#I want to do everything I can to sleep decently on my own

[fitgothgirl]

So tired of insomnia 😩 (pun intended…)

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, don’t read them if you’re having a bad day, they’ll probably not help in the slightest.

[thateclecticbitch]

Request to move into basement failed. Sad.

[blunderpuff]

my mom hates the house, hates the neighborhood (can't walk to anything/have to get in the car for everything), can't find stuff she packed, doesn't have good places to put her stuff, her big desk doesn't fit in the "office alcove", the cat is days away from being put down and so he's clingy and sad...

MA'AM. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WAS DESPERATE TO MOVE. BUYING THIS HOUSE HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS SINCE JULY OF THIS YEAR. "MOVING" AS A CONCEPT HAS BEEN THE SUBTITLE OF MY LIFE FOR THE PAST 5 YEARS. YOU DO NOT GET TO BE A PISSY TODDLER NOW. THIS IS LITERALLY ALL YOUR DOING.

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

—���—/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[yourstrulyrika]

soft sex with leon kennedy ♡

ahhh i love this man. comfort character fr.

anyway no warnings. fem!reader and lots of love praise and aftercare :3 smut below the cut! probably the longest fic i ever wrote so pls tell me if it’s actually decent. i’m not used to writing long fics

a reminder rqs are open btw :3

Leon struggles with telling you how much he loves you. He’s always been a man of few words since you knew him. does that mean he doesn’t love you? no way in hell. he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

It’s visible with the way he’s so gentle with you. When holding you, when talking to you, sleeping with you, making love with you.

Because Leon doesn’t fuck; he’s making love.

he’s so gentle, putting you on a pedestal, treating you like a queen you are. his eyes are on you as he kneels down in front of you, hands already on thighs and gently squeezing them. you swear you can see little hearts in his eyes with how in love he is with you.

“That’s it baby, so good for me. Always so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.” and he’s saying this so lovingly as he takes his time with you. first, he places loving kisses all over your thighs, mumbling how much he loves you after each kiss. he finally tugs off your panties and lifts your thighs up, letting out a soft moan at the sight in front of him.

“Good girl. Love you so much, princess, can’t believe you’re mine.” with those words, he places your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in your puffy cunt. he loves it there, loves when you close your thighs around his head. he presses light kisses on your clit, going down to finally dive in and eat you out like a starved man he is. truth be told, when he’s between your legs, he always loses himself, always in his own world with how good it feels for him. always praising you, even when it’s barely audible.

“Mm, fuck, you’re just perfect aren’t you? Sweet girl. Just sit there and let me take care of you.” he loves your taste. always spends so much time on your pussy, making you come at least two times before he even thinks of himself.

when you start trembling, he knows you’re close. he speeds up his movements, clumsily reaching out to hold your hand as his hand rests on your thigh. and then you cum — and he feels like heaven’s greeting him right now. you’re squirming, because you’re sensitive and yet he never stops eating you out; quite the opposite. he makes it a challenge to make you cum faster than the orgasm before the next one. with how sensitive you are it’s not hard — he starts fingering you, gently curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot that makes you spread and lift your legs higher.

“Could spend forever between your legs, love. Fuck, you taste too good for your own good. How can I not grow drunk on you?” all he thinks about in this moment is you, you, you — your face, your pussy, your hand tugging on his hair. he loves when you do that, loves when you use him for your pleasure.

“That’s it, angel. Jus’ use me all you want, ‘m all yours, my cock is yours, everything I own is yours. ‘m here to please you, baby, please,” he actually starts to get whiny at his own words — cock so hard it’s throbbing against his stomach but he just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again. he has to see you cum again — it’s like a blessing to him.

when you finally cum, he has this big, proud grin on his face, eyes hazy but full of love for you. you can notice just how hard he is — and yet he doesn’t care until you ask him to slide in. of course he’ll oblige, anything for his princess.

he reaches out to take your hand in his again, guiding his cock inside with the other. both of you moan at the same time, you because you feel him snug so well inside, him because he feels your gummy, warm walls already wrapping around him like a blanket. he feels like he’s about to cum right there and now, but he holds back, wanting to make you cum again.

“Fuck, you’re made for me. You’re so perfect, I love you so much. You feel so damn good.”

Leon’s not rushing it. his pace is actually pretty balanced, not wanting to overwhelm you. he peppers your neck with gentle love bites and hickeys, all the way to your chest where he sucks your nipples like his life depended on it. fondles your breast with one hand, sucking on the other one while still holding your hand. he’s searching for that spot you love so well — and when he finds it, he’s so proud of himself.

“Right there baby? Yeah? Good girl, taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” he’s adjusting his position, arching his hips to just hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly until he feels you squirming.

he loves being drunk on you, he loves drowning himself in you, your embrace, your scent. he loves everything about you. the way you scratch his back, dig your fingers in when you’re close — he moans so loudly at that you’re almost surprised if it wasn’t for him thrusting in you so well. you two are so close, but he cums right after you do — he wouldn’t dare cum before you.

he stays inside you for a moment, just staring into you lovingly. he presses a sweet kiss to your head, before slowly pulling out and picking you up.

“Cmon, babygirl. Did so well for me, time to take care of you.”

he carries you to the bathroom, cleans you up, makes sure you’re hydrated, well fed and clean before actually tucking you in bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest so you feel his heartbeat as you come down from your high.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {6}

Summary: After a confusing first night together it is time for the first public appearance with Charles. Warnings: angst, little bit of fluff WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

An awkward silence filled the large space when you cut the engine inside the old factory and let the roller door close behind you. Charles rather elegantly dismounted and let you lock the motorbike up without a word. You had tried not to look at him too much after leaving the club but it was impossible to avoid now that there was nowhere to escape. 

“I’m going to shower,” you muttered. Charles sat at the edge of the bed and watched you walk to the only internal door. The old plumbing creaked as you turned the hot water onto full blast because it never reached any decent temperature above warm. You couldn’t suppress the hiss of pain when the water hit your body, each droplet like shrapnel on your skin.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked through the door.

“Never been better, Charles.”

You stared at a spiderweb that had appeared since your last visit until the water all too soon ran cold. A fluffy towel swamped your body and you relished the softness on your bruises, grateful you had stolen it from your bathroom. When you stepped out of the bathroom you found Charles still sat on the bed but now there were two beers condensating on the wobbly side table.

“Help yourself then,” you murmured as you grabbed a fresh pair of clothes from your backpack. “Look and I will throttle you.”

Charles turned his back as you dropped the towel and pulled your panties up your legs. Bending over sent white hot pain flashing through your ribs and tears burned your eyes when you tried to reach behind your back for the bra strap. Without the adrenaline of the fight everything felt ten times worse.

You jumped when cold fingertips brushed your spine and swiped your hands aside. “Let me.”

“Rumour has it you only know how to take these off,” you said as he clipped your bra into place. 

Charles turned you to face him and his eyes drifted down your body, lingering on the bruise blossoming on your ribs. “Since when have you cared about rumours?”

“I don’t, but your reputation precedes you. And, just so you know, I don’t have any friends for you to move on with after this ruse is up.”

“I don’t believe that,” he chuckled. “I think Alicia is your friend.”

“Alicia is too nice for her own good but she’s still on the payroll. I don’t think it’s friendship when it’s paid for.” You frowned as your stomach dropped as you realised what he had said and took a step back. “Plus, she is happily married so you’re out of luck there.”

Charles took a step to follow and caught your hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

You scoffed. “No?”

“No. You’re not as alone as you think you are. You have people who look out for you, and that’s friendship whether you believe it or not.” You tried not to let the words penetrate the internal walls you had built but they crumbled a little when he carefully embraced you. “You also don’t need to keep fighting, you have control of your future now.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you admitted as you looked up under your lashes to meet his eyes.

“Then let me show you.” His palm cradled your cheek and his thumb caressed your jaw as you waited to see what he would do. “You can say no whenever you want. The choice is yours.” His eyes traced the shape of your lips before returning higher and his lips parted as he started to dip his head. “You are in control.”

It could have been the sleep deprivation, the crash of hormones after the fight, or the fact that he was as good looking as any of the models you had seen. But, whatever the reason for your weak resolve, you didn’t say no.

You didn’t say no when his lips brushed softly over yours, tentatively. You didn’t say no when he grew bolder and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the curve of your lips. 

“Stop,” you gasped when his hands began to glide down your body. They immediately froze and he pulled back with a deep breath. “I can’t tell if you are fucking with my head, Charles. You make me question everything I know about you.”

“I can only say ‘I’m sorry’ so many ways.”

“So you thought you would try fuck your apology onto me?”

“No,” he laughed. “That was purely self indulgent. Even when I couldn’t stand it I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“I told you, you’re in control,” he said with a nod. 

You returned the nod and jutted your chin to the bed. “I’m a cuddler, don’t read too much into it when you wake up with me invading your personal space. Or, you can take the couch.”

He looked at the ratty couch and shook his head before a grin grew. “I like spooning.”

You pointedly looked at sweatpants and lifted a brow. “Little spoon, I bet.”

Charles smirked and dropped down on the bed, making himself comfortable on your pillow. “Nothing little about it, babe.”

You scrunched up your nose and reached under the pillow for the Prema shirt you slept in but before you could pull it on it was ripped out of your hands. “Hey!”

“You are not going to sleep next to me in my brother’s shirt.”

“There’s not exactly a wardrobe full of options here,” you said as you tried to grab it back.

Charles caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth movement before tossing it on your shoulder. “There you go.”

“I like that one.”

Charles gripped the fabric and tore the shirt in half as your eyes narrowed. “If we are going to fake this, we are doing it right. My girlfriend won’t be sleeping in another man’s shirt.”

“Fuck you, Leclerc,” you swore. It was better to be swathed in his clothing than half naked in your own, that was the only reason you pulled it on and breathed through your mouth so you didn’t have to inhale the rich cologne that clung to the soft fabric. You couldn’t be blamed for your actions if your hormones liked the smell too much because one thing was certain: when he lay there shirtless you had no control over your filthy thoughts.

You turned out the light and threw yourself down onto the bed with a pained groan that had nothing to do with your ribs. It was difficult but you managed to turn away from the man whose eyes drank in the sight of his shirt on you. 

“Arthur said I wouldn’t recognise you in the ring,” he confessed in the darkness, “but I think that’s the first time I’ve really seen you.”

You didn’t know how to respond when your heart started to beat like a jack rabbit so you settled for a sedate, “Goodnight, Charles.”

The pallets groaned with his shifting as he rolled over and his arm curved low on your waist, missing your ribs. A soft kiss found a place on your heated cheek and he whispered his own, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“You’re distracting me,” you muttered as you saw the shadow moving again. “Stop fiddling.”

Charles walked into the reflective field of the mirror after showering and he struggled to get the cufflinks into his Valentino suit. He walked around the table you were fixing your makeup at and held his arm out. “Can you please help?”

You fixed the shiny white gold pins into place before completing the finishing touches that completely concealed the bruises on your cheeks. The arnica had done its best to bring down the swelling but if anyone questions your puffy eyes you would just claim a rough night's sleep. 

“Can you zip me up?” you asked as you stepped out of the robe and into the gown chosen for the event. Charles knuckles traced your spine as he dragged the zip carefully up while you held your hair out of the way and the delicate touch sent goosebumps chasing in its wake. 

The Cannes Film Festival would be the first official outing with Charles and would publicise the relationship just in time for his home race. After the photos were snapped on the red carpet there would be no more privacy and every interaction would be watched by his eager fans. You knew what to expect - hate and hypercritical analysis were nothing new - but now they would come from run of the mill 20 year old females instead of millionaire middle-aged men.

A knock at the door interrupted the staring contest you found yourself in with Charles in the mirror and you stepped away to slip your heels on.

“The car is waiting downstairs,” Veronica said as she waltzed into your room. 

“Then it can keep waiting,” you replied while you chose an understanded clutch that wouldn’t distract from the dress. “I need two front row tickets to the opera next Saturday.” 

“But you have a-”

You held a hand up to interrupt her. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, just get me the tickets.”

Charles watched silently from the door, his phone and wallet in hand, and stepped aside to dodge the surly assistant that breezed from the room as quickly as she entered.

“We are attending the Palace dinner with Prince Albert next Saturday,” he said after Veronica had disappeared down the stairs. 

It wouldn’t be a Monaco Grand Prix without a Palace dinner and you had agreed to be Charles’ plus one. “I know.”

“Then why-”

“I don’t have to explain my every move to you, okay?”

His lips pressed closed in a tight line and he nodded sullenly.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, feeling like crap for snapping at him. “I’m not used to having someone to explain my actions to.”

“I get it,” he said, but you got the feeling he really didn’t. He could talk to his family about what was happening in his life and they would listen, you didn’t have that luxury.

“We should go.”

The plush carpet absorbed your heel with each step and you held Charles’ arm a little tighter. Your father had been kind enough to remind you not to make an embarrassment of yourself and you really wished you had been able to take a separate vehicle. After escaping the last event with Charles they had made sure to keep you closer and stop that from happening again.

“Family photo,” your father said with a tight smile. “You too, Charles.”

“Yes, sir.” Charles stepped back into the frame and curled his arm around your waist, his palm warming your hip through your dress.

“Who are you wearing this evening?” the journalist beside the photographer asked, recording device at the ready.

“These divine pieces are from Bouchra Jarrar’s private collection,” your mother answered with a soft pat to your father’s suit jacket.

“And what is this knockout piece?”

You had far less enthusiasm when the attention turned to you. “Alexandre Vauthier, haute couture.”

“If only he knew what a knockout you really were,” Charles whispered in your ear, earning a real smile from you that the camera quickly snapped at.

“And you, Charles?”

“I’m not sure, she dressed me,” Charles said with a wink to you, charming everyone in the crowd including the reporter.

“He’s wearing new season Valentino but he was distracted by the Hypercar race when we picked it out.”

Charles’ laugh teased your skin and he shrugged innocently. “Forza Ferrari, baby.”

You eventually made it to the end of the red carpet and into the cinema for the special screening of some new drama film up for an award. The lights dimmed and the crowd fell silent with the opening credits but your entire focus was on the hand that slipped into yours.

“It’s dark in here,” you whispered. “You don’t need to pretend.”

“Who said I am pretending?”

The armrest was suddenly much closer as you found yourself gravitating to him and your cheek came to rest on his shoulder before the title even appeared.

“Pretending would probably be easier.”

“Probably, but it’s too late for me.”

You didn’t tell him but you had the exact same thought.

Click here for the next part.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Neighbor!Soap comes home from a long deployment. It’s the longest missions he’s been on and that can be seen in the fact that the sides of his Mohawk have grown out and his actual mohawk has grown out too.

It looks a little wonky but it’s nothing he can’t fix, because it he’s let his hair grown out before. It’s just this time he’s too tired.

Too tired to shave or trim his hair to make it even…but not too tired to drop everything to go see you.

He barely threw his stuff inside his own flat before he was going over to yours to speak with you and before he could try to convince you to let him do you a favor, you stopped him.

“Your hair.” You pointed out and he instinctively ran his hand through it.

“Didn’t have time to fix it up,” he grinned. “Just growing out my mane, you know?”

“It’s nice.”

Soap wanted to argue because even he knew it was a mess and you were just being polite, but when he saw the soft look in your eyes as you stared at it with a sense of awe.

He almost felt a little self conscious that he didn’t clean it up before he came over to see you and that’s when he got an idea.

“Cut my hair for me, bonnie.” He offered and couldn’t help but chuckle when you stared at him incredulously.

“I don’t know how to cut hair.” You argue but he shrugged.

“I’ll teach ya.”

Somehow, he convinced you and now he was sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders with you standing in front of him holding a pair of clippers.

You looked nervous as you held them like it was an instrument that could seriously hurt him despite the fact that it had a guard on it.

Despite that, he had a smile on his face.

“You can start out with a trim.” He suggested and you looked at him helplessly. “Just make my hair even.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Then I’ll go back to the Mohawk.”

Soap watched you fight with yourself. He may have convinced you this far but you still had your doubts even thought he could careless about what happens to his hair.

It would grow back and it’s not like he’s never fucked up his hair before. This was just an excuse to get close to you.

He very gently grabbed your wrist and turned on the clippers, making you cringe with fear.

“Like this.” He guided your hand through the familiar motions and saw some of his hair fall out of the corner of his eyes. “Don’t over think it.”

"Okay..."

You started off slow, hesitant to cut his hair wrong before you found a rhythm on your own. You were incredibly gentle, more than anything he would ever be on his own head, and suddenly he found himself dozing off.

The sound of the clippers, your hands in his hair, the smell and presence of you had him relaxing so quick that he could hardly hold his head up. He fought hard against falling asleep and he was grateful you finished because he would've taken a nap in your chair.

Soap blinked a few times to wake himself up before he looked up at you with a soft smile.

You stared down at him with a slight flustered look on your face as you ran your fingers through his now full head of hair.

Soap shivered and couldn’t help but lean into your touch, his eyes nearly fluttering shut, he could sleep like this, he would sleep so much better if you ran your hands through his hair every night.

He stopped himself however and gave you a soft smile. He looked at himself in the mirror and he couldn’t help but feel proud of you for giving him a decent hair cut.

He need to shave his beard but he could do that on his own.

“Thanks, hen.” He beamed at you and you smiled back as well.

“You look different without the Mohawk.”

“A good different, right?”

You averted your eyes from him when he gave you a wink but you giggled, a sound he missed dearly.

“Very good.”

Bonus Soap with full head of hair:

[poisonous-honey]

Hello...

Lately is a shitty time for me on miHoyo's games. I lost both my 50/50s both to Genshin impact and Honkai star rail. On Genshin, i got QiQi by pulling Xianyun and Gepard by pulling Black Swan. Now i'm broke and my moral is at its lowest.

I'd love some headcanons (or a scenario) about SAGAU(and SAHSRAU if you can) hearing the reader yell and cry of frustration about this. Like: "I'M DONE I'M SO FUCKING DONE!! CAN I JUST HAVE THE ONLY THING I'VE WANTED FOR WORKING AND WAITING THAT HARD!!?? FUCK ALL OF YOU I HATE MY LIFE!!!!"

Sorry. I just wanted to let it out...

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Diluc, Jean, Mona, Keqing, Tighnari, Astral Express crew, and Gepard

Contains: SAGAU and SAHSR (Not Cult AU)

Note: Hey, hey! I'm sorry this happened to you. I also lost her to Qiqi and had to spend everything else I had to try again, 50/50s suck. Their banners aren’t gone yet though so I hope you end up getting both of them soon! (ノ_<。)ヾ(´ ▽ ` )

💛💛💛💛

It was an accident, it always is with them.

The six of them that are considered standard 5 stars never mean to ruin your chances. They care for you and your happiness, they also want you to continue to play their game. Even though they'd love to be the ones going on adventures with you, both to spend time with you and for their own benefit (Tighnari would love to study other nations' fauna, Diluc could gain new ideas for drinks etc.), they know forcing themselves into your party would never work. You'd just grow to hate them, which is the opposite of what they want.

They're jealous of other 5 stars. Sure they can join you technically whenever they want, unlike the others that have to deal with limited timed windows, but that also guarantees you want them. All they can do is break that or hope they're the lucky one chosen on Wanderlust Invocation. Not only do they have to share a space with each other, but they're also going against weapons, which none of them are remotely happy with.

It's when these emotions are at an all-time high, they're jealousy and longing, the stars will glow gold and tug on their heart.

Diluc is always at his desk when he accidentally takes it. Stewing over boring paperwork his mind will wander from time to time, eventually landing on thoughts of you. He'll find himself missing you and desiring your attention, not realizing you've started a wishing session until it's too late, and he hears you cursing the world. He feels incredibly guilty, and it only grows worse when the wind clatters against his windows. Tries to make it up to you with materials and mora. You’ll find your mail flooded with talent books, adventurers EXP, a ton of mora, and the sincerest apology he could write.

Jean would be trying to sleep. She doesn't have time to think about you during her job, so it’s when she’s on the brink of passing out she’ll start to think of you. The thought of travelling with you sounded like the best break she could get. Eventually she’ll fall asleep and dream about you, only to be suddenly woken up by your screaming. She panics and seeks advice from any and all of her friends on how to make it up to you. Ends up acting similar to Diluc, working herself to the bone to get you talent and weapon materials. She’ll pair them with a few dandelions before sending them to you.

Mona is thinking about food. During a time she forgets to set aside enough mora for a decent meal, she’ll find herself thinking about the delicacies you’re able to provide. Even if it involved fighting, it was a free source of marvellous food. Her mouth waters as she thinks about all the dishes you’ve made, only to be abruptly pulled from her thoughts when a star bumps into her and flies off. She sighs when she hears you start cussing up a storm. Knowing your current state, depressed and full of ire, is because of her, she’ll attempt to make it up to you in a way few others could. She manipulates the fates of the stars so you’re bound to get your next gold star early. A simple method she feels guarantees to make you happy and hopefully take the heat off of herself. It wasn’t simple she wishes you could praise her for it

Keqing would be reminiscing her interactions with you during lantern rite. Whenever she sees the traveller in the distance, but is too busy to stop and talk, that’s where her mind will wander when she finally gets a moment of rest. It’s at this moment of respite she’ll long to see you and the traveller again and when she’ll notice the sky turn gold. She feels incredibly bad when she hears you cry, but she doesn’t have much time to meaningfully apologize to you. The best she can do is write a letter to both you and the character she stole the spotlight from saying she’s sorry. She’ll definitely send you some Golden Shrimp Balls when she next has some for herself.

Tighnari, in a similar boat to Jean and Keqing, would be too preoccupied to miss you on a normal day. It’s when he’s out with his friends and slightly inebriated he mentions missing you. Alhaitham starts to mention how that’s a dangerous line of thought for him to have when Tighnari’s chest starts to glow gold. Everyone winces when you soon start shouting and Tighnari slams his face into the table. He’d end up gathering bunches of every flower in Sumeru and send them to you with a picture of him, Collei and Karkata. 

For Qiqi it's a little different. She can't remember the last time you've gone adventuring with her. Half the time she's too preoccupied to even remember she's already on your team. When a star falls and asks if she wants to go, she doesn't have time to check her notebook before she says yes, the star becoming hers and landing on your screen. 

Your rage and disappointment is always made evident fast, which always has Qiqi turning to Baizhu.

“Did I… Do something wrong?”

Baizhu sighs and kneels next to her, “You made a mistake, but it's alright. Come, why don't we look for an apology gift?”

The next day you open up the mail to see one from Qiqi. Attached to it are all the herbs she collected with Baizhu, her specialty dish No Tomorrow, and an acquaint fate.

Sorry… Qiqi doesn't remember what Qiqi did, but Qiqi knows Qiqi is sorry.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

Upon finishing the most recent event, you had teleported to the train suddenly before they noticed your presence leaving them. They couldn’t tell if you were in a menu or had left your computer entirely. After a while with nothing happening on your end everyone aboard the Astral Express quickly settled in, expecting to be here for a while longer. March was in her room organizing her photos, Dan Heng was going through the archives, and Himeko was making coffee while Stella and Welt were entertaining the guests. Gepard and Serval had come to visit the train that day. Pom Pom had wandered off earlier somewhere in the train and everything was relatively peaceful… Until they heard you start screaming.

March, Dan Heng, and Himeko all rushed into the Parlour car while the four already there were looking at each other in a bit of shock. It’s when they start making out what you’re saying and see Pom Pom rush back into the Parlour car did they realize you had started warping. A session which obviously didn’t go as planned.

They don't like hearing you angry or sad, so they try to come up with a plan, something - anything that will cheer you up without seeming too suspicious. All of them are in the middle of discussing when they also hear you mumble out a very quick and aggressive “Fuck Gepard.”

Everyone turns to him and his face goes red.

Plans are immediately put on hold as Stella whips out her baseball bat and attempts to smash his skull in. Welt tries to step in to stop her, Himeko and Dan Heng stand-off to the side (one more disappointed than the other), March cheers Stella on and Serval ignores her brother's plea for help.

They do eventually get around to cobbling up a multitude of jades for you to at least try again, but not before Stella nearly gave Gepard a concussion. He separately sends you an extremely long apology letter paired with a choice item to allow you to pick a 5 starlight cone of your choosing. Some of the others berate him for being so obvious, but he doesn't care as long as you're happy again.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (06)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: brief mentions of crimes (drugs, robbery, abduction), brief mentions of sex and hormones

a/n;; i have risen from the dead, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last updated (4 months 💀) But, please enjoy this chapter and hope that I do not disappear for another few more months until the next update lmao. Also posting this update while I'm on my lunchbreak lmao

You didn’t think that figuring out a place to meetup with Seungcheol would be difficult, but alas, it was. The places Seungcheol had initially suggested were either too far or the price range of their menus could amount to at least a month’s worth of your rent. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him that you had forgotten his parents had their own businesses, which obviously, means money is never an issue for Seungcheol.

After telling him you had to commute to some of the places or either needing to Uber or have Vernon pick you up, Seungcheol found a decently priced cafe near your place with a cosy looking interior design. Having finally settled down on a place to meetup, you now began to stress about an outfit.

You tore through your entire wardrobe before finally panic-calling Aki who agreed to help, on the condition that you tell her everything that will go down at the meetup. You agreed and after hours of outfit try-ons, you settled on a brown oversized sweater, a black pleated skirt, paired together with doc martens loafers.

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” your voice full of uncertainty as you stared at your reflection. Aki, who was on video call on your phone that’s propped up on your dresser, rolls her eyes at your question. “Babes, you’re literally so pretty right now that you could be someone’s gay or bi-awakening. Don’t worry, okay? I'm sure he’s equally nervous of finally seeing you again after what? Almost half a decade?”

“That's a dramatic way to say almost 5 years, but okay.”

“Just be your normal self, ___. Even if he’s changed appearance or physique wise, I'm sure he’s still the same ol’ Seungcheol from more than a decade ago. Well, at least for you, it’s more than a decade.”

“That is true… thanks for helping me out, Aki.”

“Anything for my bestie. Now, go and see your prince charming!”

“Can you and my parents stop calling him my prince charming?” you whined, only for Aki to shoo you through your phone.

“Tell me the deets afterwards! I want all the nitty-gritty - don’t you dare leave anything out!”

Seungcheol got to the cafe an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time. He tried to get some sleep but the adrenaline of being able to see you again kept him up. Sitting at the booth and occasionally glancing at the door, he would try to come up with things to talk about. Of course, he knew he had to explain why he dropped off the face of the earth for years without contacting you. But, he still needed to think of other ways to fix the rift between you both.

“Seungcheol…?”

When he hears his name being called, he lifts up his head and it was as if time had stopped. There you were, shyly standing in front of him as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A few seconds after he realised he was staring, Seungcheol snapped back into reality. “Have a seat, __.” Ushering to the seat across him, flashing you that gummy smile that still sent your heart running for miles.

You did as told and after placing both your orders to the waitress who came over, Seungcheol nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I didn’t know you were friends with Vernon…” he began, “Let alone a best friend since, y’know, Aki.”

“Yeah, I didn't really have a choice when he came up to me with that awful tie-dye during orientation. I was so glad when he got rid of it with how much my eyes were hurting.”

“That's Vernon for you,” he chuckles, “When he said he invited a friend, I was expecting maybe a classmate since Mingyu did the same with him.”

As you fidget, Seungcheol takes notice and leans his elbows on the table, reaching out a hand. “Hey, no need to be scared, okay? I know it’s been years and you’re most likely overthinking things right now, but I'm still me.”

“Where did you go…?” you asked in a shaky voice, “You just… ghosted me and later on, I found out you’ve been in Seoul for a while. Why… why didn’t you try to reach out?”

Withdrawing his hand and thrumming his fingers against the surface of the table, Seungcheol was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “That weekend when I headed to Seoul to check out Pledis, they had told my parents I qualified for one of their pre-u programmes. But, the slots in Korea were full, and if I did want to join the programme, I had to join their partnering unis abroad. They had Carat University in Japan and An Ode University in Melbourne.”

You quietly listened to Seungcheol as he continued.

While he wouldn’t mind waiting for an empty slot to be available in Pledis but, his parents had encouraged him to enrol into An Ode as they had an apartment in Melbourne. In the event he didn’t want to stay on his own, they’d be more than willing to pay for his dormitory. “They said the enrolment opportunities for pre-u programmes like these are rare… And, since I was given the opportunity, they encouraged me to take the chance.”

“… And you did…”

“I missed you like crazy, _. But, I couldn't get your calls or texts, not even reply nor call you back because I had to wait two weeks to be able to get a new phone and sim card. When I finally did get them, you had changed your number…”

Your face went red with embarrassment at the memory. A few days after your return from Jeju, your parents had brought you to go shop for a new phone and you’ve decided to change your number in the process. Since Seungcheol had dropped off the face of the earth at the time, you thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if you had changed your number since what were the chances of him calling you?

Turns out you were wrong.

“When I finished the programme, I stayed in Melbourne for a year and a half for their business course before transferring back to Korea to finish it in Pledis.”

“That was… that was at least two and a half years ago. Seungcheol, are you… are you telling me within those two years you never bothered to even look for me?”

“I did! I went back to Daegu to look for you, but your parents had told me you went to Pledis! I tried finding you all over the place, but for some reason you were never in my line of sight!”

“Wait, wait,” holding up your hand in disbelief to stop him from talking, “you went to see my parents? They never told me anything!”

“I begged them not to tell you!” he defended, “I wanted it to be a surprise! I wasn’t expecting our first meeting after years to be you witnessing me boxing!”

“How did you get into it in the first place though?” you asked, the waitress arriving with a tray of drinks and some cakes, “I heard you’ve been underground boxing for a year now.” Taking a sip from his drink, Seungcheol stared out the window, watching random cars and pedestrians pass by.

“I’ve been underground boxing for two years, actually, when I was back in Melbourne.” he answered. “A senior saw me during one of my Taekwondo matches during pre-u and invited me to try boxing. A few months later, he introduced me to this trainer who was looking to coach someone for a boxing match and everything just kinda fell into place.”

As a blanket of silence fell over the table, you muttered out a small “I missed you…”. Seungcheol gives you a smile, reaching out his hands to hold yours as he brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles – an action that causes you to blush. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

“I expect good food.”

And he replies with a sentence that has the butterflies you thought had died start fluttering again.

“Anything for you, pup.”

“...No…”

“Yes.”

“No… You’re lying…‘

“___, I swear on my life, I am not lying.”

“Ew, Cheol, that’s gross!” You whined, pushing at his shoulder with a disgusted expression, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life – much less a three way you had!”

Seungcheol laughs at your reaction, “Hey, if you think mine’s gross, you sure hear Mingyu’s. Who knew models were so… hormonal.”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!”

After your catch-up lunch at the cafe, you brought Seungcheol to the park near your apartment. The area enroute… was sketchy, to say the least, and that was putting it lightly. If you were to remove the sugarcoating, it looks as though you could get mugged or abducted if you lady luck was having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

“No offence, pup –”

“Non taken.”

“But, at least three blocks of your housing area looks like they’re being used for drug operations. I know you can fight for yourself – I mean, I taught you how to defend yourself when we grew up together. But, have you ever thought about… y’know, moving to a safer area?” 

You had thought about moving out, but with the current rent prices being equivalent to a monthly mortgage payment, the dingy area is the best you got.

“I mean… It can’t be that bad, right…?”

“___, look at the place… I know you value your independence but, surely there are studios or apartments for rent that are safer and more… well lit, y’know?” Seungcheol notices how you began to pick at your nails, a habit he’s noticed when you both grew up and a sign that you were either anxious, nervous or both.

“Budget restraints?”

“Yeah… This is the best I got, Cheollie… Anywhere close to campus is expensive, and a decent apartment is… well… if I had a mortgage, I could pay that off, y’know…? I have a part-time job – I work as a barista at one of the cafes near campus. It pays decently, kind of higher than the usual amount part-timers get per hour but, let’s say I move out and rent an apartment near campus – I wouldn’t be left with much money after paying for rent and the utility bills…”

“Ever thought of getting roommates?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr Choi, I am not a people’s person. Ask Hansol, it took me a year to actually open up to him, even after he’s been introducing me as his best friend for months.”

“Your parents should have property in Seoul, right? Why don’t you stay there instead?”

“Because I’m an only child, Seungcheol. My parents will pay the bills even if I was willing to fork up my own cash!”

Adding on the fact that you had no transport of your own, the dingy little apartment area really did seem like the best option for you – at least, for Seungcheol he was still… iffy (rightfully so, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you).

“Any public transport nearby?”

“There’s a bus stop that’s a 5 minute walk away from my place.”

“Okay…”

What you forgot to mention however, was the lack of reliable or functioning light source of said bus stop to your apartment’s lobby. But, surely, it wasn’t a detail worth mentioning to Seungcheol, you thought to yourself.

“Y’know, I thought your crush on Seungcheol would actually die down within those 5 years of no-contact.” Aki confessed as you typed on your laptop, phone propped up against one of your pen organisers. “I mean, it kind of did? But, instead of you being over over him, it’s more like… it’s more like your feelings weren't as obvious as back then.”

“Was it that obvious though?” you asked, turning your head to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders, “Not gonna lie, you’re pretty good at hiding it. I only noticed it after spending more time with you and noticing the subtle signs. If anyone was observant enough, they’d notice. But, to those that just look over the surface, not really.”

“...Do you think Cheol noticed…?”

“___, I might offend you and almost all the male species out there with this statement but, boys are dumb.” Aki moves her position from her desk to her bed, lying down on her stomach. “You both have been friends since you were kids so he should be picking up the signs. If he doesn’t then he’s either dumb or playing dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you asked, “Do you think he knows I like him and he’s just playing me?”

“You and I both know Seungcheol isn’t like that,” Aki began, “Your well-being is a priority to him – you’re a priority to him. Maybe he’s never thought about it, y’know? You both grew up together, maybe the lines were blurred to him.”

“But… what if he is, and he’s just really good at hiding it?” you asked again, the anxiety and nervousness eating you up as you thought about Seungcheol taking advantage of your feelings.

“___, darling, you and I both know Seungcheol always puts his loved ones above him – he makes them a priority. And, he’s always put you first, even up to the point he dropped off the face of the earth!”

Aki could still see the uncertainty on your face, which by all means, you had every right to feel that way. After all, Seungcheol had gone no-contact for 5 years and a person can change a lot within those 5 years. Who’s to say he actually is just a bastard who would step on people’s heads just to get what he wants. “Why don’t you start spending more time with him? Like the good ol’ times!” Aki suggested.

“Rekindle the friendship, y’know? Sure, you both had a catch up session today, but you and I both know that isn’t enough. 5 years worth of catching up – and not to mention, I need to kick his ass.”

You let out a small laugh, “You’ll need to fly over to do that, Aki.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me, ___.” Aki playfully warns, narrowing her eyes at you and pointing a finger at the screen, “I have the money to do so, and I will.”

“God, Aki…”

"Hey, Seungcheol isn't the only one that would do anything for you and has the money to do so."

[0212] cheollie: hey, ik it's pretty late rn [0213] cheollie: but, i just wanted to text you this before i forget [0213] cheollie: thanks for agreeing to meet up with me today and hear me out about my whole disappearance and lost all contact [0213] cheollie: and i'm really, really, really glad that you still see me as that boy you grew up with all those years ago [0214] cheollie: and i really had a great time catching up with you today [0214] cheollie: and i'll always be here for you if you ever need me, ok?

Seungcheol stared at the text he's about to send out.

i'm always going to be right by your side no matter what

After silently debating with himself, he deleted the draft and set his phone on his nightstand, laying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom - contemplating as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

[tossawary]

In MDZS, Wei Wuxian is able to look at the sacrificial ritual circle and read Mo Xuanyu's personal notes to guess what happened and also learn the basics of Mo Xuanyu's entire life... And then he doesn't clean it up?

(EDIT: I was wrong about this! Wei Wuxian was supposedly "destroy any evidence of the sacrificial ritual circle" directly before running off with the donkey, at the very end of the chapter. I'm not sure how because earlier in the chapter it says that Mo Xuanyu's shack has "no water" and after humiliating the Mo Family, he just picks a clean spot on the floor to sleep, but he manages somehow! Original post remains below the cut.)

To be fair, Wei Wuxian is shocked and feels like shit, and has apparently tasked with murders he doesn't want to commit, and is also a little bit hangry. Shortly after his first foray to get his bearings and embarrassing the Mo Family, he gets dragged out of that blood-stained shack, accused of murder, involved in a fight, and then has to skedaddle when Hanguang-Jun shows up. He didn't have much inclination to clean (he didn't make the blood circle! Why does he have to clean it?!) and then didn't get much opportunity to grab a mop and clean up that mess to cover his tracks.

But Wei Wuxian's narration says that Mo Xuanyu "dared to summon him by name". It's also possible that some of Mo Xuanyu's resentful scribbles included more information about the sacrificial ritual and Wei Wuxian didn't find them, or threw his hands up in the air with frustration at the situation before reading those ones.

And I think that this would be a really funny way for Lan Wangji to find out that Wei Wuxian is back, instead of the shitty flute-playing and Wen Ning's appearance. Lan Sizhui describes to Lan Wangji everything weird and terrifying that just went down with the Mo Family, then says, "Oh! Senior Mo has disappeared! We should go make sure that he's okay! (Jingyi, he helped us in his own way, it's only the decent thing to do to check on him.) Let me ask a servant where his quarters are and let's hope he just went to go hide there."

And then Lan Wangji and a bunch of Baby Lans walk right into that shack and the horrifying scene of a sacrificial ritual circle drawn in blood, surrounded by the scribblings of a madman, which apparently clearly says (to those who can discern these things): "I AM SUMMONING THE YILING PATRIARCH'S SOUL AND GIVING HIM MY BODY TO DO EVIL ON MY BEHALF."

Lan Wangji: "..."

Lan Sizhui: "..."

Lan Jingyi: "What the fuck."

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine King catching feelings for you

Kaido: ah, there he is, King this is the new navigator for the main ship

King: [eyes you in disinterest] I see

You: hello, I look forward to working with you.

King: I'm sure you do.

You: [ignores his rude comment]

Kaido: would you show them around the ship for me?

King: I suppose

You: [opens the door and gestures to it] Lead the way handsome.

King: [looks at you in surprise]

During a dinner

King: [sees you're not touching your sashimi plate]

You: [notices him looking] Do you like sashimi?

King: ... Yes

You: I'm a tad full at the moment to eat mine, could I get your help with it?

King: [wastes no time taking the platter from you] I take it you don't like sashimi?

You: it's not that, I'm just not in the mood for it.

King: [can't tell if you're lying] Good, because I don't know if I can work with someone who doesn't like sashimi.

You: but it would mean more for you.

King: [pauses because he didn't think of it that way before] ... So you're going to give me all your sashimi from now on?

You: [smiles at him] Maybe, if you've been a good boy.

King: [feels unfamiliar emotions stir within him]

After that dinner

You: [goes to King's rooms] King?... King, Kaido wanted me to deliver this course log to you to review for tomorrow... Huh, I'll just leave it on his desk with a note.

King: [exits the shower with just a towel and sees you kneeling on his desk chair and scribbling something down]

You: [turns around to see him trying to duck into another room] King? Is that you?

King: [freezes, knowing he's been seen]

You: wow, I've never seen you without your mask, [realizes this is a breach of his privacy, so you should your eyes] Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to look, I promise I won't say anything to anyone.

King: [grabs his sword and stands over you]

You: [looks up when you hear the blade slide out of the sheath]

King: [feels dread and guilt fill his chest when he sees the look of terror in your eyes]

You: why?

King: I can't let you leave now that you know what I am, the government can't know that I'm still alive. I won't ever go back to being someone else's lab rat.

You: I understand. [Lowers your head in acceptance]

King: [can't bring himself to kill you, so he throws it down] damn it all, get out of my chair.

You: [scrabbles out, and silently watches him sit down and make a call using his den den mushi]

King: Kaido, the new navigator knows

Kaido: ehh? I just got them, do you know how hard it is to find a decent navigator and you're telling me you already killed the brand-new one!

King: I haven't killed them.

Kaido: They escaped you, are they at least wounded?

King: [gets comfortable in his chair] No, they're standing right before me.

You: [had a perfect view of his thighs and the v of his hips peaking out of the towel, and now you can see up his towel, so you look away]

Kaido: what's the hold-up?

King: [sees you looking away, so he leans forward, takes your jaw in his hand, and makes you look at him] We can't afford to lose our only navigator while out at sea. I want to keep them by my side in the meantime.

Kaido: [can tell he's not hearing the full truth] ... As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties, you can do whatever you want with them.

King: thank you

Kaido: now good night [hangs up]

King: [puts down the receiver, and runs his thumb over your lips] ... If you try to leave my sight, I will kill you without hesitation. You will stay by my side, and do everything I say. I do not tolerate disobedience, do you understand me? [Gently shakes you to get his point across]

You: [feels tears well up in your eyes]

King: [feels guilty] I'll have servants bring your things, you'll sleep here, with me, from now on... I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm doing this for my own safety, and because I don't want to kill you.

You: [sniffles] I understand

King: [can hear your distress in your voice and it makes him feel sick] Through that door is the bathroom, go bathe while I make a few calls.

You: [slinks into the other room]

King: [calls the kitchens to deliver your favorite desserts, and calls the servant quarters to have them bring your stuff to his quarters]

After your shower

You: [exits the bathroom wearing a clean kimono]

King: [lounging on the couch, in front of a rather impressive spread of sweets] Your things have been moved into your new room.

You: I'm getting a room all to myself?

King: no, you'll be sleeping with me, I need to know where you are at all times

You: we'll be sharing a bed?!

King: yes, now please help yourself to these sweets, I did order them for you.

You: you did, why? [Goes directly for your favorite dessert]

King: You were distressed, and this was the only way I could think of to help you feel better... Your distress is understandable, I know this isn't ideal for you, being practically chained to my side... And while I can't let you go, I just wanted you to know that... I don't want you to worry or be afraid of me, because I'm not going to hurt you. I can't risk going back to what I was before Kaido, I won't go back to it.

You: ... You mentioned the government earlier, I take it you were held captive by them.

King: yes, it's why I wear the mask.

You: [can see him practically squirming in his seat] Really? And here I was thinking you wore it because it was a fetish.

King: well it is, but it's not the sole reason I wear it.

You: Sasaki owes me 800 Berry then.

King: you people were betting on me?

You: to be fair we bet on everything, there's not a lot to do on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

King: [sighs dramatically] That's true, but back to the topic at hand, I usually kill people for finding out what I am.

You: but not me, what makes me so special?

King: I don't know.

You: [ruminates for a moment] How did seeing me distressed make you feel?

King: uncomfortable, guilty, I dunno? I just didn't like it.

You: hmm I see, so you don't want to kill me, seeing me upset disturbs you, and you have anxiety if I am out of your sight.

King: believe whatever you want about my reasoning, it changes nothing.

You: ... One final question

King: [rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms] Fine, final question.

You: when you were on the call with Kaido, why did you make me look at you?

King: I didn't like that you were looking away.

You: I see.

King: ... Why did you look away?

You: I could see up your towel.

King: How much did you see?

You: some of your balls, and most of your shaft.

King: [feels arousal and embarrassment well up in him] Are you finished with your food?

You: I believe so.

King: come, I'll show you the bedroom.

You: [follows him and takes it in] Why are there no lights?

King: because it's time for bed [gets settled in bed when he notices you haven't moved] are you coming or are you sleeping on the floor?

You: that bed doesn't look like it'll fit both of us?

King: [rolls his eyes, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the bed up on his chest.] It's just fine, relax and go to sleep, I won't do anything.

You: [rests your weight on him and struggles to get comfortable]

King: [agitated because you're so close to him and he's experiencing new emotions he didn't know he had] Would you stop fidgetingñ

You: I'm trying to get comfortable and avoid kicking you in your dick!

King: [realizes how aroused he is by having you so close] tsk, do it quickly.

The next morning

King:[wakes up empty-handed, panics, and looks around until he sees you]

You: [asleep on his wing, face nuzzled into his down feathers, and has handfuls of his flight feathers.]

King: [mental cogs slide into place and he realizes he's in love with you] Oh fuck [sits up]

You:[awakens with a shriek when the surface below is yanked out from under you]

King: [sits up on the side of the bed with his hands covering his face]

You: [pushes your upper half up onto your palms as you twist to look over at him] What's going on?

King: [ looks over to see you half asleep, messy-haired, and your kimono had loosened in your sleep and was now only closed over your lap and under the obi belt, giving him an eyeful of your shoulders, the center of your chest, and from mid-thigh down]

You: it's like five in the morning, what's going on? [Reaches out and pulls on his feathers]

King: nothing, go back to sleep.

You: [doesn't need to be told twice, and plops back down and wiggles back into a comfortable position]

Bout a week later

King: [has so much pent-up tension he's basically a walking time bomb that everyone avoids]

Kaido: what have you been doing to him to make him so cranky?

You: I have absolutely no clue.

Kaido: well you better do something about it before he snaps and burns down my ship.

You: [ goes to King's room to find him tensed up and hunched over his desk] Kaido wants me to do something.

King: what now?

You: he wants me to fix whatever I've been doing to make you so cranky.

King: [scoffs] You haven't done anything.

You: [climbs into his lap, straddles his thighs, and cups his cheeks] And that might be what I'm doing wrong.

King: [relaxes at the softness in your voice, but pulls your hands away from his mask] This is my problem to deal with.

You: can I please help, I'll do anything.

King: anything?

You: [nods] anything

King: [wraps his hands around your hips, and pushes you down so you're seated on his lap]

You: [feels the heat rolling off the erection trapped in his pants] Oh my

King: [guides your body to gently rock against him] You said you'd do anything, and it's your fault it's like this. Don't you think you should take responsibility?

You: [huffs, but puts your back into grinding down on him] It's been days since I moved in, why didn't you tell me sooner?

King: I was already keeping you captive, [Grunts and starts to pant as he tilts his hips up to get more friction] It felt like I would've been pressuring you into something non-consensual.

You: I see [slows your movements to a halt]

King: [huffs and bucks his hips in frustration, pulling on your hips to get you to move again] Don't fucking stop, please.

You: [goes slow] Tell me, is this just lust?

King: [desperate] It can be anything you want it to be, please I just want you.

You: is this all you want? My body?

King: I'll take whatever you give me, but I'll always want more. I'm so fucking greedy for you. I want it all, I want the sashimi you don't like. I want fun evenings out, and restless nights in with you, only to be followed by quiet passionate mornings with you. I want you to look at only me, smile at only me, to fuck only me. I'll take whatever you give, just please give me this, [Presses his thumbs into the softness on your belly] even if it's only this once.

You: you're in love with me?

King: [slumps pathetically into his chair in defeat, and looks at the ceiling] Fuck ... Yes, I am. I am in love with you, and spending every night with you pressed against me has made me insatiable.

You: [giggles]

King: [flips you off]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[baby-tini]

Heyyy!! Ily GURL 💗 I love your contents so much. It's a shame now requests are closed. But when requests will be open can you please answer this?

How'd all time line Mikey would react to their darling getting pregnant accidentally? What kind of father they might be?

My inbox isn't open yet, but I had this idea in my drafts for a while and my baby fever with Mikey is baddd. OG\Timeline- He wouldn't hate it but, he'd be pretty distant for a couple days, he would need time too come to terms with the news and how he feels about it. When he does come too terms with it though, he actually would be a pretty decent father, his only big problem is he'd be quite absent, because of his.. job. He'd take the next couple days, after you told him, too sit you down and talk about it, how you wanted everything too go, if you even wanted too keep it. Dating him obviously comes with dangers, for you, but even more so with a child involved. He'd let you know everything that could happen, with carrying his child but he'd leave it up to you on whether or not, you'd wanna keep it. He'd definitely step up and be a father, taking care of you and the child, protecting you both with his life. The child obviously can't have a normal childhood but this version of Mikey would do the best he can in order too make his child feel normal. Manila- He'd have a mixed reaction, he'd be pretty silent at first, maybe leaving the apartment for a couple days then he'd come back, feeling a little better after taking some time too process everything, he'd be pretty excited about having a kid. After loosing all his friends, by his own hands, he'd be pretty scared that he'd hurt his child but with a lot of reassurance, he would be a good dad. He'd do lot of the work as well, when you're tired, he'd change the baby, if the baby is taking formula or is bottle ready, he'd feed the baby as he held them, starring down into their little eyes as the baby grabs at him. He did start tearing up when the babies first words were dada, Mikey had the biggest, cockiest smirk on his face and he bragged about it for days on end. He would also absolutely teach his child martial arts, all the Mikey timelines would, but with Manila Mikey it'd be a fun little activity. Kanto- When you tell him you're pregnant, he'd just stare at you for a bit, his eyes dark and blank as he reads the pregnancy test over and over again. He really didn't want you too keep the baby at first but as your stomach grew and your pregnancy moved further along, he started too like the idea of having a child with you. This version of Mikey takes a while too become attached to the child, not wanting too build a bond with the baby, knowing something could go wrong or they might get hurt, but evidently when you find Mikey holding the sleeping baby in his arms, telling them that he'd protect the baby with his life at three in the morning, you know he loves his child even if he can be a little cold. He can't be super active in his babies life but he does always carry a picture of the baby on him. He does let the baby sit on his lap when he's in meetings, he dares someone too say something about it. To be honest, he surprisingly has the baby more then you do, scared that if the baby leaves his sight something bad will happen.

Bonten- He'd stare blankly before asking you too repeat yourself too make sure he heard you right the first time. When you do, multiple times at that, repeat yourself and show him the test, he goes quiet and just sits there, starring at your stomach. He's not very helpful through-out the pregnancy, being that, he is constantly busy so he'll have, mainly, Kakucho help you, getting you anything you, whenever you need it. All of the executives are made aware of your pregnancy and are told too do as you ask. They are also expected too protect you with their lives, meaning you're under security constantly, you don't really have much privacy, if any at all. Mikey expects constant update through-out the day, he doesn't care if it's meaningless, he wants too know about it. He will spend more time with you though but it takes a couple days for him too even hold the baby after they're born, scared that he'll drop them or hurt them. I will say however that your child is the safest human being in the world, there's constantly very armed security around you and the baby. That child will be so spoiled, anything they want, whenever they want, whatever they want. Street Racer- The best father out of all the Mikey timelines. He'd be very happy if you got pregnant, accidently or not. He is cannonly a very family-oriented person, so he'd be so happy too have his own little family. As soon as you tell him, he's calling everyone, all his friends, his family and he's so excited. As he's talking too Draken and telling him the wonderful new, he does start crying, he's so scared about what kind of father he''' be and that something could still go wrong in this timeline. Meaning that something could still happen to his family but when Draken explains that, while his worries are valid, Mikey would make an amazing father and that this timeline is safe and he has nothing too worry about. With the reassurance from his friends and family, but most importantly, you. He calms down a lot, this version of Mikey would be and is the most active in his child life. Going too all their school functions, their sports games, attending every graduation. He is literally the perfect father. Just a cute little HC of mine but I picture all Mikeys too be a girl dad, but I think it would be so fucking cute if Mikey had a son named Tanjiro (not because of demon slayer but because it's similar to Manjiro.) that looked exactly like him, the black eyes, the blonde hair and the love for Dorayaki. It would just be so cute, too have a little mini Mikey running around.

[atarathegreat]

Scary Wife Privileges Tokyo Revengers

Featuring: Chifuyu Matsuno, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba

You were getting tired of it, hearing Chifuyu complain about Takemichi and how the man runs things. "He'll come back, I know he will, but it's just aggravating right now."

When he talked about his boss he made little sense. You never understood his ramblings about "any day now." and "It's been twelve years." Some days it was too much and you started an argument with Chifuyu, an argument where he constantly refused to tell you anything about what he meant. It was pissing you off. Majorly. You wanted Chifuyu to be happy, but when he came home exhausted and angry every night, you didn't feel that he was happy.

His friends greeted you as you walked through the big building, smiles and waves from both sides as you walked to your husband's office. Chifuyu had been in a particularly bad mood the whole week and you hadn't made it any better by causing fights when he came home. Remorse was one of the many emotions you were feeling, topped with a cute little bow to compound everything and stamp it in like concrete.

"Fuyu," You spoke softly, a way you hadn't spoken to him in months, "do you have time?"

It was in his eyes, the fact that something had already happened was painted into the dark circles under his lashes. It made your heart lurch as he smiled sadly at you. "Always have time for you, baby." Chifuyu held a hand out to pull you in as you approached, "As long as you didn't come here to fight, in that case, I'm in a meeting." His half hearted joke made you sigh, "Already, today?"

His chest heaved with a sigh, "Trashed his own office. Don't worry, he wasn't mad at me this time."

There was no time for a response as the very man exploded into your husband's office behind you. He was on edge, clearly, but you didn't care about what he had to say. Months of anger from seeing your husband drink until he fell asleep with his face buried in your chest just poured out.

"Shut up. No one cares about whatever bullshit you're about to spout. Is this how you treat all of your workers?" You snapped, hands on your hips as you chastised him, "You're the exact definition of an asshole and so help you if my husband comes home angry again."

Takemichi looked caught off guard, a stark contrast to the man you'd not only met at your wedding, but the man in the stories Chifuyu brought home. He stumbled over his words, but you continued to chew into him as Chifuyu hugged around your waist and smiled into your shirt.

Mitsuya was used to the nitpicking his clients did, often smiling and agreeing, even if he didn't. He wasn't the type to retaliate because of a bad mood, especially since it was going to be something the other person wore and he would never have to look at it again.

And yet he kept having to send you silent glares and pointed looks to keep you from speaking up as you watched him work.

"And maybe if there was more detail in the train-"

"Do you know how long he's spent on this ugly garbage?" You spoke clearly, your nose in a book so you couldn't see Mitsuya glaring at you, "All the detail on the sleeves took two months anyways. And that's not including the beading along the end. Can't you appreciate that?"

The client stared at you, open mouthed and shocked. But you kept on, "To ask for more detail when he's already fixing the fabric to your measurements is... Stupid."

Mitsuya sighed, "Apologies for her."

"Don't apologize for me." When did you get off the couch? "How about you let him finish this piece so he can come home to his family at a decent time, yeah? His daughters are tired of going to sleep without Daddy tucking them in."

The club was loud. Too loud. You cursed under your breath at your husband for bringing you along with him. It wasn't your vibe, the whores and half naked bartenders that walked around while rich, old men played card games. Your dress, the one Hakkai told you to wear so you would fit in while still being modest, was swaying around and scratching at your ankles. People were staring at you as you walked through with your heels in hand. It wasn't your fault, the shoes were hurting your feet and Hakkai had disappeared almost an hour ago. You would've already headed home if you knew Hakkai wouldn't throw a fit.

"Black Dragon trash." You hissed under your breath when you finally saw him. He was laughing with his guys, seemingly ignoring the woman massaging his shoulders. Hakkai zoned in on your hips as you straddled his lap, your chest pressing into his face as you got in the woman's face, "Hands off, unless you want to give hand jobs with stumps for the rest of your life."

The fear you instilled in the woman was attractive to Hakkai, and his men noticed as well. It wouldn't have been the first time you'd left them with raging hard ons, and Hakkai sent a glare at all of them.

"Go rub up on someone else's husband, or so help me god the only use that pretty little mouth will have is sucking food through a straw."

[zivazivc]

Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust: