#reached the point where i truly don’t care what my gender ‘is’ at all

[boundinparchment]

Slow, Love, Slow

“Sunday. Please look at me.” He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then looked at you, eyes scanning your face. He cast aside the papers to the coffee table without glancing away. “Do you even know that you’re doing it, my love?” you asked. In which you and Sunday discuss his habit to pay too much attention to his wings under stress. Sunday/Gender neutral reader, established relationship. TW/CW: Contains plucking of feathers as a form of self-harm. While this meant to be a fic from a caring point-of-view, if this topic is difficult for you, please don’t read. Rated Mature to be safe.

On AO3 here.

At first, you thought it was a trick of the light and that his wings were merely ruffled from stress. The gap wasn’t too noticeable, the top layer looked a little thinner. It wasn’t until you noticed more tiny feathers near his mirror in the closet or in the bathroom that you considered, perhaps, something else.

He’d been so focused on the preparations that he hasn’t been sleeping enough. Even your time together was a compromise: reading a report next to you on the sofa and occasionally explaining every time he scoffed or muttered. Of course, he only ever shared so much with you because none of this was for you to worry about.

Sunday was wrong, only in that you were worried about him and always would be.

Another evening, you were relaxing next to him, and you watched his bare hand idly go to one wing as he read. He smoothed, preened, but then seemed to fixate on one spot, over and over. You reached over and took his hand gently, and he looked up, blinking at you like he only just realized you were there.

“Do you want to talk about what you’re reading?” you asked.

“It’s…not particularly interesting. Budget proposals for each Branch. Some of these just seem…superfluous. The Oak Family has final say but Alfalfa will be…adamant in negotiations, asking where the extra funds will be pulled from…”

Something crossed his face as his wings flexed and that’s when you spotted it.

It was a gap most wouldn’t have spotted, one he no doubt spent an extraordinary amount of time trying to fill. A primary feather, towards the smaller secondaries and a little less prominent. He’d once told you that, although Halovians weren’t birds, some of the same principles applied; his feathers molted, they helped regulate his balance alongside his more human-like traits, and any major changes to them would have lasting effects for months, if they ever truly recovered. Even if they were trimmed for fashion, it was never beyond a certain length.

He gave you the congenial smile he gave everyone and your lips trembled. Why was he lying to you? Or did he not recognize this as…

Adeptly, he moved his hand to take yours and kiss it.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’ll grow back in time. Please don’t worry.”

When he looked away from you, your hand yours again and eyes back on the papers as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience, you carefully reached over.

It probably hurt to move that wing now, because of the picking. He was always handsome, and it wasn’t so much the gap you cared about as his comfort and wellbeing…he had been candid that he struggled with balancing his workload, but this…

“Sunday. Please look at me.”

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then looked at you, eyes scanning your face. He cast aside the papers to the coffee table without glancing away.

“Do you even know that you’re doing it, my love?” you asked.

Sunday sighed, considering your words.

“Sometimes. Other times, all I can think of is how the feathers aren’t laying right, they didn’t molt properly, and it bothers me so much that I…” he paused, looking towards his wing, wordlessly finishing his sentence.

“I know you’re under pressure and I can’t do much except help so you don’t have to think about anything else,” you started. “But it hurts to see you in pain like that.”

“I’m sorry. You won’t have to see—“

His knee-jerk reaction was to apologize and fix; you hadn’t lived with him for years at this point without experiencing that first hand. You cupped his cheek, mindful of his wing, and brushed your thumb along his lower lashes.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to; you’re the one who experiences the consequences. Your wings are special. If they’re in pain, I can’t touch them, and I want to be able to do that. Can we see if there’s a way to keep your hands busy, so you don’t feel like plucking?”

Sunday shifted on the sofa, his hands seeking yours and holding, clinging even, as he kept his gaze down. He brushed his thumbs over your knuckles and leaned his head into your other hand. At times, he reminded you of a cat, and you resisted the urge to touch his other wing, a little healthier than its brethren. They were sensitive, and depending on context, you were able to lull him to sleep or keep both of you up all night.

Only you could touch them. Even that only came after years together.

They were important to you.

Sunday was important to you.

“I’m sorry for what you’re dealing with,” you whispered. “Please take care of yourself a little more.”

He pulled and you immediately relented, melting forward to lean into him as he arranged himself along the length of the sofa. Instinctively, you curled up, and nestled him between you and the back of the couch. Sunday buried his face in the curve of your neck, one wing carefully folded as the other extended to caress your cheek.

“I will, beloved.” His promise was implicit, steady and unwavering. “I love you.”

You stroked the back of his head and then carefully traced his wing bone, soft and gentle. The way he taught you how to pet a Charmony Dove.

“I love you, too, Sunday.”

[jeremywhitley]

Here we are, six weeks later...

HEY!

So, in case you haven’t heard, our six week run on Love Unlimited following Gwenpool wrapped up today and...

and as much as I did write all of this and it is extremely important to me, I feel I really need to make sure you all know that this didn’t start with me.

To be completely accurate, it started with Chris Hastings and crew for creating such an amazing and nuanced character out of what could have only ever been a high concept and a cover gag. Not that the cover gag wasn’t good, but the statue that is revealed from that piece of marble over the course of The Unbelievable Gwenpool is truly astonishing.

Then, of course, there’s you. An audience of fans with an incredible love and passion for a character who also saw a lot of the quirks and experiences that we as people on the asexual spectrum experience and talked about it online.

Which is where the incredible @alannawrites, my editor, comes in. Alanna had been looking for an opportunity to tell a story about being ace in Marvel comics. We had kind of skimmed around the edges during Unstoppable Wasp, but ultimately being a character who owed so much to a movie franchise, there were a lot of nerves there. Gwen was not only a great opportunity to tell a story of a person hyper aware that they are in a story struggling with the tropes that affect their actual life, it was a chance to bring about this story for a character a lot of the fandom already saw as ace. Obviously, not everybody, but still a lot.

So when editorial game to okay to tell this story, Alanna reached out to me - somebody she’d worked with but also specifically had just had their own little coming out as demisexual a little while back. I was thrilled by the idea and before long we brought on @bailiesartblog and Kelly and had a full creative team of people on the ace spectrum. This is easily the first time that’s ever been a thought.

For me it was important that it not just be a story of coming out, but that it be a Gwenpool story. A story of knowing how stories work, what tropes you can play with, trying to direct the story where you think it should go, and ultimately finding that the story just won’t comply. And for people who have experienced being on the ace spectrum or a lot of other marginalized genders and sexualities - that’s a very familiar problem.

Ultimately, it’s different from a lot of other Gwenpool stories because it’s not the world around her. She has 2-3 real working possibilities for romantic relationships in this story and one that is about to become a fully adult sexual relationship with a woman whom she really loves before it skips the tracks. Ultimately, it’s not a thing from the 616 that’s holding her back, it’s a thing she brought with her from the real world - her sexuality - and no matter how worthy you are, you can’t beat that with a hammer.

There’ll be lots of time to talk about this later, but along with her actually saying the words and waving the flags above, one of the sequences that’s most important to me is the opening sequence of issue 6

This is the problem sometimes with being story tellers. When you think you know the story, realizing you’re not who you thought you are can feel like maybe you’re a villain. Maybe you’re a monster. Maybe you don’t belong here.

Some people on the internet seem to have decided to misinterpret this sequence as us comparing being asexual to being a monster, when very clearly that’s Gwen doing it. I’m just going to assume they’ve never had the experience of struggling to understand themselves and where they fit. Sounds fake, but whatever.

I love this FF story. I love Ben Grimm. I love this cover and that was why I gave my art team the truly unenviable task of recreating it. Like, I don’t know if you’ve been there, but I certainly have and I’d wager that most of us have at some point.

But perhaps the most important image in this scene is the next one:

Julie sees her friend, her girlfriend, the person that she cares about spiraling and literally yoinks her right out of the frame.

And sits her down and talks to her about it. And listens to her about it. And when she starts asking questions that Julie can’t answer, she finds Gwen somebody who can.

And that is an incredible gift to give to someone. And yeah, maybe we should all do that for each other, but man is it hard. Julie for one is in a multi-month relationship with this girl that just told her that not only was she lying about being ready to have sex with her, but that she didn’t actually like kissing her and has been faking enjoying some aspects of their relationship. You wanna think you would still be there for this person, but that’s a lot to handle and it takes a lot to be the person Julie is in this moment. But, personally, I love Julie Power and I think she’s the kinda person to stick with it.

And ultimately I think this scene is so important to me because I hope this book is our opportunity to be Julie Power to somebody reading this story. I hope someone who is going through a hard time or struggling with how to define themselves will find this story and it can be the hands that pull them out of the cover of Fantastic Four 51 when they need it. Maybe that’s a lot to hope for a comic, but it’s really the ambition I think the team went into this comic with. We want to tell a story about an aroace character coming to terms with who they are and learning to accept and be comfortable with it, but ultimately we hope this story gets to someone out there when they need it and makes the difference.

Well, this has gone really long and I’m sure there will be other things I wanna say about it later, but until then take care of yourselves and hopefully you’ll get the chance to be someone’s Julie Power.

P.S. - Julie, you’re amazing and I’m sure we will find a romance for you that works out eventually. Sorry that we’ve collectively now put you through three breakups.

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

The Gorge

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DN

Airbase. 

That’s the priority. That's why the 501st had retreated away from the capital. 

A fucking airbase.

You could see it in the distance from where you were. The tall tower was clearly marked by a bright pillar of light that reached towards the clouds.

As Fives, Krell and Rex inspected the area on a cliffside, you and Kix weaved around the men, treating any injuries you saw. Sadly, painkillers were getting to low levels, so you decided to use them for the truly brutal wounds. For those you had to deem were suffering beyond comprehension.

You regretted using them on yourself. 

But, everyone else…well, they were big boys. They just had to handle it. Judging by the uninterested look that Hardcase had while Kix stitched up his shoulder, you were confident that the men weren’t going to complain. 

Your gaze swept over the battalion. The dark, tentacle-like trees had fanned out from the jungle, allowing an easier view of the soldiers. You counted the silhouettes, their white and blue armor stark against the ash colored ground. 

By the end you were right. A majority of the battalion had been injured in some way. Wounds were expected. But this many…It was getting hard to keep up, and judging by the way Kix swayed slightly when he stood, he was feeling the same thing.

“Alright men, we’re splitting the battalion,” Rex called, getting everyone at attention, “Half of you will remain here. The other half, follow me down to the gorge.”

You sighed and watched them go. Your tired steps were about to go to your medical speeder, but Krell halted you, “Doctor, you will be going with them.” He stepped between you and your goal, which was to resupply.

“Respectfully, sir,” you looked up into his small yellow eyes, “I think it would be better if I remained here and-.”

“My orders are for you to go with the platoons down to the gorge.” the besalisk crossed two of his four arms, surprisingly, he wasn’t yelling at you. Instead, his tone was icy and yet uninterested, “I’ve seen how you are during battle, and your expertise is wasted as a backline medic. You will be with the men on the front.”

You blinked and nodded. Was that a compliment? 

“Understood, sir.” you saluted with your uninjured arm and followed the platoon. At this point, arguing with him about your training would only result in a bad outcome.

You found your position next to Kix, who looked very unhappy to see you, “please don’t tell me…” 

“He complimented me,” you gave a sarcastic smile, “Said my expertise was wasted by not being on the front.”

Before Kix could respond, Rex began to speak, getting all the attention onto him, “Alright listen up!” His voice held authority with every word, “We’ll assemble the squads into two divisions. We’ll move straight up this gorge to the airbase on the far side.”

The medic beside you snapped, “The casualties are going to be high!” 

Tup scoffed, “Is Krell trying to get us killed!?”

“You know, I wasn’t sure that Krell was crazy before.” Jesse snarled, helmet in his hand. He practically glared at Rex as he continued, “But now, I’m positive!”

“We had to retreat from the capital because the general pushed a flawed strategy!” It was Fives’ turn to argue, “Now this?”

Hardcase raised his heavy weapon, “I don’t know! Could be fun.”

“Well, I, for one, agree with the general's plan.” Dogma chimed in, seeming much more confident than anyone else. 

“What plan?” You turned to face him, “Blindly rushing into the unknown without a care for the costs isn’t a plan!” Your words might’ve struck Rex, truthfully, you couldn’t look at him to find out. 

You had all the faith in him. You just had no faith in Krell or his tactics. But arguing would seem like you were against your lover and not the temporary General.

“We are running out of time and this is the best option!”

Jesse spoke up again, royally pissed, “No recon? No air support? We don’t know what we’re up against!” He waved his helmet in the air in frustration, “They have weapons we’ve never seen before!” To punctuate his point, he tapped his helmet to his head a couple of times. 

The 501st captain stepped forward, attempting to reason with everyone, “A few of General Skywalker’s plans seemed reckless too, but they worked.”

His words did little to ease the rising tempers, “Yeah, but General Skywalker is usually leading his men up in the front not bringing up the rear like General Krell!” Fives stepped towards Rex, riling up everyone else, “A full frontal assault would leave us too exposed!”

The other men rose up in dissatisfied chatter. They were clearly unhappy with the plan.

“We have to look at other options!”

“It's going to be a meat grinder!”

Rex sighed, frustration clear, “Fives.” He commanded the ARC trooper to follow. The two stepped away, out of earshot. 

“What supplies do we have?” Kix turned to face you, “This…is going to be difficult.”

Wordlessly you took off your pack and knelt to go through the packs you carried. Luckily the both of you stocked up as well as you could from everything on the medical speeder. But it never hurts to check. 

Bandages and bacta were the most needed, and hopefully, you had enough to see this through.

You attempted to get your pack back on by lifting it with your bad arm, only to drop it and hiss in pain. 

“Damnit.” you swallowed, feeling the very bone pulse in agony. It’s only been a few hours since you were shot. Your arm was nowhere near healed. 

Kix put a hand on your uninjured shoulder to hold you steady, “Take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, adjusting your pack, “The men have survived worse than this. How would it look if I burst into tears every time I get hurt?” 

“Nearly getting your arm blasted off isn’t just ‘getting hurt’. If you need a break, the others will understand.” He argued softly.

You shook your head, “And what about you? You’ve been unsteady on your feet from exhaustion for hours and yet you still run around helping those who are wounded.”

“Only because you’ve been taking a majority of them.” Kix responded, though he didn’t argue with your point. 

“Are you two done?” Dogma snapped from his position, “We’re about to start moving.”

“Hey, Dogma, have you considered shutting the fuck up?” An ARF trooper, Jumper, leaned forward on his AT-RT to silence the ground soldier, “How about you don’t pick a fight with the two people keeping all of us alive.”

“Hey-!”

“Everyone, enough.” Jesse finally stepped in to get everyone quiet, “Now is not the time or the place.” A mere minute later instructions were given. 

You’d go with Rex and his half of the platoon. Kix would go with Fives and Hardcase and their half. 

Splitting up…wonderful idea. There’s no way that could ever go wrong. 

You hung back, keeping your position behind a majority of the men. Noct and Nax, however, were walking on either side of you. As if they were intending to guard you from threats. Your nod to them was in appreciation as both platoons marched forward slowly and carefully. 

Three of those flying beasts that attacked on the main road flew overhead. They didn’t make a dive or move towards anyone on the ground. Instead, you’d think they were fleeing something.

A rapidly approaching rumble cut off your thoughts. The ground was shaking, and it was only getting worse. Nax grabbed your wrist to keep you steady as the vibrations got stronger and louder. Even the AT-RT’s were unstable from the sheer power of the sway.

You raised your comm and began to speak, “Kix, what is going-.”

In the distance, you heard the commotion. Shouting. Booms. It sounded like something was…howling? 

Everything around you was shaking violently, and Kix finally responded, “We’re under attack!”

Without wait, Rex diverted off the original path to aid his brothers. You all ran as quickly as you could despite the dark, dense plant life that hindered your movements. Once you made it over the ridge, you paused, taking in the battle.

Chaos. Chaos and mayhem. At the center of it all, was a tank in the shape of a centipede, marked with blue lights. It roared before slamming down, killing all soldiers under its massive body. 

“Get those rocket launchers down there! Move it troopers!” Rex commanded, pistols in hand and immediately running to aid the soldiers.

The blaster guns that ran down the centipede tanks back were firing in all directions, making it difficult to maneuver or navigate. Still, you managed to get close enough while remaining behind the cover of a massive tree and its roots.

One of the green shots hit Jumper’s AT-RT, killing him in a burst of neon flames.

Another name to your list.

“Watch out!” The ARF trooper next to you called as another tank shot up from the ground. He was hit almost instantly, knocking down from his vehicle. immediately your hands were on him and dragging him behind cover. 

“I got you, Dia.” you reassured, pulling off his helmet.

Pupils uneven. Head injury. Concussion. Watch for seizures or signs of stroke. Traumatic brain injuries were difficult to deal with in such a chaotic environment, but you did what you could with the supplies you have. 

One of the tanks swung its massive head, slamming into one of the troopers that had a much needed rocket launcher. He hit the ground, but curled his body to protect the precious weapon. Once the Umbaran tank turned to continue its destruction, Kix leapt out from the black and red foliage. Thank whatever gods decided to keep him alive!

He grabbed the trooper just as Hardcase got the rocket launcher. You rushed out to join him, taking hold of one of the troopers shoulders, “Follow me!” You shouted, leading the medic to your position of cover hidden in the dense trees. When you returned, there were already several more injured that were taking refuge.

Behind you, there was another explosion. The now headless tank roared before it melted into a screech. Its massive silver and blue body twisted and spasmed as every section burst into flames and destruction. You spotted Fives and Hardcase sprinting to avoid getting hit by its thrashing legs.

Rex called out, tone commanding yet anxious, “Everyone regroup, now! Take cover!” 

The platoons scattered, fleeing into the dark and foggy forest. Luckily the thick trunks and roots of the red, glowing trees were condensed enough the tanks couldn’t push through. 

“Move it! Move it!”

“Let's go!”

“Go! Go! Go!”

You swallowed and looked up at Rex. He was breathing heavily, but still standing. However, you didn’t miss the blood on his wrist. 

You reached into a small pack on your thigh and took out clean bandages as you approached. He would always opt for bandages and not bacta. At every battle, if he got hurt, he’d reject the medicine, saying ‘save it for the next soldier you treat.’ So you’ve learned to just accept his selflessness and use standard first-aid supplies if the wounds weren’t so bad.

“We’re safe for the moment, but they’ll be coming around any second,” He continued to lead the men, not stopping even when you grabbed his wrist and began to bandage it up, “Bring up the launchers, spread detonators along that corridor. Trap them in the bottleneck.” The captain nodded in appreciation once you finished your work. He continued, “We’re going to blow those things sky high.”

Fives rushed past you to a soldier, Hana, who carried explosives in a large pack. He grabbed several of the bombs before running with the other to the narrow part of the gorge. Several others followed the ARC trooper. 

You remained with the injured, just like Kix. Your focus was on the trooper, Hek, in your arms working to stem the bleeding on his chest. However, no matter what you tried, he slipped away under your hands.

Hek. One more death to blame on Krell.

Your priority shifted to Silk, who had sat down and waited patiently with a bleeding, smoldering neck and shoulder wound. Either he was the most patient man in existence, or mentally gone. It didn’t matter though, because you began to patch him up, using whatever you could to save him.

After a few moments, the ground shook violently again, causing you to hold him close to your chest to protect. From the direction of where the men placed bombs, you heard the booms and crackles of their explosives detonating. The tanks they destroyed howled and wailed as it sounded like they crashed into one another, ripping each other apart.

Soldiers had run back to your position to take cover from the resulting explosions. Hardcase dove to your right, getting behind the massive root protecting everyone from the fire. Rex, who was thrown from the force of the bombs, landed on his front right next to you and Silk. Fives and Jesse stumbled, also hitting the dirt after getting shoved by the burst of heat and flames. 

It was a few seconds later when your ears were blessed with silence. Seemed everyone was waiting for…something. Another attack? Or just appreciating the brief moment of calm.

The captain got onto one knee, turned his head to you, and his shoulders slumped slightly with relief, “Good job.” he stood, addressing his men, “Be ready to move out in five.”

Five minutes to rest.

Hardly enough time for you and Kix to tend to all those that were sporting injuries, but you could at least handle the more serious cases. And in those five minutes, despite your best efforts….

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Jumper. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo.

You added a few more names to the list of the dead.

[salty-croissants]

Crumbling Walls ( Rayman x g/n reader )

I’ve been imagining this scenario very often lately , where the reader comforts Rayman after he gets basically fired from his job … I just really want him to be happy , those scenes of his always break my heart fr :,I 

I apologize for the possible ooc moments and generally not so good writing … hope this still turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

friends to lovers ;

presence a few suggestive elements as well as mature topics such as mentions of alcohol and drugs , and occasional swearing ( if any of these make you uncomfortable not reading this is advised ! ) 

A long sigh escaped Rayman’s mouth , as he put down his sixth wine bottle … or was it the seventh … ? At this point , he couldn’t even tell anymore . 

That whole situation felt so unreal , and deep down he was hoping that maybe , just maybe , it was all just a dream , and that he was going to wake up in his bedroom and then head to work on his shows like always … 

… but he knew that wasn’t possible . Not anymore , not after what he did just a few hours ago . 

Rayman took a deep breath , getting up from the couch to grab another bottle to drown his sorrows in , when suddenly the damaged screen of his television lit the room up in a blinding white light …

< … the hell’s this ? > 

Who could be calling him at such a late hour ? 

Was it the Board of Directors ? 

Maybe they wanted to apologize to him for what had happened ? 

Unlikely … he had spoken to one of them not that long ago and the conversation hadn’t gone well , as the hole on the screen demonstrated … 

But when his blurry vision managed to make out the name of the caller , his tired eyes widened …

< Y/n ? > 

< Rayman - I’m so sorry I didn’t manage to talk to you sooner ! 

It’s been such a busy day and I just managed to find a minute to call you after work ! 

I just … wanted to know how you were doing , after … all that’s gone down tonight . > 

Hearing your voice resonating through the room made him feel … oddly at peace , as he staggered closer to the television .

You were one of the few people he truly felt at ease with : you were always so kind , with a strong opposition against any discrimination toward hybrids as well as a strong sense of justice … 

The fact that you had chosen to reach out to him despite having just finished work , simply to know how he was doing … that thought alone was enough to make Rayman’s heart skip a beat .

 < I … I don’t know … ‘m just … tired . Been difficult to deal with this , and … > 

He let out a nervous chuckle , trying to keep his trembling voice steady with no avail . 

< … I don’t even know if this CAN be fixed , y’know … ? > 

You remained silent for a moment , before saying something that Rayman really didn’t expect …

< … would you like me to come over to your place ? To keep you company … ?

I perfectly understand if you want to be alone right now , I get it , but - > 

< That’d … that’d be really great , y/n . > 

< Oh - okay , I’ll be there as soon as possible , hopefully the traffic isn’t a nightmare like always … I’ll see you soon ! > 

As the call ended , the kindness of his long time friend made a little smile appear on his exhausted face . 

You were even willing to drive all the way to his lounge , just to be there for him … Rayman could barely believe that someone so selfless and caring could actually exist . 

He sat on the couch after lazily picking up some of the bottles and junk on the floor , staring at the ceiling and just silently waiting for you to arrive …

When he heard the much anticipated knock on the door , he stumbled on the floor , doing his best to keep his balance as he got a hold of the knob and opened it : 

you were there , looking like you had been in quite a rush to get to the lounge as quickly as possible .

< Hey *sigh* Rayman … hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long … > 

He couldn’t help but chuckle a little , as he allowed you to enter his place .

< ‘s alright , you didn’t . Sorry about the mess , by the way … I tried to clean up before you got here but … > 

< That’s okay , don’t worry about it . > 

It was the moment that you entered his place that you realized just how bad this whole thing was : judging by the wine bottles everywhere and the suspicious ( luckily still unopened ) powder on the table , it was clear that being thrown out from his beloved show had destroyed Rayman in more ways than one .

You followed him to the couch , your feet occasionally bumping into the glass bottles , and then sat next to him in silence , listening to the distant sounds of the cars wandering the busy streets below …

You weren’t quite sure of what to say , but after a moment you heard Rayman chuckle …

< Crazy , isn’t it ? Just yesterday everything was normal … just … standing there in the spotlight , discussing the news , nothing out of the norm … then one day you wake up and it’s all gone , all because you tried standing up to some asshole talking shit ‘bout your species … > 

You could see his hands tightening in a fist as he thought back about what the leader of the Niji 6 had said to him .

< You had every right to be upset , Rayman . He’s the one who went out of line , not you … I always did think Red was kind of a douchebag , not gonna lie . > 

He glanced at you , then sighed , one of his hands going through his once well kept blonde hair .

< Hm … well it’s not like that matters , anyway : he won . 

I lost the one thing , the ONE good thing I had going for me … 

I just … I got nothing now . Nothing at all . I … I am nothing . > 

Rayman wheezed , covering his face as the weight of the situation finally begun to crush him …

You stared at him with a worried expression : in all the years you two have known each other , you have never seen him so completely and utterly broken … 

< Rayman , that’s not … > 

< What ? You’re gonna tell me that there’s still something I can do ? 

Y/n , take a good look at me : I’m . A pathetic . Fucking . MESS ! 

Where do I go from here , huh ? What can I even do ?? > 

He stood up , barely able to keep his balance , and you caught his hand before he could fall on the floor … 

As your eyes met , there wasn’t a trace of pity or disgust in your gaze , and Rayman was just … confused by this . 

< I am looking at you , and I gotta tell you I see none of the things you just mentioned . Not one . > 

You helped him get back to the couch , and gently but firmly placed your hands on his shoulders .

You could feel him shaking … 

< You will always have value to me , regardless if Eden sees you as their star or not …

I know that right now it feels like everything is against you , but destroying yourself over this … > 

You glanced at the wine bottles scattered all around the lounge .

< … it’s just not worth it , Rayman . 

I’m sure we can think of something , but right now I just think that you need to get some rest : it’s the middle of the night , and you look exhausted … > 

You could feel him staring at you , and when your eyes met your heart skipped a beat as you realized just how close you were right now … 

< … we … ? > 

< Y … yeah , of course ! I know there isn’t really much I can do , but … I just wanna be there and help you out , it’s frankly the least I could do for - mm … ? > 

Before you could finish talking Rayman leaned forward , and the moment his lips met yours you froze for a few seconds before slowly closing your eyes , giving into the kiss .

You could feel his hands getting a hold of your waist , and when you caressed his hair he let out a soft groan before holding you even closer to him …

After a few minutes that felt like hours , the two of you finally pulled away , catching your breaths while staring into each other’s eyes …

< Y/n … > 

< Rayman … ? > 

He snuggled closer , placing his head against your chest while still holding you in his arms , almost like he was afraid that if he let you go you would vanish .

< Could … could you stay here tonight ? If you want to of course … 

It’s just … being with you … feels nice … you’re … nice … > 

Rayman sounded more and more tired , and it was clear that he was going to pass out from exhaustion any minute now … 

You smiled softly , giving him a kiss on the forehead before lifting him from the couch and walking upstairs to his room . 

He wasn’t the only one who needed some rest …

It had been a long day for both of you .

[fiona-my-love]

Hi there lovely! How are you? How have you been? I just saw your post about angst thingy, so I thought if I could request Lucifer(hazbin hotel) x angel!Fem!Reader.

Basically Angel! Fem! Reader and angel Lucifer were together in heaven until when Lucifer went to hell. Angel! Fem! Reader couldn't do anything about that (you can add the reason). When years have passed, Angel! Fem! Reader finally had a chance to go and meet again with Lucifer. When she goes to the hell(you can add something like, what has she gone through just to meet him) and meets Lucifer in the Hazbin Hotel, she sees his wife and his daughter. When they both saw each other, she broke down and went outside followed by Lucifer trying to make her stay for a moment to make him explain.

(Idk what about the end, but you can add that the angel! Fem! Reader is happy that Lucifer is happy with his family etc)

Thank you! Have a lovely day/night!! Take care ^^

Lucifer x Angel! reader angst oneshot.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OH MY GOD. Also, just a reminder: I don’t do gendered readers. Thanks!

Today was finally the day. After all this time, all these centuries.

“Lucifer!” You cried out.

He tried to grab your hand, but it was too late. He had done the ultimate sin, and he was going to pay the price. You watched in utter horror as your lovers wings were ripped apart, the cracking and blood-curdling scream were unbearable.

You would finally see him again.

You knew exactly where he had gone, exactly what he had become. So, you made the journey. What you didn’t know is you would be greeted with the sight of him right away, and not just him, but what looked to be his family.

You didn’t know what to do. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, but he pushed it away. “I.. I’m sorry. You’re truly amazing, but.. I moved on.” He sighed. You felt bittersweet, you had waited all this time just for this. But, at the same time, he was happier like this. And if you truly loved him, you would respect him and his new life.

“Listen,” you sniffled. “I’m just glad you’re happy after all this time, darling..” He looked at you sympathetically, but his face turned bitter. “Don’t call me that.” he spoke, distain on his tongue. You were taken aback, but it was understandable. What you had was in the past now.

But that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. It felt like it was just yesterday the two of you were as close as could be, love’s purest form. You two were made for each other, but the world ripped it away from you without a second thought. It was cruel, but with a heavy heart, you knew you had to accept it. He was with someone else now. Your lives were once intertwined, but they had drifted away. You two were so different from what you used to be, at some point you hit a tear line.

It was hard to accept it, but it was all you could do. “I’m sorry, I’m just..” your words got caught in your throat. “I understand that it’s been a long time, but.. it would’ve been nice if you could’ve given me a heads up.” He glared at you, almost dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” he seethed. “It’s been, god, hundreds of years at this point. What did you expect?” You stared ahead. You were by no means surprised, but his harshness stung.

“I just.. I still love you..” you muttered. He exhaled, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve moved on and you need to do the same.” You gave up at that point. You were happy that he was happy.

“I’m just glad you’re doing okay. It feels good to know there was someone else to take care of you. I hope she’s treating you well, and I’m glad to see you have the family you always wanted.” You said with honesty, though there was a bit of bitterness in your voice for the last part. You two were always dreaming of having a family, but now he’s chosen someone else to have that family with. What a pity.

But alas, you said your goodbyes. It was like he was a rose, with captivating beauty but too many thorns to be a keeper. His thorns tightened around your heart as you left. It was a shame, you would’ve thought that after all this time he’d be at least a little grateful to see you.

On the inside, it meant the word to him. Your support truly put him at ease, all those years weren’t for nothing. Though he may not love you now, you used to be his muse, and for that he respects you.

[caius-hhhhhh]

following up on this fanfic emoji ask game: I know this is not the general convention but i tend to like responding to an ask game all at once rather than waiting for prompts. so I’ve just answered every single one of the questions below the cut. Again, if you wanna play or use the game for your own purposes, please do! you don’t have to repeat my strategy, although you’re free to do so too.

i was about to say “this is a bunch of autofellating nonsense” but that’s the point. who cares. i wrote a lot about disability. if your mental illness also significantly impacts your ability to write, this might be triggering.

I’m still a baby ao3 user (@ is spitemonger) with only one published fic (it’s Zutara. It’s not that I’m not proud of it but I wrote it on a deadline and thus spent a lot of the creative process going “i don’t want to i don’t want to”). but a) I have generally been writing since I was a teenager, and b) I want to write more and publish more.

So I’ll be mostly referring to unpublished wips, with a primary focus on a long-form one-sided radiostatic fic covering Vox’s fall to Stayed Gone, and a minor focus on two shelved Magnus Chase (PJO spin-off) fics, one for Fierrochase and one for Blitzstone. [if you haven’t read Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgaard get the fuck on it, there’s a genderfluid character]

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

my entire trunk novel? If I’m embarrassed by a scene I delete it during edits. So the only thing I’m even minorly embarrassed by is the fandom-specific plot I wrote by the seat of my pants (Magnus goes to Camp Half-Blood) — I’ll get more into that in a later question

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

love that this emoji doesn’t fucking register on my computer. I’ve never thought about this before! It’s hard for my own writing to get me emotional, I tend to look at it so clinically and dispassionately I kind of get caught off-guard when people say an emotional moment hit them. I do get very easily fucked by other people’s writing about transness. No prizes for guessing why, characters exploring their own gender and other people telling them they see them as their proper gender always get me feeling some type of way. calam4r1’s comic about Alastor’s “what have you done to me” makes my heart EXPLODE

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I am exceedingly proud of this Cave Johnson-ass line: “All projects, collaborations, products, and endorsements featuring or even vaguely mentioning that crimson ass’s likeness are to be liquidated. And burned. In fact, trap and seal the gases from the fire, freeze them back into liquid, and then burn them again.”

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Oh fuck yes. It is a major twist that I’d be stupid to spoil, but! There is a red herring at the start of my current fic that you don’t get resolution for until three-quarters of the way through. It involves Vox’s real name.

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

My close associate SpaceWall is a fan-fucking-tasting editor who understands my need for my writing to be completely eviscerated. She has the balls to tell me when I’ve got a shite idea, and I could not ask for a better editor. Go fucking read her fics and tell her she’s excellent. On the subject, I really like editing and am fully open to reading your work. I’ve a slightly longer post about it here but please reach out to me if you’d like me to look at anything you have.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Disability. It’s well and truly quite hard to find a story that doesn’t deal with disability — hell, it’s hard to find a human that doesn’t have a relationship with disability — but it’s something canon so frequently either tacitly ignores or doesn’t pick up on. If I’m going to do anything in a fic, it’s explicate the characters’ canon disabilities or headcanon new ones. This is my favourite part of Cold Bodies btw, and basically the only part I wrote without explicit prompting. It’s in the last subsection if you don’t want to read the 8k words of prep

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

idk man I’m really bad at pacing so even if the content is whack I go about it too slowly to really shock anyone

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

fuck off.

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

Love the implication that I don’t fall asleep every night fantasising about a thousand different first kiss scenarios.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I’m very picky when it comes to listening to music while I write. I can’t think about words if the song I’m listening to also has words, nor if it has a really tangible melody that I want to follow along with. So I need really slow, atmospheric music without a real tune. Undertale genocide themes are actually fucking excellent for this, I’d highly recommend them. I’ve created a massive fuck-off OSRS playlist (on itunes, not spotify, so I can’t share it, sorry) basically comprised of the entire Portal 2 soundtrack (special fucking shoutout to The Friendly Faith Plate, which is SO VOX CODED YOU DON’T HAVE ANY IDEAAAA) and Sim Gretina’s electro swing (Enemy Like Me is my favourite), plus Kira’s Piece of Art and Dua Saleh’s mOth. The first because it’s giving Vox’s obsession with Alastor, and the second because, duh.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

I’m a google docs hoe. I know I shouldn’t be, but fuck man, I know how it works. It feels natural when my writing is on there. I’ve tried Scrivener and it made me angry. What the fuck ever And “tools”, that’s really funny — I’m the type of grad student that does all my citations manually because switching to Zotero is weird and scary. I know how to do it manually! Why would I ever accept help for something I know how to do?? (< ocpd symptom)

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

The world doesn’t fucking need any more Nico di Angelo fics. It really doesn’t. There’s plenty. He’s a skinny white boy, he’s got the entire internet in the palm of his hand. You wanna compete with Robin? Really? You wanna do that to yourself? I don’t even have catholic guilt, I’ve got nothing to add

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

SpaceWall and I are irl friends, but we hold each other’s secrets in equal regard. The secret is that she is a good writer and I’m a poet I wouldn’t actually mind if people I knew irl found and read my fics. It’s just writing. I don’t find anything to object in it, and in fact I’d like it if I could talk about Hazbin with other people irl. I would hate it if people I know irl found my tumblr, but that’s principally because I’m significantly more open about my ocpd here. I’m not a person on the internet, I’m just words and a drawing. You haven’t seen the kinds of fucked up shit I do in front of my peers that would suddenly Make A Lot Of Sense if they knew I had a FUCKING personality disorder.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

The Blitzstone origin wip, which is mostly “ostracised gay dwarf learns ASL because he saved this dying elf’s life”. come to think of it the first chapter of that fic is technically perfect and there’s very little stopping me from putting it the fuck on ao3 and abandoning it for three years before coming back. huh. i might… just do that.

🍷 Do you drink and write?

Always. It turns the judgemental part of my brain off and I have a much easier time making things and getting ideas down. Such a shame I don’t smoke too! I’ve tried writing whilst high and it was not writing. It was in fact lying back and rereading 666

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

“the spicy stuffs” porn is the word you’re looking for. You can say it. It’s four letters. The internet police won’t get you. See look, porn porn sex penis tits ass fucking Writing erotica was a really instrumental part of unlearning the self-destructive writing habits that made me suicidal scrap my original work. My initial intention was that because it’s erotica, it’s not for other people: it’s for me. And having that barrier of “this is not for other people to see” was liberating and necessary — I turned it off eventually, because erotica is not something to be so ashamed of that no eyes but yours can look upon it — but I needed to force myself to write something that I couldn’t imagine being scrutinised and therefore needed to be Purposeful and Say Something.

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

11pm–2am is when I get my best work done. Unfortunately, I write the most frequently between 1–3pm because I have the energy and motivation to, but those are Self Doubt Hours and I have a hard time getting into the swing of things I actually have the best writing luck when I get up early but that’s not gonna fucking happen

💖 What made you start writing?

In general, pathology, but I’ve kind of made that clear already. What made me want to write a Hazbin fic was seeing how exceptionally creative this fandom is and how much fun people seemed to be having sharing their ideas. I feel like in the circles I’m running in, there’s not a lot of pressure to make Good Art, and it’s… not really a big deal if your work gets a lot of attention or not. Everyone seems to be getting the same tone of feedback, all cheer and encouragement, and the vibe to me seems really casual and fun. I’m not thinking to myself “how will I compete with these other authors”, but “I wonder if the user I idolise will see and like my work”. And the answer is often yes. It’s not just that people are creating and playing so freely, it’s that it feels like a lot of us are here to support one another, and that’s been really reassuring. Because I feel like people will like anything I put out

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I was about to say “anything related to pregnancy, thinking about my uterus makes me nauseous” but I uh. Wrote about a miscarriage. So I guess writing about a wanted pregnancy is the real limit

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

This is a super interesting question I haven’t seen spoken about very widely: it is considered extremely normal to commission fanart, but whenever the subject comes up, people seem incredibly reticent to ever commission fanfiction. I’m not fully sure why — in principle, it seems like there should be no real distinction in paying for fanart versus paying for fanfic. They’re both derivative work, they’re both made by enthusiastic artists who deserve to be compensated for their thousands of hours of expertise. I’m not certain what causes the disconnect. I have seriously toyed with the idea of doing podfics for money. I am in fact a professionally trained actor, and I own a USB microphone; which puts me ahead of like 50% of all of AO3’s userbase. Not sure if I’d fully commit to the idea because it’s still rather contentious. Were I to read my entire fic out loud I would put it behind a patreon though. It is in fact a very labour-intensive process, and again, I do have professional training.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Hoo boy.

this is my fic folder. For most fics I write, I have a draft document and a research document: I’ve colour-coded the related documents: so dark green and dark green are the draft and research, pink and pink are both parts of the same project, etc. Let’s compare the word count in each of these draft documents and research documents, shall we? The dark green draft is 8k; its research document is 16k. The pink document is Cold Bodies. Including the html coding and my author’s notes, it’s edging on 13k. Its research document is 8k. It’s the only fic I’ve completed. The light purple draft is 21.5k. Its research is 96k! The light green draft rather conspicuously titled “botw script” is in fact a script, not prose, so it’s only about 4k. Its research, which is in fact titled “I don’t like botw’s story”, is 25k. The dark purple draft is a rather tragic 6k. Its two research documents are a combined 104k!!! One of the documents is called, rather tellingly, “I think I like research more than I like writing.”

My research process involves a not insignificant amount of textual analysis. For Cold Bodies, it looked something like this:

I haven’t done a lot of that kind of work for Hazbin because most info is fanon or only vaguely canon-adjacent, but I have compiled a list of headcanons many of you have put out into the world.

that’s gabrielsbubblegumbitch’s post and soot-and-salt’s And Not From Head To Toe. The other significant form of research I do is scour books I think are interesting or relevant so I can take plot or thematic inspiration from them. Previously, I’ve combed through Creating A Champion (and cannot recommend the experience. it’s kind of racist 😬) and made a fic a loose parody of Emma so I could fall back on its plot when I needed inspiration. For this Vox fic I’m rereading David Sedaris’ When You Are Engulfed in Flames, Eden Robinson’s Traplines (the last short story has a Monkey Beach spoiler, read that first), Catcher in the Rye, The Chocolate War, and, for some reason, Cary Elwes’ As You Wish.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

Only got one. Shoutout to grownupchangeling for fucking SPRINTING into my inbox to ask for the answer to this question, really admire their(?) tenacity and dedication to squatting in my notifs like a spider in the corner

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Never really crossed my mind. I do like a good beach fic, and anything set in winter makes me happy, but I’m not a massive holiday story enjoyer.

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

I spoke about this a bit in response to soot, but if your readers are able to accurately guess a plot point or twist it means you have done it successfully. It means you have given your readers the tools to reach the same conclusion you did: and those tools are foreshadowing, atmosphere, subtext, and tension. Those are how a twist or beat feel that they belong in the narrative, because they gel with everything that has come before it. It in fact should be the author’s goal for readers to be able to guess the twist! It’s not that it should be blindingly obvious, but more that a seed should exist somewhere that smart readers (which are all readers!) should be able to see it and notice when it takes root.

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

Who doesn’t like fan art? Who’s the fucking Anne Rice of AO3 that’s going to be like “you may read my fic but do Not make art inspired by mine” literally who does that

📈 How many fics do you have?

Guess.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

I outline wherever possible. How detailed the outline is depends on the scene rather than the fic: “Vox goes house hunting” is in fact a very very long scene and a scene that amounts to two pages might well be described beat-by-beat in the outline. Pants-writing gets me incredibly stressed out because I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know where I’m going, I have no direction in mind, and because of that panic impulse I cannot be open to serendipity. It’s also really hard for me to do complete rewrites, so as soon as I have something down on the page and it’s made it past the first, worst, round of excruciating edits it tends to remain as-is in the final draft. So I often need at least a vague idea of what’s going to happen before I can start my work. I don’t do drafts, inasmuch as I’ve used that word pretty consistently throughout this post. I think. I think, think, think, research, ruminate, think, tentatively write less than 100 words, think think think consider scrapping the whole thing and then I detonate like a firework and the vast majority of the ink that first splatters on the page in that initial explosion stays until I know it’s done. I write like a shotgun: with a very intensive buildup and lots of preparation with a very short but very powerful discharge. I’ve told this to people and received the kind of expression you typically only get were you to remove your shoes and begin licking the sole of your foot. So please do not compare your own writing process with mine. Okay? This is not normal. I don’t know how often I’ve mentioned this but I have a disorder. No one but me does this. You should not expect yourself to.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

No <3

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I am literally the last person you should ask. Never pour water on a grease fire? Your face mask should completely cover your mouth and nose? Always make sure the base is larger than the widest point?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

I don’t actually find that there’s a single character who brings me comfort to write about. I write about someone if I have something to say about them. I do have a comfort trope, which is sleeping together.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

I think that Valentino used to be a porn actor before he became a director. During a shoot, he would wear an earpiece so his director could feed him lines, given that he couldn’t read the scripts.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Alastor! I also talk breezily and with an emphasis on slightly elevated language, so I find his dialogue to be incredibly natural to spit out. Plus, who doesn’t love dated exclamations and turns of phrase like “By Jove!” and “take a powder”?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

I well and truly don’t care. I don’t publish anything I’m ashamed of. I only publish things that I think showcase my skills, and that I think are worthwhile pieces of art. And if I had a friend who thought fanfiction or erotica was something to shame or scorn, well, they would not be my friend.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Finishing it.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Romantic partners becoming the main character’s therapists… I mean, that’s one of the great things about writing villain protagonists. They don’t fucking have to go to therapy.

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

Buckle up, cunt. I had a novel I was working on as a teenager. It was about toxic masculinity and MLM sexual assault. I said to myself, this will be a piece of art that defines a generation. It will say something that our (western) society desperately needs to hear, and one day a young gay kid just like myself will be tilting their head at a 90° angle to see the titles of the books lining the shelves of their local bookstore, see my novel, pick it up, and discover that it spoke to them: in the same way that I felt seen and heard by the books I loved. So as I wrote and worked on it, I often looked at my own writing with the harsh and uncaring eyes I knew it would be faced with when I inevitably contacted an editor. I wanted to make it flawless, bulletproof, do everything in my power to make this work perfect before an editor could see it, so that way I could wholeheartedly say that it was ready for other eyes. So nothing was perfect. Every part of it wasn’t good enough, fix it, FIX IT, I know you can do better so stop acting like THIS is the best you can accomplish. Come on, pick yourself up and do it right this time. And I tortured myself with that. To this day I cannot look at my draft without thinking of all the mistakes I made, what needed to be improved, what still needs to be improved, and after I’ve grown more and gotten diagnosed and met with people who have been published — met publishers — I know that I can’t trust myself enough to let this become a career. Do you know how hard writing this post has been? Did you know it’s taken me two days? Did you know how long I leave my posts in the drafts for, rereading, rereading, rereading, making sure there’s no chance this can be fucked up in any way, that it is totally within my control? I cannot become a professional writer. It’s my disability.

so, you know. rock make stick hit hard on head, cock make dick real hard in bed

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

A lustrum.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

B-plots! I kind of get regular plotting, in that I know how to build and resolve tension, but I am so bad at finding other things for the characters to DO in order to take a break from the main plot. I already worked so hard to make a main plot, you want me to do another one??? To say what? I did everything I wanted to, I tied it all in a neat bow, if the readers want a break from the main tension why can’t they just tab out

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

I love trans Vox, but in order for him to be in character he has to hate being trans. I’m really used to writing about trans joy, for my own health and for everyone else’s, so writing a character that wishes they weren’t trans is really sad.

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

I actually love criticism. Your work can only get better through education, and one of the easiest ways to get education is by having another person read your work and tell you something about it you didn’t know. I need other perspectives because my own perception of my writing is exhaustive and exhausting: I feel like I’ve done everything I can to improve my work and I am so tired of looking at it that I need a fresh pair of eyes to show me something I’d not found. Getting better is always something to strive for; and even in mean comments it is entirely possible to find the thread of a lesson. More often than not it’s a threat of a lesson, but personally, I take what I can get. Criticism is something I find easy to receive because I can turn it into something productive, either “okay, this is something I need to improve upon, let’s do that” or “this is so clearly in bad faith it is costing me nothing to ignore it”. It’s something I can easily take control of. It’s positive comments that feel like apple-bobbing in a tub full of syringes.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

#Psychological Horror immediately followed by #Eventual Smut. One of my favourite tag jokes I’ve written is #falling in love, #unrequited love, #friends to enemies, #on-again off-again relationship, #don’t date your coworkers holy shit don’t do it. And you really can’t go wrong with Cold Bodies’

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I suppose I’m kind of asking for it at this point.

I’ve left this one for last so it will have the best dramatic impact. Thank you, heartily, for sorting through that much shit!! I hope this is a worthwhile reward for your efforts.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

The shadows lengthen. The room is small, bereft of light; the darkness has plenty of recesses to establish itself within. His chest distends and recedes with a languid, heavy pulse: good. He will not wake. He dares not take a step. He contorts with the gloaming, letting it carry his weight like waves on the wine-dark sea. Ink creeping along the fractal contours of incautious skin, on paper pulp. The blanket is drawn too far up his shoulder, but his hands have wisely ventured away from its grasp. He has nestled them close to his face: the right palm faces the ceiling. His overgrown claws, weightless, curl around the soundless air. The cuffs of his shirt have drawn back to reveal the skin on his left wrist.  He casts a faint but adequate illumination. Regrettably — he discovers — he has not flesh but casing. Whether it be titanium or catalin, it protects the veins underneath. What seams it must possess, he cannot access at present. He cannot smell his blood. Only the hot hiss of his breath, of bertholite and alkaloids. Experience has had the good grace to train him to anticipate the worst-case scenario. Thus, he suspects his knife would dent upon contact with his skin. This would likely require blunt force, something messy and more out of his weight class. Which is unideal: his own strength is formidable, naturally, but imprecise. And somewhat unsubtle. He sees the power buzzing underneath his grip. A live wire ready to snatch at the first hint of energy, snapping, sparking, antsy and unfulfilled. He likely isn’t trained enough to feel it himself, but again, the danger is too tangible to risk tripping over it. Were he more experienced, older, had experimented enough to test his limits, it would be a safer estimate; but as he is now, untapped and spring-loaded — fisticuffs would result in a significantly less assured victory. It is not a lack of confidence. It is simply a risky bet he does not want to get caught foolishly trusting himself with. That is smarts, not sheepishness. He does not hiss aloud. Nor does he retreat: he takes stock. The room offers little relevant information. His possessions are scarce, no letter drafts upon the writing desk, no bandages or weapons. His wallet is useless. He’s laid out nicotine patches and topical creams upon his toilet table: an invasome, it seems, may be a possibility. Unfortunately, he would have to synthesize it himself. He despises inconclusiveness. He returns his gaze to the picture box, his screen dim and vacuous.  Loathed as he is to admit, this may be a somewhat longer project than he had initially envisioned. More’s the pity — what a spectacular send-off he would have been able to provide! Keep your chin up, now, old boy. This was hardly a trip for biscuits. It was, however, strike two.

[jonathankatwhatever]

More on 4 June 2024. What was I thinking about? It was so good that it didn’t write into non-local memory. I prefer that to short-term because non-local means a Boundary and the shift over that.

Oh, now I remember: I was working out how to scale the relativistic effects measured in 0Space when it come to me that it scales in 1Space, and that we see this in examples like taxicab geometry, which fits to the Minkowski metric, which fits to Minkowski space. I remember thinking both times I’ve consciously processed this information that a reaction after the rush was that this disproves our work because the tools all exist from that point on. Then I realized: we’re making the enclosure which explains why these things occur so they’d better connect seamlessly.

Then I had a strong Storyline episode where J described herself as mathematically a woman because she is an enclosure for an object, one which replicates the whole, as opposed to something replicating in you like a cancer or a tendency to freckle. The distinction is important because the Boundaries of those Things make the field at that counting level. The male form is penetrative, implanting that which grows in the enclosure.

Interesting. I never expected Storyline to evolve to reach the fundamental of intertwined identity. This finally explains the gender reversal in the Storylines. And I mean that to the informational exchange level and to the IL, because that’s what generates the relativistic effects within 0Space. It’s also the missing juice, the motivation, the animating force.

That was truly startling this morning. I heard a version of your voice say that I was going to understand this material, but in specific terms I can’t remember because they’ve become, they’ve scaled into understandings.

That’s something J was working on with movement. I saw her ask someone to do a move showing beauty, and then showing them how to scale that so the feeling of beauty extended across the body, showing how to enlarge the movement, how to pull it in, how to connect the various motions together in different orders. And then she explained how this allowed her to explore symmetries and groups in not only the 3 and 4 dimensions of actual dance but in the processing in higher dimensions so that dance occurs and can be taught in those 3 and 4 dimensions.

I can see her processing this as 6 dimensions in each held position, 7 connecting those, 8 dividing into alternatives again, but this time of the 3 and 4 dimensions, primal 2:1. Don’t get overexcited. Look at the 6 first. You saw this as a pose with its intangible structure. And 7 enables states of those, so connection is more existences coming out of and extending higher. At 8 we see the pair of D4. So if take an alignment of D3 and the structure which generates that is D4 - trying to remove Observer by lifting it higher, making this as mechanical as possible - and that means the structure which contains, so the potential of that structure.

That’s an essential piece: the 2:1 isn’t fixed but mixed to the extent allowable in that structure. I heard a wonderful description of J by her mother and it mirrored my experience: she learned algebra almost overnight then said she doesn’t need to calculate with it because she was interested in why certain algebras exist and what that means. I remember being given work books when I wanted more advanced learning material, not more exercises. I didn’t care about calculating.

So the general idea seems to be that the tiny relativistic effects measured in 0Space, like the level which makes current flow, is directly caused by the lack of the ideal SBE count. That means a Thing field, with its Boundaries, exists in rsSpace, which is inherently relativistic 0Space. There’s much more. I’m having trouble getting it out, which isn’t surprising given how far out this material is.

If we had pure SBE, pure 1Space, we’d have no resolution because gsSpace would not exist. That would be a prime space. This is really interesting.

Is it possible to take a vinyl record and convert it so the encoded version is iterative? I mean one of the reasons we’d listen to records on repeat was that each trip sounded a bit different because the needle hits the groove a bit differently each time, and that will be in relation to the mood, to the noise in the room. Can that be real? Can effects that small be real? Are they actually small? We’re talking about vibrations to a surface that transmit to a needle which is banging around in a track. I think this is good. It would be cool if there were an iterative processing engine which adjusted for room noise and other effects, like number of people, whether it’s sunny and thus a bit deader air. Oh, that’s an example: the cold air contraction transmits sounds better than the more open warmer air.

Now, what we’re talking about is something beyond these examples. We’re talking about this size exchange, which becomes special relativity, occurring in a Thing field because focus, the Observer, involves SBE3, and is literally 1+SBE3 because we count from the 1.

Oh, that sounds like something J wrote. Almost had it, but not sure what she meant by counting back. It was that she counted k iterations within a completeness limit, but that doesn’t sound right given Kurt’s work. It must be that she identified an identity over large cardinals, an identity of larger form against which proposed axioms test. Identity requires an End, so she constructed an End, which she did symbolically using the kind of brackets we use.

This is really cool. Feels like I’m getting to know myself.

How does contraction work in 1Space? SBE3 to 1+SBE3 to the label Mag10 to indicate this acts as a connector which enlarges or shrinks and which connects past to future. Think of it as drawing inferences across the center square for all those SBE where the center is B and the 1+ and +1 are the Start and End. The different perspectives provide the animation.

One of the difficulties of talking through this is that I//I explains the electric and magnetic fields so they become forces in rsSpace. Something is missing in my understanding there. I need to take a walk. This has been a lot of fun.

[doved-icelebrity]

I often wander around exclusively to strength-train my perception, picking up on street art / bumper stickers / interesting examples of lives lived. This week’s exercise spoke to my soul in this way. I find the power of a passing image to be often unspoken, only finding those that seek it out specifically or come across it on accident. As an artist, I am well aware and in awe of the ways in which beautiful images and thought-provoking words can revolutionize one’s state of mind, alter the course of a day, and perhaps even inspire a newfound passion. Consistently, I find myself so grateful to live in a city that is so rich with life in these ways. Every walk to the train can lead to a discovery of something unexpected, profound, and hidden in plain sight. I believe that what you seek is seeking you, and when you search for beauty, you can find it almost everywhere.

Aside from all things lovely, street art is so often multidimensional- speaking volumes, making impacts, diverting attention towards what must be said. Art and culture should be made as widely accessible as possible, and everyone should have access to expression and enjoyment within these realms. This method of artistic expression brings art and commentary into the everyday world, where it belongs and is constantly being reborn. When the goal is to spread a message and raise awareness, the practice of breaking down the gates preventing a piece from being seen by absolutely everyone possible is both brilliant and crucial. Being surrounded by vibrant displays of care makes for a neighborhood that feels truly cared for.

The images of street art I have included express messages of everyday motivation, encouragement, and support, with touches of humor. I am struck by the concept of an artist spending time / energy / art supplies to spread a selfless message. In a world run by advertisements and promotion, this act of anonymous art feels contrary.

I have been a fan of these “PMS” tags for a few years now. I see it as a proud display of feminism and Queer sexuality. I am not sure who or what is behind this initiative, but I have seen a variety of pink “PMS” paintings across Brooklyn. The idea of something a fact of life for so much of the population that is usually shamed and silenced being highlighted in hot pink makes me laugh. I am sure it can be a bit jarring to some, though I believe this would be the point. It seems like an iteration of the classic “girl power” with a gay twist. I find the implied conflation of menstruation with womanhood to be a flaw in this artwork’s message, but I can appreciate the overall artistic intention. I would love to see a trans-inclusive take on this, as many individuals get their period and many individuals don’t, and gender is unrelated. In spite of this, I can also understand that an artist’s personal goal is not always a wide reach of relatability. This brings up the point that art being put into the world widely and freely opens it up to a more expansive sphere of criticism and varied reactions. Constructive criticism is a critical part of the artist’s journey.

It reminds me of the movements taken on by a modern period care companies (I think of a popular brand that seeks to do good around this issue called August specifically) with the goal to destigmatize menstruation. The fact of the matter is that menstruation affects a significant portion of the world and everyone that requires access to period care products deserves them, without shame, guilt, or tax. Like any health concern, treatment and awareness is essential and should never be looked down upon. Though it is done in a cheeky way, I do believe that Premenstrual Syndrome is a serious mental and physical health concern that is not as widely understood, acknowledged, or treated as it should be. The shame around menstruation prevents people suffering from symptoms to seek help. If in some world, someone sees these paintings, googles the acronym, and learns about PMS in a sincere way, then it is a success. If someone sees this while suffering from period related bodily pain and mental anguish and chuckles, then it is a success. Art can be so many things, why not make some of it about PMS.

Without traditional guidelines and rules to adhere to, the subversive nature of the content created is limitless. An artist’s freedom of expression results in the creation of a discourse that need not fit into any sort of specific box. This makes for unparalleled levels of radical honesty and authentic engagement. Giving voice to artists that otherwise may not have the access to express themselves in this way is inspiring to all artists following a path of change making, empowerment, and expression. The world is our canvas during this lifetime, making the city in which one resides being a studio/gallery/feast of inspiration being a very natural progression. Breaking free from the borders in which art historically is sheltered behind makes for a complete disruption in the art world and an opportunity for an audience to expand beyond tradition and engage in an equally unique way. The accessibility of street art makes the overall influence on public culture vast and powerful. Seeing inspirational messages surround you seeps into your psyche, causing this inspiration to be a part of your every day path.

This method of inspiration, activism, and expressions of emotion is a blessed transformation of our daily lives. A way to make important messages known, revolutionize public spaces, spread joy, and call attention to the community and culture.

[friendlyneighborhoodplebeian]

friendly reminder that J.K.Rowling views anyone that enjoys her work as supporting her, and that that is the only thing minorities will ever agree with her on.

First, to the person that sent this, I’m sorry I could not respond sooner and privately before I post this, I want you to know this is not an attack on you, if anything you are doing me a great service to allow me address JKR and her doings without it seeming out of the blue (I feel uncomfortable to make grandiose statements out of no where, I’m not here to be political. I’m posting jokes and thoughts that just come to my head about fandoms I like for fun). If you feel attacked in any way by this I’m sorry and I implore you to reach out to me, so we can talk this out and so I can privately apologize.

Second, to address what you/they said I was not aware of this particular view of her’s, I’ve never really kept track of what JKR was doing and her beliefs, (I’m not into keeping track of any public figure’s life) after finding out about her being a TERF I no longer bought or participated in anything that would directly support her (buying merchandise and the such(I will elaborate more about the “directly support her” line in my fourth point)).

Third I do stand with the people/communities she has hurt, as a person who is also minority (I’m a Fil-am, queer, and not fully gender conforming) anything I do is not meant to offend or hurt in anyway and I’m sorry if I’ve ever done such and I would like for those willing to point out my wrong doings, so I could apologize and educate myself, so I do not make these mistakes again.

Fourth, my take on separating the art from the artist is that as long as your contribution to the fandom does not directly supporting the author, (the use of direct is because as long as people care and remember about any of her works, we contribute to the remembrance of her and the continuation of her infamy, but that thought can be better handled by someone else and not what I’m on tumblr to do) so I don’t not consider participating in fandom by making posts to be supporting her, and if it looks like I’m supporting her in any way; I’m sorry that I did not do better, you deserve to see posts and to follow someone that is better and can make these sort of things clear, I’m sorry that I did not make my stance obvious and I’m sorry if any of you are disappointed, angry, or hurt by me. I will try to be better.

Firth, the reclaiming of works, I am of the belief that works/art (literature, imagery, painting, etc.) to a certain point do not belong to artists anymore after they are published/public. People through their interpretation transforms works into these amazing things that exist outside of the author, they transform characters from one form of being to another and make it their own. I believe works can be reclaimed and transformed into something that is not hateful, that works can be transformed into something beautiful (though that is a two way treat, misconstruing works into something that it never was and actually the complete opposite of what it was intended to be in a bad way 100% exist, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov comes to mind, there’s really great video essays about Lolita on how this happened on YouTube I suggest you take a look at those). The Harry Potter fandom had taken the world of Harry Potter away from horrible bigoted women and transformed the work into something beautiful and accepting. They transformed into something that JKR was to bigoted and untalented to create herself. I don’t Harry Potter see to be a creation of JKR, but the fandom. In the minds of many we in-vision not the work of JKR, but the work of the fandom whether or not we realize it. The fandom was the reason I like Harry Potter at all, they are the reason I’m apart of this fandom, they are the reason I can look at Harry Potter with such love and nostalgia. JKR was too untalented to do what the fandom is capable of. I want to thank the fandom for this, you guys are truly incredible.

Lastly, if anyone made it this far, thank you. I hope I’ve touched on everything well and respectfully. I also hope you give me another chance and not see this as an overreaction, I felt I needed to explain/ defend myself and that this subject need to be touched upon if I continue to make Harry Potter posts. I’m uncomfortable with sharing things about myself and avoid doing so and outside of jokes I don’t really post anything else, but I felt this needed to be said, thank you for reading this. And in the worlds of Truman of the Truman show “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.” Thank you.

-Much Love

Your, Friendlyneighborhoodplebian

[kyracanwrite]

The main (3) class 1 a boys with a S/O who hates their scars

Will do a part 2 later if you want for the other boys

(Gender neutral/ Fem? Reader)

A/N

-This is how I think the main boys of Class 1a would react to a S/O who hates their scars. (Not specified what scars are from or where they are, though some examples are given.)

Warnings: Scars, Hurt & Comfort, self deprecating thoughts, cussing, mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm, these are kind of short.

💔❤️ (small a/n, I actually suffered with Sh for a long time and I have lots of scars scattering my body because of it. If you have been through self harm or even abuse of any forms I’m so proud of you. Stay safe <3 and if you continue to suffer with abuse or self harm please get help. You are loved and we all want you to be safe. )

Now playing—————————————>Running up that hill -Kate Bush

Katsuki Bakugou

He’s very confused at first.

He thinks your scars are bad ass. No matter what they are from. He doesn’t care. He thinks scars show, in a sense, that you’ve won against your enemies.

If the scars have a deep meaning (ex: self harm, abuse, etc.) he’ll comfort you and remind you that it’s in the past.

It’s not your fault for what you went through. He helps you recover as a person, and encourages you to embrace the parts of you that you can’t change.

The past that you can’t get rid of. He wants you to just accept it.

And he helps you reach that point with lots of reassurance and affection.

Lots of cuddles.

If he ever sees you eyeing a scar for a little bit longer than you should he makes sure to trace it with his fingers while you’re cuddling, and makes sure you know how much he loves your scars.

Even if you don’t. He does. He loves them. Your scars make you, you. And he loves you.

He cares about you so much, and seeing you bring yourself down hurts his heart. (Not that he’d ever tell you though.)

Izuku Midoriya

His initial reaction would be concern.

He saw you crying while looking at your scars.

Cuddles you and traces your scars with his fingers.

His concern turned into confusion. How could you hate something that’s a part of you?

He can sort of relate since he has lots of scars on his hand, and he often feels bad about them.

But you were perfect in his eyes. Including your scars.

No matter if they were from falling and cutting yourself, or self inflicted scars, or scars from injuries others gave you. (Purposefully or not, doesn’t matter.)

He loves you and he wants to make sure you knew that.

He asks you why you hate your scars.

If you say they’re ugly, he makes sure to remind you every day how beautiful your scars were.

If you say they bring back horrid memories, he makes sure to remind you that your past does not define you as a person, the present, or the future. It has no hold over who you are or who you are going to be.

Overall he just wants to make sure you know how loved and appreciated you are, scars or no scars.

Shoto Todoroki

Since he has a scar of his own, he understands where you’re coming from.

It’s something he struggled with for a long time. (And sometimes still continues to struggle with.)

If the scar is from you falling or accidentally hurting yourself, you feel stupid for hating it because it really isn’t that ‘big of a deal.’

You think you shouldn’t be complaining over such a small thing while Todoroki has a huge scar on his eye from someone he trusted. (Aka, his mother.)

He makes sure you know everyone has their own reasons for self deprecation (not that it’s a good thing tho) and you should never feel ashamed for having feelings.

If your scar is from self harm, he makes sure you know how strong you are. He reminds you every day that you’re a survivor and you’re so strong for that. He tells you daily that he’s not disgusted or weirded out by your self harm scars. (If you have sh scars there’s always that one person who thinks it’s gross for whatever reason.)

He also lets you know he doesn’t think it was for attention. He knows you were truly and sincerely struggling at some point of time and turning to the blade was the only thing you thought you could do.

If they are from abuse he tells you how strong you are for putting up with that and going through that. He tells you your scars are just battle wounds, and helps you look at those scars in a positive light.

He relates to you, since he has scars from abuse of his own.

He loves you so much and just wants to make sure you know how much he cares about you.

His face may not show many emotions, but his heart is full of them exclusively for you.

Bonus; Todoroki definitely kisses your scars all the time. Even when you’re sleeping.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Like my writing? Cool! Here’s my masterlist <3

[dreamkidddream]

Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.

Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!

The Undateables with Yorkie!MC

Diavolo

He is LOVING your energy

Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)

He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)

As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do

Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for

But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!

He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way

(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)

You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too

Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)

Barbatos

Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)

You’re still harmless in his eyes though

Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times

Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen

He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers

With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf

“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”

“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”

“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”

You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!

He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)

It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face

Simeon

You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?

Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke

And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be

“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”

“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”

He’s keeping them btw

He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)

“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”

MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary

He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back

He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now

Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!

He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!

Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always

Has definitely written a character based on you

Luke

Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm

You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!

Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice

You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)

We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him

And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it

You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off

You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt

It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!

You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!

He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!

Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!

You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed

Solomon

Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!

He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter

Congrats on becoming his new victim MC

Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either

He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?

He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)

Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao

But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him

You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!

He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…

But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?

He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes

If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-

[levis-little-nuggie]

hi! i just saw the post about requests and could you write some fluffy sex headcanons with the brothers? we don't really see stuff like that so i thought i'd ask

Bless you nonny for the request 💜💜 this uh, turned out a lot longer than I had anticipated, probably because I haven't written anything in a good while 😅

Asmo and Belphie will have their own posts 💜

Nsft, obviously, so everything is under the Read More. I made the reader as gender neutral and inclusive as I could. Please let me know if at any point, I was exclusive.

Fluffy Sex Headcanons of the Demon Brothers

(minus Asmo and Belphie)

Lucifer

This man will top or bottom solely dependent upon what you want. Sex with him is moreso about pleasing his partner than just getting off. His preferences are fine tuned to your desires and your body’s limits. Lucifer’s sin feeds off of the immense pride a lover feels when they know you and your body better than you do

He may act cold and aloof in public and in front of others, coming off as stoic and arrogant, but it’s a completely different story behind closed doors.

However you want him, he’ll comply. You’ve done the impossible and captured his heart.  Don’t let this old man and his brown shoes fool you, he’ll drown you in passion.

He’ll gladly play the Dom role, but he’ll also gladly be your sub as well.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer him to Dom, you can expect an intensive aftercare routine that would rival Asmo’s. It’s not that he doesn’t like hurting you or pushing you to your limits, he just wants to reward you for being so good for him and wants to remind you how much he loves you.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer to Dom yourself, go crazy! While you would be capable of marking and bruising his skin, you can’t physically hurt or break him beyond light scratches. He can break out of whatever restraints you put him, even if they are demon-grade. You would need actual spells to diminish his strength to put him on par with a lower-class demon if you wanted him to actually feel any real pain, but if it’s what you want, he’ll do it. Expect a conversation beforehand about what you want and how he can do that for you. He wants there to be clear communication so he knows how best to serve you in the moments to come.

Sure the sex is fantastic, but he’ll show you how much he loves you in the tender moments after. The afterglow is his favorite part, both of you basking in the remnants of pleasure coursing through you, the physical numbness, and the swell of feel-good chemicals swirling through your bodies. This is when he’ll hold you closest, pepper your skin with kisses unable to stop himself, he’ll play with your hair if you have it, his eyes will be bright, his smile will be unrestrained. He may even start humming a long-forgotten lullaby or your favorite song as he rests his head against your chest, hearing your heartbeat in blissful content until one of you decides it’s time to get cleaned up.

No matter how long the day has been, the amount of hours he’s put into all that damn paperwork, he’ll always make time to pamper you after sex. If you prefer to shower alone, he’ll let you go first and have the bed ready with new, clean sheets and clean towels set out for you when you’re done. Prefer to sleep with pajamas? He has a drawer dedicated to your favorite things along with some new ones he bought for you.

Mammon

Ah yes, the tsundere. The dumbass in the streets, dumbass in the sheets. The one who has more hair-brained ideas than he does fingers and toes in one week. One of the greatest banes of Lucifer’s existence.

His push and pull personality might have you questioning the validity of his feelings, but I believe that Mammon wouldn’t be partaking in fluffy sex at all unless he was absolutely smitten.

With how his brothers treat him, he’s reluctant to open his heart to you and fully accept that at some point, you won’t start insulting him either. However, equipped with the sin of greed, Mammon’s completely helpless when you compliment and reassure him. 

His standoffish attitude is a front, a feeble attempt to keep up his reputation as “The Great Mammon,” but he’s got himself wrapped around your finger before he even realizes it and that facade would melt away instantly at your smallest of smiles, a kiss on his cheek or back of his hand, a surprise compliment, anything that makes his heart skip a beat. 

Of the brothers, he has one of the weakest composers around you mainly because he’s also one of the horniest. 

Sex with Mammon can be rushed;  a quickie between classes, a broken composure that has him feeling dehydrated for you, a clash of tongues and teech and a burning desire that encompasses both of you until you find release.

However, the sweetest and fluffiest sex with Mammon would be when either of you are feeling emotionally vulnerable. 

He’ll treat you like you’re the greatest treasure to have ever existed in all three realms, with a delicacy as if you’re fragile because he knows he can be careless and reckless. He’ll be in his head a lot making sure he’s taking care of you, that you feel good, doing his damndest to keep you satisfied so there’s no room in your heart to doubt him. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep that sparkle in your eye when you look at him, to never lose you and never have to experience the day you realize his brothers have been right all along. 

And I mean he’ll do whatever and however. Any wish is his command, but you’ll have more work cut out for you if you suggest the both of you participating in a threesome or more. He wants you all to himself, it’s his greed, but it’s your reassurance and validation that will have him like putty in your hand. 

He’s more than okay with both of you falling asleep in your mess, but more often than not, he’ll wait until you’ve dozed off to clean up. In these moments, he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin, like polishing a priceless jewel. His intentions are pure, most of the time, he just likes to wait till you’re asleep so there’s no chance for you to tease him about it. It also allows his greed to soak up your peaceful expression, the way your body reaches out to him after he’s finished cleaning and comes back to curl up next to you. 

There’s a secret photo album hidden on his phone filled with pictures of the both of you like this, your lashes against your cheeks, your freckles or sun spots, any blemishes or scars that he’s covered in kisses countless of times, your hand in his and vice versa, memories of how sweet and tender your love is, filled with emotions he struggles to put into words. 

Leviathan

It all depends how you play your cards with this one. Teasing him is easy and it’ll get him all flustered, but pair that with his raging horniness and you’ll be walking a fine line between a Dom or sub Levi.

However, if it’s fluffy and sweet sex you want, treat him gently and he’ll return the favor. It’ll take a bit of time and effort to get here, on both your parts, but if you’re willing to put in the work, he’ll make it worth it. Like Mammon, this means sex will be its fluffiest when either both of you or one of you is emotionally vulnerable.

We’ve recently been blessed by the devs on a cannon description of his tail, confirming that it is snake-like with scales. This also means, however, that his tail is sensitive to touch and he has full control of its movements. During a more sweet intimacy, he likes to wrap his tail around a limb, your arm or your leg. It’s only when he’s in Dom or sub mode that he likes to use his tail in a more active manner.

It’s important for him, whether he realizes it or not, that during these moments, that he’s the one touching you, not his tail. If you ask him to use his tail too much during sex, he’ll start to think that you’re only with him because of his tail.

He’ll want to see you even though his room is dimly lit. He also knows his tub bed might not be the most comfortable so he’ll invest in a mattress to put on the floor by the tank, and a few fluffy blankets, from the Ruri-chan line of course, to keep you warm and comfortable so you’ll never want to leave his room, just like him.

He prefers any position that has the two of you lying together, with your face in clear view because he can’t get enough of the faces you make because of the pleasure he’s responsible for making you feel. He’ll be more focused on your voice, your body language, your reactions to reassure him he’s doing something right.

To see your naked skin kissed with the reflection of the water from the tank is his favorite part. He actually got a nosebleed the first time he saw you like that. 

Sex with the otaku is a learning experience that requires patience and repetitive reassurance. He’s certain that no one could ever love him, and it’s going to cost a lot of mental energy, and it can be disheartening at times where it seems he’s not made any progress in loving himself at all, but you’ll both also have an opportunity to create something truly beautiful between the two of you. Falling in love with your best friend, and having your feelings returned with all their heart is one of the most beautiful things to ever experience.

Satan

I like to imagine that Satan is akin to that tiger DILF in Zootopia looking at his tablet while on the train, you know, the one who looks like he’ll take good care of you? Listen, during one of his Devilgram stories, the man pitches a tent (like an actual tent, not a boner you guys) and makes both of you cups of hot chocolate. You can pry this hc out of my cold, dead hands.

Sex with Satan is actually more often fluffy and sweet than anyone would assume because he’s the Avatar of Wrath. Just like all the other brothers, Satan is more than his sin. That being said, Satan is still CEO of Angry Sex™ but he’s also more intune to his own feelings than the rest of his brothers. 

It’s after his more violent fits of rage that he’s seeking your comfort. It’s difficult for him to come down from his wrath; the worse the fit is, the more broken and twisted he feels. He didn’t like coming to you at first because he knows how mentally draining it can be for a human to deal with someone like that, but you’ve insisted in your endearing and stubborn way that he can and needs to rely on you more. You threatened to find all the sources proving your point for the success of any relationship and he eventually gave in, accepting your kindness and your love.

In turn, he provides you with an arsenal of reading material and spells you can arm yourself with for a plethora of reasons; mainly self-defense against demons, a history of successful and failed attempts to prank Lucifer, as well as guides for subjects in class to help you study.

Unlike his previous brothers, sex with Satan is more about the pleasure you both feel. Of course he’ll still be mindful of your pleasure, but he can also get lost in his own desire. No matter how far gone he is, you know that the moment you utter the safeword, he’ll stop immediately and assess the situation. The safeword is actually a simple spell that he’d found when you two started getting more intimate.

On days he’s feeling extra playful, he’ll dress up for you; a collar with a bell, cat ears, a butt plug with a tail attached. He loves to be your little kitty cat, and will practically foam at the mouth if you ever dressed up like a slutty cat for him, but this doesn’t lead to fluffy smut times.

While he has no issues with PDA, Satan reserves his more soft and fluffy side for when you two are totally alone. He’s proactive in looking up cute date ideas and is the type to go all out turning his bed or his floor into a nest of pillows and blankets, cups of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, whatever you prefer, a variety of little snacks, and turn his wall into a projection screen to watch old-fashioned black and white romance movies. 

For Satan, it’s the moments leading up to the sweet intimacy filled with love and adoration that are his favorites. Being the reason your face brightens, tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes, the way your smile makes his heart stutters, Satan loves showing you how much you mean to him mainly because he knows he’s not the best with words. He could recite any poem of strings of song lyrics, but he believes actions speak louder than words.

He actually prefers for you to have control in these moments; there’s less of a chance he could hurt you and it’s another way to prove his love. He’ll only ever bottom for you. He was reluctant at first, but it’s like you opened his eyes to a whole new world he didn’t know about. He still likes to act like he's a cat and you're his mouse, but he also likes it when you take over and make him bow to your whim. You've gained his trust as well as his heart and he believes that the power dynamic in a relationship should be balanced.

During the most intimate moments, either right after sex or waking up together in the morning after sleeping in, you'll both enter this Cat Speak mode. One of you will start, just a cute little "mrow?" and you'll go back and forth entertaining a semblance of a conversation but without saying anything. There's no actual conversation happening, it's just the two of you making cat noises at each other, giggling and riding the high of this special intimacy specially reserved for these moments of bliss.

Beel

Let’s be honest, 9 times out of 10 your sex with the sixth-born will be fluffy and sweet. He’s like the personified version of a golden retriever. He loves you and has the instinct to want to take care of you. You’re such a small, delicate human, and his brothers love you too so when you’re in Beel’s care, he makes sure you’re satisfied more than just sexually. 

Anything you’re willing to give him, he’ll accept wholeheartedly expressing his love and gratitude in the form of huge grins, hugs, a hearty chuckle, and peppering kisses across your face. 

Even though he’s not as sexually active as some of his brothers, once you get this big guy started, be prepared to cancel any plans you have for the rest of the day… and also the day after just to be safe. He has the most energy and will keep going until he’s had you against every solid surface in his room, minus Belphie’s furniture of course. Regardless of your size or how you look, he’ll make you feel weightless as he carries you around the room effortlessly

He loves the way you taste, gliding his tongue over your skin like you’re an ice-cream cone that never melts, he’s actually growled a number of times when you tried pulling yourself away from him. His eyes had turned shades darker than normal before you snapped him out of it. He would apologize profusely and kill the mood so as to make sure he’s in the right headspace and you’re okay. 

This has only happened a few times, but he still loves to taste every inch of you whenever he has you all to himself. He leaves you covered in hickeys and love bites and even though he’ll apologize, you know he feels absolutely no shame in his brother’s reactions to seeing you covered the next day. 

His favorite part is helping you ride out your orgasm with his mouth. He knows he’s more skilled with his mouth anyway and just, the man cannot get enough of you or your taste. Depending on where he’s at when you orgasm, if he’s close, he’ll paint your skin in his release, and then clean up the mess and drag you in for snuggles. If he’s not quite there yet, he’ll assess your energy levels and wait until you’re ready to go again or keep going, depending on who topped or bottomed. He’s all about consent and wants to join you when you’re fully blissed out regardless if he’s finished or not (meaning he’ll deny his own release in order to lie with you).

Aftercare comes almost second nature to him. He’s already carrying you to the bathroom and soaking you off in the shower before you realize it. The warm water and his large hands invade your senses and he urges you to let go, to let him take care of you and it’s like a dream. His calloused hands offer a sort of comforting roughness that keeps you grounded. If you want shower sex, you’ll have to initiate it.

Actually, that’s pretty accurate for Beel. You want sex? You’re either going to have to initiate it or tell him straight out. Poor guy does not take hints well as he is very oblivious.

[dokifluffs]

Oh This Should Be Good | Sakusa Kiyoomi

Pairing: Sakusa X Reader (female) 

Genre: fluff, comedy?

Author’s Note: @makeusfreefromthisfandom and I are doing a seasonal challenge where we give each other prompts! You can read her’s here to the prompt I gave her! and here, you can obviously read mine with the prompt she gave me: 

“Ahaha this is random but imagine his daughter asking him where babies come from 😭“ 

Also note: I like to write Sakusa as if he’s getting help with his germaphobia like slowly over time, as challenging as it is, he’s trying to change and be better with people he loves and cares about like his partner and perhaps offspring. Even though this would be kind of out of his canon character, I like to write him like this so he’s a more flexible character to write for.  

Warning: Timeskip spoilers ah ha ha, parents, kids, married characters 

D/N = Daughter’s name

gif from @rivaillerose​ 💛

“Daddy!” Sakusa and your little girl ran towards her father, grabbing a hold of him around the waist as he stepped into the living room, finally getting a rare day off now that baby number two was on their way

“Morning, pumpkin,” he stifled a yawn as he patted her back, messing with her hair up before she let go of him in a fit of giggles, following him

“Will you play with me today?”

“What do you mean, I always play with you,” he slid down on the wooden floors, making himself comfortable as he leaned back against the couch, now at the same eye level with his precious jewel

All she could do was smile as bright as the sun, her laughter echoing throughout the living space as the sunlight poured in

She truly was such a little angel, it amazed Sakusa still to this day how far he and his growing family was coming

Naturally, his smile matched hers

He relaxed as he let the day go by, his daughter playing around him, playing with her toys, occasionally watching the cartoons

“What are you doing?” She leaned into his side as he wrapped an arm around her to make sure she didn’t fall or slip in any way as she peered at what he was doing

“I’m just-“ but before he could answer, his phone rang as he faced himself in his pwn phones reflection

He could see the visible relaxation and smile disappear as soon as he saw the contact names

“Don’t answer #1, Don’t answer #2, and don’t answer #3”

Despite their contact names, he still answered, internally praying that he wouldn’t regret this call

“Oi Hinata, you were right, I owe ya five bucks since he answered,” Atsumu’s accent sounded over the call

“Sakusa, hey hey hey!” Bokuto the bright star called through the phone

“Uncle Bo!” Your daughter jumped against her father as she held onto his wrist until Sakusa lowered the phone, letting her see her “uncles”

Though he never agreed to let them be her uncles

“Oh! Mini Sakusa!” All three of their eyes twinkled as they all beamed looking to your guys’ daughter as if she was their own

“What do you guys want?”

“So cold, Omi~” Atsumu whined. “You haven’t been at practice for so long, the scrimmages haven’t been the same.”

“But it’s also nice not to worry about blocking or trying to dig Sakusa’s nasty cut shots cause of his wrists…” Hinata smiled looking relieved

“Oh! How’s Y/N’s pregnancy? Did you guys find out the gender yet?” Bokuto chimed

“She’s doing alright and no, we wanted it to be a surprise..” Sakusa replied

“Daddy?”

“Hm?” Sakusa looked to her as she now made herself comfortable in his lap as he leaned forward, putting the phone down

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close

“Where’s mommy?”

“She’s-“

“Right here~” you waddled down the hall, your hair and clothes disheveled, unknowingly disrupting sakusa

“Mommy!” Your little girl sprung from Sakusa’s lap, making her way to you, latching her arms around your belly as best as you could

“Careful, D/N,” Sakusa worried seeing how she ran up to you, trowing your arms against her belly

“Why?” She held onto your hand as you walked toward the couch Sakusa leaned himself against before you lead her to sit down in his lap once again

“Oh, the Jackals. Hi guys,” you waved as you laid yourself down on your side on the couch, your head

“Y/N!” They all chimed, as if they all shared the same brain cell

this only confirmed Sakusa’s theory the more they said or did things simultaneously

“How’s pregnancy?” Atsumu chimed as he clearly lounged about in his own apartment

“Tiring,” you spoke just loud enough for the phones mic to catch what you said as you looped your arm around his shoulders, reaching for his hand to which he linked together

“But a lot more manageable since we know what to expect,” you yawned into your shirt, a habit you picked up from being with Sakusa

He used to cringe and shy away at your touch but now he didn’t even think twice about yours or D/N’s

“Hm, we’ll be uncles for more kids,” hinata beamed

“We didn’t even say-“

“The best uncles,” you nudged Sakusa’s shoulder playfully to which he just sighed, squeezing your hand in return

“Speaking of tired, why aren’t you sleeping in bed?” Sakusa turned his head, letting it rest on the edge of the couch as you brought your hand through his hair

“I didn’t want to sleep alone, plus it sounded so fun out here, how could I miss out on all the fun?” You reached down, booking your daughter’s nose as she stared at you

And then your belly

“Daddy?” She stood in between his legs as all the adults watched, curious at her next words

“Where do babies come from?” She stared with her wide eyes at Sakusa as you snickered, burying your head into his shoulders, eyes heavy

Atsumu choked on the water, doing a small spit tic as Hinata paused his game to laugh

Bokuto erupted into a big fit of laughter, enough to wake Akaashi beside him before he shushed him, cuddling him back to sleep but this is a different story

“Oh this should be good..” you laughed as all eyes fell upon Sakusa, the laughter dying down and being held in his teammates’ mouths as they awaited 

“Uh...” Sakusa’s mind raced as he panicked 

he knew this question would come up at some point 

but not like this 

at least not now 

your eyebrow raised naturally as sakusa’s breathing picked up 

“Next question...” he changed the subject, not ready to answer 

“But what about babies? How did one get in mommy’s tummy?” 

“Yeah, omi, how?” you joined in on the fun only to be on the receiving end of Sakusa’s famous glare that only softened for you after a second 

Now sakusa really regretting answering the call 

“It’s a secret, you’re not old enough to know yet,” Sakusa evaded 

“Aw, but-” 

“Next question, pumpkin,” He looked to her as if pretending it was just the two of them, parting her raven hair, ticking it behind her little ear

“Oh Omi, your ears are so adorably red and hot,” you teased, brushing your finger along the back of his bright red ears, purposefully pointing them out as the jackals laughed too 

the day continued with good memories as were made

He never thought he would feel this way in his life but

If he told himself 4-6 years ago that he would be married, let alone go on a date with someone and actually tolerate them, he wouldn’t have believed himself

but now he was grateful that you had crossed his path

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

ALSO! Reference meme I made: this tik tok sound

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04  @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan​ @turquoiselace​ @macaronnv​  @oxmaddy​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei​ @skyh20​ @yehetstudies​ @that-chick212​ @proherotheflamehashira​

[incendiobrock]

Stuck in the in Between

Summary: Colby’s and (any gender) reader’s relationship was confusing. It was as if they were a couple, but nothing was official. Kat had finally convinced Y/n to talk to Colby about it at a party, but the conversation didn’t go the way any of them had expected. 

Warnings: angst, cussing, alcohol consumption

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

Colby: Are you coming over for the party??

Your phone made a faint ding noise from inside your shorts pocket, to which you immediately pulled it out to check who had messaged you. You gleamed reading over the name of the messenger. The most beautiful, blue eyed boy, with nice brown hair, someone who you were lucky to have gotten close to within the past year of meeting him.

Y/n: I wouldn’t miss it ;)

You quickly sent back. Shoving the phone deep into the pocket you had just pulled it out from. Colby had been asking you for days about whether or not he should expect to see you at the party him and Sam were hosting. You had already told him for what felt like 100 times that you would be there in a heart beat.

Colby had a special hold over your heart. He was always so gentle, and caring towards you. He made sure that you knew he would be there for you, in any and every situation you could possible find yourself in. Colby had you practically wrapped around his finger, you couldn’t think of a moment that went by where you weren’t thinking about him.

Your friendship had flourished over time into something that most of your other friends had started to pick up on as well. Kat and Tara were constantly teasing you about how much time you and Colby seemed to spend together.

It was true. Colby Brock consumed about every second of your life. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved the bond that you both had created together. There was a trust in your relationship that you often found difficult to share with others. It was ideal. It was comfortable. And it was something that you were terrified of losing.

“Are you ready y/n?” Tara’s voice filled the car, pulling you out of your deep thoughts. Your eyes shot over to meet hers, nodding happily in response. You quickly step out of the car, shutting the passenger side door behind you, and following closely behind Tara entering the foyer of the house. You both had shown up early to help the boys with the final touches, and because Jake had practically begged you so he could see Tara sooner.

“Hey gorgeous.” Colby’s voice sounded through the empty foyer. Your heart fluttered at his words as his arms tightly wrapped you in a hug. You buried your face into his chest, reveling in the familiarity of his body against your own.

“Hi Colbs.” You chuckled, calling him the nickname you had given him a couple weeks into knowing him. You pulled away from each other, Colby smiling widely. His tattoo covered arm quickly made its way around your waist, pulling your side against his. “Let’s go get something to drink before everyone else shows up” He said, dragging you both towards the kitchen.

He opened up the fridge to reveal all the drinks they had purchased to host the party. He took hold of his favorite white claw and popped open the tab, taking a long sip. You reached in and grabbed your favorite drink as well, anticipating the arrival of other guests.

As the party picked up you and Colby went around the whole house saying hi to people and catching up with them about their lives. You had quite a few drinks at this point, feeling super good. You jumped slightly as Kat took hold of your arm, dragging you out of the crowd.

“Colby can’t keep his eyes off of you!” She said loudly, a smile etched onto her face. You glanced over towards Colby, making eye contact straight away. He was in fact looking at you, glancing up and down your body from a far.

“Yeah he’s probably just curious where I went, I’ve been with him all night.” You responded back, not thinking much about the whole incident.

“No, he has been like that all night. I saw him watching you, standing super close, he totally likes you. But we knew that.” Kat said. “Tara thinks so too.” She added on after a short pause.

“We are just friends Kat. Besides, there are so many others that Colby could be with. There’s no reason he would like me.” Although the thought of Colby liking you made your heart do somersaults, you knew that you were both just super good friends.

“Do you want to be more than friends?” She asked, hoping to get the inside scoop. Your cheeks burned at the question. Of course you wanted to be more, have an actual romantic relationship with the one guy who has treated you the way you deserve. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but it probably will never happen.” You responded back, doubt rushing over your body. Kat urged you to talk to Colby, tell him how you really felt. “There’s no way he won’t feel the same way, trust me. With the way he looks at you and the way he has always got a hand on you, I know he wants it too.” You finally agreed and told Kat that you would do it, mainly to keep her from asking more questions about how you felt towards him, but also because you were curious to know if he truly did like you the way Kat made it seem.

“Hey, where’d you run off to?” Colby asked as you rejoined the group. His hand immediately finding itself wrapped around your waist. “I was with Kat, do you mind if we head up to your room?” To which Colby nodded. You both excused yourself from the group and headed up the grand staircase.

You sat on the couch right after entering Colby’s bedroom. He sat down next to you, but further away from you than normal. Maybe he could tell there was something on your mind.

“So I was thinking.. well actually Kat and I were talking about it and she made me realize some things about us and so now I was just curious if it was true.” You stated. Noticing as his eyebrow furrowed together slightly.

“Yeah okay. I’m your best friend, you can ask me anything.” He said, a soft expression held delicately on his face. You felt yourself shudder at the fact that he said “best friend”.

“Well you see… About that. We are super, super close and flirty and always seems to be all over each other in some way or another. And I want to be more… Than just friends, I mean-“ you rushed the last part, anxious of his response.

The room was strangely silent for a moment, and you were becoming increasingly aware of the alcohol flowing through your body. Colby’s weight shifted on the sofa, his mouth parting slightly, as if he was about to begin speaking, but nothing ever came out of his mouth.

You felt your eyes become watery as you looked down at your hands that were fidgeting on your lap. “N-never mind, just forget I said that. I’m sorry, I’ve had to much to drink I guess.” You felt ashamed, embarrassed. Kat had hyped this up so much that you felt certain Colby would instantly agree with you.

“Look, y/n… I love you so much, and I’m so glad that we are able to be this close, but I don’t like you like that… You’re amazing, don’t get me wrong, but you’re my best friend.” He seemed to feel guilty about this whole interaction, about ever having to break your heart the way he knew that he was. He could read you from a mile away, you knew that from experience.

“Why do you treat me like I’m more then?” You spit back, feeling anger take over the sadness. “If you don’t want me to be with you, then why do you treat me like you’re already my boyfriend?”

“I-I don’t know, I never saw it like that, we have always been close I thought that’s just how our friendship was.” You could tell the guilt was really getting to him, but it didn’t change the fact that your heart was shattering.

“Okay, well I will give you some choices. It’s either we are friends who act like normal friends, we start dating and keep acting like a couple, or I’m leaving and we are neither. I’m not going to be stuck in this in between bullshit with you.” And with that being said you got up from his couch and left the room. You made sure to call an Uber because you would never get behind the wheel and drive, considering what you had to drink.

There is no way in hell you’re going to waste your life being stuck in that sort of relationship. Giving up the possibility of a real relationship all for someone who doesn’t want you in the same way that you want them.

“Y/n!” His voice called out, but it was too late. You were already getting into the Uber. You glanced out the window and saw his eyes following the car as he lost you, along with the relationship you had both built over the years.

[boytouya]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘈 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦

words:2.3k

WARNING: graphic depictions of violence, blood, angst, open ended/ambiguous ending, descriptions of death.

request: “Can i request sukuna x male reader. Where reader keeps reincarnating with each lifetime for a curse and every time he remembers sukuna, he dies after gaining memories back. You can choose if theres a good ending or angst. Thank you king! I fell in love with him especially after reading that one shot i had to watch jjk and hes hot! Thank you for turning me into a sukuna simp! Much love”

a/n: i went,,,overboard with this request 🗿 BUT IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITESSIJEHSHE i’m honored to have introduced you to such a foine man

When you were five, only then had you understood the curse deemed ‘Ryoumen Sukuna.’ A rather tall man with two heads, one of which had splattered blood onto your sneakers. You understood the concept of death, of course, but could never truly comprehend the feeling of nothingness after watching your life flash before your eyes until nineteen. But there you stood, clutching the loop of your shorts when you witnessed the murder of your entire village. You didn’t know evil could have a moral compass, but the tall curse seemed to exclude half of the women and children. After the widening of youthful eyes and curdling screams you learned the monster took likings to things too. Women, with shaking forms and broken spirits. He’d stop before them, stare at them with eyes that could- in fact- kill, if they truly wanted to. But then he stopped in front of you.

“Close your eyes, Brat.” Death's hands were just as large as your family painted them out to be, if not larger. Calloused and riddled with blood as they are placed over your ears. You do as he- it says, squeezing your eyes shut and enclosing your eyes behind the meat of your palms just to be extra careful. You can see stars behind your eyelids, just as you can feel the sickening twang of death lingering in the air. You were aware it would happen at some point, Death would find its place for you over and over and over again, you’d been told since the day you were born.

There’s another sound, only muted under large palms. You don’t need your sense of sight or hearing to know what it was, the warm chunks splattering onto your skin was enough. Immediately, you flinched. When you opened your eyes, there were piercing eyes staring straight into your own. It looked so human, but something was off. Uncanny, as if it took years to manipulate its flesh and bone to emulate humans to a T. But there was nothing human behind those eyes, instead a void of nothingness. Death itself. If Death could express interest, you’d have thought that was the expression it was imitating. It offers a hand, one of four. Larger than your face, with sharp claws that could almost be described as talons. Darkened by dirt and remains of your loved ones, if it truly wanted to kill you, it could. It could tear you limb from limb with the wave of a finger. And it knew that.

So you took the hand, and he became your second home.

When you were ten, you learned about the red string of fate. It could never be broken, and those connected by it would always reunite, no matter the circumstances. You often had nightmares, those of which filled with blurred faces and sharp pain that reached you in your lucid state. Dreams of talons, piercing eyes, and double headed monsters. You dreamt under the stars, tasted metal on your tongue, and choked on smoke that wasn’t actually there. You dreamt of facial markings, details that you couldn’t exactly place, a name that you couldn’t quite remember. It left your tongue feeling thick in your mouth, racked tremors through your body, and caused premature dark circles to accumulate under your eyes.

When you were nineteen, you experienced your last breath. The air was stolen from your lungs, crushed under years of heartbreak and terror, and snatched from you in the dead of night. Your eyes glazed over, and nothingness overtook you. It left you for someone else to find, cold and lifeless. A void, similar to the eyes you had finally placed. But that didn’t matter much then, you had already drifted away from your body.

And that was that.

Thus, the cycle repeated. Under different names, different ages, different genders. There was always something gnawing away at your conscience, you felt as though you were forgetting something. But when you finally remembered, it was too late. And there was nothing you could do about it.

It was almost like deja vu, stepping outside your home to find blood splattered on the concrete floor. It made your blood run cold, sent a tremor through your body and made you feel like you were five again. Small and defenseless. You take it as your best interest to go back inside before you pass out, but the second you whip your body around you meet something- someone?- large and sturdy.

“Sukuna.” That was it, the sour taste at the tip of your tongue, the lingering sensation at the back of your brain. Him. He didn’t look the same, no, much smaller with tufts of pink hair. There’s something behind his eyes this time, something almost irrevocably human. For some reason that’s much scarier than what you remember. What you think you remember. He’s much more human, but the way he looks at you is everything but humane. He looks frustrated, angry at something, as if he’ll implode any second and go on a rampage. Dread bubbles up in your stomach, nearly erupting through your mouth as bile. It felt as though something should be happening, like something usually happened when the itch went away. He chuckles, low in his throat as he cranes his neck to put his face uncomfortably close to your own. His hands, still large, find their way to your wrist, gripping your right hand uncomfortably tight. For a moment, you consider how long a trip to the hospital would be if he shattered the bone beneath his fingers. But instead there’s a jolt of electricity that would’ve had you yanking your hand back if he weren’t holding it.

“What? You look different.” He all but purrs, inspecting your palm with long nails. Not long enough to be talons, but longer than those of a claw. It was true, you did look different. He wondered if you spent your lifetimes looking exactly the same. That couldn’t have been possible, he would’ve found you much easier, then. Still quite boyish, as if the body you were in didn’t originally belong to you. Clearly grown out of cargo shorts and polos, much taller than you were before. There was no way he could have forgotten you, the way you jumped when the remains of your loved one splattered across your legs. The way you stared back at him with a look of acceptance, the way you grabbed his hand and allowed him to lead you out of the village. It explained the body memories perfectly, the feeling of large palms on your head and remnants of a brain splattering onto your knees.

“Last time I saw you,” He let’s go of your wrist with a bored expression, then replaces its spot with the top of your head. He shoves you down, and you make an effort to ignore the crack your knees make when they smack against the concrete. Then, he crouches down to stare you directly in the eye, just like he had the first time you met. His eyes were no longer dark, instead a deep shade of red that caught light from the moon. They reminded you of vials of blood. “You were this tall. Much cuter in this century.”

“And you were bigger.” Sukuna laughs as if hearing that was the funniest thing in the world. He leans his weight into you and uses you as a support beam, laughing until his ribs burn and beg for a break. But how could he laugh at a time like this? He didn’t think it was weird? He’s existed for centuries, murdered for millennias and only now has he seen you. That wasn’t how it worked, when you died, you died. But Sukuna was a walking oxymoron to that statement. When he died, if he died, he would return. He’d return through you, the last fragments of his soul would stay bound to yours until the end of time. Perhaps that’s how he knew, how he remembered. Perhaps that’s why he still took the time to find you, even after countless years of failure. It was peculiar, but not as much as being bound to Death himself. It was a sick game of turning the phrase ‘Til’ death do you part,’ because in your case it was literal.

“You’re still a brat.” His voice is closest to something fond, as if he’s reminiscing sweet memories. It was much different on your account, and part of you wondered if Sukuna understood that. He makes no effort to help you up (he explains that you’re “a big boy now”) as he invites himself into your apartment. Nothing special, he doesn’t care much for family photos or if you have them, but the stacks of letters and books on your table peak his interest. He tears apart envelopes as if he owns them, reads through the contents and discards them to the floor if he deems them useless. The way he sits nearly breaks your chair, and, honestly, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

So you sit beside him.

“You were so scared,” He says, almost as if he were bragging. But he was known to be arrogant and cocky, that was just his nature. He didn’t truly mean it like that, in fact, he looked quite reverent after letting the thought drift into the air. It was kind of funny, such a powerful thing fawning over past memories. But that wasn’t how this should go, you had your memory back, so why hasn’t anything happened? “When you grabbed my hand you stopped shaking.”

“...”

“It’s a shame I couldn’t keep you long,” He visibly frowns, the skin around his lips worry, but you can't tell if it’s genuine or not. He looks at you with something knowing the second the thought enters your head. “I looked for you, at first. You died young, for a human.”

Ninteen. ‘I should have been there,” he wants to add.

“Why aren’t I dying now?” You interrupt and let the panic sink in, the thought of impending doom sits on your shoulders because, really, it could happen at any moment. But this time, you don’t want it to. You remember accepting death when it came to your door at the young age of five, nineteen, countless times over and over. You had only ever gotten this far, you weren’t ready yet. You couldn’t start over, not now. “Sukuna?”

The question sours his mood in the blink of an eye, and instead of looking through your things, he raises himself from his seat to rest his palms on the table. It seemed he had a thing for staring down at people, making them cower under his stone cold gaze. You note the way his jaw clenches. You open your mouth to speak again, but he seems to have other plans. He squeezes your cheeks, making your lips purse together under the pressure of his large fingers. The movement feels familiar, like he’s done it before. The five years you spent with him were still a bit of a blur, but you remembered holding his hand quite often. He’d tell you to close your eyes if there was something he didn’t want you to see, he’d ruffle your hair a bit too hard, let you sleep on his back if he was out in the town. But that was all you remembered. He remembered it all.

“Respect your elders,” He lets go and sits back down as if he hadn’t just thrown a tantrum over you interrupting him. Sukuna was centuries old, but even then, he’d exhibit immature behavior sometimes. Living for so long had to get boring (and lonely) at some point, perhaps that was why he looked for you. He did consider you something close to family, after all. In truth, there were some lifetimes where you met. Some when you were friends, something more than that, and something inseparable. And that’s why you hadn’t died yet, you didn’t remember it all. “It’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re talking.”

“You’re much more handsome in this life.” His smile is much more intimidating than sweet, the sinister curl to his lips would only ever be associated with bloodshed in your eyes. But it was much more than that. Nights of sleeping together, days of laughter and flirtatious comments, soft moments that only you had seen. And it was bittersweet, because he knew the second he’d jog your memory you’d be gone. It wasn’t just a curse for you, but for him. Maybe it was his punishment for hurting so many people, dragging an innocent soul down with him and hanging them by the red string of fate. The comment makes your skin prickle with heat. Sukuna was quite the charmer when he wanted to be, easily picking at your weak spots with whatever you wanted to hear. But the comment was much more for the sake of his own, instead of yours.

Sukuna stands, hot on his heels as he holds out his hand one last time. If something were to happen to you tonight he’d make the most out of it, just as he did countless times over and over. So many years of starting over, getting to know you in various different bodies, realizing that being trapped away was the only way you’d get to live a full life, it was always on his mind. You were always on his mind.

So you take his hand. And for the millionth time, he’d become your second home.

taglist:

@ryoukuna @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @kissesdenji @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @princejasno @mel-bigia04 @mhasimp666 @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shadows-of-nightmares @rinkindaugly

[bumbleklee]

windblume confession(s)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: (@illusory-torrent) can i ask the meaning behind your url?? just curious. and could i also please request some kaeya and albedo getting competitive over the reader? reader can be gender neutral, i just wanna see my two best bois being competitive haha. thank you!

pairings: albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader (love triangle)

warnings: none! (1.5k words)

a/n: soooo the meaning behind my url - it’s not that special lol. i wanted to make a genshin pun (klee = bee) and this is the first thing i came up with. also bea/bee, bumblebea/bumblebee, yktv

During the Windblume Festival, bouquets of flowers and letters were spilling off of your desk everyday. Despite knowing that most of the gifts came from anonymous senders, your heart still skipped a beat.

Part of you wondered if any of them were a prank. You didn’t see yourself as anything special, you weren’t as feminine and pretty as Barbara or muscular like Wagner, yet quite a few patrons found you good enough to pine over.

You skimmed through the gifts one day to see if you recognized any of the names. There was a letter from Bennett that was clearly addressed to Fischl so you tucked away the special note in a drawer with promises to deliver it later. You also found a letter from one of the Knight’s on your squad - but he was much younger than you and, frankly, the letter sounded like puppy love. Two contrasting bouquets of flowers sat side-by-side on the edge of your desk so you reached for them.

The first bouquet was about a dozen calla lilies tied together with a blue ribbon and the second was cecilia’s in a glass vase. The flowers piqued your interest, your mind already forming an idea about where they came from, and you read the attached cards.

“Meet me in the library,” You read aloud, your fingers tracing the edges of the cardstock. It wasn’t signed by anyone. The second one has a similar message, “Find me in the library.”

You wondered if the flowers were sent by the same person. But then why wouldn’t they state that? The questions made you wonder, again, if this was a trap. Could the flowers be from someone who wanted to mess with you? But despite your doubts, you grabbed your things and headed down the stairs to the library.

When you pushed open the door to the library, you realized you had no idea who or what you were looking for. The library was decorated beautifully, ribbon and flowers displayed on tables or breaks between the bookcases. The room itself smelled fresh, too, unlike its usual dusty aroma. While you glanced around the library, you saw Lisa sitting behind her desk and went to see if she knew what was going on.

“Happy Windblume Festival,” You smiled warmly at your coworker, “You’re not going to believe what I received.”

Lisa stopped reading her book to look up at you, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “Hello, there. So many love-birds flew into your office this morning, I can only imagine what they brought you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Too many unrequited confessions.” She laughed softly at your joke, “Besides that, I received two bouquets of flowers that both told me to meet them here. Isn’t that strange?”

Lisa covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled again, “I think there’s something downstairs who would love to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lisa but thanked her and took off down the stairs, careful not to slip on the wooden steps. As soon as your foot touched the floor, your sight met two men who had stopped bickering less than a moment ago. Kaeya and Albedo stood in front of a table, trying to put themselves back together in your presence.

“What’s going on?” You asked, realizing they were probably waiting for you. “Were the flowers from both of you?”

Kaeya and Albedo looked between each other, seemingly glaring dangers at each other. “I don’t know why he’s here,” Kaeya sneered, motioning to Albedo.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re here,” Albedo parroted, crossing his arms. You had never heard either of the men sound as ticked off as they were now.

“You both told me to meet you in the library,” You explained, confused. “That wasn’t planned?”

“No!” They said in unison.

You rubbed your temples, knowing that this wasn’t going to end easily. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “But can someone explain what’s going on.”

“Mr. Alberich overheard me planning to surprise you during the Windblume Festival and decided to ruin my plans,” Albedo said. When he spoke Kaeya’s name, there was nothing but venom in his tone.

Kaeya shrugged sarcastically, “I had no prior knowledge.”

“You used Klee to eavesdrop.”

“Did I, now?”

Albedo ran a hand through his hair, aggravated and annoyed. He had never liked Kaeya and this only fueled that fire. Kaeya wasn’t fond of Albedo either. He thought he was overrated in Mondstadt and that his admirers could do better.

“I mean,” Kaeya continued, giving Albedo the side eye, “Was it supposed to be a secret? You were awfully careless with the news.”

“My deepest apologies, I wasn’t aware I needed to broadcast my confession to all of Mondstadt before telling Y/N.”

“Your confession?” You wondered, “So the flowers weren’t a joke?”

Albedo looked at you with curious, and confused, eyes. “A joke? Of course not,” He said. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, something you had never seen before, and Albedo fiddled with his gloved fingers nervously.

“I wanted to do that first,” Kaeya interjected, frowning slightly.

Kaeya’s words caught you off guard as well. “You like me, too?” He nodded in response and the three of you stood still for a while. Your mind was racing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t believe not one but two of your coworkers had a crush on you and were confessing to you. But then the nerve-wracking decision came crashing down on you.

You had to pick one of them, right? The whole point of confessions was to find a possible suitor and here you had two options in front of you. Of course, you could reject both of them and run away but was that how you truly felt?

Albedo was soft and genuine. He often painted portraits of you and took you up to Dragonspine so could have snowball fights with Klee. He paid for dinner for you and recommended new books for you to read during your days off. At that moment, they seemed like friendly gestures. But looking back, you realized they were probably acts to one up Kaeya.

Likewise, Kaeya had his own plans to win you over. He spent exciting nights with you at the tavern and never complained about taking you home when you drank too much. Instead of buying you food, Kaeya bought you gifts like jewelry or artifacts. He often accompanied you on commissions, too.

“I need time to think this over,” You finally said. “Please, just agree not to kill each other in the meantime.”

Kaeya grumbled something under his breath, “Fine.”

“Why do you like me?” You asked, looking at Kaeya. “If you’re going to confess, then confess fully.”

The taller man thought for a moment before sending you his classic, cheeky grin. “I like having a challenge and you, my dear, proved to be that challenge.”

“What?” You asked, slightly offended.

“You play hard to get,” Kaeya continued, using his hands to accentuate his words, “I spoiled you for months and you still acted like we were nothing more than friends. Do friends buy each other gold necklaces in hopes they’ll realize you’ve fallen for them? You even have the necklace on to this day.” Instinctively, your fingers coiled around the dainty necklace around your neck that Kaeya had gifted to you weeks ago. When he gave it to you, you recognized it was a peculiar gift but played it off as Kaeya being extravagant. He sharpened his eyes, “Need I mention you’re the most exquisite looking person in Teyvat?”

Your voice caught in your throat and your cheeks burned with the compliment. You nervously played with the hem of your shirt and looked at Albedo for his answer.

“I just think you’re different,” He said simply, “You’re easy to get along with and I enjoy spending time with you. I feel like we’re compatible puzzle pieces.”

If possible, you blushed harder. Both men were darling and you felt like the luckiest person alive by being adored by both of them. As you glanced between the men, your stomach did a backflip. They were both looking at you with such intent and charisma, as if trying to enchant you. The idea of being with either of them made you feel butterflies.

But they are so drastically different, which made the decision that much harder. If you choose Kaeya, your relationship would be fiery and brand new all the time. He was full of adventure and flirting, favoring nightlife and excitement. And with Albedo, it would be calm and joyous. Your days would be spent in flower fields and underneath trees. Both sounded like a dream to you.

“I don’t know who to pick,” You admitted, holding back a sigh of defeat. “I never thought multiple people would like me at once, let alone you two. I just need more time.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked back up the stairs. Your head felt light and your mind was clouded with a million different scenarios. You felt guilty for leaving the men alone but until you could come up with a definite answer, they could wait.