#I'm not really planning on writing any more

[lowkeyremi]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 !

pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: thank you for the request @nicoleisdumb ! this was so fun to write and a nice refreshing break from jjk :3 miss writing abt these boys. summary: You forgot date night ! Oops... now your man is ignoring you?? How are you gonna fix this? content: slight angst to fluff, established relationships (marriage for a few, hehehehehe I will always find a way to sneak babies in), cursing, kinda suggestive for kiyoomi's part. not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k

❥ 𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀

Rintaro is not one to usually get upset when you forget things because you're human just as he is and he forgets things all the time. He forgets his keys at home sometimes, or his wallet, sometimes he forgets his birthday, etc. (never his phone, he always has that thing).

There has never been a day that he's forgotten a date or an anniversary to your surprise. Lately, though, work has consumed both you and your boyfriend. He was handling it better though, because when you'd get home you would immediately collapse onto the bed and fall asleep. Rintaro would make sure to change you into something more comfortable and at least clean your face with a warm, wet cloth and your face wash.

Today was no different from any others. As soon as you remove your shoes and lay in the bed, all of your problems don't matter anymore. It was only around 7 pm then.

The morning had arrived in a blur. Finally, you had a day off. This morning is off though, because you don't wake up with a set of pajamas on or Rin's t-shirt. That was your first clue to something being off.

The second clue was the fact that he is not in bed. Rin doesn't get up out of bed unless he absolutely has to. Usually, he's holding you captive in his arms. Before you investigate, you take the initiative to shower and brush your teeth. When you're in a fresh pair of clothes; a tank top and shorts, you slowly make your way into the living room, sleep still in your body.

A brown tuft of hair sticks out from under your mickey mouse blanket and a body way too big for the couch is curled up on it. Why is he sleeping on the couch?

"Rin, baby, why are you on the couch?" Silence. He's awake, you know it because of the sound from his phone that's muffled by the blanket. Is he ignoring you? There's no way... he must not have heard you.

So you speak up in case he didn't hear you the first time, "Morning, Rin!"

Still nothing. He doesn't even move. What is his problem? Your mood instantly deflates into something sour. There was a hope within you that you would finally get to spend time with him today. Be it cuddles or going out.

Since he's not talking to you, you'll just decide to make breakfast in order to pass the time and fill the silence. While breakfast is being made you try to think of things you could have possibly done to upset him.

Then it suddenly clicks... you wanted to go out with him today. He had planned to take you out yesterday. That had to be it, right?

"Rinnie was yesterday date night? I'm sorry for forgetting. I think you had tickets for something? I feel so fucking bad, baby." Sleep had instantly taken you last night that you forgot to set an alarm or something so you could remember date night.

He still didn't say anything, but he did get up from the couch to get some food. His gold eyes were cold and unforgiving.

"Rintaro. I'm really sorry. I guess my body got used to going to sleep right when I got home. I didn't even check to see if we were doing anything yesterday. I'll make it up to you, we can go out tonight?"

He's not mad at you, not anymore at least. Even though he's not mad at you, he kind of wanted to be. It's hard for him to be upset with you for too long.

"Don't fall asleep this time, sleepyhead." That familiar smile that you know so well appears on his face. It causes you to smile just as wide if not wider.

In seconds your arms are wrapped around him in a loving hug. "I won't fall asleep. Promise."

❥ 𝐊. 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

Kei is mean and petty about it. Date night is usually something simple like Netflix and some homemade snacks or something of the sorts. Mainly because the two of you like to stay in rather than go out.

He texted you asking where you were, only for you to reply that there was some old close friend of yours visiting town, so you decided to hang out with them.

When you got home late into the night, it was a little too quiet for you. Kei is probably asleep or playing on his play station, you assume. So, without even knowing that your boyfriend is upset, you go through your whole nightly routine.

Upon entering your bedroom you see his body lying in bed, his chest rising and falling every second. "I'm home." Leaves your lips in a whisper. There is no response so you assume he's asleep.

Halfway through the night you can't sleep, at all. It's probably because your boyfriend's comforting hands aren't wrapped around you, like usual.

You softly nudge your boyfriend's side trying to ease him awake, "Kei."

After a few more tries he finally startles awake, "what?"

"I can't sleep." You whine, "I need you to hug me."

"Shoulda' thought 'bout that before you went off with your friend instead of having date night." His tone is sour, from both being woken up and from you forgetting date night.

A small gasp leaves your lips, suddenly the conversation you two had a week prior to last night floods your brain. You weren't working that day and neither was Kei, which meant you guys could have your annual movie marathon.

"I'm sorry baby, I completely forgot..." He doesn't say anything to you and you can't tell what he's thinking because his back is facing you.

With a new spring of motivation you hop out of bed to make some of your favorite movie snacks and grab your laptop, before heading back to your bedroom.

"How about a redo?" Kei turns his body to look at you, he eyes the snacks and your computer. How could he stay mad at you?

"Hurry up before I change my mind." A huge cat-like grin adorns your pretty face.

❥ 𝐖. 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

"Daddy, why red circle?" Your little son Nao asks looking at the calendar on the fridge.

"Mommy and Daddy were supposed to go out tonight, but work called Mommy and asked her to come." Wakatoshi explains to his three year old.

The original plan was for Nao's nanny to come a little early because Wakatoshi finally had time off of work and so did you. When she came to take care of your son you two were going to go to dinner and see this new jazz group.

Wakatoshi had only told his son part of the truth, you did have to suddenly go to work but it wasn't because they called you in, it was because you requested to work late, so you could have more time off in the future.

The only reason he sugar-coded it was, because he would never want to paint you in a bad light.

The both of you have enough to support the household and live a steady life so he has no idea why you decided to go into work tonight. It seems you'd even forgotten that you were supposed to go out on a date with him tonight.

"Mommy not gettin' dinner with you?" He asks for clarity.

"Yeah, that's right." He gives the little guy a pat to the head.

"So it's just you and me. After bath time and dinner we can do something fun like watch a movie."

"We watch Dootopa?" He asks with a beaming smile on his face.

"You wanna watch Zootopia?"

"Yes yes!!!" That is his all time favorite movie. Flash the sloth is his favorite character next to Judy Hopps.

"Okay, well lets hurry up and get bath time and dinner time over with."

When you arrive home, your two favorite boys are fast asleep on the couch. You make the assumption they've been watching movies all night because Toy Story 2 is playing and neither are awake to watch it.

Nao is curled up in his father's lap, while Wakatoshi's hand is supporting him in case he falls.

You pick the sleeping little boy up in order to take him to his bed. Wakatoshi ever the light sleeper awakes when you remove Nao from his lap.

Instead of smiling and kissing you goodnight he turns the TV off and proceeds to walk straight to your shared bedroom without a word.

You quickly place your son down in his bed kissing him goodnight. You know why he's upset with you and there's an eagerness for you to fix it.

"I totally forgot about dinner, honey, I'm sorry." Those words leave your lips as soon as you enter your bedroom.

Your hurry to change into something more comfortable so you can join him in bed.

"Don't be mad 'Toshi." He grunts, his back is turned to you, so who knows what he's thinking.

Luckily for you he tends to not hold grudges.

"I'll get us a reservation at your favorite place," desperation seeps into your voice when he still doesn't answer you, "I really feel dumb for calling into work today, please cut me a break baby-"

"You aren't dumb, by any means, and I'm not mad. I'm confused." That's when you remember that Wakatoshi doesn't usually ignore you when he's upset about something.

The reason he doesn't say anything is usually because he's thinking.

You wait for him to tell you why he's confused and as you do so you sink into bed. At the point he turns over to see your face.

"I'm confused as to why you needed to work late when you already have so many days off."

"Well- I was hoping the three of us could go on vacation this summer, if the team doesn't require you to do your workouts there." His confusion is replaced with awe.

"Just ask them for days off, if they dock your pay it won't matter. We have enough to live comfortably, I promise." It feels good to finally have your man looking into your eyes again. A relieved sigh leaves your lips.

❥ 𝐎. 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀

"Forgettin' something?" Your husband asks right before you walk out the door to go to your best friend's baby shower. He's leaning against the door frame, his huge arms flex when he goes to cross them over his equally large chest.

Is there something you're forgetting? Nothing rings a bell, so you assume he means you're about to forget to kiss him goodbye.

You lean into kiss him and he kisses you back of course, but there's still a pout on his face and he doesn't look satisfied.

"I love you, 'Samu! I gotta get going before I'm late!" So you forgot about it. You forgot that tonight Osamu was supposed to take you to the shop and fix up a nice dinner for you two at your favorite table. He'd serve your favorite wine and you two would talk about the stupidest things into the early hours of the morning. He even closed early for tonight.

I mean, he can't blame you, your best friend of a lifetime is having a baby shower, and of course she wants you there. It would have made him feel a little bit better if you at least remembered it, but you didn't.

Osamu wouldn't be a Miya if he wasn't at least a little bit petty about it. He's decided he'll ignore you until you figure out that you'd forgotten about your date tonight. Maybe if he's not too sour he'll make dinner for you.

The petty man in question has been watching the clock for the past twenty minutes. You were supposed to be home by now, because it's already 8:45 pm. The baby shower started at 6 and ended at 7, so, where are you?

Just as he asks himself that question, the telltale sound of keys on the other end of the door snaps him out of his trance.

"Hey baby, I'm back!" The door swings open and your pretty face greets him.

He doesn't say anything back to you, he just pretends to be busy on his phone.

"Sorry I got back so late, I stayed to help her clean everything up." Your eyes watch your husband carefully, checking for any sign of him being upset, because he doesn't say anything yet again.

"What's wrong, 'Samu?" Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's definitely mad, now you just need to figure out why.

After a quick change into your slippers and your keys are on the rack you walk up to him, giving him a hug from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder. He's scrolling through twitter, his personal one not the one for promoting the shop.

"Why are you sulking? You're acting like your brother." Osamu accepts his fate, you know he can't ignore you when you compare him to his brother.

"Do not compare me to that oversized baby." When he hears your beautiful laugh he almost forgets why he was upset, almost.

"Did I not tell ya that ya were forgettin' somethin' before ya left?" The question in his voice makes you think for a second.

"Was it not a kiss?" He shakes his head. Now you're completely lost.

"I was 'posed to take ya down to the shop and we were gonna eat at our table." When he finishes his sentence you gasp in remembrance. Oh shit. You forgot about date night.

"Baby, you can't possibly be telling me I had to choose you or her." He stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes.

"Nah, I was just hoping ya'd at least remember it." A shudder rolls down his spine when you give him a small kiss on the neck.

"I'm sorry for forgetting, baby. Let's have a do ov-" Osamu doesn't allow you to finish because he scoops you up bridal style and brings you into the kitchen to set you down on the counter.

"Ya better watch me cook or I won't forgive you."

"Aye aye captian!"

"Yer so annoying." He smiles at you.

❥ 𝐊. 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀

"Bye baby! Mama and Dada love you!" Your baby girl waves at you shyly as you and Kiyoomi drop her off with her grandparents.

"I wuv you too! Bye bye Mama, bye bye Dada." Kiyoomi hugs his daughter tightly before setting her down next to her grandma.

"Alright, sweet girl, make sure to be good for nana and poppa okay?" She nods her adorable little head, the tiny ponytails you put in her hair swing rapidly.

As soon as you guys are in the car, a look of excitement flashes in your husband's eyes.

"What?" You can't help smile when he looks at you like that.

"Made us that reservation for brunch like you asked." Your smile immediately drops. You'd forgotten that you and Kiyoomi planned this whole weekend out already. You two had planned this weekend two weeks prior, which is kind of why you forgot and booked a mani-pedi for an hour from now.

"Fuckkkkk." Why do you forget the most important things?

"Kiyo, can we do dinner instead? I forgot about brunch and booked a mani-pedi because today is the only day my nail lady could fit me in."

A tension forms almost immediately when you inform him of your plans. Guilt is heavy on your stomach while listening to your husband cancel brunch over the phone. The rest of the car ride is silent except for the sound that's happening outside of the car.

Your husband is kind enough to drop you off at your nail appointment. You feel so bad as you hop out of the car, so in order to try and smooth things over you offer for him to come inside but he just mumbles a quick, "No thank you, I'll come get you when it's done."

That's how you ended up spilling everything to your nail lady. She shakes her head as she shapes the gel nails into the shape you asked for. "What's his favorite color on you, sweetheart?"

You think for a second before answering, "He loves when I get sage green." The woman gives you a knowing smile and you connect the dots as to what she's referring to.

"You want him to feel better? Take him to dinner and then give him a night to remember with those pretty nails. Works every time with my husband." She says with a mischievous smile.

Your eyes widen for a second, "Oh my- I- we haven't had time to do anything because our little girl requires most of our time, but she's with her grandparents for the weekend."

The nail lady giggles as she goes to find your color. "Honey, if that's not a sign to get laid then I don't know what is!"

When your appointment is over you see the cadillac waiting for you in the parking lot. Kiyoomi doesn't even bother to look up when you enter the car.

"Got your favorite color." You purr with a seductive smile on your face. Kiyoomi doesn't spare you a glance, "Cool."

"Stop being so mean, I'm sorry about brunch. I made a reservation for dinner." That finally baits his attention, he turns to you, a nasty look in his eyes.

"Oh I actually think I'm going to be busy, can't go to dinner." He mocks your voice to make you feel what he had felt earlier. He's being mean, but he doesn't mean it. He still kind of has this habit of getting defensive when he or his pride is hurt.

"Too busy to get a blowjob in the car after dinner?" You know you've got him when he stops breathing for a few seconds. Your husband is only a man, and what kind of man would he be to deny a blowjob from his wife?

"Shit, should have started with that. Let me see your nails." The whole time he inspects your pretty hands there's a smirk on your face.

"I love this color on you baby."

"I know you do Kiyo. Now, let's get home, we have to get ready for dinner tonight."

Having your daughter stay with her grandparents for the weekend was the best decision you guys have made in a while.

❥ 𝐇. 𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈

Hajime has been ignoring you for the past two hours and you can't figure out why.

You know you haven't done anything to piss him off recently (or so you think), so his behavior is kind of strange. Nothing you did made him listen to you either.

He doesn't even let you know he's leaving for work, which reminds you of yesterday. You were so excited to go see your cousin's puppy you'd forgotten to tell your boyfriend you'd be out for awhile.

Suddenly while you're tidying up the kitchen you briefly remember him asking you on a date... yesterday.

That's probably why he's ignoring you.

So of course, being the problem solver you are, you head to the store to get stuff to set up a nice date at home.

You decorate the table with pretty rose petals and cook his favorite meal for him. Candles light up the table and two glasses of wine are set on the table.

Hajime lets out a loud groan as he enters the house, working with a bunch of athletes all the time is quite tiring. What he doesn't expect is the dimmed lights and quiet music playing from the alexa in the kitchen.

For the first time today he talks to you, "What's all this?"

"An apology for forgetting our date last night. I set up an at home date for us." He tries and fails to look upset, still.

"I'm glad you remembered," he pauses, "the day after our date." A snort leaves his lips and you roll your eyes.

"At least I remembered. Hurry up and put your stuff up so we can eat. The food is gonna get cold."

It's safe to say he forgives with the way a lopsided grin adorns his face.

divider: @/chachachannah

[tkaulitzlvr]

REGRET - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when a video of tom getting a little too close to another girl circulates around the internet, your confrontation sparks a heated argument between the two of you. but after tom says something in the heat of the moment, he is determined to make it up to you.

content: angst

a/n: i have risen from the dead🎀 i’m really rusty so if it‘s not up to scratch i’m sorry, ill post about why i’ve not been writing later but for now enjoy whatever this is🗣️

my eyes are glued to the small computer screen in front of me, face twisting in disgust just a little more every time the low quality video replays. it is almost nauseating, yet i can’t turn away, fixated until my features are scrunched up in an agitating mix of anger and confusion. i am hoping that the events will change the next time the video restarts, that maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but as the same scene plays out in front of me, i quickly realise that it is real, and that my worst nightmare is coming true. not much can be distinguished - whoever had taken the video clearly hadn't payed much attention to keeping their camera still, or investing in the most high-tech gear, but i can tell that it is him. his dirty blonde dreads fall just below his shoulders, hand clutching a drink, surrounded by a crowd of girls whilst flashing lights illuminate his figure every few seconds, lighting up the bustling club before returning it to darkness. he knows that he is the centre of attention, but that doesn't seem to matter to him, his focus on the small blonde to his right.

much to my frustration, the video is only a few seconds long, showing tom leaning into the girl's ear, whispering something before pulling back, a smirk etched upon both their faces. it quickly cuts off just as his hand brushes along her arm, leaving much to be imagined - far too much. though this is probably for the best, watching another second of my boyfriend touching another girl would probably drive me close to insane - if i haven't already reached that point. i can't tell when the video was taken, but it is clearly recent, most likely from one of his tour after parties. he had arrived home last week, and i had been naive enough to miss him - until now.

i hurriedly rush to turn the computer off, sure that i will throw up if i have to watch that video one more time, its existence torture for me as i question how to go about this. tom is totally oblivious, having left for the studio this morning. however as each second passes, i realise that he will be home any minute, long before the anger that courses through my veins has any chance of burning out. my jaw is clenched, breathing heavy and eyes bloodshot as they fight tears, focusing on the blank wall ahead in an attempt to hold them back. the silence is peaceful, an almost laughable contrast to the chaos that echoes within my mind, thousands of unanswered questions racing through it as i am just about ready to pack my bags and never come back, sure that i have seen enough - and the only explanation is that tom has cheated on me.

but when the front door opens, i am trapped, any plans of escaping now far out of reach as tom's soft voice sounds from downstairs.

"baby? i'm home, where are you?" he almost sounds excited to see me, and on any other day, my heart would melt. but today, it twists with dread, feeling as if it has been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. i stay put, maybe because i know the capabilities of my mind, and its tendency to place me in uncomfortable situations, or perhaps it is the nagging in my chest convincing me to delay any conversation with him for as long as is physically possible.

the realisation that i can't avoid him forever comes much faster than i had anticipated. the dull thud of his footsteps trudging up the stairs are enough to capture my attention and pull me out of whatever trance i am subject to. my back falls back against the bed, shoulders slacking with the intent of looking as relaxed as possible, even if the current situation is the exact opposite. i wince when his presence makes itself known, attempting to conceal the uneasy look settling across my face.

"schatz, there you are." there’s no ill intent in his voice. infact it is sickly sweet, laced with an all-too innocent sense of security that on any other day would gravitate me towards him. this part of his day, when he would trudge into bed tiredly, was reserved just for me, for us, and it was something that we both looked forward to. but now it has fizzled out on my end, an excruciating discomfort habituating in its place, becoming harder to ignore with each passing second. the seemingly rigid walls into tom’s heart visibly crumble as he lets his guard down, his tired frame sinking into the soft mattress.

he leans his head against my arm, the limb tensing slightly in response to his touch. it feels wrong. how many other women felt him this close? the thought alone brings a sharp stab to my chest, its non-existent blade twisting within at the almost sickening idea of the same hands touching anybody else. with difficulty, i lift my arm up, heaving it to rest loosely across my torso. from the rigidness of my movement, tom senses that something isn’t right. whether it be impulse or a craving to feel me against him, he readjusts himself, grasping at any opportunity to weave himself even closer, my stiff demeanour offering him the upper hand.

the concept of control seems completely out of grasp now. although unaware, tom tears every remnant of serenity from my still frame, forcing me to follow his gaze and finally look into those eyes. his lips tug into a soft smile at the eye contact, pointer finger aimlessly grazing my lips. though emotionless, he appears to miss the look on my face, far too occupied with his own desires, no matter how light-hearted they seem.

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he mumbles against me, but when i dodge the kiss that he tries to place on my cheek, he finally pulls himself out of his selfish trance and realises that things aren’t as perfect as he had thought.

"hey, give me a kiss." his voice boarders the waters of hurt and confused, eyebrow furrowed with his eyes scanning my own desperately. when i don’t respond, he misjudges my silence for compliance, leaning downward to plant a soft kiss onto my lips. i don't reciprocate, remaining motionless, eyes wide open as he wraps his arms around me. he presses his lips harsher onto mine, desperation the clear motivator of his hurried movements. it quickly fades into concern when he realises the still lips that his own try to move against. breaking apart and surrendering his desire, he finally captures the hurt etched upon my expression, eyes trailing off into the blank wall behind him. he remains on top of me, his hand reaching to cup my cheek gently, the touch providing the exact opposite of consolation - instead allowing the bitter taste of resentment to settle along my tastebuds in place of his tender kiss. another woman felt those hands against her.

"look at me. what's wrong? did i do something?" his eyes scan mine desperately, feverishly attempting to fathom reasoning for my sudden standoffishness, all whilst his thumb rubs slow and soft circles along my cheek, an action which doesn't go unnoticed.

"did you think i wouldn't find out?" my jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as i finally push his body away. his confusion only intensifies as he collects himself as quickly as he can, scrambling to stand up and reduce our distance once again. his figure towers over mine, clearly failing to grasp the hint that i practically throw at him. if my actions aren’t able to spell it out for him, my words make what i want crystal clear.

“don’t touch me.”

though subtle, i notice the way he winces at my words, choosing to let them go for the time being. "what? baby what are you talking about? find out about what?" his chest rises up and down, expression totally readable, so much that i can sense his every thought, and it is terrifying. each second of silence thickens the already heavy air, so much that a heaviness begins to set in my chest.

i say nothing, instead walking toward the computer and switching it on. the screen lights up, the all too familiar video resuming from the point that i had left it. i grit my teeth, tempted to punch the screen and tom, both ideas becoming increasingly appealing. i turn to face him, remaining calm in spite of all brutal urges screaming out from within me, deciding to put them to bed.

"see for yourself. i'm sure you'd love a reminder of your little fling. she's very pretty, i'll give you that." his mouth opens to say something, quickly shutting with the realisation that he doesn’t have any words - none that would make the situation any better, anyway.

"shit, the paparazzi." he mumbles under his breath, massaging his temples a couple times before shutting the computer off, his eyes darkened as an unrecognisable look takes over. “schatz that isn't what it looks like, i promise you-"

"really? so i haven't just witnessed by boyfriend cheat on me with some blonde whore? you tell me you missed me? you seem to have got on swell without me.” my instinctive sarcasm soon burns out, replaced with an unexpected sadness, one that makes it next to impossible to remain composed.

"jesus christ. i wouldn't ever cheat on you. i don't even know who she is, georg said that he knew her so we let her hang out with us for the night. nothing happened, nothing at all. i love you and only you." he begins to get more defensive, voice raising slightly as he tries once again to move closer to me, an effort that even he knows is futile.

"what so you whisper in everyone's ear like that? you touch everyone's arm like that? you smile at everyone like that? i’m not as stupid as the whores you take to bed.” his excuses are almost laughable, and if my heart didn't feel so heavy with the realisation that he hasn't stayed faithful, i would probably laugh. my composure is deceptive, this soon coming to light with the coming of tears along my waterline.

"no, baby, please don't cry." he starts, protective instincts taking over in spit of the situation, his own eyes becoming glassy. when i shoot him a glare he knows to step back, though it is clear he wants nothing more than consoling me, as he usually would. now it is different, when he is the fuse that ignites this entirely fucked up situations "look, that's the only time i spoke to her the whole night. we were making a joke about georg, that's all."

"you must be kidding." my brows raise, searching his eyes for any hint of amusement, quickly understanding that he is being completely serious, this realisation only angering me more. “you know what? i’m leaving.” i attempt to move past him, struggling to progress even a few steps forward when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. he is far too strong for me to put up a proper fight, but that doesn't stop me from trying my body tenses as i pull back, his grip only tightening, proving my efforts as worthless.

"can you just listen to me? i get that it looks bad but you're really overreacting here. Ive told you that nothing happened, why can't you just trust me?" he is no longer sympathetic. instead, his voice holds an anger within it that takes me aback slightly, his change in persona almost frightening. though his sudden defensiveness only alerts my suspicions more, silently reaffirming the fact that he has cheated, even if his words tell otherwise.

"trust you? fucking trust you? i have trusted you! and look where its gotten me. do you know how hard it is to have your boyfriend leave for months? no contact besides from a ten minute call every day, not a kiss, a hug, nothing! and this is what i see from your tour. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?" i raise my voice, its harshness mirroring tom's as i finally manage to writhe myself out of his grip, now standing a few feet away from him. he clenches his jaw, looking to the side as silence takes over, its presence only brief however, soon destroyed by the sound of his voice, far louder than it had been through the course of the argument.

"i'm sorry that i don't have a normal career, okay? i've told you so many times that i don't have eyes for anyone else. every single night on tour i go back to the hotel early, because i miss you! and you can't even trust me!" he stops suddenly, almost as if he is contemplating his next words, enduring a silent battle between his mouth and his heart, knowing that both are leading him in different directions. i wait for his response, noticing the way that his expression darkens, eyes refusing to meet my own.

"well? that's all you have to fucking say? you seemed pretty comfortable with her. do you know how much that hurts? why am i not good enough for you?"

"stop it. you know you're good enough for me. don't say shit like that." he is quick to cut me off, his voice laced with disbelief, clearly failing to understand how i could come to such a conclusion.

"do i? seeing shit like that pretty much reminds me why i'm not-"

"look, maybe if you weren't such an insecure bitch then this wouldn't be a problem!" my face drops, lips parting slightly as i pray that my ears deceive me, creating their own truth, one distorted and far from reality. i stay silent, far too astounded to produce any witty comeback, or even look into his eyes. the silence between us is louder than any words spoken, and even more painful than those left unsaid. when i quickly take a glance at him, he realises his mistake just as fast as he had spoken. regret flashes across his face, his expression softening as he walks toward me. i nod slowly, far too defeated to argue back, wrapping my arms around my small frame and walking past him, my entire body shaking slightly as i sob.

"fuck- i didn't mean that. i'm so sorry, god i'm sorry baby." he spews out incoherent apologies, though i am far too hurt to comprehend them, instead tuning them out as i walk out of the room, closing the door harshly behind me.

it doesn’t take long for him to follow, his hurried pleas sounding from behind me. i am far too angry to listen, rushing down the stairs and into the hallway, scrambling for the nearest pair of shoes that i can find. his rambling quickly turns from frantic to desperate when he picks up on the reality of the situation, soon understanding that we are far beyond a kiss and an apology to resolve this.

“wait, hold on schatz. can we please talk about this? don’t leave me, please. i love you so much.” he tries to conceal the small sob that escapes his lips, but i notice it, the almost inaudible sound enough to make me reconsider my choices. but when his arm wraps around my wrist, though not with enough pressure to hurt, i know that forgiving him would be stupid.

“let go of me. i’m leaving for a while. do whatever you want, i don’t care.” my voice is surprisingly calm, the coarseness within it somehow washing away with each shallow breath i take. but the softness of my tone doesn’t match the strength of my movements as i yank myself from his grasp, reaching for my keys and clutching the door handle before he can stop me. i hesitate for a moment, taking a second to look back at him as he continues to spew out his apologies, mixed with incoherent promises that he loves me, along with his own tears that begin to fall from his eyes.

“bye tom.”

please come home, i’m so sorry - 8:35pm

baby? - 8:35pm

i love you so much - 8:36pm

i promise i didn’t cheat - 8:36pm

can we talk about this? - 8:37pm

please tell me you’re safe - 8:39pm

sure, tom and i had arguments just as every couple did. but when i showed up at my best friend’s house, makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot, she knew that this one was more than just a disagreement on who’s turn it was to make dinner. it was obvious that she had questions, but my delirious state was enough of a motive to save those for another time, instead choosing to rush me inside and wrap me up in blankets on her small couch, insisting that we order takeout and watch movies until i calmed down.

“he’s still texting you?” she questions, referring to my phone vibrating yet again, as it had been for the past hour. i nod my head weakly, body sprawled across her couch, shuffling over to make room for the small brunette beside me. she offers a sympathetic smile, handing me a pint of ice cream and sinking into the cushions.

“i’m sorry.” she says, reaching over and pulling me into a hug, noticing the glassy sheet that forms over my eyes, squeezing me even tighter. “boys are assholes.”

i nod in agreement, hearing my phone vibrate once again, this time not even taking the time to look at the message. they had gotten pretty predictable as they became more frequent - either telling me that he loves me, or that he wants me to come home.

“you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?” she fills in the silence, recognising that all i need is consolation right now, creating a conversation not on the top of my list of priorities. i mutter a small thank you, feeling my eyes becoming heavy.

the beginning of a new day somehow intensifies the feeling within the pit of my stomach, the exact opposite of what i expected from a fresh start. now that i have settled down, the reality of it all feels like a fresh wound, one that i can’t envision myself ever healing from. though any time to endeavour into the complex puzzle of my emotions is drowned out by the all too familiar sound of my phone vibrating, and this time i have lost every ounce of self-control, reaching over to the small device embarrassingly fast. the bright light emitting from the screen causes my eyes to squint as i adjust, vision slowly clearing to reveal at least a hundred unread text messages, each one from tom. my sympathetic nature gets the better of me, a wave of guilt taking over as his messages spring from concerned, to apologetic, to borderline insane at my disappearance. i groan internally, quickly realising that i can’t hide forever, no matter how much i convince myself that it is the safer option.

luckily the task of getting myself ready to go back home isn’t a particularly long one. my jeans begin to dig into my sides, a rather unpleasant yet convenient reminder that i am still wearing the same clothes as the day before. quiet snores from the bedroom alert me to sleeping body of my friend, a small chuckle leaving my lips at the sound. i decide against disturbing her, instead scribbling a messy note and sticking it on the fridge, hoping that she’ll understand.

- going back home, thank you for all ur help. i’ll keep you updated, love you

the house is silent as i enter it, the lack of noise almost eerie though short lived when i place my keys on the table, the metal clattering with a small thud. there is no sign of tom, not even the sound of a tv from the living room, or the quiet sizzle of fresh food, indicating that he is making breakfast as he would every morning. though it seems that i hadn’t entered as quietly as i had hoped, the sound of tom’s steps, quick and erratic, echoing from the kitchen, getting louder and louder until he is standing in front of me.

our distance is temporary, quickly diminished as he takes me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine with as much strength as he can muster. i only realise just how anxious he has been when his palms cup my cheeks. they are shaking, the skin cold against my own as his entire body begins to tremble, my stomach sinking. he is crying. in spite of his vulnerability, he is the first to pull away, firmly wrapping his arms around my frame and hugging me tightly.

“god i love you, i love you so much. i thought you weren’t coming back.” he struggles to get his words out, a mixture of incoherent sobs and quiet sniffles accompanying his speech. his grip only tightens, hands running up and down my back as he repeatedly kisses my hair, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. my arms remain firmly by my side, sympathetic enough to allow him this small touch, yet no where near as forgiving to consider returning the act.

“are you okay?” he becomes worried, putting his emotions aside and finally separating his body from mine. his calloused fingers run over the smooth skin of my arms, looking for any sign of harm. even though he knows me well enough to guess that i had gone somewhere safe, his protective instincts kick in, convincing him that the worst has happened.

“i’m fine.” i mumble, releasing myself from his grip and walking into the kitchen, taking a glass and pouring myself some water, my throat dry from the strain on my voice from the night before. he quickly follows behind, taking my hand in his. he notices my hesitation, running a thumb over the back of my hand in an attempt to soothe me, and somehow, it works. seeing him in front of me brings back memories of last night, their sting still painful and effects strong with the irritating onset of tears. tom sees this just as fast as i do, reaching upward to wipe them before they are able to fall.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry beautiful.” he whispers, his touch so gentle i almost don’t feel it. he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing just below my eyes, damp with evidence of my upset.

“how could you?” i mumble, voice barely above a whisper as i struggle to make eye contact, tom’s own gaze pained. his eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and blotchy and entire body still trembling slightly. his face softens at my question, and silence takes over for a few moments.

“i know. i know how it looks. i shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, not when i have you. but i promise you that i didn’t cheat. you’re everything i want and i’d be an idiot to throw that away. you have to believe me baby.” his voice begins to break, thumb running across my cheek and eyes staring into mine, scanning desperately for any sign that i am convinced. it isn’t the most detailed nor thought out explanation, but i know him enough to see that he is telling the truth.

“okay.” i nod my head and look to the floor, swallowing harshly in an attempt to calm my shallow breathing. his fingers come underneath my chin, gently pulling it upward so that i am facing him again. the pain is still there, regret etched upon his expression as seeing the woman he loves in such a state hurts him just as much as me leaving. he takes me in his arms, lifting me up and gently kissing me again. this time i reciprocate, a small sob leaving his lips as he recognises this, his hold on me only getting tighter. the previous lack of contact had affected more than i had realised, the small reassurance of my kiss enough to crumble his usually calm temperament.

“i love you.” he whispers against me, his lips bitter with the taste of tears. that doesn’t matter to me. pressing my mouth to his as harshly as i can, my arms wrap around his neck, bringing him in even closer. he holds me so tightly, like i may slip away, the fear of losing me all too real. my small hands cup his cheeks, attempting to deepen the kiss, though doing so unsuccessfully as his voice vibrates against me. he sounds broken, his request coming out as a desperate plea, cut off by a short sob. “please say it back. you haven’t this whole time and i-”

“i love you too.” i mumble against his lips. he holds me even tighter, something which i didn’t think was possible. but considering the realms of possibility is an activity for another day. i have no time to consider anything as he kisses me once again, his touch addictive, and more than enough to make me forget everything.

[khuzena]

Waiting room

Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader

Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.

Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?

A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳

Dr ratio

He's a simple man, really.

Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.

Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.

Is what you initially thought.

It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”

He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.

Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”

Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.

“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”

He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”

Insane?

“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did.”

He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”

Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.

He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.

“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.

Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.

Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?

“Veritas.”

You call out once.

“Veritas!”

Again, in anger.

“Veritas”

The last time, desperately.

He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”

You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”

“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”

“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”

Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.

For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.

He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.

Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.

“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.

You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”

“Which one?”

“None of your business.”

Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.

“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”

That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.

“You are more childish.”

“How so?”

“You— do I even have to explain it?”

Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.

“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.

He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”

“I'm tired of asking”

Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.

He stays quiet.

“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”

“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.

The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”

“What?”

“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”

It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.

He does not answer.

“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.

So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.

Aventurine

He loves you, he really does.

His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.

Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.

It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?

“Darling! I got you a gift!”

The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.

You look like a doll, his doll.

But you are not a doll, you are human.

And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.

“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.

“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”

“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.

You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.

You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.

“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”

Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.

“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”

It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?

He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.

“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?

You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”

”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.

“You said that too last month,” you scoff.

He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”

There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.

”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”

You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.

You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.

”Okay”

You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.

Sunday

Love, what truly is love?

Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?

Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?

or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?

Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.

Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.

Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.

The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.

He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.

Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.

To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.

You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.

But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.

He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.

”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.

You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”

”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.

“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.

He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”

”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.

He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”

Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.

“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”

”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”

He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?

There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”

What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."

Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."

Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."

When will you stop acting like a child?

The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.

His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.

"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."

You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.

His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.

You are still here with him.

He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."

"You'll never leave me too."

It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.

You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.

On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.

Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[666writingcafe]

Top Secret!!!!!

A Group Chat Involving Everyone but MC and Luke

Solomon: It's nearly time for me to give MC their preliminary exam. How many stars is MC up to?

Mammon: you serious, bro????

Mammon: you haven't kept track of mc's stars????

Mammon: old man alert

Satan: Four.

Solomon: Thank you, Satan. What other three virtues have been rewarded?

Diavolo: Gratitude from me.

Simeon: Patience from me and generosity from Luke.

Solomon: So, chastity, diligence, and humility remain. I was thinking of having us play Tail Thieves.

Asmo: I love you, Solomon, but no.

Solomon: What's wrong with Tail Thieves?

Asmo: One, it's a childish game.

Lucifer: ^

Asmo: Two, do you not remember how MC behaved the last time you tested them? They were BORED OUT OF THEIR MIND, and it impacted their performance as a result.

Beel: That's true.

Asmo: Any twists you come up with are going to be too predictable.

Solomon: *glaring crow sticker*

Solomon: I'm SURE you have a better idea.

Asmo: I do, actually.

Asmo: It involves testing their chastity.

Solomon: Go on...

Asmo: We'll seduce them.

Mammon: that's a stupid idea!!!!

Levi: youre just saying that because youre jealous

Belphie: *laughing emoji*

Beel: *gif of someone doing a spit-take*

Asmo: I'm being serious.

Asmo: During their last stay in the Devildom, I managed to charm them, which gained me access to their deepest desires.

Asmo: They have fantasies involving all of us. Tempting them with those will be the ultimate test of their chastity. If they're able to resist, then they earn the star.

Lucifer: That's actually a well thought-out idea.

Barbatos: ^

Diavolo: ^^

Solomon: *glaring crow sticker*

Solomon: Fine.

Solomon: Who's participating?

Levi: mammon and i are out

Mammon: speak for yourself!!!! the fuck???

Levi: if this is meant to really test mc then everyone has to commit to the bit and you and i both know that youd tap out the minute mc looks at you sideways

Mammon: *glaring crow sticker*

Levi: while ive gained some confidence i still wouldnt be able to maintain my composure long enough to complete something like this

Asmo: I will provide the necessary information, but I myself will not be seducing MC, as much as it pains me to say.

Satan: Of course it would pain you to say that.

Asmo: *eye roll emoji*

Solomon: Do you want to judge with me?

Asmo: I mean, I kinda figured we would, so...

Barbatos: My participation will depend on what I'm meant to reenact.

Asmo: Are you afraid it would conflict with your duties?

Barbatos: Yes.

Diavolo: Well, if you're worried about me stopping you, don't. It wouldn't be fair of me to expect you to sit this out if I'm planning on participating.

Mammon: WHAT??????

Levi: bro

Levi: he literally jumped out a castle window to be with mc

Levi: he's THIRSTY

Belphie: Unfortunately.

Asmo: Not to be the bossy brother, but Lucifer, you aren't allowed to back out.

Lucifer: Wasn't planning on it. I know where I stand in MC's mind.

Satan: You know, I think I might chill with Mammon and Levi. I thought about joining in the fun, but I don't think I have it in me to see things through.

Satan: And before anyone chimes in, no, it's not because Lucifer confirmed his participation.

Belphie: We know. If it was, you'd be trying to one-up him.

Satan: Thank you, Belphie. I TOTALLY wanted that out there. *eye roll emoji*

Beel: I'm in.

Belphie: Quick question: would it be fair of me to participate?

Asmo: Actually, you'd be PERFECT for this. You can argue that you know MC more intimately than ANY of us. You'd know what buttons to push to make them really sweat.

Belphie: Okay, cool. I'll do it, then.

Simeon: Me too.

Levi: lol what

Mammon: ayo, do you even KNOW how to seduce someone, simeon?

Simeon: How do you think I'm able to write some of the scenes in TSL?

Levi: well okay then

Solomon: So, to confirm: Lucifer, Beel, Belphie, Diavolo, and Simeon are definite participants, Barbatos is a maybe, and Mammon, Levi, and Satan are sitting this out?

Nine people liked Solomon's message.

Mammon: the three of us can keep an eye on luke. we can either help him run the cafe or take him out someplace fun.

Levi: you know you seem awfully chummy towards luke lately

Mammon: we bonded during our fairy hunt.

Asmo: Then that settles it. Solomon and I will meet with the volunteers for further discussion.

[little-sleepy-owl]

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.

this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.

oh? so, you're just like him.

the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?

though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.

but… becoming your first?

“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”

it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.

that's a first for him too, after all.

give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.

a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!

hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)

now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.

he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.

you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.

you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.

none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.

judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.

inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.

(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)

he needs to talk things out first.

“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”

the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.

he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.

his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.

and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.

he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?

jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.

he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.

you never saw this, either.

he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.

“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–

you don't want to continue this thought right now.

he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.

he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.

his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.

he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.

he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.

he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.

but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.

that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.

if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.

expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.

he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.

it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.

humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.

but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.

set some boundaries and you'll be alright.

once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.

will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.

he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (3)

Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe

Y/N POV

You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.

"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.

"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.

"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.

"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.

You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.

"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.

"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.

"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".

You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.

"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.

"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.

"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".

"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.

"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.

"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.

Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".

Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.

"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".

Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.

Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."

"Mor?" you asked.

"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.

"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".

Azriel smiled. "Now".

Azriel's POV

After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.

"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.

"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.

"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.

"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.

-

It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.

"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".

"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.

"Are you ok?", he asked.

"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.

"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.

"What for?".

"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".

"You're daft".

Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.

"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".

Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.

"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.

"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Y/N's POV

I think I would like that.

WHAT.

You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.

Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.

-

A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.

“Come in”, you called.

Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.

“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.

“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.

“You ready?”, he asked.

“Ready”.

[miffydollie]

⠀⠀⺀　　˚　　༝　　◌　　⌒⌒　　୨୧　　꒱

➳ open message from @miffydollie !!

dear lovely reader,

rockstar yunjin & nerdy fem reader ೃ࿐

rating : 18 +

warnings : mentions of moaning , calling yunjin mommy , please tell me if there's more !!

authors note : this is a old story i found in my notes .. so sorry that i couldn't write a proper story ! anyways, i hope you like this !!

click 'read more' to read this story . .

: sleepless nights - huh yunjin .𖥔 ݁ ˖

you were meant to be asleep hours ago, but your classmate yunjin had different plans.

yunjin always stayed in her dorm playing guitar. every night, every day. you could never fall asleep because of her. the moment you close your eyes, you hear the sound of an electric guitar playing in the room next to you, and you have to witness this every single day. and to you, it's getting a bit annoying. (sorry jen) not even just a bit, but A LOT. so this time, you decide to shut her up.

you knock on yunjin's door, waiting there annoyed. but, it doesn't take a while for someone to answer it.

'what do you want, y/n?' she says in an annoyed tone. you give her a dirty look, and you instantly reply. 'yunjin.. i'm sick of your stupid guitar playing every single night and it is SO annoying.' you state sternly, giving her a death stare now. 'jeez, calm down.' yunjin scoffs, 'and don't call me yunjin. call me jennifer, because you're not a stranger to me. but, you can moan mommy in bed and i won't really care..'

'what the.. moan? mommy?' you thought. you needed a quick and short reply and you had the perfect one.

'shut up.' you argued, 'can you just please lower your stupid guitar down? i haven't slept in about a week because of you, or even longer.'

'mmm.. fine. but only on one condition.' the red-head replied back, giggling afterwards.

'what is it..'

'you'll find out. later.'

'you're such a bitch, jennifer' you groan.

thursday, 4:20am read on your clock.

knock knock. who's that? you quickly go to answer the door, and you find yunjin standing there.

'it's you, isn't it.' you complained, trying to close the door on her.

'yeah, it is.' 'but this is what i want, and you promised me that you would do it, no matter what.'

'oh my gosh fine..' you hissed, and let her into your dorm.

@ miffydollie © 2024 | do not copy, repost or translate any of the works without author's extensive permission

dt : my princess lala < 3 ( @cheriewony )

part two here !!

tags :

[llyfrenfys]

In which I try not to be That Guy TM when it comes to Irish ancestors: An exploration of ancestry, diaspora and culture

Because of The Horrors TM in my life atm I've been looking into my biological family tree. I'm adopted but estranged from my adoptive family and I never met my biological family since I was adopted just short of my 2nd birthday. I've been tracing my ancestry for about 3 years now and it's genuinely quite stress relieving to me. It's also fun and challenging from a research standpoint - putting together my own family tree gave me the skills to write articles like this one I wrote in 2022 about historical Welsh queer people, for example.

Lately, I've been finding out more about my Irish ancestors while an adoptee (and thus not knowing any of my biological family) - but also doing this as a Celticist and tired of people doing the 'my sister's friend's cousin's father's mother was Irish' thing. This has created an almost unbearable tension between curiosity at my own ancestry while trying not to be That Guy who finds out about one (1) Irish ancestor hundreds of years ago and is weird about it.

Especially since mine are quite distant ancestors - my great, great, great grandparents were born in Dublin and in a tiny village in County Down called Dunnaman (near Kilkeel). However, they were Irish Catholics and emigrated to Liverpool in the 1870s - all of their subsequent children and grandchildren were born in Liverpool and all of the above + great grandchildren were raised Catholic - including my grandmother (who died before I was born). So there was an obvious attempt to maintain that heritage. There's even evidence my great, great, great grandmother at least spoke Irish (which, as she was born in County Down, would have been Ulster Irish).

The problems with uncritically throwing oneself at an ancestor's nationality:

Now, not all North Americans of Irish (or Welsh, Scottish, Italian, Scandinavian, German etc.) descent do this - but there's a very vocal set of North Americans of Irish descent who find awe and interest in their ancestry - which is actually quite a positive thing! - however, due to either temporal or cultural disconnect, they may end up doing or saying things (and not necessarily with bad intentions) which can have a negative impact on the Irish and the Irish language (or [nationality] and [language(s) associated with that nationality].

I'm reminded of the time an American commented on a Welsh language rights post I made in support of Welsh speakers, but they accidentally ended up using a white nationalist slogan by mistake. It can be a minefield - and with regards to Ireland specifically, mistakes like that can be so much worse. To literally give my own (mild) example, today I decided to relearn Irish (since I haven't spoken any in years since being taught basics at undergrad) and picked up a blank notebook I bought at Tesco the other week, while completely forgetting the inside cover of the notebook was orange. I was planning on decorating the notebook anyway and painted it a different colour. While I know that nobody would really hold it against me if I didn't change the colour, I just know that walking around with an orange notebook filled with Irish I'm relearning because of interest in my Catholic ancestors could be a confusing set of messages, at the very least. If you don't understand why this is, look up the meanings of the colours on the flag of Ireland.

Which is to say, even those of us in Northern Europe who have significantly greater physical proximity to Ireland than North America (and therefore should know better) still can and do get things wrong. And not just benignly wrong like in my case.

The tendency for some North Americans of Irish descent (Canada isn't exempt from this) to conflate Irish ancestry with a contemporary connection to the modern countries located on the island of Ireland as a whole can have results ranging from 'a bit weird' to 'jesus fucking christ'. As a Celticist, I've seen far, far too many Americans of Irish descent try to weigh in on modern Irish politics without any background knowledge or tact at all - and naturally they stake their claim on modern Irish politics entirely on the premise of having distant Irish ancestors. Or, even worse, things start to get all phrenological.

'Irish blood' and the nonexistence thereof:

'Irish blood' is continually evoked by some to validate their sense of 'Irishness' and the obsession with '[insert nationality] blood' is a distinctly North American phenomenon- likely related to or an offshoot of the concept of 'blood quantum', in which enrolment into some Native American nations and tribes is determined by how much 'Native blood' a person has. Notably, many people who would ostensibly have been described under this system as 'full blood' were registered by the US as 'half blood'. This is a method of genocide intended to wipe out tribes and nations by imposing strict measures of who does or does not qualify to enrol into a tribe or nation. This concept seems to have been extrapolated over time (in a North American context at least) into the idea of descent from other nationalities' being measured in a similar or adjacent way. This is how you end up with some North Americans declaring they are '1/8 Italian and 1/4 Irish' on their dad's side etc. While in Europe (where these nationalities hail from, crucially) this practice is seen as a really weird way to describe your ancestry. In general, it's simply 'my 4 times grandfather came from Spain' or 'my great great grandfather on my dad's side came from Finland' etc. if it comes up at all. For various political reasons, many Europeans with descent from multiple other European nationalities may choose to omit to mention descent from certain nationalities, especially if in recent history there has been conflict between their birth nation and an ancestor's nation. The most famous example of this is literally the British royal family changing their surname from the German Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to the more 'British sounding' Windsor in 1917 due to the onset of the First World War.

Where it gets really weird (and also very offensive and rude) is when cultural stereotypes get invoked alongside the whole 'blood' thing in usually quite damaging and/or disparaging ways. I've seen way too many North Americans of Irish descent claim they're alcoholics because they have 'Irish blood' or even worse, claim it's normal to domestically abuse their spouses because of it!! (Genuine thing I have seen btw). Same goes for claiming to be a naturally good chef because of 'Italian blood' and so on. As a general rule, people from the place where your ancestors were from don't generally like to be inherently be considered drunks or prone to violence due to their nationality. Or have weird and inaccurate idealisms projected onto their language or cuisine.

Aren't there any positives?

It wouldn't be fair to make a post like this without mentioning some of the positives that can come from interest in an Irish ancestor. Like I mentioned at the start of this post, I myself felt inspired to relearn Irish because of my own Irish ancestors. I was taught the Connacht dialect at undergrad, however, since my ancestor was from County Down, I'm going to try and learn Ulster Irish instead. One doesn't need Irish ancestors to learn Irish of course - when I learned I wasn't aware I had any Irish ancestors. But being inspired to learn Irish because of an ancestor can't hurt and directly increases the number of Irish speakers in the world (provided you keep at it). This is a net positive for the language as a whole.

Similarly, people who have educated themselves on Irish politics because of their ancestry and genuinely learned something are also a positive thing to come out of discovering Irish ancestors. In my experience, these people are the kind of people I enjoy talking to about being a Celticist because they actively want to learn and respect the cultures being talked about. Which is huge to me!

Conclusion:

As a Welsh speaker whose national identity is more-or-less Jan Morris-esque, my Irish ancestry is an interesting facet of my ancestry I simply didn't know about before. And being an adopted person, I can sympathise with the general sentiment of a lot of white North Americans of feeling disconnected or alienated from any ancestral heritage. The conditions which create That Guy TM as described above rely on that sense of alienation to propagate a very ineffective, tactless and often very insensitive approach to Irish and other European cultures. But the important thing is that that approach can be challenged by people genuinely interested in their ancestry who are also conscientious of the living versions of the cultures their ancestors hailed from.

For me, that means learning Irish in a dialect my ancestors are likely to have spoken. I also visited the library today to check out some books on the Irish emigration to England and the sociopolitical reasons behind that emigration. I know the broad strokes, but the details are desirable to know to get a better idea of the why and how the country of my birth had a hand in creating the conditions which led my ancestors to emigrate in the first place. I think the world would be a better place if people took the time to understand the history and politics of ancestors which don't share their nationality.

As always, reblogs and thoughts are welcomed and encouraged!

Thank you for reading to the end - and if you'd like to support me, please see my pinned post. Diolch!

[yinyuedijun]

okay maybe i’m toxic or didn’t pick up the hints but can you maybe elaborate more on what makes the readers behavior w aventurine manipulative? bc i feel like lwk i would do the same but i didn’t realize it was bad behavior 😭😭😭 like if he was saying stuff in his sleep i didn’t understand i would totally try to translate it 😭😭 and how they know he might not be comfortable w doing some things like teaching them avgin but asking anyway i took it as a bid for connection almost?? IDK im just gobsmacked bc i totally thought i was a healthy secure individual but if this is toxic behavior maybe im not 😭😭

FKDJSAKSHJA I won't lie anon I love getting chonky questions about my fics so thank you for reaching out about your confusion with this particular subject . in your defense I understand why it might be confusing on a first read because it IS fundamentally a story about two lovers wanting connection. the catch is that they are too messed up to actually achieve it in a mutual manner 😞

SADLY I must write an essay about this because I'm unbearable. but before I do I'd like to share screenshots from a couple of my readers (SHOUTOUT TO LEEHI ANON AND MIN !) that explains it succinctly

okay now my unbearable essay

so basically. I think the mc's first weird thing that they did was wanting to know what aventurine was saying in his sleep and not just asking him LMFAOOO instead they fucking went about learning it in a roundabout way, without his permission, and just did not care about his boundaries gkdhdsldhsmsj

but while that is whack dishonest behaviour, the real crux of the manipulation in this dynamic is that the reader gave the impression to aventurine that he would be able to understand them better via language exchange, but they set him up for failure in this regard. from the outset, they had no intention of revealing anything about their inner world to him because they planned to deceive him in their native tongue. on the other hand, through learning aventurine's mother tongue, they are able to access a deeply vulnerable part of him. and they do it without him knowing.

so they use this knowledge of his mother tongue and his weakness to it to manipulate him into treating them better: crying in it to gain his pity (just as they did with their captors) and asking for gestures of affection using his language because they know he can't say no. they can use his first language to control him, but aventurine cannot do the same. it's very one-sided.

but as you said, it's ultimately a bid for connection. and they resort to this behaviour to achieve connection because, put frankly, aventurine has already created a one-sided dynamic where he has killed any potential for true connection. like tl;dr he really does treat them like garbage 😭😭😭 the mc just got kinda tired of that and wanted to girlboss him back so that he'd be actually affectionate to them. though they also just want to find a way to make him happy.

ANYWAY SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG.... thank you for reading my fic . I appreciate you so much!!!!!!

[wazzappp]

ALRIGHT WE BALL. Time to get on with the story (i have a story planned thats. a real shocker. im ass at writing but ill get this drawn damnit I promise)

This argument is one that just needed to happen. Robbie cant think of the infected he's been killing as people because that would mean he has killed a truly UNCOUNTABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE. Lisa has done what she has to in order to survive, and that includes killing the un-infected (which, of course, to Robbie is totally unacceptable). So when he's trying to explain the difference it just comes across JUDGY AS HELL. They're both proud and defensive and bad communicators and the conversation goes BADLY.

This happens while they're on their way to the Beneviento house. Lisa basically goes 'Alright if youre so high and mighty go ahead and beat this one yourself then!' and fucks off back to Duke with the intention to kill as many Lycans in the way as physically possible. Robbie goes ahead to the SPOOKY NIGHTMARE HOUSE trust me I have plans for what he sees in there and its appropriately disturbing but it also spoils the ending I have planned for this whole thing so :) hang in there.

BUT he ends up having a BAD TIME when he's trying to head back and what @rokhal suggested slotted in SO VERY NICE HERE (i feel i have sufficiently LOST MY MIND over the fic you posted i am JKSL:FJSDFDS F UCk)

'Picturing Robbie alone in the Village foraging for gunpowder and cash (because it's a Video Game and they can't just hang out in Donna Benaviento's house throwing the creepy dolls in the river while waiting for rescue after reconnecting the phone lines, no, they have to wander around the entire map) and he's saving the herbs for Gabe and using all the chem fluid for sniper rifle ammo or whatever. And he's fighting off werewolves and it's fine because apparently his health regenerates like mana because he's made of mold.

But as he's wandering around it starts to get harder and harder to remember how much cash and scrap he needs. And he keeps missing shots. And then he gets a little turned around but now he's lost and there's more fkn werewolves, and he's seriously low on ammo and he just wants to get back to Gabe, but he needs to regroup and his hands are numb so he tries to warm them at one of the villager's stoves.

And then he discovers that he's slowly turning into a mindless mold creature, and realizes that the only way to keep Gabe safe from him is to get really really really lost, so lost he'll never find his way back before something kills and eats him.

This does not work, but it does ensure that he is incoherent and barely recognizable by the time Gabe and Lisa track him down.'

Which is all MWAH. CHEFS KISS.

Anyway Robbie is gone for a WHILE and Lisa realizes that the puzzles she needs to solve to move the fuck on require 2 people so she's stuck killing any lycans that stray too close to Dukes camp and hanging out with Gabe. UNTIL, of course, Gabe decides yeah no fuck this fuck that Robbie has been away for WAY to long and I'm going after him. Only problem is that Gabe's abilities are kinda rooted too wherever his sclerotia pods (is adding pods to that redundant? whatever we ball) have had enough time to take root and grow. Meaning, despite her anger towards Robbie at the moment, if Lisa doesen't want Gabe caught, dragged to Mother Miranda and dismembered, she's gotta go with him (also featuring @moosemonstrous hilarious idea of her being proud of Gabe's attempted intimidation).

When they DO track him down he's barely awake. He keeps wandering in one direction then looks like he wants to turn around and go another but he keeps FORCING HIMSELF to go the other way (generally I think he would be a decent bit stronger, but fighting his instincts this hard make him seem more aimless. Robbie is borderline unstoppable when trying to get to his brother, but right now he's NOT trying to get to his brother. you feel me?). Lisa goes up first to make sure he's not going to lose his shit or something. He basically falls onto her with the single saddest "m'sorry" ever heard on planet Earth. If it's for FALLING on her or if its for the CONVERSATION earlier, Lisa isn't quite sure. But it's been years since anyone has apologized to her for anything and thats enough for her to decide she should at least sling him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes back to Dukes camp.

They make it back to the Dukes camp and give Robbie a couple of med kits (GOOP JUICE!!!!!) and he's a little more coherent. He's still trying to stay away from Gabe even though everything in him is saying 'STAY CLOSE' but he's got SOME brain space available because at least he's in line of sight now. Scrambled brain time is not the BEST for trying at an apology but hey, Robbie isn't really known for his great ideas and he tries anyway.

(ft me being unwell about shoving them together)

They're on better terms after this. The communication is still weird but hey its them so everything is weird. Plus they get some extra bonding time because I also snatched rokhals OTHER suggestion of

'....Been thinking maybe The Duke has a recipe that would heal Robbie...requiring meat from a golden dancing fish and the breast of the blue bird that haunts the graveyard and the tenderloin of the magnificent boar that sires all the swine in the Village...or something. So Gabe and Lisa have to go hunting while keeping Robbie calm...'

Ah yes. the high end flesh of the Great Village Fuck Boar. Delightful.

Cause I mean he's BETTER but still not GREAT. I think now that he's with Gabe he would be unable to leave him again while like this. Gabe would HAVE to go with them (we can get >:] 'Robbie goes into an overprotective frenzy and sword hands himself to hack some poor lycan that got too close in half' its a good time [its not. sword hand is very disturbing to him])

So anyway what Im TRYING to say is that the brainworms will continue

[greensagephase]

Update on Nonviolent Communication!

Hi guys, just coming on here to say that part 14 of Nonviolent Communication will be up this week!

I was hoping to update this weekend, but I had a family thing going on (nothing serious, just something that required my time and attention) and that took away some of my writing time.

I was also a little behind with my writing since I was feeling off earlier this month, so I was simply not in a writing mood on top of having other responsibilities to take care of.

This month has just been weird for me but I'm back into writing!! As I mentioned already, I was truly hoping to update this weekend, but at this point, it's Sunday evening, past 9pm, for me and I still have a lot to write despite spending all of yesterday and today writing. Plus, I still have to edit and you guys know my latest chapters have been 20k+ words (chapter 14 is no different - I'm already past 19k words and there's still a lot for me to write 🫣), so editing takes a hot minute for that reason alone, but also because editing is usually where I do my magic ✨

So, I don't want to rush this chapter and sacrifice the writing quality since that's something I always strive for.

Plus, my plans for this chapter changed! I had an outline for this chapter ready, knew how it was going to end, and then it kinda led to something else and now I have a new ending... 🧍🏻‍♀️but I'm more than happy with this ending!!

So, that's the update! Just wanted to let you guys know I haven't forgotten about NC and that I hope to be back on here more this week going into May. Also, thank you for being patient with me! I really appreciate it and I love you guys! I hope you all have a great week!

Update will go up Friday evening, so be ready 🥰

For now, here's a little snippet from Part 14:

Any guesses on what that single word is, or what's their intention? 👀

[kitty-kitty-boomba]

Hi Honey! Welcome home!

omogomgomgomgomg-

AMAB! Sevika x Reader- BUT IN REVERSE

JUST HEAR ME OUT-

Also- this shit is long as hell. Like, I'm actually so sorry. P.S- I ran out of steam after I explain the situation, so respectfully? Writing is a tinie bit trash- But just a little! Also, no rlly proof-read sorryyyy

18+! MDNI

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Sevika and you have been married for four years now- and today would be your anniversary. You were actually celebrating being together for 10 yrs, your argument being that knowing each other as friends still counts. Sevika didn't care so as long as she had you, so she was all gun-ho for whatever you wanted as long as she got her "alone" time with you. Point is, you been planning for this day a lot. Like- for two weeks straight- a lot. Honestly, planning has never been this hard for you. Which is funny, because planning a wedding and the fattest after-party is no joke. For other people, what you were doing is arguably too much. But there is no such thing when it comes to your lil' mamma [i'm srry].

To break it down, you were going to spoil her like she spoils you. And thanks to her Ovulation days starting right in the first two days before the anniversary- you weren't going to have an issue fucking her stupid and taking charge for the night. That was your ultimate goal out of everything- but nobody knew that but you. [lies- Sevika knows. we'll get back to that.]

1st: You would start with Breakfast in bed and kisses. Give a massage if she likes. Really just seduce her, and mayybe give her a baby edible so she's near putty because otherwise, she'd spoil it for herself. After she got her mandatory cuddle session, you'd tell her you have to give your mom something. You'd send her off to hang with the kids a bit before stealing her- promising you wouldn't pass 5 o'clock because duh.

2nd: Literally everything else.

Thankfully, the two weeks was just you trying to see what Sevika wanted as a meal and not you picking out a theme to decorate with. Decoration was easy: Dim lighting via the fancy light switches you had Sevika install years ago, fake rose petals, real roses for the vases, regular candles for the dinning table, and a few vanilla scented candles for the bedroom. [your like for vanilla rubbed off on her. you didn't want kill more roses. you love roses, you like flowers in ur in vases and said vases are empty. you will be too busy fucking, you aren't burning the house down with candles]

Sevika- like the little shit she is- tried her damnedest to distract you from your spoiling mission, because of course she is. She acted all seductive and fucked you anywhere-anytime so you'd forget about whatever you had planned. The only way you got your answer was letting her fuck you until she collapsed. She could barley think straight, and while you weren't any better, you mumbled the ask just for her to say the dish you both have been eyeing for a while. You figured she'd want that, but you still wanted to make sure.

Secretly- at least that's what you thought, we'll get 2 that too- You shopped all the ingredients for it two days before. [You hid it in the Last Drop's fridge for a day before taking it back home. Vander, Silco, and Ran were Angels- Helping you by getting the kids to not mention the weird selection of groceries and keeping Sevika from opening it herself]

You also planned to get the homemade chocolate from her grandma's, Amelia: Yours and Sevika's favorite sweets of all time.

The last thing was dress up, which again, also wasn't hard. Sevika always dressed nice because she knows how much the little things mean to you. It was you who was freaking out on what to wear. You took to your mom, asking to get dressed at her house because you were worried Sevika would find the clothes. You wouldn't be wearing them long, but this was a semi-surprise so you were doing the grand reveal bit. You were torn between a dress like usual, or spicing things up and surprising your wife by matching her style a bit and wearing a suit. Ultimately- your mom silenced your worries by saying that Sevika would love to see you with a tailored suit on. She got you one as her anniversary gift. You just about cried.

3rd: Execute said planned and get fucked. That's it. Your not sure way you wrote that in the list- that's something that's literally impossible to not do with Sevika as your wife... But who cares?

During the planning, you were buttering Sevika up. From high-end Whiskey and Scotch, to flowers and chocolate, you were laying it on thick. You know it takes Sevika a minute to warm up to pampering- even if the minute was just her trying to distract you- so you happily continued and waited until she gave you nothing but a whine when you dissolved her into putty.

On the night before though- you had a mini-break down.

You did a facetime call with Amelia and your mom, out on your balcony trying to stop tearing up and keep your voice down as you voiced how nervous you were. Would the food come out good? Would it even come out at all? Would you burn it- or maybe do something else to mess it up? Could you even decorate and get dressed in time? Did you have to do hair, make up, and clothes before hand to cut down time? What if you sweat it all of or smell like steak! What if-!

They silence you quickly. They're helping you with the little things, so why not a bit more? They don't have nothing important for that day besides sending little gifts with you. So, you all agree to take a job. The food is meant to be cooked closer to when Sevika expected to be home, but if you got nervous, you could cook and Amelia would bud if you needed her and put everything in the oven to keep them fresh until they had to leave. Your mom would help decorate if necessary, and your hair will be the first thing done and pinned up in pin-curls so it would beautiful after you get dressed. Easy peasy- and if not- they'll make it happen for their favorite girl.

That helped more than you could ever say, and you slept real nice that night thanking the powers that the sleep aids you gave Sevika kept her sleepy so she wouldn't spoil anything. Little did you know, they weren't working for you.

Sevika had both them, Vander, Silco, and Ran recruited to keep you thinking you were being slick. She tricked you and picked the dish you wanted almost since the month started because she wanted you to enjoy the meal too- plus, that steak looked freaking amazing in the cookbook picture. The whole resistance to your pampering was Sevika being her beautiful self. She allows tons of things, but that type of love is hard for her to receive. So on top of watching you, she pampered you her own way by loving on you a lot more and giving you cash to spend. You kept saying you don't need it, but that shy smile and the blush blooming all over you was more than enough to keep it coming.

The smug sex-distraction part was improvised at first, because there was no way she could keep her hands off you for more than two seconds. But after it became clear it was working- Who is she to not take advantage?

So, as you planned- she planned.

She'd let you take it away, whatever decore you wanted, and anything else. She felt a bit bad for going behind your back after you spent time trying to make things perfect, so she transferred money into you account everyday and kept saying it was her "early anniversary gift". She didn't hear the conversation, but they called and told her the morning of that you were very excited, aka their way of saying her poor baby is stressed out. She was ready to tell everyone to spill the beans- but after all you've done, she really wanted to treat you.

And treat you she did.

Come the morning of, she lets do your thing, it was hard not too.

But after you do your whole spiel and send her off- both plans go into motion.

She did her everything shower, oiled up, and scented herself to the gods with that smokey, musky, amber/vanilla date-night scent you adore on her. After, she went to The Last Drop. Ran did Sevika's hair, nails [prosthetic too], and makeup, shit-talking and drinking with their best friend to calm her nerves. They even helped attach the new "skin" Sevika made for her arm, The smooth arm-like copper remined them of the one she made for her wedding day, just a bit less ornate. This is the most she's done since her wedding day, and a part of her felt completely ridiculous because she's long since forgotten how getting extra dressy felt. She doesn't understand what's become of her right now, but she feels to giddy to crush her sparking confidence- these red little almond nails looked too good.

She looked too good. If she says so herself.

Silco kept the kids upstairs with cartoon and an excessive amount of Amelia's chocolates- so it was up to Vander and Ran to keep that fire going and have their friend strut her shit for her special day. The eggs are taking over though, because while they give her a pep-talk that woman is thinking of all the positions to get that baby [lil' shit] that you've both wanted desperately [as of two months now].

A once over and Ran sends her off, telling another crappy joke and telling her not to forget to fluff her hair after she takes the rollers out. Sevika had two cups a liquid audacity that was more than enough to have her strutting the streets with her silk scarf covered head and her painted face. Everyone is looking at her in awe- only looking away when they realize that they're not worthy. If you were here with her, you'd stare at whoever even dared to look at her extremely wrong. She laughs to herself at that, causing some to flinch and scurry back to their little corner.

Because she timed it [and cus Amelia told her so], she went home to cook her gal a meal with an extra dessert planned...

She's shocked when the food comes banger and smells absolutely devine. You would love this, you'd be so proud- that's what she muses with, and her cunt certainly agrees if that clench was anything to go by. When she finishes frosting the cake, your mom calls her, letting her know that your dress and on your way. She laugh too herself for a good 2 mins, the idea of you dress up and fighting the steak hilarious to her. Thanking her for the heads-up, Sevika ends the call -covers the cake- and puts on the lace number, her thigh-highs and garter, and the dress.

Yes. A dress.

And fuck did she look smoking.

She did a once-over and applied more lipstick and perfume, before speeding back to the kitchen to grab the fancy bucket Silco gifted her on her wedding day. The champagne and towel looked professional, and she's three steps away from the table to finish setting it-

Then the door jingles.

She's about cumbusts right there on the damn spot [get it? I'm srry again]. Almost tossing the thing on the table and throwing herself to you- but she rehearsed this- she knows what to do.

Fucking focus Sevika Lanes!

You open the door and drop both the keys and chocolate on the little table by the door. She sauntered over so fucking proud, a nervous flash making your diamond nibble her lips before letting go. A sultry tone nearly silence by your horniess.

"Welcome home doll."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes are everywhere. Where can you pick when everything's fucking delicious?

A black get up, there's no color besides a blood red on her lips. A fifties old money heart-throb is what your diamond is. Her hair falling just like that pretty hairstyle you see in the stereotypes, the one with a side part and covering her eye? Yeah. And the short hair was making things extra tempting. You smell her from here, you catch the teardrop pearl earrings and matching necklace you bought her decorating her skin. But that dress. The thing itself is velvet, a deep sweetheart with semi-thin halter strap making those pretty tits even more plush. You make her do a little spin, and it's low cut-out back too, the most sinful thing. The bottom of the dress is a problem. There's a slit, ending right atop her hip, the floor-length skirt making those legs damn delectable in your eyes. Fuck- is she using a garter belt to hold the tights? Oh shit, an actual- fuck- a garter touching your shit. Oh- heels.

You don't know you moved impossibly closer to her until Sevika nervously asks: "Uh- D-doll? Are y-you ok?"

Oh you just about take her on the damn door, but your nose catches something real nice behind her. Fuck- answer her!

"Oh. O-oh honey. Oh yes."

Your voice isn't above a whisper, your too in love to properly voice all the emotions you feel right now. All of them putting joy to shame. You hear her deflate almost, leaning into your open arms with a sigh, sucking in your scent when she realized you wore your signature: A soft floral scent, a bit of fruity coming through the hints of amber. It sound weird to say out loud to anyone- but it's so unequivocally you.

"Oh gods, good. I thought you'd be mad at me after all the work you went through to make things perfect..."

Her voice is shaky, not with tears thankfully, but with relief. She just keeps huffing you, just like she does when she needs to ground herself . You on the other hand? You are doing nothing wholesome, nor are you thinking it. You are acting very un-lady like, groping her ass and sniffing that scent that has you complete drugged. There's no way you could go through with this, not when her boobs touch your face. Not when she smell like this. Not when her hormones beg for your love. Not when-

"Doll- I want you to see something. Keep it in you pants a little longer? For me- MÍ Amor?"

This is when it clicks that's it taking everything in her to shimmy out of your grip. When you register that the thing your smelling is food and not only her arousal- You quickly nod your head and briskly let go like she burned you. It's that or your taking that slutty dress off. Mrs. Rabbit who?

She backs up, fixes herself and re-adjusts her hair, and takes you by the hand.

Oh gods: how beautiful she set this table. It looked fantastic.

You hoped you expressed as much as your mouth hung open in disbelief, then Sevika had the gall to hold her hands together Infront of her, nervous. How could she be nervous? Still, she nibbled on her lip waiting for you to say something.

And how she'd take anything to silence the ache in her chest. Gods, you looked entirely to good in that suit for her to continue with this dinner. Why do you always want to do these nice things? She needs to get railed ri-

"Diamond... This is beautiful. You did all of this?"

She give a little nod, her proud feeling making her all giddy and having her stand taller like she needed to correct her posture. You had a ridiculous smile probably, but you were so fucking amazed and proud of her, you didn't dare school your joy.

"Thihis is amazing love! Look at you being a lil' chef! You telling me you could do this all along?!"

She snorts a laugh, fully relieved that your happy and not disappointed that she ruined your surprised- but with relief comes something darker that's clouding 90% of her vison. You both know it.

Dinner's here- you're just missing the show. To redeem yourself you pull out her chair and have her sit down, pushing her in before running to your seat. Once your settled, you pour the champagne and give her the flute: Then she says, "Bueno Amor, open it. I hope you like it, I think I might have put bit to much pepper..."

=======

Anddd skiping to a blip of smut, I can't think rn- to much flustered. But know this- she brutal on the other side of the table and teasing you to no end. Horny she is- but she's making sure it ur problem. P.S- Sevika is bra-less, and ur telling me "girl- duh" but you don't get it. there's no pasties either, just pretty tities with nipples poking right through.

===SMUT====

Sevika doesn't know when you ever fucked her this hard. You're practically growling, and animalistic need taking you as you rail her harder each time like your thick 9 inches isn't stretching her to the brink of insanity. Oh- and how incredible that would be. Sevika can't fight it, she lost her ordering rights when she pushed you too far at the table. Even if you let her have a few seconds of control at the beginning. She's left trying to crawl away just for you to pull her back telling the nastiest thing in her ear.

"You think y' so fukin' funny huh? Wearing that skimpy thing, being a good lil' -hah- M-my good housewife 'nd not have may baby? But y' want that no? y'a want a lil' cake in there. Ya?"

And all she could do is sob through a moan, a babble trying to cuss you out as she begs you for more.

She gets that baby that night, but you make sure the next morning.

@archangeldyke-all- Hope you like?😭can't write rn- but hopfully you can do the dinner and the smut better?

Hopfully y'all enjoy too!!

kisssessssss

[diospore]

okay about that All Might Nomu fic I was wanting to write

i'm just gonna plan it here and if you guys have any suggestions lmk:

part All Might POV part SCP Style experiment logs.

interspersed with POVs of maybe like. izuku or others searching for him. or the public's reaction to him being missing??? difficult because all for one is the only guy i feel like i understand and I'm already stretching things writing all might lmao

they'd have to take the nomufication slowly because of all might's weak state. i think it'd be more fun to keep him alive during this process rather than go for a corpse - > nomu like usual. Just to make him suffer more

so it'd be like getting ready to receive OFA

build up the body strength, perhaps with forced healing quirks added. he's functionally quirkless again so i'm assuming if they take it slow enough he won't go braindead.

then more combat-oriented or mutative quirks.

Torture in the meantime would be good but it'd have to be non physically damaging torture until the healing quirks take. Drive him mad.

But in the end I don't think All Might would go out without a fight. He'd be less likely to direct that fear/anger towards others other than AFO. Really, AFO is just making him into the perfect guy to kill him.

He kills AFO and Garaki and escapes

Only thing he remembers is "someone with green eyes" and "son" vibes

Eventually he encounters 1-A and the heroes and at first fights but then sees Midoriya and immediately starts babying him.

Another mark for Shoto's conspiracy board

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - April 28 - Week 17

Hello, friends, hopefully you had a great week! Here’s what I read this week--I revisited a favorite by Sineala. Check it out and be sure to leave comments/kudos if you enjoy it! 

~ 

Safe Haven by gottalovev, zappedbysnow

It's been three months since the Battle of New York. Four since Steve woke up in the future. Everything is still too fast, too bright, too glib. And then, as if it wasn't enough, Steve is dragged through a portal into an alternate universe. Other Him is happy, though, and that feels like hope.

my thoughts: I love Steve realizing he could and should be happy. The hope that he was given by someone else is just--so lovely to me.

Cicada Days by Captain_Panda

The serum's failing. Overwhelmed by the implications, Steve runs.

Tony Stark catches up to him. And then he puts his foot on the gas pedal.

Because nothing says summer love like a road trip.

my thoughts: come for the angst and stay for ironbound the shark. This has been on my tbr for a while because i KNEW it would hurt me, and it did. And it was lovely.

he's written mine on my upper thigh by meidui

If Tony really wanted to set boundaries, he wouldn’t be picking up Steve’s call this late at night.

If he didn’t want this ill-advised romp with Steve to go any further, he wouldn’t have been on his couch reading a book Steve left behind the one night Morgan is away at a sleepover; he would be on a date with someone his age, someone who isn’t his goddamn babysitter.

my thoughts: i'm obsessed with the way that meidui writes babysitter!Steve. He's so needy and lovely and unapologetic in his devotion to Tony, and Tony 'trying to do the right thing' Stark needs to just get onboard.

the only love i haven't screwed up by meidui

When Steve wakes up from the ice, there’s somebody waiting for him. He's handsome, and older, and he tells Steve that they're soulmates and he's waited all his life to find him.

my thoughts: the way that this soulmate fic plays out is heartbreaking and lovely.

Thrust Issues by Sineala for phoenixmetaphor

A battle gone wrong leads Tony to the unexpected and pleasant discovery that Steve is much more well-endowed than he could ever have imagined. But when Tony learns that Steve has never actually been able to sleep with anyone because of his size, Tony does what any good friend would do: he offers to relieve Steve of his virginity. Personally. Tony's determined, Tony's methodical, and Tony has a plan. He's going to get Steve laid. Tony just needs to make sure Steve never finds out that Tony's in love with him.

my thoughts: Sineala always hits just right with her Steve and Tony and I absolutely adored my reread of this one, how Steve is trying so hard to make this MORE and how Tony just--cannot fathom that Steve would ever want to date him. The 'you're straight' scene is honestly so fantastic.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Can't Help Himself (18+)

Pairing: Jason/Danny

Inspired by this wonderful piece of art I wanted to write some non-con with pit mad Jason and Danny, with some random LoA assassin holding Jason's leash.

Trigger warnings (seriously y'all); rape, vaginal penetration, degradation, manipulation, Pit mad!Jason, sexual violence, forced breeding.

This is Dead Dove

------

“Keep a tight grip on the leash,” Talia said as he handed over the chain with a personable smile. “He’s very well trained but that doesn’t always help when you’re not holding the leash. I’m loathe to part with him of course, but grandfather says you have an important prisoner and Jason is an excellent guard dog~” She ran her painted nails through the young man’s black and white hair.

The masked assassin nodded, looking down at the young man at the end of the leash, he glared back with glowing green eyes, swirling with the sort of mindless rage particular to the Lazarus pits. Such people were little more than animals but they could still be useful. “I’ll take good care of him,” She assured the leader’s daughter, bowing to her before she turned to leave. When Jason was reluctant to follow Talia made a sharp hissing sound that made him flinch and follow his temporary mistress without resistance. 

It was a quick walk to the cell in the depths of the league base that held one of the more interesting things they had managed to capture. “I brought you a friend, Phantom” the assassin said cruelly as she flipped on the lights. 

Inside the young man with slow white hair and intelligent Lazarus green eyes hissed at the sudden light. He glared at the assassin baring too sharp teeth and snarling, he had talked a lot when he had first been brought here but when he seemed to realize it didn’t do any good he had stopped. Now he was giving everyone the silent treatment seemingly out of spite, occasionally yanking on the Lazarus treated shackles, the only things they’d found that could hold him. He was wary as he glanced down at Jason, his eyes widening slightly. 

Jason too had fallen still and stopped snarling, the two men were just… staring at each other. Well that was odd. The assassin clicked her tongue and gave Jason’s leash a brief tug, reminding him who he was answering too and his purpose. He blinked and, rather than falling back into line he strained towards their captive, trying to get closer. 

She hissed sharply and kicked high, bringing her foot down on the chain connected to Jason’s thick collar, using her weight to drag him down to the floor. Jason let out growling oof as he barely caught himself enough to break the fall, finally looking away from the prisoner to look at the woman now standing on his leash, keeping him down on the floor by his neck. What shocked her was the whine that Phantom let out in response. When she looked up she saw that he was also straining towards Jason, matching green eyes filled with sympathy. 

“He doesn’t want to help you, you know,” She scoffed at Phantom. “The violence of the Pit runs deep in this one, he barely has enough of his mind left to know his own name. You should thank me for keeping him away from you, he probably wants to tear you apart,” she laughed only to be met by an Extra glowy glare from Phantom.

“You want him Fine,” She said, rolling her eyes and taking her foot off the chain, letting Jason get to his hands and knees. He moved towards Phantom hesitantly, expecting to be pulled back again, but this time she let him, following with a tight grip on his leash. She didn’t think the Demon Head would be pleased if he actually let a Guard Dog hurt his prize so she had to be ready to yank him back if he got too violent. 

When Jason realized that he wasn’t going to be pulled back he sped up and practically pounced on Phantom who let out an oof as he was pushed down to the stone floor. Before the assassin or, it seemed, Phantom, knew what was happening Jason was scrambling at the being clothes. 

“No, Don’t-” Phantom yelped, the first words he’d said in days as Jason tore Phantom’s shirt open from collar to waist like a child unwrapping a present. He lashed out to try and push Jason off but bound as he was Jason was stronger and didn’t seem to be struggling to hold Phantom down. Despite not needing to breath he gasps as Jason bears down on him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. What was interesting though was that despite looking scared and saying no Phantom was not fighting as hard as he could, wasn’t going for Jason’s throat or eyes.

“Well this is getting interesting~” She laughed, Phantom’s gaze snapped to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. 

“Make him stop,” Phantom gasped and she grinned unapologetically down at him, her mouth still covered by her mask but judging by his despair he saw it in her eyes. 

“No, I don’t think I will. I think I like where this is going~” She laughed. She did pull Jason back but it was not to stop Jason, but he was so mindless right now she wasn’t even sure He knew what he wanted. But she did~ When she pulled him back onto his knees she could see that his cock was rock hard and straining against the loose pants he was wearing. 

This was wrong of course, but she wouldn’t be an assassin if she didn’t have a sadistic streak, or cared at all about what was right. So she was just going to have fun, and right now what that means was shoving Phantom over onto his stomach with her foot and leaning down to grab the back of his pants with one hand, yanking them down and fully ignoring his screams for her to stop. 

Jason was staring, his eyes roaming over the curve of Phantom’s ass and when she yanked Danny’s hips up she saw how Jason’s pupils dilated when he got a good view of Phantom’s pussy. She planted her foot on the back of Phantom’s neck to keep him down and semi-still. “Good boy Jason,” She told Jason, talking over Phantom’s objections, knowing Jason would listen to her, the one holding his leash, like he was trained to. “Now you, take off your pants.” She ordered, and of course he obeyed though never did he take his eyes off of Phantom the entire time.

“Well, I think you know what you want, go ahead and take it~” She told Jason, pushing off of Phantom’s neck and leaning against the wall, though of course she still kept a firm grip on Jason’s leash. She'd step in if she had to, but she’d much rather just enjoy the show.

Jason hesitated for a moment, but as soon as Phantom started to pull away it broke through whatever was holding Jason back and he lurched into motion. He grabbed Phantom’s hips and yanked him back making the being yelp. Jason leaned down, his nose was nearly pressed into Phantom’s pussy as he breathed deeply, scenting the other as Phantom whimpered his protest. 

“You might as well shut up again Phantom. He only listens to the one holding his leash,” She mocked. Not that Jason seemed to be listening to her very much right now, whatever innate instinct to breed Phantom seemed to be overwriting just about everything else. “Besides it looks like he just can’t help himself.”

Jason ran his tongue over Danny’s pussy, a long sweep from his clit to his taint making him gasp and shudder. Jason did it again and Danny yanked against his chains, trying to cover his mouth but coming up just shy. “Jason Stop!” He pleaded but was completely ignored, just as she had warned him he would be. 

Jason growled and pushed deeper, his tongue disappearing inside the boy’s cunt. It was only a little disappointing to see Phantom bite his lip to silence himself, less so as she watched green blood drip down his chin from where his fangs had sunk into his own lip. Behind him Jason’s growl slowly morphed into a purr before he pulled back. His dick was an attractively desperate shade of pink as he adjusted his grip on Phantom’s hips and then ground against his ass. 

Phantom yowled like a furious cat and thrashed, but chained and pinned as he was there was nowhere for him to go as Jason wrestled his legs apart. Danny fought, until with one quick, clumsy thrust Jason forced his way into the pale being body. Pinned and penetrated Phantom finally fell still with a keen that would have been heartbreaking, had anyone who was listening been sympathetically inclined. 

She cackled and yanked on Jason’s leash, dragging him further over Phantom, further into his unwilling pussy. Jason’s face was read, his strong back covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his eyes glowing more intensely than ever before, fixed down on the object of his unwanted affections. 

He pulled out and pushed back in and Phantom yelped and shuddered, clawed fingers digging into the very stone beneath him as Jason wasted no time in fucking him. He looked up at her with hatred in his eyes that… if she was honest scared her a little. His gaze seemed to promise that the second he got out of these shackles she would pay, but she didn’t show that fear of course. 

“Don’t look at me that way~ I’m not the one fucking you,” She mocked him and he gave a broken snarl before spitting blood at her feet. Huh he must have bitten his tongue at some point. 

Jason’s eyes slid closed, his breathing coming in shallow moans and keens as he rutted into Phantom’s body with reckless abandon, uncaring and eager. He found some sort of rhythm, his moans and the sound of flesh on flesh the only sounds in the cell. Phantom had bitten his lip again, his eyes closed tightly and his fists clenched so quickly she could see the blood where his claws were digging into his own palms. 

Jason’s moans took on a new breathy tone as he lost track of his rhythm, bucking his hips in frantic shallow thrusts until he came. She knew he must have because Phantom wailed so loudly she knew it would be ringing in her ears for days.

Jason let go abruptly and Phantom collapsed to the floor, curling up in a ball and hugging himself tightly. “Wonderful performance everyone,” She laughed pulling Jason away. “But I don’t think you’ll be a good guard for him after all Jason. Sort yourself out. I’ll take you back to Talia and find someone who won’t fuck the prisoner.”

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)