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liveontelevision · 27 days

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Hallo!!! I’d just like to say to start I ADORE your work! Especially with Lucifer, the way you depict him is SO refreshing you have no idea.. your work practically canon in my eyes I love it!!! You’re super awesome.

I did also notice that in your Lucifer works you talked about his more ‘unappealing’ traits, so-to-speak. Like his temper, his possessiveness, and especially his paranoia and panic.

I suffer with a paranoia disorder and some ptsd of my own, and it was really nice to have those traits made known, but not have them severely criticized, y’know?

I understand and agree that Lucifer would need a patient partner when it comes to these things, someone to stick around and be reassuring through it all; And while they can get frustrated, not criticize or even leave him for it; something I theorize may have been a reason for Lilith’s own departure.

But what if the reason for the reader’s patience is because of their own panic issues? Or their own temper?

Now to be fair, not sure how i’d exactly want it to go. It could be them comforting him when he panics, or Lucifer when they panic, or just a simple heart-to-heart about their combined struggle and the resilience that is forged because of that…

Like while their breath quickens, hands clutching into their thighs as their brain practically screams at them to calm down through all the mind-numbing internal noise; boiling tears stream down their face as they shiver within the darkness of an empty corridor. Perhaps Lucifer steps around, bearing witness to their storming off, getting a glimpse of the uglier side of their lover. The strange, uncomfortable, terrified side of them. But that isn’t what he sees, not at all. His gaze softens as he stares into their tear-blinded irises and carefully sits in front of them. He sees a person. A real, true human being.

(hahaaa got a bit too silly sorry xP)

All I know is that I think Lucifer, while also being equally concerned, would appreciate having someone who could understand what he’s going through; Well, as close as a sinner could get to understanding it, at least.

But what do you think? Would he act any different? I’d love to know ^^ ❤️

Thank you so much for getting into these details! After reading this I realized how much I connected my own mental struggles to what I write. So just seeing that you're about to relate to it as well made me feel really good :)

This was honestly a little hard for me, trying to get into this mindset. Even though it's not super motivated by Lucifer's character, I kinda needed to write this for myself honestly :') but still, I hope you enjoy this!

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Comfort

CW: Descriptions of depression and panic attacks, flulff, angst

You were head of heels for Lucifer. And you’d do anything for him, that goes without saying, even if you do enjoy seeing his reaction to your devotion. You knew Lucifer as the king of Hell before anything else, so your first impression of him was obviously different from the Lucifer you know and love today. He was always portrayed in media as some suave, flirtatious, powerful being. No one dared talk negatively about him, his true authority being misinterpreted as pure malicious intent. But that didn’t stop the media from tearing Charlie apart. Why didn’t he defend his daughter then? In summary, Lucifer was known for two things; incredible power and little consideration for the actual ongoings of Hell, even with whatever his daughter was involved with. At first. His saving the hotel, defending Hell on extermination day, and encouraging his daughter, was the side of him that only a handful of trusted people could experience firsthand.

Luckily, you got to be one of those people. It’s easy to take his goofy exposure and temper and make it appear that he is an aloof king. But no one can handle being a hermit for centuries without having a different view on life. And being an outcast from his original realm? Being abandoned by his brothers? Even the most powerful demon couldn't experience that without it taking a mental toll. That was obvious. Comforting Lucifer would never be an easy task, even for someone who’s experienced exactly what he has. And who knows exactly how close Lillith was to him? Was she able to see him in this state? Was it another factor of himself that he chose to bury in fear of rejection and abandonment? It was a pitiful thought, but definitely not an impossible one.

Whether or not you truly understood Lucifer's past, you wanted to be there for him. It felt good to comfort such a powerful being, being an anchor for someone who has an absurd amount of baggage. But it’s not like you always knew what you were doing. You weren’t this perfectly healthy person who knew what to say all the time. When you first got together, you had your doubts about even having feelings for him. He was an icon, a celebrity, royalty. It was great he confided in you, but was his status clouding your judgment? Were you only enjoying the dominance you had over his emotional state because of who he was? Was your admiration misconstrued as love? It took a while for you to get over this mindset. The longer you were together, the less it became you constantly praising and fawning over him, the more it became being in love with your best friend.

You didn’t really bother to bring any of this up to him, the idea made you cringe. Would bringing up your doubts about the relationship only transfer those feelings to him as well? The moment passed, so there’s no need to get him worked up over nothing.

That’s a great example of how your mind works. You assumed that all these spiraling questions, that brought you to the brink of tears, just went away. That, because you realized how much you loved him and how much he loved you, that meant that you never needed to express these thoughts. Nothing could be done about it, those feelings were in the past. Why bring it up now?

There was also the question of how much you gave into the relationship. You gave Lucifer your all, gave him your heart and body, and yet you don’t feel comfortable enough to share your own suffering? You could've blamed Lucifer if you wanted. He should be supporting you the same way you support him. Or you could blame yourself. Obviously, if you wanted support you should feel comfortable asking for it. But why do you have to ask? Lucifer never asked for it. Why don’t you feel comfortable sharing your feelings? Your own trauma? What’s wrong with you?

That ended up being your downfall. Nothing ever just goes away. How could you constantly comfort Lucifer and push him to let out what he needs to, yet refuse to express anything that truly upset you? Demons are essentially immortal, these feelings couldn't be bottled up forever. But they can be bottled up until you break.

Lucifer had an especially rough day, he was looking forward to finding his sweetheart and venting about how shitty his meetings went and how Alastor pissed him off, along with some other daily struggles. That’s all it was; a daily vent session that helped him decompress. What he wasn’t realizing was how much that affected you. It wasn’t really his fault, or he wasn't doing it on purpose at least. You weren’t really the type to share your own struggles, you mentioned that to him once or twice. You felt that crying and letting it all out, venting about struggles that simply don’t need to be discussed, none of that really helped you when you were struggling. But today, you were struggling.

“Ugh! That tacky son of a bitch made fun of my suit today, can you believe it? Like - I mean - C’mon! We basically wear the same things but in different colors, I don’t know what he’s on about. Oh, and I had to go to the Embassy today. Luckily I didn’t need to meet with anyone but I - “ As Lucifer started his long-winded complaints, he stripped himself of his boots, hat, and jacket, then approached you. You were lying in bed, which wouldn't exactly be strange if it were early in the morning or late at night, but it was nearly dinner time. You were wearing your usual pajamas and had been scrolling through your phone for who knows how long. Did you have anything to do today? You didn’t have time to think about that.

Lucifer placed a quick kiss on your forehead, then between words, one on each cheek, then a final, slightly lingering, kiss on your lips. He finally plopped down and laid perpendicular to your lounging body, laying his head in your lap and looking into the ceiling as he went on. You set your phone aside, that had been plugged in and turned on since late last night, leaving it hot to the touch in your hand. You had become numb to it at this point.

None of this seemed to really come off as an issue to you. Who doesn't have a day or two where they can't get out of bed? You were sure you’d be ready to get back to work the next day, so it’s not a problem. Plus, Lucifer was here! You could get some quality time in with him and convince yourself that you weren't wasting a whole day. He went on and on. Talking about the Embassy got him on the topic of Heaven, which led to him sharing a story of how his brothers weren’t supportive of a specific invention he was sharing. “It was really something, you know. If I could've just been accepted by them, if they supported me.. like you do! maybe things could've been different. Maybe - “ Plop. Lucifer flinched at the sudden drop of water that hit his cheek. He wiped it away before finally discovering its source.

You were crying. It was silent, and you were holding your breath to prevent it from turning you into a heaving, sobbing, mess. Lucifer was quick to sit up, seating himself on his knees as he tried to question your disposition. He was finally noticing your overall situation. You are in the same spot that he left you in this morning, wearing the same pajamas, scrolling through the same phone that never left the nightstand. He started to feel ashamed that he didn’t notice any of this sooner. You had shifted your gaze downwards, picking at your clawed fingers like you would your skin when you were alive. This is embarrassing. You don’t want him to see you this way, you look like a mess. You tried your best to keep tears from coming from your eyes, but the fact that Lucifer was sitting near you in absolute silence somehow made it worse. You hitched your breath, trying to control your emotions in any way, then let out a shaky exhale that made your body shrink.

The moment seemed to go on forever. It felt like his eyes were burning into you. You had to do something. Anything. “I’m okay! I’m okay, Luci. Sorry, J-Just a rough day. But it's over now! We can just relax now. Promise.” You quickly said, your voice raspy due to it being the first words you had spoken today. You shifted yourself over, pulling the blanket aside and patting the spot next to you. Lucifer didn’t know how to respond. He’s seen you like this before, everyone has rough days. And why would you lie to him? You could go to him for anything. You knew that, right? He reluctantly moved into the bed, holding his arm out to allow you to snuggle into his side, finally resting your head on the center of his chest. Your eyes looked vacantly towards the other side of the room, as your finger mindlessly traced the seems on the side of his shirt. A monotonous task that kept your mind on anything other than how you were feeling. Today was just one of those days where every little problem you’d encounter was tipping you over the edge, sending you into a spiraling mess.

He knew something was wrong. He didn’t push you away, you clearly needed the contact, but the warm spot that you created from staying in bed all day was apparent when he went in to hold you. Sure, he’s seen you like this before. But this was different. “Darling..? Erm.. Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to - I should’ve.. How was your day, love? Wanna.. talk about it?” He always struggled with words. It’d take him a while, but he’d always manage to get what he intended when he spoke. “Oh, um.. It was good.. My day was good. Didn’t do much, but that’s okay. Just a relaxation day I suppose.” Ah, relaxation. You’ve used that word before. He always wondered; How come relaxation never meant going to a spa or doing something legitimately soothing? Was laying in bed all day really what you considered relaxing?

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry. Go on, you were talking about your brothers? What were you - “ Your diversion was immediately noticed. Before you could even finish your question, Lucifer had taken your chin and angled your head upward to look at him. It was a struggle for you to meet his eyes. You gulped, and no matter how much you wanted to pull away from his grasp, you didn’t. Tears were welling in your eyes the whole time, and even though your breath had calmed, you still seemed winded. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Please. Let me help.” It seemed like everything just fell into place. Lucifer finally picked up on things you never realized came from your insecurities and paranoia. And he wanted to fix it, not stop it, actually fix it. You hated how the idea of it surprised you. It shouldn't, of course, he’d do this for you.

“ I-I promise it’s nothing.. I’ve just been feeling off today, I just want to be close to you. That always helps.” You smiled up at him. No matter how forced, he returned your smile. “Well.. Do you think.. Talking would help?” You tensed up as he spoke, an obvious sensation to Lucifer since you laid suddenly uncomfortably on his chest. “Hun, you know that stuff really isn’t for me… I don’t benefit from that, I think. So don’t worry. Just - be here. For me? Can you do that?” You began to sound agitated. It wasn’t an aggressive plea, more like a plea for this conversation to be over. He wasn’t a huge fan of how you spoke, it came off as a sort of insult to him. Did you not think he could help you in the same way you did for him? He could try. He wanted to try.

He planted a small kiss on your forehead, then traced his hand up and down your back, feeling your tension melt as he did so. He pressed his cheek against the top of your head and picked up your hand in his. He traced your palm, running along the wrinkles and folds of your skin, then lightly grazed his claw up the length of each of your fingers. He sent a starfish motion across the entirety of your hand before finally interlacing your fingers. You stared at his movements the whole time, watching only for a moment before your eyes glazed over, leaving you in a sort of mindless state. He squeezed your hand after giving it attention, which brought you back to reality. Your eyes had continued to drip, leaving a few small specks of wetness on the part of his shirt that sat below your face. With the newfound grip he had on your hand, he pulled your still clasped hands up to his face, rubbing his cheek on the back of your hand before pressing gentle kisses across your knuckles. His eyes looked at you, half-lidded, with your hands still held to his lips.

Well, you weren't lying when you said being around him helped. Just the sight of him caring for you in this way, calmed your mood. You managed to accept that your actions today wernt like you. That something had taken over in your mind to keep you weighed down in your shared bed. “Thank you.” It barely came out as a whisper when you said it, bringing your clasped hands to your own lips and pressing a kiss on his own knuckles in response. “Of course, love. Anything for you. I mean it.” These actions weren't exactly new to the two of you, these were methods you occasionally used to help Lucifer fall asleep, or calm him down after a rough day. But he was using it on you. He had learned how to take care of you, by watching what you do. Noticing how you act on a daily basis and how that contrasts from the version of you he’s seeing right now. It was a subconscious transaction that you two had. But when you did notice it happening, you could hardly contain the mixed emotions you felt. Embarrassment, Pride, Love..

“ I mean it.” He repeated, snapping you from whatever state of mind you caught yourself in, “You know that, don’t you? You know I can help you, right? ” Now, this was new. He’s never questioned you like this. For some reason, it became difficult to respond. To admit that you knew he had your best interest in mind. “Tell me.” He wasn’t demanding, he seemed genuinely concerned as he spoke. Your cheeks flushed, feeling some sort of embarrassment. “Y-Yeah, I know.” You were quiet, still.

Lucifer didn’t seem completely convinced. “I’m sure you do. But can’t you just.. I want to know what goes on in your head.. If that makes sense. I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking this - No, I want you to try and talk to me. Just try?” You almost scoffed, trying to play it off as some kind of joke. “It’s not important, I’m feeling better now, that’s what’s important.”

That’s when he became agitated. He gently sat up, lifting you up with him. “No! It still matters. Tell me how you feel. Or - how you felt, I don’t know..! Talk to me. Please.” He had a tight grasp on your arms, almost shaking you as he spoke. You tried to calm down, you really did, but you felt forced into talking. Not in a negative manner, just in the way that your instinct to isolate yourself in this state was being challenged. You were physically reacting, tensing under his touch and lowering your eyes to the point he couldn't see them. You rubbed your hands against your thighs, trying to figure out what to say. It seemed like it took too long for you to respond. When you did it came out in the form of broken sobs, your hands moved from your thighs to your cheeks, running your forearm across your face to wipe tears. You broke.

You finally open up about your day. About how today, you felt like you didn't have any reason to get out of bed, how it felt okay to just rot there. You tried your best to describe what makes you this way, but you really weren't all that sure yourself. And despite how much Lucifer struggles with his own words, you were almost silent when it came to describing how you felt. He would nod his head and keep a calm composure, just like you do for him. It took everything in him to just hold you as tight as he could, to repeat I'm so sorry and it'll be okay and I love you so much. But that's not what you'd do at this moment, and he realized how much he'd hate that for himself. It’d feel disingenuous. You loved physical affections, even the slightest intimate moments were improved by a simple hand-holding, or just sitting close to Lucifer. And right now, you felt ashamed for wanting to push him away. But you didn't.

He cooed you, and pulled you in close, his arms engulfing your curled up body. He continued to rub your back, just like you’d do for him, and would ask if you needed anything multiple times, even if you politely rejected each time. Just to be safe. You let out a gross mixture of sobs and apologies, and possibly some things that you’d regret saying later, but the dam was broken at this point. After you had calmed down, he loosened his grasp to let you sit up, your body stiff from holding it in that position for so long. He was quick to create some tissues out of thin air and hand them to you, catching sight of your reddened eyes and nose, but he also made it a point to not stare at you. He’d turn his gaze to the floor, or to your hands, or he’d rest his head on top of yours. “So..? How are you doing?” He almost sounded nervous when he asked as if he might have messed up at some point. “I feel disgusting.” You said bluntly, your voice nasally due to your nose being so stuffed up. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I told you this stuff doesn't work for me, I feel awful still.” A bittersweet smile hit his face, but you were still making it a point to keep your eyes away. “I know, love. But, I’m glad you did it. I’m.. well, I’m glad you’re talking to me - I know it was hard.. So.. thank you, I suppose. You did good.” His words were choppy as if he was still figuring out what he wanted to say. He said what he needed to though.

You let out an absolutely exhausted sigh and leaned back into his chest, bringing both of you back down onto the bed. After a bit more backrubbing and hums of affection, you finally lift your head to look up at him. He was absolutely glowing. The smile on his face brought you butterflies that you didn't realize could resurface after being with someone for so long. “You did so well~” He said in a low tone, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and keeping your head turned upwards by gently holding your chin. “W-Well, don’t say it like that.. Perv..” You let your suddenly dirtied mind blurt out a nervous response. “Hey, that one’s on you. I would never proposition a damsel in distress.” He tapped your nose, speaking in a theatrical voice, before meeting your lips in a much-needed kiss. “Love you.” You muttered into his lips, only to feel his smile form in response. His eyes weld with affection for you when he pulled away. “I love you.”

Even if you felt awful after your little outburst, the reality of laying in bed all day finally hit you with a burst of adrenaline. You weren’t able to sleep after that and Lucifer had no complaints about that. The rest of the night was spent doing silly little things, Lucifer demanded you do your nightly routine, insisting it would help your mood. He provided snacks, started a movie that you mentioned you wanted to see a while ago, and sat behind you as he either brushed your hair or spent the time to give you a thorough massage.

You were so proud of him. You always struggled alone when this kind of thing happened. And, although a little awkward, he was exactly what you needed him to be at that moment.

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OMG LOOK AT MY LITTLE TAG LIST ILY GUYS:

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )

#sorry for angst #hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer morningstar #hazbin art #hazbin hotel art #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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can-of-pringles · 1 month

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Arith and Iriel both got messed up symbolic(ish) parental relationships/views of God, but in different ways.

Arith's experience was more like his parent disowning him and kicking him out of the house, leaving him homeless.

While Iriel's experience is more like that kid who has a deadbeat parent but they believe that the parent is just really busy with a certain thing/career and will come back to spend time with them eventually once it's finished, not realizing that their parent actually abandoned them.

#listening to arith's playlist made me come to this realization #sorry for angst #pringles good omens ocs #good omens oc #arith!goodomensoc #iriel!goodomensoc

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azi-muthal · 8 months

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Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.

#season 2 broke my heart #i'm sorry for the angst but i'm in painnn #ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #artists on tumblr #fanart on tumblr #richard siken #good omens season 2 #aziracrow fanart #good omens fanart

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wombywoo · 6 months

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running you with red.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #my art #I may have chosen angst today lads #and for that I am sorry

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egophiliac · 2 months

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What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 chapter 4 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 chapter 4 spoilers #stage in playful land #i hope this is legible whoops #anon i am sorry but you made the fatal mistake of asking me to talk about diasomnia #insert 'i just think they're neat' jpg #i do like the other characters a lot but they are definitely my favorites #they just hit a lot of my favorite things in characters i guess!#yes even you sebek even though you keep shrieking NINGEN at me #(it's okay he gets Character Development™ later)#and their dynamic! it's great! these guys frikking love each other SO much and they WILL have terrible terrible angst about it #ohoho delicious #give me all your emotional hangups baybeeeee #also somewhere in there i went from 'i like them all equally (but lilia is the most fun to draw)'#to 'lilia is absolutely my favorite (and still the most fun to draw) (EVEN MORE fun now thank you swishy ponytail!)'#(it was probably when his candy coating got a little scratched and whoops all the tragedy fell out)#(where's that 'get loved loser' post because i need to staple it to lilia's forehead)#i am extremely bad at putting things into words so please don't ask me to explain it any further #just know that the diafam is everything to me and if we don't get more episode 7 soon i'm going to crumble into dust and blow away #we'll be getting the crowleytimes on monday and maybe there will be. idk. some foreshadowing or something in his groovy #probably not but LOOK i'm desperate

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tennant-davids · 9 months

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GOOD OMENS 1x02 - 2x06

#good omens #goodomensedit #uservici #usereena #userkristi #userisaiah #userbbelcher #chewieblog #dailyflicks #tvedit #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #*laurengifs #5k #so sorry not sorry this started out fun but turned to angst super quick #i was going to include the kiss but that was too much even for me

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pigeonleap · 6 months

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"Someday, I'll be the greatest leader that ThunderClan's ever seen!" "Yeah, and I'll be your medicine cat!"

If only you had held on a little longer.

[repost because I forgot the whiskers on the 2nd slide and it was going to haunt me]

#warrior cats #warriors #wc #squirrelflight #leafpool #pigeonleap #a starless clan spoilers #a starless clan #asc spoilers #squirrelstar #I am not sorry #always an excuse for squilf and/or leaf angst #my baby all grown up

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verkomy · 4 months

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I promise...

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vavoom-sorted-art · 6 months

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Okay so

we're having an angst war over on @goodomensafterdark and @gleafer, @gahellhimself-blog and I are having a competition who can spread the most pain and suffering. Here's my contribution. Enjoy

don't worry, this isn't the end yet: here's part two. | Part 3

#sorry #good omens #good omens fanart #angst #hurt no comfort #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #good omens 2 #goodomens #the art war #vavoomart

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riaki · 5 months

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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

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kittykalliarts · 5 months

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For decades, the blank vision that Iudex Neuvillette wears near his heart has been subject to much discussion in Fontaine. Nobody remembers who it had once belonged to or why the ancient dragon protected it so jealously. It is said that if the Chief Justice would to stare at it for a long while, it would be sure to rain right after. Oh, how beloved that person must've been.

#genshin impact #genshin fanart #neuvillette #visions #wriolette #wriollette #neuvithesley #myart #sorry for the short drabble?#kasndkansd i have emotions over a simple thought i had #the tragedy for someone eternal to fall for someone who's here for only a brief moment eats away at me hhhh #it started with a funny thought of IF neuvillette needs to carry a fake vision for some reason after laughing at the archons for it #and then i remembered how people like kazuha would hold onto their loved one's masterless vision after they died #one thing led to another and now we have some wriolette angst with neuvillette cherishing wrio's masterless vision #after his inevitable passing #and idk if its just the traveller or if its even canon #but i like to think that neuv being a sovereign he would be able to hear the ambition of one's vision and maybe just maybe #he can use wrio's masterless vision to listen to his voice albeit ever so softly

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can-of-pringles · 10 months

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I was thinking about an older fic about Kaia and all of her problems (that I won't go into great detail here) and probably the saddest thing is that she hates all her unique traits (her eyes, her wings, etc) but she got those traits from her parents. She looks into the mirror and, in a way, sees the reflection of her parents whom she never got to know, and she hates it.

#sorry for angst #pringles good omens ocs #good omens oc #kaia!goodomensoc

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majunju · 8 months

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[right to left] hypnosis

#genshin impact #my art #sorry for the long post idk how i managed to push out 9 pages in like. 2 days im feeling a little insane atm #anyways. lynlumi [cheering] lumine angst [cheering] having to draw the concept [booing]

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stars-and-clouds · 7 months

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Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

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