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klttn · 3 days

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hii i hope i don’t make too many rq’s (i asked for secretary reader pt. 2 and the recent adam one) but yes alastor x reader!! maybe smthn with painplay and primal stuff if ur comfy writing that?

-🩰

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒 ｡⋆୨୧˚

— 𝜗𝜚 alastor x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : alastor discovers just how raw and animalistic you really like it. nsfw. smut. pain play. primal kink. pred/prey. alastor fucks you in his demon form. deer!reader. size difference.

“you look adorable like this, darling.” alastors voice sounded throughout your hotel room, ears timid and facing down, backed up against a wall, legs weak and trembling, lips parted as you panted heavily, eyes doe like and wide. “so scared and pathetic, so cute.”

“a-al, are you gonna h-hurt me?” your voice barely above a whisper, stuttering from all the nerves. and arousal.

alastor sighed, dragging his claws up your sides and watching intently as your body tried to press into it, a glint of amusement in his eyes. so frightened but her cunt was begging for it. “now now, i believe the question should be, do you want me to hurt you, little fawn?”

your cheeks flushed instinctively, teeth now having a vice grip on your bottom lip, alastor could tell by the look in your eyes that that is exactly what you wanted. the claws running up your sides found theirselves to your hips, pinning them and forcing them further into the wall, a soft yelp leaving your lips as he rose his eyebrows, his actions forcing an answer out of you. “please.”

alastor cooed, he got off on seeing you like this, he was glad only he got to see you like this. the only man that could ever hurt you, fuck you, touch you. the thought of anyone else doing that made him down right murderous.

his claws idly dug harder into the flesh of your hips at the thought of anothers hands on you, drawing a small whimper from you, your hips rolling forward. “so eager,” he mused. “you really do like it when i hurt you, don’t you? when i scare you and have you feeling like my prey?” your head nodded frantically, fear and excitement evident in your eyes. “you are my prey.”

your eyes widened at his words, you needed him so badly, needed him everywhere. loving how much he towered over you, leaving you cowering beneath him. that gave alastor an idea.

alastor hummed to himself, moving one hand and placing his index finger under your chin, hooking and bringing your face closer to his. inches away. “how would my darling girl feel getting taken by her big scary boyfriend in his demon form?” his pupils turning into dials and head tilting as he spoke to reiterate his words. “imagine how pathetic you would turn.”

you felt your pussy flutter and heart throb, mind racing with thoughts of him abusing your body like that. so raw and unfiltered.

alastors voice pulled you from your fantasy. “i’m going to need you to use your words, my doe, or my touch is gone.”

“yes,” you breathed, “please, alastor, i want you, i need you, just take me, please.” an arrogant glint took over his eyes.

“good girl,” alastor grinned.

alastors form grew wide, green accents in the form of crosses spawning on his face, long black whips protruding from his back, his tongue now darting out his mouth, thick, long and dripping with spit, eager to be on you. he looked hungry. like you were a full course meal and he hadn’t eaten in in weeks.

a small squeak left your lips as you felt the blackness wrap around you tightly, lifting you and placing you roughly on the large bed in the centre of the room. him wasting no time in spreading you out for him, loving the way you writhed at his touch. “it’s so adorable when you fight back.” alastor mocked in his static like voice.

the more you struggled, the harsher the grip he had on you became, “i don’t know why you persist on going against this,. just look at you little doe, so weak and dainty, i’ll break you if im not too careful,” he keened, “but you don’t want that do you? you want me to wreck this pretty little body of yours, ruin it so no other will have you like i do.”

a soft mewl escaped you, skin flushing pink, pussy dripping, eagerly awaiting more. “can’t help it!”

“no?” alastor chuckled. “such a dirty girl. can’t fight the pathetic urge to submit your cute cunt to me, need to be hurt and towered over, just to get off.” alastors hands moved to free your tits from their confines. “only i get to treat you like this.” he breathed in deeply. “you are my prey, little doe.”

your eyes rolled back. in the midst of alastors possessive ramble, his fingers traced their way to your core, ripping all the fabric in their wake, leaving you on show for him. the harshness of his form above you making you feel so small. you felt two clawed digits press their way inside your aching pussy. a moan of relief and pleasure coursing through your body.

it was primal. everything alastor was feeling. he just wanted to hurt you, be mean to you and treasure you like the adorable fawn you are.

just as fast as his fingers were in, they came out, slick coating them, glistening and dripping down his hand. alastoes tongue flicked out to lap up the mess you made, bliss covering his face as he did so. it was sinful. the sight of him causing you to whine and buck your hips in protest. the pleasure taken away just as easily as it was given.

“patience, darling girl.” alastors voice stern, not liking your disobedience, leaving a bruising hand print on your thigh as a warning. that only got you off more. “promise me you won’t scream too loud when i split you open.”

your head tilted as his hands found your hips again, this time taking over your entire torso with their size. the dynamic comparable to a cat with a mouse. your cunt fluttered at him, begging for him to just use you. so he did.

he used the whips of his powers to lift and spread your legs above your head and with a rough slam of his hips, he was in and bottomed out with one singular thrust, pelvis flush against the backs of your thighs, balls resting on your ass.

the adorable yelp that left your lips was like music to his ears, seeing your eyes squeeze tightly and your thighs instinctively close over your chest, knees bent and tip toes resting on alastors chest. “h-hurts,” you stutter, unable to do much else.

“i know, darling, i know.” alastor feigned sympathy, “but you can take it can’t you?” you shook your head, mumbling about it being too much. “this is what you need, this is what you want, it’s not too much unless i say it’s too much.”

alastor pulled out until just the tip was in, holding for merely a second before slamming back down again, tightness of your pussy, squeezing such lewd groans out of him. “i think you can do better than that, need to stretch you out a little more don’t we?” your mind was elsewhere unable to focus with being so full. “don’t we?” he asked again, quick thrust pulling a response from you.

“yes!” you whimpered.

alastor tutted and thrust his hips once more, “not good enough, darling.” another bruising grip being left to your hips.

the action had you keening, “more, please, more, stretch me out n use me please, just please i can’t take it anymore!”

bingo. that’s exactly what alastor wanted to hear. he loved it when you begged. almost as much as he loved it when you squealed such pretty noises when he fucked you. just like you were about to be doing.

his hips started thrusting but this time there was no stopping, loud smacking noises resonating with the sounds of your slick dripping down your thighs.

alastor became animalistic now he was fucking you. all cares for anything but feeling your cunt had gone. he didn’t care about anything but feasting on his prey and that’s what he was going to do. “fuck,” alastor cursed. the hold he had on you was deadly, you couldn’t move or squirm and the long whips wrapped around you dug into your skin like rope, soft flesh pudging over them, red marks already starting to be seen in their wake as they shifted.

“hurts so good,” you cried, beginning to pant, chest heaving and and back arching as best it could in your restraints. “more more more.”

one of alastors hands came up to cover your mouth, more like your entire face with how big he was compared to you. the other now roughly massaging the flesh of your tits. “my prey doesn’t talk back to me.” he muttered, “no matter how pretty the words coming out of her are.” of course he loved the cute whines of desperation you made but right now all he wanted was to feel you, feel himself abusing your insides.

it wasn’t long before you felt your climax building, rushing through you and taking over. it was hard not to when you were getting everything you wanted. the size difference and animalistic nature of it all driving you, spurring you closer and closer. you tried to warn alastor but to no avail. you couldn’t move or verbally warn him, the only sign he got was your cum rushing over his cock and spilling out of you.

“ah, ah, ah. did i say you could cum?” you shook your head underneath his hands. “silly deer.” his pace never stopping. “guess i’m going to have to keep this up for twice as long to teach you a lesson.” it was almost a chuckle with how it came out. “i’m not hearing any complaints, but then again, you’re that helpless right now that you can’t do anything but listen to me can you little doe?.” he was so condescending with his words. you loved it.

alastors grip over your mouth shifted, releasing the cute noises from your lips that drove him insane. he moved them to stroke your hair, then running over to your soft fluffy ears, a scared flinch making you shiver underneath him. that scared look he loved so much. “so adorable, if it was up to me, this is how you’d be permanently.”

a choked sob fell from your lips in the midst of your whines. you looked so pretty right now. his doe, filled to the brim, tied up in his whips, crying for him, mewling and moaning for him, fully submitting to every word he said. oh how he loved this. how he loved you.

he came down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the softest thing he’d done tonight, before whispering into your ear, “remember, you asked for this.”

A/N : this is the most unhinged thing i have ever written… i hope you like it!!

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xoxochb · 18 hours

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i saw you asking for requests and i thought i would give a kinda basic one but like idk i have a feeling it will turn out good (im really bad with requests)

but like jason grace x child of aphrodite reader with false god by taylor swift maybe the lyrics "And you can't talk to me when I'm like this daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you" but honestly any part of the song you see fit!!

all my love, amanda 🎀

˗ˋ even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love ˊ˗

warnings: arguing, kissing, this might be cringe? also takes place at chb because I can’t write the setting at camp jupiter to save my life

pairing: jason grace x daughter of aphrodite

summary: read to find out 😋

A/N: this song 😫

“he’s my friend, that’s it! do you know what a friend is?” you asked angrily

you had been arguing about th”is for a half an hour now.

you had been talking to one of your male friends at the campfire, just catching up, but jason took it the wrong way when he caught you laughing at one of his jokes, hitting his arm playfully

“I know what a friend is, which is why I’m saying that he doesn’t want to be just your friend” jason replied

“oh my gods, you are so-” you cut yourself off, trailing your hands down your face as a way to calm yourself down

“so what? say it” he demanded

“relentless. you won’t let this go, why can’t you trust that we’re just friends” you say with a a calm tone, but your anger takes over, “leave”

a strong look of worry makes its way to his face, “what? what do mean?”

“leave, go away” you shoot him a glare, crossing your arms

“this is my cabin” you sigh at his words

“well I’m done” you mutter

“done with-” realization washes over him, “no- please, we can talk”

“we are talking, and you don’t trust me, it’s too late at night to deal with this” snapped

“I do trust you, I trust you more than anyone, I’m just worried. you’re a daughter of aphrodite, you’re gorgeous, everyone wants to be with you, I can’t help but feel you’ll leave me for someone better” he confessed

you think for a moment. maybe you had been to harsh… you begin to think that maybe this argument wouldn’t have started if you had asked him for further detail.

the more you think about his words, the worse it makes you feel

guilt.

that’s what you feel

extremely guilty that you yelled at him for being scare you would leave him, it wasn’t fair

“jase- listen, I’m sorry, I would never leave you, ever. you’re the one I want, not some other stupid boys, just you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how you felt, I feel awful” you grab his hands and cup them in yours, looking up at him with a begging-look, hoping he understands your words, “but I really hope you trust me when I say I don’t want anyone else in this universe but you”

“but what if-” you cut him off with a finger to his lips

“no, there is no what-ifs, I only want you, idiot” you sigh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, and he pulls you in closer by your waist

you let your hands travel up to the back of his neck, pushing him closer to you, and he lets out a content sigh as you do so, and you know you’ve got him to understand

“I don’t want anybody to take you away from me” he says in between breathless kisses

“no one’s going to”

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #pjo spoilers #percy series #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #jason grace imagines #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x you #xoxochb

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lawva-girl · 2 days

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“Sunny Days” Zoro x reader

No mention of gender!!! (Besides zoro)

Warnings: Fluff, beer?, yearning written by someone who doesn't Actually write.....

No one asked for this.... im just a freak about one piece :D

<~~~~~~~>

You walked out of the kitchen on the sunny, a drink in each hand. When you were in there, using your most charming voice, you asked Sanji for a beer and your typical fruit cup. It worked partially because Sanji knew the beer was for Zoro and also your funny attempt to seduce him. Pretty much everyone on the sunny had a crush on Zoro.

After the door swung shut, you continued your way over too the mast. You saw Zoro there in the shade and walked a little bit faster.

“Hey! Moss head, I got you something!” You approached him with a huge smile, setting the beer next to him and promptly sitting aside him.

He opened his eye, glanced down, then took the beer and immediately started drinking. “Thanks.”

You stared out at the sky, overly aware of your actions, before glancing over to him and replying a hushed “no problem”.

“It’s so hot today, I don’t know how anyone is working… Franky said he’s making me a training robot.” He huffed out a laugh from his chest, “the dummy looks like Sanji.”

“At least you’ll be able to go all out? Just don’t let Sanji find out!” You laughed a little harder than Zoro had, mainly at the thought of Sanji and Zoros typical fighting.

Zoro took a drawn out chug of his beer, you started working at your fruit salad. Both of you looked out to the sky, and a sudden breeze blew by.

"I'm really happy I'm a pirate on days like these. Just sitting and relaxing... marines are too uptight to do this." You kept eating, forcing the words to jumble a bit.

Zoro thankfully understood your sentiment, "we could sleep right here right now. Thats one of the main reasons I joined Luffy."

"Really?" "No," he had a slightly devil like smile, "he told me I was already on his crew, he held my swords hostage." "Liar, You have some secret reason you are scared of admitting." You huffed, returning to your fruit after a momentary pause.

"Whatever, I'm gonna take a nap in the sun." He finished the last of his beer, and quickly walked to the railing of the sunny.

You watched as he sat down, resting his head and back against the wooden railing. You knew it was in no way comfortable for him, so you stood. You were intending to offer him a pillow or something you could grab from inside.

"Hey that doesn't seem very comfortable." Zoro opened his eye and simply grunted at you.

"I can grab you something? If you want." You felt like you were twiddling your thumbs.

"Sure."

You returned to Zoro just staring at the sky. He had waited for you.

"here lean forward," Zoro obliged and you slid the cushion behind his head, "okay how does that feel?" "Good."

It was like talking to a wall.

"Okay... do you mind if I join you?"

Zoro looked at you, then jolted his head, motioning for you to join.

It wasn't the most abnormal thing, most of the crew cuddled at random times. That was just the nature of being on the sunny. Everyone held affection for each other. You told yourself this as you joined Zoros side on the deck. You laid your head on his legs, curling up into a 'c' shape next to him.

Not expecting him to feel, due to his pants, you started tracing shapes into his leg. You traced stars, thinking of how clear the shapes in the sky were at night. Then you did his swords, thinking about how they would glint in the sun when he trained. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt his hand in your hair. Mainly his fingertips, they were… rubbing your scalp, at least that's what it felt like. Not scratching or really focusing on your hair, but more like he wanted to feel your skull.

The two of you rested there, who knows how long. But it had been precisely 8 minutes until you fell asleep. The combination of Zoro’s hand on your head, the breeze, the sunny rocking, and the sound of waves crashing against the sunny lulled you into a nap. Most likely the best nap you had had since you joined the strawhats.

When you awoke, Zoro was asleep. Snoring against the pillow you had brought and placed for him. You readjusted yourself so that you were flat on your back, still resting on his thigh. You looked up at him. Feeling a sense of calm rush over you, you lifted his hand and placed it on your face. Not really knowing why, but it had brought you even more comfort. You placed a gentle kiss onto his warm, rough palms, and fell asleep again. This time it took only 3 minutes. You couldn’t help it, you felt so warm with the sun and Zoro next to you.

The next time you woke, there was no peace. Ussop and Nami were gossiping, Zoro and Sanji fighting (with you and Zoro still in the same position as before), Luffy and Franky were drinking milk, and you could only imagine what the rest of Luffy’s beloved crew was doing.

#me when i yearn to be loved by a family #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro/reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronora zoro x reader #fluff #i just really wish i had someone to lay on in the sun #also i tried my best with zoro's character #i feel in my soul hes a silly guy #unless he wants to nap #ALERT runon sentences

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supernaturalscribe67 · 2 days

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Unwarranted

Words: 4,983

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?

Request:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.

May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.

Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.

When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.

Anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.

The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically.

Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil.

True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible.

(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.

Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.

The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered.

Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie.

With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case.

Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home.

*~*

(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them.

Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.

Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually.

After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet.

Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.

“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him.

While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.

Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.

(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.

“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.

“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint.

Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.

A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.

The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars.

The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.

“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.

“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.

The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own.

Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”

“Why?”

“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”

(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”

(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.

This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.

(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.

Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.

“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”

“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”

“You’re not sure?”

“My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”

“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”

As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided.

He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.

Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”

When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?

Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.

“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.

With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?

After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.

“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.

Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”

*~*

One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.

That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).

“You’re not coming?” He asked.

(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”

“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”

(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.

“The touching.”

The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly.

“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”

They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.

“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.

“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”

“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.

“But they get upset-”

“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”

“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.

Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.

(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.

“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.

It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.

And that validation broke him.

(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.

Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.

After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.

(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.

“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”

“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”

“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”

The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation.

“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.

Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”

Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.

“Are those actors?”

“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.

(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled.

“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.

“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”

“Indiana…as in the state?”

“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.

Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”

Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;

His worth was priceless.

…

“Hey, are you even listening?”

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sturn3g1rl · 2 days

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Ms.Opia and her Melancholy man

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Opia, is the intense feeling of invasive arousal that one feels when engaging in mutual gaze, with another.

Melancholy, the feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

INTRODUCING…..

Y/N HUXLEY

“i wanna fuck your love slow, catch my heart go swim. feel your lips crush. hold you here, my loveliest friend.” crush, by cigarettes after sex.

MATTHEW STURNIOLO

“you can have anyone you want, why would you wanna be with me. you know i’m nothing special.”- jealous by eyedress.

NICOLAS ZAMORA

“Baby, he’s got to be crazy. livin’ like he’s john wayne. always facing the world, or chasing the boy.”- john wayne by cigarettes after sex.

CHRISTOPHER BELL

“Baby, im a wildflower. I live on sheer willpower. i’ll do my best to never turn into something that burns.” wildflower wildfire, by lana del rey.

NATHAN DOE

“Lady, running down to the riptide. Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your left-hand man.”-riptide by Vance joy.

MADISON FILIPOWICZ

“here she comes, watch out boy she’ll chew you up! she’s a man eater.” Man eater by Darell hall & John oates.

CAYLEE GREENE face; Alana lintao

“ I've got so much honey, the bees envy me. I've got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees. Well, I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way? My girl!” my girl by the temptations.

CALLUM MANDRA face; Hugh laughton scott

“You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry. Fuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy.” Alphabet boy, Melanie Martinez.

more characters loading…….//

disclaimers; there is going to be violence, blood, no smut cus i can’t write that shit for the life of me 😬, flashback scenes, alcohol, smoking, powers, jealousy, cuss words, just bad kid shit in general, and definitely more.

still working on my masterlist but i’ll lyk when it’s done!

like this, comment or lmk if u wanna be on the tag list.

IVE DEAD ASS BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR THE WHOLE YEAR. this is rushed towards the end because i just wanna get this over with and post it.

MOST OF THE CREDIT AND INSPIRATION GOES TO RICK RIORDAN AND @muwapsturniolo GO SHOW HER SOME LOVE GUYS!!!

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #chrissturnioloxreader #nick sturniolo x reader

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evangelineshifts · 1 day

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advice for people who are in the law of assumption community for years yet can't even manifest a happy day? i feel like yall are lying for likes and attention and reblogs

I can try to give you advice but I can almost guarantee you aren't going to like it 😭

the law of assumption is so heavily based on the inner workings of self. that means working on mindset and your belief in how manifesting works for YOU. so as much as I hate to say it, work on your mindset. you thinking that your manifestations aren't here is like the exact opposite of how the law works. persist in the assumption that you have what you want. not persist for a second then check the 3D, live in the 4D. THATS whats real. and then when you finally accept the 4D as true, not caring abt the 3D it will have no choice but to reflect. 3D reflects self, if you yourself don't believe it's working then obviously it's not. I do not give a FUCK about likes or reblogs i can assure you of that and you can tell by how often I go MIA on any given platform like im doing ts for ME bitch. If i write some shit about my experience that is for ME, if people have similar experiences and share them I like geekin with them about it. that's it that's all. the mindset that EVERYONE that posts about LOA and shifting are coming to do it for likes and attention is such a selfish mindset (that I am guilty of formerly having). When people manifest it changes virtually nothing for anyone else but them. half of the people who share success stories are sending them in anonymously to their fav loa blogs and then dipping. they get no likes and no real attention from that cause no one knows who tf they are. work on you and the universe will work FOR you.

#evangelineshifts ˖⋆࿐໋₊#angel messages 🪽✨#anon 🍓#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifting #desired reality #law of assumption #manifestation #loassblog #loassumption #loass post #law of manifestation #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #edward art

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oceanwithouthermoon · 3 months

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ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them

#sorry i read like two cute in character kubokai fics and im enjoying it now #theyre cute and im a closeted shun kinnie so. obviously i will ship him with my crush from the show.#i just really really REALLY hate the super cliche seme uke dynamic people usually give them #those people have NEVER watched the show.. my boy shun is NOT like that #its sooo stereotypical and they obviously give shun the role of 'the girl' in the relationship which is. um. ew #'shun is so fragile and innocent and uwu and he needs big strong aren around at all times to coddle him'#'and aren has a soft spot for shun and shun only and only shun can stop him from being totally murderous and dumb'#do yall know that one scene from the kissing booth #where elle is like 'NOAH! LOOK AT ME! THIS ISNT YOU! LOOK AT ME' when hes about to beat the shit outta his brother #thats how kubokai gets written usually #'aren pwease nevew fight again🥺pwease? fow me?'#me reading anything kaido says in most fics: HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT #sorry #people can write whatever they want its just. so ooc.#canon them is soooo bromance core #im sorry idk why im posting negative shit again when i like JUST said i wasnt going to do this anymore LMAO #not a callout post about anyone on here obvi- actually reading more recent fics from people on here is whats gotten me more into them #saiki k #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#kuboyasu aren #kaido shun #kubokai #meows post

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halfbit · 12 days

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some brief advice for characters with small scars from a head injury (from my specific experience) since i do see people give these types of scars to characters sometimes

mine is like this for reference:

specific info:

i didn't receive in-hospital treatment for it even though i lost consciousness i was kicked by a horse, the metal horseshoe is what did it it was a long time ago (over a decade now)

it doesn't effect me much day to day, it is always visible but it has become less prominent over time. certain expressions (anything eyebrow raising especially) make it very obvious.

it is physically raised and lacks pigment.

sensation wise, it used to itch but i haven't felt that for awhile now. if i pay attention when touching it, there's a slight difference in temperature from the rest of my skin. if i scrape it (even just lightly, like scratching with a fingernail) it feels like its bleeding even when its not.

if i accidentally hit it (i dont like doorways), it is extremely painful, it burns, my vision flashes white and i see stars, and it feels like its bleeding all over again of course. it feels like the irl equivalent of being stunned by an electric arrow. if your character has a scar like this, having them get hit on it in a fight is a good way to make them go down for a bit. the sensation also lingers for a decent amount of time afterwards, depending on how hard the hit was. the lingering feels like a heavy pulsing/throbbing, similar to a strong headache but localized on the scar. personally, it feels like even minor impacts can have a really strong effect still as long as its a pretty direct hit.

so yeah just my personal experience having a scar like this! i like seeing characters with similar scars but it often feels like it was just a cosmetic choice to show that they're tough. it's not something that is super high-impact for me, but it still has its effects, and when you aggravate them you can't really focus on anything else until it goes away.

#writing advice #writeblr #dont really know what to tag this with ngl #i've been meaning to briefly ramble about it for awhile tho #its not like its a big thing but its just something i think about now and then #i imagine its similar for vertical scars? but ofc anyone with different scars is welcome to chime in lol #lowkey this is just an excuse for me to rant about how much it fucking hurts when i accidentally hit it tho #like come on why'd you have to do that <- me to myself #usually on doorways because i am so good at moving through gaps #also yeah i wrote this instead of the story im supposed to be writing #king of procrastination #god i need to do that now tho #i just want to see some tough guy have to bowl over and curse because he accidentally got hit on one of his old scars

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ganondoodle · 9 months

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i often really do feel like an .. unwanted part of the fandom, i dont draw beautiful landscapes, i have unpopular but strong opinions im constantly annoying about and rarely change, dont like/dont draw the pretty young popular twinks and hot gurls to fanboi over nor do i turn characters into one, the opposite moreso, draw only one ship no ones heard of really, got little energy to interact with the few people that are nice to me and send me asks so it probably looks like im ignoring everyone and unfortunately but still rarely get so stressed i get overwhelmed and emotional about pehaps seemingly minor things and spiral almost into a breakdown feeling super embarrassed about it afterwards but the damage is already done and i look like a freak or agressive weirdo

#ganondoodles talks #also probably sounds like self pity #but this feeling hits everytime i see a super popular artist be the popular cool artist #i am a little weird i know that and thats not somethign bad i think #but the internet never gets to see that much of me #i tend to write posts when i am at my worst bc it has to go somewhere #so the image it tells people is that im a weirdly strong opiniod freak that gets breakdowns over nothing #i also dont feel like im otherwise -cool tm- enough to balance that out #i dont think my art is as stylized or as inventive as others nor am i cool to interact with bc idk how to be cool to interact with #i feel double bad when i misstepped with someone i used to talk to bc of something stupid ... or just dont know what i did wrong #im guessing its especially when i am in that spiraling state of mind where i really am not myself tbh #it still feels very bad bc i feel like i can never make it up to anyone again #sorry i acted like a jerk my brain was exploding in emotions in a desperate attempt to deal with something idk how to deal with-#-and made me not act like myself but now i feel really dumb about it #doesnt sound like a good excuse #... i want to thank those that do stick with me #even if i acted strange sometimes- even if i disappointed sometimes- even when i couldnt keep a promise #there are little things that still make me angry at myself #like that one time i asked in the tags whod read as long as the end of them and if someone did shoudl send me an ask so id draw a lil thing #and i got two #and i kept trying to remeber oh shit i need to do that and forgetting again/not having energy for it in a loop #i still feel like a jerk about it but now its probably too late #i wish i could answer all asks i get but man my energy for that is always rock bottom #no matter how much i enjoy the ask #and i love getting asks!!!#im sorry :((

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idolomantises · 1 year

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there's something so comforting about artists you admire talking about their own struggles and insecurities

#txt #was watching supereyepatchwolf's video on chainsaw man again and listening to fujimoto express regret about things he didnt learn #and how he's clearly envious of his peers is so... comforting?#i think about my own strengths and flaws and often times i get so frustrated with my shortcomings #im not good at drawing feet; my backgrounds are purposefully simplistic and lack a lot of detail; sometimes my designs have a tendency to #overlap or feel very 'safe' in terms of what i really want to do #its why; despite my love for clowning on media and animated works. i never want to feel like its from a place of malice #the joy of art is always seeing those little mistakes and nuances. its also noticing the achievements other creators have made that you #still lack #even for a certain hell-based show i love to poke fun at for its many. many issues. its undeniable how incredibly passionate the work is.#and i do respect anyone who is willing to get their flawed media out there (myself included)#i see stuff about people calling me their inspo or how flattered they are when i compliment their work and its like. gee. i hold myself at #such a high bar and even still im always surprise when people tell me how much my work moved and changed them #i really love writing just little fun things that i just dont really see anyone else touching and its kind of fun how despite my own #personal grievances with my own flaws and mistakes #people really do find things that they love within them.#anyways I know this is getting long but I’ve just been getting sentimental abt the creation of art #sometimes people make fun of me for love of drawing women and lesbians and bugs and so on #and while I will never let me deter me from my process. sometimes it does get to me #but then I remember that I love doing this and could ever see myself holding back #and knowing despite how other people feel. I have so many followers who resonate with my weird ass shit #that it’s all worth it. ya know?

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finnpeach · 3 months

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Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!”

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow.

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring.

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries. “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark.

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames.

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately.

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.”

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back.

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”

#hey I didn't proof read this im just posting blind #I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM #I can't wait to make him snz more #anyway lets hope no vanillas find this bc I will shoot myself in the fucking face <3 #if you're a vanilla KEEP SCROLLING NOTHHING TO SEE HERE!!! OKAY!!!!M #you know im serious ab keeping it in this community when I put goddamn slashes in the names lmfao #normally I don't care #but I do not want anyone finding this and making me feel weirtd #weird*#anyway #ENJOY! this will probably be a 2 parter #2.5 if you include the fight scene #but mmm yeah lemme know what y'all think if there's anything you wanna see #THE MATCHA FIC IS COMING I PROMISE! I WONT LET THOSE BOYS DIE!#hey guys did you notice how I actually write out the curse words and don't write vulgar gesture every 2 paragraphs nor do I write the word #marked #WHY DOES SHE DO THAT #she ought to take notes #oh and a/elin has the fet. obviously. what else would she have

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oozeandgoo-art · 5 months

Text

had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.

#i might adapt this into an actual story because i am SO SO SO mad that it isn't a thing i can go back to reading #oc #im definitely keeping the concept of save-bot i fucking love save-bot he's just doing his best. i love a robot who wants to help people #im not equipped to be writing about underground rebellions with any sense of real tact though #besides its in a superhero universe/story so you know it would just be so sucks lol #sketch #god the colors were so interesting. the teal parts were all very precisely crosshatched and the fire was this gorgeous brush pen looking #colored inks that just seemed like they were MOVING #and i mean some of that was because i was dreaming but god even in my halfhearted copy you can see some of the movement #it was a bad scene but a really really REALLY fun dream. i love when a book can *get* to me so i was really enjoying it #put it aside so i could take a break and woke up. instant fury at the universe for not having it be a real book instead #ill reblog with details if anyone's curious. i can explain this scene but i dont feel like it #the green people are in a secret basement though. hiding from the government. blue jacket guy is a speedster robot named save-bot who does #rescue stuff with every fire department so fire suppression technology is not very good because save-bot "can just save you''#however they're badly over their legal occupancy and the secret basement has One (1) exit so everyone is like really fucked here.#includinig save-bot who is going to do his job until he dies because he is an ai without any sense of self preservation and he cares #which i didn't even CATCH until i woke up and started tryin to frantically note everything down #and then i was like wait. the glitter on that last page before i realized i needed a glass of water to keep reading... what WAS that...#(it was tears suspended in midair because save-bot goes so fast and also knows he's so fucked LOL)#seriously i'm so mad someone else didn't make this.

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orcelito · 6 months

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Wild that anytime I post an update a lot of people read it and are even excited about it and have their own thoughts and reactions to it that I'll never know.

Comments are only the very tip of the iceberg with it. And I am Very grateful to commenters for letting me in on it. But in the same way that I'll be excited with my friends when a fic we love updates, it's likely that Other people enthuse with Their friends when my fic updates. And it's just so strange. An experience I'll never have access to.

Everyone's relationship with my fic is unique. So many different people with so many different circumstances and preferences... and the number of people that have told me that my fic is one of their favorites, some even saying it's their Favorite favorite... every single one of them have their own relationship with my writing.

It's just interesting to me. I think and think and think on my writing. I have my plans for basically the entire fic, the way I want it to end already thought out, all the major plot beats and the relationship progressions, All of that thought out. I love my writing so very much, but I'm on the inside looking out. This is my mechanical horse, and I'm in here laying out the groundwork and pulling levers and constructing limbs, puttering away making the horse move. Forever and always, my relationship with it will be more intimate than anyone's, and yet more clinical. Because I know it better than the back of my own hand, but I'll never have the experience of reading it fresh. Of reading it without knowing everything that's going to happen from now to the end and beyond. I won't have the thrill of the plot twists I have planned, the delight at seeing things progress, the horror at seeing things go wrong...

This is my mechanical horse, and I'm making it move.

I just always wonder what it must be like to see it from the outside. I hope to others that it's a pretty horse.

#speculation nation #itnl shit #didnt mean to write this much about the concept but i really am so...#jealous almost. id love to be able to read my fic as a reader.#because it's tailor made to my tastes Exactly.#and i know it's good writing. i surprise myself even sometimes with how good things end up.#it's never a doubt in my mind that i'll make things good. even the harder things . while bringing trepitation . i know i'll figure them out.#the relationship a fic writer has with their own fic is so... yeah. intimate. but still somehow emotionally removed.#but thats how it goes with any art piece i think #the creator sees all the bits and pieces that went into it. remembers the thoughts as they made it #they know their work better than Anyone Else. but they'll never be able to experience it like an outsider.#is my fic helping someone through a rough breakup? is it something someone rereads when theyre sad?#is it a fic that people stay up way too late reading? the fic that someone discovers and consumes all within a day?#that voracious love. ive experienced it many times with other fics. but i can never experience it with my own.#but in the end. that's okay. i will just continue to do as i wish with it. and maybe people will continue to like it.#it is my goal to make a fic that people will never forget. what that may mean differs depending on the person.#i want it to be the best fic it can be. and i will make it so with every brick i lay down.#puttering about for days and weeks and months. it's Most of what i think about. it's my impact on the world.#and it's sitting for 3 hours after work in the storage room writing until im shivering but Satisfied with a productive writing session #it's writing some of my most emotional scenes while sitting for an hour on the toilet #no one else knows what the toilet written scenes are. but I Do. such is my relationship with my fic.#(the focus in the Quiet Rooms cannot be underestimated. the bathroom is indeed one of the Quiet Rooms lol)#& man. ive rambled so much now. but i just love my fic so very much #i'll never be an ITNL reader. and that's okay. because i'm its writer. & that's a status that No One Else can boast.#even those people who state that it's their Favorite favorite cant rival the intimacy of my own relationship with it.#I Am Its Writer and that means so very much to me.#i... really do love my fic y'all

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waterfallofspace · 1 year

Note

53 and 55 for d/azai and ch/uuya (the sick one 👁👁) perhaps please if you would like… <3

Thank you so much for the ask/request!! These have been so fun hahaha~~ I did get just a touch angsty/fever heavy towards the end, so hopefully that's alright, I promise it's not super serious! I also did want to include a little french, and while I did take it in school, I remember less than nothing, soooo this is all thanks to google, therefore I apologize for anything inconsistent/incorrect! [ Putain de merde = Holy shit ] [ À tes souhaits = Bless you ] [ Merde = Shit ] [ Je dois = I've got to ] 2.1k words, prompts 53 and 55, story under the cut! ~Part Two/Continuation Post Here~ 53. "Bless you?" 55. "You sound awful." (References to mild violence, high fevers, and swearing just in case anyone doesn't like any of those!)

~~~~~~~

Dazai is nothing if not observant. There is hardly a single detail in any given encounter he hasn’t seen, or predicted. Which is why he finds it almost insulting that people always insist on ‘hiding things’ from him. Especially his former partner.

‘Chuuya still seems to believe, incorrectly and against all odds, that I won’t notice if somethings wrong. Something such as the cough he was suppressing that was shaking his frail little form. Or the pink tint around his nose. The nose he couldn’t stop touching throughout our encounter.’

This is how Dazai came to be leaning against a wall outside a pharmacy. And if it just so happens to be the pharmacy a certain hat-adorned Mafioso frequents, wouldn’t that be a strange coincidence. ‘Any minute now, don’t keep me waiting- Ah. Here we go~.’

Chuuya steps out of the store, a gloved hand pinching his rapidly trembling nose. ‘He must have been trying not to sneeze the whole time he was in the store. Aw~! That’s just adorable. It’s practically famous within the Port Mafia that our dear Chibi can’t hold back to save his little, tiny, life. Well, time to announce myself!’ Dazai smirks, pushing off the wall and stepping into Chuuya’s line of sight.

“Chuuuuuya~! What a surprise, running into you here!”

“heH’EK- fuck!”

“Uh, bless you?”

“Damn it you idiot, you scared it away.”

Dazai lets his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to break through at the look of annoyance on Chuuya’s face, nose practically twitching with unreleased tickles. He snapped his hand away from his face the second he saw Dazai, but they both know he’s just itching to bring it back up, pun intended. ‘Oh this will be even more fun then I’d foreseen.’

“S- scared away the sneeze..? Is even Chuuya’s nose easily startled?”

“Eh?! I- You- oh whatever. What the fuck ar- hahEHhh… hePT-!huhh… Damn it- What are you doing here, Dazai?”

It’s practically a growl, and Dazai doesn’t miss the way Chuuya’s hand twitches as he presses it firmly into a fist against his side. ‘You wanna rub so badly, don’t you? I wonder how long you’ll be able to hold out. Judging by that glaze coating your eyes, I’d say not long, but hey, I out of anyone know how stubborn you can be. Shall we test your resolve, Chuuya~?’

“I was just passing through this part of town, and happened to notice the sky starting to look a tad cloudy, so I figured I’d duck under a nice dry roof! Just so happens to be of a pharmacy- say, what is Chuuya doing in a pharmacy anyways?”

“Nothing.”

“Wow, you bought a bag just for nothing? Seems a bit of a waste.”

Chuuya’s eyes roll, teeth clenching as he snarls, both of them knowing that any other time, he would have aimed a punch at Dazai for that. 'And we both know why you didn't. Little preoccupied there, Chuuya?' Dazai studies him carefully, noticing the way his mouth is starting to twitch right along with his nose, the itch seemingly spreading across his whole face.

“I bought some pain medication, alright? I get hurt a lot in this job, and I was running low.”

“Doesn’t the Port Mafia supply the good stuff? Why settle for cheap store bought?”

“I- I jus- Why do you even care! Doesn’t the ‘great Dazai’ have better things to do?”

“Awe~ You think I’m great? Chuuya~ you flatter me!”

Chuuya opens his mouth to retort, but what falls out instead of a cough that he quickly attempts to suppress, ducking into his hand and spinning on his heel, away from Dazai. ‘It’s a futile effort, I can still clearly see your body shaking. I think you know that.’

“Oh Chuuya, are you not feeling well?”

“Sh- huHh-! Really? Of all the times to come bahhHh- back… hePT’NNSHH’oo-! hAh’IZZSHHAA-! heHh… AhHH-! ahH’YZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Shut up, bandage factory. J- just leave me alone, I have things to do.”

Dazai notices the roughness of Chuuya’s voice as he lowers it, adding a growl in an attempt to make it seem intentional. ‘You must be feeling worse than I thought, a couple sneezes and a cough shouldn’t be enough to wreck your throat. Unless, of course, you’ve been doing it non-stop for days.’

“Well my schedule is completely clear, so I think I’ll just hang out with Chuuya for awhile! Where are we going next?”

“There is absolutely not a ‘we’. I am going back to my apartment. Alone.”

“Aw- come on, don’t be like that!”

“Ge- hehHh… get lost… hH’KZZZSHH’iuh-! Fucking… Ehh’knGSHH’aa-!”

“Double blessings for the double sneeze! Keep up the doubles and you’ll start sounding like me.”

“A fate worse than death, truly.”

Dazai clutches his chest, an arm draping across his face in mock hurt, making sure to keep one eye trained on the shorter man. ‘He’s practically trembling. It’s chilly out, but not enough for that reaction, especially not for someone like him. It’s most likely a fever, but it could just be exhaustion. I’ll need an excuse to get in close to check.’

“You wound me!”

“I’d certainly like to. hah’gNNShh’aa-! hh’ETZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Quite a threat, if only you could back it up. Alas, I fear this illness has reduced you to the level of a mere goon. Certainly not an executive in the elite Port Mafia.”

The words work exactly how he’d planned, a closed fist hitting Dazai squarely in the chest as the shorter man lunges at him, giving Dazai every opportunity to let his hand brush against Chuuya’s forehead. ‘He’s burning up. With the clouds gathering faster than I’d foreseen, I’d better get him off the street and fast, otherwise we’re looking at an outcome I’d rather avoid.’ A grunt breaks free from Dazai’s throat as Chuuya finishes the attack with a kick right to his gut.

“That feel like a sick man’s blow? Didn’t think so. D- damn it… hAhhHh-!”

Dazai pauses, leaning back against the wall to watch the show unfold. Chuuya has a gloved hand gripping his nose once more, eyes starting to gloss over as they lose focus. His hand is trembling, eyes starting to water. ‘Tsk tsk. We both know you can’t hold this back, are you really going to break your nose in an attempt to? Sorry, I just can’t have that.’

“Even Akutagawa can punch harder than that, Chuuya.”

“Eh?!”

Chuuya’s eyes snap to him, his hand wavers, and just like that, Dazai knows he’s won. The loss in focus, even for a second, is enough to give Chuuya’s nose the upper hand, its twitching visible from between the cracks in his fingers. ‘Checkmate.’

“ih’KNXT’chh-!”

Dazai bites back a wince at the way the stifle seems to scrape at Chuuya’s throat, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth as his breath catches once more. ‘Bad idea, Chuuya. You know that’s just gonna make you-’

“eH’KnGT’chhh-! inGT’chh-! GNT’chh-! heHh… dTnxxgt’chhh-! hH’KNgT’choo-! hEH’INGSHH’AA-!”

‘And there it is.’

“You gon-”

“AAISHHH’OO-! ATSHH’AA-! hH’INGSHH’AA-! heh’ASSHH’iuh-!”

“-gonna live, Chuuya?”

“hNGGSHH’OO-! Shut- nnMMGSHHH’AA-! Shut up- hH’INMSHHH’IUH-! S- slug… heAhh-!”

A deep chest soaked cough starts pouring out between the sneezes, rattling Chuuya to his bones, and sending chills down Dazai’s back. He nearly flinches as Chuuya falls against the wall, using it to study him as the wet coughs shake through his lungs. He manages to catch his breath, tears freely flowing down his cheeks, just to have it sucked out of him again as another round of sneezing starts up.

“hEH’NNGSHH’AA-! eh’KETSCHhh’iuh-! heP’TZZSHH’aa-! Putain de merde!”

“Doing french, are we? Well then, À tes souhaits, Chibi.”

“Whatev-”

The hoarse quality of Chuuya’s voice, barely above a whisper causes them both to pause, a wince escaping across Dazai’s features before he can mask it. Chuuya’s eyes widen, the panic in them seeming to seep into Dazai’s very soul. They stand for a minute, eyes locked, before Chuuya straightens his into a glare once more.

“You sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You should really have taken some medicine for that.”

“That.. was the plan.. before you.. interrupted me..”

Dazai can’t help but grimace at the harsh whisper, Chuuya attempting to lower his voice to a growl to make it sound intentional, but they both know no one’s buying it. ‘I really need to get him home and get him to take some medication. If he gets caught in the rain like this, it’ll be bad.’

Making sure to catch Chuuya’s eye, Dazai lets his hand slip into his pocket, pulling a dose of medication out, the kind you won’t find at any pharmacy. He smirks at the flash of desire that Chuuya doesn’t manage to hide.

“Whoops, guess that one’s my bad. In that case, this will just have to go to waste, I suppose. Since you have your own, and I was so rudely uninvited to your apartment.”

“You.. can’t be uninvited.. to something you.. weren’t invited to.. in the first place.. hH’RSHH’AA-! oww…”

They both flinch at the sneeze, Dazai letting his concentration slip for just a second. However, a second is all Chuuya needs, planting a roundhouse kick on Dazai’s arm as he snatches the vial, taking a swig before sticking it in his own pocket. Dazai raises an eyebrow at this, cheshire smile painted across his face, but a hint of something much more genuine in his eyes.

“What aggression Chuuya! You should really try some anger management classes to get that rage under control.”

“I didn’t have.. anger issues.. until I had the misfortune.. of meeting you..”

“Oh yes~. You were just a ray of sunshine when I first met you! Definitely no thinly repressed rage bubbling just below the surface that boiled over every time anything happened.”

“Oi.. are you trying.. to get punched again.. jackass..? eH’KtSHH’iuh-! Christ.. hASHHH’AA-!”

“Save your energy, you’ll need it. And besides, I’ve taken quite enough of a beating today.”

Chuuya doesn’t respond, ‘Electing to save your voice too, are you? Smart, given how quickly it’s fading’ but he does give Dazai a nasty look, raising his hand to scrub at his nose once more. Dazai feels a swell of concern in his chest at how unashamed his former partner has grown about his rapidly increasing symptoms. ‘The medicine should kick in within the hour… but I doubt you’ll make it home on your own before then.’

“huh’KKSHH’AA-! hEIYYSHHH’iuh-! nNGT’chh-! eh’INGT’chhh-! M- merde… Je d- dois… ehH’hEZZSHH’aihh-!”

A hand is casually raised as Chuuya attempts to cover, aiming for his shoulder with a hazy look that isn’t like him. ‘Damn it, I was hoping to avoid this outcome-’ Dazai manages to think, getting cut off, just as he foresaw, as Chuuya collapses into himself. A strong grasp catches the smaller man, Dazai letting out a huff at the weight suddenly in his arms.

“Easy there, still with me?”

A weak nod is his response, the glassy nature of Chuuya’s eyes suggesting the fever has grown worse. Touching his forehead, Dazai winces again at the heat, ‘Definitely gotten worse. The game is over, I’m taking you home now.’ Without a word, he lifts Chuuya into his arms, not missing the grunt he gets in response.

“You can fight me, and risk falling on your face, or you can just let me help you.”

Chuuya growls, but lets his eyes flutter shut, ducking away from Dazai and into his shoulder as another set of exhausted sneezes tears out of him.

“heh’nNKjschh’uhh-! ah’mmKNschh’uhh-! hehHhh-! hEH’IZZSHH’iuhh-! Guhh..”

“Bless you. Can you stand, or shall I carry you?”

Dazai easily dodges the fist aimed his way, but doesn’t miss the way Chuuya shakes at the force of his own weight. Without a word, he moves Chuuya’s arm back over his shoulders, letting the man lean against him. There’s a certain level of unease when someone’s relying on you to walk, and yet, with the two of them, this is an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Let’s get you home, partner. The medication will kick in soon.”

“Not.. your partn-”

“Save your voice, it’s physically painful for me to listen to you. I can feel my own throat starting to ache.”

A dirty look is shot his way before Chuuya’s eyes flutter shut once more, not even bothering to turn his head away, instead aiming the sneezes towards the ground in front of them. Dazai grimaces, not from the possibility of germs, instead, entirely from the concern that washes through him at the lack of shame.

“heH’DTZSHH’AA-! AIISHH’oo-! ehh’gnSHHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Save.. your breath.. stupid Dazai..”

“Hey, at least you still have that temper! I’d be really worried if that was gone.”

“Just.. take me home..”

Dazai lets a smile wash over his face, a warmth replacing the panic in his chest as Chuuya leans into his touch as they start the journey. ‘I’ll keep you safe, partner. Leave it to me.’

Without a word spoken between them, he knows he was heard and understood, just as he understands the response.

‘I trust you.’

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the requestttt this was so fun to write #hopefully its okay that its a bit angsty haha #i dont think its TOO bad but i was just in that mood when writing #also i might possibly do a follow up with what happens once they get there #if anyones interested!! or even just if IM interested haha #but if anyone bothers to read this and wants to see that let me know and ill do it~~#snz #snzkink #b/sd #c/huuya #d/azai #s/oukoku #they are my beloveds so id be thrilled to write more for them

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