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#and you see cracks starting to form. something is wrong but you don't know what. something is off. his behavior is strange
pencilpat · 3 days
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In Any Form You Take - dukeceit
Scar positivity, mostly made for the purpose of comforting myself, but I wanted to share it as well. I hardly see media involving people with scars as gnarly as mine, so hopefully this can bring others comfort as well. The title is a reference to this song.
Read on Ao3 here
[Content warning for implied past self harm and current body image issues.]
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Remus sits splayed out on its bed, trying to act like it isn't waiting for something. Janus has, for the first time in the months they've been dating, agreed to stay the night in its room. He disappeared into the bathroom to change almost 30 minutes ago, and Remus would be lying if it said it wasn't worried. It turns over to look at the ceiling, making bored popping noises with its lips.
It doesn't blame Janus for any nervousness there may be, Janus hasn't been naked around... well, any of the sides for as long as it can remember. Remus can't place when it happened, but as Thomas grew up and Janus became more engrossed in his role, he started to cover up everything. Literally and metaphorically. Long sleeves and even gloves, at one point when they were a teen he even had a half mask on his face before everyone discovered his snake-like features.
Remus knows Janus must be getting into pyjamas, and the sound of shuffling indicates it doesn't have to speculate for very much longer. Janus cracks open the door slightly, just enough to see his face, his long hair down and swaying by his chin. "Remus?"
"Yeah, Janus? Everything okay in there?"
"Yes. I'm okay. I- I just need you to not act weird, okay? Can you promise?"
Remus sits up cross-legged, face scrunched up in confusion. It chuckles slightly, rolling its eyes. "All I ever do is act weird, but I can tone it down for ya."
"Remus, I'm serious."
It takes pause, blinking and tilting its head to the side softly. Janus's tone of voice is heavily somber and almost nervous, and it's not one that Remus hears often. "Uh, okay. I promise, no weirdness."
Janus takes in a deep breath, and the door opens. His hand falls from the knob and holds his own wrist anxiously, eyes refusing to make contact with a nervous attempt at a coy smile filling his features. "I- I know it's a lot, feel free to stare and ogle as long as you'd like." Janus's biting sarcasm feels completely toothless, and he can't quite make himself look at Remus's face. So, when its suddenly right in front of him, he startles and gasps quietly. But as he's pulling away, Remus is reaching towards him.
"Stare and act weird at you about this? What? Why would I be that mean?" Remus lets its hand hover between them as it waits for a sign that it's okay to touch. It tries not to look outwardly fascinated by the scars that cover its boyfriend's arms almost entirely, all thick and bumpy in varying shades of purple and white. Old, but definitely some nasty keloids.
"Remus you've done meaner things in your sleep, don't play with me." Janus laughs and it comes out strained. Cringing at himself, he barely feels present all of a sudden. Like he's floating. Dizzy, lightheaded. "I know you've seen scars before, though you only seem to have them for a short time when you do get them, but they... stayed on me." Janus rubs his own arm, horrifically textured no matter what he does, breathing out shakily. Remus is observing him silently, and Remus is never silent. It makes him terrified. "Sorry, I know they're gross, this was probably overstepping. It was wrong to assume you'd be okay with it, I can go back to my own-"
Remus's hands close the gap, and rests right there, directly touching his scars. "Nah, you assumed right, I don't mind one bit!" It smiles, sharp teeth gleaming at him. "The shit you've seen me touch and you thought I'd find you gross? Jan, that's so unintelligent that I barely recognize you." Janus is frozen in place, his eyes watching Remus's face as it touches his arm, running its hands over even the ones Janus won't let himself touch. A gentle smile fills its face, and it leans in to plant a kiss on Janus's cheek. "Certainly adds a bit of dramatic flair to one's body, huh?"
Janus feels tears in his eyes, glancing to the side as Remus kisses his scales. He can't seem to make words come out of his mouth, because if they did it would just be bashful apologies and humiliated proclamations of how ugly he is.
"Did someone tell you you were gross?" Remus asks, bizarrely quiet and soft compared to its usual self.
"God no, I'd rather die than show any of the others this. No, I did all the name calling myself, thank you very much."
Remus's arms wrap around him in a hug, gripping him tightly. "Well then tell that asshole to shut up for once, why don't you?" It buries its face into Janus's shoulder. "I will hunt down and eat anyone who ever says those things to you, and that includes you yourself!"
"Remus..." Janus can't help a light, comforted chuckle at the expression of violence. "You won't be eating anyone, down boy," he jokes, laughing even as he's sniffling.
Remus pulls back, gazing at him fondly. "You're really pretty, Janus. Scars included." Its eyes darken playfully. "And when I see a pretty boy I want him in my bed!" Remus suddenly swoops Janus up over its shoulder like a sack, making the smaller side yelp and cling to it upside down. Without time to adjust he's chucked haphazardly into a pile of pillows, wheezing out a laugh and covering his face.
"My god, you're so dumb. Fine then, bed me Mr. Duke," Janus dramatically throws a hand against his forehead and lays back as though on a fainting couch.
Remus cackles and throws itself on the pillows right beside him. "No offense, babe, but I'm exhausted and I'd rather just cuddle and feel up your sick ass battle wounds, if you'd let me. I can even scream dramatically and act like I stepped in horse shit if that'll validate your self flagellation!"
"Oh, how caring and noble an offer," Janus quips, rolling his eyes and cuddling against Remus's chest. They both laugh, and then go quiet, staring across at each other.
"Love you," Remus offers up.
"Love you too," Janus accepts, the room darkening as Remus wills it to and settling them into darkness for sleep.
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onismdaydream · 15 hours
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HIIII!!!!! it's me again, the most obsessed and horniest yuji lover!♡🎀
Didn't have anything to do today so I have been on tumbler looking for any yuji content I can get my hands on :p! And I am just OBSESSED with headcanons, specifically yuji as your boyfriend! AHH!!!
Like, how would he first tell you he likes you? How long would it take? Ugh, now me personally, I can only imagine having a movie night alone, megumi and nobara canceled ofc because they don't want to watch whatever bs movie yuji picks :(. And then so there you are, Both cuddled up on the couch, a little to close together, and he is just.. so flustered! But why? It's not like he likes you or anything! Well, turns out he does and he JUST realized. So when the two protagonists in the romantic comedy yall are watching suddenly confess, he can't hold it back! It just blurts out of his mouth..which would be a bad thing, until you reveal you like him back!♡
Idk, I just find it soo cute, and honestly totally something he would do. 🤷‍♀️. But then like, first date? Would he take you to eat, the movies, or maybe to the mall?
Now this one, I'm not too sure, to many options and I love them all, but he would DEFINITELY make it romantic and cute ><!
Okay, but now like one of the MILLION dollar questions is.... how would he act on your period!
I'm sorry, but every single small headcanon, or fic of how ANYBODY would treat you while ur on your period is straight up Crack to me. I NEED IT. I love the wholesome headcanons. 😔🎀!
I think.. he would notice that your acting different, he cares about you after all so he notices every little thing. So when he sees you look uncomfy or maybe rubbing you hand on your thigh, trying to relieve some pain.. he asks you what's wrong! And when you tell him, I feel like he would IMMEDIATELY do whatever you want to make you feel better. LITERALLY.
"Oh. Really? Is there anything I can do?"
Chocolate? In ur hands the second you ask. Meds for the pain, he's got them? Blanket? YES! cuddles? Okay, is that even a question? OBVI!!!
Second million dollar question is how/what he would do yalls first time. Last headcanon i said was crack, but this one is like all drugs COMBINED. I like to think it would be a makeout session gone to far..
That movie you played has a sex scene, which, really doesn't bother you or him.. or it usually doesn't. Today though, a small thought forms in his brain. How would you look? Sound? Smell? Taste? Feel..? And then it's akward, because you're so close, and his hand just starts massaging your thigh, and he has to kiss you! Which at this point in the relationship isn't like super surprising, I'm sure yuji loves to kiss you. But this one feels different, yujis face is just soo pink, and he almost can't keep his hands off of you! Cupping one cheek while pushing you down on the couch with the other, so he's on top.. then one of his knees pushes your thighs apart.. 🧎‍♀️
You know the rest.
But I also like to think maybe yall are making out, you on top of his lap, but you can't stop squirming! And it really isn't on purpose, you swear.. but yuji can only take so much, And eventually he can't hide his moans anymore!
Yeah idk I feel like humping n shit, maybe cummin in his pants is SO hot. UGH
I don't think it would really be planned..😋🎀
Also, I feel like he would be super flustered and kinda embarrassed with oral. In the sense that, he could spend hours between your thighs (we all know he's a munch), but the first time you ask to suck him off, he probably turns into a whiny mess.
WHICH BRINGS ME TO THIS. Like- I'm sorry, but no matter how dominant or kinky people make yuji, which I won't lie I love, you CANNOT tell me this man doesn't whine or moan your name. You simply can't. LOOK AT HIM.!!! 🧎‍♀️🙏
I just, have so many thoughts and headcanons.. l can't control myself yuji headcanons are literally my drug. I love the subby ones, the Dom ones, fluff ones, smut ones... I DONT CARE. If a yuji headcanon exists, I WILL read it.
Omg, I have so much more but I have already made this soo long. I honestly just wanted to ask if you would ever make your own yuji head canons? Maybe you already have and I can't find it.. BUT LET ME KNOW!
I just HAVE to know what headcanons are floating around in that wonderful brain of yours!♡
Also so glad to see you liked my past rant♡♡!!!
I really hope you have a good day/night!!!! Make sure ur taking care of urself babes bc I can't survive without you><! 🎀
(Also sorry for any typos or whatever, this was 100% rushed because my fingers physically cannot keep up with all the thoughts I have of yuji.)
With a heart full of love, and a brain full of yuji,
-your horniest yuji lover!♡🎀
hi lovely <333
gonna put this under a read more so it doesn't take up too much space!
oooh headcanons are fun!! i don't post a ton, not for any particular reason, i just seem to gravitate towards snippets in established relationships.
omg yuji just blurting it out :(( what a sweetheart! he is mortified but i feel like he would try his best to play it cool, though his face feels like it's on fire from how flushed it is!! but then you tell him that you also like him and he visibly relaxes SO much and has the biggest smile on his face and he immediately wants to hug you and hold you close <3
i think for first dates, he would lean towards movies/mall, this way it's still semi-public. it's not that he doesn't want to spend time with you alone (he wants to soooo badly), but i think he thinks he has to take it slow and be sweet and gentlemanly. like he was definitely taught the "proper way" to court a girl by his grandfather, so he holds doors open for you and pulls out your chair and brings you flowers and stuff and its just so sweet of him idk. he might hesitate a bit for pda stuff, but once you give him the okay, he is constantly holding your hand or wrapping an arm around you!! maybe even asking for a kiss!! (side note: i think yuji gets all pouty when you forget to give him a goodbye kiss later in the relationship)
yes!! yuji would ABSOLUTELY be doing anything and everything for you as soon as he notices any symptoms or side effects. he's also the type to track your period on his phone lol just so he can prepare and give you some chocolate or whatever else might help! he is just like. the nicest and most caring boyfriend ever <3333
OOOH i love love love both of those for first time ughhh!! i have a fic i've been meaning to work on more but i'm just a little too fried to write much of anything, anyway its a dry humping fic with yuji because i just know he loves the feeling of it ! he can't even get embarrassed from cumming in his pants because it feels so good and he likes how dirty it is (he's a bit of a perv :3). BUT i also love the idea that he just can't help himself and he's so wrapped up in the moment that he doesn't even notice that his knee is pressing against your core... like he's licking into your mouth and grinding against you and you have to pull away because holy shit this feels great and you want more!! and it's kinda rushed and messy, barely taking clothes off but you both need each other so bad!!! (he makes up for it by taking his time with you for round 2 lol)
oh what i would GIVE to suck his dick... yuji is 100% super vocal in my opinion, like he cannot be quiet, which is why his mouth is always on you when he's fucking you! he's always kissing or biting or talking, so when you're sucking him off, he is left to just talk and make so much noise. whining and praising you because it feels so good to have your mouth wrapped around him <3 like imagine sitting between his strong thighs, looking up at him, and his eyes are half lidded, mouth open as he breaths heavily, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, muscles flexing as he tries not to force your head further down or buck his hips up.... ugh he's so hot...
i'd love to write more headcanons and other things for yuji!! its just a matter of me getting inspired or having the energy right now. work has been super draining for me so its been a little difficult to get my brain working lol but im hoping it'll pass in a few weeks
thank you for sharing these with me!!! i love hearing other people's thoughts and headcanons like its just so fun to see what's similar and whatnot :3
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kenjakusbraincum · 5 months
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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
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Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
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It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
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lymtw · 25 days
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Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.
It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.
You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.
You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.
For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.
He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.
You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.
His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.
"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."
"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.
He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.
He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.
Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.
Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.
He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.
"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"
You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.
"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"
"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.
"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.
Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"
Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.
He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."
"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.
"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.
"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."
"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"
"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.
"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"
"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.
He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."
"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"
"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.
"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."
He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.
"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.
"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."
He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.
"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."
His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.
You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.
"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.
Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.
He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.
"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.
"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.
"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.
"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."
You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.
"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.
You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.
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flamingpudding · 3 months
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I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.
Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.
Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.
Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.
Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!
Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.
Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.
-------------------
Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.
"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"
It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.
So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.
Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.
Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.
He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.
Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"
Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.
The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.
"Kla-"
"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."
Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."
Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.
"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"
"Look at these snacks."
"These accessories don't look to bad..."
His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"
The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.
"My mom is planning to visit me."
"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.
"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."
They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.
"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.
"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."
"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.
"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"
"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.
Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.
They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.
All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.
"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"
"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.
Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....
"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.
"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.
"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."
"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."
"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"
Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.
Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...
Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.
"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.
Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.
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fadingsnow · 5 months
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𓆙 cardigan - CORIOLANUS SNOW x f! reader
summary and tw: you find out coryo left you for lucy gray behind your back. (a little divergent from the story ofc) angst, divider credits : @cafekitsune 𓆙
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You frown at Livia's pitiful gaze placed on you, her eyes talking too much for your liking.
"What?" You said, talking to her even though you barely did.
She suddenly looked around uneasy, her fingers going easily to go play with each other. "Don't you know..?"
You looked at her confused, partially in annoyance. You never did really like it when someone kept something from you. "What?"
Livia hesistantly spoke, looking in the direction of the stack of papers including tributes. A paper with the name, "Lucy Gray", branded on it was on the front of the stack.
"Not of Snow and the district 12 girl?"
You tried to not show a concerned face, but you had heard some rumours. How could you not? Everywhere you went, all you heard was about the games. This had to be brought up at some point.
"I know I shouldn't have been there, but I saw them. Kissing, I just wanted to let you know."
You usually couldn't believe the words that spewed out of Livia's mouth, the Capitol probably all relied on her for gossip. Except this time, you felt it might be true.
Livia walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. A girl that wasn't you? From district 12? You chuckled to yourself in disbelief. The songbird?
You walked home on rough cobblestones, thinking to yourself about what he had done. Was he just lying the whole time? You blew on your hands, shivering from the cold. You unfortunately had to see Coriolanus Snow the next day. Those times when he had asked you what you thought of random situations, was that to.. help Lucy? Perhaps, you were too over-trusting of Livia?
For hours, the gnawing grief kept you awake at night. Does he love me? Does he love me not? You were plucking petals of a wilting white rose buried in snow.
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Snow walked up to you, that familiar grin of his accompanied. "My favorite girl."
You raised one of your eyebrows at his words, "As of late, it appears to be Lucy Gray. Don't lie to me, Coryo."
His face fell, his hands at his sides forming into small fists. "It's not what you think. How could you even think that of me?"
He had already reached that process of thought, you never even truly accused him. Was he really that defensive?
"Coryo, answer this. Be truthful. Did you kiss your own tribute?" You slowly ensured he heard every syllable, your chest pushed down with the hurt of the possible truth. You tried to resist the temptation to see if something about you was different from her.
"I did." He leaned into your direction, not even being able to tell if he feels any regret for it except in the way he moved.
You scoffed, "I love you, you idiot. Do you even know what love this?" Your voice turned toneless, and quiet. The fact started to emerge on you.
He didn't love you anymore. That is, if he ever did.
Your voice cracked, the way it did when a father yelled at his child for breaking a plate. You didn't want to cry infront of someone who would judge you even more when they are in the wrong.
You struggled to breathe, trying to bite the inside of your cheek. "Was it fake? And all those weeks before now? Are you.. infatuated with her?"
He stayed quiet, unable to find a response to you without you breaking down. His jaw clenched, eyes shut. "It seems I am. She's.. different from what the Capitol has to offer."
The Capitol. He meant you.
"Remember that one night, when Arachne's little group tried to make fun of us? I helped you that night. When you told me how you felt about them, truly."
He yawned in disinterest, waiting for you to either continue or stop.
Your mouth felt too dry, you felt too numb, cold. You felt too much. You felt the unwillingness to let him go. Lucy Gray met this Snow, she never knew the one before. The one you know.
"What does she have that I don't, Coriolanus?"
He looked appalled for a moment, he'd never heard that name come from you. What did he expect? Your shoulders drooped, you weren't sure if you could handle the internal battle that was about to begin.
"Don't make me, please." He shuffled around, the guilt starting to rise up to him. You were no songbird, yet you had the heart of one that Lucy Gray did not.
"What worse damage can you committ? You have broken me down till I am bleeding." You murmured, trying to hold onto the sanity you've managed to keep.
"She was like a breath of fresh air, she reminds me of what it is to love. It.. is fearful." He said, the feeling of a lump down his throat.
Fresh air. He had finally broke your heart, and there was no way of returning it back to you.
Crestfallen, you realized this would be your last moment with Coriolanus Snow. No embraces, no kisses, no well done when you finally did something right at the Academy, no more Coryo.
You felt an avalanche of sorrow pouring down onto you, grief enveloping you like the old friend it is.
"I see." You walked away, not being able to see him any longer.
"No- wait!" His voice called out, echoing against the walls. Yet, he never followed you.
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Lucy Gray was dead. The 10th Hunger Games ended. It was ironic, Snow had left you for something he was sure he wanted. Atleast, he got the one thing he wanted as president of Panem.
You watched the 15th Hunger Games begin with a speech, a man with white-blonde hair show up on the screen who sat on a stage infront of the crowd. His words were towards the public, but his attention was to you.
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churipu · 5 months
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Hi! ☺️ First and foremost, I hope you're doing well. Also, I just recently found your page and I love your writing!
I really liked your post on the super sensitive reader with the jjk men. Can I get headcanons of the jjk men with reader who is very stoic and a little emotionally constipated? Like they have never seen reader cry ever while in their relationship together, but then reader ends up having a hard week and ends up crying from frustration.
jjk men & their emotionally constipated partner
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featuring. shiu kong, itadori yuuji, todo aoi, geto suguru x reader
warnings. cursing and jjk men being sweet and soft to their partner <;33
note. hi anon! i'm doing great, hbu love? thank you for liking my works, you don't know how much that means to me, i hope you have a great day! and thank you for requesting, i find this request very interesting <33 also, thank you guys for the big amount of support i've been receiving for the last two days, can you imagine i gained like 140+ followers in that matter of time? i'm going to start violently sobbing istg. anw, i hope u sexies enjoy this <33
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SHIU KONG. shiu loves you a lot, even if you struggle in showing the love back to him, he knows you love him a lot. shiu would receive random messages (mostly a picture of something and then you tell him that it reminded you of him, probably deemed as your love language now). i feel like shiu is partly happy that you don't take things into the heart - but at times he'd be very worried about you. you never cry, you almost never get angry at him even if he did something wrong (you'd just tell him it's nothing and you weren't mad, but he sometimes think it's because you didn't want to engage yourself in arguments), and hell, he barely sees you smile at all.
shiu has heard you tell stories about your new work place, which you quote unquote as toxic. and you've been in the company for no longer than three months, but the stories about your very annoying co-worker and your boss never stops. he swore that the topic of your work place was the only thing that could get you riled up.
i feel like shiu would be the type of boyfriend who would tell you to stop working because he's financially stable enough to provide for you, but you decline telling him that you didn't want to live off of him.
shiu didn't force you to stop or quit your job though, he'd be glad to listen to you talk about your days at work.
"y/n? you're ho— darling, what happened?" he saw the solemn look on your face and realized that something must have happened (yet again) at your work place, he dropped the cigar that was lodged in between his lips and immediately approached you.
you shook your head, inhaling sharply before kicking off your shoes, "work, of course."
"is it your boss? or that same co-worker again?" shiu knew that it was either your boss or this one co-worker who doesn't seem to enjoy your presence in the office.
"both." you sat down on the couch, throwing your head back in exhaustion (you were about to cry and the only way to stop your tears from coming out was to just force it back in with your head back), "i'm getting my paycheck reduced this month."
shiu took a seat next to you, "why?"
"i was blamed for something my co-worker did, this is so unfair," your voice cracked a little and shiu pulled you into a hug, you choked out a sob, "this is so unfair," you muttered out, your pent out anger and disappointment finally seeping out in a form of tears.
"hey, shh..." he soothes you, pulling back to see your tearful eyes. he grazed over your cheek to wipe the droplets away, "let me take care of them, yeah?"
you shook your head, "don't have to, i don't want to make this into a bigger mess."
shiu planted a kiss on your forehead, "don't worry about it darling, you trust me, don't you?"
"yes."
shiu had a "talk" with your boss and your co-worker the very next day and your co-worker ended up resigning right after, and your boss, well they never bothered you anymore (and you're getting an extra paycheck for the next half a year).
ITADORI YUUJI. people always wonder how you and itadori ended up with each other. him being this ray of sunshine, and you were like the moon. but he didn't care about what everyone says, he loves you — and that's what matter, right?
wrong. don't think that you didn't notice the enormous shit talking about you behind your back, about how you probably bribed itadori into dating you and what not. usually, you'd shove all those down the drain and forget about it.
but for some reason, you couldn't help but to rethink about what they said. how itadori isn't too fit for you, or how you don't deserve him at all. the only thing that managed to trigger you was how somebody said that itadori deserves someone more "emotionally available" for him, and that person isn't you.
you never liked being emotionally constipated, people always talk about you behind your back, saying how you're so distant and that being the reason you don't have any friends. you keep telling yourself that you're used to it when it comes to you, but when it comes to itadori and your relationship — you feel helpless.
"y/n? are you okay?"
you looked up at him, a glint of worry flashing in his eyes. and you can't help but to feel the frustration building in you as you remember the words people say to you, "yes..no? i don't kno—" you choked out, smacking your hand on top of your mouth at the sound you let out.
it just got worse when you feel the tears you've been penting up for the past few weeks come out. itadori blinked feverishly, a little surprised to see you crying like this. he has never seen you cry before, "y/n..?" he breathes out, his hand reaching out to you, but you moved back, trying to avoid his touch.
the embarrassment you felt was horrid, you hated crying in front of people, even your own boyfriend, "baby," itadori mutters out seriously, grabbing your arms and then pulling them away from your face, "tell me what's wrong. talk to me."
i feel like he knew where this was going, he had a hunch. for the past few weeks, you asked him about why he was with you, why he loves you when there were better people out there (you think). and he knew it was because of what people said.
"i...i just don't think i'm the right one for you, yuuji. they're right, you need a more emotionally available partner."
itadori's face fell when you said that, and he shook his head, pulling you into his embrace. rocking back and forth like a baby, "why would you say that? why would you listen to them y/n?" he asks quietly.
"i...don't know."
he pulled away, brows furrowed and he held your shoulders, "you're perfect for me, i don't give a fuck what they said about you and i. the next time someone says something, i'm going to beat them up," the thing is, he looked so serious you couldn't help but to chuckle.
"you just chuckled.." he breathes out, "my life is complete."
TODO AOI. he's very boisterous, and i feel like he'd be the type of person who would defend his partner everywhere they go. when you accepted his feelings, he was surprised since he never expected you to like someone like him. but he was pretty damn proud of you, and as a boyfriend, he shows you off like a trophy.
telling people about how amazing you are, how you make him happy, or how you treat him nicely. but people are fucking judgmental, some of them don't like the idea of others living happily — and you never thought that "these" particular people would target you next for it.
saying how fucking weird todo is for liking someone like you, and you had to be honest, it did get into you. and so began your avoidance to your own boyfriend, todo.
he hates it. he hated how you changed out of the blue, no matter how hard he tries to reach out for you, you weren't the same anymore and he never got why you decided to change.
believe me when i say that he tried asking his friends about it, or about tips to get you to talk to him. but really, they weren't much of a help, saying how you probably got bored and is avoiding him so he would be the one to break up first with you.
todo didn't want to let the idea of that get into him, but after a few weeks of you avoiding him non-stop, he began thinking the same thing. were you bored of him? did he do something that you didn't like? or is it because he ate the last chocolate chip cookie you were saving up and blamed it on someone else?
so when he got the chance to bump into you, he immediately took it as a chance to ask you about it.
"why are you avoiding me?" you tried ending the conversation right away by going the other way, but man is fast fast so he didn't let you — still wanting to know about the sudden change in your behavior.
todo knows how you didn't like being cornered, or how you don't like talking about the relationship, sappy shit. but if he didn't talk to you about this, todo knew he was going to regret it.
"y/n," he grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you back lightly, "did i do something wrong?"
you were silent for a few seconds before todo's ears perked up at the sound of soft, choked out sobs. you were crying. you were crying. and the panic sinks in, "i..i'm sorry, did i pull on your collar too hard?!" he panics, flailing his arms.
you shook your head, "...no, i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo stopped his panicking and stood up straight, "i couldn't stop thinking about what people have to say about us, and now that i think about it, i feel like you deserve more than me," todo widened his eyes and looked around.
"who the fuck said that? i'm going to beat them up so bad people won't recognize them," todo mutters out and the corner of your lips tugged upward, "is that why you're avoiding me?"
you nod, "it was wrong. i know i should've said something about it. i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo laid his hand on top of your head, brushing your h/c softly with a gentle smile, "you're perfect for me, fuck those people," he cusses out, "next time you hear em', don't forget to find out their names— i'm going to give them a lesson for it."
SUGURU GETO. suguru and you are like two peas in a pod. people never see him without you and vice versa, and often people would say that you both are the perfect couple. despite your personalities almost being the same type of calm, suguru is a calm man, and he's soft spoken. while you were just plain cold and stoic, rarely speak of something or even show your emotions.
someone bothering you? okay. someone making fun of you? okay. you were practically a walking definition of "i give zero fucks". but that doesn't mean you can't feel hurt, you are still human after all.
so when suguru told you about how he has a new co-worker, and how she has been clinging onto him, how she tries to get in his pants. you find it cute how he tells you about it, even telling you that you should come to his workplace so he could show you off.
you didn't feel anything because you trusted him. until you see the so called "co-worker" of his. she's pretty, you can't deny that. and you could see how she gets along with almost everyone, having no problem in instigating a conversation or complimenting people. people definitely like her.
that's where the insecurity began sinking in.
would suguru fall for her like everyone in his workplace does? would he leave you for her? so many questions you wanted to find the answer to.
"baby?"
you look at him, completely out of your daydream. he cocks his head to the side, "are you okay? you've been zoning out a lot lately..." he said, voice gentle and worried.
you nodded, "yeah. sorry. got a lot in my mind."
"do you want to talk about it?" he brushes a few h/c strands from covering your face, "you've been a little distant. is it something that i did, baby?"
god, just the thought of suguru thinking it was him made you a little sensitive. the past few weeks was already hard enough for you to contain yourself from breaking down, and him asking that made the tears you held in for so long drop out all at once.
suguru was a little taken aback and he sat straight up, alarmed, "y/n? baby? what's wrong?" he asks you gently, wiping the tears that never ceased from your face.
"i feel..i feel like i'm not enough. you deserve better than me, suguru." suguru swallowed the lump in his throat, he should've known, ever since you came to his workplace, you had started getting distant. and he should've known that was the reason.
suguru shook his head, cupping your face before giving you soft little kisses all over your face, "don't" a kiss on your forehead. "you" a kiss on your left cheek. "dare" a kiss on your right cheek. "say" a kiss on your nose. "that" a kiss on your chin.
the male gazes into your eyes deeply, "i love you," he softly said before planting a kiss on your lips, "you're the one i want, you're perfect for me. i can't see my future without you y/n, so please don't think about that..."
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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nohaijiachi · 6 months
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Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
Before we get into the subject matter of the title let me preface a couple of things:
1- All that will follow is, big surprise, my opinion and my interpretation of this character. Do I think I am The One And Only Who Gets The Blorbo Right and that my ideas are 100% the way the author(s) intended to convey the character? No.
More likely than not the way I see Aziraphale could be intensely different from the way Authorman sees him, or Actorman sees him, and I don't think that my interpretation is necessarily any more correct than anybody's else.
That said, if I also did not think that I am, in fact, correct on a certain level, I wouldn't have bothered forming such a thought out opinion of Aziraphale in the first place, nor would be sitting here, writing this post that I can already tell is going to be entirely too long and might probably ruffle some feathers.
So I'll be writing the rest of this post with the caveat that I while I do think my interpretation correct, I'm also not trying to change anybody's mind nor to discredit anybody's else interpretation of Aziraphale. We can sit here in the sandpit and hold different opinions and still be able to build sandcastles together, it really isn't that deep at the end of the day; I can assure you, I'm not here to fight nor cause fights with this one.
2- With the above point, comes also the fact that I won't bother continuously saying "In my opinion" for the rest of this post. You already know that. So, if something will come across as a bit caustic, do know that it is very much tongue in cheek and I am poking a bit of fun at general fannish habits that I am also very much quote-unquoute 'guilty' of having partaken into, and will partake into again plenty of times in the future, I'm sure.
So, with that: Here's Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside
A large part of the people comprising this fandom prefers Crowley. There, I said it.
This fandom's preference blatantly skews toward Crowley. Can we admit that openly? Let's admit that openly.
To be clear, this isn't meant to be an accusation or recrimination or any other -ation you can think of, I am merely stating matter-of-factly a phenomena I've observed in the last four years.
It is also not a wrong nor bad thing in any way, shape or form. I adore Crowley myself. I love them both so much it's unreal.
But I started with that because I think it is very much a symptom of the fact that a lot of people don't get Aziraphale.
I remember back with S1 there had been plenty of times when I found myself reading discussions and opinion exchanges about Aziraphale and Crowley, their dynamics, all the things that went unsaid behind the things that were said, and found myself genuinely surprised by seeing how some people interpreted certain moments wildly different from how I personally saw them.
I look back at that and I think "Oh, sweet summer child". Nothing could have prepared me from the onslaught of takes about Aziraphale that make me go "Good lord, what???" in the wake of S2, and the infamous Last Fifteen.
Now because I don't want to be pointing fingers at specific things and risk upsetting somebody more than I already am by being open in admitting that, guys, yes, some of the takes y'all have been sharing make me go "Yikes(tm)", I'll move on the interesting part and what I would actually love to discuss, aka cracking Aziraphale's head open and see what that actual fuck is going on in there.
Another preface: Because this duo is intrinsically linked and woven together it is downright impossible to only focus on Aziraphale without also mentioning Crowley, so... Let me circle back to our fav demon bae for a sec, here.
I think the reason why it seems that a larger part of the fandom favors Crowley is because I feel like Crowley is a much easier character to grasp. He is very open in his thoughts and feelings, at any given moment us, the audience, have a much easier time watching a scene and sort of ruminating in the back of our heads about Crowley's motivations for saying the things he says and doing the things he does.
That isn't to say Crowley is a less complex character than Aziraphale. They are very much equally complex and multifaceted individuals with their strengths and weaknesses, their issues and the way they each cope with them, how differently they approach their existence and so on and so forth.
But whereas Crowley as a character presents itself with a certain dynamism and a far more outward openness about his complexity, Aziraphale does the exact opposite; we can say Aziraphale is downright hermetic about it.
For us, the audience, he presents a challenge that requires a good deal of thought being put into him to see over the facade he presents at a more superficial level; he requires time and effort to fully dismantle him in our minds to try and see what makes him thick (other than his thighs), and thus I think it is entirely natural that more people latch on the far easier to identify-with, and relate-to, Crowley.
And that is the inevitable consequence of everything that makes Aziraphale... Well, Aziraphale.
So, where to start? Let's try and jot down what Aziraphale truly is at his core.
He is a contradiction.
This man-shaped being is a walking contradiction, constantly existing in a state of being coated in three thousand layers of misdirection and obfuscation and double thinking.
Why is that? Well. He's an angel.
Aziraphale loves being an angel. It is a tenet of his entire existence and something he cherishes. He wants, so very much, to be his ideal of what a good angel is: An entity who is kind and loving and understanding and forgiving.
Of course us, the audience, know that is utter bullshit, because we know angels can be individuals just as complex as the humans Aziraphale loves so much, with all their inherent flaws and capability for cruelty. And, on a certain level, Aziraphale knows that too.
So there we have it, one element of contradiction: Aziraphale wants to think that angels are always Good and Righteous and Never Wrong; Aziraphale knows that angels aren't, in fact, always Good and Righteous and, by god, can they make plenty of mistakes, too.
What else? How about Aziraphale sitting there, being in love with a demon, fully knowing that at the end of the day demons really ain't that different from angels, and also desperately hanging onto the concept of Good vs Bad.
And he sits there, existing with these two contrasting idea equally taking space in his mind, neither side ever capable of taking over the other.
What else do we have? Aziraphale loves God and wants so hard to believe in Her love for humanity and Her ineffable plan, and Aziraphale also time and again does things that very blatantly go against Her will, lies to Her face, and Doubts. He Doubts, a lot, and that requires the capital letter because those Doubts are what spur him in going against everything he's ever told to believe in order to do the right thing.
Aziraphale's very existence is a constant push-and-pull of things he wants to believe and things he knows are real; things he's told to do and things he wants to do. That's how we get "My side" and "there's a bit of good in you" and "you are the bad guys".
And nothing he's lived through has managed to break him out of this unhealthy way of existing quite yet; that's why he acts the way we see him act in the Edinburgh flashback in S2, or at the start of S1 when Crowley has to ease Aziraphale into the idea of trying to stop Armageddon with the usual song and dance of "temptation" and "plausible deniability" and "you'd be thwarting me", even though from the start we can tell there's a little part of Aziraphale who is clearly not at ease with the idea of the end of the world, and once he's been given 'permission' by Crowley nudging him, he is all the way in with the whole saving the world business, not take-backsies.
Both the moments I mentioned here are very important for different reasons, but of the two is very much the Edinburgh flashback that gets a lot more flack by the fandom and is blatantly misunderstood, which I think is the inevitable consequence of that minisode immediately following the glorious, beautiful, heartbreaking piece of art that is the "A companion to owls" minisode.
I've seen a lot of people lamenting that Aziraphale acts obnoxiously in the Edinburgh flashback and, yeah. He does. But I feel like the fact that we are seeing this after watching Aziraphale struggle his way through saving Job's children, even being willing to go to Hell for it, is a though act to follow and probably soured Edinburgh-Aziraphale for a lot of people, made them think that the character had regressed instead of progressing.
But, see, the way he acts is wholly congruous with who Aziraphale is and has always been and keeps being up to the very end of S2. Yes, even after what he does for Job's children.
If you get down to it, Aziraphale had been ready to give up and let the children die, in episode 2. For a brief moment, after Crowley told him he 'longed to destroy the blameless children', Aziraphale was walking away, having tried all he thought he could try to do to stop this senseless act. That was until Crowley tested him by making the crows bleat, cuing Aziraphale to the fact that his impression of Crowley wasn't wrong, and the he could count on him to do the right thing.
To be clear, I don't want to undermine Aziraphale's action by only giving the credit to Crowley but... It is, also, only thanks to Crowley cajoling him and giving him the right excuses, that Aziraphale feels safe in doing what he's always wanted to do all along.
He'd wanted to save Job's children, and thought he couldn't until Crowley threw him that hell of a lifesaver. He wanted to save the world and thought he couldn't until Crowley nudged him on the path of plausible deniability.
He wanted to save Elspeth's eternal soul, blinding himself to the hardships she'd have to endure in her not-eternal life, and was smacked right in the face by the reality of human suffering multiple times.
The way Aziraphale acts in that flashback can't be a regression, because there never was a progression in the first place: He'd always walked the line between Heaven's and God's will and his own, personal morality and sense of justice.
By all means, if we look at Uz-Aziraphale and modern-day-Aziraphale at the start of S1, his reticence about the whole saving the world business should, by all means, appear as a regression as well. You mean to tell me that he'd been ready to become a demon for the sake of three mortal children, and then suddenly a handful of thousands years later when faced with the prospect of the whole world going up in flames he'd just be all like "Heaven will triumph over Hell and it will be all rather lovely"? Like, fuck off, Aziraphale, you lying double-thinker, you (/pos)
Aziraphale constantly exist while being at war with himself. Circumstances have allowed him to rebel the will of Heaven and God more or less safely time and again, but he never quite managed to break free entirely. He'd always ended up being reeled back in, being fed the party lines, being made to feel shame for his independent thinking, until it all becomes too much and he is forced to step back from that freedom he'd been inches away from grasping.
Back and forth, back and forth, never stopping.
And all of this, all of what he is, makes it so hard for us, the audience, to truly see him. To truly grasp him. To truly watch any given scene with him and figure out what he might be thinking or feeling.
To understand Aziraphale is to understand what he is not saying when he says something, which is a good deal harder to do than it is to understand and relate to a character like Crowley, who very much revel in saying exactly whatever the heck he thinks whenever he damn well pleases.
All those layers of obfuscation and misdirection and double thinking that Aziraphale coats himself in are as much an armor that makes it harder for the audience to understand him as they are his very own downfall because, good lord, if you exist like that, if you exist forced to keep things hidden from yourself, well... It's inevitable that at some point you are going to stumble into pitfalls of your own making.
And I love him for it.
So, there? I hope I managed to explain something with this post, and that it wasn't just the rambling of someone who spends way too much time thinking about her blorbos. To be clear, I don't think people who haven't spent as much time as me trying to dissect and better understand Aziraphale's character are like, dumber than me or anything. It's just that this pair of angelic-demonic blorbos take too much real estate in my mind, lol.
Feel free to let me know your opinion and if you think I am wildly off mark and my Take Is Bad. I might answer, I might not, it all depends on time and my mood ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜
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walpu · 2 months
Note
[Kicks down door. Gets in. Fixes the door. Sits down and puts this on the table]
Aventurine x Halovian!reader, your honor.
Halovians, stars and icons across the universe. Shrewd, charismatic, and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles. Not to mention the radiating frequencies of their halo can convey the nature of their thoughts in the form of telepathy.
Tldr: Aventurine can't decipher what's on their mind for shit unless they convey so.
Such beauty, such grace, but they will be a lost finch like it's another Tuesday. Despite the common knowledge that Halovians are stars and icons across the universe, they're more... Free and out in the wild (no responsibility to serve The Family, travels the cosmos alone, etc etc) and is unafraid to convey their emotions in another way.
Their wings would brush his face for giggles. When agitated they'd plop their head on a table and flap their wings, tapping the table rapidly, same goes with happiness. Although shrewd, and won't let anyone sense their true feelings they'd cup his face and give him smooches. Asking how's his day? Anything new happening? They brought something and he might've like it because it reminded them of him.
Their heart would sing with joy and mourn with his sadness. What did he do to score an angel such as them?
(Hmmm, cheese-)
- 🪽
I'm a blind rat and at first I misread Halovian as Heliobus and was like huh okay it's something to think about actually 😭
I really like the idea, it was fun to write!
Aventurine x Halovian!reader
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characters - Aventurine
notes - gn!reader, fluffy, a bit of a hurt/comfort, no beta
Okay first of all since Halovians quite literally can translate their thoughts and feelings to someone, not to mention how shrewd they are, I feel like Aven would have hard time relaxing around you at first. He is used to be the one who can see through people while hiding behind the nonchalant mask. And now not only he's the one being read like an open book, he also can't decipher you.
It's sort of a challenge for him at first. He learns to see even the smallest changes in the way you act, how your voice trembles ever so slightly, how your wings flap adorably when you experience intense emotions. He doesn't notice when he starts observing you not out of desire to protect himself but out of curiosity and then out of adoration.
Man he falls hard.
There's just something so precious to him how you never use your abilities against him. Yes it's a bare minimum but it's still something special to him okay.
He would absolutely adore your wings. Wouldn't touch them without your permission of course, but once he knows you're comfortable with this he always tries to caress them in some ways.
Would try to spread them carefully to admire them.
If you don't take offense in being compared to birds, he would give you some bird-relared nickname.
Someone on twitter pointed out that female Halovians have bigger wings but smaller hallows and it's the opposite for the male Halovians.
So he would pick a bird to nickname you after depending in the size of your wings lol
And if you think it would be some cute bird, then, well, you're not wrong, it's usually something endearing BUT he would NOT hesitate to call you his pigeon or pelican when he feels like teasing you.
While Aventurine never hides his origin and is, sadly, used to people's comments about him being an Avgin, it would still hit very differently when people would whisper about you, a Halovian, being with an Avgin. He usually doesn't say anything about it, just hiding behind his smile. Even if the mask cracks, showing obvious discomfort. Remember the face he made when Ratio brought up his origin? Yeah, this.
Please shut everyone up. Doesn't matter if you give them an unsettling biblically accurate angel looking ass smile and tell them to Be Quite or if you straight up tell them to stfu, just let Aven see that you are willing to defend him and your relationship.
Reassure him too. He will laugh softly and tell you that you worry too much, that he knows you love him, but he would still treasure your words.
Okay back to positive stuff, he would help you to groom your wings!!! Would learn all about it too. Please compliment his needy ass on his wing-grooming skills, he didn't sleep for the whole night trying to learn how to do it correctly.
Be ready for a lot of silly questions he asks just to pester you and get your attention.
"darling, my darling, and what would happen if you'd throw your hallow as a frisbee? would it come back?" "it's sharp enough to cut through rock, Aven". "ohhh, pretty but deadly, just how I like it~"
Adores it when you tickle his face with your wings, he always leans into the caress with the expression of a spoiled lapcat.
Would find it funny if you'd use your telepathy for silly things. Like he takes you to some business meeting with him or, on the country, you take him somewhere with you, and it's just boring as hell. So you sit there, smile mysteriously, all while telepathically whinig to Aventurine how this place sucks and how you hate all those people. It takes a lot for him not to laugh.
If you flap your wings during kisses then it's the end of him I fear.
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boyfiejay · 2 months
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Just One Chance
PAIRING : Nishimura Riki x gn Reader
GENRE : potential f2l, hurt, comfort, crack
Warning : break up, crying, riki overthinks
Word Count : 0.8k
Author's Note : wrote this in the library while my friends were actually studying 🥸
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In your 8 years of friendship with Riki, you two have been at each other's doorstep in the middle of the night countless times. But this time it was different, it was 2 A.M and you stared at the text from Riki saying he was tired and going to bed early
Was this really worth waking him up and ruining his sleep? But it seems that your broken heart had already made the decision.
Riki wasn't expecting to wake up to the sound of his doorbell, he reached for his phone, squinting his eyes at the bright screen. 2:07 it read. Who could it be so late at night? Only one person came to his mind.
He opened the door, taking in your form. You looked guilty, but above all you looked sad, heartbroken even.
He let you in, already knowing who this was about. He watched as you took small steps towards the couch, the same one where you first told him about your now ex-boyfriend, at least he hoped it was an ex now.
He silently sat down beside you, waiting for you to speak. Riki had never pressed you to tell him anything, and you were thankful for that. He has always been good at comforting others despite what he likes to say.
"He.." you trailed off, emotions getting the best of you as tears streamed down your cheeks. Riki put his arms around you, pulling you close till your head was buried in his chest. He stroked your head, running his fingers through your hair.
"He was angry about s- something, I asked him what was wrong b- but he just started yelling at m- me." you said, sniffling and stuttering throughout the sentence.
Riki didn't say anything, letting you collect yourself. "So I left him alone. After a while he told me that he saw me talking to you and he got jealous. Said he was already having a bad day and didn't need to see me being all over you." you said, hurt swirling in your eyes as you stared into the distance.
Riki held your face in his hands, wiping the remaining tears on your face."I'm not going to say sorry for that. If that's what you were expecting." he said in a small voice, afraid to scare you if he sounded offended.
Honestly, he didn't know what to feel about this, should he feel guilty that he was the reason for a fight? But then again it wasn't his fault that your boyfriend had such low self-esteem.
"No, I don't want you to apologise. But..." you said looking in his eyes trying to find reassurance for what you were going to say next.
"But what?" he asked, his hold just a tad bit tighter. His mind raced with thoughts of what that guy might have said or done, every single one making him want to beat him up.
"He said he would break up with me if I continued talking to you." you said, looking for something anything in his eyes.
Riki looked away, he wasn't surprised he knew that sentence was coming the moment you started to date him. What surprised him was that your boyfriend had survived without saying this for almost 5 months.
"What did you say?" he said, his voice coming out choked. So this was it then? He would never get to hangout with you again just because of some guy.
Above all he regretted not telling you his feelings sooner. Did he ever have a chance?
"Of course I said no. He was being too much, so i told to go fuck himself and came here." you said, half asleep, because well Riki was extremely comfortable and you were tired.
But Riki couldn't believe his ears, of course he had some hope that you wouldn't leave him just like that. But the way you sounded so nonchalantly had him seeing red.
Here he was being sad and sappy about how he wouldn't get to be your best friend now and you were sleeping?
He lightly pushed you off him, holding your face in his hands with an exasperated expression on his face.
"You couldn't have told me this sooner. I was about to start crying, you dimwit." he said, shaking your head in his hands.
You groaned, pushing his hands away "You seriously thought I would leave you just for some guy I've known for like half a year? You have no hope in me." you said, crawling back into his warmth. Damn him for being so comfortable.
He watched with an opened mouth as you pushed your head in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. Both of you are half lying on the couch.
He stayed still, knowing you would fall asleep like that, comfortable in his arms. While he will have back pain the following day, but it was okay. As long as he could have you this close to him. As long as you give him a massage tomorrow.
Now that you were single, Riki was going to make sure you see him and no one else. He was going to make sure he tells you his feelings that he's been hiding for so long.
And he knew you would give in. That you would give him a chance. 
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adventuringblind · 2 months
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Safety In Your Arms
Dando x Reader
Genre: Hurt-comfort, maybe spicy via implied smut
Summary: Sometimes things go horribly wrong, nothing like what you expected, and it sends you hurtling towards emotions you never asked for. Lando and Daniel hate to see her this way.
Warnings: implied sexual content prior to and post incident, r@pe, anxiety, panic attacks, worried partners
Notes: Not sure this is exactly what you wanted because I don't write r@pe fantasies... regardless I hope the requester likes it :)
Side Note: Please leave notes! I think I might have been shadow banned recently as my fics are not being interacted with as much as they used to. Maybe it's just me being self-conscious because I know I couldn't care but I do.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Her heart thumping in her ears is all she can hear. Just last night, this had been something special and intimate. It was beautiful and loving. Now a stranger thinks he take something that isn't his.
Daniel and Lando are the only ones aloud to touch her like this. Their touch sends shivers down her spine in a pleasant way. This man makes her burn. His grip keeping her pinned to the wall feels like lighter being held against the bare flesh of her hips.
She was almost to the room. Back to the safety of her boys. Just up the stairs and down the hall. Curse the elevator for not working.
She's not sure where the adrenaline comes from. Her fight or flight response is pulling from some unknown energy reserve. It's enough for her to push him off her.
He falls backwards down the stairs. He's disoriented but still conscious. He looks like he might fight his way back to her and finish what he started.
She bolts. Her legs carry her to the door of her shared room. Fists bang on the door in terror.
The door to the stairwell slams open. She leans her weight into the door and slides down. Tears stream down her face at the hopelessness she feels in this situation.
The door flings open. Daniel on the other side catches her crumbling body before it hits the ground. She pushes inside and finds the farthest corner of the room.
She sees the silhouette of the man come to face Daniel. Lando is crouched down in front of her, trying to coax some kind of explanation out of her. She's too worked up to respond.
The loud crack of Daniel's knuckles fills her ears. Her attacker stumbles backwards once more, this time he's out cold. His body falls to the ground, with a soft thud muffled only by the carpeted floors.
Lando exchanges a few words with Daniel. The ringing in her ears makes it hard to understand. It's not until Lando hands her his sweatshirt to hold and Daniel is on the phone that she registers the safety.
"He - He - I was -" She can't even get the words out. Not without realizing how pathetic she sounds.
"Okay, breathe now love, you're safe." She takes a few breathes with Lando. "Can we try some yes or no questions?"
She hesitantly shakes her head yes. Slowly, she reaches to Lando. He intertwines his fingers with hers and both of them relax.
"Did her hit you at all?"
Yes. When he first got her against the wall.
"Did he touch you anywhere intimate?" Lando looks like he's trying not to cringe.
Yes. Everywhere. It burns still.
Lando look on the verge of tears. He's always been empathetic, hurting with them. "Did he - did he rape you?"
She breaks. Burries her face in Lando's sweatshirt and wails. Lando is careful not to touch her in any harsh way; lets her lead him.
Daniel clambers onto the floor with them. She doesn't look at him, but she knows he's there and that's enough. "Love, I'm so sorry this happened to you. The authorities are on their way to take, whoever that was, away. The question now is how you want to go forward." Daniel takes a heavy breath before continuing when she doesn't respond. "We have to go to the hospital, love. I don't want you to suffer any more than you already have."
She's still crying as they bundle her up in Lando's sweatshirt and Daniel's sweats. The soft baggy ones she steals from him all the time regardless.
"Dan, what about... him?" Lando stares at the man lying on the floor. She has to will herself not to vomit at the sight of him.
"I'll meet you there, okay? The police should be here soon." Lando looks hesitant to leave without Daniel. The Aussie plants a reassuring kiss to his forehead. "Take care of our girl, yeah?"
By the time they get checked in, Daniel texts that he's on his way. She hasn't said anything else since the hotel room, but Lando kindly offers her one of his airpods. The music helps, if only a little.
The nurse takes her back to the room alone. She wails the entire time until they let Lando, now with Daniel on his heels, back with her.
She dissociates through the entire visit. Not coherent enough to answer anything but yes or no questions.
The next few days are more of them same. Only getting out of bed to sit in the shower. The water hot enough to burn away her skin.
Daniel tells Max they had an emergency but doesn't go into any details. Max lets them fly out with him. She doesn't talk to him. Too tired to use any energy on conversation.
Daniel and Lando respect her space. They ask before touching her. They announce their presences, especially if they are behind her.
The bruises fade eventually. It's not like the physical evidence was going to remain on her forever. Still, with his handprints gone for her sight, they burn her every time the area is touched.
She doesn't wear anything aside from Lando and Daniel's clothes that are too big on her. Not until they are back in Monaco for the summer break. Four months after the incident.
Daniel gently coaxes her out of the warm clothing. The boys give her space until she's ready to join them and respect her boundaries when she asks not to be touched.
Her skin still burns.
By the end of summer break, she's had time to work her way up to new things. Small bits of skin-on-skin contact and hugs are quickly becoming her new lifeline. She missed being able to not fear the touch of another. Her mind tends to forget she's safe and fights anyone who tries to get to close.
By September she's able to sleep in the same bed as them without waking up panicked that they are going to hurt her in some way. The nightmares remain, but now she clings to the two males when she wakes crying.
On a particularly charged night filled with celebrations. The three of them work through it at her pace. She sets boundaries like her therapist had told her to do. Daniel and Lando tell her everything they are going to do before they lay a finger on her.
She missed this.
She missed them.
Their hands don't burn her skin anymore.
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thezombieprostitute · 2 months
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Hummingbird - Part 2
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Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.
Word Count: ~1500
A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.
Warnings: I don't think there are any, but please let me know if I'm wrong on that!
Part 1 -- Part 3
Series Masterlist
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You look over the party invite, feeling slightly guilty for receiving so many of them without ever actually going. You tell yourself all the excuses but ultimately it all comes down to you feeling like you’re taking advantage of Mr. Rogers generosity. You were only doing what any other good person should do. Why would anyone think that deserves a reward? Sighing, you put the invitation with the stack of others. 
While you’re pondering your dinner options you hear a knock at your door. Confused, you look through the peephole and freeze. That tall, thick build and blonde hair is definitely Mr. Rogers. You crack the door open, “hello, Sir. What…what are you doing here?”
“Honestly, Hummingbird, I’m a little hurt,” he chides. His hands are on his hips and his expression is stern. “It’s been a lot of months, a lot of invites, a lot of art shows and you haven’t once taken me up on my offer. I called the curator and she said she hadn’t seen you, even during normal gallery hours.” You drop your face in shame. “Are you not actually interested in art? Is it really just one artist that gets your attention?”
“N-no, Sir-”
“Steve.”
“No, Steve, I…I just…” your brain scrambles to come up with something. Just a few minutes ago you told yourself all of the excuses you needed but with his piercing, blue eyes seemingly looking into your soul, they all feel baseless. “I…I don’t have nice enough clothes.” 
He smiles, and not in a comforting way. It reminds you of the first smile he gave you, when he knew the perfect reward. “I was wondering if it was something like that. May I come in?” 
A part of you feels like you really shouldn’t but his demeanor has you opening up the door, gesturing for him to enter. He nods at you and comes inside, carrying a black box with a white ribbon. You close the door behind him and turn to see him holding out the box to you.
“A gift from Monica’s parents. Had to guess at the measurements, so I’m under orders to make sure it fits.” You take the box and set it on your kitchen table before opening it. Inside is the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. The embroidery is stunning. You gasp as you carefully lift the dress out of the box and see that it covers the dress. It’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever held and you’re scared you’ll somehow tear it or ruin it. 
“Si–Steve,” you whisper as tears start forming in your eyes, “it’s…it’s too much. It’s too beautiful. I…I can’t-”
“Hummingbird,” he grumbles, “if you tell me you can’t accept it, I’ll have to go back to Danvers and Rambeau with the bad news that their gift was not accepted.” You wince at the thought. “Not accepting my gift is one thing, you only saved my party and my reputation. Not accepting their gift is far more insulting since it’s a thank you for rescuing their daughter.”
“I never thought of it like that,” you mumble. 
“I figured.” He steps closer to you. “Now, as I said, I am under orders to make sure that the dress does fit you. While I am here, would you please try it on and inform me if there are spots where it doesn’t fit right? I promise to stay seated here at the table.”
“Um..but, we…we don’t, I don’t know you well enough. Can you come back another day and I’ll tell you how it fits? Or I could message you about the fit?”
“Are you asking for my number, Hummingbird?” Heat rushes to your face as he confidently smirks at you. “I appreciate your hesitation but, as I said, I’m under orders from Monica’s mothers and they are not the kind of ladies you want to disobey. I will stay just outside your apartment door, lock it behind me if you want, but I need you to try that dress on now.”
You nod and gesture to your apartment door. As he starts walking he notices the small pile of invites he’s sent you these past few months. 
“You didn’t throw them away?”
“No, of course not. They’re a nice reminder of that night.” He nods his head but doesn’t say anything, closing the door behind him. 
You lock the deadbolt and take the dress to your room. In truth you’re terrified of accidentally ripping the dress but you’re incredibly excited to try on the beautiful piece of clothing. As you strip your casual wear you hope you can do the dress justice. 
With the utmost care you put on the dress. The sleeve is a little confusing at first but the more of the dress that settles the easier it is to navigate. You’re amazed at how perfectly it fits. He said they had to guess your measurements. Well, whoever made the guess has a very good eye. You look at yourself in the mirror and gasp at the pretty woman looking back at you. The dress is a perfect fit and you’ve never felt more beautiful. With a confidence you’ve never felt before, you go back to the apartment door to let Steve know. 
The door opens and Steve greets you with a bouquet of pink and lavender roses. That burst of confidence is gone and you freeze, blinking at him.
“I see you’re ready for the party,” he beams. “We should show up a little early since I am hosting and need to double check some details. But don’t worry about those, you just have fun tonight, okay?”
“B..but the…the invite said…next month.”
“Oh that’s correct. There’s another party next month. Huh,” he mused, “the invite to this party must’ve been lost in the mail.”
“Si–Steve, that wasn’t nice to trick me.”
“It also wasn’t nice for you to snub my gift.”
“I…I didn’t, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay, Hummingbird,” he soothes. “Just this one, and if you still don’t want to attend any parties or visit the gallery, I’ll leave you be.”
“Thank you. Let me put these flowers in some water before we go?”
He gently kisses your hand, “of course.”
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Steve holds the door to the gallery open for you. You’re hoping you can just spend the evening getting lost in the art and not drawing attention to yourself. You really don’t want to embarrass Steve by upsetting his guests or ruining the party in some other way. 
The two of you are greeted by the curator who says she’s pleased to finally meet you and she hopes to see you more often. You smile weakly, thinking she’s just being nice because Steve is there. She leads you both to the hall where the party is being set up. You’re a little surprised that it’s empty of people. Giving Steve a confused look you ask, “how early are we?”
“We’re exactly on time,” he smiles gently. “I still want to thank you for your actions so I’ve rented the place for just you. Take your time, enjoy yourself. If you need something to eat or drink, just ask and I’ll get it for you. If you want to do this without me around, I’ll stay back. If you want to talk about the artwork instead of just looking at it, I’ll be happy to join you. It’s all your decision.”
“Th..the dress?”
“I wasn’t lying about that. It is a thank you gift from Monica’s mothers.”
“How’d they get my measurements so right? They barely saw me.”
Steve smirks at that, “I gave them the measurements.” You look at him in surprise and he chuckles, “I’ve got a lot of experience in sizing people up.” Whether it’s nerves catching up with you or the absurdity of the situation you actually laugh at that and find yourself relaxing a little. His eyes light up at your laugh but he doesn’t say anything. 
“Okay, Steve,” you nod. “I think I’d like to walk with you. As much as I enjoyed the last show, it probably would’ve been more fun if I had someone to share the experience with.”
Steve offers you his arm and you don’t hesitate to take it. He’s happy to let you take the lead. You spend the next few hours walking together and talking about the different artists, techniques and mediums you see. Steve is delighted to see how excited you get the more comfortable you are. You’re brimming with energy and you flit back and forth between pieces while talking. 
As exciting as it all is, you do still get tired after a while. Every time you try to stifle a yawn you swear you see Steve’s eyes twinkle at you in amusement. Soon it’s impossible to even try.
“What do you say we get you home, Hummingbird?”
“But there’s so much more to see!”
“You’re barely awake,” he chuckles. “Let’s get you home. You can see more at the next party.”
“Next party?”
“If, of course, you’re still interested. If not, that latest invite will be the last you receive, I promise.”
“Noooo,” you whimper tiredly. “I’ve had so much fun. Haven’t had this much fun in such a long time.”
“Me too, Hummingbird,” he murmurs. “Me, too.”
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Part 1 -- Part 3
Series Masterlist
Tags:
@alicedopey
@aryhyuuga
@cynic-spirit
@ktficworld
@rebekahdawkins
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pebblethestone · 2 months
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One Wrong Action ⁵
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Vox x Reader /Alastor's sibling
Summary - having Dinner with Vox old memories come up how will the night end?
Masterlist
One Wrong Action Masterlist
Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6.
Words - 1330
Warrings - swearing, cannibalism, blood, cigarettes and mentions of blood and cannibalism
A/n - back with another chapter, have been quite busy lately but I have othe oneshots am working on now as well and anther story for Alastor. Vox a little out of character??
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Keeping an eye on the food you were cutting on the chopping board, making loud chopped sounds from your kitchen, you had decided that you needed a little break from the hotel today, and it was the night when you stupidly agreed to have that dinner with Vox.
Glaring over the time on the old clock. You turn on the stove and start cooking some stake well let's just say it's stake, your ears perking up and hearing someone knock on your door. Forming a shadow to look after the food you're cooking so you can open the door.
Walking over to the door you see Vox standing there with a bottle of wine. As he smiles a little nervous.
“I sure hope I came on time,” he says his smirk returning to his TV.
“I would say, but you're a bit early. And I haven't finished the food yet, you know where the table is,” you say heading back into the kitchen. looking at the food, seeing that it's almost done cooking.
“This place hasn't changed at all, but you did get rid of that TV I got you” you hear from behind you Turning your head to the side slightly.
“Hmm, I saw no point in having it at all” you say, you did use it but broke it because you got angry at it because it wasn't working, but you tried to fix it let's just say it went up in flames.
He still stands at the doorway way watching you you as you do your cooking. What a weirdo.
--flashback--
Cutting up food as you pick it up putting it into a pot, as you hum to the jazz music playing from your radio as you carry on copping some more food as you feel claws on your side and someone leaning on you, Turning your head a little
“Hi there Mr,” you say a smile forming on your face as he hugs you from behind.
“Hay there handsome/Beautiful, how about a little dance?” he says, letting go of the knife in your hand as he pulls you out into the opening of the big kitchen, moving around gently to the slow music playing.
Letting out a laugh as he twirls you around and then you do the same for you as he lets out a small chuckle pulling you closer to him
“If Alastor saw this I don't think he would appreciate that you're dancing with his sibling mm,” you say a lazy smile on your face.
“Well, he's busy doing something isn't he?” he says to you as you shrug your shoulders. As you both move around slowly round in circles
“I think he'll probably come over tomorrow, maybe we should tell him we're together, he is your friend after all,” you say as you lean your head on his shoulder giving him a small peak at his screen.
“I don't want him to murder me, he's very protective of you” you hear him say a little worried letting your head up to look at you.
“Hmm, yeah you're right, we can wait another time then hon,” you say the both of you slowing to the music ends.
After the both of you had dinner you both went to your room falling asleep as he cuddled you
Let's just say you had to come up with a plan to get him out of the house when Alastor was there and he came out the window and cracked his screen.
--back to the present--
Your grip on the knife tightens at the memory as Vox still leans on the doorway of the kitchen your eyes landing on the pan with the stakes seeing if it is ready and it is.
Turing around to open a cupboard seeing that it was already open, Vox already there holding the plates, to hand them over to you.
“Thank you,” you say taking the plates from his hands putting them onto the counter and putting the food onto it neatly so it would look nice.
“how about you bring the wine glasses back to the table and I'll take the food?” you say watching as he opens and closes the cupboards to find the wine glasses.
“sounds great,” he says as his TV screen lights up brighter once he finds them he walks ahead of you to the table placing the glasses down and you place the plates of food down. As you're about to move your chair Vox has already moved the chair for you to sit on.
“For you” he says, taking a seat and moving it towards the table watching Vox going over to the other side and getting into his chair. He takes the bottle of red wine into his hands and he pours you a glass then himself.
“thank you Vox,” you say softly taking the wine glass and holding it in your hand as you take a sip of it your eyes widen, it was always so difficult to find this wine.
“Where did you get this, I've been looking all over for it,” you say leaning forward as you eye him.
“Well that's a secret, I have my ways,” he says a smirk displayed on his face as you let out a huff. As you both eat. (let's say he can eat food for the sake of this story)
“Well, I'll just have to dig them out of you at some point I guess,” you say challenging him.
“Well, how else would I keep you around, if I can't give you your favourite wine?” he says as you let out a laugh.
“I'll find out where to get it soon enough, now how was the food” you say his plate was empty and the wine you both were drinking was also not empty your eyes travel from his suit to bus face his suit looking a bit more relaxed then what he normally wears.
--
The both of you had drank a bit of alcohol well let's say a lot you were a little tippy your mind all over the place.
“Well Y/n, it's getting late and you're a little bit drunk” you hear from beside you, wait how much did you drink again? Moving your eyes to look at Vox, guessing he didn't drink as much as you had.
“Huh? What time is it?” you say your eyes droopy as you feel tired.
“I think it might just be your bedtime” Be says as he stands in front of you helping you up, slapping his hands off you as he tries to help you get up.
“no touching,” you say as a warning to him, watching him back off but keeping close in case you decide to fall.
“Well, you've got to get to bed one way or another Doll, come on,” he says taking your wrist and taking you to your room, once you had got in you somehow tried over something, falling on top of Vox as your eyes widened. Both are in a weird pose.
“shit!” you say as you scramble off, in a rush you face Turing a little red as Vox buffers.
“Vox?” you say, still glitching out as you shake him a little. The alcohol is still in your system.
“What?!” He says snapping out of it as he stands up and dusts himself off. You flop down onto your bed face first.
“Well, you look cosy, don't you? What about me?” Vox says but you are already falling asleep as he sighs watching you sleep he moves you into the bed properly pulling the covers over you. He takes a brand new phone out and puts it down on your bedside unit. As he leaves he takes one last look at you before Turning the lights off.
---
“It's time to rise and shine!” you hear a voice say as you let out a groan as light hits you in the face, seeing Alastor.
---
Part 5
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yandere-wishes · 9 months
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He's Just Ken
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Summary: You're just Barbie, perfect on the outside, dead on the inside. He's just Ken, neither perfect on the outside nor on the inside. 
Author's note: I condone neither patriarchy nor matriarchy. But I do love exploring different forms of mental exhaustion and extreme emotional dependency.
Warnings: Mental abuse, dark mental headspace, mentions of suicide and self-harm (only if you read between the lines), yandere behavior, yandere Ken, 
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Not every Barbie has a Ken. Not one for herself anyway. Every Barbie knows a Ken, but that Ken most likely belongs to her friend, or her neighbor, or one of the other Barbies. Not every Barbie has a Ken, but every Barbie knows a Ken. You know one too, one with sandy hair and ocean eyes. And a look that longs for something more. You know a Ken who keeps his heart from breaking by crossing his fingers and praying to the Malibu sun. You know a Ken who's only happy if a certain Barbie looks his way. Or rather you knew. This was before the world fell apart. This was before he destroyed it. 
Ken returned without Barbie and the universe began to crack. It's fine you thought. It's fine you hoped. Ken -That Ken, the one who waited on the beach for hours on end until his Barbie walked by- returned from the real world preaching sermons on how the Kens were better, superior, the rightful rulers of Barbieland. How they didn't need the Barbies, how they no longer needed to settle for being treated as anything less than perfect. How they needn't be number two any longer. Ken returned without Barbie and the universe wept. 
You've always known the real world was a messed up place. It had become evident when the thoughts started to creep in. That was years ago-albeit you'll admit you have no idea if Barbie years and human years aligned- years since you started to feel like a constant failure. Years since that harrowing voice began screeching endless dreadful thoughts into your cranium. Notions that festered your mind and heart, tiny maggots that chewed away at your soul. There was always something wrong and it was somehow always your fault. Then came the pain. Horizontal pangs that shot across your arm. Always in the same spot, always in a cluster of three. Barbies don't feel pain as intensely as humans, at least they're not supposed to. 
 You worried for your human back then. You truly did. But you were always too scared to leave Barbieland. Never brave enough to go find her. She's fine you hope...you doubt it though. 
You also refused to go see Weird Barbie. Too scared of being labeled as anything less than perfect. So long as these thoughts merely remained inside you and no outward defects began to show, you would be fine. You could just pretend like everything was as perfect as it always had been. 
Ken came back from the real world unscratched. Yet his words hit a chord within every other Ken. They began to take over. The Barbies were reduced to accessories. Pretty little things that clung to their lovers. Dressed in short skirts and maid outfits. Turned into what they weren't. 
Ken destroyed what once was perfect. Yet all you could think as you watch the pillars of your homeland cripple and your friends descend into madness. Was how utterly beautiful he was.
The world turned upside down. 
Barbieland fell.
Kendome rose. 
And yet as everything the Barbies had worked all so hard to build came crumbling down. As your friends and neighbors began to lose themselves and submit to a tyrannical patriarchy. You found yourself utterly unaltered. Your world had been destroyed long ago. This was just another calamity that you would fake your way through. It would be easy, a lifetime of practice finally paying off. Stay quiet, stay in the shadows, no one would notice.
No one was supposed to notice...
Ken found you on the beach one night. A day or two after the hostile Ken takeover. He walked up behind you out of breath as if he'd been running. 
The bonfire crackles, a warning, and a love song. Until now you'd only ever existed in his sideview. An afterthought as he impaled his heart and called it love. You had burned yourself in his rays and called it love. You're convinced neither of you knows what love truly is. The moon's rays dance as you two sit side by side. In the distance, you see Blue Mermaid Barbie and Mermaid Ken share a tender kiss. An unparalleled sight. 
Ken sits next to you. Eyes following your every move. Scanning every dip and curve of your plastic corpse. He's just Ken you remind yourself with an uneasy breath. He's just Ken, nothing to fear. Although you're not entirely sure if those old ideologies shine through. He's Ken but somehow he's become unstable at worst, flammable at best. Something radioactive ticks inside of him waiting to detonate. Waiting to make the world feel a trace of his pain. 
Ken's fingers intertwine with yours as waves of helplessness crash across your body. You were created to be ethereal yet all you see is perfection molded in the shape of Ken's face. He leans in, carelessly placing his chin in the subspace of your neck as he whispers. "I see the way you look at me" his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. You flinch, in time with the breaking of the waves. "I know you want me" Reality blurs when Ken touches you. He pulls you between his legs as his lips kiss the back of your neck. His fingers run up and down your arm as if he's trying to memorize your shape, your soul, you. It's romantic you think but all you feel is puka shell shards stabbing your flesh. You know he's dreamed of this intimacy with the other Barbie. 
you wonder if in his eyes you are merely a ghost. One he resurrected with desperate love and a broken heart. You wonder if he sees her, feels her, wants her. Yet he'll settle for you. The next best thing. The other stereotypical Barbie. Somewhere along the line, your own voice sounds, foreign to you. He's talking, his voice is smooth like silk. Fragile like window glass after a bombing. He asks you something, something you've dreamed of for all so long. He asks you to be his bride wife. You agree despite how degrading it sounds. 
What once was a pink haven of fun and joy has now been turned into a mess of horses and black sunglasses. Barbie's dreamhouse is now Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House. You feel like an intruder, like a traitor. You feel loved, wanted, needed. Someone once told you that truths can co-exist. It's all you can think to save yourself from going mad. 
There's an unspoken easiness that comes with being with Ken. The way he's always around. His hands never leave you, tracing stars on your arms, running through your hair. He wants his presence to be felt. 
"I like this" you confess one night as you rest your head on his arm. "I've always felt...less than perfect. Like I couldn't be good at anything like the other Barbies." Ken laughs and it feels like the stars have cladded you in their warmth. He pinches your nose with a soft smile. "I know the feeling," he mutters and you feel your heart crack. "But you don't have to worry about that. I'm here and so long as you're with me. We're both going to be perfect." You snuggle into his chest as you close your eyes. "Ken and Barbie" you sing, a mantra, a prayer. One for a better future. One for a happy life. 
You have a dream house. Had one at least. You sometimes wonder which Ken lives there now. You wonder if his Barbie feels your presence radiating off the walls and the floor and the heart-shaped night lamp you once treasured. You certainly feel Stereotypical Barbie's presence echoing from every corner. You see her ghost whenever Ken pulls you onto his lap to watch a horse flick. Infuriated and distressed. You wonder if she's angry because you didn't join the rebellion. You wonder if she's angry because she thinks you took Ken away. You see her ghost again, feel her between the pause of two breaths. She glitches and fades as you hide your face in Ken's mink coat. 
"I don't like being apart from you" Ken claims as he lays your body on top of his. One hand dangling off the couch the other curling your loose locks. To Ken a touch away feels like being galaxies apart. You kiss his chin and his cheek and his nose and finally his lips. It feels like a dream. One you refuse to wake up from. 
Ken is gold.
Unmetable and solid.A kaleidoscope of hope
He has so much potential rotting inside of him.
Ken is gold.
Beautiful and everlasting.
His value lies in how pretty he is. How good of an accessory he's willing to be. 
You wonder if he's sick of being gold. 
You felt Barbie's ghost again today. This time looming and aggravated. She wants her presence acknowledged. She has something she needs to say. Ken was out, one of the rare times you two spend apart. Something about a beach off and rock paper scissors. 
You wonder if a ghost haunting is their way of showing love. 
You wonder if the Kens starting a rebellion is their way of showing love. 
Barbie talks for ten minutes straight. You cling to every word, you forgot how much you missed the Other Barbie's voice. It's in the final beat of her sentence that you notice she's not a ghost. Not this time. This is Barbie, the girl who had been your friend since the day you left your box. "Help me" she pleads as she grabs your shoulders. "We need to fix this", you turn your head and smile a broken smile. "I can't" you confess. 
It's easy to undo brainwashing. Even easier to reinstate it. What Stereotypical Barbie and her friends can undo. You can simply redo. Even Barbies prefer ease, a few simple half-truths sung into the right ear at the right time. And the once normalized Barbies are running back to their Kens. You turn, in the rays of the golden sun, you see Barbie. Her eyes hold glimmers of unshed tears. She wears her betrayal on her pink sleeve. "Why" she whispers as her fingers reach out to hover over your heart before she retracts them. You think you may have burned her. You think she's afraid of being plagued by your depravity.
You feel like a traitor, like a monster. A creature made of pink lipgloss and shattered vows. should Kendom fall, you know your delicate dream life will fall with it. You stare into her eyes. And the words that leave your mouth feel so rehearsed, yet you swear it's the first time you've uttered them. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you both when you went through hell. I'm sorry I wasn't there when the world collapsed and you ran from the debris. I'm sorry I can't help you pick up the pieces and rebuild what once was yours.., ours. I'm sorry I'm so selfish". 
Immortal hearts are cursed with the loneliest beats. Maybe that's why the other Barbies never bothered to ponder their endless existence. Maybe that's why the Kens always clung to false promises of love. Maybe saying I love you is the same as saying I'm letting you go. Stereotypical Barbie has already reached this conclusion, you know this. For a fraction of a juncture, she looks into your eyes. Trying to reason and plea and hope all in the same breath. When you say nothing more her eyes shine with grief as she turns on her heels and runs for the hilled house. You reach out to her, yet only grasp the warm Malibu breeze. 
What do you call a person such as yourself? 
Coward...
That sounds about right. 
Ken kisses your neck, and it feels like lava sprinkling along your skin. You feel like a defeated soldier drowning in a sea of guilt. Survivor's guilt a voice echo inside your head familiar yet all so distant. A ghost from a past life or a current one unseeable to you. "I have it too" the voice replies. You wonder if it's the voice of an angel or a mortal girl. You don't tell him about the Barbie resistance or how easily they can reverse the brainwashing. You work best alone anyway. 
You hear the word death replay in the background as Ken bites a sensitive spot. A faint noise, a haunting whisper. You hear the word death and it sounds more familiar than the name Barbie that has rolled off your tongue every day since birth. 
Ken harbors you inside the once was dreamhouse like a forbidden secret. Sometimes the skirts feel too short. Sometimes the world feels too heavy. You always feel the eyes of the other Kens on you. You think Ken planned it that way to show the Ken world who you belong to. Just last week he took you to the beach. Both of you wearing matching pastel blues and silver earrings. Other Ken was there also adorned in pastel blue and silver earrings. You see the twitch in your Ken's jaw, the icy glare when Other Ken waves to you. "Let's go," he says, commandes really. He throws you over his shoulder and you're heading back the way you came. "I really wanted to see Mermaid Barbie..." You pout. "No no, you wanted to see a movie remember?" Ken corrects you, to be honest, he does that often. You're starting to doubt you even know your own wants anymore. 
Today Ken has you dressed in a pink and white dress. You remember Setrotypical Barbie use to love this dress. You run around the kitchen cooking a pretend dinner. You really want to go shipping, to pick out something you'd like. A rose pink Lolita skirt and a matching button-up. You really want to die. Although that's normal you always want to go shopping. You always want to die. You wonder if Ken will ever let you pick out your own dresses. You leave his plate in front of him as you loop your arms around his neck. You rest your chin on his head as he pulls you closer. Not picking your own clothes is a small price to pay for the intimacy you've craved for far too long. 
"Never has there ever been a girl as pretty" Ken whispers as he relishes in your presence. 
"Do you have any idea what you are?" He rasps, his lips hovering over yours. You're both sitting on the bed, watching the sun die for the day. 
Ken is a monster. At least that's what you're supposed to think. You have something in your mind something that squirmes around in what can only be described as reason. To call it wits and a conscious would be an overstatement. Lucide is a better word. Weak and brittle yet somehow still standing. Deep inside, your heart refuses to call Ken anything other than hero, savior, salvation. 
"I'm yours" it's the first truth that's left your mouth in a long long time. You cup his cheeks and kiss him with all the doom and gratitude that lies within you. And Wow Ken tastes like mint ice cream and shooting stars. Like dead dreams that lay on the tip of your tongue. He's the beach at night and the evermore gardens during the day. He's everything good and confusing and painful and sweet. Ken nibbles your ear, playfully, and coos sweet words into your soul. Spinning tales of how you'll be together forever. You soak in his presence, rolling his name around in your head. You keep your head filled with him before your own thoughts give you a heart attack. 
You're Barbie but now you are so much more than that. You're his Barbie. Ken's Barbie. Damaged yet simultaneously perfect. And he's perfect too, mesmerizing when the sun's rouge rays kiss his pretty face, bathing him in golden ichor.
You wonder if perfection and imperfection have always been in love. 
 Sometimes in the dead of night, you think of the little girl playing with you. Albit she isn't a little girl anymore, is she? Kids grow up. clawing and biting through the painful transformation. Sometimes it leaves their minds fragmented. Sometimes it leaves them less than whole. 
Judging by how long it's been, your little girl is grown up by now. You close your eyes and give Ken a final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You hope she's okay, even though you know that can never be true. Being "okay" doesn't seem to be a real thing in this universe. 
Because girls are broken and the universe knows this 
Because boys are broken and the universe knows this 
Because the universe does nothing. Just sits there and watches as life bends and breaks itself over and over again
Barbieland is broken too, imperfect and destroyed.
And so are the two of you. 
Yet in the end, it doesn't matter. 
For as broken as the world is the most important of things has been resolved. 
Ken has his Barbie.
And Barbie has her Ken. 
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stromy-weather · 3 months
Text
Love yourself ~♡
Warnings. No y/n mentioned ( dazai nickname for women bella/ belladonna) , female body mentioned. Oral.(female receiving). Frist time writing smut and by someone who never had sex before so might in incarnate to irl sex. :3 body shaming on user part. Bondage.
You're all beautiful no matter what ♡
In honor of being a single mf for valentines this year again~♡
NSFW below the cut.
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Dazai was a loving boyfriend well when he wanted. He always was like a hard puzzle, but one thing this man loved you in every shape and form, chubby? He doesn't give a hell. Have stretch marks. Hello? More places he can kisse and worship your skin and know about more places than anyone can. Cold hands? More cuddles and closeness for him. Every time you tried to say something was "wrong" with your body, he always had something to say. In general, dazai was a love sick fool for you. ♡
"God...why... I just...ew." You mumbled to yourself as you started into the mirror. Fully body small mirror. Picking on the spots you hated or had more skin than your liking. Not knowing your beloved boyfriend was home as listening from the crack in the bedroom door. His hair covered his eyes as he listened. How come you didn't see it from his eyes? You were so lovely. Your smile made his days better. The way you look at him makes his breath catch in his throat no matter how much he looks at you. He was a sucker for it all and someone who loved him from all his flaws and wrongs? Wasn't it only right before I made it back in tenfold? He waited a bit more to hear every single word until he and enough pushing the door open with a smile that did reach his eyes. "My bella~ I'm home early~ or should I skip now, tell me what you were just saying to yourself. And don't lie to me, bella~ " he sweetly spoke, his voice holding a different note as he backed you into a conner in the room. "You're going to repeat every single word, and I tell you otherwise."
This is how you ended up back first onto the shared bed. Arms tied up behind you back, completely naked. He used the wraps from his arms to keep your hands in place behind your back and strong lean hands keeping your legs apart as he went to town on your sweet little cunt. Long licks, short. Some to you pearl as he looked up at you. He was smirking like the cocky bastard he was as he pulled away again. He been denying you of a sweet release he knew how to make your words stubble to make him stop as well. "Oh, come on, bella? Is that the loudest you can be? You're much louder than this. Come on, let me hear you didn't have no shame saying those words before" legs and places you said you didn't like were covered in small love bites and kisses before.
"Your not cumming till I make you stupid. Forgetting those words you said, my sweet belladonna~ and just mabye i let you cum."
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Proof read- nu uh.
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cosmicanakin · 2 months
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Hii! I saw that you were receiving requests, so I was wondering if you could write something with Clay beresford. So you know he’s like very reserved and serious, so everyone thought that Clay would be a very cold and distant boyfriend, but when the reader and him start dating, everyone’s speeches to see how sweet and loving he is. Just some fluffy scenarios. Thank you!! It’s okay if you don’t want to write it:)
proving them wrong.
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pairing. clay beresford x female reader.
outline. though known to be cold and reserved, when clay starts dating you, everyone is surprised to see the loving and affectionate man that he actually is.
contains. fluff, established relationships, mild social judging, marriage, and mentions of pregnancy.
authors note. thank you sm for the req anon muah <3
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after months of shy glances and nervously exchanged smiles from across the room at various work functions, you finally worked up the courage to give clay beresford your number. to your surprise, he called within the hour to ask you to dinner that weekend.
your friends were shocked at your news, warning you of clay's reputation for being cold. "don't get your hopes up y/n, we all know clay isn't one for emotions or commitment. just be careful, okay?" while their concern was sweet, you got the sense there was more to clay beneath surface assumptions.
the dinner went wonderfully, clay being the perfect gentleman pulled out your chair and listened intently to you speak. any awkward silences didn't feel uncomfortable but companionable. by the night's end as he walked you to your door, you felt a fluttering start taking root in your heart seeing his normally serious expression soften into a gentle smile solely for you.
more dates followed, each only increasing your connection and affection for one another. to everyone's surprise, clay proved a caring boyfriend always attentive to your needs, happiness and comfort. grand romantic gestures were replaced by tender looks and leisurely strolls enjoying each other's company without need for flashy displays.
the warmth in his eyes and tender caresses meant more than any elaborate showmanship ever could. for the first time you felt truly seen and cherished for who you are within rather than superficial assessments judging without bothering to peel back concealing layers guarding his heart. through patience and understanding clay eventually lowered all defenses with you alone.
slowly your friend's bigotry started cracking as well, catching how gentle yet strong arms encircled your form at gatherings without desire for bravado. simple intimate moments when clay would kiss your temple in passing melted cynicism into understanding why this reserved man captured your soul so wholly.
his wealth and inheritance mattered little to the devotion within warming your life to brilliance. words flowed freely, laughter liberating what stress accumulated through days apart soothing away in tranquility of each other's sanctuarying presence. in your arms clay discovered solace calming all turbulence of doubts plaguing mind when alone.
so it continued through months turning to seasons, love blossoming ever more vibrantly where commitment tended roots nourished by understanding alone waters true affections blossoms requiring only sunlight of smiles warmed by souls mirroring each other's radiance. misunderstandings faded beneath blossoms thriving where care sustains dreams nurturing lifelong partnerships amid life's changes.
two years finding bliss together passed in companionship's tranquil stroll, contentment's sighs breathing life afresh during stolen moments sheltering hearts entwined from turbulence beyond your calm port. talking late into nights after family dinners, fingers interlaced, remnants of days worries evaporated under tender caresses and kisses sweeter than any nectar reviving your soul to clay's humming rhythm.
his protective yet liberated spirit known fully by your heart alone rejuvenated purpose anew each dawn waking limned in his softened gaze sharing pillow talking until obligations reluctantly summoned you both from comfort's embrace. forever imprinted upon your soul remains memory of proposal kneeling upon sand caressed by ocean's susurrus, waves lapping celebration of love's permanence within clay's watery eyes reflecting your radiant smile mirroring joy illumining his normally guarded visage.
a summer wedding follows amid friends and family fully supportive now of your perfect union, witnessing love transcending surface levels carved deeply as roots anchoring two souls as one. traveling the world strengthening already unbreakable bond, learning of clay anew through wanderings unveiling pieces you fit to his mosaic glimpse by glimpse, deepening cherishing beyond any limit imaginable before love found your separate halves.
three fulfilling years later, you're cradling your newborn daughter within your arms as clay gazes upon you both with such emotion flooding watery eyes, your heart has never felt fuller nor purpose clearer than raising this miracle of pure love cementing forever your fate intertwined.
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