#me? trying to take pride in my work? unheard of

[wraithlafitte]

in case my like 2 fans are wondering, the reason i haven’t posted series parts/requests (bitchin pt 2, perfect stranger, etc) in a while is because i’m taking my sweet time and putting effort into my work instead of word vomiting and posting without reading it back or editing 😇

[nonsensefromtheabyss]

Alastor Analysis

(Throwing my hat into the ring because the smiley fucker has me in a headlock. Warning; long and potentially insane. God I hope the cut works.)

I think something significant is gonna go down with Alastor in the next few episodes. I think the man is slipping.

Something that sticks out to me on rewatch is that Husk isn’t worried by the lights flickering or Alastor’s voice changing (the usual signs of him getting vicious.) He doesn’t look scared when the collar appears; his initial order of reactions actually goes ‘surprised’, ‘bitch please’, and then he starts doing damage control. It takes Alastor pulling on the chain to make him stop and actually look at how angry the overlord actually is. It says a lot to me that Husk’s first reaction is to be pissed off. He looks like he’s recognising that his bitchy demon master isn’t going to take any advice and he’s gonna be made to back off—and he’s angry about that. 

To detail, the fact that he approaches Alastor directly with his concerns and not Charlie (you know; the all-powerful, hotel owning, hell princess whose daddy’s in town), and puts the focus on him possibly getting into trouble means that Husk did all this out of a sense of concern or compassion. Husk isn’t acting purely in the interests of the hotel here, he’s trying to protect Alastor. This is a genuine offer of advice being thrown in Husk’s face for no apparent reason beyond arrogance; he has every right to be pissed off, and he is. He’s angry with Alastor and he shows that even as he’s shutting up. Angry, not scared.

Husk bitching about Alastor isn’t unusual. He cares enough to try and help the bastard out. The way he interacts with the conversation initially indicates to me that means he normally feels safe enough to do things like this. He’s comfortable calling his master out. He’s doing his best to stop Alastor making some kind of mistake. He is trusted with the information that Alastor isn’t a free man himself. When the chain appears, he’s frustrated, he cedes ground… but he isn’t scared. 

I don’t think Alastor manifesting Husk’s chains is unheard of in their relationship—Alastor’s a mean bitch who only tolerates a little bit of poking before he snaps—but I do think that the pulling of that chain is usually as bad as it gets. That’s the point where Husk stops talking but hasn’t started looking worried yet. Husk was probably fully expecting that being knocked to the floor would be the end of the matter. 

He’s scared—the most scared we’ve ever seen him—only after Alastor goes Radio Demon on him, and that’s why I think it’s something he’s never had happen before. Husk wasn’t expecting that degree of reaction at all. And I think it’s a sign that Alastor is starting to lose it.

We know the smile is fake. We know it’s a form of self-imposed self-discipline that’s as rigid as it is insane. And we now have it confirmed that Alastor has some pretty aggressive insecurities that are eating away at him behind the facade. Last time he was seen as ‘less than’ he slaughtered hide way to the top of the Pride Ring

Going episode by episode, there’s a subtle pattern of Alastor getting progressively more snubbed, which isn’t really what you expect when you’re introduced to the character in the Pilot. Vaggie describes him as someone of almost mythic power and, even with Angel’s levity and irreverence, that’s the impression that sticks, cemented by the way he takes out Sir Pentious. You get an immediate impression of what Alastor was like at the very top of his game.

You know: before the Seven Year Absence.

In the first episode, there’s the advert. The video advert. It’s all played for jokes (as it should be) but if you look at it as a first domino it makes sense. It’s our reintroduction to Alastor as a character: he’s made a terrible, unhelpful tv commercial and the ‘good’ one (we never get to see) was made with significant help. He clearly loathes having to do it, and he’s clearly got no real skill in it (if he did, he’d be showing off because he’s unbearably vain, you all know this is true.) He’s out of his element and he’s not adjusting quickly enough; people don’t know him from the radio anymore because Vox has the monopoly in entertainment.

Speaking of, in the Second Episode, we get Vox, aka the first and only person who gives a damn where deer boy went. Vox gives this shit by playing dress up and writing a diss track which Alastor immediately co-opts to make him rage quit. The song slaps—Alastor’s part in the song slaps… but it’s worth pointing out that Vox is the only person shown caring that The Radio Demon is back; the other two V’s are mildly entertained because they have renewed lease to absolutely dunk on Vox, and, while the crowds are drawn to the radio, they don’t look… bothered. There’s no big reaction of ‘dear god, it’s him (the deer god)’. Granted, we don’t see their response to the threat, but tbh if any radio threatens you with a return to The Bad Old Days the only honest reaction is to be a little scared, you don’t need to be in Hell for that.

In any case, regardless of how much he sucked at it, Vox still felt confident enough to make his little coping track public in the first place. He felt certain enough about Alastor’s lack of standing to make his own insecurities into a musical. The cultural idea of Alastor and his mythos has degraded enough for people to take potshots and then broadcast those potshots for funnsies. It’s pretty far from where we started in the Pilot with Vaggie not even wanting him past the door.

Third Episode… people of the conference room, please raise your right hand if you care why this staticky twink has been gone for seven years. *cue the deafening silence of no hands being raised*

Alastor is shut down and dismissed entirely in front of every other overlord at once, and it happens without consequence. He can’t do dick. He can’t play up the mystery, or draw them in to his narrative, or do anything to take control of the room. No one asked, no one cares. The meeting (which, if Carmine’s surprise at seeing him there is any indicator, he might not have even been directly invited to) moves on. I’m almost certain that the only reason he played coy with Zestial was because he thought he could have that Moment with everyone there and listening. He wants so desperately to be listened to.

We know that the hierarchies in Hell are less about who could actually make you eat concrete and more a popularity contest. That’s made explicitly clear in the first episode with low level sinners tearing strips off of Charlie, and clearer still in Helluva Boss where Stolas gets disrespected by the whole club for his messy personal business—in song form. And what I’ve not actually seen anyone else talking much about is how Alastor may be a very physically powerful demon but he’s getting no respect from any of his old peers. Sure, maybe the masses are spooked, but it’s not to the point where it’s making anyone else lose their chokehold. The people huddled around his radio still flick their eyes back to Vox’s screens when he talks. The egg boys ask him inane personal questions the same way they would anyone else. His own peers neither respect him nor care that he’s come back. Nobody has shown (positive) interest in the hotel now that it’s his personal enterprise.

We’re told the time skip was five months. We have no idea if things have changed in those five months, but Alastor starts Episode 5 palpably agitated. I’m guessing things didn’t go up for him. I’m guessing that it’s setting in for him that this is the vibe now, and the only person who actually thinks him untouchable is, well, him.

Add Lucifer. Suddenly, his business partner might not actually need him at all, either as help or an emotional connection, because she can replace them with her father, the actual king of Hell, who doesn’t like him; there’s an infinitely more powerful and capable demon in what is functionally Alastor’s home; said powerful demon has no fucking clue who Alastor even is, the role he plays, or the effort he’s invested (regardless of reason) into Charlie’s project, and there is no Alastor Approved way of making any respect happen on that front. As far as he’s concerned, he’s looking at a brick wall with FUCK YOU PERSONALLY graffitied on it.

Regarding the songs with Alastor in them, both of them are serving two purposes; the first is to piss off someone who slighted him, but I think the second is to reassert to everyone present his importance specifically after an instance of them forgetting. With Vox the primary objective is roasting the other overlord into shut down and the secondary is warning everyone listening that he’s still a viable threat despite what they just heard. With Lucifer, the first goal is to piss harder than the devil, but the second is reminding Charlie that he’s important and he has a place with them. Little as he’d like to admit it, it’s two cases of Alastor demanding a return to the way things usedto be. He wants to be the most terrifying thing on the wavelengths by default, and is willing to short out the power supply to all Hell to get that; he wants to be valued so much by the people around him that the most important man in Hell can’t just supplant him by being there. Obviously it doesn’t work out like that, but a self-absorbed nightmare man can dream.

And then Husk brings up the idea that he might be vulnerable on top of All That. It’s the final straw. He has spent the last few episodes very subtly scrabbling for a shred of acknowledgement and his bitch ass is getting none. 

Mimzy, if I’m allowed to speculate a little, is deliberately thrown into the mix at this juncture because of how she relates to Alastor in juxtaposition to the damage his seven year absence and unspecified deal has done to his reputation; she wants to hide behind his coattails because he’s the big, scary Radio Demon who can protect her from anything, because who in their right mind would cross him? She’s literally a part of his old life. She’s reacting to him the way everyone did seven years ago—with complete and total faith in his ability to be an unholy monster at a moment’s notice.

Being told ‘hey, maybe she’s in deeper shit than you can shovel because someone’s tying your hands’ is, to Alastor, just another snub in a long, illustrious line, and this time it’s personal because it’s coming from Husk. It’s not just a newly popular medium he’s no good with, or Vox with his haterection, or a meeting he can’t derail with his personal life, or a boardroom full of equals he newly means nothing to—it’s his own people thinking he’s not capable anymore. And Husk is happy to say that with literally the most powerful man in Hell right there for comparisons in inadequacy. Going full dial eyes on him isn’t just an over-vicious retaliation, it’s a demonstration and reminder of what Alastor is capable of… and it’s probably done for himself as much as it’s about putting Husk back in his place. 

Because that’s what Alastor used to be able to do; make all the other overlords cower on their knees at his feet while he regaled them with all the ways in which they could fuck off. 

Seven years of possibly not entirely voluntary absence… and this is the closest to that he can get. A guy whose soul he owns, who will be back to snarking in a few days time, having to be dragged into prostrating himself on the carpet. One of the few people who inexplicably give a shit about him promising to shut up only on pain of death.

And at the end of the episode everything he’s done means nothing and he has to tell Mimzy to leave anyway… and he’s subdued and uncomfortable about it. She’s his friend, one of the few people willing to tolerate him, and apparently one of the last people to share the perception he has of himself… and he has to tell her to go because the reality is that he, for whatever reason, is not making choices which are entirely his own. The reality is that Husk may be right; Alastor’s grip on everything and everyone around him is, for a variety of reasons, not as strong as it used to be. The guy is unravelling behind the mask; he’s insufferably proud and it’s starting to strangle him.

The point of all this is, there’s a pattern of escalation here. I think Alastor is out of his depth and it’s going to start showing. I think he’s going to make some sort of desperate bid for control to get his standing back. I think he’s going to have to reckon with his own disappearance. And… I don’t think it’s gonna be pretty.

TLDR: My Beloved is a time bomb and him dominating Husk was just the alarm going off. I believe this with my whole heart because of Reasons.

(Side note: I think it’s been sidelined and/or cut due to season constraints and the show being rushed to shit by production, but I do believe Charlie and Al must have some kind of bond. It’s been five months of living together and she doesn’t turn around and refute his claims or even look surprised by them, which implies to me that the events are true if not the presentation. Obviously the girl’s got daddy issues and Al doesn’t actually see her as a daughter, but I really don’t think that equals ‘there’s no fond feelings here at all.’ Plus everyone else is there watching their nonsense; while Alastor has 0% shame, I’m pretty sure someone else (Vaggie) would have something to say if him claiming affection for Charlie was as left field for them as it was for us. Really wish we had more time for relaxed character interactions to let dynamics breathe, there was such potential in HH’s concepts but I feel like we’re skipping whole chunks. I want the dumb beach episode, you know?) 

[halfway-house-in-hell]

nifty redesign

(click for better quality)

thoughts under the cut

ok so!!

-my nifty backstory is a bit less fleshed out so stay with me here

-she was an aspiring science fiction writer born in japan late 1940's

-unfortunatly she never got to live out her dream as she was married off into a mafia family at 15

-this may have been the mafia family angel dust belonged to ☺️

-neither of them know this☺️☺️

-from then on she was whitewashed and essentially brainwashed into the perfect housewife

-if she disobeyed she got hit, so she did what she was told- until one day it got too much for her. she snapped, and murdered her husband in her sleep

-this got her sent into a mental asylum where she got diagnosed with hysteria and lobotomised

-she died soon after

-despite the murder reasonably being in self defence, murder is still classified as a Damning Sin in heaven's eyes and she got sent down to hell

-she is obsessed with neatness and incredibly hardworking. she will often work herself to the point of exhaustion, in which case alastor will step in and communicate her worries for her - she never complains, doing so makes her feel useless

-her obsessive tidying has led to finding loads of Banned Objects in guest's rooms

-she is the hotel's maid, chef, waitress, gardener, pest control, room attendant and accountant. they are severely understaffed

-alastor is her best and only friend. he is the only one that listens to her odd ramblings (speaking of odd ramblings, the stuff she says would be less "i like to kill bugs murder death X3" and more,, just odd facts and weird sayings and fucked up things that happened in her life but like,, sugarcoated. like shes trying to convince herself that they were good-kinda like kitty from ghosts abt her sister). she spies for him, it is pretty easy for her to go unnoticed due to her small stature. nothing goes unheard that alastor doesnt hear about

-her and alastor sometimes just go for walks together, with her perched on his arm like a falcon. i imagine a side plot of an episode being them taking one of their walks when they come across a sinner trying to move out of the pride ring, they try to help him hijinks ensue ect ect

-she isnt in it for the money, which is good bc shes not paid much

okii thats it :33

[tarotwithlove]

pac ♡ a short message from your guides

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · TWITTER · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated

GROUP ONE

“let go of the old story and of the life you once lived. you want so much more for yourself but do not make any attempt to go towards it.

you want so much more for yourself but you ignore our signs and messages because you are too afraid to leave the comfort of the life you have built.

do you want to be on your deathbed wishing you had lived your life for yourself? do you want to wake up every day and wish you had been brave enough to take a chance? to push yourself? to endure the difficulty that came with change?

we know how much you wish for change, and how much you ignore it. we are trying to bring your dream life to you but there is only so much we can do—and only so much we are willing to do before we stop trying entirely.

the greatness of your fear is almost admirable. some of us understand you, you must know that dear. some of our lives were so controlled by that same fear, asking ourselves every night, “what if my family no longer accepts me? what if i regret it? what if? what if? what if?”. until one day you wake up and you realise you have let your entire life pass you by. we want more than this for you.

we want you to live not just wish to live. we want you to want to live, so much that you fight for it”

GROUP TWO

“you are still struggling to find balance in your life. we are proud of you for how much you have overcome; how much you have healed; how much you have grown.

of course, we are proud, how could we not be? we recognize that at times our lessons were a bit too harsh for your heart, but there was no other way. you’re a bit stubborn to our messages, so if we have to take some extreme methods to get across to you, we will. and we have. and you have moved above all of the obstacles we’ve placed before you with ease.

the uncertainties and stresses and heartbreaks… all these lessons… and look at you now. we cannot help but look upon you with pride.

though, dear, there is still a need for you to try and find balance in your life. you are either too focused on work or too focused on love, and can never find a happy medium between these two things.

you long for love and connection but can you manage a relationship on top of all your other responsibilities? especially in a new connection with someone you have wanted to be with in this way for so long?

we know more than you can ever imagine but we only guide you so much. don’t just plunge into things without thinking them through. balance, remember?”

GROUP THREE

“your potential is limitless, more limitless than anyone could ever explain to you or that you could ever truly know and understand—especially right now.

you have so many dreams and you wonder how you are going to achieve all of them; wondering even as you persist in the knowledge that you will achieve everything you decide you will.

we have watched you through every moment of your life, and we are so moved by your will to live; your will to have better than anyone could ever imagine for you; your will to do anything but accept the life you have been given. don’t worry. you will have it all.

every effort you put in is being multiplied tenfold behind the scenes on our part. more than that. so much more than that. don’t focus on the hows or whys or whens, just know that you will be rewarded for all that you have done and are doing. and never, ever, worry that your manifestations and prayers are going unheard and not listened to.

for now, enjoy the little moments of the life that exists around you.

you will miss this peace and quiet when it’s gone.”

GROUP FOUR

“you may not want to admit it but that connection ending was the best thing that could have ever happened for you and your life.

and that is right: for you, not to you, because even when you felt like your life was falling apart it was just falling into place. and you are seeing so right now.

remember how tired you were every day, how tethered you felt, how unsure you were if you should have been following your mind or heart. how you woke up every day conflicted and went to bed riddled with guilt. how you wondered if you should have stayed or if you should have let go.

but you were strong enough to let go, and that should let you know that you are strong enough to do anything. you did not believe this before, always going along with the flow and shooting low out of fear that actually reaching for the things you want would do nothing but hurt you, and while it was a bit harsh to teach you the lesson in this way it was needed.

but… we also fear that we have made you too afraid to try at love again. there is only so much that we can say that is going to ease your pain and uncertainty, but know that every risk worth taking is a risk that is worth getting hurt for.

know that you will never know the true outcome of a connection and you cannot spend the rest of your life running away from potential happiness out of fear of potential heartache.

be brave in the way we know that only you can be.”

[stubz]

Pollix lazed on the beanbag in the reading area. The passing sun shining just so perfectly on the young tighalax. He rolled onto his stomach and kneaded the carpet below when he spotted something or rather someone.

Nova. The ship Captain's daughter and fellow tighalax is currently stalking something.

'It's like watching a newborn cub walking for the first time. She'd be the runt of any tighalax pack in the galaxy.'

Pollix really had nothing against the smaller cub but he just couldn't help himself from teasing and poking fun at her every now and then.

'She's 6 moons older than me but half my size! She's like one of those stuffies we have in the toy bin.' he giggled to himself.

Intrigued by what she was doing he looks to see what her target is.

His ears perk as does his posture.

Kim. One of their human caretakers/teachers. Currently cleaning up some blocks on the ground. Completely unaware of the small feline-like creature.

She pounces. The prey is caught. Sent tumbling to it's side, shrieking with laughter.

A successful hunt shrieks Athea also watching the "hunt".

'A successful hunt? Pfft, I get that they're comrades but how could Athea call that a hunt?' for Nova's hunt was something to be expected of when one was a fresh cub. To celebrate a hunt like this when you were 7 summers old? Unheard of.

But runts do take longer since they're often too weak for some summers to do this type of thing, he concluded.

Still, at their age they should be hunting prey that's much bigger than Kim. Something around Max's size.

"Pollix! I caught Kim, did you see?"

"I saw...you were very quiet. But remember to use what's around you. Like you could have hide behind the bookshelf to get even closer."

"Oh. That's so smart! Thanks Pollix, I'm going to practice on Kim again."

"Mmmm." he curled back onto the bean bag.

"Not impressed?"

"Your blocking the sun Athea," he whined looking up at the orc. "But no not really. I mean Kim is strong I guess but she's a human."

"What. Humans are strong, sometimes stronger than other apex species like us." Pollix scoffs

"Yeah but I knocked her down like a million times when we wrestled! So Nova's probably going to be able to knock her over at least once, or maybe Kim just let her." he finished as an afterthought.

"...Okay so maybe she let Nova knock her over but what if she also let you knock her over?"

<If there's one thing many know about Tighalaxes it's that they are very prideful of their hunts and wins. And to diminish said hunts and wins is to question their skills as a hunter. The fastest and easiest way to tick them off>

The cub puffs his fur and flicks his tail around angrily.

"Nu-uh."

"Yu-huh."

"No. I knocked her over because I'm stronger than her!"

"And so did Nova. So I guess Nova is also strong." she stares at him.

<Now for Orcs, what they're known for is their undying loyalty. Should you belittle or badmouth an Orc's friend within earshot of them be prepared for an argument or a swift blow to the face. Depends on the situation>

The young orc straightens to her full height while keeping her gaze with the tighalax cub. Who in return get's up and rises to his full height as well.

Standing at 5 feet tall both are easily larger than most other youngling species their age. Only 5 inches shy of their teacher Kim.

Only at the age 6.

"Why don't you try to tackle her?"

Startled they stop sizing each other up and turn to the human who managed sneak up on them.

Jasper. A human child their age. Almost a foot smaller than them.

"I do it all the time. It's fun and I get to see how strong I am by how much I can make Kim move!" he exclaims, "One time I managed to make her take a step."

"That could work."

"Huh?"

"If you can tackle Kim then I'll apologize and take it back. If you can't then that means that Nova is strong too."

"Alright. But I'm doing it the proper way. Not when she's crouched down. That'd be too easy."

"Whatever."

..

'A real hunter should rely on their strength and instincts. Not just hiding and sneak attacks.'

He stalks towards Kim who's standing in the middle of the room doing a head count.

He picks up the pace. Her back is still to him.

He's broken into a run now. Normally he should wait till he's closer but he's just trying to tackle her so it's fine. She hears him.

He's at full speed and mere seconds away. Athea will be saying sorry to him very soon. She turns sideways and widens her feet.

He lunges. She's smiling.

To Athea and everyone else watching it was like watching a bouncy ball hit a wall. The cub made impact only to bounce off the human onto the floor.

"OH SHOOT!" Kim picks him and sets him on his back paws. "Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't think you'd bounce like that."

"..." could she always pick him up that easily?

"You look okay, Pollix are you hurt anywhere?" he shakes his head.

"Well that's good. Sorry about that buddy," she chuckles. "I thought since your a lot bigger than Jasper and Nova that you'd be fine. Here, let me go get you a starburst for the great effort."

"Wow Pollix! You made her actually get ready for it. I never did that. You really are strong." exclaims Nova. Eyes sparkling with awe.

"I, I just bounced off her. Like a bug."

"Yep." Athea pats her friend on the shoulder.

"...Nova you did a great job with your hunt. It was awesome."

"Aw, thanks Pol."

"I wonder if I could tackle her? I am heavier than you."

"Yeah you are pretty fat."

"Fat so I can crush you."

"You two are weird friends." sighs Nova.

[kadeasi]

"Machiavellian" | a. ancunin

Perhaps she had misread the situation entirely. Perhaps her interpretation of things had turned so sour that now her judgment was clouded and dimmed by tainted glasses of animosity. Either way, she should have taken heed when she was afforded a glimpse into the blackened soul that had spawned from the union of these two beings.

Instead, she allowed her pride and trust in him to blind her vision and to twist her love and affection into something dirty, twisted, and base. It was why she was standing here now, crying and berating herself forgiving him any kind of emotional attachment.

'I thought that when we slayed Cazador that his will was all but dead--that he had only marked you in flesh and any other wounds inflicted would heal with time, so long as we were together.'

His features hardened with displeasure, grip tightening on her face so much that she felt his nails dig into her cheeks. 'Choose your next works very carefully or they may be the last ones I allow you to speak.'

'I should have never let you ascend--you only picked up where he left off in his work. You aren't even a shadow of the man I knew anymore.'

It pained her to say these things to him, and she prayed silently that he could forgive her—that she could take them back, no matter how hollow and empty they seemed without him. It took all her strength to force the words out—to fight the compulsion to keep the venomous thoughts within—but her spirit could not remain tethered to this man forever, despite how much she wished that it could.

Suddenly, it seemed as if all the air immediately left the room. It was a mere blink before Astarion had a hand wrapped around her throat, his eyes burning with murderous intent as she wriggled under his grasp. It only took a couple seconds for him to squeeze her throat so tightly that she began to feel faint. Her breathing was shallow and fast—too fast to be considered human.

A red haze fell over her vision as Astarion's glare burned holes into her body. ‘P-please…I can’t breathe.’

Blood trickled down her throat, dancing down his fingers.

‘Astarion, please!

He stared blankly ahead as he breathed heavily through his nostrils. Finally, after nearly a minute, he released her, allowing her to gasp for breath. Her lungs heaved violently against her rib-cage as she struggled to regain control of her weakened state. The first few steps of her recovery were marred by sharp gasps for air. When she finally found enough of herself to stand on her own, she slowly backed away from him, hands clutched to her throat and lips parted as though she was trying to force the air inside of her back up to her diaphragm.

When her breathing stabilized, her blue-green eyes met his and his anger vanished from them—now replaced by an intense desire to ease the pain. However, when he took a step towards her and Durge took a cautious step back, the same blank expression took hold of his face once more, only this time, something within it seemed to stir, like a calm lake turning tumultuous with the wind picking up—the realization dawning upon him and slowly creeping up on him.

He looked upon her for several moments, feeling lost in the sadness and confusion that flooded her beautiful blue eyes. Astarion realized that she had not backed away from him because she was still being stubborn, no, she had backed away because she feared him. Afraid of what he might do to her. What he might inflict upon her. What she was afraid he would do to her.

Her fear ripped at his already injured soul.

'I wish to see you removed from my sight. Leave me. Now.'

His words were soft, almost unheard.

Astarion watched her as she moved toward the door, and when she reached for the knob, he turned to look back at her. In that moment, she saw the hint of agony on his features—felt the remorse that churned inside of him, threatening to consume his entire being. She remembered all too well the voids and caverns that resided within him—voids that he filled with wine, women and men; holes that were once lined with gold and rainbows but have become buried under the darkness of his past deeds. Yet it was this darkness that kept him warm during the coldest nights and gave him warmth when the sun beat down upon his skin.

And when none of that worked, it was her that had kept him grounded and sane throughout the rest.

Astarion's clenched his fist tightly and with one last look, he turned his back to her, listening as the door closed behind her and the sounds of her foots steps were engulfed in the silence that remained in the room. With his thoughts consumed with pain and suffering, Astarion stood alone and listened to the steady rhythm of his cold, beating heart.

This was not how he pictured their future to be.

Link to full story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55386466/chapters/140525068

[tf2-oneshots]

Dad spy trying to explain to scout that he is in fact his dad and not tom jones. Tomfoolery ensues. This is up to interpretation make of this ask what you will. Thank you, xoxo.

Using this as my first angst prompt sorry in advance!

Warnings: angst, abandonment, past bullying

Rating: Teen and up

Two dainty knocks land on Scout’s door. Must be Spy. When you work with the same eight guys for six years, you memorize how each one of them knocks on your door. Scout sets his comic book aside and sits upright on his bed. So much for a lazy Sunday.

“Come in.” He calls out. Spy opens the door, taking only a couple steps into the room. He peers around as if to ensure that no one else was present. She really wishes someone was here to avoid this.

“Scout, I would like to talk to you about something.” The door shuts behind Spy, but he doesn’t move. Like he’s frozen where he stands. God, how did her plan go? He thought of the millions of ways this could end, and only one was a good ending.

“Uh, okay? What is it?” Scout raises a brow. Usually, people only talk to him when he has a contract or did something wrong. On the rare occasion, its to move his motorcycle to another parking spot. Why does she look so emotionless?

Spy takes a seat on the edge of Scout’s bed. The man pulls his legs against his chest, giving her a bit of room. Everything feels so surreal. Maybe this is just a dream, and Spy will gasp awake in his bed when Scout throttles him. She really hopes it’s all just a dream.

“Tom Jones died in his 20s, Scout. You are aware of this, yes?” Off to a weird start. Scout prides himself in being the president of the Tom Jones fan club. He knows every single fact about the man down to the exact instruments he uses in every song. To not know how old his idol was when Merasmus broke his neck, according to the newspapers at least, would be unheard of.

“Uh, yeah. Too young to go if, uh, you ask me.” Spy nods. They can agree on that. Dying before 30 is tragically young for anyone, famous or not. She looks over to the younger man whose gaze is focused on a Tom Jones poster.

“Much too young. Too young to be your father as well.” He braces for a slap, but nothing happens. Scout stays silent. Maybe he didn’t hear her. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear. Spy takes a slow breath, back to staring at the wall.

“Scout, I…” It’s right there. Right fucking there on her tongue. He can taste the words begging to slip from his lips. Spy hates what a coward he is. She spent 24 years on the run, but the past caught up to bite her in the ass. Damn, does he wish he had a cigarette.

“I…met a woman in my youth. She had seven children, and I adored them. So much so that…we made an eighth. His name was Jeremy.” Damnit, damnit, damnit all! She always dances around with hidden meanings and half assed phrases. It seems that Spy’s own heart wears a mask.

“You…were that boy. Scout, I—“ As he turns to Scout, she sees the disgust on his face. His button nose scrunched tightly with eyes narrowed. Scout gets off of his bed, staring down at Spy.

“Don’t fucking joke about that.” His legs are shaking. Scout tries to breathe, but it’s short and trembling. How could Spy be so cruel to say that? Scout remembers how miserable being fatherless was as a child. He watched so many dads carry their sons into ice cream shops. He saw them in the stands wearing messy ties made in Home EC during sewing lessons.

It wasn’t just jealousy he suffered from. When word got out about Scout not having a dad, he was tormented relentlessly. He spent one Father’s Day getting shoved in a locker. That’s when he dislocated his shoulder and had to fend off an eighth grader with one hand. He really wishes his last oldest brother didn’t move on to high school that year.

“Scout, I have nothing to gain from a joke. You’re my son, and I’m so sorry for leaving.” Spy sighs, fighting the lump in her throat. She remembers the swarm of little boys around his legs, eager to meet their new baby brother. He still recalls sitting on the floor, chuckling as they surrounded him, leaning in to finally meet Jeremy.

“My dad’s dead.” That’s what Ma told him on his seventh birthday. Scout had grown curious as to why all of his friends had dads but not him. Not any of his brothers actually unless the handful of birthday cards in the mail counts. A couple with money and others empty without even a drop of ink written on them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, so I told your mother to say that.” It was heartbreaking how unfazed Caroline was when Spy told her. She had endured it seven times before, so how painful could an eighth be? The only part that stung, she admitted, was that Spy bothered to stay. Even if only long enough to witness Scout’s first steps, he gave Caroline hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else could commit to the parent role.

Scout turns away, fists clenched before he grips his hair. Ma would never lie to him. She’s a good mother, and she loves Scout more than anything. She’d be honest if his dad was a deadbeat who was in over his head. All of his older brothers know what happened to their dads. Dead, arrested, second family, ran off, and so forth.

“Scout, please, I—“ Spy stands, placing a hand on his shoulder only for it to be shrugged off. Scout keeps his head down to stare at his feet. He gulps, eyes shut to fight back tears.

“My dad is dead.” That’s the truth. That’s the only truth. Scout won’t listen to anything else. His dad died when he was a baby. There’s a headstone somewhere in America with his name etched onto it. Scout will never meet him no matter what.

“…Okay.” Spy purses her lips. He nods, trying to understand how Scout feels. Maybe one day he’ll come around. Maybe he’ll stab her in her sleep. He wipes away tears and takes a breath before leaving the younger’s room. Some things are better left the way they are.

Poor Spy can we get an F in the chat -H

[naminethewriter]

One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter Two: Coffee and Mothman

Masterpost | Previous | Next | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: Cryptids mention, Mothman mention

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Janus walked into Dan’s Bean Stop the following Sunday, expecting nothing but buying a nice frappe. So, when his eyes fell on Virgil hiding away in one corner, sitting alone at his laptop, he was pleasantly surprised.

“Hello Janus! You’re looking well!” Dan, the owner, greeted as he stepped up to the counter. Dan’s son Evan had been in Janus’ class during school and they had been good friends. Janus had been to their house often enough for Dan to become a person he was comfortable around.

“I am, thank you. Enjoying the horrible weather on my day off.”

Dan chuckled at his obvious lie, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky today. “As you should! Now, what can I get you.”

“Caramel frappe, please.”

“To go or you sticking around a bit?”

Janus’ eyes wandered back over to Virgil, who hadn’t seemed to notice him despite Dan speaking rather loudly.

“I think I’d like to sit down a little bit.”

Dan raised his eyebrow. It was unusual for Janus to stay, though not unheard of.

“Got it. That’ll be four dollars.”

Janus paid and left Dan to prepare his drink. He gingerly stepped over to Virgil’s table, trying to be obvious enough about it so the other didn’t startle. His effort was in vain however, since Virgil was too absorbed in his laptop to notice his approach. Janus cleared his throat when he stood directly in front of him and Virgil jumped.

“Fucking shit,” he cursed, gripping at his chair. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t sneaking! I even went out of my way to be noticeable. It’s not my fault you didn’t pay any attention to your surroundings,” Janus huffed and sat down. Virgil stared at him without blinking for a long moment and Janus noticed the dark bags under his eyes.

“You’re from the library, right?”

“You forgot me already, I’m hurt!” Janus declared dramatically, with his hand over his heart.

Virgil rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. “I’ve met a lot of pushy people every day since I moved here, you’re not that special.”

“How curious. I was told I was ‘a special kind of guy’ all throughout college.”

“What do you want?” Virgil sighed, abandoning their banter.

“Simply some company for a drink. If you don’t want me here though, I will leave. I’m not trying to force myself on you.” Janus watched Virgil closely for his reaction and while he looked a bit torn for a moment, he finally shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I should take a break anyway.” He underlined his statement by closing the laptop and Janus’ eyes fall onto a few stickers that hadn’t been as visible until that moment. The ones he found most interesting were a progressive pride flag and another that said ‘Be Gay, Do Crime.’

“What are you working on, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked as Dan approached with his drink.

“Interrogating the new guy, Janus? Cut him some slack.”

“But how else will I find out if he’s a government spy? Mothman could be in danger!” Dan laughed loudly, pat Janus on the back and left them alone.

“Mothman? Really?” Virgil asked, amused.

“What? Don’t believe in cryptids? I would have guessed you the type that did.”

“Oh, I do believe in cryptids, especially Mothman, but there’s no way in hell he’s anywhere close to here.”

“And why is that?”

Apparently that little question opened the floodgates since Virgil’s eyes lit up and he started rambling about why the climate around their little town was not at all what Mothman would prefer. Janus sipped his latte and listened.

~~~

“You know quite a lot about Mothman,” Janus stated when Virgil finally winded down almost ten minutes later.

“Yeah, well… I didn’t have many friends in school, so I did a lot of research.” Virgil seemed uncomfortable with the topic, so Janus didn’t pry further, though he did file away the bit of information to maybe bring up a later time when they’re more familiar with each other.

“I hope you can consider me a friend then.”

Virgil flushed lightly. “I’d like that. Thanks, Janus. I was really nervous about moving to a new place alone since I generally don’t have a great track record of making friends, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Virgil. I don’t know why you would have problems though. I think you are a very intriguing person to talk to, but I guess I’m just a better judge of character than most.”

“Oh, shut up,” Virgil muttered, his face getting redder. “I’m insufferable.”

“Right, an absolute pain to be around. That’s why I came to your table on my own accord and let you infodump about Mothman for ten minutes.” Janus rolled his eyes playfully and Virgil smiled.

“Sorry. I’ve been told I have a problem with self-deprecation.”

“No need to apologize. I will call you out on it, however. Annoy you until you stop.”

“Can’t wait,” Virgil said dryly and Janus laughed.

“Would you be open to come by for dinner sometime? I could use the company.”

“You live alone? I wouldn’t have pegged you the type.” Virgil raised an eyebrow, watching Janus intently. He in turn just shrugged.

“It just happened to work out that way. If you’d like to hear the story you could buy me another drink.”

“If you continue talking like that, it will sound like we’re on a date.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

Until that point, Janus hadn’t been seriously flirting with Virgil, even if he couldn’t deny that he was interested in him on a more than platonic level. It seemed that Virgil had a different opinion, as he suddenly went ridged and reached for his laptop.

“I think I have to leave now.”

“Wait, Virgil!” Janus stood as the other hurriedly got up and shoved his laptop in his bag. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I just— I have somewhere to be, excuse me.” He didn’t let Janus say another word before he quickly left the shop. Janus watched him through the glass front until he was out of sight.

Had he really misinterpreted their interactions that badly?

[scarletlizzard]

Precisely, glad to see you’re catching on.

Your manners are delicious - it’s so satisfying to watch you swallow your pride and behave, just to please me. Such an eager girl. Seeing as you asked so nicely, I’m 5’7 with hazel eyes, and do feel free to allow another few inches to that considering your ‘little Brit’ is nigh on constantly in heels.

Well, I haven’t punished you for your bratty behaviour, have I? A small admonishment has always been enough to have you fawning again. Though I admit I am inclined to be lenient in that aspect; I enjoy a pet with some personality - playfulness ought to be encouraged, but I warn you not to test the boundaries, darling.

I am glad to hear that you enjoy my manner of speech, I imagine it can be an acquired taste, particularly for other nationalities. I’m particularly gratified to see your response to being called a good girl, so very responsive.

Gosh, some nostalgic names in there! I really appreciate Hozier’s tone of voice, but in all honesty I don’t think I’ve listened to him since Take Me to Church was released! Suggest a couple of his songs to me, I’ll gladly try them. For me, Labrinth has such strong connotations of juvenile drinking at messy house parties, but it seems he has moved on from the days of ‘Earthquake’! I just listened to (and very much enjoyed) The Feels, so well done you. As for Leon Bridges, I adore him - in fact he was my most recently purchased vinyl. Excellent taste, darling. Having said that, I hadn’t heard Shy and (naturally) am now a huge fan. I currently have a Laufey song (Street by Street) on my playlist, but I think I may prefer this! Another wonderful addition to the playlist regardless.

I can tell that you worked hard, and you did such a good job, clever girl.

-🫖

BEFORE ANYONE SAYS ONE WORD TO ME. This was sent before all the asks last night. But I still want to answer because it's my blog and I most absolutely can do whatever I want!!

Yeah, this aged really well, don't you think? Pride? Swallowed. Behave? I'm sat! Something about you thinking my manners are delicious just makes me want to -

You're quite taller than me, and the heels 😳😩 but also like... you're my little Brit 😙

I have to admit those hazel eyes WILL be on my mind. Also will admit you being lenient about your punishments?? Not so sure that's true. And so what if I admit you calling me a good girl had me on my knees?

Anyways I'm DONE admitting things!! Y'all are just ruthless. You're not even supposed to be reading this unless your name is little Brit. Go away!

Hozier just released an EP called Unheard yesterday that's been on repeat for me. It's four songs, and they're all so good. I'm particularly addicted to Too Sweet and Empire now. Besides the EP I think you'll like his songs Movement and Eat Your Young 😊

I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you listened, and even enjoyed my recommendations! Also that you even already listen to them. The fact that I knew so well is even more gratifying 😋 I love vinyl! Although I imagine our collections are a bit different. I do have a few classical though if that gets me any points.

[stupidstupidpeople]

ugh rewatching rescue bots and i’m realizing how much i love these characters again. out of all the main characters, there is not a single one i dislike. i love all of them and for all different reasons. lemme know why you love certain characters pls pls pls. give me all the details you want, i want to hear them all. i’ll start it off with one of my favorite bots, that being of course the lovely chase.

Five Reasons To Love Chase

I’ve heard people say before that they thought chase was too serious, too emotionless, and while his character is quite a bit more stoic than other characters, I would have to say I fully disagree with such a statement.

He’s not emotionless, he’s simply extremely controlled.

I can only imagine that on Cybertron, Chase went through extensive training. I’m sure a lot of that training was learning to have control over yourself, over others, and over a situation. It would be extremely important (and is important for even earthly officers) to control their emotions, and temper. He’s certainly the least expressive of the bots; however, you can in fact see emotions register on his face during the show. He simply, generally does not allow his emotions to affect his job, or his words.

He’s logical, but not in a ‘I know everything type of way.’

I think this is huge!! Most logical characters are portrayed as useless nerds, who always know everything. Chase is most certainly a nerd, but he’s definitely not useless, and he never claims to know everything. In fact, he never even claims to know anything. When he’s thinks he knows something, but somebody provides counter information, he doesn’t usually think they’re wrong. For example, when learning of earth humor, he was getting it all wrong. Whenever he messed up, he never lashed out in a prideful way as most logical characters would. Instead, he asked, “Is this not earth humor? I’ll continue to work on it.” Furthermore, to expand on this, Chase is extremely underrated in his IQ (in my own opinion.) From what I see, is that people often forget that Chase is more than a worthy opponent in intelligence against many many fictional characters, and against any that are in the Transformers’ Universe.

He’s got some of the most admirable traits in the show. Loyalty, Honesty, Diligence, Courage, and more.

It’s well known that Chase admires loyalty. He’s not a prideful bot, but he certainly has the right to be proud of his loyalty. He is extremely honest too. We see in the show how much trouble he has with lying- even white lies. Chase certainly isn’t the type of bot to give up- in fact he never gives up. He’s always willing to try, especially when he’s scared. Chief Burns states in the show, that courage is being afraid but doing it anyways. Chase certainly exemplifies such a quality. He’s also obedient, but that only ties in to when he’s already loyal to a person. The characters he is most often seen taking orders from, are characters he has seemed to swear his loyalty to: Chief Burns, Heatwave, and Cody. He’s also by far the most respectful bot, and takes great care to learn about what is considered polite, and socially ‘okay’ to humans. He simply doesn’t want to offend somebody. His last trait, and maybe his best trait is how dedicated and passionate he his. To saving lives, helping people, and to correctly performing his job.

He’s kind, maybe almost as kind as Boulder.

Now this is a harder to notice trait, because it never makes itself as obvious as Boulder’s is made. But come on, Chase being disrespectful or rude? Unheard of. Even when he’s unsure of something the chief or one of his teammates is doing, he’ll never blatantly call them out. I mean, wouldn’t somebody as kind, polite, respectful, and patient as Chase, just be somebody that you feel you could trust?

He’s a rule follower.

I’m sure many people won’t appreciate that I added this, but it’s definitely one of the reasons I love Chase. Throughout the episodes, we see other bots violate rules that have been set for them, but then for Chase, we never see that. Hell, even during a high speed chase, he waited to allow an old man to cross the street, and then still caught the guy in record time. He always follows the law. I know many people think that rebellious characters are better, and I agree, they can be fun, but there is also few things that I love more than an avid rule follower. They make a character reliable. Red light? Chase is stopped. Act like a robot? You bet. Wait here? Will do. Risk his life every single day to protect civilians who would take the first opportunity to destroy him if they knew what he was? He will certainly be doing that, no questions asked. (Albeit, this last one can be applied to most bots!)

[danielnelsen]

How would you stretch "being born tranquil" into actual DA canon? I've always found that such a wild card thing included in DAL because presumably, you would get something like the templars making a literal newborn baby tranquil.

heh i was hoping someone would ask me about this. this will probably be a bit rambly because i havent tried explaining it in any depth before, so bear with me...

i completely agree that it makes no sense for eiton to literally be born tranquil, because tranquility is a process that is done to someone. but i also dont think he was made tranquil as a baby, nor do i think he was actually tranquil.

the doylist reading here is just that the DAL writers werent thinking too deeply about the lore, but that's not interesting so im gonna take the characters at their word instead.

my interpretation is that eiton was born without a connection to the fade, and i think it's reasonable that other characters would refer to that as tranquility because it's unheard of otherwise. especially considering his father was a templar, it would be an easy connection to make when he had no emotions, no dreams, etc.

while his mother, iselle, was pregnant with him, she helped kill a very powerful pride demon (it might be relevant that she dealt the final blow and/or that she used blood magic to do so). instead of being destroyed, the demon's soul shattered and embedded itself into five other beings. i dont know if it directly embedded itself into eiton, or if it was originally in iselle and moved into him when she died giving birth to him, but the result was the same.

im still trying to work out exactly how the events at the end of the game actually panned out (if there were five shards, that means there wasnt one in the emissary, so why was it leading the horde and directing the other vessels? i havent thought too deeply about it, so i'll have to do that sometime), but once the demon is nearly destroyed and eiton is the only remaining vessel, that part of its soul finally activates and he becomes an abomination. he says that if you kill him, he can bind the demon in the fade.

while this clearly wasnt the devs' intention because it wasnt known lore at the time, it makes sense that his 'tranquility' would be reversed when he was possessed. that could also be kinda reverse-engineered as the reason why an inert demon's soul might make him 'tranquil' in the first place; he was born with a very direct connection to the fade, but it was switched off until the demon actually manifested.

[leowolf0816]

Confession//Ch5

Chapter four

Word Count: 1173

Matt's P.O.V.

After a long couple of weeks of fighting both criminals and my building lust, I decided I may need to go to confession. So here I stood in the archway of St. Agnes Church debating if my confession is what will lead me to clarity or into insanity.

Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes and pushed open the doors revealing a room lit by color from the multiple stained-glass windows that wrapped around the church. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my exposed skin. Slowly I made my way to the confessionals where I heard the soft mumbling of someone confessing. 

I patiently waited for the confessional to be free. I broke down my cane so that I could sit comfortably. taking a deep breath I made the sign of the cross over my chest. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession" I take yet another breath. "Let me start by saying that I have hurt some bad people for doing bad things..." I took a minute to compose my thoughts into an easier string of words that did not give away too much.

 "These people had gotten away with a lot by paying off multiple officials and I couldn't just sit by and allow them to take innocent women or hurt innocent people" I glared into space for a moment. 

"I've been fighting wars that only I could fight and battles only I could win" I shook my head.

 " I know that sounds prideful but it is true in this situation I am in and I must apologize Father for I can not fully confess to the violence I have committed not in fear for what you or god may say but for fear of what may happen to you if you know this information in full yet I can not contain my sins in full I tell you what I can in hopes that god may forgive me some day for the things I have to keep from you," I notice the sound of his scrunched face in confusion.

"My dear child are these things you confess illegal?" His question makes my skin crawl but in true fashion, I try to avoid lying as best I can as in confessional I must confess sincerely and honestly in order to be cleansed of my sins.

"But that is not all Father for not only have I committed violence against my fellow man but I fear soon I may commit lustful acts" I take a deep breath. 

"I may not be able to see but each time she walks into a room my skin buzzes as if knowing she's there" I slowly forget I'm in a church as thoughts of her cloud my mind.

"She is followed by the scent of rose and sandalwood its as if she leaves a ghost of her everywhere she goes as if she is an angel sent from god to torment me with the need to prey to be able to see her in all her angelic glory as no words can properly describe her beauty as much as the when her angelic laugh fills the room and seems to echo in my ear long after she has left me morning her presence" I smile thinking of her laugh.

"she makes me feel like a pirate lost at sea drawn in by the songs she sings and the words she speaks... But Father she may be angelic but oh she is also a demon sent from satan to tempt me in such ways that I would rather worship her than god praying for a taste of the heaven between her thighs or to hear her holy voice be bathed in unholy words" I can feel my dick hearden at the thoughts planted in my head making her unheard screams of pleaser ring in my ears.

"She distracts me from all that I have worked hard for but oh I would throw it all away just to be able to pin her against the wall of my office with her skirt hiked up and legs wrapped around my waist or splayed out on my desk legs spread wide with me buried deep inside her and uttering soft curses and prayers to make it last forever for that is now how I envision my heaven to be" I can hear a hard swallow but I'm to into my thoughts to comprehend it is not my own.

"And as I am home alone with my thoughts images of her tied to my bed and dripping with sweat and desire as her legs shake and she begs me to let her cum as she whimpers and whines my name and curses that of god seem to pledge my mind... I take a deep breath at the image of her bare chest rising and falling as she lay splayed on the bed. I may not be able to see but lord can I imagine being ready to dive back in not wanting to be away from that heaven for even nearly a minute" I can feel my mouth run dry but still but yet still it drools at the imaginary sounds of hers running through my ears.

"For even if just to kiss her I would go to hell I would do so and then tell the devil I had seen heaven without stepping foot through the gate I would brag that I had heard angels sing without going to heaven at all" slowly my voice died out and oddly I felt a new still not quite comprehending what I had just confessed to the priest sat beside me his mouth agape with no word in sight. 

Slowly his words seem to come back to him as he clears his throat before he spoke "I must say I have yet to have heard quite the detail in a confession of that sort but if you truly feel this way about this woman look into yourself and see if it is she you truly want or if it is merely something else you seek... as for the violence you have inflicted on others try to resculpt your urge for violence into something more creative and less harmful" As he spoke I listened but already I knew that it was her I sought and her that I wished to place my violence in along with my want, need, care, and joy. 

I said the Act of Contrition expressing a wish to avoid sin. Father Lantom was quiet for a moment seeming to ponder what he wished to say before he said his absolutions and blessings. I thanked him as I left the confessional extending my cain again. Slowly my senses truly came back to me no longer fully clouded by the lust of my thoughts and with that the realization that a group of nuns was lined up by the confessional and some were blushing while others were scowling over what they had overheard me say. 

[a-tale-of-2-sloths]

Day 15 - Jungle Treehouse to San Jose

This was to be a mammoth of a travel day, which didn’t have the best of starts as it turns out running water is a really useful thing to have for showering, drinking, flushing…! But we accepted our fate, packed our bags and met Niko and Tim at the bottom of the path for the descent down the hill, across the river and up to the car park. The temperature was already starting to creep up and we knew the terrain can be quite unforgiving. We made it down the hill without slipping too much, but next was the hardest part, crossing the river. Thankfully there were patches of stone to ‘hopscotch across’ but you had to choose carefully. We all chose different routes, Tim was quite direct and made it with out too much fuss. I was fairly close behind, but chose a very rocky stone where I nearly lost my balance, ‘see-sawed’ a few times before leaping to safety. Georgie wasn’t too far behind and looked to be taking a similar path to mine. I cried out warning her of the unstable stone, but it was too late. She had committed and with dire consequence as the stone dropped, sending her face first in to the river. I say face first, her whole body seemed to drop like a pooh stick, but instead of floating away she remained stuck, pinned down by the weight of her bag. Despite the urge to whip out my phone and take a photo for the blog, I dashed over to hoik her up by the bag and check she was unhurt, which pride aside seemed to be the case. If Niko wasn’t nervous about crossing the river before, he certainly was now!

We scrambled up the last stretch and loaded up the car, whilst G had a quick outfit change to try and find some dry clothes. Easier said than done, given her bag had just been dunked in the river! As the trusty 4x4 made its way back down the extremely rocky hill, it wasn’t long before we returned to civilisation. The shop where we would be getting our bus tickets was 5 minutes away once on the open road and also en route to Niko and Tim’s next destination. We bid our pals many thanks and goodbye, before looking to set off in a slightly less fancy vehicle! As ever reliable G came through and located the shop where we could get our bus tickets, whilst I nipped to the bakery for some ‘caliente’ chicken empanadas and drinks. We tried a couple of bus stops on either side of the wide road (where lots of big American trucks drove past) before liaising with the locals to find the right one for our long trip back to San Jose.

The journey was set to be around 7 hours with a couple of stops, but it didn’t take quite that long and the time passed by pretty quickly. We listened to some musicals and Stephen Fry talk about Greek History, we watched a documentary about Costa Rican Wildlife and took in the last bit of country side before reaching the big city. There was a wave of taxi drivers waiting outside the bus terminal, so instead of battling with them we ordered an Uber which was there within the minute. Our driver was from Guatemala and had heard of Southampton due to his time working for a Caribbean cruises help desk! We had a good old chinwag about our time in Costa Rica before checking in to our final accommodation, Nativus Art Hostel. We had good vibes straight from the off as the reception was big and open with lots of bright colours and plants and plinky plonky music playing in the background. The room was nice, but most importantly we were able to have a hot shower! For anyone that knows me the concept of going more than 24 hours without one is unheard of!

We asked our host for a couple of dining suggestions before heading out to a local Mexican where you had to ring the doorbell to be let in?! We took a seat outside and ordered some nachos and burritos to share, it seemed quite fitting finishing in the same way we started. Followed by some lovely caramel crepes. You wouldn’t believe how many times G’s not fancied a dessert and yet every time we’re given 2 spoons and hers seems to find its way in! We waddled back to our hostel and settled in for our final night.

G’s highlight of the day: Finding where to buy bus tickets and getting the right bus to San Jose!

[rintarouss]

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗

Osamu always followed a routine. Waking earlier than the sun, running a mile before eight in the morning, eating three meals a day, and getting eight hours of sleep every night are just some things he always did without fail. You, on the other hand, seem to always change things up. Just maybe, he enjoys your unpredictability.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: husband!osamu x f!housewife reader

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff, domestic life, mild suggestive themes at the end, trying to start a family, food/eating, im pretty sure i used no pronouns bc it was in third person

𝘄𝗰: 1.7K+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: uhh yeah this was kinda indulgent and sorta inspired by that one scene in twd when rick wants to make babies w michonne

Alarm clocks were something that was never in use in your household, except in the kitchen. Osamu figured by his third year of high school that he had no use for them, as he always woke up a bit earlier than his scheduled alarm. His regimens were unwavering, so much so that his internal alarm clock was practically set in stone and would wake him everyday at 6:30AM with no chance of error. The fact his sleeping schedule was incredibly stable helped, too. The usual infuriating sound you were used to in high school was unheard of after graduating and moving in with Osamu. Even when you studied in university, you were never jolted awake by the blaring sound resonating from your phone’s speakers since your now-husband was always the one to gently wake you up. Nowadays, you usually woke up when your body decides it’s ready to start the day.

Sunlight seeped into your bedroom through your white flowy curtains that were pulled apart, letting the rays of light travel in freely. The intrusion woke you gently from your slumber, causing you to flutter your eyes open and stretch your limbs instantaneously without another thought. The familiar smell of sweet pancake batter and coffee caught your attention, the sounds of pans and dishes clinking following soon after. It was undoubtedly Osamu that was responsible for all the stimuli that was attacking your senses. Standing up from the bed, your feet hit the hardwood floors that felt ice cold each morning. Your body moved on its own, following the smell of the sweet caramel coffee you know your husband had made, fingers cascading down the smooth handrail of the staircase. Once you reached the kitchen, the sight of Osamu's shirtless and muscular back — barely covered by his black apron — was turned to you as he was tending to the eggs on the stove. 

“Damn, now this is a nice view”

Samu’s lips stretched out into a grin once he heard the saccharine sound of your voice, a small laugh bubbling from his throat and escaping quietly. He turned off the stove, seeing as the eggs have already cooked to your liking, sunny side up with a slightly runny yolk. He turned to face you with his pan in hand, ready to plate the eggs alongside the pancakes. He took in your beauty for a moment, giving a real good look at you. He took in everything about you; your messy hair that practically resembled a knot, your face free of makeup, your skimpy house clothes you only wore during hot summer nights, and your manicured hands fidgeting with your wedding band. 

“Yer’ awake early today, thought ya would be sleepin’ till noon,” he stated with a light chuckle. He gently placed the eggs onto the plates, careful with his movements as to not accidentally pop the yellow bulb of yolk. He then disposed of the non-stick pan by putting it in the sink before turning to you. His calloused hands held onto your waist and pulled you close, leaving not a single centimetre of air between your bodies.

“Thank you for the breakfast, honey,” You said quietly before burrowing your face into his chest, the muscle of his pecs caressing the apples of your right cheek and your arms wrapped around his neck. He let out a soft hum, letting you know that he was aware of your gratitude. After a moment of just standing there, holding each other, you felt his plush lips places a feather-light kiss on your face. Despite being married for a while, and dating for even longer, his small actions never failed to have your cheeks heat up.

Silently, you two separated and sat in your respective seats and began eating the food your doting husband had made but not before you two softly whispered “itadakimasu”. Mornings like these were always calm and serene. Perhaps for some, it would be too quiet for comfort. However, you two enjoyed starting your day this way; with gentle affection and basking in each other’s presences. Words didn’t need to fill the silence as it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, you two simply just liked being around each other. Your nearly telepathic bond was indescribable, but Osamu always found himself lucky to have found someone he was so compatible with.

It didn’t take long for you two to finish your meals, as the cook always made delicious food despite how simple or basic it may be. After you two were done, you gathered up the plates and placed them in the sink. You began to wash the dishes, including the utensils that Samu had used to cook breakfast. With your back turned to him, he took the opportunity to sneak up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s yer plans for today, my love?” he asked you, genuinely curious since you never had concrete routines. As a housewife of sorts, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted.

“Well actually, I was thinking of joining you at our store. I don’t have anything to do except laundry and clean which I could always do in the evening since it doesn’t take me too long,” You responded, resisting your urge to shrug since you didn’t want to accidentally brush off his chin that rested on you. 

“Are ya sure? I thought you’d want to-“

“Yes, I’m sure honey. Actually…” You began softly. Trailing off as you finished washing the last thing in the sink, which was the pan, and placing it on the drying rack. You dried off your hands on a tea towel before turning to face Samu and holding his face softly with both hands.

“I’m thinking since we are technically the store managers, what if we promote one of our employees to a manager? We’d get more free time to maybe work on opening another branch or free time in general. I know we’ve been talking about travelling too so… what do you think?” You asked sheepishly. While Onigiri Miya was the business you two started together, you always saw it as Samu’s business. For any business decision, you believed Osamu should have the final say as it was his pride and joy.

A smile spread wide on his face, trying his best not to squeal like a child due to his excitement. He peppered your face with kisses, his plump lips leaving a slight residue. You burst out laughing at his antics, only making his grin impossibly bigger. You let out a whine of annoyance, crying out that “You’re makin’ my face all sloppy ’n gross, Samu!”. He noticed a while back that you tend to speak in a way that mimicked his Kansai accent whenever you were overjoyed, and he loved every bit of it. 

“Well, I was just thinking more about our future… y’know? At some point we’ll need to expand which means we can’t be the only ones running the shops, we’ll need to promote employees to manager. And in the long run, it’ll give us more free time to pursue other goals apart from the shop,” You spoke, your dulcet voice captivating him while you spoke about your future with him.

He took your left hand that resided on his cheek into his own, before bringing the velvety smooth skin closer to his face. He pressed a kiss onto the wedding band you wore, the grey diamond shining due to the rays of sun that entered through the multitude of windows in your home. He remembered you saying you wanted to have grey diamonds for your wedding bands, as it reminded you so much of his hair that caught your eye back in high school. He initially hated the idea, finding it embarrassing that it was his hair of all things that caught your attention. Now, he finds the odd request endearing, as it was a reminder of him. He remembered that you made a joke about it that he was now wrapped around your finger, literally and figuratively, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout our future, hm sweetheart?” He asked with his tone indicating he was trying to tease of fluster you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour, hitting his bare pec lightly with your palm to feign annoyance. He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a sickeningly sweet kiss onto your lips, his left hand gripping your waist securely while the other held your face gently. God, he just loved kissing you. If he could, he would never pull away from you, but alas you had to. 

“I’m always thinking about our future, asshole. Before I would think about our future in terms of marrying you. Now that we’re married, I gotta think ahead. Like how we’re gonna grow old and we’ll be giving each other heart medicine,” You laughed, imagining what Samu would be like if he was old and bed ridden. He probably wouldn’t be grumpy, he never was. 

“Yeah? Well I’m thinkin’ of our future too, y’know? Like near future… like startin’ a family,” He mentioned calmly, his eyes locking with your gorgeous irises to search for any sort of reaction. Your eyes gleamed, and his heart softened.

“Yeah?” You asked for confirmation, leaning in closer, your breath tickling his face.

“Yeah,” He confirmed, closing the gap between you two and kissing you delicately.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly to break apart the kiss. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused at your actions.

“You need to be at the shop soon,” You replied, slight disappointment weighing heavy on your heart as you just wanted to relish in the moment.

“Ya said we should promote a manager, right? Mori is the first employee to come and I’ll tell him to open the shop using the spare hidden key. Consider this his first day as manager, he knows what to do. Right now, I’m busy gettin’ busy,”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” 

© 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭. 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗬 𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧. 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @dancingazaleas @izukine @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @xenihime @conniesspringersgf @fiaficsxo @s4ijohs @oblxvion @inumakizone​ @megumisbimbo

[sugawara-sweetheart]

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔢 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦 (𝔪)

❥seijoh 3rd years x fem!reader / oikawa x fem!reader

❥warnings: dubcon/noncon, manipulation, blood, multiple smut scenes, forced orgasm, begging, praise kink, voyeurism, spit-roasting and implied double penetration, slapping, degradation, free use

❥word count: 4.0k

❣︎anon: hello thereeeee :) so i was hoping to request a dark fic for the seijoh team X reader who is their manager. So early on she joins and she it and is friends with all the boys and slowly they all manipulate her into doing sexual things with them but like before anyone could try anything they had to clear it with Oikawa and Iwa. I think Oikawa would use you the most and prob be the the one to break you so u only trust him. Maybe one day Kindaichi and Kumini try to punish you and corner u in the locker room with Oikawa and you run to him clutching his shirt begging him to protect you and he’s just there with a shit eating grin and decides to show his underclassmen how to treat a woman (sorry this is so long)

based off this ask- but changed a bit + split into 2 parts for age reasons as i dont write underage characters :) 

manager of aoba johsai high- the role is one that has filled you with pride from the moment you received it in your first year of attending the prestigious school. over the next few years of being manager, the team had grown to be like your family. you’re like another addition to your fellow third years; oikawa and iwaizumi are your closest friends and matsukawa and hanamaki treat you almost like a younger sister even though you’re the same age, kyōtani is never quite so rude to you like he is to others and every day you can count on yahaba to greet you with a sweet, unique compliment. the first years look up to you like an older sister, trust you, care for you. the volleyball team are the group of people you love the most that on your eighteenth birthday when your fellow third years buy you a sweet cake with teal icing and your name scrawled in buttercream and lit the candles, when hanamaki cheers that you’re finally eighteen, the last one of them to be an adult and oikawa holds out his phone to take pictures of you, you wish to have them in your life forever.

maybe if you knew what were to come of you that night you’d never had wished for that.

oikawa starts off nice at first. he walkes you home, the back of his hand grazing against yours and a bounce in his walk that you almost start to feel that light, electrifying hope bubble inside you. it’s obvious that over the course of three years the handsome, charming captain had become extremely popular with the ladies and you’d be lying if you said a small part of you doesn’t hope that maybe he’d have an extra sparkle in his eye for you, that his heart would flutter a little bit faster when he’s around you, that the cool, collected, charismatic oikawa tōru would feel a little flustered around you. so you don’t refuse him when he stops at your doorstep, shifting his weight from side to side as he rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged a little pink under the white strobes of the streetlamp.

“it’s a bit late so i’ve messaged my dad to come pick me up from here.” he says with that charming signature smile stretched across his face. “you don’t mind if i wait inside with you, do you?” the light feeling of joy buzzes too much in you, your head spinning at the idea of your crush being alone in your home with you that you don’t even pause to wonder when he messaged his dad, his phone having been in his pocket the whole walk home.

it starts off normal enough when you take him up to your bedroom. your house is quiet with your parents still at work and oikawa has a smile tugging at his lips as he strolls around your bedroom, admiring the photographs you have on the wall and his fingers playing with the fairy lights strung around the room.

“have you enjoyed your birthday so far?” he enquires and you grin as you settle at the end of your bed, nodding.

“it was so fun! thank you so much for the cake- who’s idea was it?”

“it was mine, of course.” you roll your eyes at oikawa’s remark, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as he settles beside you, his thigh pressed against yours. you’d never been so close to him before, especially alone and as you squirm slightly you can feel his eyes piercing into you, a gleam held in his chocolate brown orbs.

“you’re eighteen now, you’re a big girl.” you chuckle as he lays down across your bed, holding himself up with his chin propped in his hand and his eyes rake over you slowly. “no longer an innocent little girl.” you’re not really sure what to say but you can’t deny there’s a suggestive lilt in his voice, one that makes your cheeks burn and your palms feel clammy as you fumble with the hem of your teal polo shirt. “have you done anything naughty yet?”

“what?” you’re laughing awkwardly but your heart thuds against your rib cage as oikawa reaches out, grazing his finger along your thigh to send shivers running down your spine.

“come on, you’re a pretty girl and you’re officially old. you must’ve done some nasty things, or maybe you haven’t? are you innocent, y/n? pure?” he laughs as you lower your head, not wanting to meet his eyes and you’re just hoping that you’ll hear a car pull up. sure, your parents won’t be pleased that you let a boy up in your bedroom but you’d rather be grounded for a weekend or have a bad scolding than be alone with oikawa for longer. but nothing. when was his dad going to come?

“have you ever touched yourself?”

“tōru, i- i don’t really like what you’re aski-”

“it’s okay if you haven’t.” oikawa beams, sitting up and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “i can help you out there.” his smile makes you feel cold and it’s no surprise- with all the fangirls trailing after him, hanging onto his every word it’s no surprise he used them to his advantage but the way he’s looking at you now makes you tense your legs, pressing them together as you clench the hem of your shirt.

“i-it’s okay-”

“no.” he’s smiling sweetly but his voice is too firm. you don’t like the feeling of his hand splaying over your thigh, gripping the soft fat but not letting go. “please, let me treat you- consider it a birthday gift.i’m your oldest friend- you’d rather do it with someone you know and trust than some stranger.” he’s grinning and you don’t know if it’s because of the dim lighting and the half-shadows of your bedroom but it looks like a horrible leer that makes your blood run cold. “i’ll take care of you. i’ll make you feel good, and you’ll never have to regret or worry about your first time ever again because it’s all done. then when you go to college you won’t have to worry about being inexperienced!” he’s almost there. he leans close, tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “you like me, right?” you’re hesitant but the way he’s studying you so closely, his eyes boring into yours, you feel naked already. so exposed. you can’t lie. you nod your head slowly and oikawa inhales sharply. “that’s what i thought. and i’ve always liked you, y/n. you’re so pretty. so can i?”

you want to say no. you want to move away, not let his lips that are ghosting yours press any harder. you wish his dad was here already, or your parents or maybe if iwaizumi had walked you home instead. but you feel so pinned under his gaze, so trapped like a rabbit caught in headlights, you only nod.

it isn’t bad. but it isn’t comfortable. oikawa kisses you too sloppily, his tongue melding with yours and drool spilling over your chin. it feels weird and foreign for his tongue to invade your mouth and his hands roam over your body too greedily, groping at your chest and hips in pinching ways that leave you squirming. he pulls off your clothes roughly and your cheeks burn with humiliation when he leaves you bare on the bed, straddling over you and spreading your legs to see everything. he fingers you first, his long limbs stretching out your walls and it hurts a little from the rough thrusts of his fingers. but then when he curls them and rubs at those sensitive spots that makes you squirm, it feels good- even better than when you’re alone. and oikawa is oddly sweet, cooing in your ear about how pretty you are and swallowing your moans with his heavy kisses and swirling your swollen clit gently and slowly till you’re finally cumming over his hand, drenching it in your slick. but that doesn’t make you any less scared, a protest dying in your throat, when he tugs off his clothes and his hard cock slaps against his stomach. he’s painfully hard and thick with precum oozing from the flushed tip. you want to pull away but from how he’s caged you underneath his body there’s nowhere to go. there’s nowhere else to look except into his cold brown eyes and your cries go unheard over his moans.

“so pretty.” he smiles as he slides his cock along your folds. it’s warm and heavy and you jerk when he taps it against your sensitive clit but he’s sweet, kissing your forehead as he edges his length towards your entrance. “i’ll take care of you so well- no one will ever make you feel this good except me.”

“tōru-” your anxious whine just makes oikawa inhale sharply before he slides his cock into you, groaning at how you bury your face in the crook of his neck and your nails rake down his back, hard enough to surely make him bleed. his cock throbs in your walls that seem to burn with the stretch and you feel so full with pressure building in the pit of your stomach.

“look how good my cock fits in your pretty little cunny. this pussy was made for me.” his teases make you whimper but he softly presses a tender kiss to your forehead before his lips meet yours in another desperate kiss. they don’t stop- tracing down your throat, the little bites stinging with possession as your soft moans fill the room, pleasure infused with pain, before his lips wrap around your pebbled nipples, sucking and nibbling and pushing you closer to the edge.

“you’re such a sweet girl,” oikawa smiles when he’s dressing himself, milky cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering as he gazes at you lying on the bed. you feel heavy, weighed down with the ropes of cum splattered across your stomach and chest, and with your heart feeling cracked with every heartbeat you can’t even move. your skin burns all over wherever oikawa touched you and scarlet pools below you, staining the bedsheets but he just smiles at you like you’re the best thing. “i’d be a fool to ever let you go.”

you’re bound to oikawa forever.

you don’t know why but after that day being stuck in school sends you into a panic. being surrounded by tall, broad strong boys every day in that vast gymnasium makes your ears ring, black spots filling your vision as your world spins. everything sounds so distant like your head is plunged underwater, and then two firm hands press on your shoulders. the clean smell of oikawa’s aftershave fills your nose, his perfume strong too, and his brown hair tickles your cheek as he leans down to you, smiling wide. everything starts to clear.

“you okay, y/n?” watari enquires, his eyes a little wide. “you seem pale.” the other boys watch you closely with intrigue, not looking so convinced even when you nod and force a shaky smile.

“just felt a bit dizzy.”

“you’ve got ro remember to take your vitamins, y/n-chan.” oikawa chastises you, but there’s a broad smirk on his face as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side. “it’s okay, you can sit here on the bench with me.” your racing heart starts to slow when he takes you to the side, sitting down beside you and resting his hand on your thigh as you watch the boys resume practise. you’ve not been the same since that night, but for some reason even then you can only cling to oikawa to make you feel okay, even when he was the first one to ruin you.

you think it would just be him. that he’d be the only one who’d let some sweet words flow from his lips and even though your mind would scream no and your heart would feel heavy, you’d still pull off your clothes and let him have his way with you, hoping the kisses and the soft cuddles afterwards would make you feel better, even though they never do.

how naïve of you.

“we’re going to iwaizumi’s house tonight.” oikawa smiles at you after practise one friday evening. you hesitate a little, glancing at your other friend who’s lips twitch into a mere smile but you can’t voice your confusion. usually oikawa’s favorite friday evening activity is fucking you into the mattress till you’re a drooling mess whether you like it or not, but this time iwaizumi is here. a small semblance of hope ignites in you- maybe you’ll just hang out as normal friends and do normal things like watching a movie like you’ve been craving for so long, that a small warm smile grows on your face as you nod happily.

“let’s get meat buns on the way home then!” you cry, turning to eagerly stuff your notepad into your bag to get out of the gym quicker. you don’t see the smiles they exchange.

iwaizumi’s house is empty when you all arrive but you’re too excited to have a fun normal time with two of your closest friends, just like old times, to notice the thick tension brewing. or perhaps you don’t want to see it. you don’t mind iwaizumi nudging closer to you as oikawa feeds you bits of pizza and you don’t shake off the vice-captain’s hand that finds its way onto your thigh, grasping it tight through your teal sweatpants. it’s only when oikawa gets to his feet that you become aware of how close iwaizumi is to you, his grey eyes piercing into you, and your heart hammers against your chest as you try to cling to oikawa’s arm.

“w-where are you going?” you squirm at the bruising grip iwaizumi holds onto your thigh, tightening when your eyes widen at the smiling captain. “d-don’t go.”

“shittykawa,” iwaizumi growls. his voice is permeated with anger, brow furrowed as he glares at his best friend. “i let you go first but not to turn her into your own personal whore.” your throat goes dry when oikawa lets his high laugh ring in the room, piercing through the throbbing in your ears as you feel your throat tighten.

“i can’t help it if girls like me better, iwa-chan.” you wince when iwaizumi hisses, his nails piercing through the fabric of your pants, but the pain fades as oikawa leans down, cupping your face gently. the malicious look on his face is anything but soothing. “be a good girl for iwa-chan. i’ll be back.”

the door snaps shut and you whine as iwaizumi pulls you onto his lap, mouthing kisses to your neck and jawline as you squirm, gripping his shoulders tight. there’s no denying the unmistakable stiffness pressing against your clothed cunt, the shifting of his hips pressing it into you.

“oikawa isn’t the only one who can treat you.” he groans, tilting your face to lock your eyes with him. you swallow hard, nodding as you’re frozen with your heart pounding against your chest, nausea churning in your stomach. “you like me too, right?”

you can’t deny iwaizumi’s hot. if there was another person you’d have fallen for on the team, it would definitely had been the ace- the funny, muscular, intimidating ace who never failed to take care of you, just like an older brother. but that was before all this, and as you nod slowly you realise he’s just the same as oikawa. you really don’t know your friends at all.

his kisses are rougher than oikawa’s, the taste of his lips bitter but the familiar scent of his cologne is all you try to focus on, trying to calm your racing heart, as he pushes you against the couch, peeling off your sweatpants. heat rushes to your cheeks as you try to press your legs together but one warning glance from iwaizumi, you force yourself to relax, blinking back tears as you stare up at the ceiling, gripping the cushion underneath you.

“that’s it, angel.” iwaizumi mutters against the soft skin of your thighs. you wonder if he’s simply ignoring how much you’re trembling as his coarse fingertips grazes along your folds. “open up for me, let me see my pretty girl.”

it isn’t awful. it isn’t as bad as your first time. it’s just your friend, it’s just iwaizumi, and oikawa wouldn’t have left you if if he didn’t trust his best friend. so you try to tell yourself it feels good when iwaizumi presses his face against your cunt, sucking your clit and licking at your wet folds whilst his fingers stretch you out, that his roughness is nice as he fingerfucks your pussy and that your orgasm isn’t entirely forced when the hot waves of pleasure crash over you exactly at the moment he demands you cum for him. his cock is thick and it burns as he stretches you out, your tears staining the soft fabric of the couch and your nails clawing at it whilst he grasps your hips, groaning as he fucks you from behind, telling you how beautiful you look dripping all over him, how well your pretty pussy takes his dick, forcing you to beg to cream all over his cock as if its something you want.

“did you both have a nice time?” oikawa smiles when he returns to the room, carrying a warm washcloth. “i really do wish i could’ve stayed and watched.”

“shut up, trashykawa.” iwaizumi spits, grabbing the cloth and you can’t help but flinch as he reaches to wipe the cum he released all over your bare back. oikawa chuckles as he crouches by the edge of the couch, his face inches away from yours and for the first time you want to spit at him. spit. yell. cry. claw the horrible satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he gazes at you like you’re nothing more than a damn pet. but you don’t. you let him kiss the tip of your nose and stroke your hair, blood ringing in your ears as your two former best friends talk about you, how good your cunt is, how tight you are, how you’re such a pretty little thing, like you’re not even there.

a pretty pet. a little plaything. a cumdump.

that’s all you’re reduced to, chained to oikawa and iwaizumi to use for their own pleasure. you’re swapped between them whenever they want- a bad practise match or an empty house, if iwaizumi’s extra annoyed at oikawa, if iwaizumi’s been hogging you too long. the rest of the team don’t notice a thing- they don’t see how you come stumbling out of the boys’ toilets after oikawa with your lips swollen and your knees weak, a far, distant look in your glazed eyes and the stains of tears drying on your cheeks. or perhaps they ignore it, just like they ignore iwaizumi’s pointed look after oikawa’s pissed him off that makes you run to his side, nodding when he tells you he’ll be walking you home tonight. or maybe it’s something else entirely, you consider when you feel the eyes burning into you at practise and you look up to see hanamaki and matsukawa staring at you from their positions on the court, smiles tugging at their lips that only they seem to understand.

makki and mattsun, as you’d endearingly used to call them, see it as a game. their laughter sounds like a manic nightmare in your pounding head when they tug you onto the floor- not even a bed, but the hard wooden floorboards of oikawa’s bedroom- and tug off your clothes. your tears stain the floorboards, nails scraping against the wood as you plead oikawa and iwaizumi. stop it. stop them. please. but your sobs go ignored and end up being muffled by mattsun forcing his cock between your lips, the leaking head bruising your throat as makki’s fingers force their way into your dry cunt.

“aw, poor baby.” oikawa coos from the other side of the room where he and iwaizumi lounge, the latter clearly sporting a hard-on. but oikawa’s brazen, not even bothering to hide how he gets off on this, watching you sob and gag with hungry eyes, stroking his cock lazily. “doesn’t she look so pretty when she cries?”

“so pretty.” sneers mattsun, slapping your tear-stained cheek that bulges lewdly with his cock stuffed in your mouth. “she looks real good taking my cock down that slutty throat.”

“wait till she’s taking not just one cock but two like a good pretty whore.” hanamaki’s hand is harsh as it slaps down onto your bare ass and your legs wrestle weakly, fingernails clawing at the floor, when he shoves his cock into you.

any other club. whether it was netball, athletics, even the fucking occults club that barely just survives with three members- anything would’ve been better than becoming the manager of aoba seijoh’s volleyball team. hamartia had crashed down onto you earlier than you expected.

your last year of high school is pathetic. the only catharsis you can find is numbness- it’s easier to push away all the dark feelings that fester inside you. whore. cumdump. slut. only good for sucking dick. you almost become immune to the words groaned at  you when they’re pounding into your cunt, fingers gripping your hair tight and tongue wet with the saliva they’d spat into your mouth. an everlasting torture. oikawa insisting on you coming round to his house, easily charming your parents and everyone else with a sweet smile so he can spend the weekend fucking your mouth or cunt- whichever he preferred. whenever he’s angry, upset, overjoyed- every emotion is bruised into your body when he uses it, soothing your sobs and pain by kissing away your tears and promising to make you cum because you’re so wet you must be enjoying it, you’re taking his cock so well, you’re so good for him. if it’s not oikawa, it’s iwaizumi’s taking he wants- demanding gruffly that he wants you. he’s always so rough, his grip bruising on your hips and your scalp burning as he tugs your hair back to leave a trace of bruises along your throat but he’s different- his sweet words afterwords aren’t laced with a malicious gleam, not like oikawa.

and of course, makki and mattsun aren’t done with you. you can always tell when it’s their turn, impended with the bright grins they flash at you or throwing their arms around your shoulders at practise. it’s funny how you look like a normal group of friends but you’re anything but- no group of friends force you into the empty locker room before a game, pushing you down onto your knees and forcing their thick lengths into your mouth one after the other till all you can taste is their cum. it’s no better after games, but you just always hope that they win so they can be nicer, they can at least make you cum after they’ve jacked off all over your teal tracksuit. but if they lose, hell swallows you in fiery flames when you’re a crying mess forced down onto two cocks ripping you apart, only your sobs are ignored for your face to get fucked.

the worse was after nationals. you’d cried with the rest of the team following their loss, when victory was snatched from their hands just as they were so close to tasting the sweetness of victory, but it wasn’t for the same reasons. it’s because you knew you were going to get ruined, be left a bruised aching cum-stained mess.

the day clubs end for the third years, you’ve never felt so much more relieved. tears of happiness well in the corners of your eyes when you’re forced into taking picturess with the team, oikawa’s grip on your arm burning but at least you’re free. free from this hell, free from him.

you never learn from being so naïve.

[teyvattherapist]

Once you write for Baal, I'll request her with Mona and Kazuha with the god of fate.

Like the usual

I also added Thoma per your other inquiry!

tags: m!reader/Baal, m!reader/Mona, m!reader/Kazuha, m!reader/Thoma, God!Reader, Khaenri'ah spoilers, Inazuma archon quest spoilers, just spoilers in general.

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

Khaenri’ah wouldn’t have had any survivors if it hadn’t been for a particular man that seemed unfazed by the battlefield the once prosperous nation of humanity became. Neither Khaenri’ahn nor from Celestia, simply an outlander. Despite showing great fighting prowess and strategic skill, Khaenri’ah had still fallen under the watchful gaze of the man. Of course, this was just a legend, a small rumour only known by the most curious of historians or academics. And even then, it’s debated. With the legacy of Khaenri’ah long gone, all that was left was anecdotal evidence.

Baal

-Divinity, humanity, both pale in comparison to eternity. You were nothing more than something in her way. Much like the rest of Khaenri’ah as a whole. To her you were nothing more than inferior. And she didn’t stop to take the time to investigate like Morax had nor did she take the time to recognise the marks of stars like Barbatos.

-Her ideals quickly shattered when she realised Divine Punishment means nothing when faced by another of her status. A divine being capable of braving the lightning’s glow. Too prideful to admit her defeat she proved to be quite a thorn in your side during the war. But even one whose ideal is closest unto Heaven cannot compete with the one who controlled Fate.

-Baal has all but forgotten the faraway God, too focused on her own ideals, too focused on herself in the present day to remember such an aimless point in time. In a closed off nation tucked away on the sea, talk of your presence in Teyvat went unheard by the Raiden Shogun.

The 100th vision hunt decree ceremony was commemorative. The Goddess turned to face the crowd of onlookers, violet eyes narrowing at an almost familiar face standing towards the back. You lifted your head to her, flashing the Shogun a smile before pulling the notebook from the black and gold cloak. Almost too quickly her attention turned back to the man kneeling at the foot of the statue. Her 100th vision.

Baal lifted her hand, summoning the pyro vision to her and despite the blond’s attempts at keeping his vision they were futile as it soared through the air towards the Goddess. You almost dropped your pen when Aether pushed by you, using his newfound electro abilities as a boost to snatch the vision. An interesting but not surprising turn of events that was scrawled into the notebook.

You watched as she brought her blade up to strike an unconscious Aether. The taller blond managed to get his binds off, throwing the polearm that she then deflected. The blowback caused Aether and Paimon to go flying backwards into the blond. As they ran off she gave the order to seize them under the decree, turning back to look up at the statue. That was your cue to leave, the work had been done for now.

When Baal turned to look back at the crowd she got the glimpse of that cloak that seemed to come back to haunt her departing from the crowd.

Mona

-Ah the great astrologist Mona. One who believes fate cannot be changed nor reversed, merely accepted. How funny an outlook. Though you’d never tell her that, she is for all that she’s worth, a wonderful astrologist. But that was the thing with mortal magicians, even they could get things such as fate wrong.

-She tried only once to glimpse into the mysterious stranger’s destiny. But when one has no destiny, what does she see? The threads of fate themselves have barred her vision into him. To her he is an uncertain piece in what should be absolute certainty.

-This however just makes her curious to know more. She thinks she’s being sneaky as she follows you around to try and garner more information. But Mondstadt isn’t all that big and her hat is very telling.

You narrowed your eyes at the telltale sign of somebody watching you, you lifted your head to look around but there were no more stares than the usual ones that came with being a stranger in a small nation. You did notice, however, a very familiar witch occupying herself with the fruit stand. Could she even afford that? Probably not. You bowed your head to Flora, tucking the windwheel aster behind your ear as you made off.

Mona put the apple back, waiting a few moments before she followed you down the cobblestone path. This was the problem with magicians in every world, always far too curious for their own good. You turned a corner to try and get her off your tail, you had far too much work to do to deal with her nosing around. She was smart, though. You had to give her that as you pressed your back against the wall of the alleyway, waiting for her to go by.

“I just have a question!” Mona popped her head into the alleyway, figures you wouldn’t be able to escape her. Mona looked around before stepping into the alleyway. “You are not from this world and sand clouds my vision every time I try to view your true nature. I am merely intrigued by this turn of events.” She put her hands on her hips, green eyes trying to discern something about you. She was certainly blunt, at least she knew what she wanted at the end of the day.

Her stare was intense as she tried to see through you, but whenever she looked too hard she found herself attempting to shake off invisible strings. You merely offered her a smile, what’s the point in lying to somebody you may not ever see again? “I’m a record keeper of sorts. You have impressive skill, Mona.” The compliment had her smirking, praise would be her undoing. But it at least changed the subject. What a fascinating woman.

Kazuha

-Unsurprisingly or perhaps surprisingly you met him while he fled from the Raiden Shogun’s forces. As in he ran directly into you and nearly dropped the dead vision he was still clutching in his hand. Interesting isn’t it? What a simple change of cloak can do to conceal one’s identity. Always intervening whether or not you should, that seemed to be the staple when it came to Teyvat.

-You did not spend much time with Kazuha beyond that. His path was his to walk and you would not meddle further. Though you knew that he knew, somebody as observant as he would be able to tell, wouldn’t he?

-That was a while ago though. Now you once more found yourself face to face with Kaedehara Kazuha. Or well, less face to face and more in the same area.

“I hope you can afford all these mercs!” Beidou called as she and her crew rushed into battle against the Shogun’s forces. Far enough away to not involve yourself, but close enough to listen to the resulting conversations. You jotted things down, whatever seemed important in the moment, minor details you may forget, a rough draft, if one will.

Kazuha lifted his head after greeting Gorou, eyes scanning the rocks jutting out of the nearby sea on the beach that had become a location of endless bloodshed. And for a moment, he faltered, red eyes widening before narrowing. He should have expected this. You always seemed to be where big things happened. “Kazuha, watch out!” Beidou warned and Kazuha snapped out of it, returning to the battle.

The rain began to start and you safely tucked your notebook away as you watched the rest of the battle. Ultimately Sara called back her forces when Kokomi showed up, the Shogun’s army quickly retreating from the bloody battlefield to rethink their strategy. You held your hand up, rain soaking through your glove. The battlefield cleared itself of most soldiers, Gorou, Beidou, Kazuha, two soldiers, and Aether remained to talk to one another.

Kazuha turned, looking over his shoulder and back at the sea around him. He wondered if you’d come, help like you had helped him back then. He lifted a bandaged hand, no doubt the same hand you had once given him bandages to cover the injury from clasping a dying vision. In turn you gave him a wave. All these people whose lives you have impacted in some way or another. Small things here and there. You wondered how much he knew of your deeds.

Thoma

“State your business here!”

“Oh- he’s a friend! He’s with us.” Aether interrupted the teahouse lady before she could say anything else. The woman huffed but conceded, allowing you to move past her and towards Aether and the taller blond from the ceremony. The teahouse door was opened and you stepped inside with them, pulling your notebook out to take notes. “Thoma, Ayaka this is… Well he doesn’t have a name.” Aether turned his head to look at you and you merely shrugged.

“You may refer to me as the Recordkeeper. Ha, that’s kind of like the Doctor.. I’ll have to write that down.” You make a note in the front of your notebook. Ayaka, Thoma, and Paimon look confused but Aether understood the reference. At least. “I’m merely here to listen. Pretend I’m not here, yes?” And with reassurance from your traveler friend, they did just that. You noted their plans, their ideals, where they’d go. It was all fascinating. A resistance against a God. The last time that happened…

You shook the thoughts, that was then, this is now. You cannot get involved again. Ayaka stood to leave, saying her goodbyes. Aether was gone next, a promise to meet again. That left you with Thoma. “Are you sure you don’t have a name? I feel a job title shouldn’t be a name.” He joked, leaning on his elbows as he watched you write into your notebook. Your pen stopped against the pages, the edge of the D growing thicker. “At least, I think that’s your job, right?”

You looked up from your book, setting the pen down against the pages. He was curious to say the least, despite everything that happened earlier. “I suppose it is my job, yes. I keep records. And I’m known by many names Fate Weaver, the Recordkeeper, God of Fate, I believe I’ve also been referred to as the God of Time once.. That’d be incorrect though.” For a moment something unrecognisable passes through his green eyes before his smile is back on his face.

“How about we call you (Name)? That way you don’t have to admit what and who you really are everywhere you go.”

“(Name)? Hm.. Very well.”