY CLOSED IN AND HAVING HIM SAY HER NAME AMONG OTHER THINGS IS A BIG DEAL BECAUSE OF IT?

Good lord, the whole time Meryl wants to get to know him and be there for him but it's hard for her when he's always pushing ppl away AND because she's got a lot of her own hang ups regarding herself, so I fucking know what Nightow was cooking with these subtle things that made Meryl's heart do the conga.

[byakuyasdarling]

If I’m going to do comms in that new style I have to have other examples,,, might draw other S/I’s but very torn on drawing them with their skrunkles

it feels I am betraying a fictional man. Yes a FICTIONAL MAN. Trauma does weird things to you.

[vampirebutterflies]

listen ‘ere boy there is a voice in ur head telling u ur fine and you don’t need to go to therapy tomorrow and that voice is a f u c k i n g liar don’t listen to it boy don’t fuckin’ listen to that rat ass bastard it does NOT have ur best interests at heart

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

TIME LOOP FIC????

yea it's about one of the Batfam characters, Steph/Spoiler, getting trapped in a timeloop where every loop, Batman dies and she has to make it so that Doesn't Happen in order to break the loop. she uh... doesn't have the best of times akskdjdkfhsk I have most of this one outlined and it includes some very fun interactions such as "slightly unhinged texting conversations between teenagers," "pulling the Dad Card," "psychosomatic symptoms due to repeating the same day over and over ("kill me now my throat hurts")," and "protective instincts EVERYWHERE". hopefully I'll finish it someday 😂

[deivorous]

thinking about grimm and religion this morning and honestly making myself a little sad.

[todayisafridaynight]

Hiiii it's me again the nanba hater!

Adding to a conversation that's been over for like a day.

I liked the combat in y3 not because it was good but it was the only game where i used the grabbing mechanics. I also shot everything with guns witch helped.

The dragon engine games where much much worse. Y6 was pretty bad but i played yk2 before it so i was kinda used to it.

Yk2 was pretty bad too, it's a bit less buggy than y6 but I remember gliding and flying around alot especially in that first fight with ryuji.

Yk2 feels worse because i played yk1 before it and yk1 is easily one of the best battle wise.

Like a dragon is easily the worst, it's way to time consuming and it makes me very dizzy.

All of the dragon engine games generally feel slow and like kiryu or the party don't respond quickly enough and when they do they have very long animations. Y3 also feelt very slow but I like it because it matches the shitty graphics and I'm biased toward old crunchy games.

Doing pretty well in like a dragon! I have everyone at tier 5 bond except Nanba and Eri. I only have less than a week to finish the game before i go on holiday for 3 weeks wish me luck 😭😭

'nanba hater' is such a funny title but i cant argue with the 'hater' part ☠️☠️☠️

i agree with the dragon engine games though: the physics are really funny, but at times they really dont feel right or feel too floaty. the ps3 era games do feel the most grounded next to the unreal engine games imo

best of luck at finishing the game on time !

[adammilligan]

something about how michael was built for war and he’s lived through and won endless battles and did win the war against lucifer so long ago but the first time we actually see him lose his composure on screen is when adam asks him, very gently, if he still cares about what god thinks of him after he left him in the cage. when he gets frustrated and even snaps at one point and adam is still so kind to him anyway. something about heaven’s most terrifying weapon being rendered speechless at one string of words spoken with nothing but gentle concern. not to drag a quote into this but quite literally sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined

[berryblu-soda]

re reading passerine and guided evolution to cope with the dsmp finale whos with me ✊ 😭

[eternally-tired-cryptid]

.....i need to get therapy again

[silentalltheseyearsnomore]

Something k said last night really has stuck in my mind.

We were brave and asked her if there is something on our side that could be causing this pattern. We asked her if how we tried to hold her accountable when she was our therapist was done okay, or if it comes across in a harmful way. Because at the time, she threw it back at us and called us abusive and our words harmful. We knew deep down we wrote it all with care, focusing on how her actions made us feel, and constantly saying we understand the cause of her behaviour and still love her anyway. But... it stuck in our head. And now there are patterns. So we asked. Knowing we should not necessarily trust her if she says we are abusive again.

She said we did nothing wrong at all. We never did. It was her, and people who can not take accountability will run away from us exceptionally fast. But that is not us doing something wrong, what we do is the right thing. She said we are incredibly good at holding people accountable, that we are too strong for most people, and they are not ready. They will run. They will not face their shit. She said there is also something about us that makes other people see and feel their own stuff- that when people connect to our energy, they also connect to their own, and that can be scary. We've had a lot of people say this before, and I love/hate it in equal parts. I love that we somehow make people wake up, and I hate that it means they often run away from us.

Then we asked more, to get a sense of how people (therapists mostly, or the few people who know more than just our functioning parts) perceive us... why does this pattern happen? Why are we getting so harmed? So many promises broken? What is our part in it?

First, she talked about how intense it can be, because of the size of our system, the level of trauma, she said "it's like 50 people coming at you at once.. and I don't mean coming at you like you were harmful, but just.. there's so much. I wasn't prepared, I don't think many specialists even are, and they get overwhelmed." She said again that is not our fault. This was disorientating to hear just because our default is always a level of denial. We are always so fucking confused when things like this happen, and to hear her explain it like this on the outside.. it's so confronting. What do you mean? Why would you be overwhelmed if it's not even real?

Secondly she talked about something that happens which she believes is to do with the RAMC. Where she would get sucked in to our denial and avoidance, confusion.. like in to another world, so no "real work" ever really happened. Other dramas between us would be created and she'd always feel like.. how is this happening? She said she almost felt programmed in response. Our longterm therapist before her said the exact same, so this... I mean, it was disorientating and validating and heartbreaking and frustrating all at once. Like it cleared some fog for us. But then just even more unfairness. Like. These are our therapists. They should have not got lost with us. Will anyone ever be able to help us heal? Are we too broken? Can we do therapy "right"?

But, this is what stuck with me most.. she said this is something she's been scared of sharing with me, knowing it would be triggering (for RAMC stuff)...

She talked about this intense dark energy we have all around us. She said nowadays, where she's trained more, more experience with DID, she can understand all the parts stuff, all the theories, all the work she does with other clients. But this dark energy, and how connected to it she is with us, she can not understand and it disturbs her and part of what played in to the shit in our relationship. She said how she dreams about it, still, in detail... and she doesn't understand. We talked around spirituality, and our connection, all the nice magical signs we used to talk about that we've had our whole life before we knew each other, like a sign we were meant to find each other and we both said perhaps her being so connected to our darkness is the other side of that inexplicable connection. She went in to more detail... at one point we went quiet and she was worried she triggered us mentioning religion. Or that we thought she could be part of the abuser group. Which is always gonna be a thing for some parts. Especially if she starts saying shit like religion and exorcism. But it wasn't that. We were just struggling to remember the dark energy isn't US. She reassured us it's not. She said we are the light, that is why we survived, that is why we keep surviving, that is why our heart is so good. We asked if everyone close to us will feel it? We know most people dont.. we get comments on the opposite, on how we have such a calming energy, people use the word "light" for us so often. But do the few who really know us, feel this? Do they see darkness when we walk in a room? She said she can't answer for everyone, but she imagines they may not see darkness, but many will feel overwhelm, and again how that is not our fault, simply the result of what we carry.

She said that she just wants to help get rid of this huge heavy darkness around us. That she's never seen with anyone ever.... ouch. It just feels personal. I know its not. I know it's put on us. But it feels heavy.

At the same time it was validating and uplifting.. to name it. We feel it. We've seen body workers who mention it. And lately this past week, we've intuitively needed to go to large open spaces and lay on the ground and ask the earth to just absorb some of the darkness. It is so fucking heavy. It is like drowning. Hearing her name it felt hurtful but also hopeful.. like.. it's named.. now we can tackle it. We even did a kind of visual somatic thing together and it was wildly wildly powerful. It always is when we do it together. Which aligns to what she says about how she is so connected to our stuff in some weird spiritual level way even when we arent in contact.. the dreams she has.. it's wild and creepy. So when we do these somatic things, she feels it in her body too and we release it together. Which, I know many practitioners do to an extent, they are tuning in to our feelings and can feel what we do in our body sometimes. But with her it's like another level, and we do some kind of magic at times.

I am cautious to listen to her. I know she has been so damaging. But I know myself and know what of hers to listen to and what not, these days. This felt aligned.

I want S. I need S. Child parts especially. I need us to repair. I need it to be okay. She is so much more healing, comforting, secure, consistent, stable.... or was. Until now. Everything in me needs us to work it out and be okay together again. But while we are not, we need something, someone, and K is what we have. I wish wish wish we didnt need anyone. I wish we could just heal ourselves.. I wish when this attachment pain screams we could soothe it completely alone... but I can't. Not yet. I've come so far. So far. And we do soothe each other. We work so hard. And we can handle little triggers, smaller attachment pain, even big attachment pain when there's more than one attachment person in our life. But when this happens? When it seems there is NO ONE? We can't. We just can not. It is too big to soothe alone. And right or wrong we still choose the very questionable attachment figure over none. For now. Carefully.

[misterbaritone]

God I hope that new DMC anime is good because that first one was such dogshit

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: YUTA (PT. II)

A/N: Special grade lover boy finally has you, his dream girl, in his hands. Surely he’ll be able to handle it…right?

S/N: This one is for the anon(s), the Yuuta girlies. I hope this means I get to rush Yuta Phi Alpha next year!! 🤭 (you can read part I here )

C/W: Yandere themes, aged up characters (21+), Mature, 18+

Any minute now.

You should be calling, any minute now.

Yuuta rolls his favorite pair of your underwear into a cylinder.

Even. Perfect.

He tucks it next to the 14 other perfectly even cylinders he’s taken from you.

An impressive collection, considering that it’s been only 3 months since he’s been back from Morocco.

3 months since you eviscerated the barrier between fantasy and reality.

You touched him. You kissed him. His building blocks came crashing down at your feet.

And yet, you still don’t see him.

It’s been torture.

Purgatory.

Falling back into the platonic, easy insteps of friendship. Breathy giggles. Air tight hugs. Feather light kisses.

On his cheek.

Friendly gestures as thin as the air on the summit of Mount Everest.

Leaving Yuuta the same way, every time.

Desperately tugging his cock.

Filling your stolen lingerie with his seed. Marking you. Branding you as his over and over again. In the confines of his quiet, sterile apartment.

Sullied by his lewd coping mechanisms. Babbling your praises day in and day out. The paintings on his walls know you by name.

Because you’re his.

Yuuta has chosen to love you every minute between sunrise and sunset and sunrise again. Ever since his cold met your warmth.

From afar. In the dark. Meticulously crafting the blueprint of your future together. Where you love him, freely. Openly. Without input from your friends or exes.

You need him.

Why else would he be the first person you call after every date?

Agonizing about whether you said the right thing. Or wore the right thing. Leaving a long list of people Yuuta has to take care of.

Not that he minds. He loves helping you.

Beautiful, silly girl.

Can’t you see?

He’s already created a gorgeous life for you two. He’ll give you the stars. The moon. A whole galaxy if you want it.

True, mutual love.

He just has to make you see it.

See him.

“There you are.” Your ringtone is his personal call bell.

Yuuta was starting to think you were going to use your girlfriend’s shoulder to cry on instead of him.

You were supposed to be out on a third date tonight. But you’re not. When it comes to picking up the pieces after your frivolous little flings — Yuuta is always your go to.

“Hey you.”

His palm caresses the heavy bulge in his pants. Tone is steady. Unassuming.

“Yuuta?” Soft sobs intertwine with his name, and it’s decadent.

“Hey. Hey.” Yuuta’s fingers impatiently tug down his zipper. Adams Apple sliding down the column of his neck, swallowing a moan.

You sound so pretty like this.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Can I…can I just come over?”

“Yes..of course you can.” Each word rolls off his tongue carefully. A stark contrast to the storm winds rattling his heart around its cage.

Broken, teary whines kiss his ears and glide down his spine. Yuuta pulls his cock free. Smearing pearly beads of pre cum around his swollen head. His body is so well trained for you. Primed to your voice. Your touch. Your gaze.

“You’re the best, Yuu.”

A satisfied grin blooms across Yuuta’s face. He uncurls his long fingers from around his base.

No more self indulgence. Not yet.

Tonight is about you.

“See you soon.”

—-

Is this wrong?

This is wrong.

…right?

Your fingers plait together. Shifting weight between your feet.

Staring at Yuuta’s door, knowing your dark-haired, sleepy-eyed friend is probably watching the clock. Anticipating your arrival.

Maybe you shouldn’t vent to him about other guys.

Maybe you shouldn’t use him to soothe your broken heart.

But he’s so soft with you.

Patient. With open ears, open arms. His capacity for you seems limitless.

Always peering at you with those deep set, graphite eyes. Opaque, winter fog. Quick to muddle your sense of direction if you look into them long enough.

Kind, but so, so unsettling.

Before you can reason yourself away from his apartment, Yuuta pulls open his front door.

“Hey pretty,” his mellow greeting is a warm weighted blanket around your shoulders.

“Hi Yuu,” your arms snake around his neck. Because it’s comfortable. He’s comfortable.

His toned arms sink into your lower back. As if your waist was tailored to the contour of his muscle. A low sigh breezes against your neck.

“Come in.”

Yuuta is hushed. He always is. Perpetually whispering secrets for your ears only.

You follow the gentle sorcerer into his apartment. Low lit. Shadows from the candle wicks dancing along his walls. Beckoning you into his lair.

“I made you some tea, is that okay?”

Yuuta’s lithe fingers fidget against his thighs. Almost 4 years of friendship and he still hasn’t shaken his nervous ticks around you.

Sweet boy.

“Yes please,” your smile is already less gloomy.

Yuuta mirrors you with a lopsided smile of his own. Small dimples dusting a boyish charm over his otherwise haunting features. He shuffles to the kitchen. And you take in his broad shoulders. Lean, muscular physique.

He really is handsome.

Eerily beautiful.

Effervescent porcelain skin, deepened from the Moroccan sun. Acute, angular jaw line. High cheekbones. Thick, raven hair that’s always a little storm-tossed.

A crescent moon against a clear night sky. Watching over souls trapped in their own personal graveyards.

There’s something about him that always seems…heavy.

Constantly balancing the weight of the world on his back.

Or something.

You settle in the couch just as Yuuta materializes into the living room. Stealthy, quiet footsteps. If he wasn’t the one who let you in you could be convinced that you’re alone in his apartment.

“Be careful, it’s still hot.” Yuuta warns. His eyes linger on your lips. Memorizing each pucker.

He’s so close.

Sweet steam kisses his face with each blow. And he sits there. Perfectly opposite of your mug.

Unphased. Unblinking. Still.

Close enough to take a sip of his own.

“Thank you for letting me come over on short notice, Yuu.”

Your thighs startle beneath his wintry touch. Both palms, larger than you remember, knead the fleshiest part of your hips.

“Don’t thank me. I’m here for you.” His tone descends. A deep drawl laced with conviction.

“I’ll always be here for you.” Yuuta repeats, pads of his fingers indent into your skin.

Your eyes metronome between his.

Slowly evanescing into his firm, glacial touch. Hazy from his half lidded gaze. There’s no time space continuum between you two.

“Yuuta—“

“Tell me what happened.” Shards of glass rain down his dry windpipe. Willing with every cell in his body to remain neutral.

The gates open.

You’re so animated. It’s captivating. How you feel so many things.

The way your eyes flutter while telling him about how you were stood up. A call came out of the blue. A short, unsatisfying cancellation of your dinner date.

And Yuuta leans in. Nodding. Petting your mouth-fucking-watering thighs. Forcing himself to remember to move his eyebrows. And blink. And look away from Aphrodite every so often.

He knows the story.

He wrote the story.

And for the record, gorgeous. Your crush sounds pathetic when he’s begging for mercy.

Weak.

A man like that is beneath you.

Yuuta’s jaw loses tone.

Pretty crystals line your eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen. Red like Merlot stains on a bottle cork. Your mini skirt rides up a quarter inch higher by the second. Mostly from his fingers. Every time you gesticulate he caresses just a bit higher.

White noise fills the space between Yuuta’s ears. He’s inebriated. Incapacitated by the honey that seeps from your mouth every time you speak.

And he can’t keep ignoring the way his cock is thrashing against its barrier. Begging. Pleading for reprieve.

The Apple in the Garden of Eden.

And the consequences of his inevitable bite mean nothing to him.

“Please,” Yuuta interrupts. Barely above a whisper.

Your eyebrows crawl together at the center of your barbie doll face. So oblivious. Blissfully unaware of how you fuck his brain to nothing but smooth, empty, mush.

“I’m sorry I’m rambling—“

“No. No.”

Yuuta’s body moves before his mind can catch up. He slides off the couch to his knees. Nudging his hips between your legs. His muscular arms hook beneath your legs at lightening speed.

You have no time to gather words when he pulls you to the edge of the couch.

“Yuuta?” Delicate hands fly to his shoulders. Steadying yourself in this new, sudden position.

You’re heady. Shocked. Glassy eyed. Fully flushed from your button nose to ears.

You have no idea how addicting you are. Working sticky heat out of Yuuta’s needy length without even touching him.

He presses his lips into your inner thigh. Instinctively gripping your hips forward when you reflexively jump back.

“So perfect,” Goosebumps cascade along where his moist mouth traces.

“Y-yuuta, we...we’re friends.”

Yuuta drags his drunken gaze to meet yours. Resting his head in your lap. Feathering his icy hands up your butter soft skin.

“You’re so pretty.” He murmurs. Purposefully evading your observations.

He has some observations of his own.

Yuuta doesn’t miss the way his praise affects you. How your breath hitches. And your nails dig into his shoulders. Pupils blown to a full moon.

And the slow growing damp spot at the apex of your pink cotton panties. Yuuta can’t bring himself to stare at your precious rose. Not yet. He’ll cum in his pants if he looks now.

His slender nose traces up your quivering leg. And you bloom. Thighs drifting further apart. Making space for him. Inviting him in. Rewarding him.

“I can make you feel better.”

You gift him a pitiful little whine in response. Timid fingers travel into his nape. Yuuta’s heavy eyelids curtain his vision.

The room is spinning.

And Yuuta is kneeling at the only alter he will worship at. The only alter that will ever receive his devotion.

Those years of waiting. Wanting. Watching. Unsent love letters. Saved texts. Practiced conversations in the mirror. Stolen trinkets. Pieces of you he’s kept along the way.

It was all worth it.

Because the love of his life is spread open for him. Vulnerable. Needy. Melting beneath his touch like your body knows it belongs to him.

Yuuta couldn’t hold back if he wanted to.

“D..do you know how perfect you are?” Yuuta asks the warm, sore flesh beneath his lips. Admiring the trail of bruises he’s left up your inner thigh.

“Yuu, you don’t mean that.” You mewl and squirm like a brand new kitten. Mousing his hair between your fingers.

“I mean it. Y..you’re so…” his voice trails off when his trembling, pale digits finally press into your wet heat.

“S-soft. You’re so soft.” Drool pooling in his mouth chips away at his coherence.

Yuuta’s stormy eyes find the meeting point of his hand and your sex. The sight alone bucks his diamond hard shaft off of his leg. The friction from his damp boxers and rigid jean blurs his vision.

“Oh pretty girl.”

“Mmghhhh Y-Yuu..ah god.”

Both of your husky musings collide. Yuuta drives his long two fingers into your accepting, driveling opening.

He immediately curls up into your pleasure point. Eliciting the most dreamy, listless curve to your back. Tossing your head into the pillows behind you. Gripping his roots into your hand.

“Y-yuu, I need…please.”

Whimpers wrap around Yuuta’s cock and jerks him out of his fucked out state.

He didn’t realize he was open-mouth staring at how your cunt squeezes and tugs on his fingers. Leaking your dew onto your thighs. His fingers. His couch. Saliva streams down the corner of his mouth like he’s a starved animal.

He blinks up at you. Debauched. Lusty. Filthy in the way your hips are undulating against him. Taking your pleasure right out of his hands.

“I need…I need to hear you say it baby.”

Yuuta swipes his tongue against your clothed pussy. And you nearly buck off the couch.

“Please, y-yuu,” diamonds line your eyes again. So much pleasure in the pain of being teased.

“Say it, baby.” His breath kisses your swollen clit. “T-tell me what you need.”

“Lick..please, suck…Yuu,” He’s never heard a more beautiful plea. And his restraint was already teetering on a hair string.

Yuuta’s other free hand rips your panties away from your dewy folds. And his spine is set on fire.

The dull ache in his pelvis crashes into him like he’s at the deadly meeting point of the Atlantic, Pacific and Southern oceans.

“So..so pre..god.” Nonsensical words. Unintelligible noises.

Then his tongue circles your bud and he is gifted a taste of your elixir.

Somewhere between his pathetic sobs into your pussy, your gorgeous melody filling the room and how you grind your pretty petals along the length of his tongue — Yuuta isn’t sure he’ll be able to survive this.

At some point he pulled his cock free from its restraint. Spearing high and heavy in the air. Constant needy dribbles of pre cum staining his shirt, rolling down the length of his shaft. One or two drops even escaping to the floor between his knees.

He hasn’t stroked his length once. And he is this close to release.

And it is infuriating.

Yuuta hates how closely he is riding his peak right now.

Because he is not nearly done with you yet.

He wants you on his tongue. On his cock. For hours. He needs to coax orgasm after orgasm out of his one true love.

“Y-yuuta,” your right hand pulls at his head with all your strength. Yuuta has to bite back a whine.

His murky gaze meets your darkened one.

“Inside.” A clear, high-pitched command.

And Yuuta couldn’t dream of denying you. Of saying no to you, ever.

“O-okay, yes baby.”

He stumbles to his feet. Shakily working his jeans and boxers into a pile around his feet.

Your wide eyes and oh shaped mouth stains his face cherry red.

Why are you looking at him like that?

Is he not enough?

Were your other lovers bigger?

He’ll get rid of them if—

“Yuuta…will it fit?”

You shatter his spiral to stardust. He can breathe again for the first time since you came over.

Yuuta eagerly chases you up the length of the couch. Until he’s nestled comfortably in your legs. Your heat kissing along his drenched rod. Mixing your arousal with his.

“It’ll fit, because you’re made for me”

Yuuta rasps through tight lips. Burying his head into the gentle slope of your neck.

How is everything going exactly right and completely wrong at the same time?

He is more disciplined than this.

He is supposed to be in control.

But your warm, sweet petals sheath his length.

And you begin to circle your hips underneath him. Rubbing your nectar along his cock like you are marking him as yours.

Yuuta loses his sense of reality.

Unrelenting waves of heat ram into his groin. His cock stutters and beats against your precious cunt. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. Because everything dampens.

“No…n—no no wait!”

Yuuta smears protests into your neck. Hips rutting against your opening. Pressing you deep within the cushions. Rabid, uncontrolled movements. Ascending in pace faster than you can keep up.

“Fuck, fuck..”

“Yuuta? Are you cu—“

You have your answer the moment his hips hover over yours. Cupping his thick, blushing tip.

He fails to contain his explosion. Yuuta is mortified when stark white globs contrast your black mini skirt.

Air settles thick between you.

Circulating breaths between his clipped and your shocked ones. Decades pass between you before silence is broken.

“Don’t worry, Yuu! This doesn’t change anything.” Your smile is light and playful. Kind in the way that makes him fall in love with you again.

But…what do you mean?

Of course this changes everything.

He can please you.

He knows that.

This was just…

This was just one time.

The first time.

Amidst the cyclone of thoughts decimating Yuuta's brain, you’ve managed to wiggle around him. Currently lacing up your strappy heels.

Yuuta’s mouth lolls open but words fail to materialize.

Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you prance over to his side. Still frozen on the couch with a handful of his cum. In the messy remnants of his unwanted peak.

Your lips meet his cheek. And your next words run his blood subzero.

“We’re still friends! We’ll always be friends, Yuu.”

Yuuta’s steely eyes laser into your retreating figure with sniper precision.

Beautiful, silly girl.

You two will never be just friends.

[cobrakaisb]

always an angel, never a god

summary: the aftermath of luke’s failed quest to the garden of the hesperides includes a dirty motel, a new wound, and sharing a bed with his best friend. 

word count: 2.8k

featuring: ONE BED TROPE, set pre-tlt, luke and reader both have crushes on each other, lowkey hurt-comfort, mentions of injuries/getting injured, death, angst with a tiny bit of fluff

“let’s just stop here for the night, then we can keep moving,” you begged, standing in the motel parking lot. luke was weary, eyeing the property distrustfully. “it doesn’t look safe,” he mumbled, hand fisting the strap of his worn blue backpack so tightly that his knuckles were white. “please,” you whispered, eyes shining with tears. it had been a rough couple of days, especially with the major losses you’d both suffered. 

“just until tomorrow morning,” you begged. he sighed, but nodded his head. you exhaled a breath of relief, as your forehead came to rest on his shoulder. he stiffened, but relaxed under your soft touch. your lips ghosted against his shoulder, as you planted a soft, barely-there kiss on the faded green cloth. luke’s fingers gently brushed against the back of your hand, wrapping around your wrist. you lift your head from his shoulder, lacing your fingers together, and lead him towards the motel lobby. 

it’s clearly rundown; the carpet floors are dirty and the room reeks of mildew and sweat, but neither of you complain. you're just happy to have access to a bed and a shower. luke walks up to the check in desk, ringing the small bell to alert the employee(s) that someone was here. a few minutes pass by, but then an older man comes out from the back room. he looks hesitantly between the two before asking, “can i help you folks?”

“we’d like a room please. just for tonight,” you explain, squeezing luke’s hand a little tighter as the man continues to stare you two down. you can’t imagine what you look like to him: bruised, battered, bleeding, and crying. not to mention luke’s face; the wound was still open and dripping blood every few seconds. you’d done what you could on the road to help stop the bleeding, but the only real way to heal it was going to be with stitches and deep disinfectant.      

“just your luck, we have one room left,” he smiles, inputting something in the system before handing you a key. you smile tightly at him, feeling the tension in luke’s shoulders seeping into your bones. why would there only be one room left if the parking lot was empty? “thanks so much,” you replied, leading luke out of the lobby and towards your room on the second floor. 

“i really don’t like it here,” he grumbled, setting his bag down on the floor once you entered the room. you toed off your worn out black converse, locking the door behind you as you rolled your eyes. “it’s just one night. besides we need to rest and regroup now that…” you started to say, but ended up pausing. it hurts to mention her; the wound in your heart is still fresh. you swallow, taking a deep breath before turning to luke, “let’s take care of your face.” 

he nods, wordlessly following you into the bathroom. he watches as you grab the first aid kit from the backpack and turn on the hot water. he waits patiently, occasionally admiring you, while you wet one of the few provided face clothes. “this might sting,” you whispered as you began to clean away at the blood and grime caked onto his cheek. he winces, gripping onto you for support. 

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i’m almost done,” you said, trying to soothe him. instead of watching your motions, he looks at your face. your eyes, ones which normally shone bright with joy, were dull; the vibrant colors muted by your sadness. he wondered if you felt pity for him and his failure, or if you were still coping. this quest wasn’t meant to be a three person one, but you refused to let him partake in the challenge alone. he couldn't help but blame his dad for your sorrows; everything always came back to the gods.

“can you sit down on the toilet for me? i want to clean the cut, and i need a better vantage point,” you explained, putting the towel on the side of the sink as you opened the first aid kit. he complied to your orders, taking a seat on the closed toilet. he waited with bated breath, as you dug around in the kit, looking for whatever it was you needed. finally, you made eye contact with him, a small smile on your face as you held up a cotton ball and bottle of peroxide. 

luke groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “no, absolutely not,” he mumbled, moving his head away from you. he froze, however, when your palm rested against his uninjured cheek. “please luke, i don’t want it to get infected,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with emotion. his brown eyes meet yours; they’re swimming with worry. “okay,” he relaxes, rolling his shoulders back to release some of the tension in them. you smile softly, trying your best to be reassuring as you remove your hand from his cheek to pour a small amount of peroxide onto the cotton. 

“this is going to sting,” you warned. luke takes a deep breath, and subtly nods for you to continue. as gently as possible, you begin to clean the deep wound running from his eye to his jaw. luke hisses, his right hand gripping onto your thigh. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you mumbled, but you continued your ministrations. luke doesn’t answer, simply gritting his teeth and keeping a hold on your thigh. after a few more swipes, you pause to inspect the wound. your hand grips his jaw, and you turn his face to the right; satisfied with your work, you throw the used items in the small garbage.

he watches as your attention focuses back on the first aid kit. you’re digging through the small red box, searching for the required items to stitch up his face. despite his dire situation, the crushing weight of worthlessness and embarrassment, and his most likely infected wound, he couldn’t help but feel serene. being here with you was exactly what he needed; you were all that he needed. 

“okay so i have the needle and thread. do you want to shower first? otherwise you won’t be able to,” you explained, moving back to stand between his legs. luke’s hands came to rest on the small of your back, fingers creeping under the hem of your tee shirt. “i’ll shower, then you can stitch me up,” he agreed, humming softly as you absentmindedly twirled one of his black curls around your finger. “perfect. i’ll be right outside,” you whispered, trying to step out of his hold, but his arms just tightened around you. 

“stay,” he pleaded, brown eyes widening. you sighed, a conflicted look in your eyes. “i can’t lose you,” he whispered. “i won’t lose you,” he continued, resting his head against your abdomen. you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. everything was getting to be too much, on the both of you. “i’m not going anywhere angel, i promise,” you replied, fingers carding through his hair in a feeble attempt to soothe him. he lets out a shaky breath in response, and you can feel his tears seeping through your tee shirt. 

“it’s okay. i’m right here,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice from cracking. your fingers still card through his hair as you lean down and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. this whole quest has been a pot of emotions, and it seems like it’s finally boiled over the edge, for both you and luke. you want to let your guard down, and crumple to the floor and sob, but you don’t. luke needs you right now. 

a few minutes pass by, but he calms down. he sits up straight, arms still holding you in a vice grip. “i’m sorry,” he mumbled, and you aren’t sure what he’s apologizing for. “there’s nothing to apologize for. i’m here to support you, whatever that looks like,” you explained, cupping his jaw with a small reassuring smile on your face. “will you just sit outside the door? i need to know you’re there,” he said, reverting back to the original conversation. “whatever you want,” you answered. once the words leave your mouth, his arms unravel from your waist. you step back, giving him room to stand. he pulls you right into his chest. “we’ll talk later,” he promised, waiting for your hum of agreement to let go.

“shower. you reek,” you teased, trying to bring some joy back into the depressing atmosphere. he finally cracks a smile as he pretends to smell his underarms. “a shower is a good call,” he agreed, lightly pushing you towards the door, a sign that he wants to get changed. you obliged, leaving the room just as the sound of gushing water arises. 

luke takes his time in the shower, letting the water drip down his clean body. he knows you’re sitting right outside the door, just like you promised, because he could hear your soft humming and mutterings. he was angry, and he refused to let that anger out on you. instead, it stews inside of him; all the resentment, annoyance, and disappointment. he was supposed to come back a hero, they all were. instead, he’s returning a failure, and with one less friend. he thinks about his father, who recycled a quest from the history lessons at camp and refused to help. he thinks of you, his pillar of strength. he thinks of beth, hoping that she reached elysium, where she belonged. his mind wanders back to camp half-blood, and the faces of his siblings and all the unclaimed children fill him with dread. what will they think, now that they’re head counselor failed?

“are you almost done?” you asked, pulling him from the depths of his mind. he shakes his head gently, water spraying from his soaked curls. “just finishing up,” he answered, turning the water off. “i put your pajamas on the sink,” you replied, closing the door so he has some semblance of privacy. “thanks,” he answered, and the sound of the opening curtain muffled your reply. he takes a couple extra minutes to dry off and pull on his pants, purposefully leaving the shirt to the side. 

“okay i’m decent,” he shouted, and the door cracked open. he sees you standing there with your eyes closed, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “i told you i was decent!” he laughed, and you opened your eyes with a giggle. “i just had to make sure,” you replied, your usual smile encompassing your cheeks. he playfully shakes his head at your words. “whatever you say,” he said, and reclaimed his seat on the toilet lid. 

you took your spot between his legs, and his hands found their home on your waist. “this might hurt, and take a while because i have to go slow, but it’ll help you heal,” you said, holding up the needle with a shaky hand. luke grabbed your wrist, steadying the shaking. “hey, it’s gonna be fine. i trust you,” he mumbled, placing a soothing kiss on your palm. “i know, but i hate seeing you hurt,” you answered, taking a deep breath. finally, once you’ve calmed down, you begin stitching up the wound. luke remained still through the entire process, but you could see the pain in his eyes. in a matter of minutes, and with the quick snip of the scissors, you tied off the stitches. 

“done,” you announced, tapping on his forearm. luke thanks you, and gets you from his spot, admiring his reflection in the mirror. “handsome as ever,” you whispered, heat creeping up your cheeks when you realize he heard you. he blushes at your words, but still manages to throw a cocky smirk your way. he doesn’t comment on your words, instead he pushes you towards the shower. “get cleaned up so we can sleep,” he mumbled, closing the door on his way out. you’re frozen, forgetting how to function, but once you regroup, you take the time to shower. 

it’s longer than usual, but you deserved it after everything this quest has put you through. while you’re standing under the showerhead, letting the water wash over you in waves, you can’t help but blame yourself. everything that went wrong could be pinpointed back to you. you and beth were supposed to take care of the dragon, but you were distracted by your worry, turning to check on luke. in that split second, everything went downhill from there. you should have just remained focused, followed the plan, and none of this would have happened.

“i think you should get out of the shower now, before the motel sends us their water bill,” luke whispered, opening the door to the bathroom. you clear your throat, blinking harshly. were your cheeks wet from the water or tears? “i’ll be out in a minute,” you promised, and luke agreed. once the door closed, and you were back in the privacy of the bathroom, you stepped out of your sanctuary. it’s when you dried yourself off that you realize you forgot to grab your sleepwear, but thankfully luke had you covered. sitting on the bathroom counter were a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, along with your hairbrush. you felt yourself smiling gratefully at the gesture, and started your nightly routine. 

he heard the sound of the door opening before he saw you. you were wearing the clothes he’d laid out, and your hair was dripping wet, despite your efforts to dry it. you threw the towel on the floor, letting it sit in a sopping wet heap, before climbing into the bed. he didn’t think you’d comment on the fact that the motel manager seemed to be playing matchmaker, and he was right. you lied down silently, pulling the covers up to your chest as you turned to face him. 

“it’s all my fault,” you whispered, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. luke’s eyebrows furrowed, and a confused look took over his previously serene face. “what?” he replied, uncertainly. “everything with beth, your scar, the quest. it’s all my fault,” you continued. he was baffled by the fact that you genuinely believed that. something of this caliber, of his undoing, was not your fault. “why would you think that?” he asked, genuine curiosity present in his tone. “i was supposed to distract the dragon, we both were, but i was nervous. i looked away for just a second, and the dragon maimed beth. then came for you,” you answered, voice cracking and shaking. luke’s hand cupped your cheek, wiping away at the lone tear before it could drip down the bridged of your nose. 

“beth died a hero, she knew what she was signing up for,” he whispered, thumb rubbing over the apple of your cheek. he wanted to reassure you that none of it was your fault, that nobody would blame you for what happened, that he didn’t blame you. “the blame doesn’t fall on you,” luke continued, staring softly into your eyes. “never,” he finished, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“but she’s gone. and your quest…” you trailed off, more tears brimming at your water line. “my quest was stupid anyway,” he replied, pulling you closer to him. “it was never serious. not to him,” and luke didn’t need to specify who the him was. “but it was important to you,” you said, finally meeting his brown eyes, “so it was important to me.” luke sighed at your words, his eyelashes fanning his cheekbones. “you’re the most important thing to me angel. i’ve stopped craving his approval long before this,” luke explained. 

he wished that he kept his closed so that he didn’t have to see the shocked look on your face. or the pity flashing behind your eyes. he knew, deep-down, that you didn’t pity him, you just felt bad for everything he’s faced. you felt guilty for the relationship with your parent, when he had none.

“he loves you luke, you must know that. maybe not as much as i do, but there has to be some compassion there,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled your foreheads together. “nobody can love me as much as you do,” luke whispered, lips ghosting over your skin from the proximity. “of course not, angel,” you answered, closing your eyes. he knew the stress of the quest and day was taking over you, so he let you fall into the arms of hypnos. 

when you were really asleep, he whispered the words he’d been dying to say: “i love you.” 

the way i am not strong enough to be your man // always an angel, never a god

[kissitbttr]

“my baby” you murmur softly against his skin. hands cradling both side of his face gently. “my sweet, sweet baby”

toji hates to admit how that makes his heart tremble with pure love, and how the simple act is the sole reason for the crimson color risen within his cheeks,

“that, i am” he mutters with a small smile playing on his lips, tugging you close by the waist. “you love me?”

a small gasp escapes your lips, as if you’re offended by that question. “i can’t believe you have to ask! of course i do” another kiss presses against his temple and down to his cheek bone,

he suppresses a cute giggle from it, not wanting to be embarrassed if you ever caught him letting out such sound. it’s quite fascinating how you are the only person who has a way to make him feeling flustered. as if you’re looking at a teenage boy who finally scored a date with his first high school crush,

“just making sure” toji finds comfort against your naked chest, feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toy with his raven haired. he frowns and lets out a boyish groan when you pull away,

“noo, noo” he whines, taking your hand before plopping it back down on top of his hair. “don’t stop. keep playing it”

a confused yet amused frown make its way towards your face, a small giggle heaves out of your mouth,

“look at you. my big boy” the nickname just sends shivers down his spine, causing his grip around your waist to tighten. he loves it when you call him that. “touchy today aren’t you?”

he responds with a hum, letting his eyes close for a while as you continue to play with his loose strands of hair. he’s so comfortable like this. being with you is his favorite place. no large house nor king sized bed could ever compare if there’s no you in it.

he’s dreamed of this for far too long. when his wife was taken away from him years ago, he didn’t think that he could find a solace in someone else’s arm anymore. he had given up on love and pour his frustrations out in a very toxic way. drowning himself in alcohol and getting into fights was his way of coping.

then you came a long,

with your pretty smile, pretty aura, pretty hair, pretty voice… pretty everything. knocked the wind out of the man, he couldn’t even form the right words when you stood in front of him.

‘s-shit—wh-what were you saying?’ he laughed nervously when he realized he was staring at you for far too long,

it was an adorable sight. you really did have some sort of power to make men weak in their knees

his heart bloomed when he heard you giggle, ‘i said… did you come here with someone?’

‘oh! n-no! not at all’ he scratched the back of his neck while looking down on his drink, ‘all alone’

‘oh—well then’ you took a seat beside him at the bar, his eyes didn’t move an inch from you. ‘guess we can be alone together’

“my sweet big boy—wouldn’t even dreamed about leaving you”

and that’s enough to make him feel at ease. to let go of the fears he had been holding back. to let go of the past that had corrupted him in more ways than one. to finally say goodbye to his long gone wife and say thank you to you instead for being here. for being so patient. for being so stubborn despite the times he had pushed you away. for not backing down because he knew how much he needed you, he just didn’t have the guts to tell you.

what’s that saying about the song you had shown him? if life is a movie, then you’re the best part?

yeah. that’s the one. but he knows deep down that you’re better than a movie.

because after all these years, toji fushiguro had finally found you peace,

and may lord helps anyone to those who will try to take you away from him,

maybe toji will remove fushiguro from his last name and take yours instead in the near future