#having a hellish mental health night

[cloama]

It’s really me and my DBT workbook against the world.

[calltheblues]

my face at night after doing all my skincare + spot treatments

[rinhaler]

The Root Of The Apple

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Why is Megumi at your parents house warming party? And why is he such a psycho? Daddy issues, of course!

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, panic attack, mental health issues, alcohol consumption, drug taking, bullying, drugging mention, bladder failure mention, marking mention, family drama. 

WORDS : 5.8k

notes : two years years with hindsight i should not have added toji bc i want to fuck him so desperately 😭

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Unlike your hellish few days, Megumi’s were uneventful. After he choked you in the club, he took a cab home. His sister Tsumiki was fussing over him, much to his chagrin. She asked how his night went, if he had a good time, if he kissed any girls. She thought she was hilarious, but Megumi found her to be nothing but a nuisance.

He hates that he was trapped with her until he finishes university, being unable to move out from under her over protective thumb is painful for him. Tsumiki is invasive, irritating, and too God damn happy. And what’s worse, she’s not his real sister. He’ll never think of her as such, to him, Tsumiki is a means to an end.

He hates her. He hates his whole God damn family. But right now, right in this exact moment…

There’s nobody he hates more than you.

While you were still in a drug infused sleep, Megumi’s Wednesday was different. He went on as if everything was normal, he got a ride to university from Tsumiki. It’s rare she has the time to take him since she is usually at work.

He found the entire day dull. It pained him to admit it to himself, but he supposes part of him missed you. He was blissfully unaware of your coma-like state, he smiled into the pencil he was chewing in his mouth as he imagined that you’re terrified to come back to school for fear of seeing him. It gave him a sick sort of power trip, knowing what he’d done to you, what he’s doing to you.

He’s sick.

But it’s okay that he’s sick, because he knows.

He knows he’s fucked up, and everything he’s doing to you is fucked up.

But Christ it’s fun.

Thursday is the same, although he’s grateful he gets to finish the school day earlier. But as he walks through the parking lot, he pauses when he doesn’t see Yuuji’s car in its usual spot. He didn’t think twice about it yesterday.

Of course perfect Yuuji would want to stay home and play the role of the doting boyfriend, protecting you from the big bad bully, wrapping you in cotton wool and shielding you from the world. But today is the second day Yuuji hasn’t been to school.

Megumi would never admit it out loud, but his blood ran cold at the thought that something terrible had happened.

He arrives home, his sister nowhere in sight. Megumi dumped his backpack and sprawled out on the couch. And against every voice in his head telling him not to, his resolve crumbles, and his thumbs involuntarily types your name into Facebook.

He couldn’t see much since you weren’t friends, but he thought he might be able to see if anyone had said something about what happened.

Alas, there was nothing.

He decides to try and put it to the back of his mind.

Within the hour, Tsumiki is home. She begins preparing dinner for the two of them. She waffles on about her boring, mundane workday. She hasn’t even realised that Megumi has his headphones on and is completely tuning her out. An eyebrow quirked on his face when a text came through to his phone.

Nina: Megumi omg baby we are in soooooo much trouble! 😳😟💘xxx

Megumi’s thumbs hover above the keyboard momentarily as he contemplates how he should reply. One thought ran through his mind.

Who the fuck is Nina?

It had to be one of those annoying sluts from his class. But was it the blonde or the redhead? They’re both practically the same save for the hair colour.

He can barely remember which one he fingered; he thinks it’s the blonde.

It had to be her, surely the other one wouldn’t be so bold as to call him baby. He shudders and gags as he thinks of the pet name. The more he debates formulating a reply, he opts to not bother.

Megumi technically didn’t do anything wrong.

Hours pass, it's close to 1am. Tsumiki never normally stays up this late, but she has the day off tomorrow and was enjoying watching movies with Megumi.

Well, she thought they were watching together.

Megumi is just in the room playing on his phone, pretending she didn’t exist, as usual. Just as he was about to go upstairs, the siblings both startle at the sound of an ominously loud knock. Tsumiki looks at him, as if to ask if he was expecting anyone. He shakes his head in response, so she gets up and looks through the peep hole.

She gasps, and opens the door quickly after she’d spotted who was outside.

Megumi isn’t ashamed to admit that his stomach drops when he realises the police are at his door. And the disappointed look in Tsumiki’s eyes as she hears them ask if Megumi Fushiguro is home make his insides churn. She welcomes them in, clearing space for them to sit on the sofa.

Megumi sits down next to her, she wraps an unwelcome arm around him, a sign of solidarity.

“There’s been a serious allegation made against you Megumi.” one of the officers speaks. Megumi hears his sister’s breath hitch, but he clears his throat and tries to remain calm.

“In regard to what? I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” he answers simply. The officers look at each other quickly before giving him their attention once again, as if they’ve already decided he's guilty.

“A classmate of yours has accused you and two others of drugging her in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Do you know anything about that?” the policeman asks. Megumi does his best to stay composed, shaking his head in response.

“Megumi would never—”

“Please don’t interrupted miss.” the other policeman speaks. Tsumiki bites her tongue as she sinks back in her seat. His attention focuses back on Megumi before he starts flipping through a notebook. “This young woman was in a terrible state. I won’t go into too many details, but she was publicly humiliated and has been unconscious for the last two days.” he explains. Megumi’s jaw bubbles as he tried to supress his emotions, Tsumiki’s hands cover her mouth in horror as her ears digest the information. She leans forwards timidly, as if to ask permission to speak.

“I- sorry, what do you mean by publicly humiliated?” she wonders.

The officer clears his throat, unsure whether he should say. The other nods, wanting to fill them in. Megumi knew their little game. They think if they tug at his heartstrings and make him feel guilty, his emotions will give him away. He didn’t know what happened after he left; he told the girls that the drug will be enough to make her embarrass herself.

“When she was discovered on the bathroom floor in the club, we were informed that she had urinated and vomited on herself on account of the drugging.” they explain.

Megumi has to do everything in his power to supress his laughter.

He knew you’d find a way to make a fool of yourself when it was in your system, but that really cut the cake.

“That’s awful.” Tsumiki says softly.

“As well as that,” the officer speaks again, commanding the sibling’s attention, “the t-shirt she’d worn that night appeared to be cut open with a pair of scissors. We could tell from the CCTV from the night of the incident that someone had written the word 'bitch' across her body. According to the woman’s partner it was written in lipstick.” he tells them.

Megumi managed to keep composed, although he was seething. Those idiot incompetent girls could be the undoing of him. He specifically told them that they had nothing else to do other than slip the pill in your drink. Their petty jealousy had clearly gotten the better of them, and it could fuck them all up well and truly.

Tsumiki gasps when she hears the final sentence from the officer. She assures them that Megumi could never do anything so horrible. They look at him, and he knew he had to speak.

“I don’t know anything about that. I left earlier than most, I got a cab. My sister was awake when I got back, and I’m sure the CCTV can prove that I wasn’t there.” he tells them calmly.

“How do you know you were gone before it happened?” the officer asks, feeling clever, feeling like he trapped Megumi in a lie.

“Because you said it was the early hours of Wednesday morning. I had left the club by 11:30pm, like I said, the CCTV will be able to prove I left early. This incident has nothing to do with me,” Megumi stands to his feet, knowing he’s won and has no interest in carrying on the discussion anymore. The policemen knew as well as he did that it was your word against his, he feels untouchable. “Whoever she is, I hope you can get some justice for her.” he tells them, smugly. His sister beams up at him with so much pride. Her little brother is so good, so respectable, he’s perfect in her eyes.

If only she knew.

She shows the men out of their home, requesting he get in touch if he remembers anything that might help their case. Megumi finally retreats to the safety of his bedroom, feeling cocky and proud of himself for slithering his way through your feeble attempt to get him arrested. He feels like a god. He feels invincible. An electric excitement jolts through him as he wonders when he might see you next.

What he can do to you next.

Friday brings another uneventful day, he really fucking misses you.

It sounds more romantic than it is.

Maybe it is, in some twisted way, treat them mean to keep them keen.

And he is downright vile to you. He doesn’t feel anything but pure unadulterated hatred for you. You’re too fucking nice, like his sister. No one is that nice. The way you felt compelled to compliment his art whenever you had the audacity to lean over and observe his sketchbook. And every time you did it, it was pictures of him. He thinks he hates you the most. And then when he remembers that man, that scumbag, he takes first place. If you could have just shut your fucking mouth, if you didn’t feel so compelled to start talking about those pictures of him, maybe you wouldn’t be paying the price now.

Megumi arrives home from his boring school day and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot. He's furious. The combination of his hatred for you and his father is too much. All he wants to do is go to his room, get changed and head outside for a few hours to clear his head. But when Tsumiki stops him from going to his room, he just about bites her head off.

“What?!” he barks. The volume makes her jump, but she simply smiles as she prepares to speak.

“Dad called.” she told him.

“My dad. Don’t say dad as if he’s your dad too. What did he want?” he moans at her. Her smile pulls downwards into a frown at his rude and hurtful words. She was about to answer him again, but before she can she's interrupted by the creaking of stairs. The siblings look to the source, and Megumi’s blood boils at the sight.

“That’s no way to talk to your sister.” Toji speaks. He’s just showered. He's wearing some grey joggers and his chest is bare, he's in the middle of the process of pulling a shirt over his head. His shirt clung to his water-soaked body in all of the right places, it's almost a little pornographic considering how innocent of an act it was.

His children almost didn’t want to look at him because it's so unintentionally erotic. Although Megumi doesn’t like to look at him anyway. “It’s been a while son. You don’t mind if I take him for a drive do you Tsumiki? Got some things I wanna talk to ‘im about.” Toji smiles at the young woman who nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Megumi spits.

“I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’ so get your scrawny ass in the car and stop bitchin’ at me.” Toji commands, walking ahead and leaving through the front door.

What Megumi hates most about Toji is no matter how much he hates him, how much he knows he’ll never change, he still – for some unknown reason – craves his approval. He knew his son would follow him through the door, that’s why he didn’t wait for him to start moving his feet. Because within seconds, Megumi is following him through that very same front door.

The silence in the car is deafening.

Toji is feeling the need to drag out whatever it is he wants to discuss, and Megumi has absolutely no desire to make idle chit-chat with his piece of shit father. The new car doesn’t go unnoticed. Megumi can feel his blood bubbling with rage through his veins.

When Megumi’s mother died, Toji went off the rails and he brought Megumi right along with him.

He was a downright mess. He drank, he did drugs, anything to forget. And Megumi didn’t understand. All he knew was that he lost his mother, and his daddy wasn’t his daddy anymore.

Toji could barely stomach looking at him, he reminded him too much of his dead wife. Although he found a new wife to go off the rails with, and that’s how Tsumiki entered the fray.

They were both terrible for each other and they fed off each other’s toxicity. Megumi couldn’t bear to look at his father without reliving his trauma, his unresolved resentment coursing through his fragile skin.

He understood that his father was hurting, but he was too. He lost his mother. And instead of taking care of his son, being there for him, helping him heal. He found a new wife, narcotics, and shady ways of making money. That was more important than being a dad, apparently, and this new car, his new set of wheels that reeked of money and sin, makes his body fail him.

Megumi isn’t sad. He's never sad. What he's feeling right now, some may call a broken heart. But not him. To Megumi, the way his heart feels being in such close proximity to his father is different.

It didn’t feel broken. It feels shredded.

It feels like it has been wrapped in barbed wire, and when he was near this pathetic excuse of a human being it did all it could to bulge out of its piercing prison. Chunks escaped, sure, but they were destroyed. The rest of his heart is stained, bruised and pouring blood. He couldn’t bear it.

Megumi couldn’t bear it.

“Let me out,” Megumi speaks, his breathing intensifying. His chest rising and falling rapidly.

“What? Kid, stop bein’ a bra—”

“Dad! Stop the car!” he screams. He stares at his father, begging him to listen to him.

When Toji looks over to where his son is seated, he doesn’t recognise who he's looking at. Snot and tears dribble down his face. His eyes are puffy and red, totally bloodshot. His white irises cracked with red uncomfortable veins that made Toji’s heart stop for a brief second.

This isn’t Megumi. Megumi doesn’t get like this, he’s never seen him like this. But what has Toji seen him like? He’s seen gloomy, stoic Megumi.

That’s all he sees on his fleeting visits.

Toji pulls the car over and Megumi scarpers out as quickly as he can. Toji takes his time turning off the car, finding a pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment before stepping out to tend to his child. He approaches him slowly. Wallet, phone and keys all rested skilfully in one hand.

Megumi doubles over, clear vomit evading the pit of his stomach. Toji grimaces at the sight, what the hell was wrong with him? His son is trembling, still. When he isn’t vomiting he's taking in sharp, heavy breaths, he almost sounds like he's screaming.

The desperation in his inhales are so eerie, like someone dragging a sharp knife down a windowpane.

Megumi is disgusted with himself.

It's all too much for him, reminiscing on his childhood and the closure he’d never get. The fact that his father thinks he’s allowed to pop into his life if and when he chooses.

He expects Megumi to drop everything and anything he’s doing to spend time with him and do as he’s told.

And the worst part? He does it.

He fights him every step of the way, but still, he does it.

Why does he do it? He hates him. Toji knows he hates him, too. Every conversation they have is surface level toleration or a heated argument. But Toji knows, no matter what, Megumi wants to please his father. Because he left him to fend for himself, he left him without a friend in the world. So, whenever Megumi gets the chance, he wants to prove himself to his father.

That’s why.

Megumi needs his father’s approval.

“The fuck’s wrong with you kid? Panic attack?” Toji questions as he towers above his son.

Megumi collapses onto his backside, mouth agape as he manages to calm himself down. He wants to rip his dad’s throat out for talking to him like that. But he doesn’t have the energy. He just can’t.

“Shut up, Toji.” he commands, making his father roll his eyes. An act of petty defiance, to call him by his name instead of dad. It doesn’t bother Toji, he couldn’t care less. He knows he’s a shit dad, he didn’t sign up for it anyway. He doesn’t care, he probably never will.

“Get up, there’s a coffee shop over there I’ll get you some water.” he tells him, hoping the offer will be enough to entice him off the ground.

Megumi blanks him though, still focusing on his breathing and trying to coax himself into feeling better so he can go home. Toji isn’t a man who likes to be ignored, Megumi is lucky he’s his kid right now. Anyone else would be in for a world of hurt.

But instead, Toji slowly raises his foot off the ground. He inches his dirty dust clad shoe closer to his boy’s face. Megumi side eyes the muddy soled loafer, piercing green eyes threatening him to back off.

However, Megumi forgets who he inherited those intimidating emerald orbs from.

Toji doesn’t take lightly to threats, and he hasn’t gotten where he is by being frightened by a simple look. His filthy shoe is millimetres from Megumi’s face, “I said get up kid.” and with Megumi ignoring him yet again, Toji has to make good on his threat. He gently kicks the bottom of his foot into his son’s face. Megumi grabs his ankle and pushes him away, springing to his feet soon after to ball his fists in his dad’s shirt.

“Why the fuck are you here now? What do you want? You only come when you want something so out with it.” Megumi hisses, his face mere inches from his dad’s. Toji raises his hand in surrender with that signature shit-eating grin on his face. But Megumi’s fists grasp harder, for the first time in his life he feels strong. Stronger than him. He shoves him backwards and pins him against the car. “What do you want Toji?!”

Toji, however, is over this little game. Megumi never has been, and never will be, stronger than him. He’d never hurt his son. He does love him, in his own fucked up way. He’s his after all. But he doesn’t love him enough to let him disrespect him in his quest for validation and superiority. He grabs his junior by the base of the neck, removing his sunglasses and peering intensely into his child’s eyes. Fear shudders through Megumi, and he lets go. But Toji doesn’t.

“Get in the fuckin’ car. Dumbass. I’ll go get you a drink,” and with that he releases Megumi from his grip, crossing the road seamlessly. Commanding the traffic around him to stop as he approaches the coffee shop.

Megumi gets into the car. It’s hot. Fuck, it’s hot. His breathing is intensifying again. He hastily removes his jacket with shaky hands.

His father has only been gone for a few minutes, but his gaze is flitting between the windscreen window and the coffee shop. He balls his jacket up and shoves his face into it, screaming all of the air in his lungs out into the material. He just screams. It feels like he can’t stop, the oxygen will never be out of him.

He needs it out, he needs to breathe out this day, this experience.

But he can’t.

It’s lingering in his lungs, itching away at him. Little spindly legs crawling around inside of him like spiders, biting and tapping inside of him searching for a way out.

There’s no way out. He can’t breathe. He wants to rip his fucking heart out and let his dad drive and reverse over it until it’s unrecognisable.

His head drops between his knees, his hands interlocking behind his head trapping tufts of his unruly onyx locks.

He startles a little when his father opens the car door and sits behind the wheel. Toji could swear he saw him jump a little again when he slams the door shut behind him.

“Here,” his dad speaks, holding two bottles out to him. Megumi peers up to see them. One is water, and the other is a chilled glass bottle of beer. Why did he get him this? “Might steady yer fuckin’ nerves. What happened to you? Never seen y’like this before,” Toji states, not expecting a direct answer from Megumi, but daring to ask anyway.

Megumi twists the plastic cap off his water bottle. He doesn’t sip, he gulps. And he gulped, and gulped, and gulped, until the plastic bottle was contorting and creasing as he sucked the air out and his heavy fist gripped tighter around the soft material. Toji offers a teasing ‘think ya got it’ hoping it would make Megumi give up trying to get the last lingering droplets out of the plastic container.

He was right, he did get it.

It just isn’t enough. It does nothing to drown that unbearable itch inside of him. So, he slouched back in his seat, at least a little calmer for having something else to focus on.

“I’m fucked up.”

And he laughs.

It's manic. If you could see him now, God if you could see what a pathetic miserable shell he is right now.

It’s symbolic really, how insanely he’s laughing. You’d actually see a similarity between the two of you. He was almost laughing as insanely as you had been as you destroyed his artwork, probably more so.

He's unhinged. And for the first time in his life, he thinks Toji is scared. His face hurts from the way his cheeks are pulling as he laughs. If he was normal, his stomach would be aching. Because that’s what is meant to happen when people laugh. Right? When people truly laugh at something, you feel it in your belly. But fuck, Megumi isn’t normal.

He’s breaking apart.

Toji grabs his shoulder, and in an instant the laughter stops. Megumi’s face turns, his eyes snap to find his father’s matching ones. His smile is gone, but his eyebrow quivers as he studies his father’s features.

“Oh, fuck, scared you huh?” Megumi asks. Toji scoffs and lets go of him, starting the car up to drive away instead. But before he does, he takes his sons beer bottle between his teeth and bites the lid off. He spits it down on the floor of his car beneath him and gives it to Megumi. And Megumi drinks it, seeming to enjoy the taste.

That’s doing it.

That’s drowning his demons.

His attention is back on Toji as he’s driving.

And looking at him now, that is the father he knows.

He’s just driving as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like his son hasn’t just totally snapped before his very eyes. He’s snapped already, so why not push him a little more. Megumi punches his arm, causing Toji’s steering to waver.

“Stupid little idiot, fucks wrong with you? Don’t fuckin’ touch me while I’m drivin’.” he barks at his son. But he doesn’t stop. He punches him again, again and again. He slams harshly on the breaks, engulfing his sons whole face in one fist. He smothers his face and forcefully pushes him back into the passenger side door. “Hey! Did I fuckin’ stutter?”

“Did I fuckin’ scare you dad? You looked a little concerned you piece of shit! Ya fuckin’ deadbeat…” Megumi yells, fighting back the tears that were building, slithering behind his eyes threatening to spill at any moment.

“Pfft. Grow up Megumi. You’re not fifteen anymore,”

“Yeah, I was fucked up then never mind now.” Megumi spits at him.

“God, shut up.” Toji seethes as he softly slaps Megumi on the side of his face, pointing to the tip of his nose, demanding his attention. “You’re not fucked up. You’re fine. Y’think everyone doesn’t get like this? Y’think I never get like this? I wanna rip my fuckin’ skin off when I think about how fucked everything is for too long.” he tells his son sternly, trying to be calm but firm with him.

“You—” Megumi manages to croak out before Toji interrupts.

“Yeah, me. I fuckin’ left you. Never said sorry did I? Would you believe me if I said I was sorry? I don’t know if I am kid, that’s the problem. Had to fuckin’ split, couldn’t handle it. But if it helps, sure. I’m sorry. It was fucked.” Toji tells him.

Megumi is in awe.

This is the most they’d ever talked in their lives. Everything they discuss is surface level pleasantries that are meaningless. And he apologised. He can’t apologise. He’s said the word sorry but the itch is still there. He doesn’t mean it, he said himself he doesn’t mean it. This can’t be it, this can’t be everything Megumi has been waiting to hear to fix him. Anger and resentment he’s clung onto for so long, dying as he awaited the moment he’d finally get an apology or an explanation.

And this was it.

This was all he’d waited for, and it wasn’t good enough. It’ll never be good enough. He’s going to be stuck with this itch for the rest of his life.

“Are you kidding me? You think that’s good enough?” Megumi questions, fists balled as he argues with himself whether to punch Toji again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not really sorry because I had too. Huh, asshole? You really think that’s good enough?!” Megumi bellows, lip quivering as he clenches his teeth together.

“Don’tcha get it? Idiot. Nothing I say’ll ever be good enough. I fuckin’ left you alone after your mother died. Whether I mean it or not, it won’t stop fuckin’ hurtin’ kid. You got more than I ever did. The Zen’in used to lock me up and beat the shit out of me.” he angles the right side of his face and points to the scar on his lip, “they gave me this for the pleasure, think I ever got a fuckin’ sorry? No. Fake or sincere, nothin’. Think holdin’ a grudge is gonna fix anything?”

Megumi has been vibrating with anger the entire conversation.

All he wants to do was smash the glass of beer he has and stab the jagged shards into Toji’s neck. He's furious.

There is some truth to his words, sure, but he's so fucking casual. Like Megumi is meant to take everything he's saying as gospel, accepting it as absolute truth and living his life by them from now on.

He’s been vibrating with anger through the entire conversation, until he thought of you. He can’t smile; but his clenching jaw relaxes when visions of you enter his mind.

It's just as well, Toji thinks if he clenched any harder his son’s teeth would smash to pieces. It was something Toji said that made him think of you.

Think holdin’ a grudge is gonna fix anything?

No. But it helps. He’s sure you’d have the same thought process as Toji, you’d be desperate to end the vendetta Megumi has against you. But if he didn’t hate his father, if he didn’t hate you, how else would he cope?

How else would he control the itch?

Megumi allows his body to go limp, looking over to Toji with a side-eye glance. He huffs, allowing his chest to rise and fall in one heavy dramatic breath.

“What do you want, dad?”

Toji kisses his teeth, contemplating how to speak. How to ask. But Megumi has honestly had enough of fucking around today, dancing around subjects and rowing with each other. He just wants to know, and that is something Toji could plainly see in his son’s defeated body. So, he comes right out and says it, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“Tomorrow,” he begins, looking around at everything in the car other than his son. But his gaze settles, their emerald eyes meeting once again. “There’s a big shindig, all of the Zen’in are goin’. You need to be there.”

And that’s how Megumi found himself in a town car on his way to your parent’s new manor home.

Toji didn’t offer him a ride, of course.

Megumi suspects his father will be feeling uncomfortable after their argument yesterday, but in reality Toji is having a good parenting moment. He felt it necessary to give his son some space to cool down after their heated conversation.

The closer the car got to the ridiculously enormous manor; butterflies joined the itching in the pit of Megumi’s stomach. He tries to clear his throat and take deep breaths, but it wasn’t helping.

He fishes around in his inside jacket pockets. He pulls out a mirror from the right pocket and a baggie of cocaine and a razor from the other.

The car slows as it pulls into the gates, manoeuvring around the intricate landscaping. He takes the opportunity to make a white powdery line atop the mirror resting on his lap. He doesn’t care what the driver thinks of him, he’s sure Toji does the same if not worse whenever he's in here.

He snorts it, slowly. It’s been a while since he’s let this be a vice of his.

Megumi isn’t stupid, no, he’s careful. He will be careful with his vices. But when the car stops below the staircase that lead to the daunting double doors, he sags back into the plush leather seats of the car.

“D’ya mind if I just wait here for a minute?” Megumi asks, the man shakes his head, much to Megumi’s delight.

It’s been a while since he’s been to a Zen’in get together. When he and Tsumiki moved away, he managed to avoid them and Toji like the plague.

It's harrowing, really, that he had to walk into a strangers home, alone. To see a family who did nothing but chastise and disapprove. A family he barely knew but still felt it necessary to try and control aspects of his life and look down on each and every little thing he did.

But he relaxes. He wipes his nose of the white dust and takes a deep breath. He gets out of the car, slamming it aggressively behind him. He ascended the stairs. Breathing shallow breaths as he prepares himself for the hell he's about to endure.

He rests his finger on the doorbell, he can’t seem to take his finger off it. Air is knocked from his lungs when the door opens, almost being ripped from its hinges.

What the fuck are you two doing here?

He can’t help but stare, completely in awe at the sight. You’re looking at him differently, like you know him. Like you’ve had a look into the window of his damaged soul.

What the fuck are you staring at?

Megumi clears his throat, and you're staring soon turns to dismay, irritation. Megumi thinks you’re just processing what is happening, the unlikely coincidence of it all.

Are you still scared of him?

Terrified of what he’ll do to you?

Or are you safe now, because dear old Yuji is here?

Megumi takes in the sight of both of you, but drinks up the vision of you. He can’t believe it. You’re really here. He opens his mouth, smiling sadistically, knowing whatever he does will get a reaction out of you.

“Well well, what do we have here?” Megumi questions, crossing his arms across his chest as he waits for a response.

Yuuji looks feral, like he wants to skin him alive. It’s sad, really, that his best friend has let a useless cunt come between them. Megumi won’t disown him, but he knows Yuuji won’t claim him as his friend anymore. He’ll always be Megumi’s. Yuuji pulls your hand to bring you closer to his body. He’s sure Yuuji can feel you shaking like a frightened lamb against him, because even from this distance, Megumi can see it.

“Get out of the way Fushiguro,” Yuuji demands, holding your body as tightly as he can to give you the feeling of safety you’re so desperate for.

But of course, Megumi doesn’t move.

He doesn’t sidestep to allow you past.

He just stares. And Yuuji’s temper flares when he stops staring at you both, but through you. Because a dastardly grin stretches across Megumi’s pretty face.

While Yuuji is staring, shaking and furious, while you’re trembling, terrified and on the brink of tears, he sees who he can only assume are the owners of the house, who he can only assume are your parents, are walking through the foyer and approaching you. It’s like he’s watching a movie in slow motion. And it just gets better when his own dad lollygags behind them, leaning on a doorframe further down the hall as he watches your mother and father chase after you.

Megumi knows you’re not going anywhere.

Megumi knows your parents will beg, plead for you to stay. What will people say if you leave the party earlier? They’ll be the talk of high society. A simple, elegant party couldn’t go off without a hitch because their selfish daughter ruined it all.

No.

That’s not you.

The few brief days he’s known you, something he can see about you is clear. You, perfect, sweet girl, are a people pleaser.

Megumi’s smiling. And he’s smiling hard.

Because you aren’t going anywhere.

© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2023 fuwushiguro

[ghosty-writes-23]

I've been listening to a band called Ghost on repeat and it has inspired me to request this:

a crack treated seriously oneshot with RE4! Leon and an amateur heavy metal musician! Reader who was Ashley's college roommate and they were also kidnapped.

Reader never leaves without their guitar, often looks for the positive in everything, and knows how to put on a show!

They've written songs based on what they've encountered in their experience in Spain lol

(feel free to delete this ask if you're uncomfortable with writing something like this)

RE4!Leon & Musician!Reader One-shot.

!TAGS!: Pure Fluff, You Mental Health Matters, Flashbacks, Gender Neutral, Nightmares, Comfort, Music. 

Word Count: 1k

Ghosty's Notes: Hello, thank you so much for another request I love writing these, sorry if this one is a little short, I tried to but everything in here that you asked for, maybe expect the crack part which I hope you don’t mind and I didn’t know if you wanted romance with Leon or not so I just didn’t add it and tried to make this as Gender neutral as possible.

Thank you for all the support, it means a lot❤️

-Ghosty :] ❤️🦝

----------

2 Months….

It has been two months since you were kidnapped and taken to Spain by a dangerous cult, where you had gotten infested with a virus they called the las Plagues, watched a man you had started to think of as a friend die before your every eyes.

The only positive to everything was you had your collage roommate with you Ashley Graham, the president’s daughter, but as time went on your started to think you were both doomed, even if you tried to use your humor and positive attitude to distract her from the danger you were both in.

You thought you were never going to get out, that was until you meet Agent Leon Kennedy, he had been sent by Ashley’s father to come and find you both, he was like a guardian angel but you should have known that was only going to be the start of one hellish night of survival, stopping a ritual, killing monsters of all kinds, and a few games at a shooting range that was set up by a merchant that seemed to always follow you around the island, he always welcomed Ashley, Leon and you with a friendly “hello stranger.” Whenever you visited him.

After battling your way through the island with Leon to rescue Ashley from the many times she got kidnapped, to a point it was starting to get on your nerve, you tried to stay positive and when you had a chance to settle you found a little notepad and a pencil and started to drum your fingers on your leg in a soft beat as a song rhythm came to your head as well as some lyrics.

“What you writing there?” Leon asks as he placed the last of the barricade on the door, this should give you some safety for now. “A song?” you say not looking at him as you keep writing, you almost had the whole chorus done.

“You’re a musician?” Leon said with an eyebrow raised, but you could hear the curiosity in his tone. “Amateur one, but a study music theory and instruments at University.” You say before you looked up at him, he nodded his head as he was checking out the area, it was raining heavy and would make it harder to walk in the muddy trails as it would leave footprints.

“Gotta a style you like playing?” Leon asked as he came and sat beside you, glancing at the notepad with your handwriting scribbled onto it. “Heavy mental mostly, but I do sometimes play other gene’s.” you say glancing at him, even with the light conversation you couldn’t help the worrying feeling that had settled into your gut.

“do you think Ashley will be okay.” You asked Leon wanting a serious answer, he took a few seconds as if he was really thinking about his answer before nodding his head. “yes she will be okay, we will save her I promise both of you will get out of here safely.” Leon promised you and it warmed your heart know Leon was going to protect both you and Ashley and get you home safe and sound.

And Leon Kept to his word, both you and Ashley had returned home safe and sound, maybe with a few new scars and cuts, but they could be easily treated in the medical centre, her father came and gave Ashley a huge hug, he always had tears in his eyes seeing his daughter was home in one piece, your parents had come to visit as well and gave you heaps of hugs and kisses, they were just happy to see you were alive and well

But even if you now settled in back in your dorm room, it didn’t stop the nightmares have plagued your mind ever since you had returned home, every time you closed your eyes you had visions of the cult drawings there symbol on your face with blood, the pain that ran though your body when the Las Plagus virus was running through your body, you would wake up in a cold sweat, panting as your clothes stuck to your body.

In moments like this you did the only thing that brought you comfort, you started writing what you were feeling and about your experiences in Spain and in your nightmares, and soon a couple minutes of writing turned into a couple hours of writing song music’s and using your guitar and pulling together a song and in the morning you show Ashley and she loved it and thought you should perform it, to which you thought was a good idea in due time.

You had never performed in front of people, but you knew you could put on a good show, but what a lot of your friends or people didn’t know was you had stage fright and would choke up in front of an audience, which was why you would rather just keep your concerts in the privacy of yours and Ashley’s dorm room.

But after much convincing Ashley finally got you to record a demo of a coupe of your songs, she was so proud of you and encouraged you to make more copies and sell them. To which you told her you would think about it, but deep down you were a little nervous about, But you decided to take the leap and made a small batch and handed them out at your guys Uni.

Ashley even gave Leon a copy to which you felt slightly embarrassed about, but she reassured you he would love it. It wasn’t until a couple weeks later, Ashley was handing you a small note and said it was from Leon, you opened the note, and a smile came onto your face.

I loved the demo, keep it up and one day you will be a great musician. – Leon.

----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Care For You

Fandom: Helluva Boss Summary: Fizz gets worried when his friend hasn't messaged him back in a couple of days. This ends up being the best thing that he could ever decide as it leads to a catalyst of things that improve everyone's lives. Warnings: Not Stolas Goetia friendly, canonical quid pro quo rape, severe mental health issues, BDSM, crying during sex, and intersex imps Word Count: 11,885 Ship(s): Asmodeus/Fizzarolli/Blitzo Buckzo

Archive link!

A/N: Alright, before we get into this I want to make one thing very clear: THIS IS NOT A STOLAS GOETIA FRIENDLY FIC. He is going to be depicted as the abuser and rapist that he currently is in the show, so if you're a Stolas fan then this is definitely not for you. That being said, I think that this fic is going to be very cathartic for some Blitz lovers such as myself. I hope that you all enjoy it! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Three days.

Three days had passed since his last interaction with Stolas and all the complicated feelings that had gone with that. Three days had passed since he’d said more than a single word of explanation to anyone. Three days had gone by since he’d spent the last of the money on his credit card trying to wow a person with sex only to be immediately shot down. Three days had gone by since he’d had anything to drink other than alcohol and the water Loona had tricked him into drinking on the second night. Three days had gone by since he’d eaten anything substantial, more than candy in the middle of the night when he woke up hungover. Three days had gone by since he had felt at all like himself.

He wasn’t sure if Millie and Moxxie had come by to ask him what they were meant to do for work, if they had any questions. The darkness in the back of his mind that he had worked so hard to keep at bay was reminding him that they had done just fine on the last couple of missions that he had sent them on when their office was overstuffed with sinners that needed his attention. They didn’t need him for their job, he had send the crystal with them after giving Loona the barest explanation that he could.

The door to their apartment began to open as soon as his mind focused on his daughter. He assumed that she had come home earlier than usual with something for them to eat or he had simply forgotten what time it was. He sat up on the couch so that he could try to force himself to smile and greeting so that she wouldn’t complain about him being as weird as he had been the last couple of days.

When he turned his head to look over the back of his couch, he was met with two figures that were very much not his daughter. A spike of panic rushed through him as he began to worry that he had gotten caught by the cops traveling up to the human world illegally and was now going to have to face the Hellish court like Stolas had always reminded him he would have to if caught. It took a second for his mind to properly process the fact that it was none other than Fizz and Ozzie standing inside his apartment, arguing with each other quietly.

“What… what are you guys doing here?” he asked nervously as he rose from the couch. It was harder for him to fall back into that black place of pain when his entire body was fueled with nothing more than adrenaline and panic. He didn’t know how his best friend had managed to find his apartment, much less why he had showed up with his royal boyfriend in tow.

“We hadn’t heard from you in a while. I expected to get all the juicy deets and there was just… nothing,” Fizz shrugged.

Blitz sank back down into the spot he had been before. “There’s nothing to tell,” he grumbled out.

“This place reeks,” Ozzie commented softly as he walked further into the living room. He took a slow look around before his gaze finally settled onto Blitz. They just stared at each other for a long while, taking in what the other person looked like.

Blitz had always known that the sins and other upper level demons could change their forms, but it had never occurred to him that Ozzie could change so much while still being completely identifiable as himself. He was the same height and size as a normal succubus or incubus, with a pair of curved horns that stretched up from his head. His hair was no longer made out of fire, though it did glow when he turned his head and caught the light a certain way. Instead, it was woven back into several thick braids on the back of his head that extended far down his back. The Ram and Bull that usually copied his facial motions had taken the form of beads on the two braids that hung on either side of his face. The shape of his face was less birdlike and more humanoid, perfectly puffy lips and heavy eyes that looked like he had just had the best time blowing someone’s back out. He was wearing something that worked for this form but would have been so strange to see him in when he was his normal shape. It was a pleated black and blue skirt that fell to his mid thigh, complimented by a black corset that had neon blue lacing up the front. He wore chunky yet classy heels that had rose gold accents that matched the rings and earrings that he had on. He looked really good, but he always did.

“I didn’t ask you guys to show up and tell me that my apartment stinks,” Blitz mumbled. He knew that the place was at its worst, he hadn’t had the energy to do the minimal cleaning that he usually managed. Loona never cleaned anything other than her room and occasionally the dishes when he offered to leave the apartment for an extra hour to give her some alone time. He was only able to pick up his clothing and run laundry when he had a break from paperwork, which recently hadn’t been happening at all due to the amount of clients that they had.

“You’re right, I apologize,” Ozzie said. “I don’t know what happened between you and Stolas but I can tell that it wasn’t good. You up to taking some help from Fizz and I?”

Blitz turned around so that he could look at his friend. Fizz had on a smaller version of his normal jester hat, the front logo of which was hidden behind the ridiculous pointed sunglasses that he insisted on wearing whenever he was going out. He was wearing a cute pair of pants that were decorated with flowers and embroidered butterflies, along with a black top that flounced over the edge. They both looked so put together and adult, which was the antithesis of what Blitz was in that moment.

“I… I can’t ask you guys to do that. You have other things that you should be doing with your days that aren’t taking care of someone as pathetic and worthless as me,” he mumbled. It was easy to let the words slip through his mouth and into the open air around him. He had gotten very good at saying those things with a smile, in a way that made them sound like a joke that everyone could laugh or roll their eyes at. His mind felt so foggy and out of it from the malaise that he had been stuck in for days that he didn’t realize that he was being earnest with it instead of turning it into a joke.

“Froggy actually rescheduled everything today so that he could come and hang out with you,” Ozzie said as he glanced up from the imp on the couch to his boyfriend. The tender smile that they shared with each other at the mention of what Fizz had done made Blitz’s heart ache. He knew that he was never going to have something like that because he simply didn’t deserve it.

“Believe it or not, you freak, but we’re going to help you whether you like it or not,” Fizz said. It was probably easier for him to say something like that than it would be for Ozzie. He and Fizz had known each other the entire time that they were growing up, despite the fifteen year gap where they were basically enemies with each other. While it was inappropriate for someone that was basically a stranger to say something like that to Blitz, it was normal for the person that had been his best friend and had seen him at his worst once before.

“You’re not my mom,” Blitz mumbled. He fell over sideways so that he was once again laying on the couch that he had turned into his bed. His pillow had fallen down onto the floor, amongst the mess that he had made of his clothing when he was trying to find something nice to wear for the night-that-wasn’t. He hadn’t had the energy or willpower to pick the pillow back up, so he’d been laying his head down on the scratchy material of his couch for a while.

“No, but I’m the only person in the world that saw you barf all over your birthday cake when you and Barbie turned thirteen,” Fizz replied. “I think that gives me the right to come in here and boss you around. Now get up and go take a shower. Oz and I are going to do some cleaning.”

“You don’t have to. I can shower and then we can go out or something,” Blitz replied. It was easier to get up and do something when it was for someone else, it always had been. Whenever he tried to do something for the good of himself, he heard Cash’s voice screaming in the back of his head about how selfish he was and what a disappointment he was to his mother. He had gotten good at ignoring that voice when it was only him, and then even more so when he decided that a lot of the decisions he was making were actually for Loona. That excuse was gone now, with the depression working against him it was easier for his father’s voice and chiding insults to be the only thing that actually stuck in his mind.

“We want to. Now get your stinky self under some water with some soap,” Fizz said. 

Blitz dragged himself off the couch and into the bathroom. It was disgusting, with bits of hair still clinging to the sink and counter from where Loona had last given herself a trim. Dried blood stained the bottom of the bath from the last mission that Blitz had actually managed to make himself go on. He knew that room needed cleaning too, but he wasn’t going to say anything about that when he already felt as though he was taking advantage of the imp he could argue was his only friend in the entire world.

He turned the water on as hot as it would go and then stepped into the tub. It beat down on him with frigid temperatures in the beginning before it shifted warmer and warmer, past the point of being pleasant until it was painful once more. He let it wash all of the sweat from nightmares and panic attacks off of his body until he felt a bit more human. He put a dollop of soap into his hand after what must have been fifteen minutes and then began to spread the frothing mixture over his body.

When he had finished, he rinsed himself properly and stepped out. He was moving on autopilot as he walked to the counter, barely even registering the fluffy white robe, which was badly in need of a wash itself, around his body. He swept the hair on the counter into his hand and then dumped it into the almost overflowing trash before he rinsed the remainder of it down the sink. He grabbed the cream that he used on his old burn scars and smeared it over the affected skin, which eased the creaking pain of the warped skin there.

He stepped out of the bathroom and saw what had already been done to it. The clothing had been picked up and was now nowhere to be seen, outside of the outfit that was laying neatly folded on the couch alongside a stack of bedding. The kitchen had all the dishes cleaned and put in the cupboards, based off the way that the smell was gone and how the mug cupboard was slightly open. The floor had been swept and spot-mopped, now devoid of spots from liquor being sloshed around and dust bunnies. Fizz had taken a damp cloth to all of his pictures so that they were bright with the lack of dust.

The aforementioned imp was standing right in front of the pictures. He realized that the shower had shut off and the door had opened after a minute and turned towards his friend. “Hey, we found something that didn’t look dirty and left it for you on the couch, hope it’s comfy. Ozzie just popped downstairs to run some laundry so that you have something clean to sleep on tonight. Do you really live with two people in a one bedroom apartment?”

“Before I opened IMP and we got it off the ground we didn’t have enough money for any place bigger. I adopted Loona when I still lived here,” he explained it vaguely and badly, trying to figure everything out. He wasn’t sure that his apartment had looked as good as it did in that moment ever since he had moved in.

“I can help you do apartment applications and look for something bigger if you want. You deserve to sleep on something that’s not the couch, Blitz,” Fizz said softly. “Also, you have jack shit in your pantry or fridge.”

“We usually have take out or order something in,” Blitz shrugged. “I made pancakes three days ago.”

Fizz gave him a worried look and then asked if the reason that he was still living in a one bedroom apartment was because he didn’t have the energy or ability to budget properly. Quietly, he admitted, “I actually had to have Ozzie help me hire an accountant when I met him and found out that Mammon was underpaying me and fucking up my finances so that he could launder money through me. I couldn’t read the numbers or understand what they were supposed to look like so I hadn’t noticed anything weird.”

“I know how to run a business, I did most of the shit for the circus when Dad was too out of his mind on booze or whatever else he had gotten to do any of the paperwork,” Blitz grumbled. Fizz had a point when he mentioned Blitz being too tired to get his affairs in order. It was harder work running around in the human world and killing people that someone might think, and then that compounded with the fact that he was doing all the paperwork on his own instead of sourcing it out to his employees meant that he was usually too tired to make food or clean well when he came home.

“Let me help you, Blitz. Let’s look for an apartment and get you into a healthy routine so that you don’t end up this exhausted again, alright? Now I’m going to order us some munchies while we have a little chat,” Fizz pulled his phone out of his pocket. The glowing of the screen meshed with the glowing of his prosthetics in a way that made Blitz’s good eye hurt, so he turned away.

He walked to the couch and then picked up the clothing that had been left for him. He disappeared back into the bathroom so he could finish drying off and then get dressed. They had saved him a pair of boxers that he knew for certain were clean, as well as a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt with more holes than seams. It had a cute horse on the front, though, so Blitz had never been able to get himself to the point of throwing it out.

Once he was dressed, he walked over the stack of bedding to see that it was actually just the physical pieces with none of the covers. The duvet that he had lost beneath the TV when M&M came over the last time sat folded on top of two pillows. “Did you vacuum my couch?” he asked, a bit flabbergasted that his childhood friend had gone that far to take care of him when he had nothing to offer in reply.

Fizz gave him a look, “Of course I did. I don’t think that someone our age should be sleeping on a couch instead of a bed, but if you’re going to do it anyway then you at least deserve to have it be clean.”

What he was saying made sense, even if Blitz had never had those thoughts himself. He nodded his head as he made his way over to the bar stools on the other side of the counter from his childhood best friend. “I promise that I do usually clean more than this,” Blitz mumbled.

“Blitz, something obviously happened. I’m not judging you for not keeping your apartment glitteringly clean. I’m worried about you and I thought that having a clean space would help you get out of your thoughts. It helped me when I was in recovery,” Fizz shrugged.

At the mention of the fire, Blitz felt his heart jump into his throat. He had spent so long fighting off panic attacks at those memories that it was hard to get out of the habit even with all the work he had been doing to recover from it. He just couldn’t stop thinking about the ash that his parent’s caravan had turned into, his mother’s necklace singed but also the only thing that made it out. That was what had haunted him most, along with the memories of puss filled burns and aching pain that just wouldn’t go away. When he thought about Fizz in the context of the fire, he saw his best friend’s flesh melting away from his arm and then how small the other circus imp had looked layin gin his bed.

“It did?” he finally managed to get out.

“Yeah, it did. I’m gonna talk a bit more about it, but I want you to put both your hands on the counter and then breathe evenly. This is good exposure therapy for us both,” he advised.

Blitz did as he was asked and immediately began to feel more secure and grounded. The cold of the countertop leeched into his sweaty, warm palms so that he could focus on something other than the way that his stomach and throat were clenching around nothing. He took the deep breaths that Fizz had advised, in through his mouth and then slowly out through his nose. He could feel the way that the anxiety was prickling in the back of his mind and down his back, but it no longer felt like it was trying to eat him whole.

“I spent a while in a medically induced coma after I was brought to the hospital. It was easier for my body to adjust to the treatments and the fact that I had four less limbs. By the time that I woke up, my room was so fucking crowded with medical devices. I felt tiny under it all, especially with the fact that the lights hung down from the ceiling for some reason in that place,” Fizz explained. “But eventually they got taken away and it was nice to have my own space. People from the circus stopped by a lot, to give my cards and little get well soon presents. That’s when I kept expecting you to show up, because they all were so I figured that you had to know that I was awake.”

“I… can I explain myself too?” Blitz asked, staring down at the swirling marble of the countertop before he forced himself to meet Fizz’s eyes. 

“Please do,” Fizz replied. He turned around and got a saucepan from one of the bottom cupboards before he filled it up with water. It was oddly domestic to see his best friend find everything that he needed in Blitz’s house, as if they had been living together or visiting each other the entire fifteen years that the misunderstanding had lasted.

“I came to see you right after the fire. I had burns, so they kept me in for a week or something until I could bandage all the shit on my own,” he said. He could feel the stinging, tingling sensations around where his burns were, as if his body were bringing back the pain he had felt all those years ago. “I tried to visit you when you were in the coma but Dad said that you wouldn’t want to see me. Told me that the fire was all my fault and you wouldn’t want to see the person that had ruined your whole career.”

“You didn’t ruin my whole career. Even the humans have managed to figure out how to make pretty decent prosthetics. Ozzie showed up and got me set up fairly quickly, thanks to the Circus Protection Act that Lucifer put in place,” Fizz shrugged. The way that he spoke so easily about politics was another sign that he had been given the chance to learn and educate himself, a chance that Blitz hadn’t gotten. 

He did know what the CPA was, of course, everyone that was in their circus did. Lucifer had fallen and been taken in by the circus that Blitz and Fizz had belonged to, funnily enough, so he had passed a law saying any member of the royal family was obligated to help a circus member if they requested it. Blitz guessed that Cash was actually the person that called in that favor so that he could return his money maker back to the state he needed to be in to perform.

“But anyway,” Fizz continued. “I had to stay in the hospital for a long time, through the burn treatments over my entire body and then the physical therapy and then the adjustment with the artificial limbs. Eventually all those gifts start to pile up and get in the way. I had a pile of stuffed animals in the corner of my hospital room that was so covered in dust that they were almost entirely gray and the staff had to take them away as a health hazard. My clothes stuck out of the drawers because I had to have shirts and pants that I could wear with and without the prosthetics. I had letters and cards and notes all over my walls, so it kind of felt like people were staring at me as I slept.”

“I wish I could have seen it. I would have helped you,” Blitz promised. He would have much rather stuck around Saint An’s in Sloth, where Fizz and many of the other circus imps had been taken after the fire, than what had actually happened to him. He would have taken a thousand more sour memories than remember the way that his stomach ached because the only thing that he could find to eat was lemons that he could steal off trees that hung too far over the fences around their orchards. Perhaps that was another reason that he indulged in foods that were less than good for him, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Despite how bad it fucked me up to have all that shit hanging up in my space, I wish that you had been there and contributed to it too,” Fizz said. “But anyway, I was getting towards the end of my treatment. I had the permanent installers in so I was just working out how to pop them on and off when I needed it. I took all the papers down and put them in a box, I got rid of all the clothing that I wasn’t going to need anymore because there were plenty of other amputees in my ward that needed them. The last month I spent in that place was the best I had ever spent because I was a) leaving and b) had space to breath again. Clean was nice, but decluttered was even better.”

“I guess I can see what you mean,” Blitz commented as he turned his head to look back at his apartment. The space was tiny, which had been fine when it was only him because it reminded him of the caravans and tents that he had grown up in. The couch was only about a yard away from the breakfast bar, which meant that someone couldn’t get through that space if someone was actually sitting in the chairs. He could reach the entertainment center with his toes without removing his back from the couch, too. It looked a lot bigger since Ozzie had taken the pile of clothes down to the washer, but that space would be cluttered up again even if he folded them this time.

“I think you’re right, I do need a bigger apartment.”

“I’m so glad that we finally agree on something other than your sex life,” Fizz grinned. The air between them got sticky and uncomfortable as all the memories of what had happened on the Full Moon came rushing back to Blitz at once. The topic was dropped immediately, because Fizz knew Blitz even after all the time they had spent apart and was good at taking care of him.

Their food came and they ate on the couch while watching some shitty reality TV show about sinners trying to win their souls back by doing increasingly strange and dangerous tasks. Ozzie eventually joined them, lazing about on the floor as he folded all of the clean laundry that he had brought up with them. No one asked him why he had been in such a funk or why his apartment had been a mess, they just kept him company and made him feel better.

---

That trend continued during the following months. Every Tuesday evening, Blitz went to hang out with Fizz and Ozzie in Lust or they came up to Pride to spend the evening with him. They would watch shitty movies, play board games that made everyone yell good naturedly or laugh until they were crying. Sometimes, when they were really tired, they would just sit amongst each other and endlessly scroll through social media. Ozzie hated the fact that Fizz and Blitz sent each other posts when they were sitting less than three feet apart, but it made them both laugh.

Blitz had never expected that his life would lead to that point, especially not after what had happened during the last time that he’d touched the grimoire. It ended up being in the best interest for his company as the book had to have someone to activate it and deactivate it, which meant that they were usually at the whim of Loona. A lot of things had changed in his company, but it was for the better. Blitz and Millie handled a lot of the hits where they were given the proper name, description, and location of the victim while Moxxie went out and handled the ones that involved investigation. He had also dolled out the paperwork to them, at least the things that they had to file concerning the individual cases. He still handled the pay stubs, rent, and taxes for the corporation. Loona seemed to be doing better too, she had eased up on her insults and cruelty all around so that she just seemed generally annoyed at her coworkers antics. It may have been the fact that she only had to take the information from their clients instead of making small talk with them, but it could have also been the fact that Blitz wasn’t home as much anymore.

It hurt him that the daughter he had poured his entire heart into didn’t seem to enjoy his company but he knew that wasn’t how it worked. He had hated his own father so much that it felt like it was going to consume him in a blind rage. He may have adopted Loona and provided for her, as any self respecting parent should do, but he wasn’t there when she was growing up. They were more roomates that barely tolerated each other then father-daughter like he had wanted. Still, she was helping him look for other apartments that they could move to so they weren’t on top of each other like they were in their current one.

It was Tuesday, which meant that after a long day at work Blitz was finally heading to the one thing that he looked forward to all week. It was easier to ignore the voices in his head when he had something that he could rely on again, which was part of the reason that it had felt so jarring when Stolas suddenly decided to flip their entire deal on its head. He had never done very well with his routines changing, he had always assumed it had something to do with the chaos of his childhood and needing to control everything that went around him.

He typed in his special code to the Lust palace’s gate and then drove through when the doors swung open. He parked in front of the steps and then nearly skipped up the steps so that he could enter. Ozzie and Fizz were already going to be preparing for him to get up to the penthouse, that was why he had a specialized code instead of the same one that all the servants and staff had. He made his way through the halls, around all of the succubus and imps that were busying themselves with their work. He arrived at the penthouse after inserting the security key into the elevator.

“Blitz!” Fizz shrieked when the ‘ding’ of the elevator alerted the entire penthouse to his apartment. He flung himself from the draped silks on the ceiling so that he was in front of his friend He wrapped the other man up in a hug, his arms extending so that it was more of a cocoon than a hug that Blitz could return.

He spun away and then dragged his friend in through the apartment. They spent the beginning half of the evening stressing Ozzie out while they tried to make pizza. They hadn’t even decided that they were making the dough themselves like they had joked about a month ago when they had come up with the plan. The food ended up burnt on one side and overloaded with the toppings that had almost turned into a food fight, but that was what made it so good. Blitz was slowly discovering how much better it was to eat something that he had made instead of something that he had ordered from another fast food joint. 

He and Fizz were perched on the counter while Ozzie hummed to himself while tidying up his kitchen. When the sin had finished loading the dishwasher and leaned into the space next to Fizz, they shared a look with each other. They did that a lot, which was why Blitz didn’t think anything of it in the beginning. A spike of panic rushed through him when Fizz said, “Hey, Blitz? Can I ask you something?”

“You just did, Roly-poly,” he answered. It was a nickname that he had used constantly when they were children because the ‘z’ sound had been rather hard for him before he turned six. It wasn’t something that he had used since they had reconnected, so it felt a bit like a cheap shot to pull it out now when his friend was trying to seriously ask him something.

“What happened after that date you had with Stolas? What did he do that made you so upset?” Fizz asked. When there was a beat of silence longer than a breath, he glanced at Ozzie and continued nervously, “I mean, you were so excited when you came to get the toys from us. You custom bought him a bunch of shit and knew exactly what he liked so I know that the two of you had been involved with each other for a while. Oz tried to reach out but what he got back was really weird.”

Anger flared up inside of him like it so often did. The mental image of Stolas saying something defamatory or warped shot through his mind like a bullet. “What did that bird fucker tell you guys I did? Cause I can almost guarantee you that’s not what happened.”

“How about you tell us what happened first and then we’ll figure it out, yeah?” Ozzie asked. He was so good at saying something in that level, calm voice that made Blitz feel like everything was going to be alright. The only other person that had been able to do that was his mother and he was fairly certain that was because she wasn’t entirely Impish.

He sighed as he leaned back against the counter, trying to get all his thoughts in line. The anger at the idea of Stolas talking about him after he was the one to break it off was still boiling in Blitz’s gut. “I went over there like I do every full moon and he fucking told me that he was gonna take his book away forever so that I couldn’t do my goddamn job anymore. He was saying all this shit about how what we were doing wasn’t right and how he didn’t want it anymore and then he showed the crystal to me. He just tried to fuse the fucking thing onto my sleeves without asking me and started to fucking walk off. I tried to get him to stop and listen to me for a single goddamn second but he didn’t because he never fucking does. The guy is such a fucking royal prick like all the other powerful overlords and princess and shit! No offense, Ozzie,” he quickly tacked the last sentence onto the end when he realized that it might make the Sin angry.

“I understand, I’ve seen the way that other people act towards demons they view as beneath them,” Ozzie replied with a shrug. His hair was flickering white and pink at the end, the full head of fire instead of the succubus form that he had been in when they spent their first Tuesday together.

“What do you mean about the crystal and the book? I know that you needed the crystal so that you could work but I didn’t think that any of that was going to be related to Stolas,” Fizz commented. He put the crust of his pizza, which was almost entirely black with how charred it was, down on the plate next to him.

Blitz rolled his eyes and sighed, “We had this deal or something. I would come fuck him six ways from Holy Sunday every full moon and in turn he let me use the fancy ass book he has that lets us up onto the surface. It was gross and weird but it was the only way that I could run my business, so you’ve gotta do what you gotta do.”

Ozzie slammed his fist down onto the countertop as his hair flamed bright white, to the point where it actually hurt to look at. “‘No never that’ my goddamn ass!” he swore. He then calmed back down and apologized for the outburst, “It’s just that Stolas and I had this conversation about love and lust when he came to ask me for the crystal. I made it perfectly fucking clear what my stances on love potions and roofies are, they’re not real to the craft and it’s fucking weird that humans made them in the first place. He told me that he agreed with me and then it turns out that he’s been coercing you into sex for what, a fucking year? I’m beginning to hate this owl more than you do.”

“Coercing me? You don’t mean like… rape, right?” Blitz laughed nervously. He had never considered his deal to be anything like that but Fizz was frozen next to him and Ozzie was so upset.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I was talking to him about the fact that lust isn’t something that you can force or drag out of someone. That’s why my people spend so much time up on the human world, they have to seduce their prey to be able to feed into the Sin in Hell. Heaven may be a corrupt bunch of bastards but even they understand the difference between sex and rape,” Ozzie huffed.

“Babe, I got this,” Fizz said quickly. It was obvious that they knew each other well enough to tell when the other person was too angry to be coherent, which was what was happening now. 

Blitz put his food down next to him, his stomach now roiling with nerves about what was going to be said during their next conversation. He twisted his hands in his lap before Fizz reached over and threaded their fingers together. “Blitz, rape isn’t just something that can be done on women from men, you know that, right?”

“Of course I do. Women can be just as shitty as men can. I’m not a human, I believe in gender equality and all that shit,” Blitz huffed. “What does this have to do with me and Stolas?”

“So I know that the book was his in the first place and you probably stole it because you still all the shit that you want and can’t buy, but what he did to you was called quid pro quo rape. He held something over your head in exchange for sex,” Fizz said.

“I… he could have just taken it back, he was doing me a favor by trying to get something in return for lending me his book,” Blitz argued. He could feel feather fingers grasping to his skin and words murmured into his ears like he was wrapped up in the silky bedsheets all over again.

“Remember to breathe, friend,” Ozzie said. His deep voice rumbled through Blitz like the engine of a car and settled deep into his bones so that he relaxed against the counters again. There was no demeaning nickname that he had already refused, no flirting, nothing but the calm reminder that he should be sucking air into his lungs.

“What he did to you was quid pro quo rape with extra steps. Yes, you took his book and that is illegal but he should have simply pressed charges against you like any other Goetia would have. None of them even think twice before they call the fuzz because they’re all so rich that they’ve never had to be on the wrong end of a gun before. It was wrong of him to hold something like that over your head,” Fizz shook his head.

“Tagging in, love,” Ozzie said. He leaned down so that the duo could nuzzle each other. It was clear that they were both very upset by what they were talking about, which was making Blitz feel even worse. They should have been having a fun night while eating pizza, not talking about whatever this was.

“I don’t really understand what quid pro quo rape or whatever means,” Blitz mumbled.

“Quid pro quo rape is when someone in a place of power over the victim tries to hold something above their head to get sex. This thing can be a promotion, their paycheck, housing, or even transportation. The fact that Stolas took the one thing that you definitively needed to be able to do your job and threatened to take it away unless you had sex with him made it rape,” Ozzie explained. 

Blitz slid off of the counter, hitting the ground with bent knees so that he could absorb the shock of the hit. He then began to pace around the island, wringing his hands and trying to remember how to breathe like Fizz had showed him to when they first really reconnected. “But-but I kept going back! When someone rapes you, you don’t consent. You give explicit un-consent or never given consent in the first place. I gave consent every time I showed up at his palace, and most of the time I was the one topping! How can it have been rape if he wasn’t holding me down and I never said no?”

“It was rape because you did not give informed, willing, and enthusiastic consent,” Ozzie said. He sat down on the floor with his legs crossed, next to the counter. It let Blitz continue to walk around in a circle around him while he thought. “Just because you kept going back or walking into that situation didn’t make it not rape, just like returning home to an abusive partner doesn’t make it not abuse.”

“I think it might be good if you talked with a therapist about this, Blitz. A real one, not one of the cheap ones from Greed that tells you you’re a piece of shit and then takes all your money. I can help you get into the clinic that I went to after the accident so you can shop around for one that you feel comfortable with,” Fizz suggested.

It felt like everything that had just been piled on top of him was slowly washing away. They made sure that he was okay and then moved to the living room where they all sat in a heap on the couch, watching dumb horse movies that were streaming. Their touch hurt in the beginning, but as soon as he felt that it was staying on his back or his shoulders instead of moving elsewhere he relaxed significantly. It was nice to be held by people that cared about him but didn’t have to, not like his employees and adoptive daughter did.

---

Fizz had been right about therapy, but that wasn’t a big shock. Blitz had gone to the clinic with him and then had a half hour session with a therapist that felt a little off. He had made an appointment with another and then exchanged some emails that felt promising, which made their first session a wonderful experience. The therapist was kind and compassionate, listening to what he had to say and then parsing through the bullshit that he left in so that he didn’t feel so vulnerable about spilling his guts to someone that was basically a stranger.

They worked through a lot in the beginning six months that he was going there. They discussed what had happened with Stolas and why it was so wrong. Blitz was affirmed in his uncomfortableness with the pet names that centered around his race, in the fact that he had told Stolas multiple times not to make sexual advances on him and yet was ignored, and the fact that he should never have been put in that situation in the first place. The therapist had reiterated what Fizz and Ozzie had already told him. That while Blitz had burglarized the Goetia, that gave Stolas no right to hold the livelihoods of Blitz, his employees, and his daughter over his head in exchange for sex that Blitz didn’t want to have in the first place. The therapist even assured him that just because he had initiated the act of sex the first time that they had interacted as adults, that didn’t mean that he had been asking for those horrific things to be done to him.

It was cathartic to hear someone say those things to him. He had never realized how much it bothered him to be referred to as a plaything or have his wishes disrespected at every twist and turn until it was staring him in the face. Not only did she give him the sense of validation that he needed, but she also provided him to deal with the memories and issues that he had gotten from the relationship that he’d had with Stolas. He found that after realizing he had been abused, he had swung the opposite way than he normally was and found touch repulsive. The therapist had coached him through the feeling and affirmed that he had a right to his own body and his consent needed to be heeded. Afterwards, he found it easy to cuddle up to Fizz and Ozzie during their normal times together or lay beside M&M when they were on missions.

Other things had changed in his life as well. The business was still running smoothly, especially since they had now all adjusted to the way that things worked. They had even hired Millie’s sister Sallie May, who was very good at blending in with humans when it was her turn to use the crystal and even better at convincing the sinners to fork over more money than they would have originally. She ended up being in charge of the desk while Loona sought work elsewhere.

She was still living with Blitz and it seemed like the distance in their apartment was beginning to do wonders for their relationship. They both had their own rooms and bathrooms, though Loona’s technically also functioned as the guest bathroom. The living room was a place that they could go if they wanted to hang out together instead of it feeling as though she were invading Blitz’s room since that was where he always was. The two of them had a little routine now, where Blitz would come home and ask her about her day while they were cooking. She would tell him and then he would relax while she cleaned up, before they both settled down onto the couch to watch shitty TV and scream at baking show contestants. He had thought about proposing therapy to her as well, but it seemed like it would disrupt the delicate balance that they had. He was beginning to learn just how badly his own father had fucked him up and how that reflected in his helicopter parenting, so he was sure his own therapy was helping them already.

The only night that he didn’t spend with his daughter every week was Tuesday, because that was the time he spent with Fizz and Ozzie. They had only ever skipped the week that Blitz and Loona were moving since the duo was so exhausted that neither wanted to go anywhere. Things had changed a little bit, with Loona coming to watch some of the movies they put on or eating with them when they were over at Blitz’s apartment. She seemed to like the fact that she could bring over her partner without worrying about Blitz’s reaction since he would be away on those nights.

Today was one such day and one that he had been both dreading and majorly looking forward to. He had already discussed whether or not he should do it with his therapist and she had advised him to go through with it if he was sure that he felt comfortable. She had reminded him that he knew his body and wants best, so he was going to be able to decide what was best for him.

He hadn’t thought that making a joke about having a threesome with his best friends would end up actually getting him invited into their bed, but there he was. They had already messaged him throughout the day to remind him of the system that they had and negotiate the terms of the scene. Each of them had a stoplight system for what they wanted to do, green for things that actively turned them on, yellow for things that they would do for other people but didn’t necessarily get them off, and red for things they absolutely would not do.

Blitz rolled those things over and over in his head as he drove towards Lust just to keep his nerves settled down. He had taken care of his urges in the entire year that had passed during his recovery, but this would be the first time he had sex since then. He breathed the words allowed as he tried to remember everything that the others had told him. He knew that Fizz liked the scene to be kept light and not too intense, didn’t like to be tied up so that he couldn’t use his limbs, and really enjoyed it when people vocalized what they did and didn’t like while he was doing it. He knew that Ozzie was up for just about anything but really liked being called ‘daddy’ and that his only ick was people trying to have sex with him because they wanted something from him instead of having sex for the sake of sex.

Blitz, in turn, had realized that he had no idea what he did like and what he was just willing to do because his partner liked it. He knew that he didn’t like being come on to when the flirting wasn’t mutual, wanted the consent to be explicit, and didn’t want to be demeaned in the slightest. He had been able to tell the other two that he had liked being cared for, the way that Verosika had but without the resentment that she had carried because she hadn’t communicated what she wanted to him. Fizz and Ozzie had come up with a plan for him, something that he had agreed to with the promise that he could stop it and say that he didn’t like something at any time.

So he typed in his passcode to the gate outside of the Lust palace, parked his car outside the door, and then traveled up to the penthouse apartment with the key in the elevator. When the door opened, Fizz was right there to greet him with a kiss on his cheek and a promise, “I can see that you’re nervous, Blitz. If you don’t want to have sex or having a planned scene is too triggering for you then there’s no shame or punishment for opting out. We’ll just pop in a movie and threaten to burn down the kitchen like we always do.”

“No, I want to do this,” Blitz said. “I miss being able to get my dick wet and I want to have fun with you guys.” He didn’t mention the part about being in love with Fizz since they were thirteen, nor did he mention the fact that he had a massive crush on Ozzie. He had worked really hard to get to the point where he could even have a casually sexual relationship, a romantic relationship still felt like a lot.

“If you’re sure. We’re gonna check on you a lot during the scene, so if you feel like you need to stop you can tell us the or any other time you feel like you need to,” Fizz said. He was speaking softly, which made the rasp in his voice so smooth that he almost sounded like he had before the fire.

Fizz reached out and took Blitz’s hand, threading their fingers together so that they could walk through the penthouse to the bedroom. It felt like the fire had never happened, that this was what Blitz’s life should have been. He knew that it wasn’t, and he had traveled a much harder road to get there, but he was so happy that he had gotten it at all.

The bedroom had soothing blue and pink lights around the walls instead of the overly bright overhead lights, which helped the pain that Blitz was having in his bad eye. Ozzie was sitting on the edge of the bed in his succubus form so that he was actually a good size to have sex with beings that were about a fourth of his height. Fizz had revealed that even in that form his cock was fucking massive, but it was much easier to take than when he was in his full sin form.

“There’s the man of the hour. How are you feeling, Blitz?” Ozzie asked as he stood from the bed.

“Nervous, but good. I brought some toys that I think can keep you both entertained,” he grinned as he began to root around in his bag. 

Fizz placed his hand over Blitz’s arm to get the movement to stop and then shook his head. “We’re having sex because we all want to, not because we’re expecting you to perform a service for us. Plus, you’re literally in the home of the embodiment of Lust. We have all the tools that we need to make you feel special,” he ran one of his robotic fingers down the side of Blitz’s face so that it traced his jawline and then trailed slowly down his neck.

It made him shiver and his mouth fill with saliva, arousal already pooling in his stomach. “Shit, that feels so much better than feathers,” he whispered. He then grimaced and said, “I want that to be the last time that I think about Stolas tonight.”

“We can do that. Do we need to go over safewords and limits again?” Ozzie asked with a small chuckle.

“I had my screen reader say them over and over again on the drive over here, I’m good,” Blitz shook his head.

The other two members of the scene glanced at each other before they turned back to Blitz, “Then we should get this started.”

Fizz placed his hands on Blitz’s hips to tug the other imp a bit closer to them, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. It stayed as their lips dancing together for thirty seconds, before Fizz’s tongue brushed against Blitz’s lips and then his mouth fell open. They grew more heated from there, their lips pressed against each other so hard that they were bound to bruise while teeth nipped at skin and tongues danced together. Blitz was drowning in the taste of his best friend and gasping as he felt hands traveling around his body.

Fizz had held his hips while they were beginning their kiss, but moved on as things became more heated. They traveled first down from his waist to the bottom of his hips, thumbs playing with the leather of his belt. Curious fingers them dipped underneath his shirt and traveled over the cars that littered his stomach and chest until they found his nipples. Fizz tweaked the one on the right between his thumb and forefinger while he gently brushed over the other one.

Eventually they had to break the kiss so that they could both get in a good breath. Fizz used the moment that they were no longer connected to remove the taller imp’s shirt, being careful of his horns as he tossed the garment down onto the bed. “Come and let us treasure you, Blitz,” Fizz said as he stepped back towards the bed. His robotic arms stretched so that they dragged the other man slowly after him.

He didn’t really need a lot of coaxing as he felt the presence of the Sin of Lust behind him, warm and somehow comforting. He leaned back into it with every step forward towards the bed that he took. The three of them clambered in a mess of limbs and a few stolen kiss back onto the bed. Fizz scooted away from them as he began to undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing more of the mixed red and white skin as he did so. Ozzie had already removed everything but his lacy black panties and corset while the other two were involved with each other, leaving Blitz the most clothed person on the bed.

Ozzie folded his legs loosely behind him and then pulled Blitz up into his lap, strong arms wrapped around his waist. “You’re so handsome and strong, Blitz,” he commented as he pressed a kiss to the old scar on his shoulder and then another underneath his jaw. He took a bit of the flesh into his mouth and bit down hard on it, sucking and rolling it between his teeth so that it would bruise and prove that the session had happened for days to come.

Fizz kicked his skirt and shirt off the bed, leaving himself in nothing. Apparently clothing got really overwhelming for the imp, with the addition of his limbs giving him sensational overload more often than he had before the accident. He went without undergarments fairly often, when he thought that he wasn’t going out of the house, and finding out that information had drive Blitz absolutely insane.

It was no different in that current moment, watching the silky material of the green skirt fall off his body and reveal his genitals. Like all imps, Fizz was a complete hermaphrodite. He had an erect cock that was pressed up against the lower half of his abdomen, a pretty sick inches long while one inch in diameter. Underneath that was a slick set of folds covered in course black hair, promising something tantalizing if only someone would delve into it to see what it was.

“Doesn’t he look just delicious? I want you to take in every bit of it because we have a surprise for you,” Ozzie purred into his ear. The Sin’s hands traveled down the imp’s body so that they reached the belt just as Fizz’s had done earlier. He pulled at the buckle and then got the leather to slip through the cloth belt loops so that he could discard it down to the side.

Fizz leaned back against the bed and let his mechanical fingers brush over his skin as they traveled down to his cock and cunt, teasing himself by touching only the parts of his body that still had feeling. Ozzie mimicked the motions on Blitz’s body so it almost felt like he was watching himself in a mirror, an idea that made him painfully hard in his pants. He was going to have to explore that later, but the only thing he could think of in that present moment was the fact that Ozzie’s hands were beginning to play with the cloth of his pants and underwear.

He gasped when he felt fingers slip underneath the material of his jeans and then his boxers following shortly suit. They pushed the fabric down until it got caught on the globes of his ass, causing him to wiggle back against Ozzie’s hard cock. He whined and gasped as he felt the member brush against his own swollen cunt, reminding him just how horny he was. Masturbation was a great way for him to deal with a lot of his feelings, but it didn’t resolve quite as many of them as he had hoped.

“Are you going to stay dressed this whole time?” Blitz pretended to complain. He liked being able to feel the cool metal of the corset rings and the silky material of the corset itself and the panties. 

“I get undressed when Fizz asks me to and not before then,” Ozzie rumbled. He let his hands continued to do whatever they wanted, skating down Blitz’s heated skin until they reached his genitals. He brushed his fingers over the edge of his cock, barely teasing it before he reached the slick material of his cunt. He brushed his fingers up and down the folds, content with teasing him for a while before he finally let them breach the hot warmth and slide all the way in. Once he had done that, he just let them sit there while they watched Fizz.

The other imp was mewling into his hand as he wrapped one of his robotic hands around his cock and began to thrust into it. “Shit, Oz, you look so good when you pleasure him. I bet you wish that you could see Blitz’s face right now, it’s fucking heavenly,” he moaned. He then removed his hand from his cock right as pearly white precum began to develop on the tip. “Color?”

“Green, please, so green. I want more, please more, please,” Blitz whimpered. His hips moved on their own as he tried to fuck himself on Ozzie’s thick fingers. He needed to be filled and fucked by something that had a pulse instead of another one of his silicone toys from when he had been enslaved. He needed to override the memories in his mind of something that he hadn’t wanted to do with something that felt so good for everyone involved.

“Do you think that we can move onto the next thing, Froggy?” Ozzie asked. He moved to the other side of Blitz’s head and then began to bit and nip at the skin once more. He was sucking hickies an inch apart from each other like he was a cannibal tantalizing his victim and getting a taste in before he went for the kill.

“I think that he’s ready for it, yeah,” Fizz replied. He shifted so that he was on all fours and then dug into the bedside drawer nearest to him. He pulled out a piece of silky black cloth that would have gone great with a robe for Ozzie’s corset. He crawled forward with the end of the fabric in his mouth, kneeling down in front of Blitz. Ozzie picked the imp up, having removed his fingers in a quick motion that made Blitz let out a sharp moan of surprise. He shifted the taller of his two partners down onto his leg, so Blitz could rub down against him but had nothing inside of him any longer. He then placed the center of the fabric around Blitz’s eyes, over his ears and behind his head. Gentle fingers died it back between the spines on his head and neck, making sure that the knot sat between them in a way that was comfortable.

“A blindfold?” he breathed. He could feel his cunt leaking fluids down onto Ozzie’s lap since he was positioned almost on top of his legs. He really liked the way that he was able to pick up on the sounds of their breathing, hitching with arousal whenever one of them moved in a way that was able to tease their sexes. He could feel the brief touches of robotic and demonic fingers against his skin with so much more sensation now that he wasn’t focusing on the way that it looked as well.

“You seemed to like them when I brought them up to you last time,” Fizz replied. “Color?”

“Green,” he whined. “Can someone put something back in me?”

“You ask so nicely, you’re such a good boy,” Ozzie praised. “What do you think, Fizz?”

“I think that he deserves whatever he asks for, he doesn’t have to earn anything because he’s never been a bad boy before in his life,” Fizz replied matter-of-factly. The praise was doing things to Blitz that Stolas had never been able to do with all of his weird fetishizing comments. It was swirling around in his gut and creating a knot in his throat, but he also felt so insanely good already.

“Unlike you,” Ozzie teased.

“Please,” Blitz whimpered. “Please put something inside me, I’m good.”

He hadn’t even realized that he was going to say that until the words had come tumbling out of his lips. The other two snapped out of their fake squabble and all their attention was back on Blitz. “You are, you’re so good,” Ozzie murmured. His big hands came to rest on Blitz’s body, helping him once again shift.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with the other two, but he felt his hands move down onto the high cotton count bedspread, his calves and knees as well. He felt shocks of happy sensations rush through his body at how soft everything was, elevated by his inability to see it. That feeling was immediately overshadowed when something, what he recognized as a cockhead, brushed against his clit and then down to his hole.

“Please, please, please,” he begged. It felt good to ask for something when he knew that he was going to get it and nothing would come from not being able to complete a request afterwards.

“So good, so good for me,” Ozzie praised. One of his hands came to rest on Blitz’s back to hold him in place while the other was presumably the one that was moving his cock around. He pushed the head through the tight ring of muscles that led into his inner depths, which made Blitz let out a low moan of pleasure.

“Good for us,” Fizz corrected. His hands began to travel all over the imp in front of him, before they settled on his horns. He wrapped his thumb and middle finger around the base and then gently twisted them to the left, then the right. The amount of euphoria that rushed through Blitz from the simple motions would have killed him a year ago when he was so depressed that he could barely even feed himself.

Blitz opened his mouth to thank them but the only thing that was able to come out was a long-drawn out moan. His cunt clenched over and over again as he felt the thick cock behind him sinking down into his body. Ozzie’s balls slapped against the edge of Blitz’s cock as he finally got the last couple of inches in. Blitz had never really considered himself to be a size queen, but he wasn’t sure that anyone else was going to match what the king of Lust was doing to him now, he felt like his guts were being rearranged in the best way possible.

“He’s good, isn’t he? Daddy knows how to make us feel so good,” Fizz teased with that warble in his voice that Blitz had always been so in love with.

“Thank you, thank you!” he mewled as he pushed himself back on the massive member. He was surprised that he hadn’t already creamed himself from only being entered, but he was so glad that he hadn’t.

Ozzie wrapped both of his strong arms around the imp’s waist and lifted him up so that something could happen below him. The sheets rustled as Fizz apparently laid down, because when Blitz was lowered back into the all fours that he had been in before, he was now on top of his best friend.

“Can I take your cock for you, sir?” Fizz joked as he looped one of his legs around Blitz’s hips.

“You’re so dumb and you absolutely fucking can, that cunt looked so good,” Blitz groaned. He would have been happy to just lick at it, or place his head nearby and sniff it while being fucked by the King of Lust behind him. When he felt the warmth of his best friend wrapping tightly around his member, he realized that he wouldn’t have been because this was addictive.

“Just like that, you’re being so good for us,” Ozzie praised as he began a lazy pace. He pulled back just enough that half of his cock remained inside of Blitz before he thrust forward and speared him again, filling him up all the way. Every time that the Sin moved, it would cause Blitz’s own cock to slip from Fizz and then jam back in immediately afterwards. It was an addictive feeling with so much pleasure that he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Just like that, so good for us. You’re so wonderful at this, being so good,” Fizz praised. He made sure not to say anything about how Blitz was making them feel since that was something he had put in the orange zone of his colors, something not quite against but not quite comfortable with either.

Blitz leaned down so that his forehead was resting on what he assumed was Fizz’s shoulders. He could feel the material of the blindfold going damp as tears began to leak from his eyes. “Wait, Oz, stop,” Fizz said quietly. “Blitz, are you okay? I can feel you crying.”

“It’s good, I feel so good, never felt like this before,” he sobbed. “Keep going, please, keep going. I’m good. I’m not lying, I’m feeling so good right now.”

They very slowly began the pace that they had picked up earlier, thrusting in and out of Blitz until they were sure that he was telling the truth and picked back up. If he hadn’t been in the arms of people that he knew for certain loved him, he would have been so embarrassed of the fact that he was crying during sex. He was doing it because he felt like something cherished and special, which he thought was a reason to adore this moment instead of hide from the shame of it.

His mind began to grow hazy and fuzzy in the best way possible. The only thing that he could pay attention to was the moans and whimpers coming from either being wrapped around him, the way that pleasure moved and flowed through his body, and the affirmation of his color that was pouring from his mouth. It was the best thing that he had ever experienced and he felt like he was going to explode when his orgasm finally rushed over him.

Ozzie slammed his hips forward and in turn, shoved Blitz all the way into Fizz’s cunt. He paused when he felt the cunt around him clench down and Blitz whimper with his orgasm. Fizz gasped, “He’s filling me up, holy shit we should milk him next time, he’d like that.”

“Will do, froggy,” Ozzie chuckled. Blitz had already felt him orgasming for a good long while, filling him up with so much cum that he was surprised it wasn’t running down his legs.

“How you doing, Blitz?” Ozzie asked as he reached up and untied the silk blindfold that had been blocking his vision.

“Sleepy, good,” he mumbled. It was like his brain was only capable of producing tiny words instead of the long, coherent sentences that he normally spoke in.

“I think that you got him all the way down into subspace, Oz,” Fizz laughed. “I should have known that your dick was too good.”

“Hush, you,” Ozzie scoffed.

Both of them slipped off of the bed, the sin easily reaching for Blitz and picking him up in his arms. The hazy clouds were beginning to dissipate the longer that he was no longer being fucked like that, but it was still like he had been dropped into the center of Heaven. They brought him to the bathroom and the submerged him into the warm water of the tub. He knew that he was in there long enough for all three of them to get clean, before he was walked to the bedroom and dressed in a comfortable pair of cotton pajamas.

“Drink some of this for me, please,” Ozzie said softly as he brought a waterbottle to Blitz’s lips. He drank about half of it in the small sips that Ozzie would allow. Once he had finished it, he took the peanut butter cracker that Fizz offered him and easily got it down. 

Never in his life had he ever felt this good, and he wanted to remember what it was like to be cherished and cared for over and over again.

[gldrushsblog]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Aurora’s bakery is running smoothly, but her secrets? Not so much.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: This chapter contains mentions of past violence and struggle with mental health.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: ocs struggle continues, day in ocs life kind of chapter, also ocs parents make an appearance

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: just talked with my friends and life is so good!!

CHAPTER 5: AURORA

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the air, warm and comforting, as the brunette pulled the last loaf from the oven. The sun had started to peek over the horizon, casting a soft glow through the windows of the bakery, more than sign enough that Sunrise sweets had started its opening hours.

Normally, the early morning routine would be enough to soothe Aurora's nerves, but today, even the the rich and robust aroma filling the air wasn't enough to still the oh so exhausting conflict of thoughts in her head. Wiping her hands on her pink apron that read - Feeling downie? Eat a brownie - she looked over at lia, her back turned to her, displaying her blond hair that met with silver near the ends tucked in a bun as she arranged pastries in the display case.

Lia had been her rock, her best friend and the person who let her use a shoulder to lean on after a rough day or a night soaked in alcohol since they were both were six and awkward, and from that day they had found it embarrassingly hard to let go of each other's company. Lia following her to this city and supporting a hand around in the bakery while she also engaged in modeling gigs to chase her dream of being one was proof enough.

It was ridiculous to the brunette how she hadn't become one already with her charming face all across the big hoardings and displays.

"You done with the bread?" She asked, not turning to her yet.

"Uh- yeah.. yeah. I'm done. I'm done with the almond croissants, too. Mrs. Lee will be in any minute, and you know how she gets if they're not ready," Aurora replied, the chuckle leaving her mouth sounding forced rather than something that came easy to her, making the blonde head turn to face her.

There was that anxiety and worry in her eyes that ticked Aurora. She had been giving her that look a lot lately even after Aurora's countless attempts at brushing it off ever since the night lia dropped by for dinner- the night before the hellish one.

It made her feel guilty. There used to be no secrets between them, but then again, she'd rather have that than drag her to this mess.

"Rory, Mrs Lee is gone on a vacation." Lia said carefully and calmly. A flush of embarrassment crept up on the brunettes cheeks at that. "Oh.." Her mouth parted before she covered it up with another chuckle. "Must have slipped out of my stupid head." She said, her fist hitting her head in a dramatic mannerism, and oh, she could gag at that.

"Things are slipping out of your head a lot more than what I consider normal. Is everything really okay?" She asked for what seemed like the 80th time ever since that day. Did she suck so bad at acting?

"Nothing to worry about! Just the usual stuff, you know? Rent, bills, keeping this place running smoothly." she tried to sound nonchalant, pushing the nightmarish memories away.

Lia didn't look entirely convinced. Yet her response was a soft hum and not another inquiry of her well being.

She sighed internally at that but before she could turn back to her croissants, a soft and curious voice spoke again. "Speaking of bills, how much more till we save up enough to shut that slimy's bastard's mouth up?" She didn't miss how her tone turned irritated at last.

"You've already got so much on your plate. You don't need to worry about saving up above all that." She sighed. Well, modeling did took a sweet amount of money and Aurora was content in making a deal with the devil than be a speed breaker in her best friend's path to her dream.

Lia's expression softened, but the worry didn't leave her eyes. "I just don't want you to carry this burden alone, Aurora. Especially not when it's a impossibly big one."

"Oh, lia." She breathed, crossing the distance between them and taking her hand in hers to squeeze it in affirmation. "You know I appreciate your concern. I really do." A thought crossed her mind- I want to tell her everything. Everything about the reckless deal she had made with a man far more dangerous than Mr Choi.

Instead, she swallowed the truth, hoping that her reassurances would be enough. "I've been exploring some options," she said, choosing her words carefully. "We might not have to worry about that creep for much longer." I will just have to worry about a blood thirsty demon.

Lia looked at her with suprise flickering in her eyes. "Really? What kind of options?"

Before she could think of another cover-up, the bell above the door chimed. She thanked the gods above for the interruption before scurrying away to attend the person behind the counter.

୨୧

The sky had darkened to a deep indigo, and the city lights were illuminating the streets with a faint glow. After a long day of dealing with all kind of sugary goods and making sure lia wasn't wary of when she'd sometimes zone out, her eyes lingering a little too long at the spot she saw a man's brains spill out, Aurora was making her way to her apartment.

Even the familiarity of the space she lived in was replaced by a chilling unease since the most unexpected series of events played out in the places she seeked comfort in the most.

So she opted for the next best thing.

"Aurora!" A middle-aged woman with comforting features spoke with a voice as warm and cheerful as ever, her eyes lighting up when she saw the younger verison of her behind the screen. "There's my girl!"

"Hi, mumma!" She greeted as she held the phone up to her face while sitting on the couch while holding a cup of hot cocoa in another, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit.

Before the older woman could start to go on and on asking about her daughter's well-being, another familiar face appeared in the frame. "Rory-bug!" Her father's face practically invaded all of the space on the screen as he pushed in with a grin before squinting slightly as he leaned back.

She couldn't help but laugh at his struggle with technology. "Papa!"

"How's the most handsome man in the world doing?" He grinned again at that. Daniel Beckett was a reserved man with a tough front he had made up in all the years he had served in the police yet was the softest around his two most favorite girls.

"Not good since my rory bug is nine thousand, six hundred kilo meters away from me." He said with a frown, making the woman beside him and in front of him break into a laugh again. He was extra like that.

"Your old man can be dramatic.." Her mother side eyed her husband, who only kissed her head in response, and Aurora regained her faith in unconditional love. She always did when she saw her parents together. They were a crucial reason why she had grown to be a hopeless romantic.

"But he's right. We miss you a lot, baby. How's everything going at the bakery?" She tried not to tense up at the mention of her bakery and forced her smile to keep in place. "Yeah, everything's going well. It's been busy, but in a good way."

Her mother's eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when she sensed something was off but softened again. "Well, that's nice to hear that you've been busy, but just don't push yourself too hard, rory. You've always had a tendency to take on more than you can handle."

"Your mom's right," the man beside her chimed in, his voice full of fatherly concern. "If things get too much, you know you can always come home for a bit. Take a break." There did not go a conversation with her father where he didn't tried convincing her to come back home at least once.

"I know, Papa. But I've got it under control," she assured them, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "That's my girl." Her father encouraged, making her feel lighter.

While her mother gave her a gentle smile, the kind that always made everything seem a little better. "We just worry about you, baby. It's not easy being so far away, not being able to help you when you need it."

"I know, Mom. I miss you both so much," she admitted, her voice almost giving away the vulnerable emotions that had been overwhelming her. But she knew better than that, one hint of her in distress, and they both would be having a crisis of their own.

"We miss you too, Aurora," Daniel said. "But we're proud of you, you know that? You're doing something amazing with that bakery." Her eyes crinkled up. "Thanks, Papa."

"How's lia doing, rory? How's it going with her modeling? Aunt Ruby always seems to worry about you both out there." She was grateful for the change of topic her mother brought.

"She's doing well, mumma. Modeling agencies are soon gonna be lining up at her feet, so tell Aunt Ruby there's nothing to worry about." No wonder, lia is always exploiting her blood pressure. "We're both big girls." She added with her chin slightly tipping up, earning a laugh from her parents.

From there, she steered the conversation towards more mundane topics- Papa's most recent attempt at tinkering with that old car of his that he has been calling classic for the last twenty years, Mumma's gardening, their family dog's Pluto's health- things that connected her to the life she had left behind. Things that made her feel distant from the chaos that had been her life for the past few days.

But she was once again pulled back from the comfort of it all. This time, it was from a ring on her door.

"There's someone on the door.." She trailed on, making a movement to stand up and go attend the person behind. "I will have to go now, but I will talk to you guys later. Love you, mumma. Love you, Papa." She ended, finally turning to them with a departuring smile that was met with a load of "I love yous" and flying kisses sent across her way before the call ended.

Setting down her phone, she neared the door, but before she could twist the knob open, a crisp white envelope fell from the sharp, slit like opening at the bottom.

A frown twisted on her features, and she bent down to pick up the envelope.

Carefully pulling away the seal, she pulled out a single piece of paper that was mostly blank if not for the small, bold text written across the middle that read.

"Expect me soon."

To be continued..

→ Previous chapter.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hugs! I saw your repost of some ADC FTWD pics. Was she in a podcast talking about how unhappy she was? So you know which one?

Yeah the ELLE podcast she just did, she talks about how being in that apoc environment nonstop for so many years without really having established a homebase for herself here in the states was effecting her mental health and happiness. I'll link the podcast below, but the way she made it sound was just that basically constantly working on such a an intense show without having a real homebase or roots or an established support system that she could unerringly fall back on was slowly getting her to a place where she was kinda losing herself in the work. She was starting to do things like feel so tired at the end of the night of shooting that she'd debate if it was even worth washing off the dirt and blood from filming because she'd just have to be back up in 6hrs, so what's the point. She alluded to the fact that while her mind knew the things they were filming and this arrid, lifeless landscape she was constantly in wasn't real, she was starting to have a problem with her body becoming confused and being too attuned with being in that hellish kind of environment. It sounded almost as if her fight or flight system and general feeling of happy vs. hopeless was starting to acclimate and align way too much with constantly being in that apocalyptic world (she didn't say that last part directly, but I'd bet money that's what she meant without saying it.)

Which makes sense. I mean she's not from the states, she was the youngest on the show among a group of people who all have spouses and families and homes here, she didn't have a house here for years which meant she was living out of a suitcase both while filming and after, she didn't have a partner at the time, she was bouncing from friends to friends to friends who all had their own established support systems and their own jobs. So there she was in her offtime, trying to disconnect from this apocalyptic mindset that she'd been rotating in and out of for the last 4+years in this endless grind of like 7-8 months of filming every year, but not ever really having anywhere or anyone solid to help ground her.

It sounds like it was lonely. And really mentally depleting, and I'm glad she stepped back when she did. If anything she probably should've done it sooner, but from everything she says about herself she seems like someone who is really hard on herself and very focused on always doing things perfectly ya know? Idk, but sad situation and one I'm sure is more common among actors who work on long projects or especially dark projects than people talk about openly.

Anyway here's the podcast, it's pretty good. Not really the canned answers of media training or promoting a project, a lot more actually just hearing what she has to say and so on

Apple podcast

Spotify podcast

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

I have so much work to do, it isn't even funny, and here I am, doing none of it. So, instead of just sitting in front of my computer and letting anxiety eat me up, I'm going to see how married life is treating Minglan.

I have three shows that I am actively watching right now. It's a battle to choose which one to watch at any given time. The struggle is real 😫

***

Well, he's feeling energetic the morning after 😅

***

LMAO, OK, so I know that the implication here is that he has great stamina and wore her out, but, honestly, my first thought was that she must have been doing all the physical work of their first night together, so she's now tired and he's up and about doing acrobatics 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, I'm on her side here!

Sleep above all!

To hell with the shitty in-laws.

***

What a thing to tell your newly-wedded wife!

Yikes 😬

***

LMAOOOO 🤣🤣

Hopefully he, ahem, learned other skills at the brothel instead 🤣🤣

He's so fully of nonsense, I cannot 🤣🤣

***

Ugh, these vipers.

The sooner they move out, the better.

***

Who?

***

AGAIN, WHO??

Honestly, my stance for this drama is that anyone who wants to commit suicide should be allowed to 🙄

***

Wait, is she implying that Gu Tingye is sleeping with this woman?

Because, seriously? SERIOUSLY??

Now they are straight-up lying to stir up trouble in their marriage! AND THIS IS, LIKE, THE FIRST DAY!! 🤬🤬

Minglan, don't be an idiot. Don't believe them!

***

Oh, and the lot of you are soooooo worried about how some random servant who is sleeping with the master of the house is going to live 🙄🙄

I cannot with the what-the-fuckery on display here 🤬🤬

GU TINGYE, WHERE ARE YOU?

THIS IS SLANDER!!

***

Even if any of this was true, WHO GIVES A FUCK??

OK, so, personal story time. Skip for TMI, or something. IDC.

When I was nineteen, I was living away from home for the first time in a dormitory and I had these roommates. I was a very stupid, naive, sexually inexperienced, frontal-cortex-still-entirely-udeveloped nineteen. I was studying architecture, the hours were ridiculous, the living conditions were atrocious (and I mean no hot water, communal toilets for the entire floor, no privacy whatsoever, perpetually drunk, eternally partying next-door neighbours bringing creepy men over, it was absolute hell with no recourse) and I was really, really struggling to keep afloat.

My self-esteem also wasn't the greatest and I'd spent my entire teens feeling unlovable and unattractive because, idk, I didn't look like Naomi Campbel, and was told from numerous sides that being some random average girl was just not enough. My mental health went down the drain that year and it never really recovered. I hadn't been doing particularly great even before that, but it was like that whole hellish mess snapped some final thread in me and it was just a downward spiral after downward spiral for years after that. It took an additional ten years to get diagnosed and put on meds because everyone is just so stupid and when you are young, you don't know how to advocate for yourself, or even that you should be doing so.

And then there were these roommates.

There were three of them, all older than me, and we lived in this tiny twelve-square-metre room with three single beds (two of them had to share because one of them was a friend who was there "illegally" because she had lost her right to accommodation for repeating the year and didn't want to go back to her parent's home for the time being and I was too stupid to put my foot down, report her and tell her to fuck off). The two legal ones were sisters.

And let me tell you, I was so in AWE of them! All three were tall, beautiful, put together and confident! They were incredibly popular and had men crawling all over them. I felt pathetic in comparison. I wasn't jealous, not exactly, I just felt inadequate and held the two sisters on this incredibly high pedestal because they seemed so smart and gorgeous (not so much the friend, because even though she was beautiful too, she had this self-absorbed, self-centred, flighty, shallow character that I just couldn't respect). The sisters, however, were everything I wished I could be, especially the younger one.

That particular sister, let's call her M, was also studying architecture. She was in year four (compared to my miserable first year) and she was doing so well, her work was amazing. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was the epitome of elegance, intelligence and beauty in my eyes. She could do no wrong. Hero worship was in full swing, I couldn't imagine she could be any more perfect even if I tried.

And then a few months into our hellish living arrangement, I found out that she was fooling around with this worthless guy who was cheating on his long-term girlfriend with her. They had an on-again-off-again relationship. They had broken up before because he refused to leave the official girlfriend, but for whatever reason, she was in love with his mediocre ass and kept going back to him. I was shocked when the whole story came out. There she was, the most perfect girl I had ever known, letting this cheating loser string her along like that. It was gross.

Let me tell you, that pedestal I put her on came crumbling down so fast because even my infatuated, naive, sleep-deprived and chemically imbalanced brain knew this was very wrong (it took me several more years and another incident with a woman I was super close to and had adored for years to teach me not to mess with cheaters and the people they cheat with because they are always fundamentally deficient in some hidden (or not so hidden) ways and that whatever damage they have that lets them act in this way will eventually drag you down too, but I digress).

In my shock, I asked her, why? Of all people, why him? This girl was so gorgeous, she could have had any man on the planet. She said they were in love. And I asked her, if he loved her so much, why didn't he break up with his girlfriend (mind you, the girlfriend fully thought they were getting married sometime in the near future). It seemed so obvious to me, if he truly loved her, he should have ended his previous relationship and dated her openly.

AND SHE TOLD ME THIS EXACT SAME LINE. THIS COMPLETE BULLSHIT OF A MANIPULATIVE EXCUSE.

Apparently, the shitty cheater couldn't break up with the girlfriend because the girlfriend had sworn that if he broke up with her, she would never marry anyone else and stay single her whole entire life. And he, the poor baby, couldn't live with that, so he couldn't leave her 🤯🤯

I had never heard something more ridiculous in my life. It was so absurd, and it was so world-altering for me that this perfect girl, the girl I had thought was so put together and so incredibly smart, was TAKING THIS UTTER STUPIDITY SERIOUSLY. I still remember it so clearly, even after all these years. It didn't make sense then and it still doesn't make sense now. It's the XXI century!! Break up with the woman you don't love!! What the hell is this nonsense?? WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE DECIDES TO NEVER MARRY ANYONE ELSE? IT IS NO LONGER YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!!

Also, all these people were in their early fucking twenties, the absolute delusion that any of her threats (if they were even real and not made up by the loser cheater because all cheaters ever do is lie) were in any way a real and enforceable thing that would come to pass. BUT EVEN IF SHE NEVER DID GET MARRIED? SO FUCKING WHAT? NOT YOUR CIRCUS, NOT YOUR MONKEYS.

And there she was, sneaking around with this garbage man because he gave her this nonsensical excuse. The stupidity is unending. I cannot. I could not and will never be able to can 🙄🙄

And back to the actual show now.

WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE NEVER MARRIES? WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT BLACKMAIL IS THAT? FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF AND THEN KEEP FUCKING OFF SOME MORE UNTIL YOU DROP INTO A DEEP BLACK HOLE AND KEEP DROPPING UNTIL YOU REACH THE EARTH'S CORE AND DISINTEGRATE IN THE LAVA.

Ugh.

***

WHO THE FUCK CAAAAAARES 🤬🤬

Also, let's not forget that these are the very people who wanted to murder Manniang and Gu Tingye's actual children with her. They are so concerned with the status of a lower-class servant sleeping with the Young Master and how she will raise her head in public and go on living. So, so, so concerned 🙄🙄

***

Minglan, please tell them to fuck all the way off.

I am beyond pissed.

***

OMFG.

I am beyond sick of these wretched bottom feeders and their "path of survival" 🤮

BITCH, DIE.

***

True! Let's all ask him!!

I am sure he will just love all this slander.

This whole thing is just beyond WTF.

***

What exactly were her parents supposed to teach her?

Just take in some random prostitute for her husband the day after she was married? What the actual fuck is wrong with this woman? Worms for brains, I swear. The audacity is astounding.

***

OH MY GOD, THEN GO DIE ALREADY

I am so tired 🙄

***

This dumb fucking bully.

The best thing that ever happened to women was emancipation and no longer having to live in their in-laws' homes.

***

LMAO, how many statuses do these mistresses that the wife is forced to support even have?

Fuck off with this bullshit.

***

MINGLAN, ARE YOU SERIOUS

***

LMAO, wait, what?

They accused him of raping this woman?

Speechless.

Gu Tingye, please take your wife and fuck off from this place.

***

LMAO, Gu Tingye keeps making good life choices!

Gu Tingye is not among my favourite characters by a long stretch, but I do appreciate him so very much!

Go, king! Protect your wife and stay winning!!

***

Don't you just love it when utterly disgraceful people start blathering about not getting the respect they feel entitled to 🙄

Gross family.

[thelostpassenger]

I am currently playing Batman: The Telltale Series, and there is a point at which after Harvey (who seems to be suffering from a severe mental/emotional breakdown) is apprehended, you, playing as Batman, have the choice between sending Harvey to Blackgate Prison or to Arkham Asylum. This was, by far, one of the hardest choices that I had to make in the game because it is canonically almost always the case (with this game being no exception) that both options would be pretty much equally as bad because Arkham IS a prison that doesn’t actually provide legit mental health care for its “patients.”

This also, however, goes to show why, even though I enjoy the Batman universe overall, I do not like Batman. Does he save lives and help put a stop to evil? Yes, but he is also a symptom of a much larger problem that he, in addition to slowing down, perpetuates. He KNOWS that Arkham is a garbage place, not only because he says so himself earlier in the game when he, as Bruce Wayne, is trying to campaign for a new mental health facility to be constructed because Arkham is more harmful than it is helpful (by his own admission) but also because he experienced it firsthand when he was wrongfully imprisoned there by Harvey and Lady Arkham. He KNOWS that Arkham is more a hellish prison than it is a mental health institution, and the game still only gives you those two options because Bruce Wayne, instead of helping Gotham out in ways that he actually could with his wealth and fortune, is cosplaying as Dracula every night and carrying out all his dark, violent fantasies, and yep, that checks out.

[aeimygdala]

having a grand ol time reading about narcolepsy for sources (i have type 2)

Narcolepsy does not cause serious or long-term physical health problems, but it can have a significant impact on daily life and be difficult to cope with emotionally- via https://www.nhs.uk

i think every health source that peddles this should be shut down and the doctors should kill themselves and i'm NOT being hyperbolic, this horseshit is fucking deadly

inability to regulate sleep cycles means ALL sleep cycles. it means many of us can't sleep properly at NIGHT. sleep is one of THE main needs all humans need for our health

due to the abnormal and increased REM duration, narcoleptics are often unable to get the kind of restorative deep sleep that people need to be healthy and live long lives

so what the FUCK do you mean that doesn't have long-term and serious physical health problems. what the FUCK Do you mean, "not being able to properly get restorative sleep doesn't have long term physical health problems" i hope everyone saying that fucking dies i'm so serious they're all so fucking evil this is why public perception of narcolepsy is so FUCKED UP because nobody outside of narcoleptic want to talk about how it can destroy your health and life because you can't EVER sleep properly!! it's not just "falling asleep during the day" it's ALL YOUR SLEEP IS FUCKED!!! this makes me so FUCKING ANGRY. i wish people gave a shit about the symptoms of narcolepsy that aren't so outwardly "unproductive" because they don't fucking care that we're living hellish lives of no rest!! the first line treatments is JUST STIMULANTS to keep you awake, no treatment for the sleep issues at night!!! the treatments to help you sleep at night are hyper-regulated and crazy expensive bc the company gets its money off of thousand dollar insurance payouts!! and they can have severe mental health side effects for a lot of people, like uhhh ME, and there's no other option!!! i'm going to fucking SCREAM!!! why do people only care about the current visible symptoms that make people unproductive members of society and not the long term health impacts!!!

[thatonesystemig]

What it's like to have cptsd, did, and schizoaffective disorder

(Tw: this goes into my past and involves horrible things that happened to me like abuse and SA)

Not speaking for everyone else's experience being diagnosed with DID, CPTSD, or schizoaffective, but this is what I went through, have been going through for a bit, and will probably go through until the day I die or the inevitable heat death of the universe happens, whichever comes first:

I can't control when I switch "personalities", better known as alters. I can't control what triggers me to switch, and the triggers change depending on what alter I am at the moment. Each of my alters have a very small grip/understanding on what gets us to switch.. but we can't just make it happen when we want to like others that have the same disorder can seem to do.

When I get overly anxious or feel too much of an emotion I get very lovely textile and auditory hallucinations. The specific textile hallucinations are what I call "the crawlies", where it feels like there are bugs literally crawling all over me. It's very itchy and ive nearly scratched myself raw from it before. Auditory hallucinations range anywhere from single words, the stupidest shit, demonic voices, violent voices, just overall negative voices, etc. I've heard it all

I only know who I am (half the time) based on how I type/talk, how I act, walk, what pronouns/name feels like 'me' in that moment, etc. Sure we're able to "talk" with each other, mainly by journaling and looking back/looking back at texts we've sent people or posts we've made on social media. We make mental notes on each other by reading things we've wrote/been told we do. Like I have 3 alters that switch between fronting, and 4 that are mainly protectors/harmy/a little that stay out of the way that I only know exist due to what I've seen and been told. By the way, what I mean by "little" for those that don't know is that my brain gets so fucked up when I switch sometimes it's like I woke up one day as a 4-5 year old. Like im convinced im 4-5, i only have the mental capacity of a 4-5 year old. Its super fucking embarassing and I hate it because one of the very few times I switched into that alter I got taken advantage of by someone I was with for 10+ years. But I'll get into it later. I dont know when I do it unless that alter becomes traumatized by something that happens in that state and you know, I have constant nightmares every fucking night about it. Yeah apparently that's a thing that can happen. I dont control it. I just blank out and have other people tell me that alter was in control, or that I was acting weird.

I have absolutely shit memory, and the blanking out is hellish. I feel like I have dementia, and unfortunately, with most schizo-typal disorders, I most likely will unless they somehow find something to prevent or reverse that in my lifetime. I know I'm most likely going to end up in either an asylum, nursing home, or a ward the rest of my life when I get older due to being so far gone. I journal so much now because when I'm to that point, I want my family to remember the person (or should I say the parts that make up me ig) I used to be. Im absolutely terrified of where my mental health is going to be when I'm 50+ because I've been in and out of psych wards since I was 14 (mainly just to adjust meds when psychs wont do their job or my trauma gets to me way too badly, worry not, im not TOO crazy lmao.. tho I am crazy ngl). I also take 6-7 pills a day depending on the day I'm having (some are as needed). Im only 27 yet I'm already starting to lose a grip on reality and I'm terrified. My trauma and multitudes of mental health issues drive me fucking insane. It's terrifying when you don't remember a majority of your life, let alone what yesterday was like, other than the trauma that constantly haunts you and what you write to your friends/in journals/have to look back on.

Art is my biggest passion, and I hope when I die from either my own hand/my mental health getting to the point of no return I can at least be remembered for that. I know it's cringy chubby furry girls and landscapes but it makes me so happy to draw.

My mental health, especially my DID, is something I'm completely ashamed to talk about other than on reddit, my secret tumblr, and with certain friend groups on discord for a multitude of reasons. Those being that I don't know who to trust with this information anymore. My ex used it to his advantage and did shit to me (technically my little) and I still have nightmares over to the point where I stay up from 1-2 days at a time then sleep for a full day. Force myself to say up by drinking a shit ton of coffee and smoking nearly a pack a day. Didn't realize the shit happened until after the same nightmare kept replaying over and over and over in my head. Kept it to myself because I really loved this guy. Didn't want to believe he was a monster. Kept telling myself that wasnt what really happened, that it was my brain making it up.

I was with him for 10 years, we planned to get married and spend the rest of our lives together. But it's been over a year since the incident happened and the trauma keeps snowballing. After the incident I went from wanting to be around him 24/7 along with the other partner we were with, to being so scared and driven to near panic whenever either of them would call or text and being afraid to go outside out of fear of seeing them. Still struggle with that. I finally realized it was an actual memory after I talked to my psych about it.

She told me not only did I have the same trauma and reaction to this all as a victim of SA, after I explained to her how it felt like it was much more than a dream because there were way too many.. specific things, but that when it comes to people with some form of PTSD, they either have 'flashbacks' or nightmares of the very traumatic event over and over again and relive it. Mostly seen in veterines and people who have gone through shitty stuff like me. We also talked about other things that went on in the relationship over the 10 years we were together because there was a lot of stuff that happened to me that was nowhere NEAR normal and I was convinced that it was because my feelings were always invalidated, i was always told what made me upset was nothing to be upset over, that everything they both did to me was normal. Psych what they did was abuse, that they both seem to have narcissistic tendencies, and seemed to have this weird need to control me and make me into what they wanted me to be. And of course my dumbass didn't fucking listen until it all came to a head.

I finally broke up with him just as it started to snowball, right after our other partner broke up with me for venting in my discord server of all things, about something that wasn't even vaguely related to them because it made them look bad that I couldnt come to either one of them, despite them getting mad at me and kinda resenting me for coming to them too much because "I needed to deal with it on my own and not rely on anyone as much." Though to be fair, I was coming to them a lot so I can kinda get where they're coming from. Idk I think I just. Expected a relationship to fix me? Idk, still thinking about this one.

Then they'd get mad when I went to friends to vent about anything because apparently it makes them look like bad partners?? Idk. I kinda spaced out those past few months aside from the fucked up stuff they did to me, but somewhere between a visit with my psych and a week long stay at the psych ward when i was about ready to cease existance from not wanting to face the truth, my original childhood diagnosis of PTSD was changed to CPTSD. Still don't really understand the difference tbh. To me theyre just forms of PTSD, C in front of it or not. If youre wondering why i had the diagnosis of PTSD in the first place, i went through some very fucked up shit as a kid ive already worked through. Then i subjected myself to even more fucked up shit because of love and i also thought it was the best there was and everyone was like that. Yeahhhh there was a lot of fucked up shit in that relationship.

I stayed friends with them after the fact despite how much it was fucking with my mental health because despite what my psych said, I was still in complete denial of what happened to me and it was easier to accept their lies than the truth. I confronted him about it. He didn't say anything, he just blocked me. Then my other ex, his partner, messaged me asking to explain. So I explained to them and they p much told me they both didn't know I was in that state.. when they both knew because they both acknowleged I was. Both knew i have DID. Both knew who i was. They even went as far to acknowlege that alter and kept me away from their family the same night it happened because they didnt want their family to see me like that. I know this because the same fucking scene replays in my head when I sleep, like when I had to eat out on the porch away from the family while they all ate inside because they didnt want them to see that im that fucked in the head, nor explain it.

I can still taste the fucking steak and feel the summer breeze. Isn't that hilarious.

They also told me he didn't stop because I didn't use the safe word (when I told him repeatedly I didn't want to, when I told him I was scared, and he told me to "just fucking do it anyways" "don't be scared, it's what mommies and daddies do") Then I let him do whatever because everyone in my body loved and trusted this guy so i should too right??

So I forced myself to believe what I was told I kept telling myself that it was just in my head, I just had some fucked up repetitive nightmare that was the same that scared me too badly, and that they'd never do that to me.

The trauma kept getting worse. I kept having that same god damn nightmare. But started having different nightmares that weren't trauma based that did involve them. Still made me terrified to sleep. I want to forget how they both look. How they both sound. Everything about them so I can fucking move on with my life. Every single night, be it reliving one of the most traumatic events of my life, or just a regular dream, they fucking worm their way in and show up and turn it into a nightmare because I start panicking.

Half the time I sleep in the chair because I kick my husband or my roomie/best friend in my sleep (yes we share a bed it's complicated). I hate hurting either of them. Ive done it multiple times and I really don't want my personal demons to keep them from getting the rest they need.

I confided in a handful of my most trusted friends about it like idk, 3-5 months after it happened. I wasnt doing it to start shit or "spread rumors" like they told all our mutual friends when one of those friends told them about what i hoped theyd keep to themselves (a lot I didn't even tell. And a lot didn't know what 'rumors' he was talking about until they asked me). I did it because I was hurting and I felt so alone and broken. That it was some dirty little secret I kept. I just wanted someone to comfort me because I felt so fucking alone.

The trauma still hits. From when the incident happened up until now, I developed really bad agoraphobia. I was afraid of going outside at all because there's a few people in the trailer park I live in with the same make, model, and color of the car they have and im paranoid that maybe they moved into the park im at and I didn't know.

I was afraid of going out in public in the slight chance that they might be where I am. And the one moment I got comfortable enough to go back to my favorite coffee shop location for the first time in many, many months I swore I heard one of their voices and thought they were talking shit about me and had to leave. I had a breakdown in the car and just. Cried for awhile, all during the ride home and a little after. Thankfully my roomie/best friend was with me to calm me down while i drove (only reason she didnt is because i was trying to force myself to focus on something. Anything) Then I became so numb when i got home. I just leaned back on the loveseat in my room and stared at the ceiling for god knows how long, feeling not.. there. Then i blacked out. Don't really remember what happened after but the next time I guess, gained consciousness was the next day while I was in the middle of making coffee. So because of this experience I'm even more paranoid of leaving the house so I just don't. I don't even hang out with friends. I'm too scared of seeing their car on the road when I'm driving.

I know this all sounds really stupid and yall probably think I'm beyond crazy or need to be in a psych ward idk.

I mainly keep my mental health to myself now other than with my family, online friends who don't live near me and can't physically harm me with the information, or very very close friends with similar issues to me that have an understanding of it. because I've realized even the people you trust with your entire life, no matter how long they've known you for, how much they claim to love you, will use your shit mental health to take advantage of you when they think they can get away with it.

And despite how bad it sounds, it's not all doom and gloom. I met my best friend when I went to the psych ward around the time me and the exes broke up. I know the doctors tell you not to do that at all, but if I didn't, I wouldn't be where I am now. I thank God every single day I didnt listen to those doctors. She offered me a place to stay, and since an ex friend of mine that lived with me kept trying to drag me into dangerous stuff with them, I agreed.

My best friend, what started out as her boyfriend, and I started dating a few months after I moved in because I fell. Very deeply in love with them. Yeah I knew it probably wasn't a good idea but they were the first people that I ever felt like.. I actually belonged with. They'd tell me how much they love me and appreciate me all the time, how my best friend always wants me to be a parent to her 3 year old even if anything happens between us.

Well, hate to spoil it, but my best friend and I did break it off, she also broke it off with my boyfriend, but we're still on good terms (otherwise I wouldn't call her my best friend lol) and I still consider her son my son aahahha.

Anyways, about our living situation. Everyone living in the house are: My hubby, my hubbys ex and her partner because they have an agreement they'd all always coparent their kids together, let them grow up together, and not let their relationship not working out keep them from living together and raising the kiddos together cuz it was just easier that way. Together my fiance and his ex have 3 boys, one being nearly out the door because he's an adult. My fiancé's ex and her partner have a little girl together who I have the pleasure of being the god mother of, and my best friend and her toddler which I also consider mine. She's also on her way out the door, settling some custody stuff first with her baby daddy, then moving her and the kiddo elsewhere.

I know this sounds stressful, but its actually the opposite. Yeah as a family we get on each other's nerves, but we all love each other. We rarely fight. My fiancé's ex and her partner are also some of my closest friends as well, in fact we have a little ladies night coming up where were gonna let my god daughter do our hair, makeup, and nails. She requested we wear face masks with little cucumbers over the eyes like in the movies. She's precious.

And then my fiance, I flip between calling him my fiance and hubby because we're getting officially married on the 9th haha. And ik what it sounds like, yall might think my best friend is jealous or upset over it. No. The breakup was on mutual terms, and she's even offered to let me wear her old wedding dress since we're the same size, so I'm really looking forward to that.

For once in my life, after all the pain I've been through, I feel like I belong somewhere. I feel like i belong right here. And ive never felt like that before. I was trying to convince myself that with my exes, told myself that being with them is what true happiness feels like, that i belonged, because life really is that shitty and i should just settle for that because it wont get better. This is better than the horrible shit you went through in your childhood, so it must be the best, right? Then i moved in. Fell in love with the family, with how they accepted me. for once i know what true happiness feels like. My hubby, all my kids and everyone in the house adores me and make sure I know every day in different ways. And don't get me wrong, just because I felt like I didn't belong anywhere in the past doesnt mean I didn't love/care for the people I lived with, or that I'm not greatful for what they've done for me and all that. I just felt like a burden more than I was wanted around because a lot of folks couldn't accept my mental health issues/didn't like my breakdowns/got tired of me/started to resent me/etc.

But for once I feel like I'm not a burden. That I belong somewhere. Being a step mother and wife have given me this purpose, and I've been here for a year now. For once I don't feel like I have to do anything to earn love because its just freely given.

As scared as I am of the future, and as much as I hate dealing with my mental health issues and trauma, I didn't go through all that shit for nothing, because if I didn't go through what I went through, I wouldn't be where I am now.

I wouldn't have ended up in the psych ward from the crippling trauma and thoughts. I wouldn't have met my best friend. I wouldn't have met my husband. I wouldn't have met my family or found where I truly belonged.

Anyways, I'm going to end this whole essay about my life since my hubby wants me to come into the bedroom and cuddle him and talk for a bit. That'll cheer me up a bit more, besides who can resist a cuddly cutie?

If you read all this, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[mars-and-the-theoi]

Day 8 of Deity Devotion Challenge: ⚡️Zeus⚡️

Question- What’s the most valuable lesson your deity has taught you? That it’s okay to be human. Sounds silly, I know, but hear me out. In case y’all don’t know I’m disabled and I’m also no stranger to struggling with my mental health. This makes a consist worship schedule/habit not feasible for me. And I used to beat myself up about that so much (and honestly I still do sometimes). Because I would feel so bad about my inconsistency. Like I would go months w/o doing anything religion related sometimes like I wouldn’t even do altar cleanings for a long time sometimes. And I would try for consistency, and I could keep it up for a bit, but it usually never lasted more than a month at a time.

And it all kind of came to a head last year where my guilt about it was at its worst. Early 2022 had been hellish I mean truly I became super sick, needed surgery, had to take care of a family member after they’d had surgery, had a mental breakdown and ended up hospitalized, and had covid all within the first few months of 2022. So obviously worship and all that very much fell to the side and while I felt bad about that there wasn’t much else I could do. And finally, come June I was able to finally get back into it after not doing anything since January. And I felt horrible. I remember crying as I cleaned his altar and just apologizing cause I felt like I’d neglected Him in a way and I prayed to him and gave him an offering and that was that.

Then that night I had a dream with Him and I’m not going to go into all the mushy details but He was just like ‘it’s okay. I’m not mad at you about this. Like it’s been a rough few months for you and it’s okay that you prioritized yourself and it’s okay that you were in circumstances where worship just wasn’t a priority. It’s okay. I get it. We all get it. We know things come up that make worshiping hard. We do. It’s okay’ and I just felt so much better. Because They do. They all get it.

And I share this story knowing that this is something a lot of people struggle with but rest assured that they’re much more familiar with us than we tend to give them credit for. Shit happens. Life can get chaotic. Life gets busy, stressful, tiring. We get sick. Get hurt. Have to move unexpectedly. We have exams. Work overtime. Work weird hours. Have people to take care of. So on and so forth. But these things aren’t new. These have been traits of humanity since the dawn of time. The Gods have been around for a very long time too. So they get it, they know, and they aren’t mad.

[raptorsaurusmelain]

Let me show you... Youtube - chapter 26

I was a little burn out after my project but @boba-tea-fish comments gave me strength to write a chapter today. It is a mental health centered chapter.

Warning : no proof reading, English is not my mother tongue.

If you are interested in reading this fic, the tag "#twst lmsyy" will give you all the chapters.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It was like a revelation for her. [Of course, that is the only explanation. All those weird whispers, those sounds… Plus, my ex ?? Couldn’t I choose someone else ? Like Morgan Freeman ? At least he could narrate my life with his beautiful voice.]

She sent her crochet flying. She was angry at herself. How could she even let her mental state become this wrecked ?

She laid down. The duvet and bed weren’t comfortable anymore. It was as if she was laying on the ground in the middle of the hallway of Ramshackle. It was hard. It was cold. If it was a sound, it would be like scratching metal. Disturbing. Strident sound. A call for help. What she didn’t know was what aspect this call for help will sound like in real life.

The tonic made an effect a few hours later, allowing her some kind of relief for her neurons. It was a night without any dreams or nightmares. It was just like passing out, like Crewel promised.

When she woke up, she had slept for approximately 5h, which was not a lot for an ill brain.

She stood up. She felt like her body was in a numb state. It was going to be a hellish week to survive until the doctor appointment.

She moved little by little to wear a pair of black leggings and an oversized t-shirt. The bare minimum. She wasn’t feeling like putting on make-up. She would be ugly for a week. Or more, if it stayed. It was going to stay, she knew it, but she was lying to herself because she needed to feel better fast. For Yuu. For Grim. They needed her.

She went out of her room and prepared breakfast. Yuu arrived in their school uniform, Grim by their side.

The woman smiled at the view. “Are you already going back to school ? You could stay a little bit longer at home, you know.”

Yuu smiled in return. “No, I have to go back to school at some point. I want to be able to survive in my environment, so I need to learn as much as I can. Like you said.”

The oldest blinked. [I did say that but I wasn’t expecting it to have an impact on Yuu…]. Victoria nodded. “Alright, if you think so. Who am I to stop you ?”

They went to school, hands in hands. All 3 needed strength in their own ways. Yuu needed help to cross the school gate. Victoria needed help to be able to work for the day. And Grim just needed help with his grade. It was exam season soon, they needed to pass. She needed money to shelter them, so they wouldn't be thrown out.

Before school started, she dropped by Crewel’s desk.

She looked left and right before entering the teacher’s lounge, hoping that Crowley and Trein wouldn’t be there. She didn’t need useless stress or nagging today. Or for a few days. Let’s make it a week.

Crewel saw her doing her little shenanigan. “Searching for someone ?”

Victoria was happy to see him. Like genuinely happy. And it showed on her face. “Dr Crewel ! I wanted to thank you for the tonic.”

He looked at her in silence for what seemed to be hours. She asked, doubtfully. “... Yes ?”

The man asked. “Did you wake up late ?”

The woman blinked. “No… Why ?”

Crewel bent to watch her closely. “You’re not wearing any make-up today. You look… Dead.”

She blanked due to the honesty she was facing. Then Victoria answered carefully. “Yeah, I didn’t feel like a living being today.”

He continued to scrutinize her, until he rectified his posture. “I know you looked cute, with your make-up and all, but despite being bare faced today, you are still cute.”

Victoria blinked a few times before saying. “I thought I was dead ?”

Crewel smiled. “A cute dead.”

Tagged : @boba-tea-fish @hipsterteller

[vanillabat99]

Longpost Life Update!!

Queue is empty, haven't had much on the dash that I felt like putting in there lately!! It's probably time for a dash cleanup, unfollowing inactive blogs and such. That's something I will do on desktop soon!!

I've been spending my days sleeping and watching shows with my Beautiful Wife, sometimes playing games. Whenever I try to put my sleep schedule back to normal there's something I have to be up early for and it throws it all off again. Very frustrating. Things have been fairly uneventful otherwise! I'm still experiencing the heart thing, but as I have exhausted my healthcare possibilities and the conclusion was that it is psychological, I am simply dealing with it ._.

I have a meeting coming up to go over AISH paperwork before I submit anything, which is very exciting!! I will likely have to apply again since my social worker, doctor, and therapist have told me they almost always deny the first one. Medications and therapy are very expensive, and I'm still trying to find funding assistance for a proper wheelchair.

Monday I have an intake for community support groups/activities (I have to be up at 8AM which is hellish for me) and I hope to get into their art program!! I really want to spend more time making art, and I would love to meet some people and get out of the house more often.

I have lots of art projects in the works, and many of them require skills and materials I do not currently have, so I have plenty of work to do!! My current priority is finishing up a card for my Beautiful Wife and finally sending it to them!! My other projects are quite large and will require consulting with various people in my life on how to best approach and execute my visions :3

Choir starts up again in the fall and I am so excited to go back!! Weekly rehearsals gave me so much structure, and it's at night which works great for my sleep schedule!! We got a preview of our setlists at our director's dinner party last month. Most of them are good but there's a couple that are so bad they're funny and I really hope we can convince her to maybe put those ones back on the shelf >_<

I'm preparing to go on a trip in either December or May (depends on finances) to see my Beautiful Wife!! It will be my first time traveling on my own, so I have lots to sort out. My first hurdle is making a plan for the airport!! I have lots of people helping me, and I am so so so determined to make this happen!!!

Haven't been blogging much due to all of the above, but I am still here :3 A family friend is going through some mental health stuff right now, so my attention is primarily focused on that. Thanks for reading this wall of text, and for sticking around so long!! Hope you're all doing well 💕💕💕

[cherryrainn]

━━ ✧ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 {𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

.8 - 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚.

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; s3lf harm, depression, bulimia, mental health issues, self hatred, stuff like that, and just like my other stories... lots of angst!

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

─ ✩ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ; here

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

the moon hung low in the dark, starless sky as striker and you rode on bombproof, leaving the chaotic scene of the cavern behind. the air was thick with tension, but the adrenaline of the battle had begun to ebb away, leaving you exhausted and shaken. striker's injuries were evident, his bandana tattered and his clothes stained with blood and dirt. you held onto him tightly, your fingers trembling.

as you rode through the desolate landscape of hell, striker finally broke the silence. his voice was rough, strained from the recent events. "we needa find a place to lay low for a while," he said, his gaze scanning the eerie, otherworldly terrain.

you nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. the motel seemed like a distant memory, and the thought of finding shelter in this hostile realm was both daunting and necessary.

after what felt like an eternity of riding, you came across a decrepit motel that seemed to materialize out of the darkness. the neon sign flickered with a faint, eerie glow, and the building itself looked like it had seen better days.

striker reined in bombproof, the gravel crunching beneath the horse's hooves. he dismounted with a graceful ease, his boots thudding against the ground. you followed suit, legs wobbling from exhaustion.

"we'll take a room," striker announced to the bored-looking imp behind the front desk, who lazily glanced up from a magazine. "don't care which one, as long as it's got a bed."

the imp nodded and handed striker a key with a numbered tag that seemed to have seen better days. "room 6," the imp muttered, returning to his magazine without much interest.

striker led you down a dimly lit hallway, the faded wallpaper peeling off in places. the air was stale, and the sound of distant murmurs and muffled laughter filled the corridors. you couldn't help but shudder, feeling the oppressive weight of hell pressing down on you.

room 6 was a small, dimly lit space with worn-out furnishings. the bed, covered in faded, scratchy sheets, dominated the room. a flickering television in the corner offered a distorted view of a hellish game show, and the curtains were drawn tightly, blocking out the eerie glow of hell's landscape.

striker closed the door behind you with a heavy sigh, the tension of the night finally catching up to him. he sauntered towards a chair by the window, his form casting a long, distorted shadow in the dim light. his ivory white hair seemed to shimmer in the faint glow.

you stood in the center of the room, feeling the weight of the night's events pressing down on you. the adrenaline had faded completely, you didn't know what to do.

with a casual grace that contrasted his earlier exhaustion, striker began to shed his attire. he took off his hat, revealing messed up ivory hair. he took off his jacket revealing his black turtleneck shirt that clung to his form, accentuating his physique.

as striker hung his jacket and hat on a hook by the door, you found yourself standing awkwardly. the silence weighed on you, and you weren't quite sure what to do next.

after a moment, striker finally spoke, his voice laced with weariness but retaining its characteristic charm. "you holdin' up alright, darlin'?" he asked, his gaze fixed on you.

the question caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but offer a wry smile. "alright? is anyone alright in this place, striker?"

he chuckled softly, the sound as warm and comforting as a campfire on a chilly night. "fair point. this place ain't exactly a walk in the park."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "were you really about to take out stolas back there?" you inquired, needing some clarity in the midst of the chaos.

striker leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant as he recalled the events. "damn right, i was. that blueblood sumbitch thinks he's untouchable. his wife hired me to assassinate him, and i was ready to collect. but then she called it off, and now I'm stuck dealin' with her whinin' and complainin'."

he paused for a moment, his yellow eyes ablaze with intensity. "you know what i hate most about this fuckin' place? it's them royals, actin' all high and mighty, treatin' us like we're nothin'."

you nodded, finally grasping the depth of striker's disdain for the demon nobility. "sounds like a real pain in the ass."

striker's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with venom. "pain in the ass? you don't know the half of it. those royals are the reason this place is such a goddamn mess. they stomp around, throwin' their weight, and expect us to bow down. well, fuck 'em. they ain't better than us."

you raised your hands in surrender, trying to calm striker down. "alright, alright, i got it. no love for the royals. but, you know, i'm not exactly losing sleep over them."

striker's expression softened, and he leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. "damn straight. you got the right idea. you gotta watch your back and take care of your own. ain't no room for pity or remorse."

the room seemed to close in around you, its walls tainted with the residual despair of countless guests who had passed through. as you settled onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice that it was the only one in the room. the realization struck you like a sledgehammer to the chest.

striker, leaning against the peeling wallpaper, glanced around the room, his yellow eyes narrowing in annoyance. "well, ain't this a shitty setup," he muttered under his breath.

you sighed, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and awkwardness. "yeah, it's... not ideal."

striker crossed his arms. "i guess we'll have to make do. ain't no point complainin' about it now."

you nodded in agreement, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. 

as you settled under the scratchy sheets, you couldn't help but steal a glance at striker, who was perched on the edge of the only chair in the room. he looked lost in thought, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on the armrest.

"striker," you began tentatively, "i know we're not exactly buddies, but i appreciate you looking out for me. i don't think i would've made it this far without your help."

striker's yellow eyes met yours, and for a moment, the mask of cynicism slipped away, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath. "no need for sentimentality. we're just survivin' out here."

you nodded, understanding his need to maintain his tough exterior. "surviving together, then," you replied, offering a small smile.

striker just sighed, he didn't look at you.

the room fell into a heavy silence, interrupted only by the distant sounds of the chaotic nightlife outside. you tried to relax, but the creaky bed and the unsettling surroundings made it difficult.

striker let out a frustrated sigh, realizing that standing there wasn't going to accomplish anything. with a reluctant grumble, he climbed into the bed, keeping a respectable distance from you.

striker, seemingly more at ease than you, lay on his side of the bed. he let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, attempting to drift into slumber.

but as the minutes passed, you couldn't help but shift in your spot, trying to find a more comfortable position. you moved slightly to the left and then to the right, your body searching for relief.

striker's eyes snapped open, and he shot you a venomous glare. "what the hell are you doin' over there? i'm tryna sleep."

you froze, your heart pounding in your chest. "sorry, i'm just trying to get comfortable," you whispered, not wanting to provoke him further.

striker grumbled something unintelligible and turned away from you, hoping to recapture his fleeting peace.

for a few minutes, you lay perfectly still, almost on the brink of sleep. just when you thought you could finally drift off into slumber, striker's voice cut through the silence like a screeching train.

"stop movin'! you're doin' it again!" striker's frustration was palpable.

"but i'm not moving!" you protested in a hushed tone, bewildered by his insistence.

striker sat up abruptly, his hair disheveled and his patience worn thin. "hell yes, you are! i can feel it."

you rolled your eyes in the dimly lit room. "i swear, i'm not moving, striker. maybe it's just your imagination."

striker's face contorted in annoyance, and he grumbled something under his breath. as you lay there in the silence, you couldn't help but smirk.

with a mischievous glint in your eye, you started to move ever so slightly. a subtle shift of your leg here, a slight twitch of your arm there, just enough to irritate striker without him realizing you were doing it on purpose.

striker, now lying back down with his eyes closed, was not one to be fooled easily. he sensed your movements almost immediately. "you're doin' it again." he growled.

you couldn't help but chuckle softly under your breath. "i have no idea what you're talking about," you replied innocently.

striker's temper flared. "you're testin' my patience'."

you decided to push his buttons a bit more. you started moving more noticeably, almost fidgeting in the bed, making it impossible for striker to ignore.

"would you cut it out?" striker snapped, sitting up once more, his hair now sticking up in wild tufts.

you grinned mischievously, enjoying his reaction. "cut what out?"

that did it. 

striker's patience snapped like a dry twig. he leaped out of the bed, his eyes blazing with annoyance. "that's it!" he exclaimed. "i'm not sleepin' here!"

with that, he stomped over to the small chair, kicking it aside with a loud crash. striker sprawled out on the floor, muttering curses under his breath.

you couldn't help but laugh. "aw, come on, striker. it's just a bit of fun."

he shot you a withering glare from the floor. "fun? you're drivin' me crazy."

as you chuckled to yourself, you noticed striker lying on the floor, his back to you. your amusement faded, and you realized you might have gone a bit too far in trying to get under his skin. while his gruff demeanor and constant complaints had been irritating, you didn't want to push it too much.

"striker," you called softly, trying to convey your sincerity.

striker didn't respond immediately, but he didn't tell you to shut up either. he simply grunted in acknowledgment.

"i'm sorry if i annoyed you too much," you apologized, genuinely regretting your earlier mischief. "i was just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

no response.

"come on, striker!" you finally pleaded, unable to bear the tension any longer. "i said i'm sorry."

striker still didn't respond, but after a few moments, you heard him shuffle on the floor. to your surprise, he got up and made his way to the bed. you shifted to give him some space.

without a word, striker settled onto the bed, surprisingly close to you. his body was warm against yours, and you could feel his steady breaths against your neck. it was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least.

you couldn't help but blush at the sudden intimacy, your heart racing in your chest. "what are you doing?"

he grumbled something incoherent, but you couldn't quite make out his words. then, to your astonishment, his tail began to rattle, creating a rhythmic, soothing sound. it was strangely hypnotic.

your breath caught in your throat as striker held you snugly against his chest.

striker's voice was surprisingly gentle when he finally spoke. "just shut up and go to sleep."

you nodded, despite the fact that he couldn't see it, and nestled into his embrace.

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

Hi, I've been meaning to do this for several months, executive dysfunction got the better of me, and it's 1 in the morning (or, it was, but then I fell asleep while writing this, but 95% of it was written at 1 in the morning), but, hi, hello, your friendly neighborhood [insert adequate descriptor here, I'm too tired to come up with anything right now]!

I have not posted anything original on this blog for. uh. months. my best guess running at actual long form not fulfilling a tag game thing is november. of 2022 (I can't check I'm on mobile). which is much time ago! (the last tag game fulfilling writing posting was in like may) hi, I'm not dead and I haven't stopped writing forever, I just had one fucking hell of a year for mental health and school and moving up schools

but! it's summer now, I'm some twenty ish days into break, and I suddenly have spoons again. wow. I forgot what that feels like. I've done So Many Things recently it's insane, anyway--

I have been writing things! I'm doing an impromptu (as in started it on July 13th) camp nano challenge of typing up 3000 words of the massive amount of Enna's prequel I handwrote in a notebook at varying distressingly late hours of the night. I am actually decently close to done with that, I got a shitload done the other day, that's to say:

this lovely little blog of mine has been unintentionally mostly dormant for a while now, but it has been woken up and there will be things here again! tomorrow, even! (or today. timezones.)

lots of things have changed, in the stories, I have finally figured out a MASSIVE AND HELLISH plot hole in Enna's prequel story, and it's all figured out now, and I'm so fucking happy it's awesome can my brain feel like this all the time please the serotonin is excellent, but fixing that plot hole means that I need to redo so much lore and and backstories now it's ridiculous

to everyone who's sent me asks and tagged me in games and etc in the last few months/year. I'm sorry. I'll do most (hopefully almost all) of them. (Sleepy especially, I'm sorry, I'm not really sure if that means anything to you I probably sound like a broken record but I do mean it genuinely, I'm sorry, I will answer all of the ones you've sent me)