#i need to find something to rot my brain but in an entertaining way

[umemiyan]

𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨

𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ･ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (potential for nsfw continuations) / jjk manga spoilers / this is my version of "came back wrong" gojo inspired by recent events, but it turned out somewhat softer than i expected / what happens when satoru is brought back and suddenly finds himself deeply attached to you of all people?

yandere!gojo / he's also slightly higher-needs disabled coded… idk i tried to approach it as best as i could. it's an unfamiliar thing for reader and they're trying to process it / i very well may try to continue this because it is rotting my brain!! / 1.7k words

“Satoru… you need to eat.”

A full bowl of soup sits on the table before him untouched, his hands resting unoccupied in his lap and eyes trained on your figure as you circle around to stand near him. That piercing blue gaze is ridden with innocence, lips parted like those of a quizzical child, but they turn upwards into a pleased grin when you take a seat in the chair next to him.

You’d prepared a rather simple dish, something you figured might be easy for him to consume and digest given his… peculiar state, but Satoru apparently had yet to pay any interest to it. He instead sat obediently in his chair just as you had commanded several minutes ago, unable to initiate the task of feeding himself, for he was much more intrigued from afar by your every move as you tidied the kitchen. It was as though he couldn’t find the drive to function unless you were within an overwhelmingly short distance of him.

Satoru’s heart thumps now that you’re close, a burst of satisfaction rushing through his brain. Dopey yet stimulating chemicals. You are Pavlov’s ringing bell. 

He is reminiscent of a child picked up from school by their beloved parent, or a puppy being reunited with its owner after a day at the vet, overcome with joy and unable to properly contain it. He leans forward and presses his lips to your neck as though that is the appropriate response to his elation, the crossed wires in his brain telling him that this is the sort of affection that will please you and is therefore the sort of affection he most desperately wants to give.

His condition was difficult to understand, and you wouldn’t call yourself properly equipped to deal with it, but there was simply no other option but to try; Gojo wouldn’t let anyone else try, the horrible rattling in his skull consuming him when deprived of your presence for too long. Yuuta had described the look in his eyes as “frenzied and lost.” You were told that the infirmary still needed repairs.

Once he returned to this world, Satoru had been stripped down to his essence, bare bones, a creature of instinct, reduced to something quite simple yet difficult for the average person to understand. But you had to understand, or try at the very least. This was the new burden placed upon your shoulders; it was either soothe this new version of Satoru Gojo for the sake of the world, or find a way to send him back into the icy arms of death. You were often caught between which option sounded worse.

However, when met with the sweetest and most earnest of his smiles, your bones were frosted with guilt, and you regretted ever entertaining the idea of letting him go again.

You stumble over getting him to perform necessary tasks and be further than 5 feet away from you at any given time, because it seems that, upon his revival, Satoru equates you and only you with everything of importance in his life. It’s more than a little unnerving given the fact that you’d never so much as even kissed prior to the loss of him, and now his neurons only fire off every happy memory he’s ever had of you, every positive thing he’s ever felt, no matter how stifled. You are his entire world now, and he can’t even verbalize it, but as each day passes following his awakening, you’re starting to gather that much on your own. You can’t be frustrated for long, however, because his cheerfulness is contagious, his enthusiasm making you feel loved even if it is somewhat smothering.

Is this selfish of you? 

The man's lips travel slowly across your skin, pacified by your presence, your taste, and ignoring the grumble in his stomach. How does one differentiate the types of hunger? You don’t attempt to fight him off, but rather exhale a defeated sigh in response. It hasn’t been long since you’ve been tasked with this responsibility, but it feels as though you’re frequently fighting a losing battle and failing him all the same. It’s so peculiar, so very unnatural… but still, you have to try.

“Satoru, please…” you beg, voice light in his ear and a hand settling at his nape. His nerve endings come alive every time his name leaves your lips. The bell. “Just one bite? For me?”

That seems to do the trick, as you’ve gathered. Satoru pulls himself back, hyper-aware of the tone in your voice and suddenly willing to comply. He’s more than eager to accept the spoon into his mouth when you offer it, placing your fingers beneath his chin and carefully bringing the soup up to his lips. He swallows it with ease, the task literally more palatable now that you’ve reminded him of how badly you would like him to complete it. Anything for you.

“There,” you say, satisfied and offering a faint, exhausted smile. He grins widely in response and hums, no longer capable of words of his own, but his simple noise expresses his glee with efficacy. Satoru decides to punctuate it by pressing the tip of his nose to yours for good measure.

It feels wrong to enjoy these subtle moments of intimacy with someone who doesn’t appear to be in his right mind, but who are you to say whether he is or not? There’s still an agency he possesses, a heart full of emotions, and a mind teeming with thoughts that you wish you could be privy to. He might be different now, but part of you wants to say with certainty that the old Satoru is still here with you somehow—you can sense it. He chuckles at particular images that flash across the TV and still gets a kick out of teasing you to some degree. To diminish that seems like a disservice to him.

You’re unable to deprive him of the happiness your closeness provides nonetheless; in fact, it’s obviously rather dangerous for you to even try and do so. Satoru’s conscious recollections are filled primarily with you, but his body is still more or less the same as it always was—the vessel of his clan’s power, the strongest sorcerer on earth. You’re not sure to what extent he remembers how to control these abilities, but part of you doesn’t wish to find out. For now, you care for him, placate him, re-learn him. Nothing is certain about the situation other than the fact that he apparently needs you now more than ever.

Your eyes soften at the warmth he exudes, and you wonder if he really remembers who you even are—or were—to him. It’s not worth pondering over for now, however. He needs to eat.

“Another?” you ask, testing to see how willing he is to fulfill your wishes. Satoru often easily complies once you’ve expressed satisfaction in him doing so, but all of this is still so new and experimental; you never know when he might decide to switch gears.

However, still smiling, he nods, and you bring another spoonful of soup up to his lips for him to swallow. It pleases you to see him finally getting something into his stomach, and he can sense it, taking it upon himself to further your agenda and simultaneously realizing just how gratifying it is to fill his belly.

“Good,” you say, and he feels rewarded. He is crowned by your praise. Exalted. You take him to the greatest heights with the simplest of words.

You place the spoon back in the bowl and Satoru takes it in his grasp, feeding himself without quarrel while you observe. Most of his motor skills appear to be intact as far as you’ve seen despite the cognitive and behavioral changes, and if someone were to look upon him from afar, you’re fairly certain they would never know the difference. But you’re still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together little by little, deciphering each bit of information and also determining just how deep his severe attachment to you really goes.

Why did it end up being you? Why do you suddenly seem to be the only thing that makes sense to him in this entire universe?

You can’t answer that, he can’t answer that, it’s just the way it is. Satoru doesn’t need to know why you nearly consume his every thought, he just knows that you make him happy, and that’s truly all that counts in his version of the world. He’ll chase it on instinct until death decides to take him again; he’ll tear down anything that stands in his or your way, for you alone are all that he thinks he has left to cling to. Never matter the others that show concern for him—they’re nice enough, earning a small smile or even the privilege to touch before he shakes them off and seeks you out again. It’s nothing personal. It’s simply pathological.

Leaning an elbow on the table, you turn the possibilities over in your mind as you silently watch him eat. A life has been restored, but yours has been turned upside down, and you have to figure out just exactly what you’re going to do about it. You suppose that taking baby steps ought to be the best way to make progress, but how do you make space for someone like this out of the blue? You’ll have to give it your best shot.

Satoru finishes drinking down the remaining broth of his soup, and you pose a question. “Would you like to go for a walk with me today?”

He sits the bowl down and looks over at you, eyes assessing your features and mind processing what you’ve asked. He hasn’t been out much in the days following his return, but you don’t see any reason to keep him cooped up inside if he happens to respond well to a casual outing with you. Taking him for a stroll outside seems like a decent way to test the waters.

Satoru smiles and nods, recalling memories of how your hair looked when touched by the wind. He’d be glad to accompany you outside if it meant he could see you glow in the sun, radiant and warm. The center of his universe.

“I think it’ll be nice,” you remark with a grin, an ounce or two of weight being lifted from your shoulders at the positive shift in outlook. Baby steps.

Reaching out to take your hand, Satoru squeezes it in his own to convey his agreement. It’s as if he’s trying to say, “everything is nice when I’m with you.”

[lorelune]

six drinks, first time

|| jing yuan x f! reader || E/18+ || drunk reader + adoring jin yuan + kink reveal || wc: 2.5k  || ao3 ||

Jing Yuan covets the fact he knows you better than anyone else. It’s unfortunate for him that plum wine makes you sweeter and more honest, revealing a piece of yourself he hasn’t considered. 

minors & ageless blogs dni

a/n: jing yuan has rotted my brain i need him so badly fr fr :salute: enjoy!!

CWs: drunk reader, engaged jing yuan and reader, possessive jing yuan, corruption kink, virginity kink, reader visibly blushes, light exhibitionism/threat of exhibitionism

It's rare for Jing Yuan to see you this way. So carefree, so weightless, so unabashed, despite the many bodies around you and looks that your display is inevitably drawing. Jing Yuan is too old to care for decorum in this setting, it's a party after all. Though he'll only nurse a drink or two during the evening, lest lose himself, he appreciates seeing his compatriots enjoy themselves.

He wasn't expecting you to partake as much as you have, though.

Jing Yuan has been counting your drinks— five, sipping on a sixth (some plum wine that he’s sure has a taste that will linger on your lips. He wants nothing more than to find out himself). You'll undoubtedly have a headache in the morning. He's less concerned about that (he'll treat you well, he always does, the lovesick fool he is). You rarely drink so much, usually just stealing sips from his glass and remaining sober by his side, so it's quite the treat for him to see you lose yourself in this way.

You cling to his arm, cheek pressed into his shoulder as you listen to Fu Xuan drone about a trivial bit of gossip. Jing Yuan entertains her, and you watch them both, entranced. Lips parted and a bit chapped, cheeks flushed, with a thigh thrown over his own. You're rarely so affectionate with him in public, or anywhere other than your home. You insist upon decorum, but after your third drink, it's been thrown out the window. You're practically in his lap.

At the thought, Jing Yuan tests his luck. It takes no effort for him to wrangle you over his thighs, and you throw an arm around his neck, pressing the other over his chest. You bear your weight into him. It's horribly precious of you.

Though your relationship isn't a secret, it's something you don't answer common questions about. Even if Tingyun tries to twist your arm for information on the general, you always skillfully decline (or, tell her off with equally flowery words. It's impressive to watch considering he's well aware of the other contexts you use such vocabulary and tone in— in war rooms at the side of long tables, or while sitting over his hips, smearing spit across his lips.)

You gasp at something Fu Xuan says. Jing Yuan squeezes around your hip. When your flesh gives way under his grip, Jing Yuan sees stars. It's so rare he gets to indulge in this way. He'll milk it for all its worth.

You're unaware of it— the gazes that you draw, from colleagues, foes, strangers. Jing Yuan is terribly attuned to it. You'd probably be alarmed if you knew the extent to which Jing Yuan is acutely aware of each wayward glance or longing look you receive. You have admirers. Your lack of public acknowledgment of your relationship (besides the engagement rings you both wear. Identical, cast in the same metal, sharing halves of the same stone) allows room for it.

Jing Yuan never lets them get far. For how little you both say of it, he isn't shy about standing closer to you than anyone else. Inviting you to the seat of divine foresight, whenever he bothers to actually be there. He asks for you on daily walks and you're the only other person his finches will eat from the hand of.

If an admirer of yours doesn't get the message after such clear signals, Jing Yuan takes a more direct approach. A hand on the small of your back, leveling you a gaze that screams 'I will be splitting you open on my cock the first moment you allow me' in an open market for all to see, or making eye contact with said suitor and provide them a particular hardened, venomous look that Jing Yuan's only been able to forge through time and his feelings for you.

He'd never considered himself a possessive man before you.

Look at what you've done to him, made him selfish and desperate at your hand.

Jing Yuan has little to lose. You've finished your sixth drink. He kisses your jaw— just a drag of the lips over the curve of it. He feels you give a full-bodied shudder, balling up his robe in your fist.

He’d never considered himself needy either, but with you, he is. He hides it well. He doesn't even think you know, though you could see it if you looked hard enough.

"Dearest," he speaks against your ear, only for you to hear. "May I take you home?"

You turn to pout at him. He's patient, horribly, perhaps to a detriment at times— but you're testing him.

"Noooo, not yet!" You whine. "The party's so nice and Fu Xuan's fun when she's tipsy."

You hide a giggle behind your palm, and you don't see the way Fu Xuan bristles behind you.

"Can I convince you?" Jing Yuan asks you. He squeezes your inner thigh. He'd put his hand to your skin directly if he could, if he didn't value your modesty—

(Though, perhaps he's been entertaining the thought of having you in a courtyard for the past half hour. Who is to say.)

You hum, thoughtful, "You will have to be very persuasive. I'm enjoying myself thoroughly."

"Noted. You know I can be."

"Hmmm... I'm listening."

Jing Yuan hums, "Such things would be better discussed in private. Take a walk with me?"

You frown, "I don't want to get up."

"I'll carry you."

"You wouldn't—" you flush at that. Jing Yuan cups your face so he can feel your cheeks heat.

"I would. Happily, in fact."

You shouldn't be surprised when he rises with you in his arms, only depositing you back to the ground when you squeal and squirm. You still grab his hand as you depart from the crowded party room. Jing Yuan feels each gaze that follows them. He rubs over the ring on your left hand.

Jing Yuan takes you to an overlook. The city is deserted so late. There's no need for his knights to be stationed so close to the celebration, considering the amount of soldiers teeming just inside.

He crowds you against the railing, slowly, leveraging you with a hand on your side. He'd never let you fall, especially when you sway with the drinks you've had.

"You've been so sweet this evening." Jing Yuan noses down the line of your throat.

"Am I not sweet every evening?"

"You are, of course." Jing Yuan could spend days, months— years even, telling you in all the ways. He's long since become accustomed to the unique heartache you give him— like a wound that never heals or a bruise that will never yellow. The only way to soothe it is with your words, your touch, your presence in his bed and by his side— and wrapped around his arm when you so cutely drink yourself into a stupor. "It's rare that I get to see you partaking in the way you have. It's lovely to see you enjoy yourself. I simply wish to enjoy you myself. If you don't wish to return all the way home, I happened to see a few spare rooms—"

"Jing Yuan!" You tug at his hair. He suppresses a moan. "That would be— indecent. And unbecoming of someone of your rank."

"My rank is unmoving and unchanging, regardless of any sweet sounds I could draw from you. But, I suppose, you are quite the shy thing, aren't you—?"

"You're awful." You say with no bite. You kiss him stupid and Jing Yuan feels stupid. He never feels undone or outwitted, but you silence him so easily. A few touches and he's nothing. "Scoundrel."

"And, you love me for it."

"Well, yes, of course." You assure him and nip at his bottom lip. "Enough to want to marry you, in fact."

"So, you'll allow me to walk you home and keep you from work tomorrow?"

"Why would you keep me from work?"

"I don't expect you to be walking with any ease when I’m finished with you." Jing Yuan, perhaps, desires to mark your neck as well. It's a rare thing, and when he does, he revels in the way you futz with your collar all day to try and hide them. He thinks he'll give you one that you can't hide, right over your pulse point.

"How do I know you're not just trying to get out of those meetings that are on the books for tomorrow morning?" You bat at his chest, a smile burgeoning on your lips. He's got you.

"I only wish to spend the rest of the evening pleasuring you." He lilts his voice and squeezes lower on your hips. "Does my lover not trust me?"

You bury your face in his chest and shudder. He chuckles, running a palm over your hair, cupping the back of your neck. So easily undone, choice words and you unravel.

"You make me think all these weird things."

"Weird how?" He asks, already cajoling you into linking arms, matching your stride.

"I— I've been having this thought and I can't get it out of my head." You avoid looking at him and Jing Yuan’s interest is piqued. 

"Will you share with me?"

"It's... embarrassing. And lewd."

"Dear," he presses your ring into your finger. "I have promised myself to you in all ways. If it's a desire you have, I want nothing more than to hear and indulge it."

"You're spoiling me."

"You're avoiding telling me what has plagued you so." Jing Yuan reminds you.

You pause and chew on your words.

Jing Yuan is... curious. Your desires are not a mystery to him. You've been forthright with your wants, and he has in turn, and very little has been vetoed. If anything, you've given him much to think about. You occupy his thoughts in a way that is probably distracting, but so close to retirement— he can let himself daydream about a future where keeping you in bed and flush to him is his only job.

"It's just that—" You shift from foot to foot. You're not far from home now, and you drag your feet. "That, you know? We'll have forever, and it makes me think about all the stuff from before that."

He hums. You've revealed fragments to him, unpleasant bits of the past you've moved beyond. 

"And like... What if— Just. Maybe. I think about it sometimes." You kick the metal and stone at your feet. "I think about you being my first. I'm gonna be with you forever, you know? I wish you could just unmake me, and take me for the first time."

Jing Yuan stalls. Almost stumbles. He catches himself by the barest fringes of his finesse because Aeons and stars, what the fuck did you just say—?

(He considers himself an expert in you. He knows your mood, the way your skin changes with the artificial weather and your favorite fruits, and how you best like them cut. He knows the ways to curl his fingers inside you to bring you climax within just moments or hours, if he so deigns.)

(Yet, he never knew this desire. Never considered it. Foresight means nothing when you obscure his vision in the same way a comet's tail bursts as it hits solid atmosphere— blinding and forged with wishes.)

"Jing Yuan? Are you okay?" You ask him, voice gone soft and timid. "Was that... bad?"

"No." Jing Yuan steels himself. He has much to consider. He must act. He scoops you into his arms and throws you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You let out a little ‘oof’ and pound on his back. "What's this for? If you're upset with me, just say it."

"You didn't upset me at all." He runs a hand over the back of your thighs, his palm coming to rest over your ass. "The opposite, actually overjoyed. You've been so gracious, I couldn't possibly let you tire yourself out with a walk home, could I?"

He squeezes a cheek and feels his cock twitch at the squeak you let out.

He's going to ruin you, he decides. Perhaps not now, but another night. If you wish him to rewrite a poor memory, your first, he will. He wants you dead sober for it.

"... Why do I feel like you're thinking really hard?" you slap his ass and he snorts. "You're scheming. I can tell."

"Only planning, dear. I promise it's in your best interest."

It's all he thinks about as he sets you on the threshold of your shared home. He feeds you rice with egg and tuskpir belly and it’s all he fucking thinks about. He fucks you stupid and drooly and full into the sheets, and it consumes him.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he fucks into you from behind. His cock hasn't even been this hard, he thinks, it almost hurts. You make the sweetest sounds below him, sticky tears clumping your lashes as you squeeze his hand back. Every thrust pushes you into the mattress. He's blowing out your back, surely. He knows the ache you'll have in the morning and he'll chase it away.

He presses his chest to your back, licking up your neck and stilling the cant of his hips. You breathe in time.

"I'll take you like it's your first time— I'd love nothing more." He licks over a high patch of skin on your neck. "We can even play pretend, if you'd like. Would you like to be a blushing virgin who's never taken cock before?"

You laugh, tilting your head back to bonk into his, "Sounds like you'd just like to corrupt my hypothetical innocence."

"And if I did?" Jing Yuan speaks so seriously that it stills you. He thinks of every set of eyes that looked at you that evening, every ogling glance that traced a figure that is only his. He bites down into the flesh of your neck, sucking a bruise so dark it'll last for days. "If I want to undo you and be the only one who's ever fucked you, seen you like this, would I be wrong to? I think that you may even enjoy that."

You let out a shaking breath. Your cunt squeezes like a vice around his cock and he groans into the mark he's branded on you.

"You're going to ruin me." You smother your voice into the sheets as he picks up his pace. The slap of skin is wet, you're drenched, it's filthy and Jing Yuan never wants it to end. Perhaps he should rethink his views on immortality.

"I am." He will. It's a promise, a vow that's sealed with the faltering rhythm of his hips and the way he spills inside of you. He eats himself out of your cunt, until you're cumming on his tongue and thrashing against the hold he keeps on your hips.

Jing Yuan feels so pleased when he finally lays down at your side after wiping you down. You doze, rolling into his warmth the moment he's under the covers.

He will ruin you. He will reshape you for him, if that's your desire.

He keeps a hand between your sticky thighs and pushes his spent that dribbles from your cunt back inside you.

[kyuuin9in]

Some Douma Relationship Headcanons

A/N: I needed to get this out of my system cause I’m positively bonkers for this man lsfjfkls- not proof read! Teeth-rotting fluffy SFW content cause I’m a hopeless simp.

Douma needs a darling who will understand his emotional disability and ‘play along’ with his efforts of mimicking emotions. He knows he cannot feel anything, but he’s trying his best! That should count for something, right?

Whoever his darling is, they know he’s a demon. Whilst he could try and cover it up for as long as possible, at some point he’d need to reveal the truth – he doesn’t want another Kotoha incident, after all. He is very observant and will try to probe his darling in various ways to ease them into it before telling them the truth.

Aggravating his demon colleagues is his way of acting playful and he’s not above annoying his own darling. He whines whenever he’s feeling bored and will crawl his way to his s/o to seek some entertainment. It’s up to them if they want to humor him or remind him of his daily schedule as a cult leader. Did I mention he has the cutest pout when told he has responsibilities to take care of?

Extremely clingy. Attached to his s/o’s hip at all times - good luck being even three meters apart from each other. Douma is incredibly touch-starved and will take any opportunity to hold or lean his head against his darling. Whether it’s him resting his head on their lap, against their chest, shoulder or back - he likes being comfy in his partner’s arms. Prefers being the little spoon, although he’s not opposed to being the big spoon, either! Huge on PDA, doesn’t care if he’s making people around him uncomfortable or annoyed. His partner is his priority.

Speaking of priorities: you know how cats bring dead animals like lizards and birds to their owners as presents? Douma is that cat. If he finds something he thinks his darling might like, he will definitely bring it back home with it. Look! He brought you something nice! Isn’t he such a thoughtful sweetheart? Can he get cuddles as a reward now?

Douma is not above asking for blood from his human partner. He finds the gesture of being offered his darling’s blood to be incredibly romantic, so bonus points if they bring it up on their own accord. His favorite spots to draw blood from are his s/o’s palm, neck, earlobe and inner thigh when he’s feeling frisky.

Will definitely turn his s/o into a demon. It’s non-negotiable; once he meets that special person who’s willing to spend the rest of their life with someone as broken as him, he won’t let go. They’re stuck with him for eternity. He’s going to acclimate them to their new lifestyle and no- they won’t need to look for food for themselves! No, no, that’s his job. His darling can just stay comfy, he will be the one bringing the ‘bread’ home (cat brain Douma doing his thing again).

The Upper Moons will find him even more insufferable cause he just won’t shut up about them! Even Kokushibo is contemplating whether he should bother reprimanding Akaza for punching his brains out at this point. What a headache.

Overall, Douma would be a happy camper. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

[onyourowndaisymae]

Yoo I have two request which I’ll send the other one separately but I am in an ANGSTY mood rn sooo yah also been binging ur headcanons and stuffs and I just love the way you write ?? It’s so entertaining lol

AnywY the actual request: can you write like a one shot or headcanons if you prefer of mc who is struggling after the belphie incident ?? Like they feel like they’ve mostly forgiven him and can act normally around him and they’re friends and take naps together but sometimes the flash back just HITS THEM and they have nightmares and panic attacks that can be so bad sometimes someone needs to get Simeon to calm them down. Maybe something of how the brothers react/treat mc and belphie? Idk I’m just thirsting for like MEGA ANGST rn bc my dad made me cry little bit lmao 😭

it comes at night

hello anon! i'm terribly sorry you're in such an angsty mood, though i thank you for all the love-- and for sending this request right as these ideas were on the front of my mind. it genuinely makes me so happy to see people enjoying my work, and it makes all the writer's block and such worth it. i cannot express enough how much i love seeing all the comments, reblogs, etc. as people engage with my work.

anyways. i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, especially with how LONG it ended up being, but maybe that's just my mushy brain talking after looking at it too long. regardless-- i hope you enjoy (well, y'know, in like a sad and angsty way).

synopsis: you thought you would be able to move on like all the others. your body was healed, your anxiety tucked neatly behind a mental wall built to keep you safe. yet something in you was stuck. you couldn't just move on. you were trapped in a battle between your friendship with belphegor and the fear gnawing at your brain as you remembered what exactly he did to you. when the dam finally breaks, your whole brain floods with terror, until you're swept away with it. nobody can save you now.

genre: angst, no happy end, just a big ol spoonful of sadness

word count: ~3.1k

content warnings: chapter 16 spoilers, graphic(?) discussions of death, depictions of panic attacks, nightmares, mc progressively getting worse from fear + lack of sleep

it's funny how time works. 

you'd been around your fair share of years. you’d grown, you’d changed, you’d spent your entire life looking toward the future you had planned. then you, a mere human, were yanked into an unfamiliar world. you spent an entire year in the devildom– a year that simultaneously dragged on and flew by– and came out the other side a new person. a single year in the devildom has changed you more than the human realm has your entire life. time was a mischievous thing, always leaving you chasing behind in a fruitless pursuit of something you’ll never quite understand.

but, she also brings blessings with her. they say that time heals all wounds. you've always agreed with that sentiment. scraped knees and adolescent broken hearts are swept away with the passing days, trailing further and further behind you until one day you forget to look back and remember them. the pain scribbled down on diary pages or cried into pillow cases no longer stings like a fresh burn. these things are nothing but scars now. time has a special way of patching you up, of rubbing your back until the tears clear up and you can finally see again. that is how it's always been. 

where is time when you need it? 

she hasn't quite abandoned you, this much is true. cuts and bruises heal over the passing days. your hair and nails still grow. your body still changes, slowly but surely, marching onwards week after week. yet your mind is trapped in stasis. you struggle to break free, but at times the rot consumes you whole, until you’re crying under the covers and begging from respite from the memories. 

on the worst nights, you find yourself in the attic again, watching the door between you and belphegor swing open. you watch yourself march towards death.

you can still feel his hands around your neck, digging his claws into your fragile human skin like you're made of sand. the scent of blood-- your own blood, on the floors, on the walls, leaking from your torso and staining your clothes a permanent maroon-- still clings to the inside of your nose. even your wildest dreams could not erase the sight of his smug grin, the way his eyes lit up looking at your battered body.

no one person should have to carry the weight of realizing they're going to die. that's what you thought about when your body hit the bottom of the stairs, when belphegor tossed you down from the attic with a harsh laugh and punted your limp body into the entrance hall. you thought about how unfair this all was. you were just trying to help. you thought you were doing the right thing.

one of the worst parts of your untimely demise was watching the others react. the voices pool together in your head, like the colors of the rainbow twisting together on the surface of an oil spill. asmo's panicked shriek blends into satan's angry shouts, desperate to understand what's going on. lucifer's yelling almost drowns out the fearful cries coming from levi, held back by a very silent beel. 

but above all of that, you remember mammon. your first man, the first demon who took a chance on the defenseless little human, rushing to your side and gathering you in his arms like you were about to break. his hand on the side of your face, the tears streaming down his face, the shaky, desperate voice assuring you that you'll be okay and begging you to hang on, okay? please don't leave me. you can't remember if he was shaking or if it was your body's last ditch effort to stay conscious-- maybe both. your trembling fingers intertwined with his. words came out of your mouth, and you're not sure what exactly you said, but he only cried harder in response. 

and then, as your eyes shut for the final time, you woke at the bottom of the attic stairs. you had cheated death. 

your price? you had to carry the memories. 

the world kept spinning. days passed in the devildom. you returned to school, kept on top of your homework, spent your days in the house of lamentation alongside the seven demon brothers. you even got to know belphegor as he navigated his return home. he quickly grew fond of you. that, in and of itself, was jarring. but you returned each and every smile with one of your own. his actions were rooted in his own grief for his sister, you knew, and for that you could not fault him. you helped him repair the severed relationships between him and his elder siblings, stitching the family back together like a prized quilt until the seams of betrayal were sufficiently hidden. 

time is a traitorous bitch. why did she choose now to leave your wounds bare and bleeding?

everyone moved on but you. everyone got to wake up in the mornings without a nagging anxiety holding them back. the others could hang out with belphegor day in and day out without a growing feeling of dread popping up when you think you're safe. 

he killed you. he was grieving. your blood drenched the entryway floors as he laughed. he has grown. you watched the light leave mammon's eyes as you slipped away. belphie has been nothing but kind to you since that day. you fucking died. 

you wish your mind could pick a side. did you forgive him, or did you resent him? was he your friend, or your killer? these answers evaded you in the dead of night as you struggled to sleep again. it was becoming more common for you to lose hours of rest to these nagging fears. who are you? are you even you anymore? did the switch in timelines scatter your atoms across countless universes, leaving the you that looks back at you in the mirror nothing more than a hollow shell? 

you thought that you could keep your mind on a tight leash, keep your cards close to your chest as you continued to live with the brothers. you were wrong.

the first meltdown came during a nap with belphie. you had grown to trust him-- you thought you trusted him-- enough to sleep around him. he'd coax you every so often into an afternoon nap. always in the light of day, always your choice. and for many afternoons, you were perfectly content with this arrangement. belphie was warm and cuddly, a perfect companion for a lazy afternoon. he had this way of making you feel safe as you slept-- the nightmares couldn't come when he was snuggled up next to you, when you were sure his actions were ones of affection and not another trick to gain your trust.

one afternoon, while the sun was beginning to set, you stirred under the warmth of the blankets. the body next to yours lingered close, steady breaths lulling you back to dreamland. you could stay like this forever, you thought.

and then you felt it. the gentle graze of a familiar cow tail against your skin.

something inside of you, a dam you didn't even know was there, snapped. a hot flash of panic rose up your throat as your whole body jerked away from the feeling. your eyes shot open and you found yourself in the last place you needed to be right now: the attic. you pulled yourself out of bed before your brain could catch up. colors flashed across your vision as a consequence. you whipped around, disoriented and upset, and spotted a sleeping belphie in the bed where you once were.

a sleeping, demon belphie.

the familiar curve of his horns made your throat spasm as you tried to breathe. the colors flashed in your vision again-- oh god, what a terrible time to be left defenseless-- as your brain tried to drag you back to that day. you could practically see his face shift from relief to malicious, insidious joy as he began to attack you.

"hehe... does it hurt? finding it hard to breathe? i'm sure it must be very unpleasant."

please. please no.

" i have to say, seeing a human face twisted in pain like this... why, it's so much fun that i can barely stand it! i... i can't contain the laughter!"

you weren't quite sure when you hit the ground, but it was loud enough to wake belphegor from his slumber. he peeled his body off the mattress, slow and dazed, as he looked for you.

"mc? what're you... what's going on?"

please don't. this can't be happening.

your lungs collapsed from the weight of your own panic. you gasped-- once, twice, as your vision went in and out. were you bleeding? your hand loosely brushed at the front of your clothes, but couldn't process whether that was blood or your vivid imagination. were you even breathing? your head felt light and heavy at the same time. the wires in your brain were all crossed, sending both resuscitation and shutdown signals to each part of your body. this feeling... this was too familiar.

were you dying?

"mc, what's going on?"

you came face to face with belphegor. your friend, your killer. the demon who had lured you up to this very attic to kill you, now gripping your shoulders as interrogated you inches from your face.

you screamed. you screamed until your brain shut off completely, leaving you in an inky pit of darkness as your consciousness slipped away.

the house was in disarray for several days. apparently, lucifer came in shortly after you passed out, mammon at his heels, to save the day. you woke up later in his bed, the room cold and empty, with a throbbing head and a tear stained pillow. you stumbled out into his office to find him at his desk, lost in some paperwork like always. the solemn look he gave you as your eyes met told you everything you needed to know.

from this day forth, your fear was now your constant companion.

nobody in the house of lamentation knew how to move forward. not you, not the brothers, not the widening gap growing between you all with each passing day spent in emotional limbo. finally, lucifer called everyone to a family meeting where, over the course of an hour or two, everyone came to an agreement to acknowledge what had happened and why, promised to be mindful of this trauma that you're carrying, and move forward like you requested.

silent days slowly but surely filled back up with laughter again. the brothers came back to your side at their own pace-- asmo first, within a matter of hours, then mammon shortly after, then the others in the following days.

belphegor was the last to come around. his silence spoke volumes about his guilt. he had no clue how to comfort you. he'd do anything to repent for his actions. yet that was the way that life worked, didn't it? some actions simply cannot be undone.

but you didn't let that stop you. despite the panic that closed your throat every time you saw him for the next month, you slowly earned his friendship again. you assured him that the attic incident was a one time thing, the remnants of a lost nightmare blending into your consciousness as you awoke.

until it wasn't a one time thing.

the nightmares crept up on you. the first one happened, of course, that same night, as you thrashed and wept into lucifer's pillows. then a week later, another. a week and a half after that, another. the frequency eventually became higher and higher, until you started planning your sleep schedule (or lack thereof) around your new insomniac tendencies. but even you couldn't manage to stay awake forever.

on a bad night, you'd wake up in tears, crying weakly to yourself as you tried to coax yourself back to bed. on worse nights, you'd shoot up out of bed, limbs tingling in fear, opting to spend the rest of the night in the common room until the others woke for the day. on the worst night, you finally broke. you shattered worse than you could have imagined.

you finally collapsed into bed, body shutting down after a three days of minimal sleep. you were starting to get shaky from the lack of rest, and your lack of appetite was upsetting the others. you crawled under the covers and let your brain slip out of your hands and off to dreamland.

what a fool you were to think you'd get by without nightmares.

visions of demonic teeth tearing at your flesh filled your head. you tried to run away, tried desperately to wake yourself up, but their claws sunk into your flesh. the pain was vivid, was real. memories of your death lived underneath your skin, ready to resurface in the dark of night when there was no escape. you fought back as best you could, kicking and screaming and trying to run, but you were no match for the supernatural strength of your demons. you eventually gave in, an act of learned helplessness, and surrendered yourself to your worst nightmares.

you woke up choking on your own tears. heaving, gasping breaths tried to save you, mixing with coughs as your body struggled to hang on. the tears finally gave way to the memories-- hot blood dripping from your torso, screaming faces begging you to stay, your head going fuzzy as your vision followed--and your screams escaped without a fight.

a mixed cacophony of voices came flooding in the room. you'd be touched by the gesture, seeking comfort in the arms of your dearest friends, if your brain hadn't reminded you that they were demons as well. nightmarish beasts with fangs and claws, predators built to rip your soft flesh from your bones and leave you to die like roadkill.

you felt a hand on your shoulder. who's was it? you could not tell. your first and only instinct was to scream for mercy, hot tears streaming down your face as mammon's hurt expression moved back out of your line of sight. your chest heaved with effort. it felt like your whole body was caving in on itself. you didn't even realize you were shaking as you curled your body into a ball. your side hit the mattress with a pathetic thud and you wept, bitter and fearful, as a panic attack kept you trapped in its grip.

you don't know how long you stayed curled up like that, wordless cries echoing from your room and into the hallway, but eventually the sound of approaching footsteps caught enough of your attention to forget the panic, even if just for a moment.

"hey, it's okay," a familiar, comforting voice approached, cutting through the fear like a moonlight on a stormy night. "mc, it's me, it's simeon. it's going to be okay."

you felt the bed shift under the weight of someone sitting down, and you blindly threw your body at the person before checking to see if it was really him. it took you a few moments to raise your head, and when you did, you saw him: simeon, your angel, blue eyes full of worry as he met your gaze.

you cried in his arms until you fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

the next morning was miserable, to say the least. breakfast was tense. they all watched you like a hawk, like you were a powder keg about to explode with one wrong move. you couldn't blame them. you were afraid of your own emotions, and on some level, you were afraid of them. your trauma was making you afraid of the very people you cared about the most. these brothers had welcomed you into their home, took care of you as you adjusted to life in the devildom, and yet you couldn't hold eye contact without breaking in to a cold sweat.

the only person who did not watch you was belphegor. he was nowhere to be found during breakfast, nor dinner, nor breakfast the following day. you tried to seek him out, but somehow the avatar of sloth had become a skilled sneak in his silence.

you finally caught him alone on day four of radio silence. you both had stayed home without realizing the other had also skipped school that day-- you, from the lack of sleep eating at your brain, and belphegor, with his usual routine of missing class to nap at the house of lamentation. he was curled up on the couch in the common room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace in his slumber. you decided to wait for him to wake up. you sat down on the couch opposite of the one where he rested and watched him, quietly, like he'd disappear if you dared to blink.

creepy? yes. but your brain was long ruined by sleep deprivation and gnawing anxiety to worry about such trivial things.

when he finally stirred, you gently called belphegor's name. he took a moment to finally look at the source of the voice, but when he did, his body froze as the two of you made eye contact. a few moments passed in silence. finally, he sat up and began to make a move to leave.

"wait."

he stopped, but his gaze did not meet yours. you rose from your seat and joined him on the couch. the youngest pulled his legs in, twisting his body into a defensive little ball, and countered your next sentence before you could even open your mouth.

"you shouldn't be here with me."

"i think i'm old enough to make decisions for myself."

he shifted uncomfortably in the silence. you spoke again.

"i miss you. and i'm sorry."

he scoffed to himself and stared at the fireplace. "don't know why you think you should be apologizing to me. i'm the one that's the problem."

"you're not a problem, belphie. i never meant to make you feel like one."

every hair on your body stood on end. your hands trembled against your wishes, so you sat on them to stay focused. you had to do this. you had to keep moving forward.

"i hurt you, mc. you're afraid i'm going to do it again."

you sighed-- it came out more shaky than you would have liked-- and looked down. how had it come to this? how had someone you'd grown to hold so dear become a stranger again?

"i don't want to stop being friends. i don't like when you avoid me."

"you still get nightmares, don't you?"

you pause. his icy gaze on the side of your head sent you into a cold sweat.

you smiled-- it felt more like a grimace, personally-- and prayed it didn't come across insincere. your fingers carefully intertwined with his. he met your gaze. you were thankful he couldn't see the way your chest tightened when you made eye contact. 

"i'm okay, belphie," you lied. 

this fear was going to be the death of you. 

[hell-drabbles]

Leviathan and Ra-on 1

Summary: You’ve tasked yourself with teaching Ra-on how to do the type of play Leviathan likes, since that devil’s teaching methods are horrendous. That and Ra-on was clearly interested in it.

(This is probably not canon but eh, I don't really know. Had this scene in my mind and I figured this would be fun. Lot of things happened back to back on my end. Things are… eh, they’re not getting worse so there’s that. Anyways, enjoy.)

“Alright, so in general choking practice, you actually don’t want to constrict the windpipe,” one of your knees was digging into the shoulder of a bound and gagged Leviathan, pinning him flat on his back on the ground, “typically, you just wrap your hands around them neck, but you press against the arteries and put very light pressure with your palm around the trachea.”

You shoved your hand around his neck and press him further into the pillow you placed. Leviathan’s bit further into his gag, his face slowly turning red, but had just enough breathe to growl at you. Clearly you are not the one he wanted to touch him, and yet he still didn’t press the clicker you gave him. His hands are free. There’s nothing stopping him from signaling he wanted this to stop.

Perhaps it’s his pride talking, but negotiations have been made. You cannot be faulted for whatever limits you push if he doesn’t signal that you’re at that point.

“Here, take a closer look,” you waved Ra-on closer, pointing to your hand.

At the start of all this, Ra-on had shoved himself to the nearest wall, trying to disappear into it like he was afraid he’ll irritate you, or he was intruding on something private. Though, that did the opposite because you’re only doing this to teach Ra-on something things you’ve learned over the years.

He’s closer now, but in that wavering sort of way like he was ready to dash out of this room as soon as something changed in your mood.

You sighed. “Ra-on, get over here. You need to see the way I position my hand.”

“O-oh!” Ra-on tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it over his crotch, “Right! Sorry!”

He awkwardly knelt right next to you and you made sure to push all irritation as far down as you could. You can’t fault him for popping a boner in a situation like this. After all, you’re pretty sure Leviathan is also in the same state, and you’d be pretty biased to be angry at Ra-on and not at Leviathan.

Just ignore it and continue teaching… and also take enjoyment in the fact you can reduce Leviathan like this. He looks extremely irritated to be under you and you can’t help but find this entertaining, especially when you found out a while back that he was trying to mold Ra-on into his preferred partner.

This arrogant, emotionally constipated piece of shit really thinks that the best way to teach BDSM is by making Ra-on angry and waiting for the results, by goading him and taking in all the rage that he releases. And he has the gall to be disappointed when Ra-on doesn’t somehow read his mind and do the things he wants.

Idiot. Waste of space. Does being praised as beautiful really rot the brain to this state? To make one think he’s entitled to changing every aspect of a person to fit his needs and assume that’s what his partner wants most? That he knows what’s best?

None of these devils know how humans work.

“You don’t have to do this–” Ra-on noticed the stormy look on your face.

He’s right, you don’t have to do this. You can just let go and guide Ra-on’s hand while you stay away. But, you know Ra-on, and he’s not a hands-on learner. And in this situation, where Leviathan’s was bare to the world save for the ropes and gag, covered in sweat and clearly wanting more, you knew Ra-on would be unable to hear you.

All the devils here seek to entice and pull Ra-on into their world. And, one day, you fear he’ll be out of your reach if you let them take advantage of his poor self-control.

“You think I trust the devils to teach you safe sex?” They’re all dumb as shit and too indulgent in their own desires. They’re not teachers, and they’re certainly not interested in learning the limits of human beings, because Ra-on is the descendant of Solomon, so clearly he’ll like what that old ancestor liked. If his body reacts, then surely it must mean he likes it!

You heard an irritated huff and you wished Ra-on kept that to himself. You accidentally tightened your grip.

“They’re not that bad–”

There was a broken, choked out moan. The body under your knee began to thrash and jut, Leviathan’s face turning to hide into his shoulder as tears marred his face, teeth nearly ripping through the gag.

And, because you were dressed lightly, you felt your whole calf become soaked.

…you let go as soon as he was done, when your mind caught up with the sight.

Ra-on, right next to you, had his hand over his mouth, eyes racking over your leg as his own breath shivered out of him.

Leviathan breathed heavily, unable to look at anyone. He simply stared at the wall.

“…sorry.” You got up and off him.

Right, right, you forgot that these devils have a very high libido, and this Leviathan, out of his disappointment that Ra-on “kept holding back,” refused to sleep with him for… a good three weeks. Of course he’d be half a hair away from his release.

Though, you have to admit, it's kind of impressive that tying him up and choking him was enough to get his rocks off. Huh.

…alright, let's see.

You collected yourself with a nice, deep breath. Again, this is a natural reaction. You were expecting this, just not this soon.

“You both good to continue or…?”

Ra-on was snapped out of his trance with two little clicks. Leviathan was back to glaring at you, but there was a glimmer of determination in them.

Ra-on looked in your direction but didn’t quite meet your eyes. Your soaked leg had all his attention.

You snapped your fingers, “Ra-on, can you get me the towel over there?”

“Huh?” Only then did he finally meet your gaze, “Oh, right!”

“Alright, next up on the agenda is… pain play, right?”

[yandere-collections]

Hi yes hello there, you have officially rotted my brain my guy. I just can't get the yandere small town out of my head, top teir stuff. So I had this thought, I don't know if this is something you do but, imagine with me. A serial killer darling. Like the reader just moved into this small town because they recently got a little slopy and need to lay low for a while. My question is how exactly do you think the towns people would respond? Do you think they'd fully throw themselves at the readers feet, begging, praying to be killed by them. Or do you think they'd be a bit more subtle? Cops off handedly mentioning gaps in patrols that would make a perfect time to strike, the diner siblings showing off a new knife set they got from out of town, someone who's been trying to take you away suddenly perfectly lining up with the kind of people you kill.

Sorry this so long, but believe it or not this is the short version (the brain rot my guy, what have you done to me XD) you don't have to respond to this if you don't want to, I just needed some of this out of my head

This is absolutely wonderful, thank you for sending it in! <3

The first people to find out you were on a most wanted list (in more ways than one ;)) was the sheriff, which then quickly spread to the rest of the station. An alert was sent out nation wide, showing footage of you taken from a cctv near one of your killings, followed by a composite sketch from two different witnesses. It didn't look exactly like you yet they recognized it instantly as the person who moved into town two weeks ago with only a duffel bag at your side. You hadn't known what to do, knowing it was only a matter of time before you were caught. You didn't have a plan when you fled, basically choosing a direction based on the cheapest bus ticket to a tiny city. On the way, you found the path to an even smaller town, isolated and out of the way. It didn't take long for the town to fall in love. They ignored your red flags like how you didn't talk about where you came from or how you kept buying rope and duct tape. In fact those items seemed to be on sale more often than they weren't.

The next town meeting was a long one, with everyone debating what to do, how best to keep you in town and protect you from the outside world. They also discuss how best to keep you "entertained". They end up selecting two primary categories of victims for you, willing sacrifices and heretics. They also agree they have to be subtle about their knowledge of your "hobby". They can't have you suspecting anything. So you may casually over hear the mayor talk about worried they were about someone living by themselves in the wilderness, how no one would notice if something happened to them (if you go after them, you'll find some houses locked from the outside, some not locked at all). The librarian orders books about forensic science and untraceable poisons for you to check out. The grocery store clerk tells you about the federal agent who came into town yesterday, looking for some serial killer, casually mentioning his motel room number and how the place didn't really have the best security since almost anyone could grab a copy of the keys from behind the desk.

You can kill almost anyone you please in town, the only exception being a few citizens protection like the mayor and church disciples who haven't been chosen as a sacrifice. All criminal matters are handled locally. You still have to be careful when committing crimes since the police will use that as an excuse to lock you up for a few days where only they can see you. Don't worry, you'll be pardoned by the mayor in a few days

basically this energy between the townsfolk and outsiders:

[baka-bakeneko]

Streets - River Ward x Fem! V Reader [NSFW]

I found it hard to find someone like you.

tags: strip tease, shower tease, shower sex, voyeurism (thanks Johnny and River), grinding, fingering, oral sex (V receiving), cuck (Johnny, sorry), exhibitionism (nightclub grinding, feeling up), (private) public sex, lick the bowl, multiple orgasms, hint to dacryphilia, obsession/possessive kink, want it once gotta have it twice

word count: 5.2 k

synopsis: River has a brand new case and needs to start scoping out a new nightclub for his mark. But he's also invited V, so he's going full horny gonk brain.

a/n: y'all remember that doja cat video for her song 'Streets'? This is that entire vibe, it's all in the way River goes. Also my brain is on full River Ward rot, I'm sorry Takemura, i'll make it back to you.

River was done getting ready. Unfortunately, he'd been ready for the forty-five minutes it took for you to ready yourself out of bed, clean your nicest outfit and now you were in the shower.

Not that River was complaining, he'd taken the time to thumb through the file of his latest mark and while your off-pitch singing was entertaining, he was content with the studious silence that came with the closed door.

Thanks to Johnny, and Viktor to some extent, you recently got into some serious old school music. Obviously nothing compared to what was popular now, but there was something about some serious R&B.

And not to be a flair for dramatics, but River's shower was a perfect area for mental music videos. The ambient lighting he recently put in helped with the foggy glass door. You turned up your music another notch, running your hands through your hair. Thankfully, Johnny knew when to give his space.

You swayed your hips in rhythm, feeling the rivulets of warm water run down your back. Screw going out, being in here was just as good as sleep. Or sex.

River flipped through his pages for a third time, attempting to wedge anymore knowledge of his mark before finally deciding to cut your shower time short.

"V," River called, standing up from his bed and setting down his file. "Let's try and wrap it up? We were supposed to be on the road almost an hour ago."

He continued down the hallway, holding his hand out for the door to pneumatically slide open. You glanced over your shoulder, through the fogged glass to River stood in the doorway.

You used your finger to trace a heart around your sturdy boyfriend before you.

"V," River said, his voice softening a meter. "Come on."

You pulled your finger back and lined your fingernail between your teeth. With another tilt of your hips, you turned around then ran your hands down your sides.

River cocked his jaw, interested, and leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. "We don't have time for this."

You shook your hair out, turning around again to rest your hands against the glass. You kissed in the middle of the heart, then dropped down, bowing your knees. Then you were were crawling on the shower floor, accentuating the curve of your back. The dark red lights clung to your curves, easing through the steam to add a flair to the performance.

River's eyes were trained on you, shifting from the door and into the bathroom. The door slid shut behind him; River stepped a bit closer towards the shower, curiosity steering ship.

You rolled your shoulders back, pulling yourself up to your knees to River in the open doorway of the shower stall. With a wet hand, you reached out for his thigh and ran it up to grip at his waistband.

"V, please," River tried, stepping into the shower as your hand tugged harder at his clothes.

You glanced up at him, running your other wet hand along your body before sliding it between your hips to touch yourself. River grimaced, tilting his head back to soak in some steam.

You undid his pants, resting your wet hands to his skin, staring up at RIver. "Join me."

River couldn't resist the call to action, obviously swearing that he was going to be extra late trying to catch his mark. Hopefully they were known for being fashionably late because River was not going to pass up the opportunity.

"Oh, you're in trouble now," he sneered playfully, pulling off his shirt then hastily dropping his pants to the wet shower floor; River tossed his clothes out of the stall then rushed to grab you up, holding your slick body against his as he walked into the shower.

He tilted his head back at the warm stream on his face, hoisting you up on his hip before moving you just right on his waist. River stared down your body pressed against his, attempting to ignore your wet lips now parting to slosh your tongue in his ear.

"Fuuck," he drew out, only getting harder feeling your wet ass jiggle just over him. "Fuck V."

You trilled, curling your arms around his neck and sensually running your fingers across his skin, wetting him up and driving him nuts. Over his shoulder, you watched Johnny glitch into existence, perched on the bathroom sink.

"A real steam tease. Where's my eddies when I need them?" He quipped, pulling his comfort cigarette to his lips.

River pressed you to the cold shower wall, sliding his hands over your slick thighs before glancing down at his cock weeping to be inside you.

You grinned at him, taking your fingers back over your body, down your collarbone between your breasts and down to your waist; you spread yourself open for him, your eyes downturned with a sudden pout.

You were wet for him, well that was an understatement.

"Let's not waste time, Riv," you taunted, drawing your middle finger over your clit and tilting your head back to accentuate the delectable curve of your neck.

River growled, suddenly a man parched, and lapped at the water that slipped down your neck and between your breasts, lining his cock to your entrance and sinking inside.

You gasped, curling your arm around him tighter as you adjusted to his girth, a perfect fit. Melded together, wet and pliable. River massaged at your thighs, holding you a bit harder to the wall to adjust himself.

Shower sex always did prove difficult in the grand scheme of things. Still, River did his best to hold your hips and ease out of your dripping pussy, earning a long drawn groan shared before your parted lips.

How River's lips could make falling water look so hot, it was beyond you, but you felt an urge to drink him whole. You caught his lips in a kiss, sopping up the water that moistened his lips and pooling more between you.

To be dirty and clean at the same time was something to put extra effort in. You rolled your hips after River's hot cock, urging him to come back right where he was meant to.

With a groan into your mouth, his tongue licking its way in, River followed your silent order and began thrusting like he was trying to find oil.

But he was straight striking gold.

"That's some preem pussy you got there, V," Johnny called out though you were effectively pushing your parasitic friend to the way back, like hiding him in a cupboard. "Give 'im something to write home about."

You melted into River's hold, not holding back on how good he was actually hitting it. Your hand crossed on his shoulder tightened, your knees vicing on his waist to get him to slow down.

The heat from the shower congealed in the air, making your breaths short and fueling the euphoric fire that began growing in your back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you panted into his mouth, egging him to keep going.

You were already chasing a high, though your squeezing walls were bringing River to his edge as well. "Get there, V, come on. Get there."

You followed his orders, your brow creasing as your breath began to shorten further. River's eyes lulled, watching your chest heave against his until you were caught tight, squeezing further on his cock and coming in an instant.

Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, catching a few drips from the shower before kissing him again. You moaned egregiously in his mouth, riding his thrusts until River met his tide.

He stuttered into you, his heavy thrusts dully pumping into you before stopping, firmly planted inside of you and coming. You felt your own slickness mix with the water on your inside thighs, adding a new layer of filth to you from being clean.

And your eyes rolled at the healthy amount of River that was now shooting into you. He pulled away from your lips, peppering your shoulder with kisses as he relished in your gripping walls.

He waited a long moment, giving your skin more appreciation with his lips before he snapped himself back into work River.

"We gotta go," River groaned, lining his nose against yours. "We've got work to do."

You smiled innocently, "Let's get to it then."

River helped you into his truck after cleaning up and getting dressed again, almost an hour behind schedule. But those extra fifteen minutes at the end were worth it. Not only did you two have fun in the shower, you were in such a saucy, boiled mood afterwards that you teased River again.

A reverse strip tease, putting on clothes, if you could call your dress clothes, and grinding against him when you could.

River hid a pleased roll of his eyes, remembering it all again now as you sat down in the passenger seat, closing your knees again and tugging your dress down your thighs. Shutting the door for you, River bit at his knuckles then rounded the front of the truck.

He had to focus, this was a recon mission that required all of his attention. And yours too. You were good in your merc work when you were free of distractions. But on two sides of the same coin, River was a distraction.

A delicious distraction, but a distraction from the goal nonetheless. And you were sure he could say the same to you.

He climbed into the truck, starting it upon adjusting in his seat. With a glance over to you, he pulled out of the driveway and began towards the nightclub. He hoped that his mark was more than fashionably late now.

River held his hand out for you to take, bringing your hand to his lips in an appreciative kiss. "Thank you, V, for doing this with me."

You smiled, shrugged a shoulder. "Always willing to help, River."

He offered a hum in response, pulling his eyes from the road to take in your outfit. "You look really good in that."

"Really?" You were taken aback by his compliment. "Thanks babe, I got this in Japantown."

He nodded, looking at you again and piecing together more of your outfit with each passing glance. It was a spaghetti strap dress with a deep V down between your breasts.

A bit of drool pooled in River's mouth, recognizing your dress as his favorite color: red, at his favorite length to make your legs look a beautiful mile long. To make your thighs look like a goddamn present.

River's hand slipped over the center console, tenderly caressing your elbow and down to your thigh before sinking his rough fingers on the inside of your supple skin.

"Eyes on the road, mister," you teased, not stopping River's wandering hand as it inched up under your dress.

You felt like a new rush, letting your boyfriend get further under dress before his curious fingers tickled your clit.

River's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, yoyoing a gulp in his throat. "Without panties, V? You're killing me."

You pressed your cheek to your shoulder with a flirty flutter of your eyelashes. "Panty lines were not part of the outfit, Riv."

He hid a frustrated groan as you held your hand over his, guiding his middle finger into your pussy. River's cock was truly fighting against his tight jeans now, driving an ache through his body at the thought of being inside you again.

You shrugged a strap of your dress down, freeing your hardened nipple to full view. River's foot took hold of his excitement, pumping a little more acceleration into the truck and jerking forward almost prematurely.

You giggled, taking your other hand to roll your nipple between your fingers. You angled your hips out, letting River sink his finger further into you.

"God...dammit," he growled, wringing the steering wheel while his eyes fought to stay on you. At least take in more of you.

River was getting to a very different track in his mind, already chastising himself for bringing his sweet distraction. All he was doing was tempting himself.

His eyes scanned the rest of the road as you two were readying to veer onto the highway. River saw an opportune empty stretch of dirt just under the ramp and pulled his truck off of the road.

Putting the car in park, River climbed over the center console and expertly pulled the passenger seat back to wedge himself between your legs.

"River," you mewed as he drew his finger out then back in slowly.

River pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, then the other, switching back and forth in a zig-zag pattern before carefully catching your dress on the top of his head.

You giggled softly, pulling your dress further up to allow him more access. River rested his chin on the edge of the leather seat, staring at your pussy as if seeing a new haven.

He withdrew his finger in awe, pulling a trail of wetness along with a trace of his housed cum still inside you. River's eyes flicked up at you, almost imagining you as the sudden mother of his children.

But that'd have to be another day. He teased his tongue out at your clit, using his free hand to drape your leg over his shoulder.

You stared down at him, silent but panting again, ready to be taken by this insatiable man. You folded the back of your hand to your mouth, holding back an unearned moan before crying out at his lips closing around your clit and suckling at it.

You saw stars, raising your hand from your nipple to hold the back of his shaved head. You tilted your head back to the cabin, allowing him to sink his middle finger back into you before adding his index finger.

"River, shit, we're gonna be late," you whined, your other leg perching on his thigh and your ankle twitching.

River grumbled against your clit as your platform heel brushed against his steel cock in his pants. He was about to explode if you didn't first.

You were hot and cold all at once, gasping at all the stimulation you were receiving before you felt your body twitch involuntarily. You came quickly on River's fingers, on his face, soaking his chin and throat with wetness.

You seized in the passenger seat, your fingers on River's head twitching while you stretched your body out and tried to roll out of his hold. You were loud in the cabin, a breathy, nasty moan echoing against the glass and making music to River's ears.

River glanced up your body at you, earning your sultry cum-glazed stare back at him. Maybe now you'd both behave a bit better, after just a little bit more release.

He folded his tongue up, resting your abused clit against it for you to see. Your eyes rolled at the vulgar scene, feeling yourself coming again from the sight. Your pussy pulsed as River's fingers pulled from its wake, leaving you a chilled, sloppy mess.

"On to business," River growled, climbing up to you and kissing your lips, allowing you to taste yourself.

You caught your breath after his lips left you, licking your lips to savor the wet from him. Johnny materialized in the backseat as you waded your dress to its full length, adjusting your dress strap again.

"Damn V, what're you doing to him? This man's a dog, right now." Johnny leaned forward to stare at River while he pulled himself together again. "You've got this cop lapping out of your cunt as we speak."

You rolled your eyes at Johnny, reaching across the console to grab the back of River's neck. You pet carefully, circling your fingers along his shadowed hairline.

"You okay, baby?" you asked, leaning forward again to kiss his cheek.

River hummed in response, eventually turning and catching your lips again. "I'm fine, V."

Your hand drifted down from River's neck, petting the fur of his signature jacket before snaking your hand under it to his shoulder. "Why don't we just go home? Make some dinner?"

River grinned then, staring down at you. "Trynna get me all by yourself? Not 'till the work's done."

"This dog's not only ragged, but he's still with a goddamn bone. Just when I thought I could find solace with the cop."

You sneered carefully over River's shoulder and whispered a response to Johnny: "What, with your proclivity for pussy?"

"You know it, princess." Johnny sat back, crossing his legs and stretching across the backseat.

River kept in mind that he would never cross you. Not that he would, you were getting wormed into his heart and hurting you would only hurt himself. However, if by any small chance he fucked up, River would not want to be on your bad side.

The way you carried yourself into the club was something more than a threat. You were like a flame with legs, your dress slinking on your body with each movement you made.

He was surely going to make your night when you two got home. River was imagining it now, carefully peeling your dress to the floor but urging you to keep your heels on while he fucked you so thoroughly that you wouldn't be able to roll over afterwards.

He gulped, blinking out of his thoughts and trailing close behind you before catching up and draping his arm over your shoulders. River was still hard from mouth-and-finger-fucking you in the truck but he hid it with a shift of his waist and folding his hand in his pocket over his crotch.

"You're killing me, V," River whispered directly into your ear, straightening up to look around the crowded nightclub.

"Focus, River," you urged, scanning the same floor for his mark.

River pulled back from you. "Part for recon, circle the floor, find him, meet me at the circle booth."

You nodded, pulling away from River to saunter through the dance floor, offering a few sways of your hips in effort to blend in. River did the opposite, stopping by the bar to lean against it and order two drinks while his eyes stayed in the air.

You scanned at the area, catching onto the security camera. With a quick hack, you took control of the camera and double scanned the floor, then managed to shut it down.

River stood upright after paying for the drinks, grabbing both glasses and making his way back to you. Meeting in front of the booth, River offered a glass to you, held his hand out for you to sit then scooted in after you.

"Anything?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the booth seat, placing his glass on the table before carefully swishing it about.

You shook your head, glancing over his shoulder then returning your attention to him. "I think we might've missed your mark, baby."

River hid a deep groan, disguising it with turning away. He wanted to wait a bit longer, just to be sure. "Let's just sit tight a bit."

"Sure, Riv. I'm following your lead." You carefully ran your hand along River's thigh, purposefully avoiding riling the man up again.

River raised a brow at your hand, then at you. "Would you like to dance?"

You nodded, taking a long sip of your drink before pressing to River to urge him out. "Come on."

River slid out of the booth, allowing you out. You grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor, making a bubble big enough for the two of you.

He held his hand holding yours over your head, twirling you slightly before you pressed your back to his front. Even in heels, you were still towered by River. Your back was plastered close to his chest, his shoulder just behind your head.

Carefully, he rested his hands to your hips, attempting to hold you just far enough from his waist while keeping his attention around the room. With a glance up at him, you wiggled a bit closer and felt River's hardened stud in his pants.

You gulped, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of him. How he slotted down your back, resting firmly against your ass. You hid a groan, leaning further into River, guiding his hands up and down your body to acknowledge you once again.

River glanced down, catching onto your lengthened neck then down to see under your dress. He turned away, but couldn't help a second glance, pulling you a bit closer.

River teased his middle finger up the middle of your body, dragged it back down and caught onto the deep neckline of your dress. "God, you are addicting."

You smirked up at him, moving to the transcendental thrum of the music. "I love you too."

River smiled, turning to rest his lips to your temple. "I do love you, V. But right now I wanna fuck you 'til you can't stand," he breathed deeply into your ear, his voice a whole octave below the music and pulling a deep chill through your body.

Your knees faltered an inch, making you drop further into River and earning his hands a bit firmer against your thighs. "I want to do it right here, on the dance floor."

You gulped, your pussy quaking at the utterance of his intrusive thought. "River..." you groaned, wedging your hand between your ass and his hot crotch.

River hissed, drawing his head back to look at the ceiling. Your hand started massaging at his cock through his pants, feeling along the zipper it was pressed against and up to feel his tip now nested near his front pocket.

"V, fuck, please," River begged softly into your ear, attempting to grind you against him for a bit more relief. "Let's go back to the truck."

"What about your mark?" You asked, entranced by the lights and River, feeling a new sense of high.

"Fuck 'im, I can catch him another night," River tried, shaking his head at the thought of a deadline. "Maybe without my girl next time."

"You're missing out. You need the best merc on the job," you said with a grin.

River was in your ear again. "She's alright, she's a huge fucking distraction. All I want to do is be all over her."

You backed further into River, pressing your hand tighter to his cock. "I'm sure she wants the same from you."

River was never one to turn down an open opportunity; he grabbed your hand and made his way to the back of the nightclub to one of the open champagne rooms.

The lights were a mixture of purple-blue, a leather rounded couch circling a brass stripper pole. River nodded you inside, closing the pneumatic door behind him and locking it with a swipe of his thumb.

You managed to sit casually on the stage of the stripper pole, antsy in hips as your hands held the edge of the stage and squeezed your body in tight.

River shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch, leaned over it to clasp his hands and stare at you. He narrowed his eyes, licked his lips as his eyes dragged down your body in a silent mapping.

Your breath hitched, feeling River's eyes drag over your skin as if it were his goddamn tongue. You slowly parted your legs to let your boyfriend get a good look.

River drew in his bottom lip in a hiss, rounding the couch to sit down. He glanced around the room to see the remote camera in the corner.

"V," he nodded in the direction of the camera.

You did as you were silently told to, shutting off the camera before pulling yourself up on the stage and standing. You stood in front of the pole, watched carefully as River undid his belt and pants; he unfurled his hardened cock from his pants, almost reddened at the tip.

He tilted his head back, allowing his cock to stand attention as he draped his arms over the back of the couch. "Valerie, come fuck me."

You felt a distinct trickle start down your leg, already inviting River to come. Your knees held a wobble, remembering how you couldn't stay standing after fucking in the shower.

With a large step, you came down from the stage and slipped your dress from your shoulders. It slinked down to the floor in a heap which you stepped out of.

River held his breath, staring at your naked body towering in black strappy heels. It was just as sexy as wearing your dress. He brought his fingers to your hip, petting soft circles that you felt were the biggest tease of the night.

He dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in rough circles that caused you keen at the ceiling. River's cock twitched at the sound, leaking pre-cum at the sight.

Your breasts heaved as his fingers finally stopped; his hand gripped at the back of your knee and pulled you onto his lap, immediately caressing his cock to your entrance.

"You're so quiet," River whispered as your other knee followed suit outside of his waist. "Where's that confident V?"

You shook your head, already driving that thought to the back. You were all over him in an instant, crossing your arms behind his neck and talking against his lips.

"I don't wanna talk, I want to fuck," you whispered against him. Your breasts pressed to his chest as your pussy slicked against his cock.

River agreed, his hands guiding up to your hips and holding onto them, letting you take the lead. You backed up on his cock, allowing his tip to pop into your entrance until you sank down on him.

The two of you almost collapsed at the collided feeling, almost euphoric to another level. River hid a grimace, already fighting to come inside.

You wiggled your hips forward, feeling his tip ring at your g-spot. "River..."

River nodded, holding your hips then caressing down to your ass, massaging at the flesh. You curled into him, unable to hide your excitement from his touch.

You were suddenly needy for all of River, pressing into him like the two of you would coalesce better than you and Johnny. Not that you would truly want to because you'd miss this feeling.

River shifted you impossibly close, slowly easing you up on his cock then back down and earning a pitchy moan from you.

"I love being inside you," River offered back against your lips; you nodded to his statement, shifting your hips once to agree.

He eased you up and down again, soft bounces against his thighs until he finally came inside you and chastised himself for not holding out.

You were still enjoying yourself and River wasn't done with you either. He turned you around on his hips, dragging you to the floor with your ass firmly against his thighs.

He was then a full dog in heat. River pulled off his shirt, peeling his pants further down his thighs to press his skin to yours.

He leaned over you, peppering your shoulders as his hand reached around to your clit. "Come on, V, make it creamy for me."

Your knees melted apart at the order, wanting to come on his hot cock while the orgasm began to war on your lower back. You wanted to cry out River's name, catching your breath in gulps while his cock now leisurely pumped into you.

"V," he sang into your ear, your chest heaving as if you were about to cry. "I want to make that pussy feel good, baby."

You arched your back into him, wanting to roll on the dirty ground with him. Instead you came so hard between his fingers and cock, your body bowing away from him to lock and shake from the heat.

River praised you softly, trailing his lips down your spine before softly pulling out. You felt the strength in your body leave when River left you.

Your knees buckled like a fawn's, holding your hips up to the cool air as River's cum slugged out of you. Your peace was short lived, however, as River took grip of the back of your thigh and turned you on your back, on the floor.

"You are so beautiful," River said with a gasp of awe, leaning over you to tenderly kiss your cheeks. "I'm sorry to make you cry."

You furrowed your brows at River, raising up on your elbows to follow him off of you. "What do you mea--"

It was realized too late when River's mouth clamped over your clit. You saw stars yet again, this time a full fledged galaxy as you tried to worm out of River's now clasping arms around your waist, his hands holding your leaking pussy open while he gulped at your clit.

River's name on your lips then could not be helped. It was a vulgar utterance, like his entire title was a curse word and blessing at once. Your hands went for your breasts, staring down at River planted firmly between your slick thighs.

You watched as he licked away from your clit, offered lining of your lips before returning to obliterate the sensitive nerves in your nub.

The words you said then were not meant to be hurtful, trying to stave off the electric coiling that was whipping up in your body. "Fuuuck you River, fuuuuck you."

The pain definitely tucked behind the pleasure, all of your body stung and spent though River was huffing and humming and licking.

Your knees bucked up, ready to squeeze River's perfect head away for the feeling to finally stop but it backfired and you were keening to the ceiling, your back arching with electric whips. Your ankles kicked out over River's broad back, your body actually deflating with the amount of energy you lost. Your eyes welled up with mist, hating and loving everything you felt at the moment.

River dropped your hips then, pulled himself off of you and leaned over to kiss you. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he repeated soothingly, his hands carefully petting your hips.

You shook your head, your face a lemon of defeatedness and euphoria. "Be lucky I love you."

River grinned softly, kissing your cheek then neck and shoulder.

Getting dressed again was a whirlwind, attempting to step into your dress while your knees were definitely recalibrating. River watched the spectacle from the couch, already dressed and clean to the best of his ability. Your wetness was not something to be played off so simply, leaving a large spot directly over his zipper.

It chafed against his cock and he was almost ready to go again. When you finally managed enough stability to walk out, River draped his coat over your shoulders then followed you out.

As the two of you started for the front door, you noticed a familiar man slide in past security. You glanced up at River, silently asking him if that was who he thought it was.

"Yeah, I see him," River said, redirecting you to sit back in the circular booth you occupied previously. "It's gonna be a long night, V."

[thewolfprince]

Zorua!Desmond AU

(Based off of this post between myself and @teecupangel ! This will definitely have more parts to it, as I’ll be using Codextober as an inspiration for the chapters so I’m not flying totally blind like with my Sylveon!Desmond AU.)

————————————————————————

At this point in life, Desmond only cared for two things: his Pokémon companion and his ancestors. He was going to sacrifice himself for the world anyways, so why should he care about his father? Or Shaun and Rebecca?

No matter what Desmond tried to tell himself, he knew it was hopeless. He cared for them. So he sent them away before activating the Eye. So they didn’t have to watch his death.

He ordered Shaun to bring Sneak with him. Sneak being the one Pokémon companion Desmond kept from his early days at The Farm. The other Pokémon his father forced him to train had been freed when he ran away, or more likely given to other novices.

Desmond refused to use his Pokémon to fight solely on his behalf like other “trainers” in the modern day did. He preferred to use his fists alongside his Pokémon. He and Sneak were two sides of a coin, true partners to the end.

But Sneak deserved to live a long, healthy life. Tears started to pool in Desmond’s eyes as he approached the Eye and raised his hand. Taking a slow breath, he touched the Eye just as a black and red blur ran past him to also touch the Isu device.

Pain engulfed Desmond’s arm and he screamed as hot molten lava flowed through his veins. Something registered in his mind, a series of words that didn’t make sense as the pain scrambled his brain.

No! I need to be with him, I can’t let Desmond be alone again! I promised him!

/\

A sickly boy lay in bed, coughing harshly while his mother hovered over him with a wet cloth and the foul-tasting medicine the dottore had prescribed. Struck with fever in the night, the boy had remained ill for two days. This day, his mother hovered yet again, and while the boy dearly loved his mother he was getting sick of being bed bound.

One of his elder brothers promised to return with something fun for the boy and the boy waited to see what his brother would bring him, entertaining himself by trying to guess what the young lad would bring.

“Oh Petrucco!” Sang his elder brother, holding his bag in his arms. “I have brought you a present, fratello!” He barged into the room and Petrucco’s eyes immediately fell upon the bag in his older brother’s arms.

“I… liberated him from the Pazzi cazzo that tried to attack me on my way to the church.” Petrucco giggled at the blatant lie his brother tried to give him.

“Oh Ezio…” Their mother sighed and shook her head fondly. “Now, I must go run an errand. Ezio, look after your little brother please.” She gave Ezio a knowing look that Ezio simply grinned cheekily at.

“Goodbye Mama!” Petrucco called as Ezio waved. When she shut the door behind her, Petrucco bounced in impatience. “What did you get me, Ezio? Show me, show me!”

A muffled yip came from the bag and Petrucco gasped as a fluffy white and red head poked out of Ezio’s satchel. It’s front paw was completely blackened, almost as if it had rotted but not fallen off. And without the smell.

“What is it?” Petrucco asked softly, crawling to the edge of his bed for a better look.

“I thought you were the aspiring Trainer, piccolo uccello.” Ezio teased, sitting himself and the bag with the Pokémon onto Petrucco’s bed. The Pokémon sniffed the air before hesitantly hopping out of the bag to sniff Petrucco.

Petrucco held his hand still for the Pokémon to sniff. It chirped and looked up at him.

“Now,” Ezio grinned, brandishing a small bag in front of himself, “time to find what this little guy will eat.” He handed the bag over to Petrucco who put his hand inside and pulled out a handful of Berries.

A long-standing tradition, even longer than the Auditore name, gaining a Pokémon’s trust by showing that you’d care for it and treat it well. Not everyone followed the tradition, in fact the Auditores were put under scrutiny several times for it. People these days prefer to just catch Pokémon with Pokeballs and simply use their Pokémon for battle.

But Petrucco knew that to have a Pokémon was a sign of responsibility. Ezio trusted he could take care of another living creature, as sickly as he was most days. His heart warmed for his older brother’s love.

The Pokémon sniffed at the Berries, looked at Petrucco, then back down at the Berries. It hesitantly took a red Berry and slowly ate it. Its eyes lit up and it nuzzled Petrucco’s hand with a happy yip.

Petrucco yawned, suddenly feeling all his excitement give way to exhaustion. He put the rest of the Berries in the bag before handing it back to his older brother. The Pokémon on his lap chirped before circling on Petrucco’s lap, laying down.

Ezio smiled. “I’ll leave you two be.” He said softly, standing up and quietly easing his way out of Petrucco’s room. Petrucco smiled as he quickly fell into slumber. He’d have to figure out a way to properly thank Ezio for this amazing gift.

/\

Every Auditore could see how Petrucco’s life improved with his new companion at his side. After pouring through the family library, Petrucco learned his companion was a Zorua. He promptly named the Zorua Desmond and the two were inseparable. Desmond and Petrucco were a common sight together, getting into mischief on the days Petrucco felt strong enough to leave bed. On the days he was bed-ridden, Petrucco enjoyed Desmond’s company as the Pokémon entertained his Trainer the best he could.

Sometimes Federico and Ezio would stop by and teach Petrucco things about battling, using their own Pokémon to train both boy and companion. Federico’s Farfetch’d and Ezio’s Eevee started out easy on the inexperienced duo, stepping up the pace as Petrucco took to battling like a Magikarp to water. Soon, Petrucco and Desmond wiped the floor with the elders, even if Petrucco suspected they were making it easier for him to win by not using their full strength.

While Petrucco’s mind grew sharper and his bond with Desmond grew deeper, ultimately it wasn’t enough as he was awoken by gruff guards and brought alongside his Father and eldest brother to the gallows. The only thing on Petrucco’s mind was Desmond as the executioner placed the noose around his tiny neck.

Please, Lord. Don’t leave him alone. Make sure he’s safe. Let Desmond live.

[starheirxero]

Ok so, I ask a lot about our favorite boi (Centi... my Beloved...) however I was wondering if you have any interesting thoughts about other characters in the castle (Which, assuming is similar to canon and is only Sunvent).

As a result I have three big questions! One, which is based on almost every universe having eclipse drinking massive amounts of tea, does he like tea/ can eat? Two, does he interact with the world's inhabitants outside of when eclipse does, and does he enjoy it when he does (even if eclipse is there?)

finally three, since in most AU it is explained that the reason eclipse isn't rotting from the star power is because he is using something else as a conduit (a servant, since every surviving lord has a servant). does eclipse use sun as a conduit system, and how do you head canon that effects him?

if these are completely irrelevant its totally fine if you can only answer one or two (or if you just feel like answering a bit of this, I'm just happy to brain rot in the Centi box)

Anyway here is this as ask box rent

DEAR BELOVED MUTUAL JUSTAFUNKYDUDE DID U KNOW U R MY LIFEBLOOD. I ADORE ALL UR WORLDBUILDING QUESTIONS IT FILLS ME WITH AN ENDLESS JOY

1) I think technically Lord Eclipse could eat/drink (nanobots and/or star power stuff) but I think he simply chooses not to unless it's for dramatic effect, yk? (hence the lack of mouth) Like, I drew him with a wine glass one time, but it was definitely just for dramatic effect and to seem like he's "casual" in the situation rather than to actually enjoy it LOL

2) I'm assuming you mean Sunvant here and in that case: yes, he does actually interact with the other followers a good bit and yes, I'd say he usually enjoys it(and probably especially with Lord Eclipse there)! Or, like, during the earlier years at least. Since Sun was basically Lord Eclipse's right-hand, he was regarded with as much respect as Eclipse himself! His very presence was like a morale boost LOL

But, I think that as Lord Eclipse started to become less and less sociable, Sun started to be recognized less as "the saint" and more "the favorite" which led to colder or outright cruel treatment from some. He still goes out and interacts with other people, but a good outing is no longer defined by how many people he helps and instead by how many people don't outright taunt him </3

3) OH YESYES I'VE HEARD OF THAT IDEA !!! Anima Sola was my first introduction to the concept and it is so cool to me LMAO 🙏 I don't think Sunvant is used as a conduit in this world tho?? Maybe. I dunno that might be subject to change now actually LOL

I feel like if Centiclipse did use Sun in such a way, there wouldn't be too too much change?? or. well. mmm??? Not too much change in the dynamic, but maybe a bit of change in what is focused on, if that makes any sense.

Lord Eclipse telling Sun that if he wants to stay his servant and hold onto such a power, then he needs to act like it(not that he would ever get rid of Sun, he needs him too much). Sun being horrified at his own fantasies of finding a way to rip out the connection between him and Eclipse. OOO maybe certain dissenters would try to kill Sun in hopes of taking down Eclipse.....

I dunno, I'll definitely say it's fun to entertain!! It's almost a dlc sorta idea! It just adds on to what was already there and makes it a little more angsty LOL

[winderlylandchime]

I cannot believe that everyone can tell that my brother is dumb enough to actually think about making Randy his therapist. Even my neighbor when I told her went ‘oh he would totally be his client if he lived close by.’

Honestly I still can’t believe he is retiring. I’m very happy for him that he is doing something with his life that he believes will bring him joy and stability but fuck does it hurt a little. I think the trouble I’m having is because I’ve seen him on the show/interviews and now podcast so it’s very strange to imagine him being all serious and professional. Hopefully this doesn’t mean we will never see him again. But i hope he has a successful career and that he enjoys it while also helping people.

I feel like Gale probably has to do some normal-ish type of jobs but I feel like he would maybe go for theatre and either teach it or something to do with that. I mean i don’t even know what part of the country the guy lives in so I think that probably has a lot of say in what he’s doing with his career. I did tell my brother that IF anybody were to give us a proof of life for him it will probably be Robert for birthday posts.. Hopefully Robert gets my message from the universe and delivers us some proof of life.

And as for my brothers collection of purses: it’s not a very big collection, he only uses it for “special occasions” like two weeks ago when he went to a mechanic for his car or a doctor check up but i think he has like 5. Two of them i know are small sized black ones (enough only for a wallet/keys/phone) because he made me buy him one for his bday. And I know one of them is a screaming yellow color because ‘sometimes you need a pop of color’. But the reason he actually started using them was because 12-15ish years ago, his friends and him were going to Pride and none of them decided on an outfit that had pockets. So one day he was at a mall and he found a purse with a rainbow on it (i teased him that it was pride merch but he swears it was a sign from the universe) so he bought it for Pride so that him and his friends could put their wallets/keys inside. I wish i was joking when I say that the hetero himbos who went to pride just to accompany me, treated this accessory as if he was the biggest genius they ever met. My brother actually said to my mom ‘yooo why didn’t you tell me about this luxury? There’s so much space for stuff in here! I can even put snacks in here.’

As for the qaf dvds, one of our cousins actually does have them but he forgot about that and tbh I think she is waiting to tell him because she knows he would try to steal them. But I wouldn’t put it past him to actually succeed in finding them on ebay or something, he is stubborn enough.

The funny thing is, dear sweet anon, Randy would kind of be the perfect therapist for your brother since all his angst right now is about QAF and one of the few people with actual answers is Randy.

My biggest fear about Randy as a therapist is less than people have seen him naked and having very realistic simulated sex on Showtime and more that on the podcast he gave his opinions about pop culture and he's such a snob! I don't want my therapist to think less of me because I have brain rot for a TV show or I like a musical that's not (gasp!) Sondheim... and he totally gives that vibe on the pod.

I do think Gale lives in LA. Or at least that's what I last heard. Which means there's a million ways to make money that's entertainment industry adjacent.

I love that your brother and his hetero himbos accompanied you to Pride and brought a communal purse and then marveled at it. Without for a moment considering why their outfits didn't have pockets and why most women's clothing doesn't have pockets. And why purses are necessary at all. (TBH I carry a big mom bag because I have anxiety and what if I need... water, advil, a bandaid, a hairbrush, a protein bar, a change of clothes, etc while I'm out?)

I think the DVDs are definitely available on eBay! They might just cost an arm and a leg. Just typing that I feel like I'm dooming your brother to an accident involving his arm and/or leg. Tell him to be careful!

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hi hello !!! I'm here for the Redacted Audios match-ups, sooo Here ya go !!!

Punching Bag by Set it off, I love that band. I've been listening to them since middle school. I like when it says, “So say goodbye to your Mr.Nice Guy you got your wish, he’s rotting in hell..”, cuz that’s when the beat drops and I just like how it sounds. 

So I took the test just for this and apparently I’m type 5 “the investigator”. I don’t really know much about this but hope that tells you whatever you need to know. 👁👄👁👍

Not really, but I do love watching movie and drama video essays as background noise while I’m doing something else.

I didn’t have an imaginary friend...so…💀👌. Nah you know what let me make up one. His name was Bob the builder and he was the filler for my absent father figure. 😀👍

I usually end up falling asleep while listening to ASMR, I mean one of the reasons I love ASMR is cuz its great background noise.

I’ve never really wanted to change my name, but I think names like Hyacinth and Rain are pretty cool. They sound like character names and also I love nature so it’s like the perfect match up.

At the moment I really like listening to Milo’s play-through of the Mortuary Assistant. I just find it entertaining to watch and, again, I like to put it as background noise.

Ollie (sorry), I just don’t really find him interesting at all. Which I get he isn’t trying to be a super complex character, like that isn’t his purpose, but because I just don’t have much feelings for him.

H2O just add water and Mako Mermaids were my shit when I was little, and even now I still go back from time to time, I’ve watched all the seasons of both series multiple times over and to this day I continue to be a mermaid fanatic.

I LOVE HUXLEY WITH ALL MY HEART !!! LIKE HE IS SO WHOLESOME AND COMFORTING I JUST WANT TO HUG HIM.

Not really, at least not that I know of, but I do love knowing random fun facts about miscellaneous subjects. More specifically about Greek mythology, space, and folklore.

Gatorade with a ham sub sandwich.

I don’t really know if you are asking about music or ASMR so I will give you both. I’m currently obsessed with ‘EPIC the musical’ . It's a musical about the Greek poem ‘The Odyssey’.

My guilty pleasure is, very predictably, ASMR. I just find it relaxing and I love the stories that can be told through. 

Other stuff about me: I’m a Taurus and my mbti is INTJ. uuh I don’t really know what else to say so I hope this is enough info about me. This was pretty fun. I felt like I was having an interview about myself. :]

Ahhh, a Type Five, INTJ, oh, that is fun (and the same stats as Sherlock Holmes probably). Intellectual, curious, thoughtful, always thinking, always learning… I think a little serenity might do you some good.

Something about the way you talk about background noise while you work and relax makes me wonder how busy your brain must be; does that make sense? (I’m the same way, like I need mental fidget toys to focus properly?) I imagine Cam would be so helpful in that respect, with his even voice and his soothing demeanor.

You know what would be so lovely that I could absolutely imagine? Cam strikes me as a pretty old daemon, not as old as Vega but older, distinguished… the type to love Shakespeare, Dickens, the classics. Just imagine leaning your head on his shoulder as he reads to you, whatever book of whatever country’s lore your heart fancies that day. You get a nap, he gets a snack, everybody’s happy~!

Song:

When your legs don't work like they used to before/ And I can't sweep you off of your feet/ Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love/ Will your eyes still smile from your cheek

I don’t know how I feel about mixing Cam with Ed Sheeran either, I’ll admit, but it’s the vibes. Man strikes me as a romantic who likes a slower, sweeter kind of song- the kind you don’t necessarily dance to but hold each other and sway, you know? (Also, to throw a little bitter in with that sweet, he would actually love you until your legs don’t work like they used to before… and then some. Probably forever.)

Runner-Ups:

Lowkey, I like Morgan for you because he gives off a lot of the same vibes as Cam: sweet, understanding, a good listener. Elliott, I like for you because he would have lost his mind at your absent father figure joke. Don’t ask me how I know that, but he just would definitely have that sense of humor. It would make him literally lol, and that’s just fun /pos

Note: I feel you I’ve had Warrior of the Mind stuck in my head for weeks

Tell me about yourself, answer some fun questions, and I’ll match you with the Redacted boy I ship you with the most! 💌

[neonscandal]

So agree with your posts about Gojo. Yes, he's not perfect but that what made him what he is. And clearly from that anon ask, the blogger is anti-gojo, and even if it's painful for me, I also agree with that blogger about Gojo's characters.

But it's thanks to you Neon that I understand more about Gojo and Geto's characters and you made me into SatoSugu shipper....All the best wishes for you 🌻🌷💐

P.s

I'm surprised that BNHA not entered your fav media. (Because at first I know you from your BNHA posts)...

Hello again, friend. 🌻💛

Buried wayyyy, way at the end of the post, the blogger from before admitted that Gojo has good characterization, that they enjoy it. I think the anti-sentiments at the beginning made it hard to concede when they make good points. So tone likely made the difference there, especially with a character that has inspired real life shrines and heart ache for fans 😅

In the interest of adding some additional perspective ✨ consider the fact that Gojo, who's been in like... MAYBE a fourth of the overall story (I'm likely being generous here), is marked by such complexity that he can be so polarizing. I find it a little entertaining that he is received in fandom largely as he's received in universe (and sometimes with the same level of misunderstanding). He can be a fan favorite and still shoulder the burden of everyone's criticism or disdain. Meanwhile, in the shadows, Mei Mei is an active child predator and opportunist but I don't see nearly enough slander out there on her. Gojo's flaws aren't unique within the parameter of the story but he'll still be the one to suffer the diatribes.

I talk a lot about how characters should be as messy as real people. Just as jagged, mercurial and evolving. The texture of a rich characterization is what gives fan artists and fanfic writers something to grab onto and gives a character life beyond the source material. So, honestly? All this makes me like him even more. 😉 I hope it does the same for you. As always, I'm glad you're here and apologize for the persisting angst of being a SatoSugu shipper hahaha And remember, my words nor anyone else's need to sway how you feel about your faves. Totally fine to consider other viewpoints, especially when trying to find nuance in the story, but what you like is what you like and that's perfectly fine.

Regarding the last ask about favorites, I tend to be a bit capricious when it comes to nailing down faves but I tried to diversify my picks! JJK and BNHA are not the same story by a long shot. Lately, I've been considering some themes or elements that cross over, sure, but aside from occupying similar real estate in my head, the comparison ends there. I only wanted to include one since anyone who's seen my blog can just... tell. ✨ I settled on JJK because I feel like we can somewhat see what the reasonable end might look like for BNHA but I am still regularly thrilled and stumped by what'll happen next in JJK.

Don't worry, anon, the love and brain rot are still there. 🧡💚

[rantyraven]

hey tumblr 

this is a little weird for me. but I feel like documenting my emotions and my trials and errors with this issue will help motivate me to actually making progress on it. for about a year and a half now I've been struggling incredibly hard with a weed addiction that I'm struggling to find a support system for. most of my closest friends not only smoke it daily as well, but are firm believers in the “it’s impossible to get addicted to weed” motto. based on their attitudes and actions tho, they’re just not self aware. looking thru tags on here have made me feel less alone and more validated that there is something wrong with me -- that there’s a reason I feel like I'm struggling so bad.

I hate who I am with weed. I feel so entirely useless and unmotivated to do anything. I miss the old me, the me that didn’t know the meaning of procrastination, who exercised daily, who actually completed projects, who actively practiced writing. I can feel my brain rotting away and I hate myself for letting this happen. 

I know this will be a long rant post and I don’t wanna clog any timelines so ---------vvv

my experience with weed didn’t begin until I was 24 when my partner brought stuff home from a dispensary out of state. back then it was fun and something I only did once in awhile. I remember how I couldn’t imagine how anyone could enjoy participating daily -- it was too much for me and I often felt hungover the next day. then I abused it during my final semester of graduate school -- the excuse was I needed to smoke to help my artistic expression. but soon I wasn’t working on my creative projects on weed anymore. I was entertaining manic episodes and busy being emotional and paranoid. the longer I smoke the more I feel like a rotting fat corpse. every day I'm desperate to stop but I still choke down 3-4 joints and maybe a bowl or two. I get anxious early in the day to smoke if there’s nothing else to distract me, or if I feel too lazy to do anything. but, the moment I smoke I feel the strength to stop and feel the shame of already fucking up before I could start. it’s so ridiculous that I only feel the motivation to completely quit weed only after just having smoked. 

god I'm so desperate to quit. I want my old life back. I want the old me. I want to live a normal life again and feel the ambition and drive and passion that I used to feel over the project ideas I have. I have so much potential to be successful and I feel crippled by this fucking drug. I hate that I can’t even confide in my friends without them interpreting my journey as some kind of better-than-thou bullshit. 

I want to quit so badly but I don’t know where to start. I've never even smoked cigarettes before so I have no experience quitting a substance that has such a grip on your life. 

I would love to receive some advice or support. maybe anyone else on here who’s in the boat with me, who also wants to work on their sobriety. I've tried and retried on my own over and over and always fail. if anything, I hope using this as a vent space for my frustrations as a quit, or if I fail again. what are some of the best ways to help distract from the craving to smoke?

[forkaround]

BL Awards - Fvcking would be less explicit

TBH, this is just me entertaining myself.

idk if this is something that comes over from BLs yaoi roots but holy fuck. This are scene that make me wonder:

WHAT IS GOING ON INSIDE THIER HEADS? (affectionate)

(BL Awards: At the end of an amazing year of absolute chaos in the world of BL. I come to you with my favorite moments of the year divided into categories that would not make it into any respectable Award show. But this is Tumblr. You know what you signed up for.) (what is going on inside their head (derogatory))

Minato + Sheet (Minato Shouji Coin Laundry)

Honestly this moment was insane. Easily the most insane moment if it wasn't for GAP. Shin is just a horny, horny teenager. Look at him tuck his head behind his ear. Look at him come up with an excuse to touch Minato. "I'm feeling the sheets". Yeah, you sure are.

Eternal Yesterday - Bite the Ear

I started this show only after seeing the gifs for this moment. And promptly dropped it. There wasn't any way this would have ended happy and I have already had 180 Degrees break my heart this year. I don't need more. I can't help but wonder, in moments like there, what are the actors thinking? Do they think this is absolutely insane? How do they do this? Honestly props to all actors, especially Japanese ones who seem to get such scenes the most.

The Eclipse - Smelling Ayan's Jacket

This was the moment I knew I was going to love this character. All that repression and then he smells Ayan's jacket the first chance he gets. I don't think I will ever get over this. And the fact that Ayan caught him. Boy is kinder than me. I won't stop making fun of Akk for this. Akk is thinking: If enemy why nice smell?

180 Degrees - Flirting over Philosophy

Let's face it, one gif can't do this justice. Every second they were together in a room, alone or having a philosophical battle was charged with more electricity than a power grid. How did it end like that? I know how and tbf there was almost no other way this could have ended but I wish, so desperately, it could have. Also, I'm a philosophy hoe, I can talk for hours and hours.

Pharm - Confessing love in food (Until We Meet Again)

(I couldn't find a gif for the moment so you get this insanely cute moment)

This wasn't this year but I saw it this year so it counts. It's the shy way Pharm explains what Bun Lan Dan Mek means and Dean's response "Who taught you to talk like that?" Insane. Pharm is the tinniest littlest guy and the audacity to make him say he was wishing for a happy married life by making this. Insane.

SamMon - Bite nose Bite lip (GAP the series)

It's a good thing I such at time management or this scene won't have made the list. Again, Just what are they thinking? And this time it's also what are the characters thinking? Sam if you want to kiss her just kiss her. No need to create intricate rituals. Your grandmother isn't here.

I can't believe this is something I get sometimes. It feels so surreal to have so much to watch, chew and brain-rot over. Tarif karu kya uski jisne tumhe banaya. (smt like what praise should I give to the one who made you)

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

dear you,

you're 26 now and the weight of the world is still on your shoulders. the drugs keep taking up so much of ur life and u don't want it to stop because it makes life more interesting and gives u perspective so what the hell. sobriety's a joke and if you're holier than me you can get the fuck out. you're tired of being small, confused, addicted. to loveless lies. pisces men. staying up all night. you love sleeping in and also having a bedtime. being boring. normal. craving a sense of peace. you're still erratic and wear what you want based on how you want to feel and impulsive but now you count how much everything costs because u knew what it was like to have nothing at all. just a few months ago. and everything's still twisted and sick and sick and twisted but it is what it is and that's exactly how u like it.

you're braver and louder and more rustic and darker. not just the tattoos or the way you dress. everything consolidated into a dark feminine energy, sensual flair, romantic elegant gothic. all black. you don't take another second to wonder if someone down the street needs to get told to shut the fuck up. you want to read more and collect information in ur brain about everything there is to learn about the world and emerge and rly hope you get into that poetry program. there's so many ways that you can choose to go backwards. there's so many easy ways to betray yourself over and over and over again until you feel like there's nothing left.there's so many ways to continue to rot in the molded peach pit of your January lover, waxing crescent, wanning gibbous. some things are not meant to be and you have to accept that. somethings that hurt that feel good when they hurt doesn't mean it's actually good. somethings that U find endearing and poetic to feel don't mean they are feelings that u ought to feel forever. they're just familiar.

last year at 25 you promised yourself to stop smoking cigarettes. you lied. but you don't blame yourself. they feel like ur first love still. and outside of those child like eyes at 26 u realize promises r always gonna be held loosely. n pinky promises can still be broken. like marriage and babies and running away in fast cars with just a jar full of change.

you're still scared of food but you're done romanticizing your youth. scraped skinned bloody knees from falling on cement just to prove u bled. like shedding skin meant transformation. you'll still romanticize passing trains that light up polluted skies, 11:11 wishes, getting tucked in at night, and ring pop proposals that mimic wedding bands, though.

you're ok with sitting in silence and being alone. ok with not having to talk and entertain the crowd, the room. you're confident in how u make a statement either way. you know you're here to open the hearts of others. to make them feel. cuz if there's one reason 2 be alive it's to write. about romance, beauty, memories, love. the eternal things. the things that could break you down, build u up, make u cry.

you're confused why 26 feels more like a commitment to be alive and have a future and that makes u feel neutral. but like u have to kind of swallow that lump in the back of ur throat that says ur gonna do it all wrong or gonna fuck it all up. you flashback now to the time when you were 13 looking in the mirror when the clock stroke midnight and u were waiting for a visible change on ur birthday. it's funny now to think that's all that was to think about change.

you're being more comfortable with who you are, and wanting to share that with others; whether that is dramatic, expressive, way 2 depressive, aggressively over exaggerated....you are never gonna try to make urself small for the comfort of others. shallow u could never be. an ocean u will embody when u reach a million more of these days of birth, these happy birthdays. it feels unreal to have made it another year. I hope it continues to feel good rather than dreadful. I won't blow out my candles this time wishing I was dead, I'll wish for peace of mind. and the strength to live day by day by day by day one day at a time.

[bondsmagii]

heya so random question but how did you develop the discipline to read three hours every day as like. a Thing as opposed to just when you felt like it. bc I. Am trying so hard and struggling with just even fifteen minutes a day even tho I have the time and I’m like ??? why brain so bad at habit making when it’s something I enjoy !! And anyways I was wondering how you do it / started doing it and if you had any advice for someone who also probably has adhd and too many books they want to read 😩💜

I am so sorry it took me like. months. to reply to this lmao I am not often online long enough to respond properly to messages and I have Standards (even if it takes me months...)

anyway. my secret was simple. a stopwatch. (or the timer on your phone, but I find a stopwatch makes it easier to avoid endless scrolling every time you pause to go pee or something.)

when I first started getting back into reading, my attention span was god-awful and there was no way I could to 3-4 hours of reading a day (I started aiming for 3, and now do 4, except on weekends where I read for as little or as long as I like). like, the chunk was so fucking massive that lol no. so in the beginning I aimed for 3 hours, but realistically I was just trying to get as close as I could.

the stopwatch was the trick to this. you do not have to do this reading all in one single chunk. I would start the timer, and read for a while, and then when my attention began straying I would pause the timer and go do something else. I'd do this all day, and then see where I was at by the end of the day. at first it was 20 minutes, 40 minutes, an hour. gradually it began creeping up. soon it was at 3 hours, and I was reading in chunks of an hour at a time. it was slow but gradual progress, but after a year I was reading for 4 hours a day and, if I wanted to, I could read that 4 hours in one single chunk.

so yeah -- be patient, work your way up to it, and internalise the idea that you do not have to sit down and do it all in one go if you don't want to. even when you reach the point where you could, you still don't have to if you're not feeling it. an Endless Task Block is absolutely terrible for ADHD, so remove that block. stop and start. do other things in between. and remember even in the early days where you're not getting close to your goal, you're still making progress.

(also, as a side note: cutting down my time on social media helped. the instant gratification I got from the constant new content made it very difficult for me to see the point in drawn-out tasks with no immediate entertainment value, and literally rotted my brain with mediocre content to the point where I couldn't appreciate anything that wasn't immediately "lol, reblog" or whatever. going cold turkey and kicking my internet addiction has done absolute wonders for my attention span, not just in reading, but also in all aspects of my life. when you get offline, time slows down, and that's good. an ADHD brain needs constant input, but eventually the input becomes so constant it's overwhelming, and it no longer works. sometimes you have to reset.)