#later on he'll feel more emotions but for right now he barely even knows what's going on

[stardust-falling]

No Time for Farewells

requested by @meowmeowed on ko-fi

Fandom: SVSSS Pairing: Yue Qingyuan & Shen Jiu Summary: After already giving up hope, and resigning himself to live out the rest of his days in torment, Shen Qingqiu receives a surprising visit in the water prison. Words: 1.4k

What use was hope for the damned?

No use at all— and so, as one condemned to die, Shen Qingqiu had abandoned it long ago. That monster he had personally raised had grown and grown until its power surpassed any other power in this world, and had decided that Shen Qingqiu would remain in its clutches until he met his end— so of course it would be so.

It was only a matter of time.

Shen Qingqiu waited for that final day to come from his dark, damp cell deep within Huan Hua Palace’s water prison, because there was nothing else left for him to do.

He’d adapted to the low light, his dismal surroundings clearly visible to his one remaining eye. He’d adapted to the pain— after having both legs torn off one after the other, anything else was hardly a tickle in comparison. He’d adapted to the intense hunger and thirst, even though his cultivation had long since been destroyed, and he realized that the beast’s blood parasites alone were keeping him alive.

At a certain point, he became quite bored of the pain and the torment, and his consciousness retreated to the recesses of his own mind, his only awareness of his surroundings being a constant half-watch on the door, just to make sure that the beast wouldn’t come in and catch him off guard.

Even though Shen Qingqiu knew he was going to die, he wasn’t about to give Luo Binghe the satisfaction of seeing him break. Even if all he could do was glare with one eye, he would do so for as long as he remained conscious.

Shen Qingqiu was nothing if not stubborn.

Besides, Luo Binghe meant to torture him anyway, so it was better to make him so angry that he beat Shen Qingqiu into unconsciousness sooner rather than later. He had nothing to lose, after all, and he’d rather get it over with.

Shen Qingqiu had never considered that he might be rescued. He’d done that once before— and look where that had gotten him. Of course, this time, he’d made sure to drive that person away properly. He… had already burdened Yue Qingyuan for too long. Shen Qingqiu’s eye began to ache, so he shut it for awhile, ignoring the flashes of red and white and the burning sensation that filled it before the darkness settled in. He breathed in once, then again, the air rasping through lungs that had been damaged by his repeatedly-broken ribs, then healed messily, only to be damaged once again before the scar tissue had fully formed.

This couldn’t keep going for much longer, right?

He released a short, bitter laugh— really, it was more of a wheeze. Of course it could.

Shen Qingqiu knew he would only have the luxury of dying when Luo Binghe grew tired of him, and that… didn’t seem like it would be happening any time soon.

Time passed by— how long had it been since he’d closed his eye? He wasn’t exactly sure. Maybe he’d dozed off for a bit, at this point he didn’t much care. There was a bit of a commotion beyond the walls of his cell. He grimaced. The beast must have returned, and one or another of his subordinates must have made him angry. No doubt the remaining vestiges of that anger would soon be taken out on Shen Qingqiu’s own battered body.

Best to brace himself now, so that he could seem as unaffected as possible later.

He was too busy preparing for the pain that he didn’t notice that instead of one steady set of footsteps approaching the cell door, there were several. The gait was familiar, yet not the same sound as Luo Binghe’s— Shen Qingqiu’s mind had just begun to process this information when the cell door rattled.

He startled, his eye opening wide as he jolted himself up into a slightly-raised position, reaching to shakily brush his matted, tangled hair away from his face.

A moment passed, just the space of a single breath, but to Shen Qingqiu it felt like hours.

Then, there was a flash of brilliant white light, a sharp, high-pitched sound ringing through the air.

The door was split in two.

All of Shen Qingqiu’s senses were shorted out at once. A great, oppressive power reverberated through the space, and he felt as though he were being pushed into the ground by the weight of a mountain. His shaky arms gave out and he collapsed. That white light flooded into the cell, filling every corner, blinding him, and the shrieking sound like a thousand winter winds drowned out any other sound.

For a moment, Shen Qingqiu blacked out.

When he came to again, someone was gently holding his wrist. The hand touching him didn’t belong to Luo Binghe, but it was familiar nonetheless. Shen Qingqiu was too dazed to pull away, and when a cool feeling like a refreshing mountain stream washed over him, he went limp once again and didn’t bother trying— what was this? Why was he getting some kind of relief now, after so long in constant torment?

Had he finally lost his mind? Was he in his death throes? Or… perhaps he was just hallucinating.

He opened his eye—

Oh… of course. It had to be a hallucination.

Why else would he be seeing Yue Qingyuan’s face before him now, with that stupid concerned-and-guilty expression on his face… why would he be here? He wouldn’t even show up when Shen Qingqiu wanted him to, why would he show up now after he’d already been driven away…

Shen Qingqiu’s cheek felt damp. His remaining eye must be bleeding now.

Had… had something new happened? He didn’t remember. He reached up, brushing away a few drops of liquid onto his hand… they were clear, he realized, as his vision distorted, watery and shimmery, and Yue Qingyuan’s features blurred in and out. His lips moved, but it was a moment before the words left them and reached Shen Qingqiu’s ears, soft yet crackling slightly, as if stepping on fallen leaves after a light rain.

“Xiao-Jiu… Qi-ge is here. Qi-ge came to get you, we’re leaving together now.”

What was this…

What was happening right now?

“Zhangmen-shixiong, we need to go. He’ll be back in no time once he realizes you’re not going to show up, and we’ll need time to prepare for the inevitable attack on Cang Qiong Mountain,” another voice cut through the haze of Shen Qingqiu’s mind… this one was familiar too. Qi Qingqi? What… what was she doing in this strange vision of his?

A soft silken robe, black as night rippling with the last shimmering of sunset, fluttered down to cover Shen Qingqiu’s body, wrapping him up in a soft, comforting scent that seemed to ease the pain of his wounds along with the cool spiritual qi flowing through his battered body. The heavy metal collar around his neck which fastened him to the wall was suddenly snapped off like it was nothing, and before he could even register what was happening he was lifted up off the ground.

Somehow, he decided that he didn’t need to struggle. Instead, he leaned his head up against a strong, well-muscled chest, his fingers involuntarily grasping at the white silk of Yue Qingyuan’s inner robe. This was all just a dream, after all, and he had nothing more to lose— why not make the most of it?

……

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? You don’t wish to go with us?” Qi Qingqi’s voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke to a figure concealed in the shadow of the walls of Luo Binghe’s back palace.

"If I were to go, he would only have more of a reason to attack,” the young woman in the shadows replied. “Besides… there’s no reason he would suspect me.”

Yue Qingyuan was nearby, already atop his sheathed sword, carrying a too-small figure bundled in his arms as he waited to leave. His face was pale, but Mu Qingfang had said that he was safe to fly— and even if he wasn’t they didn’t have much of a choice. He looked anxious, glancing back and forth for any sign of trouble.

Qi Qingqi nodded. They didn’t have any time to argue. “I understand, then. We’ll be going now. Be careful.”

“I will. Goodbye, Qi-shishu.” With that soft whisper, a small, bitter smile stretched across delicately-painted lips. “Take good care of Shizun.”

[savannahsdeath]

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

[dahliamalfoy97]

NEEDY - Muzan

MuzanxReader

A/N: probably not my best work, but I hope you enjoy it anyways!

Synopsis: Basically Y/N is feeling a bit needy and is a bit of a brat and Muzan is a sadistic bastard.

Warning: SMUT +18!! , MDNI, Yandere Muzan ! Explicit Content, daddy kink, monster kink, brat kink, degradation, masochism, slight dacryphilia, choking kink, spanking kink, manhandling, orgasm denial, overstimulation, penetration, oral sex, thigh riding, hair pulling, cockwarming, mentions of blood, and whatever else I forget to mention. Muzan is kind of mean but I mean it’s Muzan soo.

You were feeling Needy.

Your boyfriend Muzan was really focused on defeating the Demon Survey Corps and the upcoming war and you knew how important it was to him. You knew he was busy and you know he had specifically ordered you don't bother him while he was working. Usually you followed his orders but all he seemed to do is lock himself away in his lab. And it left you lonely.

Feeling needier than ever.

It had been weeks since you two had been intimate. And you were starting to forget what his touch had felt like. Sure you were a demon and life was unending. You had an infinite amount of time with him but 2 weeks seemed like forever this time around.

So probably making the worst decision of your life you dress yourself in a short red dress that hugged every curve and barely covered your ass. It was new one you had bought just for him. But he's been too busy to see it on you. You curled your hair and put on some makeup and made way to his lab.

You knocked softly.

"Who is there?" Muzan answers monotonously and you knew he was probably not even looking up at door.

"It's me, Muzan," you say.

Immediately the doors open, "I thought I've told you to not to bother me while I'm working, Y/N," you feel your heart drop because he hadn't even looked up at you and he called you by your name. Not doll, or princess.

"I know but, I barely see you anymore," you pout, creeping quietly towards where he sat in his chair with a vial in his hands. His crimson cat like eyes narrowed in pure concentration. " I miss you."

He sighs, "I know, Princess, but you know how important to this is."

" I get that but lately it seems more important than me," you can't help but hiss in dismay, leaning against his desk, admiring his breathtaking profile. You had missed him so your heart ached. As a demon naturally you didn't feel much emotions. But you burned and craved him like he was your own heartbeat.

His gaze flits to yours for a second, "I promise nothing is more important than you, but this is so we can be together without any issues. Remember?"

"Of course. And I want that future with you, but right now I need you right now."

"I'm busy, princess, I promise I'll make it up to you later."

But you're not giving up so easily, you begin prowling around him. Creeping behind him to massage his shoulders.

"Have you even eaten lately?" And he immediately relaxes under your touch. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I am a demon, I don't need those things."

Your hands curl around his tie, nibbling on his ear, he lets out a groan. His grip on the vial tightening.

"Well you can't continue to be the most powerful demon king if you're refusing to eat."

"I'll eat later," he growls. "Right now I need to finish this concoction-"

"Damn it, Muzan, you haven't even looked at me since I walked in here. I know this is important, but you can at least remember me from time to time," his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you in front of him. His crimson stare finally meeting yours,

"I can never forget you, Sweetheart."

You stick out your lower lip, "well it seems like you have. It's been 2 weeks since I've seen you, two weeks since you've touched me. And i know you've said not to bother you, but fuck Muzan, I need you. If you're going to ignore me than I can just go find Douma, I know he'll-"

The vial in his hand shatters, his veins strain against his pale skin, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you on to his lap. Your legs on dangling on both sides. You gasp at the sudden reaction.

"Don't even think about finishing that fucking sentence," he growls, those crimson eyes glaring into yours, his hands grip your waist tightly. "You're fucking mine, sweetheart, and I will kill that demon if he lays a finger on you."

Your core fluttered at his degrading words.

"Muzan, you've been ignoring me the last few weeks," you reply back. "You haven't even what I'm wearing right now and I've bought it for you."

His eyes finally do a fully take of what you're wearing, and his eyes darken, "you bought this for me," his fingers skim the satin material, "let me guess you're not wearing any panties are you?"

"Maybe, maybe I am. But you won't be able to find out if you continue to ignore me like you have been," you run your hands down his torso, feeling his muscles tense underneath you, running them all the way to where they brush along the noticeable bulge that's straining against the material of his slacks. You rub it teasingly, and grind yourself a little on his thigh. But he stops your movements with a firm grip around your waist, his jaw clenching.

You smirk, knowing he was pissed, "You mean to tell me you've been wandering around the castle without panties where anyone else but me can see you?"

"Well I mean you haven't been around to see me so really why does it matter?"

He growls, a deep guttural growl, it vibrates underneath you and you can't help but bite your lip, knowing this man was was mere seconds from unleashing the beast that slept underneath.

"You're really going to be a fucking brat? What have I fucking told you about wandering around the castle without your panties on? You know I don't want anyone else seeing what's mine."

You squeeze him tightly and his eyes flash a dangerous scarlet, "again, you haven't been around so why would I listen to you when you haven't even cared to come and see me? I've gotten lonely without you, Daddy and I have needs. But if you're not here to take care of me than I might as well go find someone else who will-"

His hand suddenly grips your throat, squeezing, "you're being a real brat, little one, you come and bother me after I've told you not to, then you decide to parade around in no panties, even when I've ordered you not to and then you decide to get mouthy. The fucking  nerve you have to speak to me like that,  looks like I need to punish you. Teach you some fucking manners."

"Fuck you," you spit in face, choking slightly in his tight trip.

Suddenly he's throwing you off of him, rage is in his eyes, shoving you to your knees.

"Fine. If you're going to be a bitch, then you can get on your fucking knees. And I'll treat you like one."

He unbuckles his pants letting them fall to the ground, his massive angry cock slaps against his stomach, the red and dripping with precum, your mouth waters as he takes the belt off and forces your hands behind you and binds them together, tightly. The leather digs into your wrists when you try to wiggle out of them.

"Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth," he demands, but he doesn't give a chance to do much as he's already gripping you by the hair, pulling you so that you're directly in front of him. His cock is right in your face. He looks down at you with a mocking grin. "Aww look at you, utterly helpless against what I'm about to do."

He grips his cock his hands, stroking it a little, before rubbing the tip up and down your awaiting lips. Smearing precum all over.

"You think you can talk to me however you please," he growls, slapping his dick on your face, continuing to taunt you with it. "Think again, slut. Did you forget who I am little one?"

Without any warning at all, he's forcing his cock into your mouth. Not giving you any chance to breath or adjust as it lodges all the way into your throat, your throat not nearly big enough to take all of him. For he was just too massive and this wasn't even him in his true demon form. You could feel every inch and vein humming against your throat, it was angry. You could feel the rage as he began to roughly slam into you. You choke immediately, but soon hollow your cheeks and breathe throw your nose so you can take him in as deep as possible. He grips your hair winding it tightly in his fists, pulling harshly against it while he abuses your mouth.

"That's it, that's much better, having you silent and gagging around my cock. Much better than that nasty attitude that comes out of it," he watches with twisted satisfaction as spit and precum begin to dribble out of your mouth. Your eyes watering as his tip hits your throat repeatedly. As he's fucking your throat, his form begins to change. His black curly hair turns into those  gorgeous snowy curls, the transformation causing his dress shirt to rip exposing his corded muscles and ribbons of red that laced around him. You whimper at the sight. He was magnificent and deadly at the same time.  "Yes, that's it, whimper for me, whimper at the sight of your King."

You wiggle against the belt that's keeping you from touching him. You so desperately wanting  to feel him underneath your finger tips.

As if he can read your mind, he laughs, "what you want to touch me? Hmm? I can't let you do that just yet. You have to be punished, sweetheart. You've been way too naughty. Way too defiant."

You protest, but his cock is keeping you from being able to speak, it- he was relentless against in your throat. He was no longer the soft man that he only was with you. No he was officially the devil, taking what he wanted from you. Using your for his sick pleasure. But you had missed it. You had missed the way he felt in your throat, the way he would pulse inside you, his warmth, his touch. His fucking attention. All of it which is why you had acted out. Your core was aching and you were rubbing your thighs together. The need becoming to great.

"are you making a mess down there?" Muzan mocks, eyes locked on your shifting thighs, never loosening his grip in your hair and relenting on his thrusts. "You've already caused me to break one of my vials. Because you couldn't be nice, you just had to go and talk back, and now I have to fucking start over on that one. What a greedy little slut."

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, your jaw was starting to hurt, at being stretched out so widely and brutally, but you didn't care. You welcomed that pain. His thrusts start to become more erratic and you feel him growing, those veins becoming more prominent as his release was nearing.

"Now be a good little slut and swallow for your King," all you can do is hum, as hot liquid pours down your throat, you welcome the salty taste as it costs your tongue, sucking greedily not wanting to miss a single drop, as he slowly starts to pull out, he smirks as you swallow it all.  "Good girl.”

In rapid motion,  he's yanking you back up, he bunches up the skirt of your dress, eyes flaring at the sight of your bare cunt. He sits down on the chair and pulls you with him, he places you on one of the mouths that decorates his leg, and you immediately fall against his chest as the wet muscle flicks against your slit. Your hands are still behind your back, so you have nothing to grab you to stabilize you. He rocks you along his thigh, body is already convulsing as the mouth on his leg eats you out. Meanwhile, he's just leaning back, watching lazily as you fall apart.

"You're so sexy when you're writhing against me like this. I love how small body is compared to mine. So easy to manipulate how I want. So easy to just break."

Your arch into him, grinding desperately along that mouth. As it cruelly sucks on your clit and draws circles, you're a whimpering mess. He laughs taking your tits in his massive hands, and latches his mouth one of them, swirling his tongue around your nipple, then he switches to the other one.

"Fuck Muzan,” you cry, and he bites down on one of your nipples causing you to scream.

"Wrong name, slut," but you can't hurl a sassy remake back, for the coil in you snaps,  causing your legs to shake and you to clamp around the mouth as your orgasm crashes through you.

"Daddy," you whimper, "again."

Once again, he laughs, "you don't get to tell me what to do, I'll do to you what I want. And you're just going to have to take whatever it is I give you."

Suddenly, he’s manhandling so you’re pinned to the table with your front side facing the table, he adjusts your stance your legs so their stretched wide. He grips you neck, pulling you in for a kiss, pulling you against him so your entire backside is pressing against his front side. He pushes your head down. He skims a hand along your ass before bringing it down in a hard slap. You jump, crying at the sting. But you could feel your arousal dripping.

"You think you can be a brat and get away with it?" He says before bringing his hand down again. "Think again," he smooths his hand along the sting before bringing it down again. Tears stream down your face, at the burning sensation. It stung. But it felt oh so good. His fingers cup your pussy lips, allowing your wetness to pool in his fingers before bringing them to your mouth and shoving them down your throat. He pulls them out and spanks you again.

"Fuck, Daddy, feels good," you cry.

He just laughs, "of course it does. Because it comes from me. Your pleasure comes from me, remember that before you get smart with me." Then he gets down on his knees behind you, his face inches away from your cunt, he grips your thighs before leaning in and giving you a slow lick. You quiver at the feeling of his hot tongue lazily licking your cunt. He continues this slow torturous pattern, lazy circles. Flicking it up and down. Sucking, biting, energyrhing he did was slow. Driving you on the brink of the edge, you were still sensitive from your previous high. You desperately wiggle yourself against him, trying to get him deeper. But his tentacles stop you from doing so, as they slither like vines around your legs, limiting movement. Like a predator finally going in for the kill, Muzan begins devouring you, body wracks in shivers at the overwhelming pleasure. As You could feel yourself getting closer to your peak, his tongue swiftly pulls out. And you glare at him for denying you of your orgasm.

"Muzan-"

SMACK!

"Still haven't learned to address me properly I see, if you're going to continue doing this bratty routine, then I'll continue denying you of what you really. But if you can be a girl good and be obedient for once, then I'll give you what you want. But you have to be a good girl for me."

"Please, Daddy," you beg, "please let me cum, I'll be a good girl, I promise."

"Really? Or are you just saying so to get what you want?" He slaps your cunt, before sinking two long inside and starts to finger fucking you, your gummy walls clamping. "Fuck, are you really this tight? Has it really been this long since I've fucked you?"

"That's what I've been tried to tell you, but you haven't been listening to me,"

He clamps his free hand around your mouth, as his other one deliciously continues thrusting in and out, "you really need to learn to shut that mouth of yours." You sink your fangs into his hand, causing him to growl, "little bitch," you smirk at the metallic as he lets go of your mouth and slaps your ass again. His fingers still deep inside, never relenting. You could feel your orgasm building again, and you selfishly grind again his fingers.

"Please, Daddy," you pester again him sweetly, with puppy eyes, “let me cum."

"I don’t think so, sweetheart, you’ve been nothing but a brat,” he purrs, “I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”

You’re practically sobbing at this point as he alternates between slow and fast thrusts, once you’re orgasm would build and you’re walls began to clench, he’d stop and start over. You were shaking at this point, aching with the need to cum. But he was cruel and relentless. But you loved it and this is what you had been wanting when you sought him out. The reason why you misbehaved. You wanted him to treat you like this.

“I don’t know why you have to torture yourself,” he coos in fake sweet voice, “all you have to do is apologize. Apologize , and I’ll give you want you want.”

One of his tentacles curl around your stomach down to your clit and begins sucking on it, and you’re wailing at this point. The pleasure is too much. Too much to bear. Sobs wreck through your body, you’re legs are barely holding you up. No it’s Muzan that’s keeping you from falling apart.

“I- im sorry Daddy,” you blubber, “I’m sorry for being a brat. I just missed you and wanted your attention. I- I was feeling lonely.”

He’s eating this up like a smug bastard, “now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

You’re so so close, but right when you’re about to cum, he pulls out fingers entirely.

“DADDY,” you whine.

“Shut the fuck up,” suddenly your walls are being breached, and his cock is slamming in. No warning, or adjusting, he was selfish with how he took you, cruel-violent. The table was creaking. “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy so much.”

“Your fault,” you snap, only to earn a slap.

His tentacles shove themselves inside your mouth. Your being impaled by his enormous cock and being gouged by his tentacles. The monster had officially ensnared you in its wrath. Destroying your body as it pleased.

“You really don’t know how to talk to me nicely,” he growls. “But perhaps this was your intention huh? Because you get off on being punished don’t you? You love the pain I give you. All you had to do was wait and be patient, but no, you had to be a selfish little brat.”

Soon he’s releasing into you before you have chance to orgasm yourself, he pulls out of you- his tentacles retracting. Hastily spins around, picks you up so you’re lying against the table, before spreading your legs again, and re-enters you again, making you feel every ridge of his monstrous cock as he split you open, deeply and slowly. Slowly, bringing you to another orgasm. The outlines of his cock could be seen in your stomach, and you moaned at the sight. His hands grip your waist, you’re gripping his arms that are incasing you, your nails digging into his skin. His scarlet orbs never leaving yours as he fucks you.

“You’re being such a good girl now, so quiet and obedient. Look how well you take my cock,” he growls softly, “this pussy is made to take my cock and mine only. Not Douma’s, so I don’t want to hear that bastard’s name come out of your lips again, understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod tiredly, you could feel yourself slipping into your headspace, as you could feel your walls tightening around his cock again. You knew you were close again, the ache was becoming too much, “you know I love only you. I just was missing you and miss how good you make me feel.”

“I know Princess. And I’m sorry for making you feel forgotten, but I promise I have not. I’ve just been super stressed,” his strokes become slower, deeper, his grunts were becoming more labored you knew he was close too. “This war isn’t going to be easy.“

“I know and I’ve been extra needy - I’m afraid of losing you,” you whisper softly, reaching up with one of your hands to caress his face, loving the way he leans into your touch.

He leans down in between thrusts, capturing your lips in a soft-yet demanding kiss, you moan when his tongue brushes against yours. “You won’t lose me, I promise, my love,” he says in between kisses. “You’ve been so good for me, go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart.”

finally you do, like a big crashing wave, your legs shake as you finally are able to let go, spraying Muzan and he growls in pride.

“That’s it, make a mess for me.”

Not long after he’s releasing into you. Once he’s filled you to brim with his hot seed, he pulls out watching as it gushes out with a satisfied hum. He starts to change back into his human form, but you shake you’re head.

“No stay like this, I love your true demon form.”

“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” then he’s lifting you his arms, and sits down with you in his lap. He settles you so you’re straddling him, and lines his tip with your entrance guiding it through your folds once more. “Now be a good girl and warm my cock for me while I continue my work.”

[lightdustchild]

Kisses of silence

Ayanokoji x Gn reader

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

How you even earned his affection was a mystery to ayanokoji. Honestly you sort of forced your way into this spot on his mind. In his heart, you never gave up swearing up and down you would make him feel. That you would be the one to make him have emotions even if only for you.

Ayanokoji's hand gripped the side of your face as light as a feather but a very teasing touch making you want more of his hands more of this affection that he was giving you. Even if only a little bit.

"I've never felt like this before..." ayanokoji admitted as he looked at you thumb absent minded as he traced cirlces on your cheek.

"The fact that you could make me feel this feeling of all things I could feel right now..." he whispered and you met his gaze curious "What kind of feelings?" you asked and he sighed which reminded you of a time before this. When he barely talked or looked at you the monotone mask the perfect human. "You know what I mean" he said as much as he could admit it he didn't want too. He couldn't do it yet not now. Maybe later, you noticed disappointment building in your stomach and most importantly doubt. Ayanokoji of course noticed, "Don't..." was all he said before covering your lips with his. He couldn't say it but it does not mean he can't express it as he devours your lips sucking and nibbling on your lowerlip. He pulled away your breathing coming in short pants as you looked at him. He didn't say it in words but he hoped his actions speaked loud enough for him. "I see..." you said softly and kissed his forehead a pink hue spread across his face dusting his cheek. Another sigh fell from his lips he didn't say he loved you but he did. He'll say it eventually.

[wildernezz]

dead poets society scene that cannot be slept on any longer (im just rambling and analyzing the sillies and pretending to be smart. also spoilers loll)

I GET THAT THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY BARELY HAS A FANDOM BUT WHY DOES EVERYONE SLEEP ON THE PUNCH SCENE WITH CHARLIE AND CAMERON?? IT'S GENUINELY SO WELL WRITTEN AND PROBABLY ONE OF THE BEST DIALOGUE SCENES I'VE SEEN IN FILM??? HELLO?????

every single actor in this scene does such an amazing job. they genuinely all feel like such real and complex characters it's insane.

i don't care if you hate cameron's character but you cannot deny that his scene was amazingly pathetic. his actor did such a perfect job at portraying him almost like a rat backed into a corner. he's doing everything he can to save himself, telling himself he's the one in the right, the one with common sense, when he knows he's faking it. all his dominance is such a pathetic lie and it's genuinely impressive to watch it be portrayed so accurately. it is exactly what it's like to watch someone desperately claw for an ounce of respect. cameron was always a desperate character, and the moment he got the chance to drop his friends and come out "higher" than them, it just made him even sadder to watch.

and meanwhile charlie's the perfect example of failed justice and passion being outpoured all at once. he has so much determination and desire to stand up for what he believes, but it's all pouring out at once. he doesn't know how to handle all of it. he knows he's done for but he can't give up for the life of him, and it all comes out in a solid swing to cameron's face. that single punch probably sums up everything about charlie, and honestly everything i love about him as a character. he seems like a menace-y little bastard, but at the end of the day he just genuinely wants to do what he thinks is right. he's fiercely protective of the people he looks up to but he'll never admit it. that little shit has ZERO clue how to handle his emotions rationally and it's honestly respectable. he doesn't know exactly who he is, but his values are so strong that he's unknowingly guided by them. basically he's just a silly little guy and i hope he punches people more often :3

AND TODD THE BELOVED <33 he is so underrated in this scene it's insane. every word feels like it's falling out of him. he's lost his best friend and he's lost all control over himself. it's powerful seeing such quiet and reserved character unwillingly transform into everything they've been trying to keep down. i will forever be in love with how his character completely breaks down after neil's death. this is kinda just me projecting but he fr feels like a representation of all of my own thoughts when breaking down, except he's actually voicing them. todd supremacy for-fucking-ever.

THE OTHERS ARE ALSO SPECIAL TOO BUT THEY DONT GET A LOTTA LINES FOR ME TO ESPECIALLY ANALYZE SO IM JUST GONNA ADD RANDOM TIDBITS OF THE OTHERS HERE.

i absolutely adore how knox acts in this scene. especially his lines of "don't touch him charlie, you do and you're out," and then for that to be followed by "you don't know that" after charlie's little "i'm out anyway"?????? knox's entire personality in this movie might be about trying to rizz up girls (and it's a little concerning now but it was a different time guys please he's silly guys i swear), but he's honestly SOO sweet when he's not focused on that. he's just as protective of his friends and it's so nice seeing him be the voice of reason. like did u guys not see how quickly he reached for charlie when he was about to kick cameron's ass????? he genuinely wants the best for his friends and he knows them well enough to try and stop them from doing any irrational shit (even tho it failed later but shshsh). love knox for that.

meeks and pitts don't say anything in this scene, but their looks alone give off so much. you can just SEE how much meeks feels betrayed by cameron, and then pitts looks like he's still trying to process the fact that cameron would even do something like that. it's honestly so sad but god it's so amazing to watch.

anyways thank u for coming to my ted talk plspls ask me about films or drop ur random analyzations to me im so desperate to analyze my favorite little guys :33

[telomeke-bbs]

Okay, not (quite) anonymous any more, but still not (that) active yet. With all the recent discussion of episode 5 and the rooftop scene, I think I've yet to see analysis of 5 [4/4] 9:06-9:13, from when Pran says "We're not even friends" to when Pat says "That's right." Of course, we didn't know it on first viewing, but based on what we learn later from episode 12 [4/4] 12:58-13:54, what Pran says must have hurt. And we see it in Pat/Ohm's reaction. I'd love to see that deconstructed.

Hi @pandasmagorica! 😍 Sorry this reply is so late; I was struggling with my post about OS2 x BBS x ATOTS and also some work deadlines.

With regard to the Ep.5 rooftop, I must agree with you that Pran's comment "We're not even friends" must really have stung for Pat.

By this point he'd been totally swept away in the rush of his new-found feelings that he also knew were returned. But Pran, contrarian as ever, was vehemently denying the existence of closeness to his face. And to deny that they were even friends when they had actually been so close and affectionate behind the scenes before must have felt like a gut punch to Pat, who was laying himself so bare and vulnerable here.

For almost all of Ep.5 we watched as Pat sank deeper and deeper into the disorientating realization that he had somehow fallen in love with his supposed rival. And he must have been pushed so close to the brink of despair by the swell of these anguished, bottled emotions that he couldn't wait even a second longer than necessary to confess it all to Pran (which of course is quite in character for our open-hearted boy).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.5 [4/4] 1.18

This was why he waited up for Pran down at the base of their block, drunk as he was, so as not to miss his return. And when he was prevented – by Wai's presence – from expressing all that was churning within him, of course he couldn't contain that pressure and it all erupted into a brawl.

But Pat on the rooftop is now showered and clearheaded, and once again focused on his task of confessing all to Pran.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.5 [4/4] 7.45

Unfortunately, as before, Pran is unaware of Pat's true feelings and is expecting their usual jostling, competitive dynamic to be the framework of their exchange. And so Pran continues to toss barbs at Pat, thinking he'll find some way to lob them back as he'd always done before.

And in a sense he does, but Pat's energy is different now. For him it's not a game anymore and the usual teasing impishness that we saw so much of in preceding episodes (and at the start of Ep.5 too) is gone.

This scene is also a callback to (and a parallel with) Ep.3 [4/4] 6.09 – in the corridor there, Pran had been so moved by Pat's generosity and help with the bus‑stop that he decided to dial back on the rivalry and was wanting to take things to the next level.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.3 [4/4] 6.51

This was the motivation behind his seemingly off-the-cuff "Have you eaten?" at Ep.3 [4/4] 7.20 – he was wanting to interact with Pat socially instead of as a competitor (see this write-up linked here for more analysis). Before this, the only other time we'd seen them at a meal together was at the wonton noodle stall (Ep.3 [1I4] 6.20), and it only happened by accident (and Pat soon turned it into a chopstick battle anyway) so I like to think Pran was wanting a romantic do-over in Ep.3 [4/4] by asking Pat out for a meal.

But there in the corridor Pat only seemed to want more of their usual relationship dynamic (more gameplay), and he signaled this with another of his bait-and-switch moves, lulling Pran with the return of his guitar and then saying "I just like to see your face… when you lose."

Here on the rooftop the tables have turned. In the corridor of Ep.3 [4/4] Pran was left resigned with Pat's unchanging focus on their rivalry (and yet maybe still relieved that they could continue their relationship, even if it was based on competition). But on the rooftop it's now Pat – all ready to bare his soul – who is thwarted and exasperated by Pran instead.

During the fight scene we already saw Pat getting annoyed at Pran (who was operating in their default mode of pretending to be bitter enemies). And he retaliated with a refusal to play along, turning snarky when Pran said "Why? Is it so hard to accept defeat?" at Ep.5 [4/4] 2.41. Pat's snide response "Defeated by that lousy song. Why would I feel anything?" landed like a slap too (though Pran couldn't have felt it, unlike Pat and us viewers who knew the truth behind his sarcasm). Because of course Pat had his heart torn to shreds when he finally understood that the song Just Friend? was really about Pran's unrequited love for him, and was now speaking to his feelings for Pran in return.

So on the rooftop Pat – perhaps annoyed at having to delay the confessing of his own truths – calls out the double-sidedness of Pran's comment and laces his response with more sarcasm and layers of unspoken meaning. His skewed, sardonic smile when he says "That's right" is a mix of sadness and derision, a colloid of contrasts ironically just like the relationship that they've always known – a forced mix of enmity and friendship, a combination of two opposites that will never truly meld.

If we're being generous, it's possible to read that Pran intended his "We're not even friends" to mean something like they're not allowed to be friends in the fullest sense of the word, in front of society and the world at large, even though they were always friends behind the scenes. But what Pat does is to take the literal meaning of this and flip it on its head.

They're both aware that their illicit friendship exists, but it's a friendship that dare not speak its name because of outside disapprobation. Pat's answer in the affirmative also snorts cynically, not just at Pran's surface denial, but also at their pitiless circumstances that don't allow them ever to be seen in front of others as anything besides bitter rivals.

And this is why he goes on to list why others might think they're not friends – in spite of the fact that (for all intents and purposes, except for how their relationship is presented to the world) – they actually are:

"How can we be friends when our parents despise one another?"

"How can we be friends if we live next door to each other yet can't even talk?"

"How can we be friends if we have to compete against one another in everything?"

But just like his sarcastic "That's right" and the cynicism of his mirthless smile, his words here are rhetorical, and are meant to highlight the opposite of what they seem to be saying – because his list is only made up of obstacles to friendship, but not reasons for enmity.

Their parents' mutual hostility, the ban on communicating with the boy next door, the enforced competition – these were constraints imposed on their friendship, but in themselves are no foundation or justification for any kind of animosity between them. And early on, little Pat and Pran found ways to get around the barriers and become firm friends in all but name, because there was never any justifiable reason for them not to be so.

Pat is calling Pran out here; he's telling Pran that he's just repeating what they'd been told since childhood, but the two of them, despite having drifted apart after Pran was sent away – they know better. And he's also calling for an end to the verbal gameplaying, and for them to face their truths.

Because after each rhetorical question is the silent, unspoken answer that BOTH know to be true:

"How can we be friends when our parents despise one another?" "But we ARE friends…"

"How can we be friends if we live next door to each other yet can't even talk?" "But we found a way around it…"

"How can we be friends if we have to compete against one another in everything?" "The competition was never a barrier to us ACTUALLY becoming friends…"

He's using rhetoric and sarcasm to illustrate that they weren't allowed to be friends and they've been conditioned not to call themselves that – but it doesn't change the truth about their friendship.

And I think Pran hears him loud and clear – despite what the world's been telling them all their lives, they are close and they have been friends, which is why there's a discernible softening on Pran's part.

I think Ohm did a fantastic job in Ep.5, heaving onto his shoulders the weighty stone that was also BBS's glowing heart, when it was Nanon doing all the heavy emotional lifting in the first four episodes. You can see what Pat is going through – but just in case you want further insight regarding his inner turmoil, BBS actually lets us in on a little more info.

Pat's audition as Riam in Ep.7 [4/4] 5.26 was also a play-by-play repetition of the Ep.5 rooftop scene, but Pat/Riam verbalizes his feelings a bit more directly, and adds further dimension to our understanding of Pat's motivations while on the rooftop.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [4/4] 5.26

Using Riam's voice, what he says in Ep.7 [4/4] cuts out all of his previous rhetoric, and instead speaks plainly of his weariness with the gameplay and of his willingness to give it up (repudiating his playful corridor self of Ep.3 [4/4]):

"I’m tired. Tired of pretending to hate you while your face has taken over my heart. Aren’t you tired too?... Let’s stop it. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I don’t want to lie to people anymore. You asked if I still wanted us to be friends. What if my answer is no? What do you say?"

Part of why Ep.5's rooftop scene hits so hard is not just because Pran walking away embodies the loss of a romantic story that could have been. It hits also because we see just how far battle-weary Pat has come, on a rollercoaster journey of grappling with emotions (over the course of just one episode) that Pran had taken years to integrate as part of his reality.

The loss is all the greater because we see how much it cost them to get to this point. For Pat it meant dismantling his worldview and lifelong sense of self as Pran's rival in every respect – and yet he was willing to cast it all aside, after recognizing the truth underlying his closeness to Pran.

As BBS is also an allegory for the lives of queer people, all the rumination around "friends who are not friends" here (also calling out to Pat's favorite among all of Pran's personally-scented tees) parallels how closeted LGBTQ+ relationships are often not allowed to speak their truth to wider society.

But while the allegorical message may speak to us intellectually, I think it gets drowned out by the molten magma at the searing core of this scene on the rooftop, which communicates directly – deafeningly – with the heart. All intellectual preoccupations aside, it's also just two young, would-be lovers stumbling through a conversation where so much is unknown and so much has yet to be said, trying to find the truth of their relationship in the maze of all the semantics – which is what many of us who have had to navigate young love must have experienced at some point.

Some of us get beyond the maze and fall into the truth behind the words straightaway. Others, like Pat and Pran, will have to take a little longer to get there. But as they ultimately demonstrate, it's always worth the journey when your erstwhile "friend" (or "enemy") turns out to be your soulmate instead. 💖

[jekyll-doodles]

What would a reunion between the human lords even look like? Relief, tension, just a lot of confusion?

A happy, tearful reunion for the most part. But after undergoing the requirements needed to exchange for their humanity back? Those poor souls are definitely unconscious when staff checks in on them.

After a few days, after having been moved to more a hospitable hospital room, then they awaken. It's disorienting for certain. Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar room, in what entirely seems to be Your Human Body again. Almost like everything was thankfully just a long nightmare. Except, the masks are still there. And the moment that registers, that feeling of porcelain, they know. It's differently difficult for each. 

Citrinitas would have stirred first. And although the horrors and tragedies weighed heavily, the confusion of the current situation take priority– the safety of his friends and partner are more important than his own exhaustion. So despite communication being a challenge, the staff speaking a language he's only vaguely familiar with, he eventually manages to get the gist of the situation. Allows himself to relax a little after, quietly taking in the room around him. It's strange. However, the small accents of colors he hasn't seen in… a while, assure him that it is definitely not Alagadda anymore. Not Alagadda. He touches the mask on his face. The vile, wretched thing. It infuriated him and fed off that anger, but now controlled him no more. Removing it calmly, he would politely ask a nurse to dispose of it.

Albedo deals with a more paralysing sensation. It had been so long since they had felt... anything really, that the emotional turmoil and physical toll was crushing her. And that mask, the horrid thing that barely allowed her to see, was choking her. Or maybe it was the mounting despair and inability to move that made it hard to breathe. For so long, they had been molded into a solitary standing pillar, unaffected by anything. Never allowed to rely on anyone, for all were inferior to the white lord... So, she calls out for help. A raspy, trembling call for help. Again and again. Until he's there, concerned and reassuring. Their respected colleague, their beloved. He gently removes the mask, and it's as if she can finally breathe again. He holds her as she openly sobs about what happened, what they had done... when things calm again, Citrinitas explains what he knows of the situation.

Foundation staff are reasonable a little hesitant to let Nigredo see them. Especially since they don't understand how it (them suddenly becoming human) happened. But by the time they finally decide to let him visit his friends, he's already found his way to them. Already in the throws of a stuttering conversation and apologies and tears; to the point that it's starting to affect the nearby staff. Thankfully the two older lords seem to know how to handle him: they're patient and soothing, even if they're also crying. Eventually settling down and discussing the situation they're in. So many questions. Nigredo can't explain everything right now, but he assures them they are safe from the ambassador here. He'll have to explain the... other dangers later. After some hours catching up, and hoping that Rubedo too would wake soon, Nigredo suggest they step out for a moment, if they're well enough to. Go for a little walk around the facility to stretch their legs. Both think it is a fine idea, so long as they are not gone long. None of them wish to leave Rubedo alone too long.

While convincing the staff to let him guide them around is Difficult, they buckle eventually. Nigredo is already followed by two armed guards, and the other two are too fatigued to do anything but walk for a bit. That and with him around, they'll have a decent translator.

Which leaves Rubedo... No one is certain what happened when he awoke. Some accounts recall he had apparently, suddenly, staggered out of bed, only to then crumble and get sick on the floor. A nurse tried to help him up and away from the concerningly red vomit, when...Something happened. Something that caused several staff to be hospitalized. Something that justified restraining him and the use of heavy sedatives. The foundation noted that unlike Nigredo's anguished auras that engulfed people like a dense fog, Rubedo's outbursts were like a shockwave of intense mania and sickening euphoria. A real hazard when it seemed to be on a hair-trigger.

Its a few days before the other lords are allowed to see him; Albedo and Citrinitas were moved into living quarters next to Nigredo's. And even when they are finally allowed to visit him, they're instructed to not make any physical contact. Physical touch would be the first and most notable of his triggers. Its concerning, but... knowing what the red lord was like... The thought that the Ambassador may have completely shattered him is briefly discussed, and then firmly denied. Citrinitas is steadfast in his belief that Rubedo just needs time and care. So they will be patient. And careful.

Its concerning how... fine he seems. He says he's alright -- exhausted but ok-- and even makes a small joke about the strange room. But they know he's not. Just putting on a brave face, as it were. They all have immense guilt for what they have done. And while they do understand it was not Them but the wicked Ambassador pulling their strings, they still feel responsible to some degree. Especially Rubedo. The man is drowning in his guilt. It roots itself to his past regrets. Failures he had no control over. How can his friends stand to look at him? He can't even look at himself without feeling a twinge of nausea. So, his mask stays for while longer. Another trigger, the foudation noted: when anyone, even himself, tried to remove it, it would cause him intense agitation and nausea. So for now, it stays on.

For now, they discuss what happened tactfully. Helping each other with managing their triggers and worries. For now, they are alive and safe and together, taking recovery one step at a time.

[found-wings]

see like a dumbass I thought I could handle the angst but the SECOND you added phil begging Specifically for fit, forever, or etoiles is when I went nope nope can't do this anymore- calling out for the people who were always there for him in his worst times in the island. especially for someone like phil who canonically bottles up all his emotions and let's everything fester without wanting help from anyone else; calling to his friends for comfort. it'd hurt even more if after one of these trips, even if he can barely remember what's happened as he stumbles out the federation-sanctioned building, the first thing he does is check who's around and to warp to their waystone for help. if it had been a normal day, he'd isolate at home and tough out this pain himself, but just this once he lets himself have this, have a single moment of indulgence where he allows himself to find someone for comfort. whether that be going straight to forevers megabase for safety in the home's owner and his many basements and reinforced bunkers, going to etoiles half-built house with the hope that he'll be in there in between explorations in search for protection against any workers who may decide that they weren't finished yet, or to fit's base for the man's familiarity and connection with someone he trusted with his life and family before the children had been ripped from his grasp.

(haha point and laugh at the man who is often seen as more of a loner having FRIENDS and BESTIES and FAMILY and CONNECTIONS HA LAUGHING AND POINTING this is me coping with him supressing his emotions in canon GO TO YOUR FRIENDS FOR HELP‼️‼️) - 💿

I WILL PROJECTILE SOB AT YOU AND MYSELF, SCREEEE (coping)

He needs to learn it’s okay to indulge in the safety of your friends and family!!!! I will rattle this man to let himself be vulnerable to his besties sooner than later!! And breaking down & cracking when it all is too much!!!

( Phil in this au pains me so much and I‘m the reason for the pain. But I can‘t stop AJKAJA )

Gods just imagine Phil finally letting himself indulge in that safety and comfort instead of letting it build up. Instead of going back to his own abandoned home, instead of isolating himself until he cracks and attempts to go back so they others need to stop him - he goes.

He goes and warps to the home of one of his friends, looking and quietly hoping for them to be home right now and as soon as he gets close - let himself stumble into the arms of his friends.

He doesn‘t want to go back to an empty house again, he just wants to feel safe for at least a little while in the arms of his friends. Whether that means searching for that familiarity of Fit, the protection of Etoiles or the soothing safety of Forever.

On an extra note :

Y’know the mention of the room for Phil? Similar to how the whole Egg Hotel works but for Phil.

Imagine Phil asking for people like Fit, Forever, eventually Missa, Tubbo and Etoiles, etc. to help him decorate it. He knows the others can‘t constantly be there for him and he needs to start managing himself somehow, so the next best thing for him is creating his own safespace - taking what he felt like was a prison and adding things that reminds him of his closest people. Making it feel lived in, feel like a shared home.

Time to go pass out AJAJJA

[jiisbons]

wherever i go, you bring me home

pairing: hotchniss

summary: emily calls for aaron in her sleep, bringing out feelings he can't ignore.

word count: 1k-2k

He's always been a light sleeper.

He doesn't get much sleep anyway, but when he does he can still hear the world around him, most of his senses still wide awake. He'd be lucky if he got more than three hours of good sleep.

So when a light knock sounds on the door of his hotel room, his eyes immediately blink open to the darkness. His brows furrow in confusion as he shoves the covers off of him and sits up, the soles of his bare feet hitting the soft carpet.

He crosses the room and opens the door to a sleepy JJ, her blonde hair frazzled and her eyelids droopy. One of his eyebrows quirks. "JJ?"

She runs a hand through her messy hair. "Emily has been calling for you in her sleep."

Emily? He frowns. "Why?"

JJ shrugs. "I don't know, but she's keeping me awake, so I decided to just come here and tell you.

He's beyond confused. Why would Emily be calling for him out of all people?

"Okay," he says slowly, "would you like to switch rooms?"

She expels a sigh of relief. "Yes, please. I love Em, but she's driving me crazy."

Aaron nods. "Okay. You can take my room."

"Thanks." JJ slips inside, sending him a grateful smile. He nods again and starts down the hallway for Emily's room, his stomach twisting. What is he supposed to do? Get in bed with her? Wake her up and tell her that she's been calling his name? Maybe she's having a nightmare and needs someone to comfort her, but if that's the case he's certainly not the right person for the job. He can barely comfort Jack when he's upset.

He gently creaks the door open, his eyes finding Emily curled up on the bed, murmuring softly to herself in the dark. He feels his chest clench at the sight. She looks so innocent, so cute, for lack of a better word. He quickly reprimands himself for even thinking such a thing about his subordinate.

Without knowing what else to do, he quietly slips into her bed, careful not to wake her or get too close. He can hear her murmurs clearly now. She snuggles deeper into the blanket, softly repeating his name over and over again like a mantra.

"Hotch." She shifts a little, as if seeking for him. "Aaron," she mumbles.

A weird feeling pools in the pit of his stomach as she continues to say his name in her sleep. She's never called him Aaron before, no one really does, it's always just been Hotch. But hearing his first name on her lips makes his insides fill with warmth.

Slowly, carefully, he slips beneath the blankets and positions his head on a pillow, watching her with soft eyes. He's always cared about her a little more than the others, even though she hasn't been on the team as long as everyone else. There's just something about her that makes him want to protect her from the world.

"Aaron," she whimpers again, and this time it's as if she knows he's here with her because she shifts closer to him, her small hands grasping at the air for him.

He knows he shouldn't, knows he should still remain professional in this situation, but his emotions take over and he allows her hand to find him. She immediately scoots into his body, her mind still in a deep sleep, her hands curling into fists as they rest against his chest.

Without him realizing, a soft smile graces his lips as she cuddles into him. He likes this. Likes the way she feels against him. Likes someone asking for him, wanting him to be close to them.

But he especially likes that it's her. And in the morning he'll view it as a problem, when he sneaks out of her room and switches with JJ again, but for now, as he watches her serene face, he can't bring himself to care.

XxX

It happens again a few weeks later on the jet.

They're returning to Quantico from a case that's pushed them all into exhaustion, and Emily has already fallen asleep in the seat next to him. None of the others are to the point of succumbing to sleep yet, but Aaron doubts they'd sleep anyway with what Emily is mumbling.

"Aaron." It's barely audible, but Aaron hears it perfectly.

Reid quickly perks up from his seat across from her. "Did she just say Aaron?"

Everyone's eyes are on him now. He feels the heat of their stares, the questions brewing in their eyes, and he wishes Emily would suddenly wake up and explain to them all why she's been murmuring his name in her sleep.

Because truthfully, he can't think of a damn reason why.

"Aaron," she sighs, curling into her seat. Aaron shuts his eyes, willing everyone around him to disappear.

Morgan sits up, his headphones locked around his neck. "Okay, I'm very confused right now. Why is she calling for boss?"

"Usually when a person is calling for someone in their sleep, it means they feel that person in their safe place," Reid informs them all casually.

Before anyone can reply to that, the jet comes to a halt and the entry door opens. They all scramble to their feet, but Emily remains asleep, unaware of anything around her.

Aaron sighs and goes to wake her. "Prentiss. Prentiss, it's time to go."

She groans softly, eyes refusing to open. "Want Aaron," she mumbles.

The same weird feeling from before creeps in on him, but he quickly pushes it away before he can analyze it. "I'm here," he tells her. "We have to get off the jet now."

Her eyes slowly flutter open, but he can tell she's still half asleep. He chuckles at her confused look before he can stop himself and helps her out of her seat.

"I'm sleepy," she tells him as they exit the jet, looking like a child who's been waken up too early.

"I know you are," he responds gently. "Do you want me to take you home?"

He has no idea where the offer came from. It just left his mouth before he could even think. But she smiles up at him and suddenly he becomes glad he asked.

XxX

They're in his car, and the urge to ask her about it is strong, but he doesn't know how to approach the subject without embarrassing her. She doesn't have a clue that she's been calling for him every time she's asleep. Maybe it would be better if he just left it alone.

But curiosity gnaws at him and he can't hold himself back any longer.

Clearing his throat, he says, "Prentiss?"

Her head turns away from the window to face him. "Hm?"

He decides to dive straight in. "When we were on the jet, you were kind of...talking in your sleep."

Her eyes widen in horror. "Oh, God. What was I saying? Did I say something bad?"

"It wasn't anything bad," he assures her. "And it wasn't really talking in sentences. You were just saying something over and over. Well, calling for someone, I should say."

She bites her lower lip, then releases it. "Who was I calling for?"

He keeps his eyes on the road, his fingers tightening on the wheel. "Me."

Silence fills the car and he wishes he would've just kept quiet. He opens his mouth to apologize, but she beats him to it.

"I'm sorry," she says, shifting in her seat anxiously. "I didn't know I was doing that. I didn't mean to, I swear. Please don't fire me."

A laugh escapes him without meaning to and she stares at him in confusion. "I'm sorry," he rushes to correct his behavior, shaking his head. "I don't mean to laugh. I just...why would I fire you for that?"

"Because it's unprofessional?" Her brown eyes are still wide, like doe-eyes, and he clenches the steering wheel even tighter to steady himself.

"It's fine, Prentiss. Really. I just thought I should let you know in case the team brings it up tomorrow."

Her eyes are nearly bulging out of their sockets now. "The team heard?"

"Well, it was on the jet, so yes, they heard."

"Oh, God."

"They'll most likely forget about it in a few days," he tries to reassure her. "They'll find something else to obsess over. It's fine. I promise."

She doesn't reply, but she gifts him with a small smile, a smile that makes him feel things he knows he shouldn't. Emily is his subordinate, a friend only. He shouldn't be wondering what it would be like to kiss her plump lips or take her hand in his. He definitely shouldn't want to offer to come inside with her, to help her sleep because now he knows she won't be able to sleep without him.

He shouldn't want anything with her. But he does.

He reaches her place and parks the car, his ass rooted to the seat. He isn't going to get out. He's going to watch her walk inside and force himself to forget about everything that's happened.

But she doesn't get out yet. Instead she looks at him, bites her lip, then smiles shyly. "Would you like to come inside?"

He tries to ignore the pounding of his heart inside his chest. "That would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?"

"It's not unprofessional to make my boss some coffee for the road."

"I'm not a big fan of coffee," he rasps, eyes darting from hers to her lips.

"What are you a fan of, then?"

The word goes unsaid.

"Tea," he says eventually, still lost in the beauty that were her eyes. "I'll take some tea, if you have it."

"I have tea." She slips out of the car, not waiting for him to follow, but he does because he's either an idiot or the smartest person alive.

And when he walks in behind her, he can't help but think this may be the start of something beautiful.

[ktkat99]

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 11. Hanging (By A Thread)

TW: Depression and loss of apatite.

"It feels like breathing is a chore. Like something you have to do. Like something you should be able to do on your own, but you just keep forgetting. You… you feel like you're walking, trying to just keep moving forwards, but with every step, someones adding more and more weight. But you know you can't stop. You're not allowed. Because everyone always says that if you just keep going, it will all get better. And so all your focus is on just… moving. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. But it keeps getting harder and harder. And then sometimes you wake up and realize you've been so focused on just moving that you've blocked out literally everything else. Your life, your friends, your family. The whole world. It's all kept moving without you. You weren't necessary."

Tim shifted and looked at his hands, leaning against Bruce's side. "It sucks." He whispered. "I know it does."

Mad Hatter had set off a device earlier that night that amplified all of Batman's most negative emotions until they overwhelmed him and left him disoriented.

"But, please, just… come back?"

Tim, having only been Robin a few months by this point, had frozen in place. He hadn't been sure what was more important at the moment, catching Mad Hatter, or helping Batman.

He'd decided to stay and help Batman.

He'd gotten him into the Batmobile.

He'd managed to drive the both of them back to the cave.

And now, hours later, he was seated on the edge of Bruce's bed, trying to talk to his mentor as the man sat, still as a statue, staring at a photo of himself and his last Robin.

"I… I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't… I don't know how to help you." Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been talking for hours, and had barely gotten any reaction.

"Jason's gone, and I can't change that. I can't fix that. And I'm sorry." He felt hot tears as they fell.

"But, if it helps at all, I'm here. I know I'm not who you want, but… at least you're not alone. I always…" Tim trailed off rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I always hate being alone."

Yyyyy

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick knocked on the open door of his father's home office.

"Hey. What's up?" Bruce greeted, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Dick leaned in the doorway, worry written all over his face. "It's Tim." He nodded down the hall. "He's not eating."

Bruce frowned. That wasn't good.

Tim had been struggling for a while lately, but a few days ago a case had gone sideways and he'd gotten a nasty dose of Fear Toxin.

He'd gotten through it after about half a day, but whatever he'd been forced to see…

"I'm sure he'll eat when he's hungry. Why don't you leave the plate on his nightstand?" At least, Bruce hoped he would.

After waking up, Tim hadn't spoken to any of them beyond a few hoarse whispers about being tired and just wanting to sleep.

They'd helped him upstairs to his bed, and that's where he'd stayed.

At first, they'd all just been happy to see that he was resting and actually taking time to recover.

Then, they'd been relieved and even joked when it seemed he was taking some time to just relax and be lazy for a bit.

But now?

Now they were starting to get worried.

"I don't… Bruce, I don't think he will." Dick sighed. "I brought him dinner last night and the plates still on his nightstand. He didn't touch a damn thing."

Bruce nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do."

He made his way down the hall to Tim's room and knocked on the closed door.

No response.

"Buddy, it's Bruce. I'm coming in." He called.

No response.

He opened the door and walked in. The light was off and the window closed, making the room dark enough that his eyes had to adjust.

Dirty clothes lay all over the floor, dropped and left where they'd fallen.

His desk held a closed laptop and several stacks of papers and files, all stamped with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo.

The skateboard he used to ride everywhere was leaned against the wall, coated in a visible layer of dust.

And the small lump under the blankets on the bed hadn't so much as twitched since he'd walked in.

Bruce walked closer, seeing that Dick had been right. The plate they'd made for Tim the night before hadn't been touched. Balanced beside it, hanging over the edge of the nightstand, was a bowl of oatmeal.

Dick had sliced a peach into it, the way Tim loved.

He hadn't even taken a bite.

"Tim." Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Are you awake?"

No response.

"Can I get you anything?"

No response.

"Do you want something else to eat?"

It was starting to feel like Bruce was talking to a wall.

Sighing, feeling helpless to protect his child from this invisible foe, Bruce gently set his hand on Tim's shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't know what you need."

He, again, didn't get a response.

"I don't know what you saw. I don't know what you went through, or if that's even what triggered this."

Bruce reached out with his other hand and felt the bowl of oatmeal. It was room temperature, and starting to dry out.

How long had Dick sat here trying to get his brother to eat something?

"Please, let me help."

He begged softly.

"Please tell me what I can do."

Tim still offered no response. Bruce would almost have thought he was asleep if it weren't for the fact that he could see that Tim's eyes were open. He was staring blankly at the wall, back facing his father.

"You told me once… what it felt like. When you got like this."

Tim blinked.

"You said that it felt like the world and everyone in it just kept moving without you."

Bruce gave Tim's arm a firm squeeze.

"Tim, I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his forehead on Tim's shoulder.

"Not without you. Because you're my son, and I love you."

Tim's next exhale was shaky.

"I don't care how long it takes. Just, please. Come back to me? I-,"

Bruce trailed off when Tim shifted ever so slightly.

He reached up and grabbed the hand that was still resting on his arm, squeezing it tight.

His hand was shaking, but Bruce chose to focus on the fact that he was moving at all.

"I'm here, Tim." He whispered. "I promise, I'm here."

Tim gently tugged the hand, and Bruce let him move it.

He pulled it to his chest and hugged it tight with both arms like a child afraid to lose their security blanket.

And then he broke.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he ducked his head and curled up into a ball, still desperately clinging to Bruce's arm.

Heart breaking, Bruce wrapped his other arm under Tim's body and hauled him upright, pulling him into his lap.

Tim let himself be moved, but his grip didn't waver.

His entire body shook with sobs, which quickly dampened Bruce's shirt.

Neither of them cared.

"I'm here, son. I'm here. I've got you."

If Tim heard what Bruce was whispering, he gave no sign.

[safetycar-restart]

charles clueless puppy dog eyes… always a critical hit on the heart 💔

he is absolutely a proud member of that club hehe not only is he ridiculously affectionate n touchy, he also just can’t get enough of your attention like the spoiled lil princess he is <3 he needs every part of you to be completely focused on him so he can bask in the way you praise him, watch him, and touch him all at once

charles not only having to get himself off on his own, but having to do it without any physical contact at all… oh he’d be a goner for sure. poor baby whines abt how mean you are and can barely get two rocks of his hips in before his voice breaks and tears of frustration spill over his big sweet eyes. and calling him a pretty crier… please that’d be the best way to get that adorable look of confusion on his face bc he doesn’t know whether to cry harder or eat up your praise…and kissing his tears away on top of that might just make him cum right then and there 🥰 suddenly it’s so easy whenever you get involved

This is the absolute PERFECT way to start off soft night oh my god I love it so much. Also remember lads, we have a crybaby!Charles tag now. We need more crybaby content, for all the drivers actually! Where's my crybaby George and crybaby bezz and crybaby fabio and crybaby Oscar and crybaby Esteban? WHERE?

Anyway, on to the actual point:

Firstly, Charles requires all your attention all the time. He can't help it, just can't get enough. He's not too bad when there are other people around, as long as he knows he'll get to have your full attention later and as long as he can always come to cuddles or handholding.

(There's no way you guys can keep your relationship a secret for that very reason, he can't be around others if he can't hold your hand! He must hold your hand! MUST!)

But when it's just the two of you? He must have your full attention cause he's your baby boy and you're his mommy! How dare you focus on literally anything else?

He understands you wanting to do something else, like reading or watching something or doing some work or even showering, but he wants to be involved! He wants to sit with you. He'll happily do his own thing in the same room as you as long as he can see you and knows he can always ask his mommy for a kiss or cuddle.

(Which he does all the time by the way, he'll be scrolling on his phone next to you and then just suddenly turn his phone off and request a forehead kiss which of course he will always get)

And of course he needs time where he's your soul focus. He'll get so sad and confused if you go too long without giving him all your attention, because you're his mommy! He needs his mommy!!

So you always make sure do give him what he needs.

And yeah, it's borderline cruel to make him touch himself while you watch. Because you touch his cock so much better!! How could you make him touch his own cock? Noooo that's not fair!!

He's crying pretty much instantly, cause he's already feeling so subby and needy and now he must touch his own cock. He only gets a few strokes before he loses his rhythm, so overwhelmed and wrecked because it feels so good and he can hear your voice but you aren't touching him and he's crying and he's so confused.

This is exactly where you wanted him of course, because you know that by the end of this there won't be a single thought in his pretty little head, that he'll spend the rest of the evening cuddling against your chest and crying softly, getting all his emotions out and being your good boy.

[grimalkinmessor]

I adore time travel AUs to bits and yours sounds very interesting! So L's realisation about his monstrosity is a slow descent, but how self aware is he once Light is no longer a child? Does he act on his intentions the moment he realises they exist with no remorse and the shame comes in later? Or does the shame stem from the fact he knows how f*cked up everything he's done is and still doesn't care, not really, not enough to stop?

And speaking about his relationship with Light. He "ingratiates" himself to this new version of him, but does he ever have to stop himself from throwing his unresolved frustrations towards the Old Light at the child? I imagine so, especially at first. He barely restrain himself from being the petty creature he is and at times maybe even doesn't and takes out on Light is subtle ways that can't be traced back to him.

Still, I think L would eventually start to miss the old, antagonistic Light. Adoration and peace are all well and good, but he'd received those before and responded with boredom, nonchalance or neutrality at best. Despite the supernatural task he was given, would L stir the pot to make Light the beast from his nightmare again simply because he misses his teeth? Or could Light develop into it even with all of his influnce?

God, if Light were to find out L is responsible for his family's murder...

Oh no, L has always known he's a monster! He's never denied it! :D He already knows that he's not the moral paragon that the Wammy Kids and the world sees him as—the descent here, the realization, comes from him knowing he's a monster, but subconsciously thinking that he's a smaller one than Light. Light killed him after all, so he'd definitely be the worst monster, right? Wrong :3 L realizes that what he's doing is worse than anything Light ever did on a moral level, but on their level? The game level? Light killed him. Light killed Watari. L only killed Light's family, he hasn't killed Light himself, so he hasn't technically sunk to Light's level in his mind.

It's only later, when Light is fully ingratiated to him, that L starts to recognize that what he's done....might be worse after all. Not that it causes him much moral distress tbh—it's just a fact he's uncomfortable facing because now he feels like he might've fucked up the game. He's got what he truly wants though, and he wouldn't really regret it either.

As for if L takes out his anger on Light: no. For multiple reasons. The first of which is that by the time he sees Light in person again it's been literal years since he first came back to the past, which has watered down his fury to sorrowful annoyance and only heightened his obsession. The second of which is that L knows he can't do anything like that to Light while he's grooming endearing himself to him; Light is smart and newly traumatized and wary, if L started hurting him (even indirectly), Light would notice and immediately clock him as a threat. Which is literally exactly what L wants to avoid.

Besides, by that time L is happy to see him ^^ A little Kira is very interesting indeed, and L has missed his perfect match more than expected to. He's still gonna psychologically fuck him up though. Them's the breaks.

As for whether L would miss the "Old" Light....yes and no. He doesn't really see the "Old" Light and the "Newer" Light as separate people; both of them are still Light, almost in his entirety. Old Light had a Death Note, and Baby Light hasn't yet reached his threshold of apathy :3 That's all. Little Light is still a manipulative genius, full of ego and spite—he just has some trauma now that has led him to circulate all of his turbulent emotions around the people he finds interesting, instead of just shoving them down and pretending they don't exist until they really don't :) Little Light is not bored of the world yet. He's not bored of emotions and love, and now he'll never find them tedious, because L ripped that away from him by killing his family :) He'll always be petty and arrogant and vicious, but now he's more open emotionally than he would've been otherwise.

Speaking of Light's family! L never gets caught out for that! Because one of the first big things L does to endear himself to Light is help Light catch the arsonist that caused the fire—by planting evidence and false trails to lead Light right to the patsy he set up to take the fall for it ^^

From there, once revenge has been had, Light's family kind of,,,,fades from his mind. L has made himself a very big figure in Light's life, essentially replacing his family as the person Light is most frightened to lose and most willing to listen to, and every reminder of the Yagami family gets erased so that L can more effectively do that. Light is only six when he first comes to Wammy's after all; memories fade quick when you're that small :') So if he found out later, as an adult, it would've been long enough that he wouldn't really care.

This whole AU is essentially just. A yandere Light being raised to be exactly that by an equally if not more so yandere L.

So. When Light is once again in the form L remembers him in (seventeen year old body with a wicked wicked mind that makes even death gods wary) I very much think he'd make a move. By that point Light has been in love with him for years, so as soon as L feels any sort of reciprocation they'd get together faster than you could blink. No hesitation.

...Save for maybe A trying to stall him.

[ash-imagines]

Hi I don’t usually rq, hopefully you’re not too overwhelmed atm! I was hoping for a Osomatsu rq, (if you don’t wanna do all six, you can just do the four eldest). This one’s pretty sad, so feel free to ignore if that’s not your jam.

Basically their s/o is a foreigner and their family is all the way back in America, in order for this to make sense lol.

Their s/o hasn’t been acting theirselves today, they’re acting weird? They’re trying to keep themselves busy and occupied at all times with something, like they’re distracting themselves from something. Anytime they’re asked about it, they say that they’re fine and that there’s nothing wrong! Eventually though, that night they have a long talk about it and they admit that it’s their fathers death anniversary and usually they’re there with their mom picking out flowers and stuff but they .. can’t because they’re far from their family. Maybe just a moment where the matsu brother offers to pick out flowers with them?

( sorry this is so long eeee !! Again u can ignore if this is a bit much!)

Osomatsu - Aw, you could've said so earlier, he would've understood! Well, just because you're not in the states at the moment doesn't mean you can't have a little ceremony or something. If you wanna get flowers, he'd be happy to tag along. Whatever would help you feel better, he's down to join you, and he's surprisingly adept at helping you grieve. Granted, it's been a few years now since your father's passing, but Osomatsu just has a way of keeping the mood light. Sure, it's still sad, but at least your dorky NEET boyfriend is there with beer and kind words, right? He's like a life jacket, helping you float to shore through violent ocean waves.

Karamatsu - Kara is a lot more open to the stronger emotions you might be feeling than Oso, because he's never been the sort of guy to hide what he's feeling and because he's incredibly sensitive. So if you need to cry or vent your frustrations, by all means do so. Honestly, he'll grab the flowers for you if that'd help at all. Undoubtedly this is a tough moment for you, and anything he might be able to do to alleviate the strain it's putting on your precious heart would be the least he could do. Also you're definitely getting something to eat with him later because food just makes everything better.

Choromatsu - After hounding you so hard to tell him what's on your mind he feels like a huge jackass. Let him make it up to you with a quick trip to the florist's. Even if he wasn't trying to make up for his shitty reaction, though, he's very respectful when it comes to the dead. It's almost a little scary how solemn and reverent he can be, but only because it's a side of him you haven't really seen before.

Ichimatsu - Ah. He's never really been the best at handling situations where other people are sad. It's very awkward. He can barely manage his own feelings without help, so being supportive when it comes to another person's feelings is... kinda tough. But he's dealt with many devastating feline funerals over the years, and he knows that the pain doesn't really ever leave, you just make room for it inside. So getting flowers with you is hardly a big deal, and anything else you might wanna take care of is fine too. Anything that makes a little more room for your grief, anything that helps you honor those memories.

[kasperbunny]

3 for all your ships!! Aand 6,9 13 and 14 for anyone you want :)

oh god hi hello. putting this under a read more bc it got long

What would their song to each other be?

i dont have an answer for ALL my ships but, heres just a few. and these are more like...songs that describe their dynamic or make me think of them if that makes sense!

danse/art - put your head on my shoulder by paul anka. this song isnt necessarily fitting to their dynamic, but...i always come back to this song bc it makes me think of the soft, more calm and sweet moments between these two. i can picture them listening to it and slow dancing clumsily together, whether theyre a lil drunk or completely sober i dont know, but it always puts that image in my head and makes me happy.

shane/elfie - froot by marina. listen. this song is just straight up longing/horny from elfie's pov and i love it. this song is just fun and i like thinking about how BADLY she wants this dumb lil guy. thats her man and shes gonna TAKE him. also this song slaps.

shane/me - loser by charlie puth. UGH THIS SONG. THIS SONG. i feel so self indulgent when i listen to this song. thinking about shane longing for me and wanting me when im with my other f/os. his jealousy and anger and self loathing is just in hyper drive when he sees me with danse or arthur or whoever. i love torturing my husband <3

What small quirks do they love about each other?

i'll do this for shane/elfie. hmm...shane likes how emotive elfie is sometimes. she plays with her hair when shes nervous, she talks with her hands, she wiggles/wags her tail when shes excited or curious.

i...am blanking on any little quirks shane has im so sorry.

How did they know they were right for each other?

can i answer this for danse/me!!!! because like. god. i remember before i played fo4 i would watch my bf play it and he had danse as his companion a lot and. i just started watching him play more and more bc i started to feel IMMEDIATELY safe and protected by danse. my crush on him was instant. i started thinking about danse more and more. i barely even knew him yet but i felt so infatuated and longed for him. it just felt good right away, and i knew he was right for me. my love for him is unconditional and i hope he feels safe around me too. im sure thats how he knows im right too, he doesnt have to be or do anything different, he can just be himself and i'll love him regardless. even if hes a shit head sometimes <3

How do they express their feelings (Words, visual art, a song, etc.)?

answering for danse/art. neither of them are very good with words. danse is a very "acts of service" type of person. if art has a piece of equipment or something that needs fixing, danse already has it jotted down in his head to fix it later. art doesnt even have to ask, danse is already on it and tinkering with art's gun or armor or whatever.

meanwhile, art is very touchy if hes close with someone. he used to be better with expressing his feelings thru words, but it got hard after everything he went thru. so he sometimes just touches danse on his shoulder, his arm, his back, or holds his hand when he needs attention. danse had to get used to being touched all the time, but now he picks up on when art needs something or is trying to express something because he'll just give danse little touches or stand/sit close enough that theyre touching in some way.

Where would they go on a 3am adventure?

this screams shane/elfie. elfie calls shane at 3 am asking if he wants to come over. hes like elfie, its 3 am, why. she says she misses him and she wants to see him. he absolutely cannot say no to her so hes throwing on his sweats and jacket and booking it to her farm. i think theyd just chill together, so not really...much of an adventure. but i can also see her calling him up being like "wanna go explore that cave on my farm? :)" and hes like. what the fuck, but okay.

[anondudeao3]

(Also, since I'm sharing random bits of creativity haha)

Please enjoy this prologue from a WIP

Disclaimer: this is simply because I cannot contain myself and I really love this and want desperately to share it haha. Do not be fooled into believing this is an indication the finished product may be coming soon. I truly have no idea. I have, like...over 50 WIPs for this account haha — I never know when any of them are going to be finished until it is upon me.

And...I beg of you. Stick with it, it's the end that I love so dearly, but the set up is necessary.

Jason is angry. 

Maybe it's more accurate to say Jason is anger. 

He's trying, he's really making an…effort to at least try to be more levelheaded and reasonable now that he's supposed to be a Bat again, but he's still always just filled with so much…rage. It flows under his skin, molten and burning and viscous like magma, just waiting to burst forth at the slightest opportunity, lurking there for the moment it can surge out and entomb the next unfortunate soul in his path in its inescapable, blistering clutches. 

He feels like a monster. 

He feels like his rage is an entire other being that forcibly wrestled the wheel out of his grasp, and yet he still feels he's entirely at fault for every action it takes in the driver's seat of his brain, because it's his. He wants those things, he wants to do those things, he feels those things, even if the smothered voice in the back of his head says it's wrong, that he'll regret it later (if he ever manages to take the wheel again. He wonders if that's even a possibility. It feels impossibly out of his grasp).

He's managed to achieve more of a balance lately, managed to unsmother that voice, and shove aside the rage sometimes even if he can't shove it back or down, but that means it's still always there, right there in the forefront of his mind, boiling his brain and frying all of his other emotions to ashes until only bitterness is left. 

He feels so elemental, like there's hardly anything left to make him up at all; only thin skin that barely contains a sea of magma roiling over an impenetrable wall of igneous rock around his heart, like he was almost made inside out. Isn't normal people's fire on the inside, instead of licking at the outside world through their very pores with every breath? Aren't their walls like a protective exoskeleton? Jason had failed at normal a long time ago, though, hadn't he.

There's a knock on Jason's safehouse door, and Jason fucking burns with hate at being interrupted. The little voice in his head tells him he's being unreasonable, that he's only been cleaning his weapons and allowing his thoughts to simmer through the shimmering heat-haze of his emotions that he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to get used to no matter how long he's been dealing with it. (He wonders if it's a useless endeavor to even think about trying to tune such a thing out some day. He wonders if it might even be dangerous. If his rage really is a separate entity by now, one that could maul him when he's no longer looking). 

It doesn't matter what the little voice says though, he feels it, he feels it.

It matters what the little voice says. He sets down the pistol, and goes to get the door.

Dick gives him a friendly smile and a bright, "Hey!" and Jason feels another surge of haterageresentment swell in him at the sight.

But he only says a curt, "Hi."

Dick steps forward, forcing Jason to either step back or blatantly block his entrance, inviting himself in as if it doesn't occur to him that he might not be naturally welcome in Jason's space. Like he might not just intrinsically belong here.

Jason sits with this swell of anger as well, as he shuts the door behind him while Dick makes himself quite at home on the ratty couch Jason had dragged in from an alleyway that had smelled like cigarette smoke and rotting leaves and old piss, as most Gotham alleyways are wont to, in Jason's experience. At least the sofa doesn't smell like that anymore. Mostly.

Dick still looks happy for some fucking reason, as Jason approaches him. Jason stops a good meter and a half away, still standing and now crossing his arms tightly over his chest, deciding it's probably better this way. Probably better to keep him out of striking range, out of the way of temptation, far enough that it might take more than a few seconds, at least, for any errant flows of lava to reach him.

"I'm really glad you're back, Jason," Dick says, looking unaccountably earnest, and Jason doesn't know quite what to do with that. His anger roils confusedly below the surface in choppy waves, trying to surge but continually falling back on itself as it has no idea what for. "I missed you. I'm so glad you're back with us, and I just— I feel like there's so much I did wrong before, and so much more I could have done, and I don't— I don't want to lose you again. I want— I understand if it's more…difficult and you can't jump in all at once, but I want to have the relationship we never got to have before; I want to be someone you trust this time, someone you can rely on. You're family, but that's just a word if you don't make anything of it. I want to. I want to be closer this time…if you'll let me."

Jason's insides have gone still. And he's still just as lost at sea.

"I…" Dick hesitantly adds. "I know I'm not alone either. Alfred would be absolutely over the moon to spend time with you." He pauses again. "Maybe we could…all have tea some time when Bruce isn't at the manor?"

Jason stares at him, because he doesn't know quite what else to do, and in that moment, Jason…feels something in him break. He feels like something soft and raw inside him is suddenly left exposed to the elements, and the utter vulnerability makes panic flicker through him, but Dick is still holding his gaze — eyes clear and open, and friendly smile lingering, like he means it. Like he means every bit of it. And everything about him whispers terrifying, with the way he's cracked Jason open; and everything about him whispers safe, like no matter what turns out to be underneath Jason's hard, igneous shell, he wouldn't flinch back, he would open his arms and shield him from the world himself.

"Okay," Jason manages, and Dick smiles like the sun, and Jason feels another flicker in his chest. Not fear this time though, and finally — finally — not anger or its bedmates bitterness and hatred either. Something…lighter. Softer. …Hopeful? Bright. Not the fires of rage, but a warm spring sun.

[aureatescars]

@petrokhelidon sent: "kissing the tears from their cheeks . also leon"

Sasha knows he's been quiet today, more quiet than usual, that is. He has barely spoken a word all day, and he can count on one hand how often he has responded to a question with something other than a nod or a shake of his head. He knows that Leon has noticed. By now he can read him well enough to realize something is off. He likely knew it the moment they first met eyes this morning. Sasha could sense him walking on eggshells around him from then on.

He dislikes keeping him in the dark no matter the reason, he really does, but even just the thought of attempting to explain himself feels like something impossible today. He feels fine, he tells himself, just not inclined to do much conversation and Leon respects that, which Sasha is more than thankful for.

It's not until Sasha finds himself sat on the couch later in the afternoon that he realizes he's been in denial for the better part of it. He's been attempting to continue reading a book he first picked up a few years ago but then never got to finish. The book he is holding right now is not the same one, of course. Between then and now he was forced to abandon his home, and lost most of his possessions because of it.

And so much more.

He stumbled upon the book again in a local bookstore recently and thought that now might be as good a time as any to finish it. He always enjoyed reading, after all. He likes how it quietens his mind.

He's fine.

Sasha manages to finish another chapter before his thoughts begin to wander, to spiral. He doesn't even notice at first and it takes him trying to re-read the next page two more times before the words begin to blur before his eyes entirely and he has to set the book down to rub at them. He is tired he realizes, exhausted even. His head feels equally empty and full at the same time and for a long moment he simply sits there, his gaze distant. His fingers, uncharacteristically cold, clutch the book tightly as if it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the present.

He startles when there is suddenly a hand overtop one of his own, his head turns, eyes wide and surprised as they find Leon's, looking at him with such care and concern it has his breathing hitch.

Sasha blinks. His face feels flushed, his gaze wavers, his breath shudders out of him. He watches Leon reach out to touch him with his free hand, the other still covering Sasha's own and only the distinct glide of moisture beneath his fingertips make Sasha understand why Leon has chosen now to step in.

Leon leans in further and Sasha's eyes close when his lips find first one and then the other cheek, intercepting the tears that fall steadily in a gesture so tender it makes Sasha ache all over. A small, pained and choked off sound forces itself out of his chest. It's broken and barely there for his throat constricts, he can hardly breathe.

Leon pulls him close and Sasha hasn't even properly wound his arms around him in turn before he feels his body begin to tremble with an sudden wave of grief, the tension he has felt all day unwinds at once, leaves him boneless and breathless, forced to feel once again with renewed sharpness what he thought overcome.

He turns his face into the crook of Leon's neck and holds him close, holds him tight, as if he'd disappear at any second, as if he's afraid of losing him, too.

It's been a year, but time has done nothing to dull the edges of his grief. It still hurts. It still leaves him winded, and he thinks —he fears— that he will never be without it, that it will always hurt like this, that he'll never feel anything other.

A hand burries in his hair and another begins stroking up and down his back as Sasha tries and fails to fight down his emotions, shame mingling with all he is already feeling.

It's almost more than he can handle, he can feel himself cracking under the strain of his grief and frustration, under the pain, but Leon— he makes it easier to breathe even now. Leon makes everything easier, better, less unbearable.

Sasha's fingers clutch at him, wishing he could tell him this, but words fail him as the tears keep falling, soaking into Leon's shirt.