#couldn't do much except make peoples lives a little easier by like

[frizzle-mcshizzle]

CAN I HAVE SOME KESLERxJULINE HCS??

YES YES YES 1000X YES (sorry this took so long) i really want to start calling them frosted beakers because it sounds cooler. anyways.

Juline struggled to control her ability after she first manifested because not only did she manifest at 14 much later than the rest of her peers, her ability is more connected to her emotions than it is for most fosters, making people around her see her as unstable and unpredictable, which upset her/made her angry, which make her ability harder to control and it was an endless cycle.

Kesler was a dorky curly haired 15yo with glasses and wasn't afraid of her and saw her as another noble kid he had to tutor to make sure his mentors still liked him and he wouldn't get sent to Exilium for some random made up reason

Juline didn't want to be in alchemy class, her parents pulled her out of her art class to go to the advanced alchemy class when she hadn't gone to alchemy class in years. so she was missing her favorite class and was now in a class she didn't understand forced to go tutoring with some dorky boy (who was a little cute (not cute enough to make her enjoy the class though)

eventually Kesler called out her behavior towards him not expecting anything to come out of it. but instead she apologized and said it wasn't fair of her to treat him like that. Kesler was shocked that she actually treated him like a person and Juline was offended that he would expect her to treat him otherwise. over the next several weeks they ended up having a lot of fun in the tutoring sessions together.

Juline played bramble in foxfire and it's something she genuinely enjoyed and was good at Kesler on the other hand couldn't play to save his life. Kesler lover to watch her play. because it was the only time he ever saw her smile so wide that her dimples would show.

they ended becoming close friends and then dating when they where around 17. they spent a lot of time around Kesler's family home as there was a forest right outside of the neighborhood he lived in. they spent a lot of time by the river because Juline could practice her ability and it was private and away from prying eyes, so they had the freedom to do what they pleased without comments about bad matches

the first spring they where dating Juline got really excited when snowdrops peaked through the snow and after that Kesler started to call her snowdrop. the nickname stuck for the rest of their lives, and they started buy each other jewelry with each others flowers on them

Juline was forced to go the elite levels by her parents, because they hoped that she and Kesler would break up with the distance and they wouldn't have to deal with a bad match for a daughter

they successfully avoided having a bad match daughter as well, Kesler was constantly being told he would ruin her life and Juline was struggling to keep up with writing letters and homework and classes didn't help. on top of that her parents wanted her to go to all these windowing gala's and she just complied because it was easier than fighting them on it. she also thought maybe just maybe her parents would realize she didn't love anyone else and would except the fact that wanted to marry Kesler.

they broke up around the time Juline graduated because Kesler wanted to protect her from the scorn, and he told her to find someone who would give her what she deserved because he couldn't.

they stayed apart for a few years neither dating anyone else because Kesler regretted what he did with everything in his soul but didn't think she would forgive him, and some part of him believed it was the right decision because he wanted her to live without scorn. Juline had given up on going to windowing gala's and decided to focus on her work because she didn't want to do anything else.

Kesler's older brother Eben went to the matchmaking office to get his third match list and Juline was on it. he decided to invite her, not because he was remotely interested in her but because on the off chance she came he wanted to give his little brother a second chance with the woman he still loved.

Juline went to Eben's windowing gala hoping that for some dumb reason Kesler would be there, the gala was hosted in a forest not far from the dizznee family home. not a lot of people came because they didn't want to go a 5th born's gala,

while there wasn't a lot of people present compared to the other gala's Juline had been to there was still enough people present for Juline to find it overwhelming. She asked Kesler's mom who was helping her son host if Kesler was there and she pointed down the path Juline knew all too well. it headed right to the river where she and Kesler had spent so much time together.

Juline took a deep breath and headed down the path telling herself that she would give Kesler a peice of her mind, because how dare he decide for her whats good for her, if she wanted to live with scorn she would she wasn't some coward who couldn't handle it.

Kesler was sitting on the fallen tree by the river and wouldn't even look her in the eyes. Juline lost all words she had in her head the second she saw him. all she could say was "i missed you Kesler"

they talk and talk and talk until the sun goes down. tears are shead apologies are made again and again and again, they stay by the river until dark, then even longer. Kesler asks Juline if they could start over, start from the beginning, and Juline agrees in a heartbeat, they part with promises to call in the morning,

Juline returns home with a hope in her heart for the future, not caring how it would effect her cushy noble job. she got Kesler back, she finally got him back.

Kesler didn’t stop thanking Eben for what he did, and Eben told him he owed Kesler after how he treated him in the past, Kesler was just happy to have his best friend back, he had always forgiven a little to easily.

Juline and Kesler dated in “secret” for years (it was blantly obvious that they where heads over heels for each other to anyone that had functional eyes), while Kesler built slurps and burps up from the ground. they didn’t get married until they where in their 80s because they liked the peace of living without the full fledged scorn

when they finally decided to get married, they had their wedding at Havenfeild, Juline announced to all of her noble friends about the wedding knowing they would be horrified that she was marrying a talentless. Edaline helped with the decor, and planing the whole wedding, it was actually quite small and peaceful wedding. she was fired from her noble job the second their marriage went through the government,

[missiletainnyt]

Me and my DnD and tabletop friend group have been talking and returning back to our old Villain game we ran, and now have a google doc with a file named “Hero World Lore” which is about 3 pages long already as a group world building project and it is the most thrilling thing I’ve done in my free time the last three weeks.

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S1

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: None

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Prologue

“We announce the birth of a healthy girl…Princess Y/N!” Chief Arnook announced as the crowd cheered for their new princes alongside Yue. What the crowd didn't know was the difficulties of even keeping her a healthy princess. Once the baby was born, she couldn't stop wailing and crying. It was like every bone of her body was in pain. All the medical help didn't do anything, they didnt know why the Chief’s daughter was in so much pain. Yagoda suggests going to the Spirit Oasis, it's their only chance. Chief Arnook sweats as well as his wife, as if they're bound to be unlucky for every life they give. The royal parents of this princess used the same technique as they did with their previous daughter. Dipping her in the Spirit Oasis while praying for her life to the moon spirit, the color of the girl's hair turned from brown to a graceful white. Silent cheers and cries as they held their newest child close to them, happy the moon spirit gave another one of their daughters a second chance.

“Stop touching the edge of your coat” My mother instructed as she pulled my hand from the cuffs. I whined but one stern look from my mother stopped me. I huffed as I stood up straight leaning more so to my sister, Yue who took my hand graciously. In books and stories becoming a princess sounds like a dream. You have money, attention and you could do whatever you want. Everything is accurate except the last one, I couldn't do everything I wanted. I had to be restrained to the guards and my parents eye, even Yue doesnt get this treatment as much as I do. However I forgot to mention how I even got into strict confinement in the first place. “What are you doing?” My father grabbed my hand making the water orb splash at both of our feet. “She's a water bender…” My mom whispered as my dad's eyes widened. “Y/N…” He spoke softly as he held both of my shoulders in a kindly manner. “Do not water bend, it's not allowed for people like you”. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him confused. He sighed as he took my hand. “Y/N, where we live only men are allowed to use waterbending, that's their job…to protect” My father shows me to the boys training their bending. “Especially people like you and your sister, you're both very important to this nation”. I didn't listen, it's not like I didn't understand what he was saying, I just didnt understand why it had to be like this. I zoned off as I saw the male benders. Envying that they can use their gift while I couldn't use mine. I snapped out of my zoned out space with a little pinch given by my sister. I flinched lightly as she slightly giggled earning a hush from our mother. I don't understand us needing to come to these royalty meetings, neither Yue and I are close to 16. Well she is closer to 16 by what? 6 years? That's still a whole 6 years till 16! I'm only younger than Yue by a year, however people treat me like a polar bear dog, cooing at me constantly for doing the littlest task while Yue gets treated so much more maturely. Some might say I have it easier but honestly I just feel dumb. Once the meeting ended we respectfully bowed and got up following our father. I held back my yawn as I saw the now night sky, looking how beautiful the moon is. ҉ ☾ I woke up in the middle of the night, groaning as I looked at the moon. I brush through my tangled hair with my hand while walking outside near the river. Is anyone there? I internally thought as I scavenged the area to see if there were any witnesses. I double checked and took a deep breath. Opening my eyes I hold the water orb, feeling the calming air around me. “You're going to get caught if you keep doing that”. I yelped and dropped my water orb. I turn around immediately with widened eyes meeting Yue. “Oh Yue” I sigh in relief as she glared at me. “You could've gotten caught by the guards and gotten in more trouble then you already have”. I sigh in understanding but also in annoyance. This isn't the first time I have snuck out to try out waterbending. Some days I have been caught but some days I haven't. “I'm going back to bed” I sigh with my head down “Are you?” “Yes, I am” Yue giggled as she patted me on the back. “I believe you can use it one day Y/N, I really you” She whispered sweetly as I nodded. “Thank you”

Next ->

a/n: This is my first fic im starting and im getting brainrott from avatar :) im still learning how to write so if there is any suggestions please share. Im like half asleep while writing this authors note so I know it wont make any sense when I wake up lmao Also feel free to tell me if you want to be added in the taglist!

---

[skyeslittlecorner]

Some headcanons about Mc who suddenly leaves hell without anyone knowing (no notice (?) too, i mean not saying anything about their leaving).

I imagine that the kings have separation anxiety (hohoho love some angst stuff here 😈), but kinda wonder what's gonna happen when MC returned?

I feel allowed, and even encouraged, for some yummy angst~ We will switch order a little this time. And I *may* be a *little* biased, don't mind me.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Leviathan tries to live without you as he did before he met you, but it's not the same. When you finally show up, he wants to hang you. But what if you leave again? No. He won't allow it. From now on, you are under constant surveillance. You're not even allowed to go to the bathroom alone (no, there's no negotiation.) He's lost too much to lose you too.

Beelzebub won't even know you're gone. You would have to literally disappear from under his nose during sex, well, a date too. In such a scenario, he would be furious. You wouldn't come back because he would find you; he has a whole army of clones, a lot of time, willingness and knowledge of the whole world geography. He would even snatch you back from heaven. Afterward, when he had you in his arms, he would think it was quite a lot of fun. But don't do that again.

Mammon has already ordered mourning in Tartaros, a huge site has been built for the construction of your own mausoleum. Have you seen the Taj Mahal? This is a dollhouse in comparison to the plans for your posthumous palace. But you're back, and you're alive! Or at least you're still alive, because Mammon is hugging you so much that nothing is certain. Now that you're back, maybe you want a huge palace to live in? He will do anything you want. Just don't leave, Master. Of course, you can do whatever you want, but... he will do anything to make you *not* want to leave.

Satan

It feels... so quiet here. So alone. His beautiful country shambles in ruin, his strong people lose their heart. He, as a king, must stay strong, but with every soldier bleeding out on the pavement, every devil loosing their limbs, every child losing parents his own will crush slowly. All he wanted to do was to help them. To make their lives easier. To take their pain and bear it himself.

"...prise, Your Majesty?"

Satan lowered the bazooka from his shoulder. His gaze was as empty as the sky beneath them. All the angels disappeared in a powerful explosion.

There was a ray of hope for Gehenna, for him, or rather... have been. But Descendant of Solomon disappeared. He looked for you everywhere. Trashed half of Mammon's palace, tore down Leviathan's ropes, damn it, he even found Beelzebub wandering around the pubs and shook all the information out of him. But nobody knew anything. He almost started a war with other countries and didn't care at all. This helplessness weighed was heavy inside him like a boulder.

"Your Majesty?"

Slowly, day by day, hour after hour, he was losing his strength. His will. Not to fight, but to live. This made him become quieter and angrier. Except for Sitri, all the nobles began to move out of his way. This only fueled his spiral of madness. He didn't sleep at night. Just fight, work and drink. If he didn't keep his mind occupied, the black void would fuel his wrath, and they had had to deal with his outbursts often enough. They were so strong that sometimes the entire castle lost consciousness.

Nothing helped anyway.

He was the king, he couldn't just leave it all behind and die. Even if he wanted to.

"Satan!"

"What."

Satan. His name. Nobody but you called his name here... He looked around frantically, but they were alone. Sitri tried to wake him up, it seems. His henchman looked concerned. It's annoying. So annoying. And he didn't mean Sitri's concern, but his own ridiculous behavior. Was it so obvious that he was worried again? He gritted his teeth and turned on his heel, heading to the hospital to assess the damage.

"Listen to me, won't you? I have significant information."

"If it doesn't concern them, I don't care."

"It does."

Satan stopped in his tracks and wanted to punch him. But this time with a hint of hope.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier!"

He did, but that wasn't the point now.

"They are waiting for you at the hospital. At least freshen up a bit before you…"

But Satan wasn't listening anymore. He ran towards the tents and tore the curtains, looking around like crazy. Only the touch of a hand on his shoulder stopped his hectic search. The voice that came poured into his emptiness, sweet and thick as honey. A familiar, beloved voice.

"It's okay, I'm back. I missed you too."

He couldn't answer, physically he just wasn't able to do it. There was a lump stuck in his throat. Stiff as a rock, he didn't want to turn around. What if this is a dream? A sweet delusion? But someone hugged him from behind, and hugged him tightly. Illusion couldn't do it.

He turned and hugged you, sliding to his knees. Kisses, caresses, love, he wanted to give you everything so that you wouldn't disappear. He needed you. His eyes were dry, but he felt like he was going to melt himself.

"Never do that again." Hoarse voice sounded like a threat, but both of you knew that it was out of love. "Never. Leave. Me. Again."

"I'm sorry." Your heart broke seeing him on his knees. "I won't."

"Promise."

You crouched down and grabbed his chin to finally look into his red eyes. For the first time since you left, hope sparked in them.

"I promise that I will never leave you, and if I do, I will always come back to you."

From now on, he won't let you out of his sight even for a moment. Not after you made him a promise that finally ignited his will to live.

PS. Try to disappear from him for a second, and he will shove Zagan's talisman up your ass.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

can you do headcanons about percy x athena's daughter? except she's like... not annabeth? hehe if a fic is easier, do that, but sometimes headcanons are js more fun :)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of athena! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of athena! reader hcs warning: possible language warning but tbh i don't remember even tho i legit just wrote this- author's note: not annabeth was hard bc girl is like...THE daughter of athena lmao this prompt scared me frfr bc like...how da freak do i make it not annabeth???? i hope i did okay, lmao, but i think if i had to try this prompt again i'd just combust frfr worse than writing daughter of apollo stuff and that's saying SOMETHING FRFR

kelp head and his clever girl

(see what i did there??? it's okay, i know it's not funny, leave me alone)

you were quiet, kept to yourself and your books for years and years

the only reaction people ever got out of you was a tiny little smirk whenever you'd beat their ass at some game

chess, sword fighting, sudoku, the wordle

you'd always managed to win and you'd smirk to yourself, clearly proud as the person marched away

that's actually how you met percy, the boy eager bounding up to you with flushed cheeks and asking you to a friendly game of checkers

your eyes glimmered at the prospects of pummeling the boy, shaking his outstretched hand and letting him lead you towards the game board

and you lost

you lost to the stupid son of poseidon, who looked almost sheepish as he won the game, glancing up at you with offers of next time

you stomped away, fuming, and percy mentally screamed, figuring he just screwed all of his chances with the daughter of athena

the next morning, while percy moped into his blue pancakes, you marched up to him, slamming down a deck of cards and ordering that the two of you play go fish

percy would have agreed to anything if it meant spending more time with you

you guys continued to find random games to play, keeping track in your notebooks of how many games each of you had won

but at some point, it turned from an eagerness to win, to a yearning to be with the other person

you realized this significantly later than percy, sleep alluding you that night as you realized you'd fallen for the son of poseidon without your own knowledge

figures just as much for the daughter of athena

you next day, you met with percy, who awaited your next game proposal

"ever heard of spin the bottle?"

"whAT?"

"it's a game. im gonna win."

"o-okay. i think calling it a game is a bit of stretch-"

"do you want to play or not, jackson?"

"you know what? you're on, ln!"

you guys couldn't decide on the winner of that game, you're mouths a bit busy to voice their opinions

in your notebook, you denoted it as a tie, a mutual winning for both parties involved

for your first birthday with the two of you as a couple, percy thought it would be a marvelous idea to make you a paper garland out of your all time favorite book

he wasn't stupid enough to use your personal copy, rather buying his own and chopping it up into shapes

he proudly presented it to you, only for you to rip him to shreds for decimating a perfectly good book

from that point on, he made sure NO damage ever befall a book in your presences

he never wanted to face that wrath again frfr

he once annotated a book for you, leaving little notes (on posts it) for you in the margins and doodles that he thought of while reading certain passages

you never had so much fun reading a book again

it proudly lives on your nightstand, getting read at least once a day

you like giving percy those goofy little math equations, that when solved, always come out to like 'i ♡ you' or 'luv ya' or whatever

do you have to help him solve it everytime?? yes

and do you get a kiss for solving it with him?? yes so it's all worth it

every morning, you guys sit together and go through the new york times app and do all the little games together

your fav is the wordle, the og

and percy loves strands

and you both DESPISE tiles and it's the only one you guys dont do

avoid it at all costs frfr

and yes, you guys are very strategic with your guesses...mostly

you do, in fact, use bagel as your first guess every time for wordle

totally not speaking from personal experience, of course

i hate bagels...yeah

it started out as a joke, percy typing it in on your phone when you left for a bathroom break, figuring it would be fun to toy with you

but then it got like two yellows and green, like what???

so you guys just kept using it???

and it works like a charm usually

but post the bagel guess, yall are taking notes and writing down all the possibilities and narrowing it down

it takes fifteen minutes to put in the next guess everytime

this has just devloved into promo for the new york times lmao

anyways, percy and you play a lot of games together, but you both agree that your favorite game to play together is the game of love

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Public Displays

Anthony Lockwood x f!Reader

Warnings: None, this is pretty much fluff and only fluff :) 💖💖💖

Summary: Lockwood and Y/N have to pretend to be a couple for a case, which is hard for her, but things are more complicated than they seem, as usual 💖💖💖

A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 It's a little longer, but also I love the fake dating trope a little too much :') 💖💖💖 Also so sorry if updates are unpredictable and slow :’) 💖💖💖 Hope you have a great day 💖💖💖

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

"Lockwood are you really sure this is necessary ?", she frowned, sinking deeper into her seat.

Why did they need to pretend to be couple for this ? He was known to love elaborate plans, but this seemed a little much and slightly unnecessary. Alright, maybe the problem was partly because she really liked him, but how could she not. He always had her tea ready, just the way she liked it. He made her laugh, not cute little giggles, the ugly one that had her in tears on the ground, snorting. He cared about everyone in the team, more than he cared about himself sometimes, and definitely more than he let on. So, it was hard to not like him. She did hide it though, buried so deep, as to be sure that no one would ever know. Someone smarter and braver than her would have told her to just tell him how she felt, but it was easier this way, the pain of rejection would be agonising. Not just because she'd lose him, it may as well be like losing Lucy and George as well. She would rather live in denial all her life, than give up her only actual family. What could she say, she was a pessimist.

"I'm positive", he grinned.

George put down his book, nodding his head, "Public displays of affection do make people uncomfortable"

"Not helping", she groaned, letting her head drop into her hands.

"What ?! I'm just stating the obvious", he frowned, looking around the room for an air of support. The room was silent except for Lucy, giggling in her seat. Clearly this was amusing to her. She shot her a wary look, a silent plea for help. She only shrugged her shoulder, popping another biscuit into her mouth. She cursed under her breath.

He took a seat next to her, a hand on her shoulder, "Don't you trust me Y/N". She did trust him, that wasn't the problem. She didn't trust herself.

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

"Lockwood, slow down", she gasped, unable to keep up with him. He was practically dragging her behind him. Their hands were interlocked, and she was only too aware of how her hand slotted into his, like pieces of a jigsaw. She was terrified. Her palms were sweaty. What if he could notice how sweaty her palms were. She muttered an apology as she bumped into another passerby, looking down on the ground.

He didn't slow down, only shook his head with a smile, "Sorry sweetheart, you are just going to have to walk faster".

She was taken aback, but kept walking. "I- Don't call me that", she sighed.

He squeezed her hand little, "What? It's part of the act, we are playing a couple".

"You are so annoying", she rolled her eyes. She hoped that he wouldn't look back and see the blush that coloured her face.

"But you love it sweetheart", he laughed and she couldn't help but laugh too.

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

"You know we need this to be believable right ?", he sent her a pointed look.

"This is completely believable", she raised a brow, gesturing to the couch that they were both seated on. She was playing dumb, well aware of the distance between them. It was supposed to be a reality check of sorts, that she was hoping he wouldn't notice, but he was being sharper about this than she thought.

He chuckled, bringing a hand to her waist, pulling her towards him, "You could come a little closer ?". She pressed her lips together, as her contingency plan fell to pieces. Well shit. "You're so stiff", he repositioned her arms around him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder, before replacing his arm around her.

"There this isn't so bad is it", he sighed, sounding a little too pleased with himself. He was warm and comfortable, with the faintest scent of lavender and bergamot. She let herself relax, as much as she could at least, settling in next to him. He was all to aware, a smug smirk plastered on his face. This was bad.

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

She found herself in a predicament. She had to create a distraction. The best way would be to act like a couple, but that would only make it worse for her at the end of the night. Chancing a glimpse at the shadowy figure in the corner of her eye, she groaned internally. She knew what she had to do.

"Hey", she turned towards him,

His eyes met hers, "Yes ?'.

"How is that you always manage to look so good ?", she giggled, pulling him closer by his tie. She brought her palm to his cheek, he leaned into her touch. That was weird, but she kept going. She wasn't risking her sanity the whole day just for the case to end up in failure. She moved in closer, their lips only meeting, separated by a few millimetres. She could feel his hot breath on hers. Her heart pounded faster. How had this become a part of her job ?

His face turned red, "I um- I-".

The figure moved past them, and she thanked every higher power in existence. She pushed away from him, taking a step back. His tie dropped from her hold, "Okay they're gone".

Only then could she truly appreciate how flustered he had actually gotten. He looked like he had run a kilometre. She laughed, "Are you blushing ?". It was rare, which is why it was such a treat. At least if anything, at the end of this day she could say that she made the Anthony Lockwood speechless.

He fixed his gaze on the ground, running a hand through his hair, "I- I um- No".

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

"They're coming out, we gotta go", she hissed, tugging at his arm. How had she not come to the realisation that this would end up with them in a sketchy alley, that was lit up by a sinister glow and wet with something she hoped was just rain water. This was disgusting, but the stakes of their lives was a bigger priority than hygiene, and still everything she endured today would all be for nothing if they were dead at the end of this.

He ran a palm across his face, "No there's not enough time".

"They're gonna know we were eavesdropping", she chewed her bottom lip. Her eyes flitted back and forth, searching for an escape, but all she could see were walls, nothing to climb, no hole to squeeze threw. Nothing. How could there be nothing ? They always made it out ? He always had a plan.

She looked at him, a sinking feeling burning a hole in the bottom of her stomach. "I- I know what to do", he sounded unsure.

At least he had a plan, and a plan was better than nothing. She winced, shrugging her shoulders, "Well whatever it is you're gonna have to do it quick".

In one swift movement, he had shoved her against the wall, his body pressed up against hers. She was breathing heavily, trying and failing to look anywhere else. It was probably not a great look, but when he put his lips on hers, her mind went blank. He tasted sweet, like honey. He was gentle, not like that she had imagined. It was soft and hesitant, messy and awkward. Still through all that it felt different, less like a daydream, more real.

He pulled away, she gasped, "That was-".

"I'm sorry, they’re gone now- I didn't mean to-", he began, hands up in surrender. Cutting him off she grabbed the collar of his shirt, connecting their lips again. He was taken aback, but he caught on soon enough, his hands moving to her waist, tugging her closer against him, almost suffocating her. It would be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy it though. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, leaving it sticking out in different ends. She felt warm all over and desperate, clinging onto him, but in the moment she didn’t care.

She pulled away breathless. He looked out-of-breath, yet he still seemed to be watching her closely. She turned her gaze to his, searching his eyes for a sign, something to tell her that he felt the same. He gave her a soft smile, “Can- Can we do that again ?”. She laughed.

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

The door swung open. Her eyes travelled to their interlocked hands. He scratched the back if his head sheepishly and she looked to the ground.

"So, how was your date ?", she took a step back, letting them in, with a teasing grin.

Her eyes were still trailed on the floor, letting him lead her in, "We um-". How would she be able to describe it ? Where would she even begin ?

"I knew it", she shook her head knowingly, arms crossed.

She was confused. "What ?", he wondered, tracing patterns on the back of her palm.

“You two kissed”, she pointed out, but before he could respond she was already marching up that stairs, “George you owe me 10 quid”.

Maybe she wasn’t as great at hiding her feelings as she thought ? She tilted her head to look at him. His hairs was ruffled with a tired smile on his face, her hand still secured in his. Turning to her, he raised a brow, probably feeling her stare. She just smiled back.

"You two kissed", she pointed out, like it was written on their foreheads, but before he could think of a response, she was already marching up the stairs, “George you owe me 10 quid”.

They were silent. Maybe she wasn’t as good as hiding her feelings as she though she was. She tilted her head to look at him, a ruffled with a tired smile on his face, she felt a sense of comfort. He turned over to her, probably sending her stare, she just smiled, content.

They were silent. She felt her face heat up. Was it that obvious to everyone else ? Maybe she wasn’t as incognito as she had thought ? And maybe that wasn’t so bad she thought, as she looked at him, ruffled with a tired smile on his face. She felt a a strange sense of comfort and couldn’t help but smile too.

[writing-whump]

Been here for a while, enjoying your fics. ❤️

Could you consider to write something including post - concussion emeto? Maybe with Matthew, because who else would be hit 😅

Greetings,

A.

Hello A.! I'm so happy you are enjoying yourself, that's super sweet! ❤️ Thank you so much for the request! Ran away from me a little but includes what you wanted :D I'm very honoured.

This one's crying, the other's sick

Seline is upset and crying. Matthew comforts her, when it turns out he came home with a concussion.

There will be no direct trains because of construction work. You can take the bus and the train connection, but we can't guarantee your way if either is delayed.

Just great. Exactly what she needed for the travel home to see her parents.

Seline knew she was freaking out for no reason. This fact didn't make it any easier to not do it.

Her life has always been divided into two places. Bratislava and Vienna. Home and school, parents and friends, Slovak and German.

She knew and her parents knew that her life was heading into the direction of Vienna - more money, more prestige, the use of languages. Slovakia was a nice home, but everyone who had any sense, ambition and knew just a bit of English moved out for college and never returned.

But Seline doubted as many people had such a good relationship with their parents. That's why she wasn't moving out even after 10 years of travelling. She even felt sorry for all her classmates and colleagues, many of which had to move to Vienna at 18 for university. Without parents and roots and childhood friends. Independence and adult responsibilities. Or were they proud of it? Was it a good thing they couldn't be children for that long?

When she asked her friends from countries farther away, like Bulgaria or Italy, they said it was fine. That they couldn't imagine living with their parents again or still. That it was nice to live alone.

Maybe they just didn't like being around them as much as Seline. Having such close relationship with your own mother was from what Seline could see, quite the exception. Her mother was her most trusted friend, her confidante, her idol and advisor. Seline's friends didn't call their mothers for two hours a day and they didn't visit every weekend and they didn't...

Seline wouldn't have moved out if it wasn't for the fights with her younger brother. And because she got good work at the university as an assistant, but that was running out. Every year was a risk of not getting the contract prolonged. She considered studying another master degree, cause as long as she was a student, they were more likely to keep her. Graduated non-students were more expensive because of taxes. PhD students were the most risky, cause they go no funding without an actual job at a project or faculty. And those were all temporary, only for a limited amount of years. Not to mention the law in Austria that you couldn't work at the same university more than 8 years on temporary contracts, which was supposed to protect university staff. Except the universities, instead of employing people without temporary contracts, didn't employ them at all, until they came with a few years of foreign experince. Go for a two years to England. Or France. Or anywhere else. Uproot yourself and maybe we will get you back.

Very family friendly.

So it somehow happened that Thursday morning she found out that her train for Friday to visit her parents would take 1.30h instead of 50 minutes and because the bus could be late and the train that you should change after wouldn't wait in the case it was, meant she would be straned somewhere in Parndorf.

So she would have to take the train before, that was direct and safe, which meant she would travel for an hour earlier, miss the connection she would have if the train were normal, wait two hours at the main station in Bratislava to get to her parents house. Her house. Whatever it was.

This would normally not anger her to the point of tears, but it was about a week before her period, so PMS was hitting her hard.

She didn't want to go to the train sooner. Or wait at the station because she missed the direct beautiful train that would get her to the home town near Bratislava.

She could take a taxi and pay more. Or take her own car. But Seline hated driving. It was stressful and fearsome and horrible responsibility and each bigger car or faster driving car made her jump in her seat in deadly fear. Her father would scoff at her for being so panicked about it. That she should drive more to get rid of it.

Well. Because of the fear, her main goal was not to drive.

Either with time with the train, with money with the taxi or with effort and nerves with the car. Nothing was for free.

She left her car at her parents anyway. Didn't need it in Vienna with all their great public transport connections. It was a relief she didn't gave to consider going with a car and no one could guilt her into using it.

She had two roomates who liked driving and cars. But she couldn't exactly ask them for a 1 hour long drive on the highway to Bratislava to see her parents.

Isaiah didn't complain about her visiting her parents during weekends. Since their schedules at university weren't packed, they had most Mondays free and other days during the week with only one seminar or online class here and there and could be together.

Seline loved not having to commute. To stay in bed until 11, talk with Isaiah over lunch, take a walk in the park or by the river and go to a seminar at 5 in the evening, meet with friends after or a bit before. Leisure nice days. Working 8-5 terrified her. She loved the flexibility, the way she could rule her time, do homework or write essays whenever she felt like, write stories and her poems whenever she was inspired, listen to music till 2 in the morning or binngewatch series all evening.

Though evening were usually reserved for movie nights with the whole trio. She loved those too.

Standing between two worlds was always a trait of hers. Something she was at peace at. But deciding between one home or the other, one city or the other and the time between pained her still, or even more so, after 10 years of back and forth.

If she could just buy that two generational house somewhere close to Vienna, on the fringes of the city and have them all there. Travel would take 20 minutes with the subway, her parents and her pack would be at the same place and they could have a view on the fields and not on the people and noise filled buildings of the city...

Except her parents still worked in Bratislava, and her grandmother and her uncle lived there and their families lived there and...and her parents didn't even speak German.

She could go back and live in Slovakia. She would get a high paid job just for speaking German and English so well. Lots of her friends from primary school did that. Those that didn't leave for France, US, Belgium or as far as Australia, that is.

She never saw her future in Bratislava. Not with the communist looking buildings and shabby streets and corrupt government and horrible health care. But she grew up around fields, open sky and on the train. City life was culturally shocking.

Seline walked back and forth on her floor, stamping her feet in anger. She let the frustrated tears loose, no one was home. Updating her train app if the connections didn't change after all didn't bring any new results for the 5th time.

She ended up in the hall, by the stairs, leaning against the wall. Today was a good day to wallow in self-pity as any. Hugging her knees, she cried quietly, half-realizing she was just being dramatic and the situation wasn't half as bad as her riled up emotions would have her believe.

"Whoa, hey. Are you crying for real?"

Seline almost jumped out of her skin at Matthew's tone, shooting up to her feet. "W-what are you doing here?!"

Matthew stood on the last step of the steps next to her. His knuckles were still wrapped in white bandages, so must have been boxing and returned sooner. He was gripping the railing tight and looked pale and tired, but the sarcastic tone and raised eyebrow chased her worries away. "I live here. Duh."

"T-that's my floor." She hurriedly rubbed at her face to get rid of the moisture. "I didn't hear you arrive."

"You were...preoccupied," Matthew said dryly. "So what's up? Did something happen? Should I go beat someone up?"

Seline chuckled despite the tears and her emberassment for him to catch her like this. "No. That's really sweet, but not at all necessary."

Matthew gave her a dubious look, then crouched down on the ground next to her, sliding down the wall slowly. "Something must have happened."

"Nothing happened. I'm just being silly." She waved his concern away, trying to smile.

"Uhm. Do you want me to call Isaiah?"

"No!"

Matthew blinked at her vehemence.

Seline ran her hands through her hair and sat down back next to him, back against the wall. "Nothing happened. It would just worry him."

"If he could comfort you, I'm sure he would be happy to worry. Maybe I just can't say what you need to hear."

"It's fine. Seriously. I'm overreacting because of hormones. Nothing is wrong." She flushed a little, realzing she said hormones, but when Matthew didn't laugh or say she was a hysterical girl, her shoulders slumped in relief and she relaxed a little.

"I didn't realize you two were so similar. Always such a put together front," Matthew commented, looking away with a sigh.

"You really want to hear my stupid reason?" She showed him the screen of her phone, too quickly for him to focus without realizing. "The trains won't be running at the time I wanted to go home tomorrow. I will have to leave early and wait up till my parents come home for them or take a risky train-bus connection that doesn't have to work out."

Stunned silence. "Can't you just drive?"

"No, I can't just drive," she said, annoyed. "I hate driving and I don't have my car here and you can go and say how this is my fault for not overcoming myself with the car and-"

"Fine, I give up." Matthew put his hands up in surrender. "You have a total right to hate driving. You want me to drive you?"

"I-" Seline spluttered for air. "I-I can't ask that of you-"

"Well, you aren't asking, I'm offering," Matthew said with a shrug. "I can drive you to your parent house and then go back. Your trains will work on Sunday, right? I can pick you up at the station."

Seline crossed her arms on her chest, avoiding his gaze. "It's just this one time. I can take the trains normally, the timing fits well, with them coming home and all. Just this once." Shouldn't she invite him over when he drives her that long? She didn't invite him or Isaiah to meet her family yet.

"It's no problem," he said tiredly. "Stop defending it like I'm moving a mountain for you. If you told this to Isaiah, even hinted at it, he would offer the same."

Seline nodded, eyes overflowing with tears again, this time from how touched she was. Seriously, today was such a stupid day. She was crying for everything. "Thank you."

"Oi. What now?" Matthew said, a little exasperated. He turned to her, wrapping his bandaged hand around her elbow and then pushed her forward against his chest.

Seline melted at the contact, pressing her crying face against his chest. Matthew enclosed his arms around her, practically dragging her to sit in his lap as he held her. She sat with her side and arm against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is just over emotion. Don't worry," she said reassuringly as his hug tighthened.

He sighed into her hair.

She laughed nervously against his ear, chin on his shoulder, wanting to fill the silence with something. "No way I want Isaiah to see me like this. Giant minus point, to have such an emotional girl on his hands. He would be running for the hills."

Matthew snorted. "But you don't mind me seeing?"

"You won't break up with me," she said with a half-broken smile.

"He wouldn't either."

"Not on the first time. But on the fifth time? Tenth time? I better not give him more difficult times if I can help it, before he starts counting."

Matthew shook his head. She could feel the movement against her face as she closed her eyes. "No one is counting. That's not what couples do."

"Oh really? It's all I'm doing. Counting how much we are giving each other and if it's still ends up in mutual benefit."

She could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. "I don't think it's supposed to work like that. It's not a business deal."

"It's very similar. I have to be pretty enough, attractive enough, smart and entertaining so when I really really need something, I can get a favour and not waste on something stupid and minor like this-"

"Isaiah would run himself to the ground caring for you and never think of something like that."

"Well, that's just because he is kind and selfless and so self-sacrifacing towards everyone. Doesn't make me any special."

Seline frowned. "I love you."

Matthew leaned forward, his face in his hands, leaving her with the view on his back. "You think emotion doesn't play any role? People aren't just a list of plus and minus traits. You feel something about them too. If everyone was so strick as you say, I wouldn't make the list for anyone."

There was a beat of silence.

Matthew jerked underneath her, looking up, face going all red. "What? Where did that come from?"

"You are right." Seline shrugged. "I'm very rational about the whole dating thing, comparing and counting things, because I don't want the pink glasses to blind me to our compatability. But when it comes to friendships or family or...well, pack, it's all about feelings and I know what I feel. I love you. In the family sort of way."

Matthew rubbed his forehead, unsuccessfully trying not to blush. "You have never said it to Isaiah, you can't blurt it out like that to me."

Seline suspected there hadn't been enough people saying it to Matthew in general. "I love him too. But if we work out as a couple, I have to love him in that other, romantic way too. I'm not sure we are that far yet."

Yes, she was attracted to Isaiah. It's been very hard for her to fall in love, to respect let alone to admire someone else, so she was very happy she found him. And he was intelligent, thoughtful, considerate and he put so much effort into everything and she admired him for many things...but she never had such a long relationship, as she was not interested in dating in her teen years, and the inexperience was making her cautious.

Matthew shook his head, burying it in his hands once again. He was breathing all harsh and fast. She could feel his chest heave underneath her. She wrapped her hands around his neck, suprised at how sweaty he was and how weirdly pale...was he like that from the start?

"Hey, Matt-"

"You two should really," he gulped loudly, shuddering, "have a talk. Being this tense and counting around each other can't be- hrrrk-" he burped loudly, slamming a hand to his lips.

Seline retracted her arms back, putting one gently on his chest and the other on his stomach. He was still breathing so fast and his stomach was heaving, like it shriveled under her palms...and suddenly Matthew leaned to the side and gagged violently over her arms on the floor.

"Matt!" she yelped as his stomach heaved and he gagged again, this time bringing a mouthful of water. Seline rubbed his stomach, feeling it contract as he heaved the third time, this time bringing up a big wave of water. "What's wrong with you? Are you- did you- you were feeling sick the whole time?"

Matthew spat onto the ground, giving a full-body shudder. "Sorry. I just..."

"Is this some kind of flu? Did you eat something bad?" Crisis always brought a calm over her, making her practical. She could feel her mind clearing from trivial concerns, emotions in the backround.

"Not really. My sparrring partner got a really good hit to my head today...I guess I was feeling a little light-headed since then." He blurred his words together a little and he was still that sickly pale.

"Wait, you mean to tell me you are concussed?" She tried to scramble away from his lap, not wanting to add weight to his misery. He was feeling sick and dizzy from a hit to the head and let her blabber on?

He tighetned his hold again, squeezing her against him, hanging his head on her shoulder. "Sorry...can I just...I don't really want to move." He smiled crookedly. "I can't believe I survived climbing up the stairs."

"Matt, you silly fool. You should have said something." She threaded her fingers through his hair, looking for a bump. "Did you heal yourself?"

"A little. Didn't really stop hurting all the way. And my, ehmm, ears are ringing a little." He winced at her touch but didn't pull away.

"Come on, you should get some sleep." His head was basically limp on his neck, barely holding himself up. She figured he could sleep since he healed himself with this shadow. It must have been the symptoms that remained. "You can stay in my room, I can't really help with the stairs like Isaiah can. You will be more comfortable there, okay?" And they would get away from the mess on the floor.

Coaxing Matthew to unwrap himself took another 5 minutes. She held him under the elbow, trying to stabilize him, but they both knew he was too big for her to hold his weight, should he fall. He stumbled the few steps to her bedroom, holding onto the wall and her for support.

He basically collapsed on her favourite pillow, squeezing his eyes in a painful way that cued her in on the light. She closed the curtains on the windows and fetched a wash-basin from the bathroom, then climbed into the double bed with him.

"Hmmmm...Do I have too many minus points for vomiting to get another hug today?" Matthew mumbled sleepily, rolling to his side as she adjusted the covers over him.

"You are such an idiot," she said fondly, wiggling herself under his arm, face against his chest. It was a warm, comfortable position for her too.

"You sure Isaiah won't mind?"

Seline chuckled. "From you, he won't. My guess? He will end up sleeping here today too." She kissed the top of his forehead. "The basin is right next to you. Tell me if you feel sick again. Should I get you a painkiller?"

"Nah. Can't stomach it right now. Just stay."

It warmed something inside her that he wanted her so close, that he might have hugged her the first time for his comfort as well. Or maybe just for her. He was such a marshmellow, it was a shame it only came out when he was feeling sick.

@bellysoupset

[tickle-minion]

After the Christmas Party

What happens when you get a little too drunk at the office Christmas party and a tickle-phile is the one who brings you home? Jay is about to find out! Other than being a little kidnappy, this is SFW.

-----

With his head swimming, Jay slowly started to wake up, but he didn't know what exactly had happened, where he was, or how he got there. The last thing he remembered was having a good time at the office Christmas party and his co-worker Dan helping him into the car. He didn’t normally drink too much, but with wine and beer and hard liquor (whiskey being Jay’s favourite) everywhere and all of the senior partners encouraging everyone to enjoy themselves, Jay decided to let loose and live a little.  The pounding headache he had told him exactly how much he'd been drinking the night before.

Something was wrong, though. This wasn't his house… there was tape over his mouth… he was tied up… and his bare feet were propped up on a footstool.  Jay tried to stand up and wiggle free from the bonds but his head was still pounding and his stomach felt like he might be sick.  Just how much had he had to drink?!

"Oh, you're awake?" Jay’s coworker Dan said as he walked into the room. Jay instantly knew something was wrong: Day was just wearing an old tee shirt and a pair of boxers.

Jay tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth except for a muffled garble. As he tried to speak he realized that there was something in his mouth. His tongue pushed up against it, trying to find out just whatever it was.  It felt like it was some kind of fabric that tasted sort of salty.

"Sorry about the sock gag, I just didn't want you to scream if you woke up before I did."

Jay’s stomach rolled again.  He was tasting his own sock?  Disgusting.  Jay tried yelling through the sock in his mouth but it was useless.

Dan walked over and ran a hand across Jay’s tied and propped bare feet. Jay could feel Dan's hungry eyes taking the feet in.

"Ever since you made junior partner, I've had my eyes on you. Especially the provocative way you slip your shoes off in the office when you think no one is looking. Believe me... I noticed and I was looking."

Dan sat down beside the tied feet and took them into his hands. Jay tried to kick back, tried to fight to keep this pervert’s hands off his feet, but he couldn't save himself or do anything as Dan began massaging his feet.  Dan’s hands felt strong and confident, not the hands of someone who felt bad that he was taking advantage of a coworker in a very intimate way.

"We're going to have some fun, you and I, and if you say anything about it to anyone I'll see that you're knocked down by the office assistant so fast your head will spin, got it?"

There was nothing Jay could do. Not only was Dan his superior at work, but being tied and vulnerable like this meant that the ball was in Dan's court. With angry and defiant eyes he nodded to Dan, submitting to whatever he had planned.

"Good," Jay purred as his hands continued to grope the bound feet, massaging the broad soles and rolling the toes around between his fingers.

"I got some amazing toys I want to use on these puppies, give you a solid workout. What do you say?"

There was nothing he could do in this situation, so Jay just hung his head in defeat.

"That's a good boy, giving in like that. Makes what's going to happen to you all the easier."

Jay left the room and returned a few minutes later with a silver tray. There were all sorts of items on the tray, from hair brushes, electric toothbrushes, scrubbers, feathers, and some baby oil.  Jay wasn’t completely sure what all of this stuff was for but he had the strong suspicion he wasn’t going to like it.  He curled his toes wondering just what was in store for him and his feet.  His eyes lingered on the feathers for a moment.  Surely Dan wasn’t going to… tickle him?  Was he?  That’s not something that people actually did with feathers… was it?

"Let's see just how ticklish you are, and if you squeal nicely enough for me, maybe we'll only do this once or twice a week going forward, hmm?"

Why oh why did he ever slip his shoes off in the office?  If he knew some pervert was going to be watching him because of that he would have kept his shoes tightly on his feet.

“Just a little test tickle, what do you say?”

Dan picked up one of the hair brushes from the tray and brought it to Jay’s foot.  He teased with the brush, running just the very tips of the bristles up and down Jay’s tied soles, giving just a sneak peek of what was to come.  Jay struggled, trying to pull his feet away, but couldn’t escape.

The speed and the force of the tickling picked up.  The brush would travel up and down the bare sole.  First the brush stopped at the smooth heel, scrubbing vigorously back and forth.  This tickled more than Jay expected it would, causing the tied up young man to giggle continuously behind his sock gag.  The brush continued up and stopped at the toes this time.  The man grabbed the toes, pulled them back, and started brushing the sensitive skin right under the toes.

Jay wasn’t giggling this time.  This time, he threw his head back and started to cackle behind his sweaty sock gag.  The sensation was intense, and his legs were vibrating as he tried desperately to pull his feet away.  He tried to curl up his toes, but Dan was holding them too tightly.

Dan continued tickling Jay like this, up and down the sole, scrubbing the heel, and attacking the base of the toes.  It felt like hours had passed.  Jay was sweating in his suit, drool was dribbling out of his mouth, and tears were rolling down his cheeks.  He’d never felt so completely broken in his entire life.

Finally the brushing stopped and Jay’s entirely body relaxed.  

“Well, that was a good test tickle… what do you say we try the… harder stuff?”

Dan grabbed a long straight feather from the tray.  Jay’s eyes went wide and he started thrashing his head back and forth.  This was about to become a lot worse.

His superior brought the feather to Dan’s broad sole and started flicking with it.  It didn’t tickle as much as the brush did, but Jay could feel it.  It was this fleeting touch, just at the edge of his feet.  It felt… weird.  Unfortunately it Jay wasn’t giving the reaction that Dan wanted.

“Not too feather ticklish?  That’s fine.  Let’s try it between the toes”

The feather was suddenly flossed between his big and second toe.  Jay jumped.  Holy shit, that actually tickled.  Dan grinned and did it again, making Jay jump again in his restraints.  

“Hmm, this seems better, doesn’t it?”

Dan moved down the line, dragging the feather between Jay’s ticklish toes.  Jay tried to curl them to keep the feather out, but Dan would just grab them and force them open.  Soon Jay stopped fighting back and gave into the toe tickling.  The feather kept flossing between toes, first one foot then the other, over and over again.  Jay was laughing and trying to pull his feet away.  Jay, who always thought himself pretty tough and manly, was being reduced to a giggling and laughing mess by nothing more than a feather.

The feather kept its torment going for several minutes.  By the end of the torture Jay’s feet had started to sweat, making the feather glide even easier between his squirming toes.  Jay’s entire body slumped when the feather finally gave it’s last swipe.

“You’re doing good, kid.  You’re doing real good.  How are we feeling so far?”

Jay didn’t have the energy to fight or yell anymore.  He just hung his head and mumbled something into his sock.

Dan put away the feather and pulled up the electric toothbrush and the bottle of baby oil.  Opening the bottle, Dan held it over Jay’s feet and just let the oil dribble down over the tops of his toes, watching as it ran down.  To Jay it felt almost pleasant.  A nice cooling sensation on his hot feet.  Dan massaged his tied feet again, this time working the baby oil into the soles, covering the toes, and of course between each and every single toe.  Jay hated to admit it, but after all the torment he’d been through, this actually felt nice.  Dan must have been able to tell (probably because Jay stopped fighting and went to mush in his hands) and chuckled.

“You think this feels nice, huh?  Wait until you meet my little friend here.”

Jay watched as Dan picked up the electric toothbrush.  He turned it on and off, revving it like a manic welds a chainsaw.

“Let’s introduce you, shall we?”

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I've been feeling inclined to vent about the general concept of "substance use" and "dependency" recently for no particular reason, and it's probably just my own brain finally processing some of the things that happened to me in The Bad Times but what the hell lets go with it.

I was pretty much straight edge until my mid 20s, no alcohol, cigarettes, weed, nothing. Then I got into a series of abusive relationships, nearly died of Mystery Diseases, and a pandemic happened right after. My life went from barely getting by in the world to bouncing between constant crises overnight. I was in therapy and had been for years, I had self care tools and was using them. I was medicated for all of my diagnosed mental health needs (ADHD wasn't on the record yet, so was still unmanaged, but I was doing my best behaviorally to keep on top of shit, obviously that stopped working fast). I worked full time plus going to school part time plus working part time at my internship for a grand total of about 90 hrs per week of work/school related obligations. I lived with several other people who I worked to support financially and who I needed to also support emotionally, and I still managed to run my household for the most part with minimal support except from wifey who was also working about 60-70 hour weeks at her own job to help us make ends meet and was only barely medicated and managed herself. I genuinely don't know when I slept or rested.

The first thing I tried was weed. I used edibles to sleep without nightmares or the anxieties that would keep me up for the rare few hours I had to rest. It also helped with the constant pain I was in. I would get high as fuck on a weed brownie or a pre roll on the one day off I had each month so I didn't have to think or feel or exist because it was the only way I could find to genuinely relax anymore without worrying about the growing mountain of Life Responsibilities that I could never catch up on. Life eased a bit, and I kept doing that.

One day, I had a rare night off, and wifey was going to go out to a club with some friends. I hadn't been anywhere fun in years. I hadn't had time or money or energy. I was desperate to see people and relax and maybe sance a little. A pandemic was on, and the local clubs were having discounts like mad. We went and got shitfaced on cocktails that cost less than lunch at a diner for a round and I made out with a cute girl and I came home laughing for the first time in years. From then on, we would keep a cheap six pack of something in the fridge and every once in a while I would down 2-3 and get fucked up for a bit between that and the weed. Life felt a bit easier and I kept going.

But behind the scenes the cracks kept forming. It wasn't the substances that were causing them. And they weren't even what was making it worse. But they were letting me pretend those cracks weren't there. Letting me run from a reality I knew I couldn't fix. By the time I realized how bad things had gotten, how deep into the pit I was, I was living in a tent in the woods, cooking my dinners on a campfire with my family, throwing back weed and cheap booze like my life depended on it because god what the fuck else do you have when a creek and a rainstorm are the closest you get to a shower and your bed is a pile of blankets in a military surplus tent with all the warm bodies piled together so you don't fucking freeze at night?

I was still working full time though, and for those hours, I had to be sober. No if ands or buts about it. And I was okay with that line, even if it left me riddled with anxiety and trauma and stress 16 hours a day while I worked my doubles in the ER and came home to try and scrub the COVID off in the creek before I went back to the tent. And then a coworker asked me if I wanted to join her on a cigarette break. I did. I desperately wanted to feel normal. To chitchat and talk about nothing important, and feel the breeze on my face. So I bummed a cigarette and smoked with her. That one cigarette became 3 a day. Then 6. Then, a whole pack. A nervous habit of sucking on a cigarette or a vape whenever I needed to fidget or relax while still being sober. It's been 3 years now and I've tried to quit half a dozen times but here I am in my fucking home office pulling on a cigarette like it's my last hope of comfort.

I don't drink anymore though. My body won't let me. Blah blah allergic reactions blah blah. Fine. I kept trying for a while, allergies be damned. But it stopped being worth it. Sometimes the cigarettes aren't worth it either. I choke on every inhale and my body dry heaves like it knows I'm putting in something it doesn't want. On those days I don't smoke. I don't think there have been many days I've gone without weed. I honestly don't know what to do with myself on the days I abstain. Like I do? I can cope. I just. I'm still so tired.

The part of me that broke all those years ago and said fuck it, lets see what drugs do, is still recovering. It's still resting and healing. Some days are better than others. Some days it does fine and it says "lets fuckin rawdog the day my mans" and I do, and it's great. Other times it's so small and frail that I know if I tried I might break it again, and I just can't risk that.

I've been told before that this is dependency. Maybe even misuse. I've been told by others that this is the point. If it's helping, then let it. I don't know what the answer is. Some days I resent not being the person I was before I started using weed and cigarettes to get through the day. I've tried other things too, and they've never done much for me, so I never went back. Does that mean that I'm not "dependent" I'm "self-medicating"? Is that a good or a bad thing? Does it fucking matter? I honestly don't know. I wish it didn't feel like it mattered. I wish that I could go through my days and feel like I had more of a choice. I actually miss being able to get high lol. Like weed hasn't given me an actual high in years, it just. Helps me get through things a little better. But how much am I really willing to keep living that way? How much of my life do I *want* impacted by whether or not I can smoke or have some thc? Some days it's fine. Some days I'm bothered by it.

The thing that gets me every time though is how at every single point when I made the choice to pick up a new "substance" it was because I was desperate, overwhelmed, and completely without alternatives. I knew full goddamn well every time what I was doing. I had years of both anti-drug war knowledge and addiction/recovery knowledge in my brain and I understood that I was at my most vulnerable, I was my most at risk. That making this choice could be fine or could be life changing or could be somewhere in between and it was worth being self aware as I did it. But I just. I was so tired. I was so broken down. I just needed to rest. I needed to feel something other than the stress and fear for a while. And no one was offering me anything else that made a dent. Trust me. I tried.

I don't say this to suggest to people that Drugs Are The Answer. I genuinely don't think they are. I still wish every day I had never picked up that first cigarette. I still wish that I felt well enough to live my life without needing help to rest and recover. But I can't blame anyone who makes the choices I did. I can't doubt the feelings of need and desperation that often drive us to interact with our support tools the way we do. I've also found over the years, that it's not just "substances" that people will turn to for help with avoidance the way I did. Avoidance is so very very human, and the way I skirted around acknowledging how beyond my capacity for repair my life was getting (even while actively working to resolve those things) had more to do with mh inability to acknowledge that I was failing people I loved than what tool I was using to avoid the acknowledgement. It could just as easily have been my work, or video games, or shopping, or gardening, or anything else in the world that allowed me to isolate myself in a world that felt smaller and simpler for a while so I could take a break from problem solving the way the rest of my world was steadily crumbling around me. I chose weed, alcohol and nicotine. Other people will make other choices. But maybe we all sometimes run away from problems we realize we can't solve until one day we're backed into a corner we can't run from. Maybe that's just human. Maybe the drugs just made me feel less like shit while I ran. And maybe that's part of how I survived to make things right for myself.

I really don't know. I can't know.

What I do know is that I left the relationship that was destroying my life. I'm safe now, and wifey and I are doing much better now that our communication isn't being actively sabotaged. I'm doing much better now healthwise that the food in my home is consistently safe to eat for me and I'm not being left without any food at all on a semi-regular basis. I *am* still the primary breadwinner of the household, but it no longer feels as though I have to run the household itself on top of that, and I *am* consistently supported (encouraged even) to rest when needed, even if that is still hard for me to do. I've stopped drinking, and that does feel better. I spend less time and energy seeking substances and I *do* smoke fewer cigarettes less often even if I do still smoke sometimes. I feel happier and more stable than I think I ever have. My life is. Mostly working? And pretty good now. The cracks have been able to heal in ways that are, if not structurally sound, at least working up to it. I am fragile, but making progress. Does that mean I made the right choices? The wrong ones? Will I ever know?

I dunno comrade. But. We all do what we can, what we must, and what we can figure out. Maybe judgement and shame about all that just doesn't help.

[staratdawn]

I thought about au with blind Regulus and deaf Sirius. It is not congenital, most likely acquired after 5 years of Sirius and 4 years of Regulus at Hogwarts. Their mother's unsuccessful punishment spell hit both brothers. Total blindness forever for Regulus, too much damage to do anything about it, even magic is powerless. Sirius rolled down the stairs, hitting his head on all corners, causing serious damage to the head, including the auditory cortex. The predictions of the Black' personal doctor were positive, of course, no one was going to upset them. But the hearing does not return to Sirius in a year or two.

And this difficult for them, almost impossible to make contact, despair splashes, their psycho-emotional state is not just a light wind, it's a fucking storm, like, they never can be ok again. They need more than a one year to talk to each other again. It's been hard before, don't think they don't love each other, we all know true, and yet their family didn't anticipate the possibility of healthy communication among its members. But now it takes a lot more effort to talk. Sirius can't hear, but he can speak. Regulus can speak and hear, but cannot see. So, Sirius speaks. Sometimes Regulus answers and Sirius lip-reads, it gets better and better with the years but never perfect the meaning of some phrases is inevitably lost, but that's something they can at least handle. Sometimes Regulus writes — he remembers good how it's done, but still a little awkward, not nearly as perfect as it used to be, and yet understandable enough. They learn to use it more often. Talk more often. It is important for them not to lose connect. They seem to have lost it all their lives and only learned to fix it when it was too fucking late.This was exactly the moment when Sirius runs away from home and starts living with James. And Regulus needs time, his parents are careful with him, they no longer try to be as cruel as they used to be, mostly just words, and over the years he managed to develop a good immunity, they do not hurt as much as they could. Sirius hates himself for not being able to take Regulus. They still didn't talk back then, it was so difficult for them and Sirius couldn't just ask Regulus to come with him, he didn't believe he could protect him and felt incredibly vulnerable. But he offers in a year and Regulus agrees.

When they get back to Hogwarts, things clearly change. Honestly, even too much. Regulus has a specially trained guide dog, this is a collie named Lyra (actually, in honor of the constellation, but he did not tell anyone about it except Pandora), she is big, soft and fluffy, and she is also smart and really very strong helps him. He also has a cane inlaid with many spells, so he knows Hogwarts quite well, much better than the first years (which is a dubious achievement, but nonetheless).

Sirius is trying to cope with his condition, mostly not really knowing what to do. I'm thinking of a spell he might have found one day to help take notes, literally translate the words spoken by the professor into text (I know there's nothing like that in canon, but it would be fair if there was, and generally, I just don't care about canon, I REALLY don't care, it's there because I made it up right now). He carries around a notepad and pen so that people can write what they want to say to him, but he also often understands what they are saying by watching their lips move. He can also talk, but he can't hear himself, so it's often very loud/very quiet, he prefers to write, but in the company of marauders, he doesn't care if he seems stupid or awkward.

I think Regulus, even after losing his sight, plays the piano, it is important for him to hear and feel the keys under his fingers, it grounds him, calms him down, makes him feel whole. Sometimes it is unbearable, but more often it gets easier than worse. (As he gets older, there are days when his hands shake too much and he can't find the right keys. Then Lily kisses his temple and James puts his hands over Regulus', they play slowly, making Regulus feel more, feel integrity, pushing the keys until he's finally okay)

And sometimes their duet with Sirius is also heartbreaking. Sirius can't hear but can guide his hands, he just feels, he has enough feeling, he doesn't really like to play. He desperately wants to help Regulus. And he sees the keys, he may be his eyes.

So, speaking of marauders. Honestly, James was the first to know. I think Sirius ran away to him somewhere in the middle of summer vacation, so James went to Hogwarts already fluent in sign language and actively continuing his studies. They met Peter during that time, so he definitely found out, even if Sirius didn't want to show it, and sign language was incredibly difficult for Peter, but he tried!! (damn, he tries so hard to be tactful, I just know it, he doesn't want to offend him, he doesn't even speak in his presence, but mostly writes on a notepad to make Sirius comfortable!!!)

Remus only finds out at Hogwarts, not because Sirius doesn't want to tell him, but because Sirius feels bad and doesn't want to appear weak in front of his boyfriend, ok. In this universe, there is no prank, so they are really happy together, but Sirius's disability is very difficult, and he wants to withdraw into himself and never share his burden with anyone. But he still has to do it when they meet on the train, and it's, well, never been easy, ok? Sirius also believes that he is much more fortunate than Regulus and feels guilty because people surround him with care, it seems to him that he does not deserve it. 

I also think that Remus KNOWS sign language very well (I headcanon him with a large family, several younger and one older sister, I think one of his sisters is deaf so he had to learn sign language for her, I can talk about his sisters, in case anyone is wondering, I just love the concept of a big family where Remus is the middle child, and he is the only wizard, except for Lyall, if we are not talking about the fact that Pandora could be his sister. He also suffers from lycanthropy, and I think one of his sisters might, but that's another TALK....but, you know, he'll never be alone and his family is, well, a little wolf-family-pack. ..okay, just let me know if anyone is interested, this isn't even about Remus, I should fucking shut up) so that makes things a little easier? Except that Sirius himself needs time to learn sign language, but it's absolutely in his best interest, so he's trying so hard. Remus really tries to take care of him, he shares his notes with him before Sirius finds that spell (he's never done this before and it was never needed, but now Sirius is so grateful) and he's definitely taking the translator's position a bit with people who do not know sign language, he really is not a burden, because Sirius will never be a burden for him. Never.

And also I think that Regulus has a spell that makes the book read itself, which makes life easier, magic is beautiful. And he definitely learns to read braille later, but I don't think it's very common among wizards (he probably isn't at all. but over time his life is so closely intertwined with muggle world, he can't ignore it)

Let's talk about girls! I like to think that Lily was fluent in sign language before that, as if she seems like someone who will know it, or at least try to learn it. Mary and Marlene absolutely don't know but they are really good friends so they try. And Marlene is in love with being able to write constant notes in a notebook (gives atmosphere. She puts Sirius notes between textbooks, very, very many notes in a day, they become less over time, but she was never going to throw constant gossip with her bestfriend, thanks, even deafness will not interfere with her). Mary also uses her notebook to write for Sirius when she wants to say something.

I also think that Lily absolutely cares about Regulus (platonically or romantically, your choice), but she doesn't know what she can do for him, she just goes with him all the time, almost seems to blend in with the Slytherins. She reads books to him aloud because he likes how soothing her voice sounds, he actually has an amazing memory, he quotes something from what he has read before or from what he heard from Lily.

Evan and Barty don't know how to act at first. But over time it gets easier. Like there's no problem putting things back where they belong so that Regulus can move around the room with ease, at which point they're very clean. They try to spend a lot of time with him, sometimes it's even annoying, he can say it, but honestly he is grateful.

(also Lyra is absolutely delighted with Barty and Pandora, when Regulus is in bed and she doesn't help him anymore, she often goes to Barty's to get her helping strokes)

Dorcas is so excited when she finds out about this, she is actually so mad at his family. One of her best friends will never fucking see anything else because of his family (Regulus never told them the reason but they know. They all know). She is very afraid of how unsafe he can be in his house, but she obviously does not show it, it would be inappropriate and not quite in her character. She tries to be tactful and act like nothing has changed. And she's also very supportive, actually, she's just not clingy like Barty and Evan, for example, she's just expressing help in the little things, I would say. Her help is usually silent, but also surprisingly eloquent.

I didn't say much about Pandora, I'm sorry. They have an amazingly cute duo and an interesting way of getting around, when Regulus assumes his animagus form, he is also blind, but he is literally cat, so she often carries him around in her arms to his destination. It's faster. Oh, and she was the one who helped him find the spell to read!!

Also, I think Sirius's hearing will start to recover at some point, but it will never be good enough, it's just... some sounds, more sounds than total silence. I didn't mention hearing aids before and I don't think they're common among wizards, but he'll definitely use them when they get out in muggle London and, well, it won't give him perfect hearing, but it's a lot better than nothing...

(little bonus: when Sirius wants to be kissed, but he doesn't want to write about it in a notebook or make gestures because it will upset the mood, he puts his finger on his lips or on his forehead or on his cheek, my boy just wants kisses. And he spreads his arms out to the side when he's waiting for a hug and doesn't want to initiate it first. when alone with Remus, sometimes he just reaches out his palms. Oh, and he claps his hands when he tries to get someone's attention. It's easier for him not to talk than to talk so he keeps the conversations to a minimum)

art: likeafunerall

[roseapov]

Room arrest

WLW, Ruby x F!Reader

Tw: Obsession themes, mentions of murder, room arrest, manipulation, guilt tripping, cheating

Povtober 2023, Day 4 [Masterlist]

Ruby's only solace, a person whose soul possessed the body of Freya Van Furiana, the novel female lead, just as she possessed the body of Rudbeckia De Borgia, the novel villainess.

You both found out about it rather accidentally. By accident I mean you heard Ruby singing a Taylor Swift song 'Wildest Dreams'. After that, you had to take your shot and risk it all, but in the end it was all worth it, as you made your gorgeous bestest friend.

From that day forth one could wonder, how did you both got so close? After all, to those who didn't know the whole story, it all seemed as if you two just magically decided to be the closest of the close, like you know each other all your life, which kinda displeased Ellen. Which was partially true, after all you won't find a better person to talk to than the one who's in the same situation as you.

Ruby had a really hard time adapting to the ways of the north, so different from her 'home' ways. Yet there you were, guiding her through every step of the way.

Also don't forget making seducing Izek easier, by setting them the right scenery and without the original Freyas stunts.

Yet even when this feared Duke of the North, Izek Van Omerta finally fell in love with Ruby, which brought you both a peace of mind, the Duchess always felt bad when he showed her love and affection, as she had fallen for you.

When she found out, that your new family was abusive, she boiled with anger- No, shefumed with fury. That was the first time, when you felt completely terrified by your innocent friend.

Not to mention that the first words she said after your revelation was an order to get rid of your family's heads, with the exception of your dear brother Lorenzo.

After a few heads rolling and your distance to her, she tried to guilt trip you. She did so much for you, why are you so.. ungreateful! She murdered people for you, the ones who wronged you, and yet you're still avoiding her!

All she ever did was to make your life easier, like you did to hers! She just returned the favor and yet you're making it seem like she did something bad.

Ruby's lovesick lover instantly saw that change in his wife, her desperation. He waited, waited for her to open up to him, yet when she never did he decided to finally confront her in their shared bedroom, much to her's dissatisfaction, as she'd rather share a bed with you.

And that's when she bursts out in tears, screaming her frustrations out into Izek's arm, crying about how you're avoiding her, giving her cold stares, which you don't, and keeping a huge distance, while pretending you don't know her.

Next thing you know, you're forbidden from leaving your room and contacting anyone other than Ruby. She was the only one to communicate with, eat your meal with and the one to spend time with.

And you couldn't do anything about it, after all you lived in the Van Omerta's Household, where Ruby was the Duchess, and her husband, Izek Van Omerta the Duke.

You really should've expected that, after all there is not a single thing this man won't do for his wife. The consequences of your actions are gonna follow you for a long time, in your room with the reason for your 'arrest' always smiling happily by your side.

AAAAA RUBY'S SO GORGEOUS AND FOR WHAT?? There is so little works for this fandom, which saddens me greatly. Please behold the beautiful Rudbeckia De Borgia from the manhwa 'How to win my husband over' (100% recommend).

I hope you enjoyed my work and see you soon!💛

~roseapov

[xxlady-lunaxx]

What did I do..? | {KokuZan}

Theme: Angst

Note: Ignore the picture i can't find any kokuzan ones ;-;

TW: suicide-

ALSO if anything doesn't make sense it's bc i was too lazy to write out the AU so, sorry..

Reincarnated everyone! (basically it's modern AU; reincarnated hhahahoksmvfewoifkmsssddddffffffffuck.)

As a child, Muzan was very easily manipulated. He believed everyone deserved second chances and said, whenever someone did something they shouldn't have—no matter how drastic the consequences—that everybody made mistakes. Which, as you can see, is quite a naïve way of thinking when it comes to reality. 

What's more, Muzan tried to be very helpful. No matter what anyone asked, it was almost guarenteed to be that he would say yes. 

You could ask him to do the most far-fetched thing that any sane person would say they couldn't do and he would most likely say, "I'll do my best to achieve that for you."

So, he was often—very often—asked to do things for others. And he let them, not seeing anything bad about it. He only saw that he was making it easier for others to live and so he continued on doing this.

The only exception to his agreeing was his friend—more specifically Michikatsu, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu and his many brothers, Gyokko, Gyutaro, Daki, Nakime and Kaigaku. They were the some of the only people who cared—truly—about Muzan and who constantly protected him as much as they could from people who tried to use him to their own will. 

Muzan didn't notice any of this though. But he did know that they were people who would stick by him no matter what—something he was absolutely grateful for and told them everyday. 

Michikatsu—also known as Kokushibo within their circle of friends—being the eldest always treated all of them as his younger siblings, telling them to do this and that and making sure they were intact and alright. 

All but Muzan whom he treated more as a very close 'friend.' 

Everybody else could clearly see the favortism written all over Muzan's face whenever Kokushibo was around, and they let it be. 

Muzan didn't notice that either, however.  

Now, as the time went on, things began to change. 

True, Muzan had never been in the center of attention for selfless reasons and had always only been because people wanted to take advantage of him, but now a rumour had started passing by and Muzan started getting dirty looks from people he didn't even know.

Muzan grew scared to be outside at all as someone would hiss at him that he was a horrible man, that he'd done nothing but bad. 

He didn't understand.

And neither did his friends because they had never known Muzan to do anything bad. 

One day, one particular person had gone up to Muzan. She looked stern and very mad, dragging two other women with her. 

"Do you remember me, Kibutsuji?" she said, glaring into his eyes. She was shorter than him, looking to be almost 5 feet whilst Muzan was at 5"6 at around the age of 16. 

"No...?" he said uncertainly. 

The girl then made one of the other people stand in front of him. They looked to be siblings, this new woman appeared to be older. She had pink eyes that Muzan decided would probably looking pretty if it weren't for the fact that she was looking at him as if he was going to kill her. 

"What about her? Do you remember her? This is my sister Kanae," the first girl said, peeking from around Kanae's shoulder. "You and your little Uppermoon friends killed her." 

Muzan looked around for some help but his friends were out somewhere and all around them were only people whispering and glaring at him. "She's alive though..." he pointed out, averting his eyes. What were they talking about?

"Oh really," the girl said. "Listen, both of us were Hashira in our past lives. Both of us died from the same demon. From the same demon you created. You had millions of people killed just so you could be immortal!!" She placed a hand on her hip, her eyes searing into his head. "You are a monster. You deserve to go to hell." 

The last girl who hadn't been been introduced was fidgeting with a coin, but at this she slipped around the other two and said, her voice both equally quiet and angry, "I hope you life is it's own hell for all you ever did to all of us."

Muzan backed away against the wall. "I didn't do that! I... don't know what you're talking about! I swear! You have got me mixed up!!" he said, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. He'd only ever helped people! What did they mean?

"Hmm, maybe you've got it all mixed up," the first girl said, letting her hair down and showing him her clip which was in the shape of a butterfly. "Look at this. And go find your blond friend—Douma. Tell him if butterflies have any sort of significance to him. I'm sure they do because you turned him into a demon. And then you let him go and eat so, so many humans. The butterfly should be a reminder to him of who killed him." 

Muzan blinked. "Douma? Douma would never do that! He's very kind!" he insisted, crossing his arms. They could talk bad about him all they wanted but now about his friends!! 

"Hmm, kind? Not a word I think of when I think of him. But maybe he was. Maybe he was kind and you turned him to the opposite," the girl said, giving him a cruel smile before stalking away, her hands clasped around the two other girls'. 

The whispers around him grew and someone shouted, "I heard he was a cannibal!!"

Muzan shook his head. "I wasn't! I'm not!"

"My grandfather said his mother's father's mother had fought one of his demons!"

"I don't have demons," Muzan pleaded. 

"I heard he called himself a demon king," someone else said. 

The people seemed to rise up all at once, shouting incoherent threats to him.

They closed in on him and Muzan cowered, feeling terrified. What if he had done all of that? People were to be trusted and he knew that they wouldn't lie about this, right? They must be telling the truth... What if he was such a horrible person after all?

A hand clasped around his wrist and he looked up, dread filling him for a split second. But then Kokushibo's familiar face met his gaze and he stood, being dragged out of the crowd quickly.

"Muzan!!" Kokushibo called back between quick breaths as they ran off. "Are you okay?"

Muzan thought for a moment as they ran and didn't answer until they stop. "Do you think I'm a horrible person like they said I am?" he asked, his voice meek.

Kokushibo narrowed his eyes. "Do I think?" he asked, sounding furious.

Muzan closed his eyes, scared of a reaction. He'd never felt so small before.

"Of course I don't!! You're my best friend! You would never do all that shit!" Kokushibo said.

Muzan opened his eyes to see his friend looking worried and exasperated. "You... don't think so?"

"No!! And even if all what they said is true, it's definitely not about you. They probably got the wrong person." Kokushibo sighed, hugging him tightly. "You worry me, Muzan. Maybe you should just stay at home."

Muzan's cheeks flushed at the physical contact—lately, something about Michikatsu had been making him quite... happy. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice muffled by Kokushibo's shoulder.

"Anytime. Want to go to the library? No one's allowed to shout there so we can have some peace and quiet," Kokushibo said, grinning.

Muzan nodded. "Okay."

~~~

At the library, Kokushibo started roaming the shelves looking for books he might want to read.

Muzan, on the other hand, couldn't get his mind over what had happened earlier. About everyone shouting at him, that is. Not with... with Kokushibo.

He immediately shook his head. No thinking about that now. 

He searched through the rows of books until he saw the sign titled, "History."

Here he might find some answers. If he'd done something like this before and had caused people to react like that there must be even a little information about it somewhere here.

After searching through the books, finding a lot of things about everything he didn't want to know about, he found a book with a paper taped onto it that said, in hastily written letters, "May be proclaimed as History and not Historical Fiction." which was interesting enough for Muzan and he quickly took out the book.

He sat down on the floor, not really caring about anything, as he opened the book.

On the spine of the book cover, there were the words, "Demon Slayer" on it, along with the name of the author. (Koyoharu Gotouge?!)

There was a little information over the book and how it was supposedly written based off the character 'Tanjiro' who had actually been real but how the editor had said it must've been simply fiction. It said other things about the author as well that Muzan decided to simply ignore.

He opened the first page, noting that it was a chapter book—quite large as well. He flipped through a couple pages, stopping quite suddenly when he saw a picture somewhere. He went back and nearly gasped as the picture was of a man that looked... almost exactly like him. There were words under it saying it was an illustration of... Muzan Kibutsuji.

He turned his gaze to the words and skimmed the page in a panic.

And there he was, Muzan Kibutsuji. It had to be him. His scent was overly powering and bringing in a deep aura that made me shake from deep in my bones. I lunged forward, grabbing his arm as I shouted, "Muzan Kibutsuji!"

Muzan turned around and his piercing red eyes glared at me for half a second. But then he turned fully and I saw he was carrying a child. A little girl. A human girl. "Dear? What's this about?" a woman asked, a hand on Muzan's shoulder as she peeked around him.

Two humans. They were both humans, I just knew it. But he... he was a demon. There was no mistakening the smell he had, was he... He was hiding amongst the humans.

(Ermmmm pretend this is the part of Asakusa when Tanjiro first meets Muzan LMAO- I didn't know how to write it since kny is a manga :'>)

Muzan's eyes lingered on his name for a minute. He was real, no? This was real.

He skipped more pages towards the end and saw his name again. In this part, he appeared to be fighting the Main Character and the people named 'Hashira.' 

Hashira.

Wasn't that what the girl from earlier had said?

Standing suddenly, Muzan held the book tightly to his chest and walked as quickly as he could, his eyes searching for Kokushibo.

When he found him, he said, his voice low and scared, "Koku... I'm a villain."

Kokushibo gave him a perplexed look as Muzan handed him the book. "What? Please don't tell me the people's words have gotten into your head. You're not a villain, you're-"

Muzan didn't necessarily know if he wanted to know the end of the sentence or not and his cheeks flushed as he said hurridly, "Just read some of this."

Kokushibo opened the book at random, still looking confused. He looked down at the page and read a couple words before he looked up at Muzan, his eyes wide. "No, uhm. I'm sure it's just a coincidence it's your name," he said, looking very much concerned.

"It's not!! It's me! There are some pictures in this as well, see?" Muzan said, flipping a couple pages and pointing to a picture of himself transforming into what appeared to be him as a child into an adult. "It's me."

Kokushibo stared at it for a long while, then said, "Oh."

"It's me," he repeated. "Koku... everything anyone had said is true. It's all true. I'm... a monster."

Kokushibo looked up at that, putting the book aside. "Listen, you're not a monster, okay? You're Muzan, the boy who helps everyone even when he shouldn't! You're everything but what they've said. You're not whatever this book is lying about," he insisted, his hands clasped around Muzan's shoulders. 

"But I-" 

"I won't accept any 'but's' when they're not true at all!" Kokushibo interrupted. "Now, clearly the library isn't where we should be. We can go home now, I'll make you some food."

~~~

Muzan's eyes traced Kokushibo's actions as he cooked. He wondered what it would be like for his friend to cook for him as a boyfrie- 

No, no, they could never date. Not when Kokushibo was already getting enough hate as it was. 

Muzan sighed, leaning his head on his arms.

"You alright?" Kokushibo asked, placing a bowl of ramen on the table.

"I'm fine," Muzan mumbled, picking up the spoon he was handed. "Thanks."

Kokushibo nodded and sat across from him. 

They ate in silence for a while, both consumed in their thoughts.

As Muzan ate, he stared at the noodles in his bowl intently. He wondered if anything would be as it used to be again. He really wished it could be. He really hated this. Hated it too much and wanted to badly for it to be over. Not for himself, no that would be selfish of him, rather for his friends. And his family. He knew it wasn't easy for them either, constantly trying to help him when they should just let him die. It wasn't like he'd been a good person anyways. He had been horrible. He'd killed so many people just so he could be immortal? Wow. 

The door opened suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts. 

Kaigaku strode in followed by Gyutaro, both looking rather beaten up but wearing triumphant smiles on their faces.

Kokushibo and Muzan stood at the same time and rushed over to them, concerned. 

"What happened?" Kokushibo asked as Kaigaku batted his worried hand away.

"Nothing, nothing. We were only teaching some people talking bad about Muzan here a lesson," Kaigaku said, swerving around them and plopping onto Muzan's chair. "Hey, you finishing this? Can I have it? I'm starving."

Muzan nodded slowly, losing his appetite. "You shouldn't be getting into fights deliberately..." he fussed. "Especially for me."

Gyutaro waved him off. "It's fine, they're liars anyways," he said, grinning and stealing Kokushibo's bowl, grabbing a new spoon. 

"Hey, that's mine!!" Kokushibo whined. 

"They're not liars," Muzan mumbled as Kokushibo went to chase Gyutaro.

The other three froze and stared at him. "What?" they asked, almost simutaneously. 

"They're not liars," he repeated. "It's all true, all what they said."

Kaigaku raised an eyebrow. "Is this your attempt to convince us that we shouldn't be friends with you because it'll cause trouble for us?" he asked, his spoon raised half way to his mouth.

Actually, that was what he was trying to do.

Muzan hesitated.

Kaigaku sighed, dropping his spoon and splashing some of the soup onto the table. "Drop that, it's seriously annoying. And you'd have to kill me to make me stop being your friend," he said. 

The word kill reverberated(?..) in Muzan's mind and he flinched. "But that's just it! I killed so many people in my past." 

Gyutaro gave him a look. "They're lying."

"They're not," Muzan whispered. He looked up, his eyes glazing over the worried faces of his friends. They didn't deserve having to deal with im. They deserved better. "You guys can go home... Take the food if you want. I'll see you later," he said, basically dismissing them.

Fuck, if he was going to be that rude he was better off dead anyways. 

Muzan didn't miss the way they looked at each other with worried gazes before nodding and getting ready to leave.

Gyutaro and Kaigaku filed out the door but Kokushibo stayed back. 

"Hey, uhm... Please don't do anything reckless, Muzan. If you need to speak to someone, I'm only one call away. I'll be here if you need me to be," he murmured, hugging Muzan tightly before closing the front door behind him.

And then Muzan was alone, feeling like he could feel the imprint of Kokushibo's arms around him still. He wished Kokushibo hadn't left. But it was better if he had, really.

Making up his mind, Muzan went up to his room and got his notebook and a pencil.

He wrote down quickly, writing a letter to each of his friends and his family. Once he finished, he read them all through, making sure that he hadn't made any mistakes and that he'd listed enough things to show that he did appreciate every little part of them.

He signed them all and folded them up into makeshift envelopes, taping them all shut. 

He went and slumped onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow. He would deliver them tomorrow.

~~~

The next day, as he'd promised himself, he went to his friend's houses, handing them the letter and telling them to read it in a few days time—his birthday, actually. 

They didn't really think much of it, especially since Kokushibo was the only one who knew his birthday and he probably didn't remember anyways. 

Muzan wouldn't have minded that, after all it didn't matter whether or not Kokushibo remembered.

By the time he opened the letter, it would be too late.

~~~

The next few days passed rather quickly and Muzan found himself in a sort of daze as he continued on. He was waiting for the last day, the day he could finally let his friends live in peace.

He found his most battered clothes—deciding his better ones could be given to people who needed them. He didn't need to wear his best clothes if he would just be wasting them by dying in them. 

He went out walking, ignoring all the stares he recieved. He had left a letter on his bed in case anyone bothered to look there. Solely a letter of thanks to his family—he'd already written them letters individually but he'd felt it wasn't enough.

It was early morning when he'd set out and so most people were asleep, although the occasional person was around. But when he finally arrived, the sun was already half way up.

He had to hurry, he didn't want them to read the letters before it was true.

He waded into the water, trembling at the coldness that hit his skin. 

No. He had no right to be cold when he'd made people suffer before. 

He clenched his teeth together and continued into the water, nearly tripping several times before he made it to the point that the water nearly reached his mouth. He held his head up high and bounded forward cautiously.

The water rose to his mouth and he could barely keep it from his nose as he started treading water, keeping himself upright.

He turned back to the town he'd grown up in, bobbing up long enough to murmur, "I'm sorry," before he closed his eyes and mouth, slipping under the water.

The cool water slipped around Muzan and he could feel it soaking into his body. He gave himself a couple seconds to change his mind before he let out a breath and opened his mouth, letting the water flow into his nose as well.

He resisted the urge to go back up, though it pained him to. He'd chosen this specifically because it would be the least messy—his body would just float out into the ocean or sink or something, and probably disintigrate eventually—and because it would still be painful to himself. He deserved more pain but he didn't know how else he'd do it since he wasn't particularily strong. Not now. 

He used to be. And he deserved every form of torture he'd ensued(the fact that i don't rlly know what this word is-) over everyone... and more.

And so, as Muzan felt himself slipping out of consciousness as the water flowed into him, he thought of everyone he ever knew—whether the experiences with them were pleasant or not—and thanked them. He apologized over and over as he slipped away from the world of the living.

~~~

Kokushibo was smiling to himself as he ate his breakfast, excited for today.

"Why are you so happy?" Yoriichi asked skeptically. 

He said nothing and continued eating, wondering how he might ask out Muzan.

He'd been planning for some time now and had decided, finally, to ask him out. Especially since it was Muzan's birthday. 

He felt that he wanted him to have the best day today since every other day had been absolute shit. And besides, he figured Muzan would say yes. He'd noticed him blushing around him so constantly. 

Yoriichi leaned on the table, looking annoyed. "By the way, are you going to open that letter Kibutsuji gave you? I heard he gave them to all of his friends," he commented, nodding to himself. "I overheard him telling you to open it today. Or are you smiling because of the letter?"

Kokushibo hadn't, in fact, opened it yet. He'd actually kinda forgotten about it in all his plans. "Right!" he said, abandoning his breakfast going back to his room.

Yoriichi sighed and watched him run upstairs. "He's in love, isn't he," he said to himself, grumbling.

Kokushibo opened the letter cautiously, noting how the paper looked a bit smudged with ink.

His eyes landed on the first words, smiling to himself as he was met with Muzan's handwriting. Willing himself to read it slowly and not only skim through it, he started down the letter, his smile wavering on his face for a while. But as he reached the middle of the paper, it slowly slipped away forming a frown in it's place. The frown deepened to a look of sheer horror and he dropped the letter as his eyes consumed the last word. 

He turned abruptly and ran back down, ignoring Yoriichi's questioning looks as he harshly pulled on his shoes and ran out the door in a panic.

Yoriichi glared at him. "What now? Has he gone to confess his love to him?" he said, sighing.

He went upstairs and picked up the letter which looked a bit crumpled at the bottom. He skimmed through it then placed it on the table. "Muzan is a fucking idiot," he said, following his brother's tracks downstairs and out the door.

~~~

Kokushibo knocked furiously at Muzan's door and the fact of a devestated woman met his. She was Muzan's mother. 

"Is... Muzan...?" Kokushibo whispered, dread swimming in his stomach.

She looked down. "He's... I think he left home early. He left a note on his bed... And he gave us each one a couple days ago," she mumbled, lifting a paper. It clearly said something different than Kokushibo's but he figured it had some sort of thanks and then apologies and then explanations as he glanced at it. 

His face fell and his arms wrapped around his stomach. "He's dead?" he said, his voice coming out cracked.

Muzan's mother flinched at that but Kokushibo was too preocupied to notice. Muzan was dead.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he turned, numb inside.

Yoriichi gave the woman an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for you loss, Mrs.Kibutsuji. I'll... take my brother now," he said pulling Kokushibo away.

~~~

Kokushibo found himself in a park sitting next to Yoriichi who was glaring at the ground.

"Yorii?" he said hoarsely. 

Yoriichi glanced at him. "Hm?"

"Why did he die?"

He sighed. "He was worrying too much about you, I guess."

"But why? He had only to worry about himself! He didn't have to worry about me—us—anyone but himself! He was getting the threats. He was getting all of the hate and yet... he did this for us?? He didn't say once in the whole letter that he died because he couldn't handle it for himself anymore! He said it all because he was worried about the lashback on us!! He was worried about us when he should've worried about himself!!" Kokushibo spat, glaring at the ground. 

"Michi, he was a selfless fuck in this time. He used to be... otherwise, but he changed, I suppose." Yoriichi looked at his brother with a look of pity that had nothing to do with Muzan. "But he's gone and you can't change that or the reason for it."

"No!! He can't have died!!" Kokushibo looked up. "I can't let him die!" he decided, standing abruptly.

Yoriichi stood as well and his voice came out more of a command, "Kokushibo. I want you to sit down."

At the nickname—the name Michikatsu had heard most of from Muzan, he felt himself break. He sat down and Yoriichi stood in front of him with a stern look. 

"He's gone and you cannot change that. You can't change the fact that he was who he was. I need you to think about it. Just accept it. I don't care how hard it will be, but you have to accept it. You'll just pain yourself more if you don't." Yoriichi's eyes were narrowed in a glare but when his brother started to cry, his gaze softened. He wrapped his arms around MIchikatsu, feeling that he couldn't bear him to cry over so dead person. 

Michikatsu sobbed into Yoriichi's hug, letting himself pour out. "I was going to tell him I loved him," he said between hiccups. "I was... I was going to..." 

"Shh," Yoriichi murmured, "don't talk until you're ready."

And it was quite a few minutes until he was ready, but when he was, he rubbed at his eyes and looked up at his brother. 

"Today was his birthday," Michikatsu mumbled. "He... on his birthday. I'm sure he did that on purpose."

Yoriichi gave him a sympathetic look. "Perhaps he did. But we will never know. Why don't you... invite your friends over to our house? I'm sure they'll need some help through this as much as you do. Take yourselves through the process together, at least," he suggested.

Michikatsu had never known his brother to give Muzan any sort of proper acknowledgement and at that, he was surprised. But he nodded and stood, pretending not to notice all the people around them staring.

"Alright... Will you help me call them?" 

Yoriichi nodded. "Of course."

~~~

Dear Koku,

Or Michikatsu? Kokushibo? What do I call you? 

I always wanted to call you my lover.

I know it's quite sudden, but I really love you. I have hoped against hope that one day I could tell you. But I couldn't tell you when everybody was hating you for being my friend—and I feared their reaction if you were dating me. If you did like me, of course. 

But there was a reason I said nothing, and I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable knowing I've been crushing on you for a while now though you may not like me in that way at all.

I just found myself so deeply in love with you all the time and you were most likely one of the main reasons I've been able to make it quite so far in my life. 

I always loved how you were. How you act, how you talk, how you walk... everything. You were always just so beautiful to me. I'm sure others see you like this as well. How could they miss such and amazing person? 

I adore you with all my heart and my being and my mind. I want to stay here with you forever but I know that would only bring pain to you for being seen with me. I know you don't want to be targetted for knowing me as much as I don't want you to be hated on because I love you.

Yes... I love you. Too much for my heart to handle sometimes. You make me so happy and I want to live so much longer with you by my side.

But I can't.

I can't live, Koku. I want you, and everyone else, to be content. If me being dead brings happiness to people, then why not give them a time to be happy? 

I know how much you'd blame yourself for this though it was purely my own decision, so I need you to know that everything you've done for me has made me ever the most happiest person alive. I need you to know that you're worth everything, every breath, every smile, every little moment. So please keep living for me. Please don't blame yourself.

Make a life you can live in happiness with me gone now. Make a life you can grow up as someone known as the amazing Koku and not the Person Who Made Friends with Kibutsuji. Please be happy for... for anything you love. 

You're very dear to me, and I love you, Kokushibo. I love you so, so much. 

I promise to think of you till the very end.  

You may not see me anymore, but I promise that I'll be watching you. I'll make sure your life goes as heavenly as possible because you are heaven. You're the greatest person to exist. 

I love you, Michikatsu Tsugikuni.

I love you.

In hopes of your well being and greatest happiness, Muzan Kibutsuji.

{Word count: 4825}

I thought I had not motivation

Ig i lied to myself (my motivation always tends to come when i have to finish my hw the same day!!)

ngl this was both depressing to write and fun

and i hate it but i love it yk? 

[mishapocalyse]

hii!!🧸🎀 oooh i hav a Christmas request my fwiend!! n ohkey i know iz sofft n vry silleee n very dumm but what about sumthin where female reader iz shy n doesn like 2 say much n she only bakes stuff 4 people she likes n she decides 2 bake gingerbread cookies espesh 4 soldier boy🥺🍪🎄thmku bby!!⭐

Christmas Cookies//Baked With The Hope You'd Notice

Description: You were the shy girl that had taken in the Boys and let them set up shop within your home. When Soldier Boy had joined the team, you decide to make cookies for him.

The man with a sweet tooth.

Pairings: Soldier Boy x Shy! Reader

Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning; None

Note: Sweet tooth Christmas--*eats up* thank you.

Slaving away in the kitchen, you had taken the time to yourself to bake cookies. It was a hobby of yours, especially around the holiday's.

Wearing a Christmas sweater and a pair of sweatpants with the normal fuzzy socks and slippers, you pushed the pans of cookies into the oven. While you turned to seat yourself at the kitchen table to continue reading the latest book you had buried yourself into.

It was not often you would be baking the amount of cookies you were at this time. However, Butcher and the Boys had just been amazing to you. Super helpful in keeping you safe as well as as around the house. Chores were easier with them around.

And you also had your eyes on Soldier Boy.

He had been aloof, as you were too shy to really make a move and tell the man how you felt. So in spite of your issues, you used your feelings into baking a batch of cookies for them all.

The oven and timer both simultaneously dinged, alerting you to get up to check them. Closing your book, you hurried back to the oven, oven mitts ready on your hand. The scent of cinnamon and gingerbread filling the house.

---

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas~"

The music filled your home while you lit a few candles, switching on the tree. You bent down to start the fireplace, lighting it up. You heard heavy boots walk into the living rom and then come to a halt.

You turned to see Soldier Boy standing there, his face calm. As he glanced around the room, the rest of the others coming in to stop, all amazed at how you had decorated.

Standing up from the fireplace you wiped your hands on the apron, and smiled softly.

"Oi, you have outdone yourself, lass." Butcher exclaimed, shrugging off his boots by the front door.

"Did you cook, Y/N?" Hughie asked.

You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck and nod, motioning over to the dining table.

"Holy shit, Y/N you did not have to do this." Hughie added, taking off his coat.

Your eyes met Soldier Boy's eyes as everyone had begun to sit down around the table. You smile and began to move upstairs.

"Aren't you eating?" MM looked at you as you shook your head, urging them to eat.

---

"Have yourself a Merry little Christmas~"

Soldier Boy was seated in the recliner when you had gone back downstairs for a midnight snack.

"You're up late, sweetheart." You practically jumped ten feet into the air when you heard his voice.

"I'm getting a snack. Sorry." You mumbled.

"What was that?" He asked, leaning forward.

You had to hide your face. Although you had seen men without their shirts on before, Soldier Boy was an exception. You were embarrassed, much so that you didn't even notice that he had moved from the recliner and was now leaning against the wall right next to you.

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you." He bent down.

"I-I'm getting a snack." Your face flushed, as he hummed.

"Same here. Smelled something sweet but couldn't find it." He said, as you followed behind him.

He pressed his back into the counter while watching you stand onto a chair and pulled something from on top of the fridge. You turned back to him, shoving a bag into his arms.

"What the hell?" He murmured, inspecting the cookies in his hands.

"These for me?" You nodded, playing with a strand of string hanging off of your sweater.

"Well can't eat them all by myself. Mind grabbing us some milk and share these with me?" He offers.

You nod again, turning away to gather the milk and cups. You heard him unraveling the bag, and him grabbing a paper plate from the bottom drawer. Turning back to him you had noticed that Soldier Boy had put some of his cookies on a plate, the other hand tugged on your sweater as he pulled you back into the living room.

The fireplace still burned bright, and the Christmas music still played. He plopped into the recliner and pulled you into his arms, earning a soft squeal from you.

He chuckled.

"That's cute." Your face reddened, while he crunched on some the cookies.

"And these are fucking great, sweetheart." He laughed.

You shushed him. "People are asleep." You placed your hands onto his mouth, trying to hush him up.

He mumbled something but was muffled under hands. When you removed them he repeated himself.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I don't think they'll see much." He laughed, taking a sip of the glass of milk. Soldier Boy then proceeded to shove a whole cookie into his mouth, hearing you laugh for the first time around him.

He smiled, watching your eyes light up when you bit into your own cookie.

O Holy Night began to play on the playlist from earlier, which gave you a sliver of confidence, leaning your head on his shoulder. Soldier Boy glanced down at you, noticing your eyes grow heavy. Soon enough, he heard the soft breathing of you sleeping on him. He couldn't help himself but to remove the glass from your hands, placing everything on the table next to the recliner, pulling the blanket from the back of the chair to cover you both.

You buried your face into his neck, as he tucked his chin onto your head.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Sooooo... I've had a thought for a while. How awesome would it have been if they had let Colin Morgan keep actual his Irish accent to remind ppl that he wasn't originally from Camelot? Like, maybe it becomes subtler as the seasons go on but it's always there and when he gets tired or angry the lilt would come out FULL FORCE and ppl that didn't know or forget would be like, yo wtf???

(Headcanon Masterlist) (Full Masterlist)

Ok so I rarely answer asks as soon as I see them but

Anon

I DEDICATE AT LEAST HALF AN HOUR OF EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY THINKING ABOUT MERLIN WITH AN ACCENT!!!!

Like.... I'm turning this into a headcanon set because I need to think about this right now (if someone else wants to expand it that's fine, or if it's popular enough, I'll add it to the next List update).

ANYWAY!!!

Say he's not actually from Essetir, but Ireland (from research I think it was called Hibernia during the medieval ages, or maybe Alba? I'm not sure, so I'll just stick with Ireland), and Balinor ran a little further afield before meeting Hunith, and then returning once things had settled down to live in that skanky cave, so he can keep an eye on how Camelot was doing. Hunith and Merlin travel to Essetir when Merlin is maybe twelve or so?? So the accent and customs (and even the language) is like... heavily embedded. (To cover plot holes... uh... Gaius is also Irish, but travelled over with... relatives(?) when he was so young that he doesn't have an accent, or even really any memories of home. He has however visited and been visited by his sister enough to have a good relationship with her, and they exchanged letters regularly before and after she moved to Essetir. There. Don't think about it too much.)

HOWEVER!! When he moves to Camelot, he covers it up, because Camelot already hates Bastards (check), Sorcerers (double check) and also Gaels (check again). So to make his life easier, he gives himself a generic Essetirian/Camelot accent, and no one really notices, Maybe he has a bit of a lilt here and there, but people chalk it up to him spending lots of time with a diverse set of people, and/or maybe just being a country bumpkin. The lilt definitely comes out more when he's angry, the angrier he is the stronger it is, but, what the majority of Merlin's friends don’t know, is that they've never really seen him truly angry. Annoyed, frustrated maybe, a little pissed off, but not properly angry. Not for the first few years at least, so again, no one really notices.

Sometimes he rants to himself under his breath in Gaels, more so when he's with Gaius because it's not like the guy doesn't already know, even if he can't actually understand (Gaius does mourn the loss of his heritage sometimes, especially because, when delirious, Merlin's accent comes back full force, and Gaius can't understand a word he's saying).

Anyway. I do have this scenario in my head of some poor page running into the Throne room all "Oh CHRIST, My Lord, there's a woman in the courtyard who claims to have killed Morgause and rescued Morgana!! BUT!!! She says she'll only speak to Myrddin??" And the whole room is in uproar and Merlin just rolls his eyes at them and goes "What does she look like?", at the description he just goes "Oh shit" except in Gaels and runs out. All the gang follow to see him embracing this woman and speaking fast Gaels to her. She's introduced as his sister or an old childhood neighbour/friend or something. She couldn't give less of a shit about Camelot's anti magic laws if she TRIED, and fully admits to defeating the two witches with magic, because she herself is also a witch, and basically dares Arthur to do something abut it whilst Merlin despairs. Once the shock passes, someone, probably Gwaine, just goes "Hey, Merls, what's with the accent?? And the name??" and the woman just raises her eyebrow and goes "Aye, Merls, what's with the accent and the name?" And he has to admit that he's Irish and his real name is Myrddin (I know it's actually Welsh but let’s pretend just for now) and talks in his normal accent and everyone just... blue screens.

At least three times a day for the next few weeks, if not months, he has to explain the "new" accent to friends whom he hasn't spoken to since before the incident. Overall it's very funny, and everyone in Camelot suddenly finds Merlin ten times hotter. Arthur is struggling to cope. Leon openly drools. Gwaine is so wowed he can't even flirt right. Gwen trips over every time he speaks.

His accent is naturally really toned down, from years of hiding it and just being around people who don't have that accent, but it still gets strong when he shouts, and is nigh impossible to understand when he's concussed/drugged/suffering from blood loss/exhausted to the point of delirium. He also starts using words like "aye" to mean yes, and "slán" (the original of Sláinte, meaning good health, or cheers), when he says goodbye, and it's very endearing but also very confusing.

Our man is just so much happier being able to be himself and share his culture with no backlash, because Uther's been gone a while, and Arthur made peace with the Gaels ages ago (Merlin was basically just in too deep to back out then and kept clutching straws until the sister/friend arrived and blew it all wide open). Now he just has to do the same with the magic thing.... But then again!! Sister/friend not giving a fuck has maybe done that already. So. Maybe he's already set?

Anyway. Merlin with an Irish accent. Yes Please Please Please :D

[solomons-poison]

I'm thinking about friends with benefits with Toji cause that man is constantly on my mind (fem reader, gets a lil explicit)

You two set up this agreement with clear intentions, rules, and boundaries. After running into each other at a local bar, you couldn't deny the chemistry between you two, both in personalities as well as the physical attraction. Scarred and beaten up as he was, Toji was still a hot piece of man if you've ever seen one, and you both just knew that one night together wouldn't be enough.

The first rule was: no feelings (of course). As soon as anything developed, the deal was to be cut. The second rule: limited contact. He wouldn't save your number, and you wouldn't save his. You'd let fate rule your meetings, the occasional meeting at the bar or run-in on the streets being your only way of seeing him, or, very rarely, a mutually agreed-upon date. You both agreed that having the other as a saved contact just further risked developing feelings, and the easier it was to cut contact when the time came, the better. The third: no discussion of your lives. Of course, the basic "how are you" and "what have you been up to" was acceptable, but any other questions were barred. Anything that could make it easier to cut strings was welcome.

You both knew without asking that the other's way of living, be it job or lifestyle, made for a high stress environment and a lot of tension in the body. So you used this deal to work out the built up tension in a more.. productive manner. Toji needed a snug cunt to fit his dick into and release all his stress into. And you needed someone to fuck the stress out of you in the most disrespectful way possible.

Everything was going perfectly. It was no difficulty not adding him to your phone. Of course, there were days where you really wished Toji was there to just rail you against the nearest wall and make you forget everything except the feel of his huge dick and how he stretched you. And sometimes there were days where Toji wanted nothing more than to vent to you about the stupid people he dealt with while pounding you into his couch. But somewhere along the way, or perhaps it was there at the very beginning but it was unidentifiable at the time, the relationship started to change.

At least, Toji noticed a change, for sure.

He’s not sure when the change happened exactly. Maybe it was when he was balls deep in your cunt, folding you into a mating press below him on his bed, and he could closely admire the tears in your eyelashes and the flush on your cheeks. Or maybe it was when he had you bent over in an alleyway near the bar when you two couldn’t wait to get back to either person’s apartment, hearing your muffled cries of pleasure and your pleads for him to go faster, and how he knew that he was the only one that could make you feel like this.

Or, the final straw could have been when you couldn’t stop laughing at a terrible joke he told you while you two were a few beers deep into your rendezvous at the bar.

You were usually pretty honest with him, the only information you withheld being the same information you’d agreed not to share such as deep personal details like your occupations, other people you knew, etc. But you rarely let go entirely, and he was much the same, doing this for your own safety, always on your toes for when things could change or go wrong.

But tonight, the alcohol had helped to loosen you up a little, and for some inexplicable reason, what Toji had said to you managed to absolutely tickle you pink, producing a deep belly laugh that had you fighting to stay on your stool. As you fought to catch your breath, tears welling in your eyes, Toji was speechless. His heart ached at the sound of your pure laughter, and the smile that had lit up your entire face. He knew he was staring at you but he couldn’t seem to look away, at least not until you’d collected yourself enough to notice and question him on it, assuming he had been weirded out by your reaction. He played it off, going along with your assumption and teasing you that you were drunk and that it wasn’t that funny. But Toji realized what the truth was, and he knew what it was he needed to do.

The question now was if he was going to honor your agreement, or throw it all away.

[jaggededges123]

for filthy friday prompts: would you be okay with sensory depravation + corona/ianthe from tlt?

some tridentariicest to kick off my slutty saturday let's go 😌

Trusting someone entirely was always a big trope in romance novels, songs, even asinine conversations with people who have a little too much confidence in themselves and not enough genuine tact. But for Coronabeth Tridentarius, trusting someone utterly was easier than breathing--one specific someone.

It was easier than seeing, even.

Corona was presently laid out flat on their bed, the one she had always shared with Ianthe, sweaty and exhausted. Ianthe practically built her body as it was, primping and shaping her flesh as though she were Ianthe's personal living mannequin, and so she knew exactly how far she could push before Corona practically fell apart. It was pretty damn far, if Corona was honest.

Corona trusted Ianthe though with her body, and more than that she craved enticing her sister, flirting in front of her so she might snap and drag Corona into a little-used alcove and fuck Corona so hard she'd see stars or otherwise flaunting herself just to prove that Ianthe was still hers the way she was always Ianthe's. There hadn't been a proper party on Ida in months, though, only stuffy soirees with dignitaries from the other Houses who were in the generation older than them, and no one their own age to entertain.

It was frighteningly boring. Corona was afraid that her brain might melt out of her ears.

This though--strapping herself to their bed, blindfolding herself so that Ianthe could do whatever she pleased even if she playfully mocked Corona while doing it--this had been a good idea.

Corona was fully on board with being sucked and fucked and hearing Ianthe's laughter and an again already, baby? you just came while she did things no one would be able to resist. Everything was more intense without being able to see, when she didn't know where exactly Ianthe's thin hands would touch next, whether they would crook inside her or squeeze one abundant tit or the other, slide down the side of her ribcage or pinch at the generous flesh of her thigh just to hear her squeal.

Ianthe's attention was all on Corona, and for Corona right now, Ianthe was the only thing in the entire universe.

But after her tenth orgasm or so, Ianthe moved away, and Corona had no idea where she had gone. The blood still rushing through her ears masked any sound her sister might have made, and she couldn't exactly feel around for her because Ianthe had laughed at her shoddy attempt at self-restraint and strapped her hands properly to the headboard.

"Ianthe?" she asked, because she could do nothing. Nothing but lie there and drip into the sheets, melting apart.

"Here. Time to pay all that pleasure back, pet," Ianthe said, suddenly close as she settled her knees on each side of Corona's head, somehow winding her thin, cool legs in with Corona's arms so that nothing pinched or hurt, to the tune of Corona's exhausted, but still eager moans. "What? You didn't think it would all be for free, did you? Open your mouth."

Corona giggled, glad that Ianthe had come to take her fill as well. It never felt as good when it was just Ianthe making Corona come all over herself, like it was a chore. "You're desperate for it, huh?"

"It's equivalent exchange," Ianthe murmured, sighing that big sigh that meant she didn't quite know what to do with Corona. It was a frequent sound, from Corona's incorrigible boredom during their shared (useless) necromancy lectures, to Corona's natural encouragement of any sort of attention that came her way.

This time, it was because Corona was already eating Ianthe like her life depended on it, because she could perceive nothing in the world except for her twin sister.

Corona adored it.