#will i ever show my full face on this blog? probably not

[nanaslutt]

HI NANA ILY spiral anon again i have a request ^.^ reread ur 'stealing ur panties' smau and i'm so obsessed with the nanami one do u think u would ever write perv nanami? like as a coworker or an apartment neighbour stealing ur panties from the laundromat... idk i'm kinda obsessed w the concept n i need it TY <33 -🌀

ʚ cont: fem reader, perv!Nanami, panty stealing, fantasizing, jerking off, masturbation (r!)

ʚ note: my reqests are closed, i just woke up wanting to write a little and found this gem in my inbox

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Perv!Nanami has been working so hard over the past year to get close to you, his pretty little neighbor. You have the same impression of him that everybody else shares about the handsome man; kind, gentle, and caring. And that's exactly what he wants you to think about him when he knocks on your door and asks you if you would like to eat with him because he "ordered too much takeout." Or when he so kindly comes to your house each week to take your laundry down to the shared washers and dryers the apartments provide because of, "convenience."

And of course, you say yes, how could you not? Nanami is such a good guy, and you know your clothes will be safe with him, that he'll treat them good and return them to you folded and smelling like poppies. And because NAnami is such a nice man, you never even think twice when he brings your laundry to you hours later and you're missing a pair or two of panties. You don't worry about it, they always show up sooner or later--and the pink pair sitting on top of the pile of freshly cleaned clothes? You could've sworn those have been missing for weeks but maybe they were just buried at the bottom of the pile and you missed them, yeah, that had to be it.

Nanami doesn't want you growing suspicious and he sure as hell doesn't want you spending your precious money on new panties if you think you're missing your old ones. He convinces you that you've been so busy lately and probably misplaced the undergarments after coming home and peeling your clothes off after a long day. You blush at the thought of Nanami seeing you in such a state, and the look on your face and the way you avert your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you, trying to convince you your panties will show up again.

And they always do. Right after Nanami finishes taking real good care of them, just like he'll do to you one day. After Nanami so generously offers to take your clothes down, he sets the basket on top of the already rattling dryer and closes the door so no one walks in and sees what he's about to do. God, he doesn't know what he would do if you walked in on him like this. At first, Nanami was good about taking your panties and hauling them up to his room to worship them, but the urge to have you only grew every day, leading him to now pull his pants down and wrap your panties around his cock almost the moment he steps inside the laundry room.

Nanami hastily digs through your basket, searching for the prettiest pair of panties as his sore cock throbs against his hard zipper, begging for release. He prays you didn't notice the way his cock strained against his pants when he was convincing you you lost your panties after a long day's work, hoping the basket he held over his crotch covered most of his problem. After acquiring his target, Nanami leans back against the door with his full weight and fishes his cock from his pants, hard and dripping between his legs, a little wetness falling and making contact with the floor.

Nanami wastes no time before holding your panties up to his nose and inhaling, his hand already working furiously over his cock, wet noises, and muffled grunts getting drowned out by the rattling dryer in front of him. The 'nice' man paints generous pictures in his head of his pretty little neighbor exhausted after work, barely closing her door before stripping off her clothes in the hall, leading to her room.

He's unable to stop the groan that surfaces as he drops his head against the door and lets his eyes fall shut, wrapping the part of your panties that touches your cunt against his tip, rubbing his own wetness against yours while jerking himself off with his other hand now, legs spreading the longer he goes. He feels himself already so close to the end as he pictures your dripping body in the shower, scrubbing the day off of you. He would spend so much time helping you get clean if he had the chance. He would also make sure to spend plenty of time washing your tits, wondering how long he could get away with groping you there before you figured out he had ulterior motives for cleaning you.

Nanami pulled his lip between his teeth as he imagined your now soaked body walking out of the shower, leaving a trail of water behind you from your poor job of drying off before you plopped down onto your bed, bedroom already dim as you reached a hand between your thighs, finding that ache, that need between them that would finally relax your sore body after such a hard day.

His thrusts speed up as he vividly watches you in his mind as you push a finger between your folds, gasping in relief before you start up a quick pace, your other hand alternating between playing with your clit and rubbing your chest. It usually doesn't take Nanami long once he gets to this point, his body lurching as his bach arches with spasms, his cock kicking against your panties as he dirties the fabric even more, drenching the poor thong in his thick cum that he would much rather give you, inside you.

The guilt of his acts never ceases to go away after he finishes defiling your panties, but he ignores it the best he can, putting the now ruined panties back in the hamper before he fishes out two more to keep for himself this week. Wonder if he would feel better about his deeds if he learned that his jerk-off fantasy wasn't all that wrong and that the person you use in your own fantasies to get off is your kind, gentle, and caring neighbor.

[nxuvillette]

“WANT ME TO FILL YOU UP?”

BREEDING W/ GENSHIN MEN

synopsis: nothing sounds better than being filled with your boyfriend’s cum.

❥- including : arataki itto, neuvillette, kamisato ayato, wriothesley

❥- note : i honestly kind of liked these !! i hope you all enjoy + reblogs are appreciated :)

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, breeding kink, creampies, mentions of pregnancy (neuvillette , itto , ayato), praising, use of pet names (baby , my love , princess) soft sex (ayato), cockwarming (itto), heavy mentions of cum

♡ ARATAKI ITTO

itto always loved the idea of possibly knocking you up or simply just filling your pretty cunt with all of his cum. it was the hottest thing he could ever imagine. it didn’t help that his cock was so thick that it would almost split you in half whenever the two of you became intimate with each other. he just couldn’t help himself. you were so tight and warm it’s like he was begging to fill you up.

he couldn’t hold back his grunts while he rutted into your cunt. you had been both at it for almost an hour now, and with itto’s stamina, he didn’t show any signs of tiredness. sex with him was always intense and fast. he knew what to do to make your body crumble and shake with so much desire. 

you tugged on the white strands of hair that draped down his shoulders. you were so fucking close. itto could sense it, too. your walls were becoming increasingly tighter with every thrust and it was making it hard for him to resist you. you were so fucking pretty. you took his cock better than anybody else and seeing your cunt suck him in was the biggest turn on. “i-itto! ‘m close!” you cried, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you. 

he chuckled, spreading your legs apart even further to enter deeper into you. “heh, wanna cum, baby? fuck.. i wanna fill you up so bad..” he nibbled on the shell of your ear. “want to carry my babies..? you’d be so pretty with my cum dripping out of you..” 

your ankles then locked around his torso, giving him those desperate eyes he loved so dearly. your pussy clamped around his cock, making him shudder a bit at the sensation. “y-yes! god, itto, yes! fill me with your cum!” you begged.

that was all he needed to hear. itto’s pace suddenly became almost animalistic as he fucked you through your orgasm. your cunt squelched and made some of the most lewd noises, which was like music to his ears. his balls slapped against your puffy clit, aching for that delicious release. it took several more thrusts, but he eventually reached his orgasm. thick, white cum filled your womb. itto swore to god you milked him dry with how much he came. 

he stayed in that position for a moment, making sure that none of his seed leaked out of you. “wanna go again..? i wanna make sure you’re pregnant..” he smirked, nodding his head at you.

♡ NEUVILLETTE

he wasn’t sure what it was about fucking his cum into you that was so hot.

neuvillette had assumed it was probably a dominance thing. the thrill of also possibly getting you pregnant with his child made him harder than a rock. he knew if that day ever did come, you would look absolutely gorgeous with a rounded belly and swollen feet. 

it had been a busy afternoon inside the palais mermonia. countless documents had been handed over to the chief justice himself, so his hands had been full the entire day. he was exhausted, to say the least, so when he saw your pretty face walking into his office he couldn’t help but smile. you were such a relief to his difficult day, and you decided to help him out with all of those stressors he had all day.

your body was sprawled out on the desk neuvillette did his work on. his papers had been pushed to the side so none of them were ruined by the activities you two were indulging in. his thick cock bullied your walls, making your vision hazy from how he pressed against your g-spot. you could tell your lover was in need of this. he was rough and he had this determination swimming in his eyes while he fucked you mercilessly. 

“n-neuvillette! oh! right there!” you sobbed, clenching onto his broad shoulders.

you were such a fucking sight. neuvillette couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world at that very moment. “keep saying it, my love, keep calling for me..” he began to play with the sensitive bud between your legs. “want me to fill you up..? make you a mommy to my children..?”

the idea flowed into your head and although it was hot, it also left this swell in your chest. he wanted you to bear his children and be his forever. that’s all you ever wanted. “yes.. please, neuvillette..!” you whined.

he smiled before grabbing your legs and pressing them against the desk. the tired wood began to creak at the constant movement of your bodies, but neuvillette didn’t give a single concern. the angle was deep, so deep that you swore he was fucking your cervix with how fast his thrusts were. your cries echoed across the walls loud enough that surely someone outside heard, but no one would ever dare to interrupt the chief justice and his lover.

neuvillette’s hips stuttered one last time and his orgasm hit him like a wave. his cum spurted into your walls, blanketing them with white. there was so much that he swore some of it leaked onto the floor. 

you could hardly move, but judging by neuvillette’s expression, he looked like he had another round left in him.

♡ KAMISATO AYATO

being in a relationship with ayato of all people meant that there were constantly many eyes set on you. you were with someone that had such a high status in inazuma. it was not much of a surprise when you would see people staring at you in public, or giving you respectful bows.

ayato fell in love with you for many reasons. he adored you so much that he wanted to take that next step and start a family with you. he wanted your love to be permanent in his life. 

he had fantasized about it for quite a while. the image of you pregnant with his child and showing off your belly to everyone on inazuma. he wanted nothing more than that, so after a long day of taking on commissions for the clan, he decided to unwind with you in bed that evening. all he could think about all day was coming home to your sweet smiling face. 

your legs were thrown over his shoulders. ayato’s fingers were laced with yours while he pumped his cock into your needy hole. you were so beautiful at that moment. your glossy lips that were parted open with sweet moans slipping through them, and those pretty eyes that kept crossing every moment he reached your g-spot. he truly was blessed to have such a gorgeous wife.

“you’re so beautiful, princess, look at you..” he whispered, lovingly. his free hand went to trace along your figure, drinking in the sight of your sweaty body. “you’d look even more beautiful with my baby in you.. yeah? a nice heir for me?”

you shuddered at the thought of that. you knew for a while that ayato wanted someone to take over the clan someday when he wouldn’t be able to hold the reigns anymore. it sounded so pleasant. his cum being inside you and knocking you up turned you on so much. “yes.. ayato! let’s have a b-baby!” you whined, nodding eagerly at his request. 

he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at your words. he was going to make sure you had the best pregnancy ever. ayato then began to speed up his pace. your cunt was squeezing his cock so perfectly he was losing himself within you. how could you be so flawless? 

he groaned loudly as he let go inside of you. a warmth spread across your tummy as his cum filled your womb. it felt so amazing. you honestly craved it more than you thought you would. 

ayato smiled to himself. he knew he made the right choice that day when he first met you.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was always open to trying new things with you, with your consent of course. some things were tried and failed, but the one thing that always remained was his breeding kink. he enjoyed seeing your pretty cunt leak with white cum after he was done with you. 

you decided to make a surprise visit to the fortress of meropide. it wasn’t unusual for you to pop in and speak with your boyfriend for a little while when he had the time, but your visit lasted a little longer than you had anticipated. 

you were sitting on wriothesley’s lap. his dick was drilling into you at such a rough pace you had to hold onto him to make sure you didn’t fall. his hands were both set on your waist where he bounced you on his thick cock. his icy blue eyes were watching your every facial expression. he loved seeing you like that. all fucked out and drooling over the fact that he was making you feel like you were on the moon.

he groped the globe of your ass tightly. you could hardly keep your moans contained from how great the pleasure was. “wriothesley! ah! i’m so close..!” your nails dug into his shoulder blades. 

he started to nibble at your neck, leaving a few marks on your skin. “yeah..? fuck, me too, baby.” he pressed his forehead against yours, making eye contact with you. “want me to cum inside you..? fill you nice and good..?” 

you whimpered at the mere thought of that. you honestly loved his breeding kink more than he did. “yes.. fuck, wrio, i need you..!” you grind your hips into him to show how desperate you were for him.

wriothesley then took your hips, holding them in place while he slammed upwards into you. the wind was practically knocked out of your lungs at how aggressive his thrusts became. he was hitting every delicious spot inside of you that made your mind become instantly foggy. your head fell onto his shoulder. you couldn’t help but moan into his ear about how badly you wanted him to knock you up. how he’d make such a great daddy to your baby.

without warning, wriothesley came. his cum leaked into your pussy, making a mess on his cock from the mix of your and his cum. he could care less, though. 

“you’re gonna make a nice momma.. i just know it, princess.” he cooed, kissing your face.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[jeondesu]

ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3

this is an old repost from my deleted blog !

방찬/BANG CHAN.

chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.

리노/LEE KNOW.

lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.

창빈/CHANGBIN.

constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.

현진/HYUNJIN.

treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.

한/HAN.

he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.

필릭스/FELIX.

the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.

승민/SEUNGMIN.

thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.

아이엔/JEONGIN.

very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.

[signedkoko]

Hello Koko! I Hope you had a good day/night, and that you are doing well and not overworking yourself:)

I think I saw that you didn’t have requests at the moment but that they were open so here a little request for headcanon/oneshot with Vox, Alastor and Angel dust separately with overlord gn!reader? (If you don’t take 3 at a time maybe only Vox & Alastor?)

They Thinks s/o is sweet, like they’re always smiling and being kind of everyone most of the time, they can’t believe they would even be able to hurt a fly even if they’re an overlord

but then they get told she just unalived her colleague (they were both leaders of the entreprise) because she wanted to be in full possession of their entreprise, maybe they owned a model enterprise or were music producers (like they were the one selling every musics in hell or sum like that?) how do they react?

(Really sorry if it’s unclear or if something is wrong, thanks for reading my request!)

-🐚

Alastor | Vox [Romantic]

In which you are their sweet little overlord who'd never be cruel! ...Or so they thought. Reader is genderneutral.

Your company was your baby, your castle, your absolute everything

And for the longest time, you'd always shared it with the co-founder

They had a lovely personality but worked behind the scenes for the most part while you acted on the main stage

Hell, you'd even introduced them to your otherworldly partner, Alastor, and had only told him of the good

So it was in fact quite a surprise when you turned up home with bloody hands and the most joyous smile on your face, almost as wide as your wedding day

That in itself wasn't out of the norm; you were an overlord after all! Alastor knew you could handle yourself, as much as you opted to ignore it

" Oh Al, I have great news! "

" Do tell, my dear! "

When you explained that the company was all yours, he was quick to catch on

Now that, that managed to surprise him

" I really thought you loved the gal! "

Even more surprising is how you'd managed to hide your true feelings from him for so long; he was sure he could have sniffed out your malice

But you were just that good at hiding it

He probably makes a joke about how you could be plotting his murder as we speak

" Maybe! "

His smile falters a slight bit

But you don't notice

By Vox's own request, your enterprise was kept unattached from his own; merely partners

This was because it meant better publicity if two companies got along so well, but also because he didn't want you to be overcome with the demands of his two co-founders

Yeah, Velvette and Valentino pissed him off to double hell and back, but he considered them friends

A few times, the V's and you and your co-founder would host lavish dinner parties, discussing economic growth and working together on projects

You never seemed to shy away from introducing your partner in industry, and as far as Vox could tell, you were as close as friends could be before anything got steamy

You were just the friendliest person he'd ever met; the number of fans you had showed that, but you'd even gotten favour from the other two V's with little effort on your behalf

So, of course, he was stunned when you called him in the middle of work

" You know you're the first to hear all my company news; I am now the sole owner! "

He could hear you smile through the phone, which almost scared him, and soon your phone was fizzling as he travelled through it

The first thing he noticed was that you were both standing in a puddle

A red puddle

Fuck

Ok

" Thats great and all, but lets get you out of here, and maybe—yeah, maybe we can call in a cleanup crew. "

He is your number one PR team; your overtaking of the company is seen as 'heroic' because you ' fought against a corrupt co-founder'

It surprises him, but he's almost proud of you; you are crazy strong and crazy capable

Author's Note - I do accept up to three characters for headcanons, but as per my FAQ I don't write Angel! Either way, welcome to the blog (again) shell/conch anon! Your idea is very lovely 🖤

[ne-nene-ne]

♡ How to gain the dragon's affection ♡

-> things you can do to make this handsome fae weak in the knees

malleus x reader (fluff!)

Wear or carry the things he's gifted you!

Whether it's a necklace, bracelet, or even a mini gargoyle statue, have it on you! Malleus will beam with pride when he sees it on your person. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person, so he'd love seeing you dressed in the things that he, himself has chosen and gifted you.

Indulge him in his passion for exploring ruins and his love for gargoyles!

If you show even the tiniest bit of interest in gargoyles or ruin exploring, you will see Malleus' eyes light up immediately and he will begin talking about it for hours. Please allow him to do so. Not many share his passion or are interested in these types of things (if at all), please listen to him ramble on. Heck, join the Gargoyle Studies Club! Give this dude some company because he's pretty much the only member there. 😭 And look, he's aware that not everyone is interested in the same things he is, but if you at least put in the effort to listen and try to understand, he'd be a happy fae

Include him in your activities!

We already know how much of a complex he has towards being invited/uninvited, so if you constantly make it a point to include him in whatever you're doing, he will feel loved. I don't think he'd be picky about what kind of activity you'd be doing. He'd be open-minded to whatever it is. In fact, he'd try to find possible ways to make it easier on you if it's a difficult task. If it's an artsy/creative activity, like painting, there's a chance he'll either be pretty good at it at first try, or he'll end up making a bit of a mess. I also don't think he'd mind much of this either, even if he did end up looking silly. He would laugh it off heartily and probably be like, "How interesting...!" He's curious about your ways and is very much willing to learn. His adoration for you will just increase if you try to teach him

Help him raise his tamagotchi!

He absolutely loves his Roaring Drago and so if you offer to help him "raise" it or offer to watch over it whenever he's busy, he'll fall more in love with you. Not only will he feel closer to you as you both nurture the little creature, he might even begin to see a future with you and your own little ones (if you ever had that in mind) and oh, how he knows how much he'd love that life dearly if it was spent with you.

Share that full-sized cake with him!

This one is oddly specific but as seen in his profile, Malleus dislikes full-sized cakes because he tried eating one entirely by himself 😅 (ofc he wouldn't feel great afterwards). You might be met with a resistant attitude or sour face from him (out of instinct) when you bring out that whole cake, but show him that it isn't as bad as he thinks when he shares it with someone. Maybe he'll like it! And if he doesn't, well then you guys can smear the leftovers on each other's faces and have a bit of fun!

This poor boy has just been left out on a lot. Make him feel welcomed, wanted, and loved and he will adore you forever 🥺❤️

a/n: not really proofread tbh but it was a fun one! I might just turn this into a series and do the same for other twst charas. I'm thinking of Azul or Leona next, hmm

And OKAY so I originally posted this on @lyneira (my brand new writing blog) but my posts on there aren't showing up in the tags yet so I guess I'll still be posting some of my writing here until tumblr allows them to be seen 😭 somebody pls interact with my new blog so that tumblr doesn't think I'm a bot 😔

[arminsumi]

🔞 WHO IS SHE? (2)

GOJO さとる

A Kyoto student gives the Six Eyes a run for his money during the tournament. Are they really fighting or just flirting?

M.LIST

2k

Synopsis : After a long back-and-forth fight full of flirting, Satoru loses. You win the bet. Afterwards, you overhear him boasting about getting a blowjob to Suguru, so you decide to show both losers how weak your mouth can make them!

Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+ content : rivalry, sexual innuendos, flirting, giving blowjobs (Satoru + Suguru at the same time), sub!Gojo + sub!Geto, dom!reader, brief edging (poor Satoru), +++

Tags : @hlrnet / @froufrousnowman / @luffysfav / @weirdlychaotic / @r0ckst4rjk / @satoryaa / @elicheel / @boketj / @armani78 / @maxytx-blog

Playme : She's My Collar

Satoru felt something cut his cheek.

He stopped, felt up the stinging wound with his fingertips and looked at the blood, then darted his eyes nervously around his environment in search of you.

Not this shit again. We’ve just begun… is she hunting me down or something?

“Hey Sex Eyes.” You greeted jokingly. “Sorry, I mean Six Eyes.”

Satoru’s head swivelled around to find you. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you sitting cross-legged on one of your freaky optical illusions.

“Hey Kyoto Princess.” He sneered. But he was nervous now that you were here. “You must be obsessed with me to seek me out so quickly. The event's just begun.”

You fake gasp, “Me? Obsessed with you? No wayyy!”

He watched your lips curl into a naughty smile and he felt a small shiver wrack his body.

Satoru looked at you like he was trying to undress you with his eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy, pay attention – aww I almost had you there!” you kicked your feet childishly after Satoru narrowly avoided… something.

It still nicked his neck. And it pissed him off that he couldn’t see your technique.

Fighting with Satoru felt like having sex. That’s what you said at some point just to fluster him. He panted and glared at you after finding unsteady footing on blistered ground.

He felt checkmated and felt his blood boil. You’re so tiny, you shouldn’t be able to fuck him up this bad.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” you asked.

“The consequences of losing to you.” He answered with a serious face. He was thinking about the bet you made with him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I've changed my mind; fuck your bet, I’m not pathetic enough to lose just to get my dick sucked by some fuckin’ princess – who probably can’t even do it right.”

“Aw you’re so full of pride…” you replied disappointedly, “What a pity. I liked it when you were pathetic for me. And I was looking forward to seeing your…” you made your cheek bulge with the tip of your tongue, “… seeing your losing face.”

Satoru’s cheeks burned.

“Fuck you.” He retaliated.

⁕⁕⁕

“Suguru, she’s tailing me.”

“Damn, she’s obsessed with you.” Suguru joked.

“Have you tried using your dragon on her?” Satoru asked, nervously looking around for you.

“Nah man I haven’t tried nothing on her; but I can try. I’m curious.”

At some point, Suguru tried to launch a surprise attack on you with his dragon curse. You looked at him, after splitting the dragon down its middle, as if Suguru’s attempt was the most pathetic thing a man has ever done in front of you.

“She’s a fucking nightmare!” Suguru growled when he reunited with Satoru.

“Tell me about it…” Satoru replied, doubled over with his hands on his knees. He looked tired.

You waved at them. They had to avoid you for a while.

They put their heads together and thought up a plan to try and throw you off balance. A joint attack to weaken you so that Satoru could win – definitely against the rules.

You thought you caught Satoru alone, but ended up being sandwiched between the two best friends. Suguru smirked behind you and Satoru grinned like a jackass in front of you.

“Oh, are you tag teaming me? Isn’t this against the rules?” you laughed.

There was an underlying sexual tension. Suguru restrained you in an oddly erotic position, roughly pinning your arms behind your back with his veiny hands. Your ass grazed his crotch and it drove him nuts. He could smell your perfume – it made his head fuzzy like he was high.

Catching your breath, you made a comment, “Damn, I can’t judge your faces… are you guys gonna kill me or fuck me?” you laughed.

“Hey, I mean, one of the rules of the tournament is to not kill each other, right?” Suguru murmured.

Satoru squatted in front of you, emulating your pose, and made his face level with yours. He shadowed you.

“You know what people are gonna talk about after today? “Oh, you know that big-mouthed Kyoto princess lost to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. She really was just all talk.”” Satoru taunted.

You went silent. Satoru looked smug. They thought you were silent because you thought you were defeated.

⁕⁕⁕

A week earlier.

“Hey, Satoru, did you hear about the Kyoto student that’s coming to this year’s tournament?”

Satoru lazily turned his head, suckling on an ice lolly. The summer heat was at its peak that day. He and Suguru loitered around the vending machines in the shade of a blossoming tree.

“Who?”

Suguru said your full name. Satoru furrowed his brows.

“And who is she?” he sneered.

“Apparently she’s a special grade like us. I heard Yaga talking to Gakuganji on the phone yesterday…”

Satoru laughed when Suguru told him more about the Kyoto student.

“Sounds like the principles are too far up her ass to remember that I exist.”

Suguru hummed. “You know what they’re calling her? “The Strongest”.”

Satoru choked on his ice lolly because he laughed so hard. “Fuck off, seriously?”

The two of them kept talking about you. Satoru was getting loud and cocky.

“Do you really think you can put her in her place, or are you just being cocky?” Suguru genuinely asked.

“Of course I can put her in her place… I’ll squish her like an ant.” Satoru replied confidently and smugly rested his head back on his hands. His sunglasses were slipping down his nose.

I’ll win against a Kyoto princess any day.

⁕⁕⁕

“I can’t believe you actually lost to her, Satoru. I left you alone for one second.”

“Hey! I chose to lose because it was a beneficial decision.” Satoru replied.

“What the hell does that mean?” Suguru asked.

Satoru looked at Suguru and made his cheek bulge with his tongue. Suguru’s mouth fell open and his head tilted forward in disbelief at what he was insinuating.

“No fucking way. Are you serious?” he asked.

Satoru nodded smugly.

“You lucky bastard! God I’m jealous… what was it like?” Suguru asked eagerly.

“Heaven, dude, heaven. Her lips were so fucking soft… and wet… and glossy…”

“Fuck, really?” Suguru listened intently.

“Mhm… I think I came harder than I ever have in my whole life.” Satoru boasted.

A familiar voice spoke and made them jump.

“Oh yeah – it sure was a lot to swallow, Satoru.”

The boys whipped their heads around at you. They stiffened at your sudden appearance, feeling like deer caught in headlights.

“I’m so sorry.” Suguru quickly apologized, “We were just—”

“—talkin’ about how good I can suck cock?” you raised your brows and crossed your arms.

Their cheeks burned.

“Satoru, I hope you didn’t leave out any details.” You smirked. They listened to your kittenish tone and felt blood rushing down to their cocks. “Hey, Suguru, did Six Eyes leave out the fact that he bust before I could even get to the best part? I think I was on my knees for two minutes.”

Satoru’s face went completely red.

“What the hell!”

You continued, ignoring Satoru’s aggressed look, “I’m sure you could hold out for longer than him, right Suguru?”

Suguru widened his eyes, “Yo—?”

You winked. In such good timing, your friend Sam rounded the corner of the corridor and told you that Gakuganji requested your presence. He wanted to congratulate you.

“Aw, m’kay I’ve got to go, boys. But I think I’ll be seeing you two later, won’t I?” you teased.

You poked your tongue into your cheek. The two tall men felt stiff and agitated in their uniform pants.

What a sight; two of the strongest sorcerers being reduced to dumb, horny losers all because of the Kyoto student.

When you left, Suguru let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in the whole time.

“Fuck. She’s hot.” Suguru said.

“Yeah, I know.” Satoru sighed.

⁕⁕⁕

Sneaking out at night was risky.

But there you were, on your knees, reducing the two strongest sorcerers into whimpering, pathetic men.

“Sh—shit, that feels so fucking good.” Satoru gasped, feeling your lips slide up and down his cock. “Fuck!” he threw his head back and gritted his teeth.

Suguru watched intently and slowly glided his fist up and down his own cock, waiting his turn very patiently. The way you sucked his best friend’s cock had him mesmerized.

Satoru moaned and closed his eyes when he started feeling his orgasm approach. “Oh, god… just like th-that. I’m so close.”

You slid off his cock just before he came. Edging Satoru turned him into an even bigger loser than he already was.

“Wait! Fuck — please, I was so close!” he whined.

You smirked and licked your lips, “Too bad.”

Suguru’s jaw slacked as you slid your lips down on his cockhead. You hummed at how thick Suguru’s cock felt; you had to open your mouth wider to accommodate him. He groaned when you started sliding up and down while Satoru watched.

Suguru’s legs buckled when you hollowed out your cheeks and started sucking harder.

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, leaning his head back in bliss.

You suckled out his precum, gulping it down.

Suguru gasped when you took a break from suckling his tip to swirl your tongue on his tight balls.

Satoru’s cheeks burned red as he watched you suck on his best friend's balls. He had this total dumb look on his face when you started stroking his cock while sucking on Suguru.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Suguru warned, his back sliding down the wall as his knees buckled again.

You sucked his cock faster, humming naughtily and keeping eye contact that made his stomach flip. You slid your lips off his cock and started stroking both of them to their orgasms, gliding your hands up and down on two cocks looked so slutty.

Their moans sounded downright pathetic. They were so dumb for you, you were sure you could have asked them to do anything for you. Real dumb boys getting their dumb, fat cocks stroked by your skilled hands.

“Mmm, do my boys wanna cum in my mouth together?” you asked, “Come on, I’ve worked hard ‘n I’m thirsty~”

They moaned and whimpered together, slumping against each other’s shoulders. You stayed in your split-squat pose, which drove them nuts both during the tournament and now when you were sucking their souls out of their cocks.

“Yes, please! Let us cum in your mouth!” Satoru squealed, feeling his orgasm build up quickly. “I’m gonna cum s’much!”

You took turns kissing and making out with the tips of both of their worked up cocks, rubbing them together. You stuck out your tongue and Satoru swears the image of your slutty face burned into his mind immediately. Satoru came first, then Suguru followed, and they painted your tongue and lips with their milky cum.

They could barely stand upright after cumming in your mouth. Their legs gave out.

“Aw, look at that…” you talked smugly, wiping some cum off your lips and sucking it off your finger.

You raised yourself from your squatting position. Satoru and Suguru looked at you through dazed eyes, totally enamoured by you.

“… I think I sucked all your strength out of your cocks. You might have to stop calling yourselves the Strongest.” You giggled devilishly.

“You fuckin’ succubus.” Satoru seethed, annoyed at himself for being weakened by you.

Just you wait. One day I’m gonna be stronger than you and have you bent over screaming for me.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[cutielando]

dating headcannons | j.m.

synopsis: in which everybody loves your relationship

my masterlist

you were childhood best friends

ever since you could remember, you would always do everything together

you guys also lived next to each other, so you were almost always having out at each other’s house

you would get together very randomly, kissing one day and deciding to just wing it from there

he didn’t have much material wise to spoil you, but he made up for it with sweet gestures

he is such a gentle and passionate lover

has to be touching you at any time

he would either have a hand on your thigh, a hand on the small of your back or his arm wrapped around your shoulder to practically smother you into his side

occasionally, when he would get jealous, he would downright squeeze your ass or slap it in front of everyone so they could all know who you belonged to

would never let you hang out at his house while his dad was there, too afraid that his father’s temper could get you caught in the middle of a fit of rage

he would take you to the best parties on the island

would constantly be with you at the parties, not trusting the other guys not to hit on you

fights anyone that dares to look at you the wrong way, or if he hears anyone saying something inappropriate about you or your body

he’s a gentleman, always opening doors for you, treating you like the princess that you were

would take you for rides on his bike whenever you two were bored or when you couldn’t sleep at night

from the money he was getting from his job, he would prepare the cutest dates, buy you flowers that you knew were not cheap, occasionally buy you some really nice clothes you would be eyeing in the shops

you guys would have constant sleepovers at your house, JJ doing everything he could to spend as little time as possible at his house

he was very cuddly in bed, especially when he was tired

he wouldn’t say anything, he would simply enter your bedroom, disregard his clothes somewhere on your floor and then fall flatly on the bed, instantly cuddling up to your body and hiding his face away from the world in your chest

he had your parents in love with him, showing them that he intended to treat you with the utmost respect

very jealous, like he would glare at any guy that you would talk to, not bothering to ask for context

he was also a very passionate lover

before you, he would only have meaningless hook-ups, nothing ever came from any of them and he didn’t want anything serious with either of them

when you came along and had sex for the very first time, he knew he was a goner

you would never even think about being with anyone other than JJ

he knew your body like the back of his hand, all of your weak spots were stuck in his mind like a prayer

would praise the hell out of you during the act

“You’re doing so good for me”, “My baby girl, taking me so well”, “You’re the hottest woman I have ever laid my eyes on”, “Your pussy’s so good, I can’t get enough”, “You drive me crazy, baby”

he was very big on hickeys, wanting to make sure that nobody got any ideas and they knew who you belonged to

he loved you with every fiber of his being, he never thought he could ever love someone as much as he loved you

you guys would 100% end up getting married, it was just a fact

goals, no question about it

would probably end up going full Kook, buy a big mansion on Figure 8 and have 2-3 kids

you kept each other grounded, you helped each other find happiness again and loved each other like there was no tomorrow

match made in heaven

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[mozzaremi]

finally working on the ghost hunter au that i started a few months ago (?), but i did a complete rehaul on the concept

INFODUMP:

(okok, english isn't my first language and i'll probably edit out grammar mistakes when i'll find them, so please bare with me lol)

Initially, Aubrey and Kel meet as internet pen-pals, both share an interest in horror and all things creepy (tho aubrey prefers the creepy but cute stuff). While Aubrey is more of a casual fan, Kel is a full on enjoyer of anything and everything that's spooky: horror movies, creepy stories, and especially the ghost stuff.

Kel would always share to Aubrey about his fantasies of being a professional ghost hunter and maybe having a tv show all about his and Aubrey's adventures in the paranormal world.

Aubrey and Kel both live in the big city, tho Aubrey often visits Faraway as that's where her mother resides. She would often meet up a friend of her's named Basil: a shy guy who's really interested photography and everything related to plants. While hanging out with the flower boy, Aubrey would frequently do Basil's hair and makeup, later on he picks up some neat beauty tips from her that allowed him to explore his style. The visits to Faraway wouldn't last long, only being there for the weekends and holidays before she'd have to go back to her dad in the city.

Eventually Kel and Aubrey make a blog for Ghost hunting. Their content on there is amateur at best, but they gain a loyal following of other ghost enthusiasts, and non enthusiast, mostly just people who really enjoy kel and aubrey's friendship dynamic and their banter.

In their endevours, they would earn a loyal hater, who goes by "The Maverick" who would nickpick any and all instances of paranormal activity. Although sounding pompous and theatrical, he always finds reasonable proof to debunk all their findings.

Skip a few years, Back in faraway basil has to deal with the grief of his grandmother's passing, he would often stay at the graveyard just to mourn. The graveyard in faraway was infamous for having an unknown being living there, no one knowing if it's human and harmless or something paranormal and dangerous. No one has ever been able to get photo evidence of the entity, so they are more often percieved as an urban legend.

One foggy evening, Basil was back at the graveyard, doing his usual mourning session, when something sat besides him on a bench. Eyes full of tears, he didn't dare to face the person, so he continued with what he was doing. Eventually the person(?) starts asking questions to get Basil to vent to him and maybe calm him down and it works. Felling a little bit better Basil faces the person to see a guy his age in a very strange outfit. Once he got a better look at him, he jumped off the bench realising it's the fabled ghost boy of the graveyard. He runs away, but notes the fact that guy he talked to was very nice...

After that, he starts believing in a life after death, and his grief lessens knowing that possibly his grandmother is in a better place

Basil finds out about Aubrey and Kel making a ghost blog, there the two would film themselves searching through abandoned areas to find ghosts... or something, anything really. While they never found anything scary, they had a very good duo dynamic and Basil became somewhat of a fan of theirs. Basil noticed the poor video quality due to it being recorded on a crappy phone (android lol) and it inspired him to purchase a video camera.

When Aubrey visits Faraway again, he offers his cameraman services to her and she agrees. She introduces Basil to Kel and they all hit it off.

One day, when Aubrey and Kel are feeling hopeless of their Ghost Hunting adventure, Basil tells them the time he met a ghost in the graveyard back in faraway. They both take his word for it.

They get Hero to drive them to faraway, Hero who is a Uni dropout, he really doesn't have anything better to do besides taking up odd jobs to pay rent. He has saved a lot of money throughout the years of being uni-free and working at basically every retail job in the city, so the though of having a road-trip didn't bother him.

Once they are at the town of faraway, Hero hands them a packed lunch, and the gang is off to find a ghost! Being in the graveyard, things felt fruitless, not a lot of things were happening besides the fog that started to form. Kel got tired and started reaching for his bag to get the sandwich that Hero packed him. But there was a problem... there were no sandwiches to be found in his bag... Suddently his eyes meet the figure of the faraway ghost boy who was snacking on a BLT...

Kel alerts his friends to come grab some footage of the ghoul right in front of him, but an issue arose... the video camera wasn't working and couldn't get Sunny in the shot without the device glitching out.

The ghoulish boy named Sunny sees how restless, but persistent the ghost hunter crew was, he found their antics humorous at best, but once the big brother Hero comes to check up on them is when Sunny is on full guard

He summons chains from under the ground, binding the 4 visitors in place. Aproching them again he threatens to suck all the life out of them. They start pleading for their life and a idea accured...

Sunny gave them an offer to help him find his long lost sister...He is unsure if she's still alive or not, but he still feels the presence on her in the living world through the Something chained to his foot. In return he would spare their life and let them film him for their ghost blog. The gang agrees to his offer and just so they don't double cross sunny, he lays a curse on them that if they leave him behind on purpose, they would have their souls taken away from their bodies, turning them into lifeless husks.

AND SO THAT'S HOW THEIR ADVENTURE STARTS! they have this sorta mystery gang adventure going on, traveling across the US to find Mari while also having wacky high-jinxs and sunny allerting the others of ghostly presences in the area for Aubrey, Kel and Basil's ghost hunting blog content, just so they would get enough blog donations to keep traveling!

[forgeofthenine]

Is it the holiday season, or are you just a genius cause my yearning heart is being well fed by your tiefling headcanons. I hope this ask inspires :)

I’d go feral for some good pining headcanons; what are they like in the gray space between flirting and relationship? Especially if there’s mutual understanding that this might not be the best time (i.e. there may or may not be a mindflayer invasion in progress) and so they hold off on initiating anything, but have to watch as their crush dives headlong into danger? I love imagining ill-timed interruptions punctuated by longing looks.

Alternatively, how good are our darling tiefling bachelors at dancing? Would they learn a jig or two if their SO loved dancing?

Here's a lil' something something for you about pining, Anon. I didn't decide to write a full set of dance headcanons (despite it being on my to do list right from when I started the blog) but I am going to post something similar 👀

What the bachelors are like while pining for you

Dammon

This man pines so hard

He's touch starved to hell, quite literally, but has no clue about it

Dammon was sure he was fine right up until he met you and was hit with the realisation that he wanted more

The way he shows his affection is also anything but subtle, expect to know right away

It's never the type of affection that makes you feel guilty if you don't return it or makes you feel like you feel pressured

He's very easy going and good at reading people, he slowly increases how much affection he gives you until you both find a comfortable balance

Soon you'll find all your weapons and armour is repaired or replaced to the highest quality

Dammon is overjoyed if you return the same affection, even if you both know dating is off the cards for now

Bring this man some home cooking and he'll want to marry you right then and there

It's a grey area you both find yourself in for quite some time, to the point you both often get asked if you're together

The way he blushes when people ask is absolutely adorable, even more so when he hesitates to correct them

Towards the end you both basically already live together, both slowly easing into a romantic relationship without realising it

Dammon is more than happy once the ilithids are dealt with to make things official, finally not needing to correct people anymore

Zevlor

This man is the king of pining, absolute reigning champion

He knew he was in deep right from the moment he first saw you

It's something he keeps under wraps very well, to the point that you probably won't realise for a while

He tends to sneak peaks at you when you aren't looking, or he comes up with mostly reasonable excuses to come and speak with you

If you call him out on either thing then he'll heavily deny doing any of it, despite the blush on his face giving him away

Even if there wasn't an ilithid invasion happening Zevlor would still be cautiously optimistic about ever having a relationship with you

He's wary of a potential age gap or coming across too strong and scaring you away

A part of him also reminds him that you'd likely want a suitor your own age

The best way to quell those worries is to simply return his advances with some of your own

It could be anything, so long as he thinks you're interested he'll keep up his very subtle flirting

Soon, the two of you are already regularly having meals with each other and finding ways to spend hours together

Zevlor is absolutely already thinking of the life he'll have with you after this

Rolan

Rolan is a dick at first, he honestly is so out of touch with his own feelings that he doesn't realise he's into you

He's completely oblivious to anything that isn't directly spelled out for him, including how much he actually enjoys your company

It takes Cal and Lia teasing him relentlessly before he finally comes to terms with it

Once he does it hits him like a brick to the face

And after that, it's like a switch flips

He can barely speak to you now without second-guessing himself or tripping over words

It's enough to make you wonder what's going on until the siblings start teasing you both, much to Rolans embarrassment

He's always quick to shoo them away and apologise but his feelings are already clear

You're both smart people, it's easy to know now isn't the time to start a romantic relationship, but it's harder to listen to reason when your feelings get involved

After weeks of you both tiptoeing around each other, feelings clearly returned, he finally has enough

Rolans the fastest to take action on his pining, impatient and hating the uncertainty

You'll find yourself in Ramaziths Tower and kissing the tiefling that runs it in no time

Rolan is quick to pull you into him, kissing you passionately before making you promise you'll stay safe

[blueberrypancakesworld]

A slave through power and coins

Marcus Acacius, Geta, Caracalla x slave!reader

warning : slavery, hurt/comfort, collar/chain, cage, implied torture, smutish (nothing too explicit), kissing, behavioral disorder (dysfunctional family), written before the movie came out charaters may be different at the end when the movie is out

Summary : In a time when the world was still full of brutality that was considered entertainment, the emperor brothers Geta and Caracalla rose up and Rome was brought to new greatness by Marcus Acacius. But at the end they were all men with power and money…two things that gave you a choice over slaves so what is hidden behind curtains when you turn to your property…a property that you care about a little more than you should.

info : i know i normally try to write everything as accurately as possible and wanted to wait but now i just have to write for it and get some variety back on my blog. I wish everyone a lot of fun reading and until the next work :)

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

Marcus Acacius

He was the Roman general of all troops, a war hero for the people who would go down in history, and a confidant of the emperors, the two brothers who ruled the empire together. It was a story, a legend, he would probably receive statues of gold and other riches...but he did not use his coins and influence for such things.

After his victorious return home, greeted by the people and the brothers as much as he enjoyed the prestige, everything was different behind the heavy curtains and doors of his home, the great estate.

There, where his guards and servants bowed, was his dove, his 'Columba', his jewel, the reason why he vowed to return victorious from every battle, the woman who belonged to his heart...a woman he had met in chains at an auction many moons ago. A woman who had no hope of her own after being robbed of her family, she was alone without a home, but a home that Marcus had given her.

A home where she would run into his army every time the curtains and doors closed behind him, ,,By the gods you're back" she would murmur into his embrace, feeling the smell of war clinging to him, fire, ash, blood and death surrounding him every time he came back.

But he was back to that was what mattered, his rough hands held her tightly he hugged his dove, his beloved, his heart to himself, ,,I will not break my promise never my heart" he reminded her he placed his hand on her cheek a tired but relieved face looked into the pure happiness of his wife she nuzzled his cheek and left a kiss on it.

She noticed his pull back he didn't want her to ever remember the horrors of war but as always she took his hand again, ,,It doesn't bother me anymore knowing you made it Marcus" she said quietly seeing the uncertainty disappear in his dark eyes and his hand move back to hers before he finally gave her a long awaited kiss.

They had each other again and that was the main thing, it was an open secret at least on his green that they shared a heart so they knew as soon as they received a visit or went out into the city he was the general and she was just a slave a nothing someone who had to live under his mercy.

But in the evenings they spent together in the little bathhouse in the hot water she washed him and listened to his stories and was reminded again and again by the countless scars that at the end of the day he was a human being just like her.

He always touched her in the water his fingers always found a way to her as if he was always more afraid of losing her though he beat the battles, ,,Like birds fly you freed me from the cage" she reminded him like every time he wiped the little scar on her neck and wrist, leaving kisses on it and apologies showing in his eyes. Where the chains had been on her body, where he should have saved her earlier, where he had left her alone in a battle.

His doubts that he could have done more were interrupted with kisses and touches, his hands joined with hers, he saw his dove before him, his symbol of a possible peace, and was reminded that he had everything he needed. ,,We'll stay here for now, I promise I won't have to go on another crusade" was the message he broke over dinner, a message that meant they could have months of togetherness and peace.

Months of loving each other, of finally being able to feel him again, his lips on hers, on her fingers, hands, arms on her thighs as he pleasured her and her fingers tangled in his dark curls streaked with gray as the sounds of lust and love echoed in her ears.

She leaned against his chest as she rode him, feeling safe being held by him, his lips blessing and kissing her body. He told her stories and myths he had heard while he listened to her and looked at the works she had made, the plants and other beauties she had created in his absence.

The garden full of plants from the different areas of his successes full of color and beauty in which she listened to his voice when he held her in his arms and read poems from thinkers and poets to her, he enjoyed her when she tried to learn to speak and they both tried out new kinds of devotion. There were days, weeks and months full of devotion and dreams and finally they could be a couple at least until the letters from the emperors were brought.

Letters that told them that although Rome was the only empire on infinity, it had to spread, ,,I'll come back to you my columba, I'll take you back into my heart and make my peace when I see the wings of your beauty," he promised her with the helmet in his hand and a sword at his belt as he pulled her close for perhaps the last time their eyes met.

His fingers trembled with excitement and fear her kisses soothed him before he gave her one last kiss and stepped out into a world behind the curtain where they were nothing more than the general and his slave.

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

Emperor Geta

He was the younger of the two and yet far more interested and functional for the role of a lone warrior but who would he be to break their father's will and put on the golden wreath alone.

For although he was the emperor of Rome, the emperor of the world, and as much as he sometimes more than hated his brother and wanted to strangle this amusement-seeking good-for-nothing, there was something in this world in which there could not be enough war and suffering that truly touched the emperor.

Behind the golden pillars and doors and curtains of the palace, there was something going on from which gods and laws removed and lowered their heads because the word of a human ruler now carried more weight when it came to the worthless life of a slave, a nobody...his 'Dollulus' his pretty doll that belonged to him.

A woman of his age, a woman who had been given a completely different life at birth to him, so they were both stained with blood and yet he had a golden laurel wreath on his head and she had a golden necklace with a chain leading to his hand. For what else had he spent coins on her?

She was worth a price and the Emperor of Rome was willing to pay that price, even if he normally received things as gifts, he had bought her knowing that she would turn out to be more than just a pretty object. ,,A doll on golden strings, you do as I command" was the first thing he had said to her after showing her his gift, a gift he had given her in "her" room.

He had seen the hint of suspicion in her pretty eyes, the hope of betterment that perhaps he, the emperor, a kind-hearted leader of an empire, would treat her well after all...but the realization brought him joy as his fingers wrapped around the end of the golden chain and he pulled. It moved.

Moved as he commanded, ,,Isn't it lovely like this?" he had asked, gripping her chin tightly with his fingers, the golden rings on his finger already leaving marks on her skin but what did he care what he did with his doll, she would last and if she broke he would get a new one....but this time he quickly realized that inside himself he saw more amusement and perhaps attraction for his new toy than he wanted to admit.

She was one of many, but she was not his brother's. He could do what he wanted with her, but she would not break. She seemed to surrender to him completely, her eyes like a doll, the longer the chain wrapped around her body, the clothes on her body always white and gold his colors, the white make-up that adorned his face always visible on her body, the scratches and bites sometimes hidden by clothes and sometimes not.

But no matter how much he used her, in her eyes he found amusement deep inside her, ,,The heart of the human god belongs to a slave in chains" was the only thing she had once said to him when he had pulled her to him by the chain, his grip tight on her body as he had directed her to his bed as so often.

It was a phrase that first made his body tremble with rage, he struck her before he watched in fascination as she also had a hint of a smile on her lips, ,,It's true" was the one thing he had said before he greedily pressed his lips to hers and had a greater control and lust for her than ever before.

His body left marks on her as her sounds of pain and lust echoed in the wide open space. She was his and she knew he could have anyone but he had lost his heart to a slave, she slave princess would be a better title, an object always on a leash beside him, who had no rights but whose heart belonged to the most powerful man in the world.

This satisfaction took away every blow, every bite, every thrust of his actions that he called love and lust she had a chain in her hand, she also had his chain to his heart in her hand, ,,No matter what love torments you cause me...my emperor your inner being, your spirit will not be able to kill me" she brought to him, feeling the break in the chain, the familiar tinkling in the room as angry eyes looked at her.

The makeup in his face smudged slightly as they had been sleeping only minutes before, until he found himself laughing again in amusement, pleased at her understanding, her intelligence and her boldness as Rome grew ever larger, ,,Behind curtains no no but outside everyone reminds you of what you are" he said back simply and coldly before pulling on the collar to force her body to move before leaving her with a final glare in her room, a room he had access to at all times but was never hers but the thought was what mattered.

Because it was true that she would suffer in public, she would feel people's looks and words because they were not allowed to talk about emperors but they were allowed to talk about a slave...in the end she was a puppet and a puppeteer at the same time in a palace with curtains and doors behind which everyone saw her as something else but not as a lover.

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

Emperor Caracalla

He was the elder of them, the first-born son of the emperor, his father, the real golden child of the empire, but his brother, even if only a year younger, seemed to be the spirit for the cause of ruling an empire that would soon take over the whole world.

An empire that lay on the brothers' shared shoulders, but the older one was more bored and interested in battles and amusements than political speeches. His whole life would have been incredibly boring if they hadn't had the colloseum in which galdiators fought and battled beasts and ships...if he hadn't set his eyes on something completely new. His pretty, fragile butterfly, his 'Papilio', a pretty woman who, like her nickname, could break at any moment, an amusement, a game he enjoyed watching.

A simple ise to buy, her wrists adorned with golden rings hanging from ornate chains, her clothes bloody red like his, though less adorned with gold and more billowing, ,,Amuse me my Papilio, show me your pretty wings," he chuckled as he watched her, as he often did, in the large golden cage he had made.

A cage big enough to be a room of its own, he knew his brother would never touch her Geta had other ways of dealing with his property but he himself wanted to see everything. But just as a butterfly underwent changes, so did she, fragile at first, turning away from his touch, the blood of the arena, his kisses on her body, the touch and care he gave her as a reward for his devotion.

When he opened her cage and freed her palms, delighting in her dance before his made-up face settled on her, yet the blood from her body stained them both, ,,New sides encourage the breaking up of old boredom," he phylosophized in his mind as he adorned her with new clothes, new palms, new accoutrements for her cage.

Until he was no longer entertained, the act of love was so devoted and amusing that for him it was a series of books that gave inspiration, so it was no different behind the curtain. Unlike his brother who recognized his slave as such in public, Caracalla was different, ,,The role of Psyche is my choice" was her response to his command to entertain him and his brother in a retelling of the story The Golden Ass.

A role of a human becoming goddess with butterfly wings another construct which he looked at her naked body with amusement and touch was fascinated as his beautiful butterfly goddess broke around his bloody embrace when he took her.

The play ended in an amusing catastrophe for him because who would dare touch his beautiful butterfly but him, ,,Your god of love, Cupid, is right here!" his loud voice echoed through the room as Geta enjoyed the blood bath his brother was making of the other actor. His butterfly once again reminded her of what her lover, her own god from whom she could not escape, was capable of if he was not entertained well enough.

However, in this bloodbath she saw him for the first time truly laughing amused that blood red made sense for his favorite color her own worth was practically presented to her on the gallows as his eyes settled on her when the knife he still held in his hand lay against her body and Geta was long gone.

,,That's it...that's your amusement...my own amusement" she told him feeling the coldness as he cut away her clothes and she knew that with this god in front of her this amusement was what he was capable of to keep her with him he was her own spectator her own butterfly that would break if he didn't get his cage back.

He was the older brother, the god who was apparently much more of a defiant emotional child than a god with a power that could kill her...yet the thought that she was the only thing that amused him, that he desired, was something that flattered her.

From there it was completely different unsettled for every murder he committed for her, for every play she performed and every appearance in the arean she had was watched by him with amusement while both tunics of the fragile lovers filled with more and more blood.

While they spent most of their time together in the cage, sometimes it was her, sometimes it was him, the white make-up staining them both, their heated bodies pressed against the cold golden steel bars, the blood still staining their bodies on his hand.

In the end, no matter what they did, whether she had the handcuffs on, the gold adorning her body, or whether it was he who killed for her in public, they were one another's amusement in a world that could no longer give them anything because he had everything and she had lost everything.

Behind the curtains of the palace in the cage in the beds it was different they had endless possibilities this wlet more amusing together while two caged butterflies had found each other.

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

@sweetpascal here is the first work of my words ;)

[didyoulookforme]

pov: matty taking care of you after a night of too much drinking

mostly fluffy thoughts but with some slight smutty mentions.

this was something i tried to write months before i started this blog just to see if i could do it. that's when i quickly found out writing full fics is not my thing, lol. nothing special, just a stream of consciousness ramble really.

warning: smutty thoughts if you squint, alcohol. grammatical errors, typos.

masterlist here

“c'mon, it's time to go home, love.” there’s this ungodly pounding inside your head, a confirmation that, yes, one too many pints were consumed this… evening? night? hard to tell, really. you have no idea what time it is or where you’re right now—all that registers is the warm feeling of his arm on your waist, leading you toward the exit of whatever this place might be.

the cold air bites your skin as soon as the door opens. wearing a short dress feels like a silly choice now, but he said you looked beautiful so that makes it all right of course. you lean into him as he drapes his coat around your shoulders, the same leather garment he's let you wear countless times before because he knows you love it so.

“okay, your flat's just a few blocks away. let's walk, get some fresh air. it will do you good.” his lips brush the top of your head before you both start to slowly stumble alongside the dimly lit streets of london. “i like it when you kiss me, matty.” he leans down to plant a soft peck on your cheek and for a fleeting moment it makes you wonder if maybe he feels the same way. just maybe.

walking never felt so difficult. perhaps it was when you were a child, but obviously you have no recollection. his arm around your shoulders continues to guide you as you just focus on placing one foot in front of the other until you reach your destination. it was a fast trek but you don't mind. in fact, you are thankful for it.

“don't think i’ve ever had this much trouble openin’ a fuckin’ door.” none of the keys seem to work, ugh. he chuckles behind you (rude) and grabs them from your shaky hands, unlocking and swinging the door open with ease (show off). you try to walk on your own, but it doesn't quite go as planned as you stumble on the mat right behind the entrance.

"shit, are you alri—“ you cannot help but quietly laugh at yourself and the embarrassing situation you're in, and it catches you by surprise when he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other one around your waist. he gently places you on the green couch so you're finally sitting down, your drunk mind spinning as you gaze at the boy kneeled down in front of you, working on getting the patent heels off your feet.

“m’sorry you have to see me like this.” for a split second you wonder how it happened, how did you get to this state, but quickly realize that’s too much thinking for your clouded mind to process. you’ll figure it out later. it’s not often you get flat out drunk, especially outside the confine of the four off-white walls you call home. you prefer to drink in your flat as you don't like the thought of making a fool out of yourself in front of others. much like right now. oh well. it probably won't be the last time.

with your shoes off now (thank you, matthew), you slowly stand up and somehow manage walk over to your bedroom successfully without tripping over your feet. you sit down on the floor, facing your full length mirror as you take your earrings off and try to undress. “matty?” you attempt to reach the zipper on the back of your black dress, but your limbs just can't seem to bend far enough “please help me take this bloody thing off!” you give up after a few seconds and get distracted by the red marks on your knees from where you fell just a few minutes ago.

“hold on, darling."

you lazily stare back at yourself in the mirror as matty walks through the room to set a glass of water on the bedside table. he takes a few steps and kneels behind you, fumbling his fingers to undo the pesky zipper. it's maybe the alcohol in your system or some wishful thinking, but you seem to notice a blush on his cheeks when he realizes you aren't wearing a bra as the straps of your dress fall to the sides. for a moment you catch his eyes gazing at your reflection, making you smile as a warmth, familiar sensation in your navel continues to grow.

a smile of his own tugs at the corner of his lips when he holds your elbows to raise you up on your feet, your silk dress sliding and pooling at your ankles in the process. he turns you around so your eyes finally meet, big brown loving eyes looking straight at you.

your head finds his chest, you can hear his gentle heartbeat, a soft repeating thud that you never grow tired of. "i think i could jus' fall 'sleep right here..."

“unfortunately, i don’t think that’s really going to work here, love. c'mon, get your arms up so i can put this shirt on.” you obey by raising your flimsy limbs up to the best of your ability while matty attempts to get the fabric on you. it takes a few tries, but he manages.

you now find yourself dressed in nothing but your shirt and underwear. you watch as he pulls the covers off the bed, getting your spot ready. once it’s set, he grabs your hand and slowly brings you over.

“please stay.” it wasn’t much of a question as much as it was a plea for him to keep you company.

he doesn’t argue with you, he knows better than that. he nods. “i'll just be on the sofa in the other room but let me know if you need anythi—" you shake your head. "this bed is big enough for you, too." you lazily pat the extra pillow besides your head. you get scared as he doesn't say much, but you breathe again once he starts to walk over in your direction, lifting the covers and making himself at home next to you. he doesn't bother getting undressed, but maybe that's best for your (and his own) sake.

you rest your head on his chest, letting your body melt into his as your lids grow heavy from the mix of alcohol and exhaustion. “thank you for keeping me safe, matty.” you feel as he brings you slightly closer, one hand running through your hair while the other grabs on to your shoulder, his lips softly planting a kiss on your forehead. “always, darling.”

[yokohamapound]

HEYYYY! When I tell you I pounce at every update. You’re legitimately my favorite Bungou stray dogs blog. Can I request Dazai and Fyodor with a famous s/o? I think it’s be interesting to see how they’d interact with it all 🫶🏾💕🦋✨

Thank you so much, lovely! I had so much fun writing these. I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Contents: gn! reader, possessive behaviour, Fyodor being a little shit

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This would be…interesting. I’m usually of the opinion that Fyodor would want to squirrel his s/o away and have them all to himself, away from all the corrupting influences of the world, but this is not necessarily a given. He’s more than capable of dating whomever he pleases, as long as he is in control of almost everything. 

It’s possible that he may have targeted you deliberately for a relationship, using you and your fame as a stepping stone in some scheme of his. While he certainly didn’t expect to catch feelings, he’s not going to admit failure on his part or deny himself something that he wants.

He’s extremely camera shy. Fyodor’s been involved with (and betrayed) most of the Gifted organisations and governments in the world, and he’s, y’know, a terrorist, so he can’t exactly show up on the red carpet on your arm. 

This doesn’t necessarily set off alarm bells in your mind. As far as you know, he’s some Russian tech genius who just doesn’t want his identity made public. He’s not the celebrity couple type. You’re more than willing to put up with this if it means you get to spend time with those violet eyes and cunning hands. 

Your fans are a little obsessed with finding out who your lover is, and there’s a paparazzi who are on the hunt to get a photo of him and flog the picture for big bucks. But there’s only been a few sightings of him, and never anything concrete:

A pale hand reaching out of the limousine to take your hand after you’re leaving an event. 

Someone in a dark coat standing next to you, though you can’t see their face. 

A photo of you having dinner with a dark-haired man, shot from behind so no one can see the man’s face. 

Fyodor’s a master at covering his tracks, whether in real life or digitally, so he’ll remain your phantom boyfriend. I think he leaves these little breadcrumbs out in the world, when he could easily erase them, because he likes your fans knowing that you’re not theirs, you’re his.

The online trolls that will be present on any famous person’s social media should beware Fyodor’s wrath. He’s cold, calculated, and amoral, and he won’t hesitate to retaliate in petty, yet devastating ways, like ruining their credit, framing them for a crime, or even just airing their dirty laundry to all their friends and family. The best part? They won’t even know who or why it happened. But it happens enough that you get a reputation for having a scary fanbase. 

In reality, it’s all just one man who dabbles in cyber-crime as a hobby. Heh.

If you’re in movies, TV, or singing duets where you have to pretend to be with someone else, he won’t act crazy jealous. That’s far too brutish. But you will notice an uptick in his possessive behaviour. He always has a hand on you in one way or another, paying more attention to you, etc. Anything to bring your attention back to where it belongs: on him. 

If you ever ask him outright if he’s bothered by you being famous, he retorts:

“No, my dear. It amuses me, to think of all those people looking at you, crying out for your love and attention, wanting to be you. And at the end of the day, you come home to me. I have something that none of them ever will~”

Dazai Osamu 

At first, Dazai would probably have significant reservations about dating someone famous. A brief fling, sure, but a full relationship is something that’s gonna give him pause. He’d be that way with anyone, but even more so when you spend so much time in the limelight. 

He’s not worried about your rabid fans digging into his past and finding out about him being a Port Mafia executive. That shit is too well hidden for even the most determined netizen to find, thanks to Mushitaro’s Special Ability and Ango’s cover-up work. 

The simple fact is, Dazai’s a loner. 

You’ll see him interacting with the members of the Armed Detective Agency and seeming to be the life of the party at rare points, but if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice he slips away a lot. Sometimes he’s gone from the office for a day or two. Once all the action is said and done, he’s vanished like a ghost when everyone is too busy celebrating. Being around other people is exhausting for him. If his character is anything like the main protagonist of No Longer Human, it’s because he spends so much time playing the clown and wearing a mask. Other people are difficult for him to interact with.

Being on the arm of someone famous brings a lot of attention his way. Sure, he smiles and laughs about all the guys and girls suddenly swarming into his DMs, trying to get his attention. (More than usual, that is.) But he won’t enjoy it if he can’t go anywhere without being mobbed, or if people expect him to be on TV with you. 

His good looks will get him a lot of modelling and movie role offers, most of which he’ll turn down. The only ones he accepts are for…malicious reasons. 

“Dazai, you’ve turned down every single offer that comes your way. Why’d you take that hair care one?”

“Oh, that’s very simple, bella. It’s because I knew they’d paste it all over that billboard that faces Chuuya’s penthouse windows. Now he has to look at my face every single day.”

“You’re evil.”

Dazai’s not the jealous type, really, so it won’t bother him in the slightest when the gossip rags publish lies about you flirting with this or that J-Pop star, or when your fans profess their love to you. He’ll pretend to be jealous sometimes, but that’s only because he wants to be dramatic and have you baby him.

He gets a lot of his own fans, even though he doesn’t really want them. It doesn’t stop him from dialling up the charm and sending them swooning, just for shits and giggles. Mostly, he’s sly enough to avoid them. 

They figure out where he works and turn up to the office, much to Kunikida’s chagrin. 

[babiebom]

When You Fall (i)

A/N: My first full fic on this blog! Thank you to everyone who voted! I will try my hardest to write and upload quickly, though I am not going to promise anything seeing as I have a job interview this Friday that I'm writing this(already passed by the time this is uploaded) and if I get it I'll be working more often. Though again thank you for voting and I hope you enjoy! Also a bit of a warning, some things from the game are obviously changed to make sense irl, like instead of there just being seasons there are actual months!(pictures not mine.)

Next Masterlist

TW: death, self harm in the form of overworking, cursing, depression, negative thoughts, funerals. Etc just sad

Genres: angst, potential happy ending, romance, some fluff. Multichapter Fic

WC: 4k

You hear your name being called, the voice is quiet under the ringing of your ears.

"Y/N!"

You attempt to force your eyes to adjust on the person, head and neck snapping quickly to face towards them. "Huh"?

"I asked if you were going to be alright getting to the graveyard alone…?"

You nod, swallowing even though your mouth and throat were dry. The funeral home was almost empty now; only you, your aunt and uncle, and a few friends that knew both of your parents and/or grandfather. Standing up straighter, you try to fix your face subtly, trying to act as if you weren't out of it for the entire funeral. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. I promise." You clear your throat and offer her a smile.

She hesitates, lips trembling before she slowly gives you a hug. "Your uncle and I are here for you".

"I know".

As the two leave, as well as the rest of the stragglers, it's only you left with the bodies of your parents and grandfather. A sour laugh leaves your lips, tears kissing the corners of your eyes as you drag your feet closer to their caskets. To keep from crying you clench your jaw and curl your lips inward, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the idea of never seeing any of these three people again. If you would've known this was going to happen, you would've visited more, called more. If you would've known…well it doesn't matter anymore because you didn't know, and now you can't do any of those things. 

Slowly and one by one you press a kiss to each of their foreheads, letting your own head rest on top of theirs for just a moment before moving on, hoping the warmth from you would cure the cold coming from them. You stayed there for so long the funeral director had to escort you out, reminding you that they needed to be buried. 

Slowly you got into your car, remembering that everyone was probably on their way or already waiting for you and the bodies to show up. They were all going to be buried in Pelican Town, the same place your father had grown up, the same place you spent your summers during your childhood. 

Entering Pelican Town, nothing had changed since your childhood, and that made everything worse. Things hadn't changed for the town, and yet it wasn't the same for you. Everything has changed for you. The only difference was a couple new headstones, the graveyard now housing your mother, father, and grandfather; though you had noticed the additions of some that weren't there when you had last been here. The mayor was standing next to the open graves, making your heart clench at the finality of it all; the second they were filled with dirt would mark the last time you ever got to see their faces. 

Instead of standing with the rest of the crowd, you stand off to the side, crying silently as you watch the mayor pray over their bodies before they get lowered into the ground. You have to fight yourself to keep from yelling out, knowing that making a scene, making this whole process longer would affect everyone around you. It’s the middle of winter after all, everyone probably wanted to hurry and get back to their regular lives. Swallowing harshley, you only step forward when it's time for all of the guests to throw some dirt on top of the caskets. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the air, clenching your eyes closed and tossing the dirt in. A soft thump is all you get in response, the dirt scattering over the caskets. Your mother and father are sharing a grave, and your grandfather was being buried with your grandmother, the two finally being reunited after a decade and some change of being apart. 

You move backwards again, allowing the others who had arrived to say their final goodbyes. Avoiding looking at what was happening, you focused on the scenery instead. Pelican Town had always been nice, and being covered by snow it was no different. Everything had sort of a Christmas-y vibe to it, but that only made you feel worse. Letting your eyes continue to roam, you spot some of the towns-people walking around, obviously trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. They were walking far too slow to actually be trying to get somewhere, or maybe the calmness of a small town allowed them to take it easy even when they had errands to run. Your eyes connect with a woman with orange hair, her eyes growing wide the second yours stopped on her. She hurried away as soon as she realized she had been caught watching, moving from the large tree that she was under to presumably hide somewhere else. You scoff and turn your head to watch someone else, not really offended but somewhat annoyed that the public can watch as your normal life is ripped away from you. Bitterly, you wondered when the last time this town had held a funeral, or had even had someone die. 

Everything looked peaceful, your presence disrupting the environment and if that woman with the orange hair was anything to go by, this funeral was something that shook the small town that probably knew your grandfather better than you did. You wonder why none of them showed up to the funeral or to this burial. Your thoughts are disrupted by everyone bustling around you, hands on your shoulders words spoken to you, you figure out that the burial is finished by the people moving around you back towards the way you came.

The second you fully realize that the burial had ended, you race out towards your car, not wanting to stop and talk to anyone, not wanting to cry on someone’s shoulders. You decide then that the best course of action would be to throw yourself into your work. So, without another glance back, you drive away from Pelican Town, hoping you would never have to return to the place again.

Scrunching up your nose and frowning, you slam the drawer to your desk harder than you need to, ignoring the sound of the contents inside spilling and moving around. The sound of typing overwhelms your senses, and unlike the persona you’ve put on for the past couple of months, you get up and stalk towards the bathrooms. As you pass the other cubicles, the oncoming anxiety attack immediately takes over your being. 

You push open the bathroom door, wheezing and trying to suck in as much breath as you can. Yet it still feels like you’re drowning, as if every breath you suck in is instead water, and it’s impossible for you to come up to the surface. You fall onto the sink, leaning over it and heaving. Your legs threatened to give out, not wanting to hold you up any longer. Giving in, you allow yourself to sink to the dirty bathroom floor, dragging yourself in between the sinks and the wall, the gross overhead light giving you a headache. 

Your body shakes, still struggling to breathe. As you close your eyes, flashes of the funeral and the last time you saw each of them alive consume you. The second your ears start to ring, you realize that you’re already too far gone, and any of your attempts to self soothe were now made in vain because you couldn’t calm down. You needed help, but at the same time that was the last thing that you wanted. You can feel yourself shake, violently, and your head falls back and forth as you shake, and in the madness you realize that someone was shaking you, it wasn’t you yourself. “Please!” you heard someone plead, yet they sounded too far away from you. 

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out of it, you want them to go away, and to leave you spiraling here on the ground, and in the back of your cloudy mind you hope that you still get paid for having this breakdown during work hours. Joja Co. wouldn’t take away your wages for this, right? You’re shaken again, this time rougher and your eyes begin to focus on someone kneeling in front of you. The ugliness that was Joja blue assaulting your eyes. You groan, and as you feel yourself begin to surface, realize that you had been screaming. Your throat now raw and hoarse as you begin to calm. 

The woman in front of you is someone you recognize, though you couldn’t recall her name. You only knew her as your supervisor that you rarely actually saw in the office, and behind her were two coworkers looking absolutely frightened and worried for you. Swallowing, you shake your head and haul yourself off of the ground, muttering a ‘sorry’ and pushing your way out of the bathroom. It was painful, the walk back to your cubicle, everyone was simultaneously watching you, but still not really looking at you. As if they wanted to pretend that your breakdown didn’t happen, and you are all too aware of how insane you probably looked, coming out of the bathroom with puffy red eyes, and messed up hair. 

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to have a breakdown at work, the expectations of your superiors and the company itself were always too much for some people to handle, yet you realized that you probably looked different than them, having run all the way to the bathroom, and not out the doors to the elevators. After a breakdown, the person always quits, yet here you are, sitting silently in your cubicle, brushing your hair out of your face as if everything was normal. 

Again you open the drawer and look at the letter that had arrived on your desk weeks ago.

Dear, Y/N

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago.

I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life…real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place…my pride and joy: New Hope Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my grandchild.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?

Taking in a breath, you laugh quietly to yourself. Your face still wet from your tears. It was ridiculous, hilarious even, that the very place you wanted to return to ends up the very place you flee in order to get back to yourself. 

You can hear clacks of shoes nearing you, coming from the direction of the same bathroom you just fled from. The woman stops in front of the opening to your cubicle. Staring down at you in your seat with aggravated eyes. The lack of concern annoys you to your very core, and with the least amount of emotion you can muster, you stare back up at her, the letter wrinkled in your hand.

"Yes?"

"That little breakdown you had there was very disruptive," she shifts her weight, "now you're one of your best workers, so we'll give you another chance, but next time something this unprofessional happens we'll have to let you go."

"Right," you swallow harshly, "about that, I need to take time off."

"Time off? Why do you need to take time off?" She asks loudly. You can see the people across from you look over with wide eyes. Vacations were never accepted, and were more likely to be taken as an insult. 

"Well, half of my family has just died...and I don't think I have a good enough mental state to-"

"We gave you time off already, we let you go to the funeral and have an extended weekend. How much more time do you need?" 

You scoff in disbelief, the woman staring at you with all seriousness of a person who has just been told the worst joke in the world. Did she not just witness the breakdown you just had? You sit back roughly in your chair, running a hand through your hair. Your patience started to run thin with the woman, and so in a huff you slam down the letter rather roughly before looking back up at her.

"Can I take a vacation or not?"

She gasps before angling her body back, now glaring daggers at you. "I am the boss, you do what I say. You've already taken time off, so you don't need any more. I'm really very disappointed in you-"

"But-"

"-and I don't think you realize just how lucky you are to be working for Joja Corporation. There's no other job as liberating and rewarding than working for and growing the Joja family."

You make a noise of indignation, completely taken aback with how she had decided to handle this situation, especially after seeing you in the worst state you've ever been in. "You know what?" You slam your hand on your desk, letting out a huff of air through your nose, now staring at the place your hand had settled. "I quit!"

You turn to watch her face as your words sink in. She splutters and takes in breaths as she struggles to come up with something to say as a retort. Laughing loudly in her face, you stand and push past her, going straight towards the supply closet, where you know there are extra boxes. Picking up the smallest that could fit all of your things, you completely ignore your now ex-supervisors desperate pleas. "You have to put in a 2 week notice!"

"Nah, no I don't." You shake your head, now filling the box with all of your things. You'd rather die than leave any of your cute cubicle things behind for them to throw away. Smirking, you carefully place the last plant you had on top of the other knick knacks you had, looking over to the angry woman with the best shit eating grin you could muster.

"I would say it was a pleasure to work with you, but that would be a lie."

The time taken to get back to Pelican Town was doubled due to you selling your car and opting to take the bus instead, and in that time you started to rethink your plan of starting anew without any backup plan. Everyone else that was riding with you had gotten off long ago, and you were left with those who were just along for the ride, having nothing else to do but stay until they were kicked off. 

You were grateful for the emptiness though, no one spoke a word on the way there; they simply allowed you to exist among them, thinking your thoughts without interruption. 

You grunt in pain as you're launched out of your seat, suitcases toppling over loudly. Embarrassed, you scramble to get up, hoping no one was secretly laughing at you because it would honestly cause another breakdown. The bus driver shouted out your arrival, staring at you specifically through the rear view mirror. Sniffing, you grab your suitcases and hurry off of the bus, squinting from the change of lighting.

"Hello! You must be Y/N" an orange haired woman standing waiting at the bus stop, friendly looking and sweaty. "I'm Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's there now, tidying things up for your arrival."

You stare at her before taking her hand in a firm shake. She's pretty, and young looking but from the look at her hands she had to be older than you think. Her grip takes you off guard only slightly, rough calluses coming in contact with your own soft skin. You nod and grab your things again, wanting to get out from under the sun. There was a cool breeze cooling your skin, but just having been on a musty bus for the past couple of hours made you feel grosser than you normally would've. 

 "The farm's right over here, if you'll follow me" 

You want to tell her that you already know the way, that you've been here multiple times in your childhood, but you stay quiet not wanting to bring up memories that will just hurt you. You think staying silent is an even better idea when she takes two of your suitcases and heads down the road. 

Walking in silence is awkward for the first minute, and so you begin a conversation that you already regret happening the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth. "So," you swallow thickly, "how long have you been waiting out here?" 

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "Not long, maybe 15 minutes? First day of Spring is always brutal with the weather change."

You nod and keep walking, wanting to ask her more questions, yet you know that it would only serve to make everything more awkward. "Do you want something to drink? I have like a spare Gatorade if you're thirsty."

She makes a noise of acceptance and takes the drink from you, gulping it down quickly. The walk takes about 5 more minutes before you make it to a broken down fence.

"This is New Hope Farm."

You gasp loudly, a choked noise forcing its way out of your throat at the look of it. Grass overgrown, trees everywhere, boulders. It looked as if the place had been abandoned for years, and maybe it has been. Your grandfather must've been too old to continue the last couple of years, having been bedridden the months before his passing.  The air smells fresh, though, fresher than you've ever smelled it before, at least since you've grown up. A sense of calm settles over your being, just over the hurt and anxiety. At least you're okay for now. 

"What's the matter? Sure it's a bit overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication you'll have it cleaned up in no time." 

You smile at her as you open the gate for you both, entering the messy fields. It's another minute and a half before you actually make it to the farmhouse, "and here we are, your new home". 

You raise your eyebrows at the look of your grandfather's old cottage, it being slightly run down since you had seen it last. Your heart clenched at the sight, realizing that everything did in fact get old without you, or maybe alongside you. Taking in a deep breath, you jump as the door to the house opens loudly. A man, shortish and white haired leaves out of it. He looks slightly familiar, but obviously older. 

"Ah, the new farmer! Welcome I'm Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town." You wait for him to descend the steps, stopping in front of you. You faintly remember him, with less whites in his head and a smaller mustache. His old hat on top of his head is the same from when you were little. You shake his hand, reminding him that you had met him before. 

"Ah, my apologies!"

You shake your head with a small smile, slowly getting tired of pleasantries. "It's fine I was like…maybe 9 the last time I saw you."

The conversation staggers a bit before Lewis sucks in a breath.

"You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!" He looks around, a flicker of sadness in his eyes causing you to wonder how close he and your grandfather were. 

"So...you're moving into your grandfather's old cottage. It's a good house…very 'rustic'." You raise an eyebrow at his words, it was obvious that the house had seen better days.

"Rustic? That's one way to put it. 'Crusty' might be a little more apt though." Robin remarks, looking around.

"Rude!" Lewis gasps, whirling around to stare at Robin in shock. You guess it's the fastest he's moved in a while because his hands grasp at his knees for a split second.

The woman lets out a laugh, slapping a hand over her lips in amusement. You let out a snort, silently agreeing with her.

"Don't listen to her, Y/N. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades." Lewis says, sending the woman a glare. Robin, in turn, gasps in shock, her eyes darting between you two before frowning and huffing. Maybe she was trying to get you to buy an upgrade. 

"Anyway…you must be tired from the long journey. You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that." You nodded to him, but refused in your mind, not wanting to go parading around town introducing yourself to the villagers like some happy-go-lucky extroverted tv character. Lewis begins to leave, but stops a couple feet, maybe even a yard away. He has to yell in order to speak to you, and you sort of understand when you would rather not have to walk all the way back just to leave again. 

"Oh I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell just place it in this box here. I'll come by during the night to collect it. Well…good luck!" His voice is strained, when he shouts. You smile and wave, saying a goodbye to Robin as she walks after him. Turning to the cottage, you feel a sense of overwhelming sadness, your chest growing tight. You know that grieving is a process, and that healing isn’t a linear path, but a thought pops into your mind that this was a bad idea. How are you meant to process, heal, and move on when you’re surrounded by things that make you want to tear your hair out? Sighing, you head inside, setting your things down and snatching an axe off of the wall. 

You think to yourself that the healing can come later, preferably after you demolish the trees taking over the land, at least you’ll be able to see far enough to farm. Stepping back out into the sun, you get to work swinging the axe over your head as well as you can. The thump of the axe embedding itself into the tree sends vibrations up into your bones, yet the pain and unfamiliarity of the feeling makes you feel lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe you just had anger issues. But, chasing that feeling you swing again, and again, and again until both the tree and it’s stump has been reduced to logs that you could pick up. 

You leave the logs on the ground and move on to the next tree, and then the next, and you keep going until you can feel the sweat drip down your back, pooling around the edge of your jeans and your hips. Your breaths come in short, you huffing as you try to bring the axe overhead once more. Your chest is tight, and your head feels as if it’s not screwed all the way on. ‘One more time.’ You think to yourself, bringing the axe upwards. You can tell that the tree was close to being fully chopped down, and so with the last of your energy, you force yourself to at least complete it. Telling yourself that it was more about clearing everything quickly, you knew deep down that you just wanted to feel something other than sorrow. Your arms shake as the tool almost slips out of your grasp above your head. Arms burning, you force them forwards as you swing down, you hear the thump of the axe in the wood, and you fall over ears ringing, your vision fading to black.

[cosmicjoke]

Levi's Gratitude as Proof of His Innate Goodness

I was talking about this on another post with someone, but it's something important that I wanted to bring up on my own blog, too, as a separate thing.

I think Levi’s memory of his mother is vague, at best. I brought this up in my analysis post of "Bad Boy" as well.

When recalling his memory of Kuchel, Levi talks about how he thought, against the filth and rotten air of the Underground, his mother's "elegant posture" stood out all the more.

He says, specifically, "I was born in the Underground, and have only ever seen things that are Underground. So I thought... It's hopelessly dirty here. Even the air here is rotten. The more I realize this, the more I feel that mother's posture is so elegant."

And we see a panel showing only a partial image of Kuchel's face. We never see a fully realized image of her.

Levi then says on the next page, “That’s all I remember clearly”, referring to her elegance.

This story is told entirely from Levi's perspective, so I think it's plain from us never getting a full picture of Kuchel's face, and from what Levi says about her elegance being the only thing he "remembers clearly", that he doesn't have a solid or vivid recollection of her.

I think he was probably too young when she died to have any clear or solid memory of her. He likely doesn't remember what she actually looked like at all, really. All he’s left with, then, is the impression of her elegance against the backdrop of filth and rottenness he was surrounded by growing up. And I think he probably only remembers that elegance because of how sharply it contrasted with everything else in his life. That’s also why we see him fixate on it so much.

And it serves to truly highlight just how deprived Levi was of anything good in his life, that something so vague and even intangible became so meaningful to him, almost to the point of obsession.

He literally had no other anchor point of positivity, no experience or memory of anything good, than this hazy and uncertain impression of his mother’s beauty. That truly is heartbreaking, and it only serves to highlight further how extraordinary it is that Levi turned out to be such a good man.

Because the fact that Levi is so grateful for even that single moment of fleeting good in his life, a moment he barely even remembers, shows his own, innate goodness and the extraordinary strength of his character.

Most people would be bitter and resentful at having so little, (take, for example, Zeke), and even want to lash out at the world by making others suffer in the same ways they did, or take from others to fill the void of their own deprivation, but Levi instead cherished this one, good thing he had, and tried so hard to hold onto it, and preserve it. He appreciated it endlessly, and never lost that appreciation, no matter how bad his life got, no matter how horrible everything else was, how bleak and worthless his existence must have seemed, or how profound his loneliness.

I think that's a testament to Levi's innate goodness, to his innate kindness, that he holds such gratitude for something so small, especially in the face of the deluge of misery that was the rest of his life, and how he tries in turn to give people more than he had, to actively prevent them from suffering in the same ways he did, even to the point of sacrificing his own comfort for others, as in the case of him giving Petra's badge to Dieter, or rescuing Ramzi from that crowd in Marley, letting the kid have his own spending money, or holding that dying soldier's hand, even as Levi couldn't stand the feel of blood on his skin, just to comfort him in his last moments. I think we see Levi's gratitude for even the smallest kindnesses reflected, also, in the way he always goes out of his way to express his gratitude to others, always thanking his comrades for their efforts, always making sure to let them know that their efforts matter and are important. Like when he thanks Nifa for riding all night to bring him Erwin's instructions, or when he thanks Eren for saving them all in the underground cavern beneath Rod Reiss' estate, and tells Eren that it's thanks to him they can retake Wall Maria. Or when he tells Erwin that it isn't him he should be thanking for helping to capture the Female Titan, but all the soldiers who died in the effort.

It takes an extraordinary strength of character not to let the emotional devastation of his upbringing and life overwhelm him, and to still have the strength and desire to want to help others, when I'm certain there were times when Levi just wanted to lay down and die. Or when he wanted to hide away and protect himself from any more hurt or loss. That's why I always talk about how selfless Levi is. Even when he knows it's going to bring him more pain, he still does all he can to try and help others. He's never able to stay detached from people, or remain unaffected by the pain or loss of others, even as he tries to keep his distance, because he just cares too much, he has too much compassion and empathy in his heart, and too much generosity, even for people he doesn't really know.

I just think it's extraordinary how grateful Levi is for something that, for so many, would seem so insignificant and insubstantial, especially if they had lived a life as hard as Levi's own, or had experienced even half as much deprivation and despair as he had. I think it's proof of the fact that Levi was born with a good and generous heart. That he's an innately good person.

[countrymusiclover]

6 - How Daemon Targaryen Sees Me

Part 7

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender @iamavailablesstuff

If y'all have any suggestions or something you'd like to see happen I am totally down to taking requests for this story

“The little wolf finally shows her teeth.” Daemon smirked down at me seeing a vengeance brewing in my northern eyes.

Clutching the dagger handle in my right hand I gripped his shoulder with my left hand sniffing back some angry tears falling down my face. “Ohh yes. Wolves are more stubborn than I have let you believe about me.”

“You’re in a room full of dragons, little wolf. I must say your odds are too great at the moment.” Daemon teased me, not fazed by the blade drawing some blood from his neck.

I croaked through heavy tears thinking back to the day I was forced to marry the Rogue Prince before me. “Have you ever cared for me at all after we were wed?”

My feet slowly moved forward taking me down the aisle to the man who would be my husband. A man I had never met until today that is. I knew he was the King's brother and a great swordsman but other than that nothing else was provided to me. My hair was curled and falling loose over my shoulders with a cloak hood covering the top of my head. My gown was the gray and white colors with the Stark sigil of the Direwolf covering the back of my cloak that I had draped over my shoulders.

Finally reaching my husband I stood beside the Rogue Prince who was dressed in an all black outfit with red sleeves. His white Targaryen hair was styled with some of it being pulled back out of his face and the rest of it falling over his shoulders. He truly did look like the perfect prince before me.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The sept wrapped a white ribbon around our intertwined hands. "In the sight of the seven. I hereby seal these two souls. Binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crown, Stranger. I am hers ( his ) and she ( he ) is mine from this day until the end of my days." Blinking my eyes open I didn’t dare look him in the eye until we had to say the words back to one another that would seal the marriage between our two houses.

I knew every young girl probably would have chosen my position if they could marry a prince of the Seven Kingdoms. But I certainly wasn’t one of them. I was content with my life back in Winterfell with my brother Cregon. I didn’t need a husband. I didn’t want a husband or children, unfortunately it was my duty as the eldest lady of my household.

Unknown to me back then I was meant to marry a Dragon Prince, just not the one I called my husband at the current moment.

“Have you ever cared for me even now? Have you cared about me or our children or are we just simply the duty you had to do for your family!” I raised my voice pressing my nose against his, baring my teeth tightly down together.

King Viserys rose from his chair wearing the golden crown on top of his head while he attempted to gain my attention. “Lady Lehna, release the blade.”

“Remove the blade from the lord before we have to make you, my lady.” One of the Kingsguard was standing behind me with his sword drawn.

Rhaenyra was standing beside Alicent who was shielding her daughter Helaena and a somewhat drunk Aegon behind her body. While everyone else in the room had their eyes focused on me and my husband waiting to see what would happen next given that my outburst had stopped the celebration so easily.

Daemon dryly spoke down at me like I was a commoner to him or someone even lower. “I have enjoyed our time together when we go through the streets. Fucking each other without any care for the others around us. But I don't dare love you. You are no match for a dragon.”

“You ungrateful cunt!” I screamed, raising the blade and slicing his left hand when someone attempted to yank me backwards by the fabric of my gown.

I recognized Aemond's voice while he tries his best to snag his arms around my small waist. “Lehna! Lehna, that's enough”

“Get your hands off of me!” I raised my elbow hitting him in the gut charging at the rouge prince. Snatching the dagger up from the floor I gripped it about to stab him in the chair till Daemon noticed.

“Mommy.” Caraxes and Visenya both whimpered, still sitting in their chairs at the table.

Daemon snatched my wrist seeing the blade tip right above his chest where if I moved forward I could stab him near the heart but he teased me with a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “It truly is laughable what you’ve attempting to do right now. That you think that you can strike me.”

“I’m holding a dagger near your heart. From my vantage point I have the upper hand compared to you.”

Daemon shakes his head snorting out a thick laugh. “You won’t kill me, little wolf. You don’t have it in you.”

“Argh!” I grunted, taking a quick step away from him, dropping the blade from my hand hearing it clink onto the stone floor.

A Kingsguard raised his sword, putting himself in between Daemon and I worried that I might charge at him again. My hair was a tousled mess and I had some of my husband's blood on the front of my gown but I had no care about it. King Viserys strides through the crowd causing me to gulp nervously, not sure if he would be the normal gentleman he usually was since I had struck an attack on his little brother. “Your grace, please forgive me. I shouldn’t have-“ I curtsy to him till he raised his hand telling me not to do such a thing.

“My brother should have treated you better, Lady Stark. For his rudeness I humbly apologize.” The king put a hand over his heart giving me a sympathetic look back at me. “You may move your and the children’s things into a separate chamber until you get your marriage sorted out.”

I sent him a soft smile. “Thank you for your hospitality, my King.”

“Lady Lehna and her children can bunk in my chambers with me if she wishes to.” The young princess Helaena Targaryen softly offered to step around her mother and keep her hands together in front of her stomach.

Daemon had Rhaenyra standing by him while he was eyeing his bleeding hand. “I can escort the children and Lady Lehna now if you do not wish to return to your chambers yet, sister.” Aemond’s footsteps approached and I felt his fingers gently touch my forearm.

“I believe I can escort my children myself, my prince.” I addressed him with his title on purpose and he raised a brow clearly noting it.

“Lehna, I thought we talked about this-“

Barely meeting his deep gaze I drew my arm away from his grasp holding my hand out for the dragon princess Helaena. “Shall we retire for the night, princess.” She looped her arm through mine and I waved for my twins to follow us and they did, leaving Aemond slightly stunned while watching the four of us exit the large room.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

okay so a couple of days ago i saw this ask on @fellshish's blog about a need for a full 1941 discorporated aziraphale angst fic, realized i had an entire outline already in the hull, and... this happened:

a "what if crowley didn't miss in 1941" fic, including but not exclusive to the moment itself, the hours leading up to it, and the aftermath; a fanfiction (chapter 3/4)

summary:

It's Fell the Marvelous' awaited debut performance on the West End. He has his marksman, his turnips, and things appear to be going as planned—that is, until said marksman does the one thing he was supposed to avoid. Not missing. (or: the bullet catch goes wrong, and due to a tiny technicality, crowley's afraid aziraphale is gone for good. and crowley himself—for the first time in quite a while—is well and truly alone.)

warnings: full of blood, sweat, kissing while crying, blown up heads, prayers, nostalgic churches, polaroids, alcohol, and aziraphale being a discorporated bastard and bitching his way back to earth while a plot we should probably be focusing occurs as we ignore it entirely. and written extremely slowly. oxymoron but i couldnt get this out of my head fast enough and now you must endure it (should you choose to accept). i think i'm gonna be pretty proud of this though. excited!

(also thank @tforthetea for the inspiration because a conversation with them helped spark this the first time. all hail)

ao3 link for those who didn't check the title, and fic under the cut! :)

chapter 1: number thirteen

One of the things Crowley liked gloating about on occasion was that he was older than Death Itself.

He wasn’t technically wrong, per se. The humans think him mad, and the demons think him stupid, but he was still right. Human concepts, despite their hold on the population and overall importance, were non-existent before or even during the Beginning. The Four Horsemen and other ideas evolved right alongside the humans, so technically, Crowley was older than all of them. He rather liked having something to lord over War (in his head), during the few unfortunate meetings he would have with her. Famine was a non-issue, and Death could not touch him regardless of how much he didn’t like him. There were failsafes.

Now, however, actually being in the room that Aziraphale could potentially walk into and never come out of, Crowley would gladly take all of it back and pretend he never even thought about it at all.

The damned magician. Crowley never caught his name, but if he had, he would wrought him with the most annoyingly small curses that no one would ever believe to be true after today. Tonight wasn’t just about impressing the audience or even repaying that wine-filled debt, it was about them. Tonight, Crowley was to play the trusted stooge, and…shoot the angel. Point blank. In the face. And make it look real. And not discorporate him. And not get them fired. And—

There were a lot of things to consider, alright? To contrary belief, Crowley did, in fact, not think Death was silly or stupid. He’d also been there when It was born, you know. Crowley liked Abel. Watching It happen was, plainly, fucking terrifying. It brought up something new, and change was just as scary as Death. Ask anyone, and they’d tell you.

Crowley has been running that unfortunate meeting involuntarily through his head for the first ten or so minutes of waiting for the actual show to begin, while also listing out the terrible things he would do to the magician man had he ever held the opportunity again. He’d been sort of gunning (no pun intended) to stay backstage and avoid the riffraff, but been ushered out the dressing room the second he’d given his (admittingly harsh) two cents on the situation. Aziraphale said he wanted privacy before the big show, but Crowley knew he was just ticked. Aziraphale was an angel who thrived with a supportive devil over his shoulder.

So, Crowley is just milling around in the crowd as the Allied soldiers and their companions filter in. They come and go—a Lady even comes to check on him at point, mentioning odd vacant gazes and looking over shoulders paranoid-like, but he waves them off before they can pry. He really shouldn’t be so worried—even if Aziraphale…‘didn’t make it through the night’, he’d eventually be fine. As long as he discorporated a certain way, nothing too lethal—some deaths were harder to come back from others.

They’ve been discorporated before, of course. That was how Crowley knew this. Six millennia offered many opportunities for the event. But never, and it was never, at each other's hand. On paper, yeah, they killed each other on occasion, but truly…

Crowley shifts nervously, sending a glare at anyone who got a bit too close, but the brief discomforts aren’t enough to lift his spirits. There was one entity faffing about who refused to bugger off even with direct acknowledgements, though that might be because Crowley was imagining It. Or It really was here, and interested in the affairs of potential angel discorporation. Or a bomb was going to fall here and It was just beating the rush. The theories were far from endless.

Death appeared back there as soon as Crowley had been kicked out. He’s simply been dealing with it since then, and It probably wasn’t helping to lift his spirits. He shouldn’t be so antsy—both logic and mechanics deemed it so.

They’d be fine, Crowley repeats to himself near constantly, finding a proper seat in direct line of sight where Aziraphale will be standing. He readjusts his tie as the humans sit around him, creating a perfectly isolated bubble of red velvet seats. What did it matter that twelve humans died doing this before? They weren’t human. Death had no claim on them. It couldn’t take them even if It so desired.

Crowley scowls at the hooded figure standing near the entrance of the theater, cold scythe gleaming under the warm bulbs of the West End. Its just…standing there. Making no move to come closer, either. Odd.

Crowley sinks lower into his plush seat, as if trying to avoid Death’s gaze. But being one of two immovable objects on this Earth, It’s always on him. If Death had a goal, there would be no point in warding It away.

Seeing Death is a famous bad omen, and would send a chill down his spine had it been anywhere else. At this moment, however, Crowley is simply irritated. If It was looking for another soul in this theater, that was fine by him, let It take them, but It would not be ruining whatever this was. Humans were ever plentiful—there was only one angel deserving of Earth.

Before Crowley can decide whether or not he should be stupid and confront the omen in the room, the lights go dim. The crowd’s murmurs die down, and Crowley has no choice but to stay seated and watch the show. Aziraphale wouldn’t be coming on until the Ladies of Camelot had their first number, but Crowley could easily endure it. The gaze aimed straight at his head could be ignored.

World be damned if It took the angel’s enthusiasm. They’d be fine. Crowley just has to remember that.

-----

Things are, indeed, not going fine.

Crowley is meant to go up on stage any second now. Aziraphale has no inkwell in his gloved hand. No amount of snapping is removing said turnip from line of sight. He reads the pamphlet—then again, then again, then again, but there is no second option for apparently miracleless individuals.

Fucking. Hell.

Whatever false bravado Aziraphale is spewing is null and void compared to the should-be-non-existent nerves running through frantic hands and finding absolutely nothing useful. Crowley flips through the same two pages—give the stooge the bullet, poise, and shoot. The miracle would’ve ensure that the bullet would never leave the barrel. But now—now, well, he really regrets not considering a Plan B. Did they ever consider a Plan B? Apparently not.

Getting there is a blur. Aziraphale is essentially shoving the rifle into Crowley’s care, which is honestly becoming a worse idea by the second. He’s switching between the demon and the audience so quickly that Crowley can’t tell who he’s addressing. They’re deathly quiet, and Crowley would feel embarrassed if his heart that shouldn’t be there wasn’t pounding with too much blood in too little time. His mind is a soup. Muddled, feverish, and incredibly foul tasting. You wouldn’t want to drink it even if you were starving.

“I would ask you,” Aziraphale says loudly, cutting through the fog of utter mental mush, “to take this bullet, and load it into the rifle. Very carefully.”

Crowley nods belatedly, squeezing and turning parts of the gun to get the non-existent warmth running back through his fingers. He takes the bullet, and turns it round a few times while Aziraphale stares at him with excruciating anxiety. Is he stalling? Honestly, even Crowley wouldn’t be able to tell you.

“It's perfectly simple,” Aziraphale mutters softly, pushing the gun a bit closer. “Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear.”

Crowley can’t find himself to agree here. He’s staring at him, and that would usually get him to listen regardless of shades, but Death is boring into them like the harshest of theater critics. His skin is slick, almost clammy, threatening to let the gun slip and fire a stray bullet anywhere but its intended target. His back is sore, oddly enough. Irritating.

Crowley has questions, like he always does, but the time has long passed. What he wants to ask is ‘do I just squeeze that little bit there?’ pointing at (what looks like) to be the trigger—but then that would just make Crowley look incompetent, so he swallows it back and nodly lightly. He’s never fired a gun like Aziraphale seems to believe whole-heartedly, but he’s certainly watched it happen. He’s picked up enough of the motions to figure it out on his own.

That thought still doesn’t help when he’s being told to insert the bullet, though. Crowley fumbles through it, opening a mislaid hatch or two, but manages before Aziraphale could raise any alarms. He’s already stood back in position (when did that happen?) when Crowley raises the loaded rifle for all to see, proclaiming as such. He bites back the tremor threatening to appear—he wasn’t nervous. Excited, more like it. Excited to finally get an excuse to make a throw at the angel non-suspicious like.

That was all it was. Really.

Crowley turns the rifle one last time as Aziraphale spins more useless pageantry for the audience to woo at. They’re both grinning, but tightly and annoyingly false. It wasn’t the eyes that were the problem—what, do you think that demons ever got stage fright? Absurd!

It was just...well, there weren’t just humans in this audience. Crowley couldn’t forget the shadow looming at the end of the theater no matter how tight he grips the side of the weapon. But, just like Someone had laid out all that Time ago—Death could only perceive them.

It could not touch them.

It would not touch them.

It would not touch him, if he could help it.

The drums begin their incessant titter as Aziraphale finally turns to Crowley properly, blue cloak glimmering under the warm light of the stage before them. “A-are you ready, sir?”

Crowley would scoff at this if he could. Sir. Only humans ever addressed him that way; angels look down on him, demons sneer at him. Though he supposes this angel would be different—always throwing the curveballs, him.

“When you hear my signal,” the angel says, voice growing quieter, “shoot.”

Aziraphale removes his tophat, revealing preciously white curls. This pings something, the remaining traces of damned sense he’s got buried inside. Crowley isn’t sure what has possessed him—but he shakes his head. It’s all he can do. Don’t make me do it, he nearly warns out loud. Not if you know what’s good for you.

Aziraphale stills, but not before mouthing words that would be akin to an ashamed mumble if he were close enough. Trust me.

Trust me.

Satan, he got him there. That’s why Crowley was here, after all. Stooge. 100% Reliable Marksman.

Right.

Aziraphale isn’t nearly as good as Crowley at hiding his anxious gaze. “Ready?”

Oh, Heavens no. He never would be, but no better time than the present. Or something like that. He can’t recall where it came from.

“Aim…”

Crowley can’t ignore it anymore—he’s shaking. Extremely so, at that. It’s knocking around the air in his lungs very unkindly. It’s quite difficult to aim. His head is bobbing around in the scope.

Just about…

There it is.

Crowley waits—just like he’s done for the last…however long. A long time. His arms are starting to hurt, frankly. He rests his finger over the trigger to ease the trembling a tad.

And the magician remains silent.

Crowley ignores the sweat crawling down his neck. (Wasn’t it supposed to be freezing?) He waits some more—it’s not like one can forget where you are. Benefit of the doubt and such.

Nothing still. Nary a nod.

He’s been staring at him for a minute. The crowd hasn’t uttered a peep. Is Crowley just supposed to…do it? Did they talk about this? They must have. They talked about this. They talked about it, right? Yeah. Yeah, they must have—

"Fire!"

He startled him.

The reason why he listens is easy to explain. Aziraphale made Crowley flinch. A bit of a spook, really, not that bad of a fright. A sudden jolt—a tap on the shoulder, one that said ‘oh, look, you’ve got perfect aim already! Shoot!’

And he did.

What’s the first rule of approaching someone with a weapon again?

Right. Don’t fucking scare them.

The handle is warm. Slick, heavy, shaky. The scope aims with guilty target missing at the helm. A puff of smoke is spewing from the barrel. A thump, a sickening thump, deafening in the cricket silence of a post-trick world.

And Aziraphale…is on the floor.

(Where else would he be, really?)

There, obviously. On the floor. With a blown-up head. Bleeding like blessed Heaven. Bleeding like bloody Heaven, while Crowley has to take in the sight and smell the blessed thing.

It fits. They fit. Like a perfect crown on a decapitated head.

God, his head’s just gone, isn’t it?

A noise cuts through the thick silence like a stubbornly determined knife. Far away, above it all, there it rings. It’s muffled, soft, and almost awkward in the way it cuts through the air. A camera click. A reluctant, malicious camera click.

And that was just the perfect way to say it, no? He blew his brains out. Crowley blew his angel’s fucking brains out with a fucking gun that he’s never fucking held before.

Trust me.

Well. That, no doubt, was Aziraphale’s fault—it’d be a funny old world if angels and demons went around trusting one another.

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hgh. hope that was decent. chapter two coming as soon as it can because im invested now :))