#Anger vs weak

[amitshridhar]

Anger is so intelligent, it always comes against the weak!

गुस्सा भी कितना समझदार है, हमेशा कमजोर के खिलाफ ही आता है!

Gussa bhee kitana samajhadaar hai, hamesha kamajor ke khilaaph hee aata hai!

How sensible is anger, it always comes against the weak!

गुस्सा भी कितना समझदार है, हमेशा कमजोर के खिलाफ ही आता है!

Gussa bhi kitna samajhdaar hai, hamesha kamjor ke khilaf hi aata hai!

Anger vs weak!

गुस्सा बनाम कमजोर!

Gussa banam kamjor!

क्रोध बनाम कमज़ोर!

Krodh banaam kamazor!

04/01/2025, saturday 04 january 2025, 01:15 p.m, indore, madhya pradesh, india.

[nepenthendline]

the not-so-good parts about dating them

a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover

includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoriya -

Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.

Bakugo -

🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.

Todoroki -

Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.

Kaminari -

Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.

Kirishima -

(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.

Iida -

For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.

Shinsou -

Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.

Aizawa -

Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.

Hawks -

He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.

[antivancathedral]

Building off this post by @karissaeb

What an incredible catch. I've only played through the ending once so far and I think I was so busy taking everything in that I didn't notice, but wow. Spite using his own voice to tell Solas to fuck off. "You hurt Rook. You lie."

How does Spite see Solas? In lines with other characters who refer to Solas as Pride, Solas says that he prefers Wisdom. I talk a bit here about Spite vs Determination and even use Pride vs Wisdom as an example, but...we can all agree this point that Solas isn't wise, right? Clever, sure. Wise? A wise man would know when to call it quits. When yearning for the past becomes too detrimental to the future to be worth doing. When Solas calls him "Determination" and Spite corrects him, it serves several purposes.

1) Spite tells Rook that there are three kinds of people: Family, enemies, and contracts. Solas is an enemy. Friends or family are allowed to call him Determination if they feel so inclined (Rowan, Isabella) but Solas is not in this category, as Karissa mentions, and Spite wants (spitefully!) to let him know that.

2) It reminds Solas that what happens to you shapes you. The way you respond to those events shapes you. Determination? Pah. Spite is something sharper, something more vindicating, something angrier. Wisdom? Pah. Pride is manipulation towards your own goals instead of guidance. Pride is insistence in your own views with disregard to all others. Solas is changed and warped by trauma. Spite's correction is a reminder and a demand. Acknowledge what changed me, and what changed you.

And the delivery of this line! It's not sharp and abrupt, not curt like you'd expect of someone who doesn't want anything to do with this guy. "Spite," he says, and I almost felt like I could hear him smile and turn up his nose there, like he was flashing his teeth. He sounds pleased with his own identity and threatening all at once, the way Lucanis sounds when he says "The Crows send their regards."

And when Solas offers his help, that mask slips. Now those bared teeth sound gritted. Now there is an echo of something dark underneath his voice, and it's his voice.

This is the only time in the whole game that other people get to hear Spite's voice, aside from the time in Rook's mind prison and Emmrich's unique ability.

Referencing yet another of my posts, Spite speaks in slow chunks of sentences because he has to force his way to the surface of their body. He has to wrest control of Lucanis's mouth from him, and even after they reconcile and his speech improves a bit, it's clearly a struggle.

Spite is not a weak spirit, but speech through a mouth with two souls at the helm is difficult. You know how you become stronger when overcome with rage or panic? Perhaps it was easier because the Veil is thin here, with all the magic bullshit happening, but I can't help thinking it's a combination of the two. Solas has offered to rip Spite away from Lucanis, who I maintain that Spite loves, and he's hurt Spite's favorite person. Rook, who opens doors for him, who accompanied him steadfastly to Lucanis's mental inner sanctum. Rook, the only person to listen to him, to offer him a rope that would lead to his freedom. Rook, who is one of the very few people Spite can claim a relationship of any kind with.

Why should he trust Solas with Lucanis when Solas hurt Rook? When Lucanis and Spite where there when Solas sealed Rook away? When Rook vanished before their eyes? Can you imagine the thick, palpable, choking fury that would've overcome him, hearing that audacious offer?

This to me is the most blatant and tangible way Spite has shown his love throughout the game. The raw emotion in this single action is so, so potent. Fuck you, you lie. Know that all this love, and all the righteous anger that accompanies it, is mine.

[mcmactictac]

everyone talks about how katniss is like lucy gray but no one talks about the parallels between her and Snow which I think is a tragedy. Like they’re both strong willed, determined, willing to do whatever is necessary. They both have that carefully controlled facade (katniss constantly being aware of the cameras and not wanting to be seen as weak vs snow keeping up appearances, hiding his lack of money and keeping his anger in check) the difference Is katniss has that ability to love and care in a way snow doesn’t. I stand by the fact that he sees her as a reflection of himself and knows that he can’t control her because of that. She is the jabberjay he knows and loves, and the mockingbird he’s grown to hate. She is a mixture of Snow and Lucy Gray (the jabberjay and the mockingbird respectively)

If anyone resembles Lucy Gray, it’s Peeta. Lucy Gray knew how to work the cameras to her advantage, had the charm that made her so beloved. While snow and katniss are both aware of the game being played, peeta and Lucy Gray use their good nature to their advantage. They know where their weaknesses are, and they use their charm to show strength. Katniss has a physical prowess that Lucy Gray didn’t.

And that makes snows demand that katniss prove her love for peeta more interesting. Because he thinks he sees his inability to love Lucy Gray reflected in katniss. That peeta will turn away from her, that she’ll never truly connect with him. And he’s wrong because katniss doesn’t see peeta as an object to be controlled. Neither of them seek power over each other. When they were the last two in the arena, they planned to go down together instead of kill each other.

If Snow was in katniss’s position, he would have killed peeta, the same way he tried to kill Lucy Gray. He sees the berries solely as an act of rebellion against the capital. When obviously it’s more than that because katniss cares for peeta as a person and doesn’t want him to die. Katniss is a reminder of everything snow isn’t. She chooses people, whereas snow chooses power. That’s the critical difference between the two of them.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Sunshine Vs Grumpy

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

When you first met Bakugou, he always wore a grumpy expression.

You didn’t understand how someone could look so darn upset all the time. You felt a burning desire to fix that, for the sake of his pretty face.

“Bakugouuuu!” 

You called out to Bakugou in a quiet hallway, and Bakugou nearly jumped out of his skin due to your voice. Your voice alone always seemed to startle him, for whatever reason. But he still retained his grumpy expression as he turned to you.

“What?!" Bakugou snapped. "What the hell was that for?”

You pouted. “Oh you’re doing it again!” 

“Doing WHAT?”

“That! That right there! You’re frowning all the time! You’re such a grumpy pants you know that?”

“HAH?! Where the hell do you get off telling me that to my face?”

“Well I just thought you would feel so much better if you weren’t so unhappy all the time, so I wanted to point it out and cheer you up! Here, let me try.”

“WHAT ARE YOU–”

You patted his arm like a salesman would pat a fine car. Bakugou wrinkled his nose and scrutinized your gesture. 

“You don’t gotta fucking pat me to calm me down dammit! I’m not weak to your damn petting! I’m not–”

You stroked his arm. “There, there… There, there…”

“I can calm down just fine on my own,” Bakugou said, his voice slowly getting less heated. “There’s nothing wrong with my anger. Or my frowns.

You hugged his arm lightly, swinging it a little. “It’s okay! No worries, it’s gonna be alright!”

Bakugou exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. Bakugou lost most of the anger in him. His expression looked much more relaxed as he gazed at you.

“See?” you said, pointing at his face. “Isn’t this better?”

“You gonna steal my arm every time I frown?” Bakugou asked, with a leveled voice.

“Every time! As much as it takes!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “I got places to go. C’mon.”

Bakugou practically dragged you around school for the rest of the day because you wouldn't let go. He never told you to let go either. Bakugou would stand and wait for you to cling back on if you ever accidentally fell off. And true to your word, you continued to cling to him long after in the following days and weeks. The boy would not stop getting into fights and you had to be there to calm him down.

Eventually, Bakugou did calm down quite a bit, and you stopped accompanying him everywhere. Then, Bakugou started knocking on your dorm door to figure out where the hell you went.

"Why'd you leave?" Bakugou asked.

"I thought you were doing well on your own," you said. "So I assumed you wouldn't need me anymore..."

"Wouldn't need you...?"

Bakugou spelled out the words like they were foreign to him. Even now, he still didn't look angry. Just confused.

"Ya can't just dump me all of a sudden..." Bakugou said. "That's too damn much... Ya know, I've gotta hit the convenience store soon and there's an asshole cashier that gets on my nerves. You coming or what? Snacks are on me."

"Hm... snacks? Maybe... I don't know..."

Bakugou sighed. "...Can you please come with me?"

This was not the first time you saw a more vulnerable side of Bakugou, but it was one of your favorites. The boy looked genuinely concerned.

"Sure, okay!" you said. "Since you asked soooo nicely."

Bakugou's expression lit up just like yours did and his good mood only continued throughout the night. After spending enough time with you, you eventually considered Bakugou to be well rehabilitated from his chronic grumpy face disease.

(Clingy goofy dorky needy loser Bakugou strikes again!)

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

[novy2sirius]

BRUTALLY HONEST NUMEROLOGY

⬫ lower vibrational vs high vibrational

⬫ note: most of the negative things you’re reading are only applicable to lower vibrational people (people who are consistently at a lower vibration due to their actions). these things of course will not apply to everyone as all your numerical energies play an importance in you and your life experiences do as well

⬫ tw: porn (18+ only), divorce, abandonment

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ the real compatibility of astrology signs lies in the numerology. everyone goes by elements, but i’m sure anyone who has met people and examined enough dynamics between signs can tell that it’s just not accurate with the “fire is compatible with air and earth is compatible with water” bs. the two most compatible signs based on numerology that are soulmates are capricorn and sagittarius’. sag season starts 1122 and capricorn season starts 1221. this is one of the many reasons why. it may be confusing for numerology newbies, but i can explain it in depth in another post eventually

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i don’t think 7’s are good lovers unless they’re 16’s usually. i’m sorry, like i said these are honest.. it’s the same way i feel about strong aquarius energy in an astrology chart. they just don’t know how to put others first, be thoughtful, or be in a relationship in general. usually the men, sorry. they have a tendency to fall weak to any sexual behavior they’re surrounded by. i’ve witnessed many of my friends (even 11’s who are quite compatible with 7’s) get heartbroken by these 7 men because the second a pick me girl tries to get with them while they’re in a relationship, they don’t even try to have self discipline and be loyal. they’re just pervs usually or narcissistic and will find a way to always make you feel as though everything is your fault even though they’re the ones that don’t put effort into relationships. they tend to be better independent. 7 is known as the number of “the loner” for a reason. i don’t think they’re all literal “loners”, but they operate better alone than with others

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have never had good experiences with people that have prominent 19 energy (one of the unreduced 1’s). it could just be that most people with it have lots of negative past life karma, so it’s indicative they have not been a good person in recent past lives. i also believe it has to do with the home environment they often grow up in though. many people that i’ve met with this energy have unbalanced emotional energy simply because they grew up in a chaotic household and now they don’t know how to control their anger or other emotions. 1’s in general sometimes don’t know how to. however, i don’t think any number can directly cause someone to be a bad person, that’s ridiculous. just like with astrology, it does not make you do anything. i’m sure there is people with 19 energy that are good people out there, i just have not yet met any unfortunately. i’ve also noticed they have big ego’s.. like jojo siwa born on the 19th for example. she comes off very cocky and tries to act like it’s just sexy confidence like other women, but it really comes off like a cocky white man instead, which also makes sense with 1 being the number of masculinity and 9 being the number of the ego. to be fair it’s an intense number to have, but these people can be egotistical and just mean as hell sometimes. i will add something good to this since this was a very harsh take. these people can have things come back to them super duper fast, so if they put their energy toward positive things then they can attract better into their life then they’ve gotten in the past

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have yet to meet someone with 25 energy who isn’t a hoe or hasn’t been a huge one at some point. as we know, 2 doubles the energy of the number it’s next to and 5 is the number of sex. this creates lots of sexual energy in people with this number. they tend to also run the porn industry and only fans industry. an example is lana rhoades who was the number one porn star in the world for a while. she was born in 1996 which adds to 25 (1+9+9+6=25). also i do not want to see 13 year olds commenting “i’m not a hoe”. i would hope not, you’re a child..

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ almost everyone with 14 energy in their birthday has had a person in their family abandon them as 14 is related to abandonment. often people with this energy always have divorced parents as well or had a parent leave them when they were really young unfortunately. a good thing about this number though is it can create a very self disciplined energy in someone and cause them to not need others to thrive in the way other numbers do

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 9 energy (especially 27) will accuse you of doing the shitty things that they’re doing when they’re lower vibrational and gaslight you. i would say this number is one of the worst gaslighters. my friends and i have had such bad experiences with the lower vibrational people with it that we literally refer to it as “the number of gaslighting”. they also will never let go of things. even if you got into one tiny fight they will hold things against you forever and don’t know how to forgive and move on. however, i also have met people with 27 energy that aren’t immature in this way and are very intelligent

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 3 energy are the absolutely worst secret keepers. do not tell them your secrets. it’s the number of communication and gossip. as much as some of them hate to admit it they love drama. they’re fun to hang out with though and often the life of the party

[trixy812]

009 ⤿ ⩇8:⩇⩇ a.m.

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

Content: satoru gojo x reader, Sorcerer!Reader, gaslighting, me vs the gojo on my mind — it's getting personal, angst!, unrequited? Love, men being men.

Summary: The strongest sorcerer decides to gaslight his way out of catching feelings.

A/N: Hey everyone! I feel so bad! I feel like my fanfics were finally gaining momentum, and then I just disappeared! I still owe a request that I’m working on, but it’s been so hard to write with my mom around 24/7 lately (she is staying by me because of the holidays). Anyway, no more excuses—I’ll start writing at night like I’m doing now! I always write Gojo as a jerk, but, well… he does give off those vibes LOL.

The bar was alive with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional sharp remark from Shoko that left everyone in stitches. For a group of jujutsu sorcerers constantly staring death in the face, it was rare to find a moment of ease like this. You couldn’t help but feel grateful.

To your left, Gojo Satoru sat with his usual air of ease, holding a glass of sake he clearly had no intention of finishing. Despite his reputation for being a lightweight when it came to alcohol, he’d taken a few sips tonight—mostly because you had dared him to.

“See? Not so bad,” you teased, the corner of your lips curling mischievously.

“You’re lucky I’m weak to peer pressure, soulmate.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferably charming?”

“Keep dreaming.”

The hours slipped by faster than you expected. Laughter turned to quieter conversations, and the group began to dwindle as the night bled into morning. By 7 a.m., only a handful of them remained—Gojo, you, and a few others—now lounging in Gojo’s room.

You claimed the small couch with a tired groan, sinking into the cushions as your body finally gave in to the weight of exhaustion and a little too much sake. You weren't drunk, but your guard was lower than usual.

Moments later, you felt the cushions dip beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Hope you don’t mind me intruding,” Gojo said, his voice low and teasing. “Sharing a couch with me might be the highlight of your night, you know.”

“You’re delusional,” you mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Delusion or destiny? Hard to tell.”

His words earned a quiet laugh from you, but you didn’t push him away. You were too tired, and his presence, while annoying, was oddly comforting. Silence settled over you—a rare, fragile moment of peace.

Then, without really thinking, you let your fingers brush against his. It was a small, almost hesitant motion, but it felt like a spark in the quiet room.

To your surprise, Gojo didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted, his hand catching yours with a natural ease. His long fingers intertwined with yours, his grip firm but gentle.

Your eyes opened slightly, catching the faintest glimpse of his profile. His head was tilted back, resting against the couch, his expression uncharacteristically serene. You wondered if he was even aware of what he’d just done.

Neither of you spoke. Your joined hands spoke louder than words ever could.

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

The buzzing of your phone pulled you from your half-hearted attempt to focus. Your head still throbbed faintly from the late night, but your thoughts were sharper than ever, replaying the memory of Gojo’s hand in yours. You'd barely had time to process it when his name lit up your screen.

The message was short.

Gojo: Hey, I’m worried.

Your brow furrowed as you tapped to read the rest.

Gojo: It seems like you’re starting to fall harder for me. I wish I hadn’t come into your life. That way, you wouldn’t have to suffer because of me.

Your heart stopped, then restarted with a sharp jolt of frustration. You read the words again, disbelief coloring your thoughts.

Fall for him? Fall HARDER for him? Was he serious?

Your mind raced, emotions clashing between anger and something softer—something you didn’t want to name. Gojo’s words felt like a dismissal, an assumption wrapped in pity. But instead of giving in to your frustration, you forced yourself to think carefully. You wouldn’t let him rewrite the narrative.

Taking a deep breath, you began typing.

Y/n:

Satoru, don’t say things like that. You’re really important to me, and I want us to keep having fun together—at parties, going out to eat, wherever.

Yes, it’s true that we flirt and we’ve shared some amazing moments, but we both know where the line is, right? I don’t want our dynamic or our friendship to change.

Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before you hit send. You didn’t regret the words—they were honest. But as the message disappeared into the void, your stomach twisted with uncertainty.

For days, you couldn’t stop turning the situation over in your mind.

“He acts like I’m the one chasing him,” you muttered, pacing your apartment for the fifth time that morning. Your frustration bubbled over, equal parts anger and hurt.

The memories of his teasing messages flashed through your mind:

"Do you think soulmates are real? Because I’m starting to."

"If you cosplayed, you might actually win my heart."

It wasn’t just you! He had been just as complicit, throwing out lines that blurred boundaries, making you wonder if there was something more beneath the banter. And now, he had the nerve to act like it was all your doing?

You clenched your fists, then exhaled deeply, forcing yourself to calm down.

Your next meeting was purely professional. You handed Gojo a thick report, carefully detailing the outcomes of a mission he was scheduled to follow up on. You were in a brightly lit office, the air between you cool but not uncomfortable.

Gojo skimmed the papers briefly, then grinned. “You’re efficient as always, y/n. What would I do without you?”

You gave him a polite smile, trying not to overthink the casual tone of his voice.

As you turned to leave, his voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You glanced back to find him making a heart shape with his fingers, his grin widening. “I couldn’t expect anything less from my best friend. Thanks for existing.”

You froze for half a second before your lips curved into a faint smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Anytime, Gojo.”

As you walked away, your chest felt heavy. You wee relieved your dynamic hadn’t shifted after his stupid message. But deep down, a small part of you wished that moment on the couch—the warmth of his hand in yours—had been the beginning of something far more tangible.

Taglist

@haruhatake

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

[amitshridhar]

How sensible is anger, it always comes against the weak!

Anger is so intelligent, it always comes against the weak!

Anger vs weak!

04/01/2025, saturday 04 january 2025, 01:01 p.m, indore, madhya pradesh, india.

[drama-glob]

Something I'm really anxious and eager to see is whether Satan will truly be an antagonist to Fizz and Ozzie's relationship like Mammon or if he'll be more on the neutral side as wrath can be seen as justifiable depending on the circumstances/if it channeled into something productive; I know he's calling someone a disgrace in that screenshot, but he could be saying it to Ozzie, Stolas or possibly even Mammon because I'm sure if he heard about Mammon leaving rather than fighting Ozzie, he'd be judging him for that. ;)

I have a feeling Satan will still likely lean towards the antagonistic side (unless his mind gets changed :/), but the fact of it being Ozzie vs Satan is something I find interesting because those two share several characteristics in common such as muscles (although it appears Satan will at least have more of that given Bee's remarks ;) ), height and literal fire power; we see too that when it comes to Ozzie's love for Fizz, he's fully capable of letting his anger out in order to protect Fizz or just express how he feels when Fizz is in danger. Ozzie is normally chill however as his sin pertains to lust/pleasure in general and to which he has already said shouldn't be about force, thus it would fall more into the wrath category (as well as pride and greed too) whenever it stops being about consensual sex/mutual enjoyment and turns into domination and control, which could be where Satan possibly sees Ozzie as weak despite the latter having the moral high-ground in this; Satan could also see Ozzie as weak because he sees love as making someone soft and is a weakness that can be exploited, but we admittedly don't know enough about Satan yet to know what his opinions about love are. :/ In the end though, having this potential confrontation between the two sins come down to them upholding the values of the sin they represent with Ozzie fighting for his right to love Fizz too (and thus showing love doesn't make you weaker) should be good. ^_^ (I already mentioned it in another post about how them fighting would make it be like love vs war, but it very well may still be case ;) ).

One a related note, it's also interesting is we've already seen lust and wrath be connected (at least when it involves infidelity being discovered) all the way back in episode one. O_O

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: The chokehold this man has on me…sorry ik I haven’t been writing in a hot minute so bear with me 😭😭 I’ll resume writing some Katsuki fics too but I’m in a slump so send me requests I beg 🙏🙏Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): f!reader, no curses au, Satoru and Suguru are basketball players, reader has a really crappy boyfriend, Satoru kinda kisses you without consent on a big screen but it’s okay because it’s cute lmao, this is seriously Wattpad Y/N coded but shush lemme fantasize, cursing, Satoru calls you pretty girl, ooc Satoru?, I know next to nothing about basketball

Pairing(s): Gojo Satoru x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴄᴀᴍ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

Can’t stop thinking about those kiss cam fails that expose a shitty boyfriend and it got me thinking..

Now, I have no idea if they do kiss cams at basketball games, but for the plot, let’s say they do.

It’s halftime- the players are resting before they continue on in the third quarter and thus for the span of the next fifteen minutes, the gigantic screen was showing funny prompts comparing audience members to popular characters and media personalities- going so far as to show Iori Utahime, manager of the Kyoko team as Kanae Kocho from the popular show Demon Slayer.

You thought it was amusing- the halftime entertainment on the jumbotron was most likely your favorite part about the game- considering you had come here with your boyfriend for a date. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the game itself, basketball had very simple rules that you could follow and you found yourself very invested in the game…but so was your boyfriend. 

A little too invested, to be honest. He was always aggressive when it came to sports, you remember watching the World Cup at his house with some friends and he ended up physically breaking the TV once the team he was rooting for lost. You knew his anger issues were well…an issue, but you looked past it- he treated you decently and you weren’t entirely unhappy, so everything was fine.

Recently however, the both of you started to drift apart, and in fear of losing the man you had been dating since high school, you finally bought him tickets to the Tokyo vs Kyoto game. 

And well that was your first mistake. You were developing a migraine by the end of the first quarter, your boyfriend’s incessant screaming making you sink into your seat in embarrassment.

By now, the Jumbotron had moved into a different prospect- a kiss cam.

You felt your heart warm as an elderly couple kissed sweetly on camera- a testament to their long lasting love, only for the feeling to end once one of the cameras trained their focus on you and your boyfriend.

You couldn’t help the goofy grin that stretched across your face as you nudged your boyfriend, but the man in question was too engrossed in his phone call to notice his own face on the giant screen for all to see. Your smile died down a little as he waved you off for the third time now, and the camera decided to not embarrass you further by choosing a new target- hilariously a pair of siblings who understandably looked repulsed at the thought of complying.

To your dismay, not all of the cameramen that weaved their way through the masses took the hint, and another one circulating the stands puts you and your boyfriend on the screen again.

You managed a weak smile for the camera trained on you as you nudged him again, only for the asshole to wave you off yet again with a pissed off look on his face.

The audience pitied you, seeing your boyfriend disregard you completely - however, they weren’t the only ones who noticed.

“That bastard is a shitty asshole, eh Satoru?”

“Asshole is sugarcoating.” the snowy haired male mutters, wiping his forehead with the damp towel Shoko gave him. “ Tch. Look at how he’s treating her. Pretty little thing doesn’t deserve this.”

Suguru blinks. “Damn dude didn’t think you’d get so worked up about it.”

Satoru watches as you helplessly try to get your boyfriend to at least look up to no avail, annoyance bubbling inside him along with second hand frustration as he can physically see your heart break through your eyes.

Why was the cameraman still recording?!

Satoru always has good eyes- maybe that’s why you stood out to him so much, even before the kiss cam flashed your pretty face across the entire court. Your boyfriend was wearing a Kyoto jersey, and yet… your eyes were on him, intently watching the game with such a fervor that one would think you were playing the game yourself. All of his fans were obsessive, he knew that- most of the stadium comprised of his fans alone- thought that was probably because of his looks. However, you seemed to be interested in him for his skills,  instead of his looks, years of hard work and patience finally being recognized.

It was…refreshing.

And yet seeing that heartbroken expression on your face was like a dry desert wind, scratchy and arid, sweeping away the energizing feeling that came from you.

It wasn’t like him to get so worked up about a fan of all things…and yet, he couldn’t yet it. There was just something so captivating about you.

Before he realized what he was doing,  he got up and started walking towards you rapidly, ignoring the yells from Suguru, Shoko, and Coach Masamichii.

His long legs allowed him to make his way to your row quickly, and thankfully you were on the end, easier for him to reach.

You looked at him in shock, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise, just before he swoops in and presses his lips against yours.

“Wha- what are y- mmph!”

Your boyfriend stares at the both of you, aghast, his face turning bright red in anger but Satoru doesn’t care.

Neither does the audience, the stadium erupting and whoops and cheers and you’re saved by none other than the star player of the Toyko team, Satoru Gojo - both of your faces loud and clear on the Jumbotron.

Your brain isn’t able to process anything, starstruck and grateful and flustered and pissed at your boyfriend and…happy.

Satoru kissed you lovingly- which you thought was impossible considering the two of you had just met, but it was happening.

He tasted like candy, you think, kissing him back timidly - because this was wrong, you knew that, but why did it feel so right? His large palm snakes around to the back of your neck, slowly running his long fingers through your hair, before parting, your faces only millimeters away from each other.

You’re both left breathless, but not for long because Satoru regained his composure, squeezing your shoulder before swiftly grabbing the bucket on popcorn your boyfriend (soon to be ex) and dumping it on his head.

The audience roars in approval and you wanted to snort at the star basketball player’s childishness, before you remembered that the white haired man in front of you was a star basketball player.

You just kissed a star basketball player. On a Jumbotron.

Satoru turns back to you with a cheeky grin and you gape at him, awestruck.

He coos at your expression and takes your hand in his. “How about you join me up front, hm pretty girl? I’m sure you’ll have a way better view from down there.” He winks and you feel all the blood rush to your face.

“I uh…o-okay…” you manage to squeak out, letting Satoru lead you down to the benches where the rest of his team was.

Did…did that just happen?

[throwaway-yandere]

His Version Of You [Yan!Kaveh & Yan!Veritas Ratio/Reader]

a/n: tis another solid “twas a crack idea but I made it too serious” fic. kavetham rivalry is overrated af, KaTio is the way to go /j. when you finish it, can you answer the poll at the bottom on who you would pick between these two? bless you.

unreliable synopsis: When one grieves, sometimes it is best not to be reminded of who you're grieving for. Especially not by fighting over a recreation of their heart and soul. [based on @2broschlininahotub & @meimeimeirin's request]

content warnings/tags: [light yandere vs yandere]/[implied poly!yandere/reader] fic, geniuses who can't take a W, au shenanigans, the girlies love to bicker it’s their love native language

"What were you thinking, you idiot?! Thank my reflexes that I caught the statue beforehand or else I would have to explain what a monumental mistake that is. Just use your common sense for once, will you?!"

"Please— I don't want to hear that from YOU of all people! This is MY stone. Stop acting like you actually care. You took us away from my world! You're the one who's too obsessed with researching it! It's like a damn test subject and not a companion to you!"

"That's because it is, you fucking oaf!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING ME FALSE HOPE THAT IT'S A LIVING BEING!!!"

Veritas stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched and his frown the deepest Kaveh had ever seen. The architect, absolutely baffled at his experiment partner's harsh evaluation, felt his eyes dampening. His bumping of the sculpture was pure accident, but Veritas' sharp tongue cut deep into Kaveh's pride. Even the most understanding of men would find his tone abrasive.

Getting riled up…Over a damn statue.

"Just because it's alive, doesn't mean it's a companion. And just because it is a test subject, doesn't mean you can just near-topple it as you damn please."

The arguments subsided. They exchanged long looks as they tried to figure out how the "little dispute" had come dangerously close to abusive. With his anger gradually fading, Kaveh was the one to take the first initiative. Kaveh steeled himself. The architect's shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Jaded.

"Veritas... I'm sorry. As much as this statue… means… to me, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-I was just upset, you're aware that I've been working all afternoon polishing the statue and I took that anger out on you. I'm sorry." Kaveh said.

"Right." Veritas closed his eyes. "Apology accepted. I understand that you're visibly distressed, but I will not tolerate low-quality work."

As Kaveh was about to get defensive, Veritas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Which is to say, take a rest, Kaveh. Work when you can guarantee peak performance." Veritas sighed. "Rest. Pompom has already prepared your bed for you."

Kaveh cast his gaze down on the floor, wearing a feeble smile. Though their list of grievances from the past days was enough to fill two pages, Veritas is steeped in cunning. He knew exactly how to plaster Kaveh's impulse.

"Right… I'm just tired."

"Precisely. The faster the progress, the greater the chance of errors." Veritas smiled back, although looking less sincere as Kaveh's. "Take a rest, Kaveh."

With a murmur, Kaveh got up and dusted off his pants from the metamorphic rock that had been sandpapered. People aren't made to stay cooped up inside all the time. He took one last look at the project before heading out for the night, noting that while the foundation was in place, work still needed to be done before they could decide on the final look. If he could just make the hands softer-looking…

"Kaveh…" Veritas chimed, warning with his arms crossed.

"Right, right!" Kaveh laughed nervously, still slightly vexed by the reproach. "Maybe I'm getting too brave at night, I don't know why I'm boldly thinking of trying my hand at smoothening the statue again."

"I'd consider you more weak-hearted than stouthearted," Veritas dusted Kaveh's shoulders off. "And do try to keep yourself clean."

"I'm too tired to run a shower…"

Veritas sighed loudly.

The both of them had decided to leave the studio with a degree of finality. Hunched over, the kidnapped architect left to take his well-deserved slumber while the doctor decided that a warm bath would benefit him more. The night "concludes", or so Kaveh thought.

Looking back, these two are the most unlikely friends to exist, are they not? A professor slash doctor of the Intelligentsia Guild and the architect "Light of the Kshahwerar" collaborating over a glorified arts and crafts project. To truly understand this bizarreness, it is wise to look back to its beginning.

In his quest to rid the galaxy of a disease he dubbed "ignorance", Dr. Veritas Ratio sallied forth to practice his preachings. Even joined the Astral Express at some point, but it was only in this instance did he found companionship with an extremely empathetic individual. 

And their first meeting was not a decent starting point.

Veritas set out on his umpteenth assignment handed out by the Express. He was sent to explore the dangerous land formations of Sumeru with the trailblazer. Every extended curve revealed pyramids and sand, and Veritas kept Stelle close by using her straps as a leash. Nevertheless, when they accidentally entered an unstable domain, his disgruntled complaints ceased. Deciding it would be best for only one to investigate further, Veritas volunteered.

There was just one discernible light path inside the mostly collapsing structure. Yet, every step he took was curiously inaudible, and when he reached the Apex, he met the sight of blonde hair. 

Enter: Kaveh.

"You get what I mean right? It feels like my problems just keep piling up and up, like an impossible mountain. There's never anyone who would listen to me complain, but you…" The words that fell from the stranger's lips were sweeter than honey as he waxed poetic. "You're always here to listen. And it makes me feel so much less alone. Thank you…"

The blonde man had his cheek against a large rectangular rock, caressing it appreciatingly. His eyelids were lowered and his cheeks were puffy. Whether he cried beforehand or was merely exhausted cannot be assessed from Veritas' distance from him.

February 5, ████.

Kaveh had recently lost his lover that day. They died due to an unforeseen heart attack, which pains him more since his darling had always been healthy. Since his "delam" has passed away, he has been inconsolable. He refused to part with any possessions they left. No matter how many of their fellow archeologists begged for (Y/n)'s notes, he barked with gritted teeth that his mind would not change.

… How ironic that he used to call his lover "my heart" when the very same organ was the cause of death.

Neither wine nor friends can get a reaction out of him. The best he could do to continue living was to focus on his work and his young mentees. (Y/n) always wanted to be a teacher but couldn't because of their daytime job, so Kaveh fulfilled their dreams instead.

That includes continuing their research on the strange rock they had found in the desert.

Kaveh remained hotly bent on preserving everything they loved. Despite its unconventional and jagged appearance, the rock struck him as the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. Its lack of clear patterns didn't matter; it stood tall, capturing his fascination. It had ended his slump and had become an integral part of him. This hyperfixation had not gone unnoticed by Lesser Lord Kusanali, but when she visited him, she… strangely endorsed of his newfound lunacy. She knew something he did not.

Something about the rock… felt so similar to his deceased "delam".

The doctor, lacking any context for the sight before him, raised an eyebrow. His duty may be to educate others, but this was beyond help. A pell-mell of incoherent ramblings filled the room with the hither and thither of blonde hair to match. But this was the first person he encountered in Teyvat. And he was determined to get any info out of him.

"Excuse me."

The blonde man blinked repeatedly, eyes going wide at the sight of Veritas approaching.

"I'm Dr. Veri—"

"T-This isn't what it looks like!!!" The blonde freaked out. "This is– It's just! This rock, it has sentimental value and–"

"…" Veritas drawled. "Riiiight. I'm… Dr. Veritas Ratio. I'm not of this world— I believe my companions and I are what you refer to as Descenders. We wish to collect petrology info for databank purposes. May you offer assistance?"

Kaveh did not know what to say. But by instincts, he knew something was not entirely right with this man. 

He'd be right. Veritas wasn't there specifically for rocks. He's just, crudely put, nosy.

"And I am supposed to blindly believe any stranger who wears such a strange getup?" Kaveh stood up and protectively hid the rock behind him. "Sorry, I kindly refuse. And I am not equipped to help either."

Veritas smirked and cracked some knuckles with his left thumb.

There was a damn good reason why Stelle was left behind. On the entrance of the gate laid an inscription that roughly translates to the words "adepti" and "tribute". His intellect in this linguistics may be rusty, but it is not incorrect.

He had an inkling that the rock this peculiar blonde was obsessing over was imbued with a sliver of ambuscade soul who took arms against the worst opponents imaginable.

A "yaksha", if you were a Liyue local.

Veritas was by no means unmindful of Kaveh's obsession. He held his tongue, assessing that to set a quarrel with an unpredictable variable would prolong his journey. There was no profit to be had in angering an unreadable man. 

"Well then, if I can't take that rock within reason…"

Dr. Ratio opened his book.

…

…

…

"… Long story short, that's why this chick is all wrapped up like a present."

Through brute force, both Stelle and Veritas managed to drop both Kaveh and the rock inside the Express, to the surprise of many. They were initially sent to only survey Teyvat (which meant Veritas positively lied to Kaveh earlier). No one expected an angry Sumeru man to "visit." 

"I-I am not a chick! I am a man! I'm Kaveh— an architect!!!" The self-proclaimed man wriggled around the trailblazer's yellow ropes, looking pale as he stared at the unfamiliar faces and scenery before him. "H-Hey!!! Unhand me at once!!!"

"Oh, you're not a girl? You're pretty, though."

"I should've known you would bring something peculiar on board, Dr. Ratio, I just didn't expect it to be a weird human-sized rock..." Said the red-haired lady. "But anyways, you, Sir Kaveh, have quite a remarkable sense of fashion."

"I haven't seen any guy wear earrings that big before…" The grey-haired girl said with grabby hands.

"Please don't try to yank it off him," the brown-haired man sighed and pulled her back with his cane.

Kaveh was a little taken aback by the diversity of tongues in front of him. It was clear based on their accents that they didn't quite come from the same world, yet they communicate as near-family. 

"Do all Teyvat people have rocks for friends or is it just you?" A strawberry-haired young lady asked as she approached the rock, which set Kaveh in an even more panicked frenzy when she attempted to poke it.

"N-NO!!! DON'T!!!" 

March flinched at his sudden scream and nearly fell had Stelle not caught her.

"Yeah, March, be respectful, you never know if that's the love of his life or something like that," said Stelle.

Kaveh's eyes widened. "You… How did you just understand me better than my friends…?"

The room went quiet. Dan Heng glanced at Veritas, who pretended not to notice him. Mentioning romance near him had always been a dangerous move. Veritas' face crumpled slightly. 

There were scars in his own heart he had yet to patch up, and he needed no reminder that he was procrastinating.

Dan Heng cleared his throat.

"It's bad news to have Stelle be the only one who "gets you" if you consider yourself of sane mind." Dan Heng spoke. "But then again, you remind me of Argenti…"

"Where did you find this man, Doctor?" Welt digressed, concerned as he towered above the tied Kaveh. The older man doesn't have objections to his (kidnapped) presence. He can tell by the look on both Kaveh and Veritas' faces that neither was a man with no substance, and the latter saw to exploit the former.

Veritas only shrugged and jabbed his thumb in Stelle's general direction. "Assistant…"

"On it." Stelle saluted solemnly. "We found him in a pyramid. The doctor thought he would be a worthy individual to study if we wish to understand the culture behind one of the seven nations. Since Mister Yang told us to befriend important people–"

"Since when was kidnapping synonymous with befriending?"

"–this is Ratio's candidate."

"That is correct, and he's not just any other person. I have seen him in the Guild's Persons of Interest. He is Kaveh, the light of the Kshahrewar," Veritas claimed. "A certified scholar of the Akademiya and the face for the Darshan he was an alumnus of."

The Express quietly signaled shock over Ratio's interest in the man. 

Kaveh slunk back, defeated. When there's little progress, a man naturally turns restive. Kaveh no longer had much to fear in his life. The worst had already come to pass, and the world became mere static noise. He had no hope of escaping soon, not when he saw his homeworld's true "sky". Or at least, back then, he thought it was one. The world he knew was a mere tapestry of ████…

…

"Not that there aren't enough rooms in the Express, but why bring him and the rock here?" Himeko paused to take a sip of her piping hot coffee. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, overkill?"

"It's because that pyramid is no place to cultivate a living species, and there's no better–... lab assistant... than this man before us." Dr. Ratio looked at the man on the floor. 

Dan Heng tried not to comment on how sad his tone was when Veritas referred to Kaveh as a "lab assistant". He knew what had happened to Ratio, but it was not the right time or place. 

"What do you mean by living?" Himeko asked.

"That rock has adeptal power within it that we can awaken. That is, if he'd help us make his little rock come to life."

With his words, he moved the unweariable Kaveh to act complacent.

Kaveh felt as though the floor caved beneath him. An unholy mixture of disbelief, awe, and joy swirled within his already jetlagged mind. The fact of the matter was, despite being incredibly unstable, he was lucid enough to know that a miracle was possible. 

"What…?"

"It's been a month since that whole debacle," Veritas muttered to himself as he flicked the wrist that held his book away from the bathtub's bubbly waters. "I suppose I was harsh to the poor man. But is that treatment not at all deserved?"

Over time, Veritas grew to like Kaveh, especially after knowing he was tutoring young aspiring architects free of charge. Still, Kaveh's strangely compliant behavior does not deviate from his first impression. His empty eyes were enough sign that Kaveh lived through emotionally draining struggles and came out with few real friends. He lost his raison d'etre, that's why he willingly threw his life in Teyvat away.

… In Kaveh's words, he only wished for a "vacation". If his prize was to go elsewhither with a satisfying result, then he's not opposed to (getting kidnapped) a new "collaboration".

The doctor can't say no to it either.

Deep down, prodigy genius Veritas couldn't deny the harsh truth: witnessing that pitiful man finding solace in an inanimate object was a stark reminder that he harbored the same "illness".

Hence, Veritas offered consistent "insults" to the brightest of Kshashrewar, and each time, Kaveh took the opportunity to improve. Veritas considered it a necessary evil. But even after surpassing those challenges, Kaveh was helpless to overcome the deep emptiness that persisted in his soul.

Kaveh never really spoke about who his previous lover was. All everyone knew was that he lovingly called them "delam"– his heart. They didn't want to bring him more pain by even asking a simple question like delam's real name.

A huge mistake later on.

"... Tch," Veritas grunted, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. The thought of his last love affairs had soured his mood.

Veritas stood from his bath, drying himself and wrapping a towel on his lower half.

… He likely won't sleep tonight.

Forgetting his agreement to continue the project tomorrow morning, he unlocked the door to the studio room Himeko lent them. He left trails of his wet footsteps. His wavy hair also remained damp, but he could not care much for it. Veritas will dress himself up later. Just a towel will suffice for now.

"Sculpting…"

Veritas laughed to himself as he took some tools off the table.

"Wasn't this your pastime and not mine—" he closed his eyes, muttering the next words with a teasingly melancholic tilt. "Assistant (L/n)?"

His grip on the chisel tightened, painting his knuckles white.

Professor (Y/n) (L/n).

The person responsible for the Council of Mundanites' existence. Their name rarely escapes his lips, treating their memory like a curse. Just exhaling the thought of them out of his system makes him nauseous. As if the air inside him gets knocked out. His eyes would flutter shut, no different from a dying man who held weakly holds on. Veritas hated this anguish. The doctor hated this vicious seemingly never-ending cycle called "grief".

"(Y/n)…" Ratio muttered. "Your face is still etched in my mind. What more do I need to eradicate these… unnecessary burdens?"

He could practically hear them laugh beside him.

Haha, please. You think about me so much that you consider me burdensome? Oh, you dork! If you loved me so much, you should've written a love letter.

"You absolute ignoramus," Veritas laughed softly. "You cannot discredit my efforts, though, can you?"

"My dearest…" He breathed out in pain once more. "My most wonderful partner. The best teaching assistant I ever had. You…"

… Never loved him back.

Dr. Veritas Ratio was no idiot. He despised any form of delusion. Throughout his life, he had been a tyrannical figure who pursued truth and not stagnant idolatry for every "patient". But when an immovable force meets an unstoppable object, would you consider him a tamed emperor?

Professor (L/n) was the first person he met who brazenly called themselves a "mundanite". A true mediocre. And they were beautiful at their very core.

Not free of sin, but free of hubris.

Molded as a genius since birth, the very foundations of (L/n)'s philosophies dismantled Ratio. (L/n) admired geniuses like Herta, but never romanticized the notion of natural-born wits. They always strived to eradicate their own "ignorance". But even when they are more knowledgeable than they let on, (L/n) never boasts. This behavior provides no benefit in an academically competitive field. Nothing confused the irrefutable prodigy like their longtime academic partner.

Geniuses— Masters— when I achieve great things, I don't want to have silly titles before my name. It's so… rigid, don't you think so, Veritas?

I wouldn't know.

Ha! Of course, you wouldn't. You've lived your entire life as one. But level with me for a second. Wouldn't life be less boring if…

He raised the chisel.

… we never stopped considering ourselves as mere beginners? Isn't there more joy to being a mundane with untapped potential than a stiff jack of all trades? C'mon, Veritas. Doesn't the idea that there's always more to explore make this vast world seem less dull?

Veritas bit his lip. Tears were threatening to spill.

February 5, ████.

It was Dr. Veritas Ratio's fault that they died that day. He thought (L/n) was capable of handling an extremely dangerous laboratory mishap. They were not. Despite his assistant's years of experience, every man is an unsuspecting fledgling in the face of death. It does not discriminate between the mediocre and the brightest.

That's absurd, (L/n). What is the point of learning if not for its mastery?

"Assistant… Let me offer this final tribute so that you can finally s-stop… haunting… me."

But they will never stop. Their last long exchange repeated in his head throughout the night. No matter how many times he hammered, the clanging sound did not drown out the voices in his head. The words mocked him, over and over, and over.

I'm sorry Veritas…

Why are you apologizing?

… I'm afraid I just don't see you that way. I'm just an ordinary person, and I doubt I could ever genuinely return the love of someone as brilliant as you. I'm afraid your affection might be akin to caring for a pet, and I can't find it in myself to figure out how to respond in kind.

… That's not true. You cannot simply decline my confession with a lukewarm excuse—

I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary college professor with no PhDs. I will have to reject your love. I'm so sorry.

But why?!

"(Y/n)… The one person I can never grasp…" Veritas muttered as he looked at the finished piece. "Here you are... Created by my own hands..."

Beautiful. Not a single doubt that it was carved in their likeness. The (Y/n) he knew was a professor who loved their teaching job, but wished they were more of an adventurer. Secretly, (Y/n) wanted to be an archeologist, and perhaps that's one of the reasons why Veritas let the mysterious rock formation inside the Express. Maybe if they continued living, they would've liked this gesture.

Ha… As if.

Veritas—

W-What aspect must I improve on? To dismiss me so impatiently— do I lack the charm? I can always learn to suit your tastes. Don't tell such a bold lie. I highly doubt that it is due to my academic performance. There's another man you've wasted your affections on, is there?!

Veritas, please…

Enough! Enough with these lies and tell me! J-Just… Just tell me, (Y/n)!

He's tired. Veritas just wanted to hold them again. He just wanted to "fix" their hair- tucking his golden hairpin to subconsciously teach their associates and students that Professor (L/n) was his. He missed the way he would hide (L/n)'s lab coat just so he could make them wear his as he left for the day. He missed secretly leaving small love confessions on their class grade spreadsheets, add/drop forms, and even their private online journals so he would read messages about how they must've caught a computer virus. He missed teasing them when they hadn't got a clue that he was unserious. He missed hearing (L/n) whine. He missed the way it made him warm.

He missed the warmth.

"Stop..."

He missed you.

"Stop this..."

And he continues to miss his (Y/n) so much.

"Please..."

It's unbearable.

There is no one else.

Yes, there is! I refuse to believe it! It's your recent lab partner, isn't it!? The man everyone has fallen for— you have taken a liking to him more than me, the person who has been with you all this time!!! You… You ungrateful!—

Veritas is so, so tired and more chipped than the rock he had worked on… Unlike the statue, he cannot tangibly pick up the pieces (L/n) that broke him in. There's only a hollow void of what could've been.

Why... Why did they have to reject him? If they hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have coldly assigned (Y/n) to deal with the containment breach alone. He would've thought it through. He would've realized he was plagued with ignorance. He would've changed so many things that February 5th.

But that's all there was to it. Just "would have"s, not "have done"s.

Ngh–?! Why… did you... slap me…?

Veritas, maybe you should stop and look down and listen to us common-minded folks for once in your life! The simple fact is that you're just so out of reach. How can you love me, when you don't even understand me, Genius Ratio? How can you confess when you don't know what it's like to work for the knowledge you have? How can you love a "mundanite" like me?

… (Y/n)… T-That's simply untrue, and you are aware of that...

It's morning, an appropriate time to head back to his guest room.

When he was certain that he was alone, Veritas finally allowed himself to cry.

"There's no mistake that we both are- were idiots. We both failed to see that I'm a mundanite, just like you."

In contrast to his former roommate, Kaveh is an early riser. Not exactly a morning person, but a man of discipline nonetheless. Perhaps the concluded argument last night made his rise more motivating. He had no qualms with getting out of bed, heading straight to take a shower before drinking coffee with Himeko.

The morning was wordless but calm.

Whatever happened after he reentered the studio, however, was the exact opposite.

"Delam…?" Kaveh knelt with both knees down on the floor, shocked.

"Is that you…? Delam… Delam!!!"

You tilted your head.

Delam. That was the first word you've heard upon your birth or "rebirth", depending on whose narrative was at play. You first rose from your slumber much like an earth's crust would give way to a volcano. Warmth seeped from your chest and then throughout your body, filling you with life and newfound nerves. But no one was around. You had been observing the fading trail of wet footsteps, yet lacked the courage to leave the room.

Veritas was right. The rock does have life. And you have been awakened.

You looked human. You move human.

But you do not sound human.

"Delam! I-I can't believe this!"

For words fail.

「… Who are you?」

After all, since when can statues speak?

With unsteady legs, he attempted to approach your nearly nude figure. The sheet they used to keep out dust was the only cover you had. He pulled you in when he got close enough, and you wanted to squeak when he rested his nose on your shoulder. His breath tickled hot. However, his warm tears helped you to accept the melancholic reality.

"Delam! D-Delam, my sweetheart, my (Y-(Y/n)… A-Ah… Ah…"

Kaveh pulled back only to kiss your forehead. He was warm. You are not. Despite the fabrics he wore, you can feel his heat against your "skin". His heart was beating. Such an organ does not exist inside of you.

"(Y/n), my (Y/n)…" He gasped out between peppered kisses on your neck. "Mine… My heart has returned to me. Can you hear it too? It's beating again… It beats… I never thought I'd hear my heart again since you've been gone…"

His words made little sense to you, but you knew he liked your form. Kaveh's fingers traced around you, loving each inch, whether it was curved flesh or bone-like sharpness— he didn't care for he knew it was his (Y/n) (L/n).

He's so colorful. Reds, yellows, oranges, and even hints of blues and greens. It made you silently conscious about how you were a boring dull gray.

Warm, like the sun.

「… Baobei?」

"My (Y/n)… D-Delam…" Kaveh pressed his forehead against yours, your lips nearly touching.

You wiped his tears away.

Was that your name? (Y/n)…?

"Kaveh, what the hell are you doing?!"

The blonde man momentarily stopped cradling you out of shock.

This new man was all purples, blue, gold, and small taints of cyan and red. The expression he wore made you believe he might be covetous beyond mankind. There's a level of gluttonous greed in his anger that makes even the earth like yourself phased.

「… Who is he…?」

Both of them feel familiar to you, but you do not know why.

"Veritas!" Kaveh's eyes widened. "A miracle just happened— delam— they're—!"

"Put (Y/n) down this instant!!!"

Kaveh blinked.

"What… What did you say?"

"I said put them down, damn it! Who the hell are you, touching them so carelessly like they're yours?!"

Kaveh's eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know that name?!" Kaveh yelled. "How did you know who (Y/n) is!?"

The doctor was equally confused.

Why would the ignorance-prone Kaveh know the name of his deceased love too?

Veritas has not talked about his old assistant to any breathing being for a long time. Talking felt like admitting that they were gone for good. But in this case, it produces a contrary result.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I?!"

"I don't know— maybe because you're not from Teyvat?!"

"What are you on, you imbecile?! Can you stop defiling them with your filthy hands?!" Veritas scowled and summoned his book. "Hands. Off."

The warning only made Kaveh even more possessive. He gently pushed you behind his back, glaring at him.

"No."

"Kaveh, you pestilence ridden—!!!"

"No, not until you tell me why the hell you know the name of my fiance!"

Veritas' heart sank.

… Fiance?

No… No, no way.

What's happening? How would that make sense?!

(Y/n) is his. Why should you belong to Kaveh?

"Are… are you insane?!" Veritas screamed. "I should've—"

"What?! Threw me off the Express?! I dare you!!!" Kaveh glared. "You knew you couldn't win against me alone, that's why your best bet was to knock me out— and you know it."

"Ngh."

Neither of them realized the greater reason as to why they knew the "same" person. The doctor may have jumped through various universes, but he had not done enough to notice a key factor.

There they were, claiming to love the image behind their animated statue— when they didn't know what it was they cried for.

"Just answer the question: who is (Y/n) to you?" Kaveh grumbled.

Somehow, he was far more frightening when his voice was calm and low. 

The usually diplomatic architect materialized his weapon out of thin air.

"Go on. Tell me."

The doctor stiffened. There was no way Veritas was losing this argument. 

It's unethical. Wholly unethical to appeal to pathos in this manner. To weave tales for his benefit.

But the end justifies the means.

Veritas flashed you a guilt-ridden expression…

Before he said the biggest lie known only to himself.

"Professor (Y/n) (L/n) is MY dead lover, and I molded the statue based on their appearance last night!" Veritas yanked a fistful of Kaveh's shirt and brought him closer. "So why are you claiming them as YOURS?!"

…

…

The sound of a cane hitting the floor stopped all hell from possibly breaking loose.

Welt Yang had one foot inside the room and one out the door. He wore a knowing and empathetic look. The others were behind him, looking particularly shaken up.

This screaming match was the worst the two ever had.

"Kaveh, Dr. Ratio, enough." He calmly spoke up. "I think I understand the confusion."

"Allow me to explain…"

"I'm surprised you have no comments on their flower-bespangled clothes, yet…" 

"The aesthetic is... tasteful. I like the headdress." 

"Of course, you like the crown of laurel…" 

"However–"

"Oh Lord Kusanali, here we go…"

Upon Welt's intervention, every piece started to fit together. The explanation was a frustratingly simple but difficult truth. (Y/n) (L/n) was not just one entity in the vast universe— there are inevitable variations.

The two eventually calmed down as they heard both sides. Veritas' (Y/n), who Kaveh later refers to as an "expy" as a placeholder name, was a professor— while Kaveh's "delam" was an archeologist. Almost the same, but not a complete copy-paste.

You, however, they are unsure of. No one knows yet if you do carry (Y/n)'s soul or if you're a mere replica. Veritas is working on the hypothesis that you were an adeptal tool who aided in freeing the vigilant yaksha from a malevolent Sumeru God.

But those bits of info doesn't matter in the end. Why?

Because they both love "you" deeply.

And these intelligent men can "learn" how to share.

"Are you not tired? Perhaps it is time I take over. Only a fool would work when completely drained." Dr. Ratio then added. "Does it not fall in my skilled hands to weave such clothing for them now? Even better than mere fabric, I'm willing to handle clay and mold it around their bo—"

"Considering how many fools can also calculate and perhaps wear an asbestos mask as a quirky character trait, it is surprising that the fool in front of me thinks he can show proficiency over a tedious task." Kaveh raised an eyebrow, seething at the thought of Veritas' unfair perverted touch lingering on your body, again.

"I think you are experiencing what is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, as Mister Yang calls it." He added.

Veritas scoffed.

They may be revered both as geniuses in their fields, but they're reduced to kindergarten-like rivals when it comes to you. Their first order of business after another truce was to provide your clothes. Fortunately, Stelle's fashion sense was more unisex than anticipated so you borrowed hers in the meantime.

While you sat on the sofa with the bubbly March 7th, the two started planning your wardrobe. Kaveh returned later on the same evening with the most… floral clothes much to Veritas' dismay.

He missed seeing his version of (Y/n) who wore classic academic styles, not— whatever this was.

"It is mere confidence; no other variable is at play. The fool in question is the artisan responsible for the expeditious sculpting of the aforementioned statue within a singular nocturnal interval. A fact that eludes your appreciation, my less-than-appreciative and unskilled interlocutor."

Kaveh momentarily had the face of a man unpracticed in speech. People often forget that he majored in STEM, not HUMSS. Though he had some essay-based minors in his first & second years, he lacked preparation for Veritas' otherworldly vocabulary. Kaveh would whet his greatsword if Veritas said something bluntly deprecating.

Still, he can't deny that it was through Veritas' handiwork that made your hands as soft as Kaveh wanted them to be. And that secretly pisses him off.

You tilted your head.

Somehow, your creators are arguing again. 

"Are you threatening to rob me of the joys I have toiled nights for just to sate your shortlived desires, Veritas?" Kaveh rebuked him sternly. "I didn't know you were kind of a brat."

"I am only offering a hand. But it's clear that you are projecting onto me."

「You two–. 」

You tried to cut in, but can't utter a word…

"I'm not projecting! I know that once you prove you can make clothes, you'll kick me out of the Express, that's just the kind of man you are! Manipulative, arrogant—"

"And you're insecure. There is no more loathsome creature than a man who does not acknowledge his own hubris and repeats his mistakes."

「Master Veritas, Master Kaveh—. 」

You loathed to watch them fight for another round of meaningless squabbles. Why weren't you blessed with speech?

"Is that so? Do you seriously subscribe to that belief?"

"Why, of course."

"You should listen to better men than yourself, then."

"Oh c'mon, knock it off!!!" March cut in, giving them both a light smack with Veritas' book. "Can't you get along better? Your little darling looks upset!!!"

The two halted. She was right, you weren't comfortable. Veritas cleared his throat awkwardly while Kaveh looked down, both apologetic.

"See, Kaveh? Your persistence caused this."

"How is it MY fault?"

"I'm merely stating that the lack of options is bound to make them uneasy." Veritas deadpanned and handed you an IPC magazine he had been trying to get you to browse. "Why don't you pick to your liking? Don't worry about expenses. I have it covered."

"What?! Do you want them to wear those un-stylish clothes? Please, you just want to have them wear your brand!"

"Don't project your carnal possessiveness as my own." Veritas scoffed. But Kaveh was right. He missed seeing his (Y/n) wear his lab coat.

"Oh really?! Fine then! Let's ask (Y/n) what they really think!"

March sighed. "Guys, I think you're forgetting that you're fighting over clothes—"

But they didn't hear her. Nothing else mattered to those two except you. And you alone.

Their partner.

Their heart.

Their reason for living.

Hence, they yelled in unison.

"Who do you prefer, assistant? Him or me?!"

"Who do you prefer, delam? Him or me?!"

Taglist: @vennnnn-diagram, @meimeimeirin, @korianne, @prophecy-harmony, @shellofthewell, @sagekun,

[idkfitememate]

We need more boar and venti fluff

They gotta be chaotic besties

Or chaotic rivals

Like all venti sees is boar creator loving saying this:

Venti vs. Boar..?

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader vs. Venti/Barbatos

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.8k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : CRACK CRACK CRACK, tiny bit of angst ???, fluff :3

Barbatos was a benevolent god.

He was the god of freedom for Archon’s sake! His entire deal was allowing these people the will and right to choose to live their lives however they pleased with no judgement from him or anyone.

And yet, here he was absolutely hating the free will of a single Boar.

Now it wasn’t like he wasn’t amazed at all the way the Boar found to terrorize his people, but the animosity came from the fact that the Boar targeted him out of everyone.

Like why??? What did he do to them??? He just fucking existed and the Boar decided he would be the perfect victim.

Which was ironic, he guessed. He, a God, was being bested by a Boar.

Venti sneezed for the one hundredth time as he combed the cat hair off his clothes and out his own hair, sighing and subsequently coughing afterwards.

All because of that damned Boar.

And Venti didn’t swear a lot so you know he means business.

Just recently the Boar had surprised him with a tree full of cats, which was awful, naturally. Why and how this Boar knew his weaknesses he would not know, but Venti was tired.

He wanted to know the Boar’s weaknesses, anything really, just to get back in some kind of way. His people loved the thing, but as time continued, he really didn’t feel too much.

Annoyance? Yeah. A tiny bit of anger? Yeah that too. But any real kind of rage?.. No.

Every time he tried to will any kind legitimate rage or true anger towards the animal, he just couldn’t. The faint memory of the Boar sleeping next to him under a tree never fully faded from his mind.

Barbara’s fan club was slowly dissipating because of them. Which was nice, amazing for her. Jean was finding more time to relax due to them taking Klee out of the city for a while to do… whatever they did, again amazing of everyone really. Everyone seemed to be benefiting by the Boar’s presence in one way or another, besides Venti.

He just couldn’t understand it! Why? What did he do in order to piss this Boar off so bad, that it would try to fight him at every given moment. He was tired of it.

Hoping down from the tree he was currently residing in, Venti slowly made his way into town, taking off his hat and ruffling his hair, plopping it back on haphazardly and yawning. As soon as the gates of Mondstadt came into view, Venti stopped and slapped his cheeks lightly, taking a deep breath and dawning his signature grin, nearly skipping into the city.

He greeted children and slowly made his way to the bar, but was stopped by shouting down an alley. Looking around and noting no one nearby, Venti leaned back and took a look. There, he found, was his enemy, The Boar. And by the looks of it, one of Barbara’s fan club members.

Venti honestly almost snickered at the sight of this full grown man down on his ass by a very angry Boar. Every attempt to rise back up was met with hooves to the face and legs - and even once the poor man’s balls R.I.P. - and all he could do was moan and groan some shit about having to go see her, a comment that would be met with a head but.

For a few minutes it was funny, watching you beat the shit out of that man, but it very quickly and very suddenly escalated. The man, despite all the pain he should’ve been in, shoved you off. You were disoriented for a second, but quickly jumped back up to beat the shit out of him, but he - the mad man he was - whipped out a switchblade.

Venti’s eyes widened, taking a step forward to help, but instead was met with a harsh gust of wind. His eyes shut from shock, only opening after putting hands in front of his eyes. You, the Boar, was blowing on the man, pressing him against the back wall of the alley.

After pressing him there for sometime, you dropped him, smoke billowing from your snout, you stepped forward and opened wide, revealing flame licking the back of your throat.

The man screamed, the blade long forgotten as he jumped up and ran, shoving past Venti and into the streets.

Venti turned to look at you, you who had your chest puffed up in pride and glee. You both stared at each other for a moment, before you scuttled away, darting out the alleyway and into the city.

Venti tugged on one of his braids, eyes glancing back over at the alley. With a new pep in his step, Venti walked back into the sun, out of the alleys.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍯🍡୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Drinking was a long-time acquaintance to Venti, something he knew would never leave him even as the sands of time continued to flow.

He’d never be one to admit why he drank, and with the looks he’d get from Master Diluc and other patrons, he didn’t think he’d ever admit it. To himself, or anyone.

The bard had just been kicked out on his ass, Diluc staring worriedly yet disappointedly at the man, musing something about going home and sleeping this off. Venti shrugged with a giggle and shambled off into the darkened streets.

The tipsy man sang drunkenly, old sea shanties and bar songs bouncing off the silent streets, making it seem as though there were a thousand men singing with him. With each passing breath he grew louder, though if anyone was awake at the time, no one tried to silence him.

Venti wobbled his way closer to the entrance of Mondstadt to go off to his favorite tree to nap, cape half-hung around his shoulders and top buttons of his shirt undone.

He was stopped abruptly by a hand dragging him down another alleyway. What was with him and alleys today?? He was slammed against the back wall, a hand unceremoniously slamming over his lips, finally silencing the rambled singing.

Now he wasn’t scared, the god in a man’s body knew very well that no matter what he’d be fine. His real… concern(??) was in the fact that someone even had the gall to do something like this. Not to say Mondstadt didn’t see any crime of course it was usually just… regulated.

Venti looked up to the man who had the nerve and - yep - it was a Fatui member. The grunt was shaking, breath puffing out into the cool night air. His lips were trembling as he huffed, eyes darting between Venti and some invisible force beyond the alley. Just as Venti was about to speak up, the Fatui member beat him to it.

“Listen, we don’t have much time but I can’t risk it finding me-“ He cut himself off, flinching at the sound of something falling over, looking over to find a cat next to a fallen flower pot. He sighed and sniffled, stiffening up again to look down at Venti.

“Just keep your mouth shut, okay? No more singin’, no more nothin’. Just be quiet and let me slip away-“ This time, he was interrupted by flame dancing across the walls of the alley, licking him and Venti.

The man screamed, tears suddenly pouring from the eyeholes of his mask as he ran through the alley towards the other end, only to be blocked by a wall of Geo. He sobbed louder, slamming his fists against the wall in hopes of anything happening.

Venti stared at the pathetic display, drunken mind still comprehending the literal man-child before him who had by this point slid onto the floor with his face in the dirt, sobbing into the ground.

Venti looked back up at the sound of small hooves trotting along, coming into view was you. Despite your trotting, your face read nothing but rage to the short god, and all he could do was shiver and let you pass him by. Even when dealing with all your pranks you never looked at him like… that.

There was something in your eyes he couldn’t read, power radiating off you like a rushing river. He almost fell to his knees.

Finally you made it to the whimpering Fatui grunt, who was now on his knees and shaking like a leaf. Your little trot came to a stop as you stepped closer to the quivering mess of a man before you both. You snorted in disgust and flicked him with your front hoof, making him squeal like a child.

He jumped onto his ass and pressed his back at the wall, kicking at you as you oinked in annoyance. Venti could only watch, having sobered up a bit by this point. Sure, it was obvious that you saving him - even if he could’ve done it himself - was a byproduct of you already being on the Fatui members ass, but it was the mere fact that you did.

There was an understand between you both, unspoken, that you each knew the other was non-human. Venti had a damn good idea that you knew he was Barbatos, but to you… he wasn’t entirely sure. Evidently you were different, he’d be a fool to not see that, but he genuinely couldn’t place it.

Venti was thrown from his train of thought when the Fatui member flew over his head, screaming. He landed with a thud and scurried off, screaming. Both you and Venti watched, you huffing with pride.

You glanced up at Venti and snorted, and began trotting off.

“… Wait!” Venti’s voice called out. You stopped and turned, looking at the bard with interest. He took a few cautious steps towards you which would’ve been offensive… if you hadn’t deserved it.

When he got close enough, you sat down which made him flinch. You snort-chuckled and he clicked his tongue. Finally he stood before you, staring down at you as you awaited why he stopped you.

“… Why?” The question startled you. You tilted your head and he sighed.

“Why do you hate me so much? Why do you seem to despise me out of everyone?” Your eyes widened before you huffed, turning away, eyes downcast.

Venti sighed before kneeling, and with a hesitating, shaking hand, he ran his fingers through your hair, brushing his nails over your scalp. After a beat, you leaned into the touch.

“I don’t know why, but I’m tired of fighting you. Small truce, just for a while?” You hummed, tail starting to wag as he pet your head. The wall of geo fell behind you both and a nice breeze blew in, cooling Venti’s face and bringing a smile to his lips.

“Thank you, Wild Boar.”

You snorted.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : No because that ending tho I’m so tired LMAO-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

murder daddy vs. lawyer daddy. Knives out (2019) vs. Defending Jacob (2020)//

My weaknesses. Not to mention the hands on their hips like daddies about to scolding you 😩 I mean where do I sign up.

Just a thot...

Back to Black

Warnings: allusions to abuse and coercion, along with other untagged dark elements.

Summary: You get a lecture after you try to make a break for it.

Note: as usual, your thoughts are welcome. I'm kinda piddling around with these today but I hope you enjoy. Reblog and comment if you so kindly like.

You can still smell the smoke. You taste it too. The jarring impact replays in your head as the loud crush of metal echoes over and over. Your car spinning out, crashing into the barrier, flipping over the other side. All you saw were headlights, round and white. The Beemer. 

Your eyes snap open again. Your skull throbs as the familiar scent of bergamot and citrus stains your nostrils. The aroma brings thoughts of wool and brick. It is the smell of the Thrombey stronghold. Of your prison. 

Your eyes slit as ribs ache. You cough as you take a deep breath. There’s a scuff and a groan. The creak of wood, old furniture, inherited. Footsteps and a door, voices in a low rumble from down the hall. 

You let your lashes droop and remain as you are. A downy pillow under your head and a heavy quilt draped over laundered linen over your body. You have no energy or strength. 

“She’s awake,” Ransom snarls as he stomps into the room. “Hey,” he kicks the footboard, “none of the play shit, you little bitch. That’s not going to work on me again.” 

“Woah,” Andy calmly girds the other’s temper. “Honey.” 

You know he’s talking to you. That’s what he always calls you. That pet name. That false beacon of kindness. How could you fall for it. 

“Honey,” he drags out the word the second time. A warning. 

You open your eyes. His hands are on his hips. That stance holds so much; frustration, disappointment, anger... danger. 

“How are you feeling? That was quite the joyride you had.” 

You could laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like knives. Your head lolls. Arguing is useless. You realised that long ago. It’s why you tried to run. 

“Reckless. Stupid,” Andy continues on. 

Your eyes drift over to Ransom as he shifts to mimic Andy’s posture. It isn’t quite as effective. He pushes back his grey sweater to grip his hips, looking more petulant than intimidating. 

“Where were you off to, anyway?” Andy tilts his head. 

He’s playing with you. That’s what he does. He’s a prosecutor. He’s a cat with a mouse. He’ll bat you around until you squeak like he wants. 

“Packed a whole damn bag and everything? You going to visit family? An impromptu vacation?” He continues. 

“Stop,” you croak. 

“Stop,” he scoffs, “I don’t like liars, honey, and I know you’re not a liar. So why the fuck did you take my car?” 

His tone is iron. You flinch. He knows. He just wants you to say it. 

“You know--” you begin. 

“Fucking brat,” Ransom mutters. Andy taps his chest, holding up a finger, then points at you. 

You heave in exasperation and it makes you whine and hug your torso. Something’s broken. Several something’s at least. 

“Because... I was leaving you,” you sneer as you close your eyes. “But you win. The both of you.” You wheeze and cough. “You always fucking win.” 

Andy clucks, “now, honey, you know I don’t like when you swear.” There’s a subtle crack, you can see it without looking. Him tilting his head until his neck cracks. Then he bends his knuckles until they do the same; criiiick. “Ransom, go get the soap. Looks like we need to go back to basics.” 

[beryllineart]

The Cost of Mercy

This is my 100th post, I wanted to do something special and I liked this idea. It was not originally going to be this long. (20 pages! Wow!)

Because this took me half a month to create, I think I'll probably do a little "making of" post just to discuss how the end result differed from my original plans for this comic. I wish I could say I have a backlog of art to post, but I don't, and this comic might have given me burnout.

Ughhhh, my stupid brain has been telling me non-stop how "talentless" I am and how all of my drawings look terrible and that made making this comic an uphill battle. But I did it, and I hope that eventually I can feel proud of it. In the meantime, I think I need to do a couple of art tutorials so my brain actually acknowledges that I've been improving.

(Update: took a break between page 10 and 11 which improved my mental state, I still feel it's important to acknowledge that time of low self esteem and how I pushed through it. Also, I learned what a pen stabilizer was on page 12.)

I deserve a small ramble about this comic, right? Actually, it's pretty much as long as the comic itself, so you have been warned.

Yeah, so, this was inspired by my Susie vs. Lancer comic. In that, Susie does not admit her vulnerability to herself in time and that leads to her making a mistake she regrets. I wanted to show Asriel showing false vulnerability (my headcanon of him being an actor coming into play here) and creating a betrayal similar to Susie's, only this one was on purpose.

"But Beryll," I hear you say, "doesn't Asriel think Frisk is Chara? Why on earth would Asriel kill his best friend?" Well, besides the fact that a) Asriel is both a god of hyperdeath and a LV 9999 maniac b) he's already killed Frisk dozens of times in this battle alone and c) the image of black silhouettes on a red background with a glowing white sword is too cool to pass up, I have a little interaction I couldn't fit in the comic that should explain things.

That's my way of reconciling the whole "I thought you were Chara" thing when Chara and Frisk do not physically look alike at all. Remember, Flowey's genocide dialogue in the Ruins says, "I have a plan to become all powerful. Even more powerful than you and your stolen soul." Meaning that he knows this human physically is not Chara come back to life, but something in their mannerisms or something is so similar to Chara that Flowey convinces himself that they are. And in this comic, Asriel was so desperate for Chara to remember him that he takes Frisk's soul for himself, in the hopes that when they are reunited Chara will come back as well. (And he had to get up close and personal because of the soul's annoying tendency to crack before he can take it, also, glowing white sword. That's why I don't show the heart as broken on page 4, even though that would give the off the "dead" vibes more clearly.)

And now we come to the part where he says, "Hey, remember that time you wanted to kill all of those humans? Want to try again?" I think Flowey has been holding on to the whole "kill or be killed" mentality because he thinks it was his fault that he and Chara died. He fears being weak and being a coward, which is why he became a sadistic LV 9999 psychopath. Again, the whole acting headcanon thing that I rambled about in a different post.

Asriel's last memories of being with Chara are of feeling Chara's anger towards the humans, and when they finally reunite, he can't accept that, as a ghost, Chara learned to let go of that anger, having realized their own mistakes and realizing that it was their anger that got them into trouble. But Asriel has been holding on to that anger that wasn't even his own, all because he believes that it was his fault that they both died, since he fought against that anger.

So yeah, Asriel and Flowey's strongest emotions are actually guilt. Flowey's got a bit of survivor's guilt because he was brought back, albeit as a flower. But most of the guilt comes from convincing himself that it was his fault he and Chara died. That guilt causes him to reject all of the positive emotions that come his way and hold on to the hurt for so long that he hardly realizes it's there, causing that empty feeling that he thinks is a lack of emotions. But if he ever managed to actually let go of his guilt, he would realize that he actually can feel emotions. I have never believed that soulless = emotionless, given the way Flowey acts.

I just want to say, when Asriel resets in this comic, I'm definitely imagining a thing like when Majora's Mask Link plays the Song of Time, where all of the souls are leaving him like Link's items leave as he falls through the void, finally waking up as Flowey. Also, from a mechanics standpoint, Asriel has access to several save files when he's got Frisk's soul. He can reset to the moments after he got Frisk's soul, to when Frisk took away his control over resets, and to when he was first brought back as Flowey. He can't go further back than that because he can't go back to a time he didn't have that power. The only reason he can go back further than the moment he stole Frisk's soul is because of the enormous amounts of determination from all of the souls he has, both monster and human.

Okay, now I want to talk about the ending of the comic. All sweet and nice because Flowey's finally learning to let go of some of the things that made him evil and mean, right? I'm writing this ramble halfway through drawing the comic, so I'm assuming how that ends. (Also, if it's not clear, Frisk has forgotten their entire time in the Underground before. To them, this is the first time they've been down here.)

Well, that leads me to wonder, how will Flowey act since he has decided to be nice and stuff? Honestly, I don't know how the boss battles would go, but I think he and Frisk would develop a genuine friendship. He would hang around places he's pretty sure have save points, maybe give some tips and share a joke or two. Basically, imagine something like what he does for Clover in Undertale Yellow.

But, because we can't have happy Flowey, let's give him a new source of guilt. Now, Flowey lives in fear of Frisk finding out what he did, how he preyed on their sympathy just so he could kill them and steal their soul. He's been acting nice now, and enjoying their friendship, but he can't convince himself to fully commit to it (acting headcanon mention three) because he's afraid he might lose that friendship. Which is why, when Frisk chooses to hug and forgive Asriel, he refuses both, since he remembers what happened last time they hugged (on page 4) and he doesn't feel he deserves forgiveness when they don't even remember the truly horrible things he did. (Again, I'm not completely sure what the boss battles would have been like.) <Actually, I've taken a few days since writing this ramble and have figured it out but will discuss it in a future post.

But Frisk is a determined kid, and after they watch the sunset with everybody (and decide to live with Toriel of course) they go all the way back to the Ruins where this happens.

I hope you are noticing the parallels between Frisk and Chara that help defend Flowey/Asriel's confusion, because I worked hard on integrating that. They are very much alike.

So, that's the end of my ramble. I guess a long comic needs a long ramble, huh? Despite my brain's attempts to convince me otherwise, I actually really enjoyed making this comic. If you did read this whole thing, good for you! I'm not the best at explaining these things in an understandable manner, so I know it might have been hard to read.

Also, January 16th is/was Appreciate a Dragon Day. So here's Douglas, who guards my things while I do art. (I did 6 pages today, so Douglas got plenty of work in.)

[tmwcs]

MIND GOING BRR AT THINKING ABOUT HOW SEX WITH HUMAN HEESEUNG AND IMMORTAL YN WENT,did she....act like a succubus or was as clueless as the mortal yn

And it went down exactly like this….

Warnings: Smuuuuuuuuuuuut central here. Y/n gets deceived, y/n is a bad girl, y/n gets it, heeleads swap y/n’s, alternate universe, mention of the word ‘r*pe*, devil baby eating people, unprotected smut, non-con/sub-con smut, heavy noncon smut vibes, time space continuum, time space travel, different worlds, kind of a marvel vs dc vibe. This is an aftermath from the Drabble “Somewhere in Time”.

You stood firm, crossing your arms while doing your best to remain ignorant. Knowing that this wouldn’t end well for you, you braced for impact, expecting for him to grab you from behind and twirl you around. There had been a handful of times that you and Helel had little arguments, but with him being the devil and ultimate powerful, many would deem it pointless to even try and throw a fit. Perhaps you were just too damn stubborn and prideful to submit, even knowing that the white flag would be waved in a moment….he always had his ways.

Facing the side of the mortal realm, you waited for the moment where he’d take you to bed by force. It would be a repeated act where you’re on the bed underneath him, taking in the rape as it slowly progresses to submission. As per usual, he’ll get you to the point where you’ll stop fighting, and beg for more until you can’t take it any longer, in which he’ll have you back to screaming for mercy. What a sicko. But, he IS the devil after all…and you’re married to him.

It all started after you returned home with him. You thought all would be well since a spark arose within you after Helel and his alternate souls rescued you and your own counterparts. For so many years since he’s taken you, you fought physically and emotionally against the idea of accepting his love. But your pride grew weak and you started to fall for him….no doubt it was a result of a disorder enforced by his own method. Anyone suppressed by a kind captor will eventually fall for them.

Upon the return to Hell from the most recent endeavor, you grew angry in seeing baby Helan sitting there, tearing the pieces of mortal flesh. You stood in total shock as the toddler tone of “mommy! Mommy!” Came out from those bloody lips. The red stain smeared his face and clothes as he sat there reaching up, closing and opening his fingers enthusiastically, waiting for you to pick him up. There were bits and pieces of limbs, fingers, organs and all sorts of fleshy parts you refused to look at. That innocent smile on your child’s face was a facade; behind it was pure malice and grotesque evil, enabled by his father.

“W-what-…!!” You stutter as you trembled, falling to your knees as your baby rushed over and hugged you. “Mommy! I missed you!”

Your eyes remained wide in horror while your hands stayed glued to the stone floor, you couldn’t think or react, not even to return the embrace of your own child.

Later that evening, you spoke to Helel about it begrudgingly.

“I thought we had an agreement that I don’t want Helan to do things like that.”

Helel scoffed as he finished sipping on his wine glass. A faint gulp slides down as he sides-eye you. Placing it down on the table, he reaches and began loosening his collard tie, smirking an adoring look over to you. “It was hardly an agreement. You mentioned your complaints and I listened.”

Here we go. This is the part that of which you hate. “Darling, he’s a growing boy…and not like the ones from where you originated. He needs flesh and blood in order to grow. Once he reaches a mature age he will be able to live without ever requiring the need for sustenance.”

You shook your head. “No…no I don’t like that. There has to be another way. I don’t want my baby to do monstrous things.”

He looks you over. “You? The Goddess of Hell—“

“HE’S MY BABY TOO!” You yelled, fierce anger in your eyes as you sphered them in his direction. His affectionate smile slowly starts to fade and his hand drops as he releases his tie. With a raise of a brow, his eyes wide and you knew, you crossed the line. A

He slowly walks over calmly, surprisingly. Whenever he was upset with you he’d immediately became forceful, teaching you a lesson while reiterating how much he loved you, and that it was all for your own good. But this time, he truly was pissed off. Not that you were justifying him, but a slight bit of you could understand his position. Your son is the offspring of the Devil after all, and the latter had just went through Heaven and Hell, visiting multiple worlds in gathering a league to save you and all versions of you. In his eyes, you were coming off as ungrateful.

His silence was more frightening than anything. He stood, watching as you tucked your chin and stared at the ground in shame. He peers down his outstanding height and just looks at you….sternly, with rage. What was more unusual was that he merely took a piece of your hair, and rubbed it together. He was being so tender and gentle, despite his eyes violating you through every hole in your body.

He sighs. “Bad girl.” Was all he barely whispers with a slight deep tone.

You shook as the shive stabbed your spine. You were going to get it this time.

“I-I—“ he cuts you off as he places a finger over your lips. “Shhhh…don’t fucking speak.”

You trembled. “Go to the bed, and stay there.”

You did as he demanded and tucked yourself away under the velvet bedding. He was being odd and handing this situation differently. God, it scared you so much.

He quietly leaves the room. You knew better than to try and follow or leave. The man has eyes and ears everywhere; it is Hell after all.

You were so scared that the fear took an emotional strain out of you, exhausting you. You drifted off to sleep immediately, unaware of what was coming.

………

“Geez, what is it now? Why are you here?”

“Ah—collecting the savoring morsels for your lovely girl, are we?”

“Isn’t there a lovely girl of your own that you should be feeding?”

“Precisely why I’m here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Helel grins as he converses with his identical alternate.

“Be truthful. You love her.”

“Duh.”

“You love her so much that you also adore ALL flavors of her…don’t you?”

……

Heeseung stares sternly at his Devil counterpart. “Is there a point to this?”

“I am saying, o’hostile college-pretty-boy, that you and I are same. We love and kill for our brides. We are the only ones that love and care for them…all of them.” Helel crosses his arms. “You’re not the type to share…but is it really sharing if it is…you? “

Heeseung’s eyes sparked in rage, yet the devil continued. “And don’t you…want to experience your pretty baby in a different light?”

His counterpart calmed down. There wasn’t any denying the fact that the moment he saw you…other versions of you, his mind went wild. For you, he lives and breathes; it was blissful to have you in his life…what could be better than to have multiple duplicates of his precious girl?

“If we do this, just know that I’m not going to be restricted by any means. If I’m fucking my girl, regardless if it’s an alternate variant of her, I’m going all in.”

Helel smirks. “Relatable.”

“I can take who’s next.” The cashier spoke as the two remained facing each other. Both flaring a deadly smile.

……………..

You woke up, still in bed. Helel didn’t come back? Was he really that angry? What was he doing? This was too terrifying to deal with. You can’t believe you were saying this but in a sense, you’d wish he’d just rape and fuck your brains out already. At least you’d find some pleasure and resolvement from it….but this…this sense of unknowing his intentions was too dangerous. He always says he’d love you too much but is there a line that even YOU cannot cross with the Devil?

The e door gently opens, and you hear the foot steps walk around the large platform bed frame. “Helel?”

“Mmhmm.”

He walks over, and doesn’t say anything more as he moves his fingers, signaling for you to crawl closer towards the edge of the bed. He had a soft smirk. It was strange, though. His aura seemed off-putting. Your senses could feel there was something different but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Abiding by his non-verbal signal, you crawl over on all fours and allowed those two fingers to caress your chin. “You’ve been a bad girl?”

He spoke in an inquired tone. You assumed it was him being antagonizing in his demeanor, since you recognized the signs of sexual tension rising. “Yes…I’ve been bad..” you softly responded. You knew what he wanted to hear. You knew that he intended to punish you.

“Well, let’s do something about that.” He sighs out, leaning down as he grips your jawline. His elegant attire of black satin and white chiffon just made him so classy and irresistible. He kisses you, and to your surprise it was warm and tender. “Take it off.” He whispers, staring into your eye with an aloof but soft expression.

You began shedding off your undergarments, leaving just the garter and thigh high, damask stockings in place. “Good. Now take mine off.”

You undress him, beginning with his tie. Once you got the undershirt unbuttoned, he slowly pushed your head down, dragging your cheek against his entire abdominal muscles. You took the hint and undid his trousers, reaching to release his throbbing muscle; and it was throbbing. It was breathing to you.

“Put that bad little mouth on it.”

His voice was smooth and airy. Deep and dark. God, this man was so fine. Why the hell did you yell at him in the first place?

You lavished his cock with your saliva. Smoothing the moisture up and down, you dragged your tongue and traced every bit of vein and inch of it. He grits his teeth, enjoying this so much more than you expected. He slaps his hands on your arms as he flings you on your back. You yelped from the sudden change of motion as the level of force you recognized started to appear. Here it is…here is what you were both, dreading and looking forward to.

“H-Helel…” you whispered. “Wrong name baby.” He responded back as he kisses you, shoving his hand in between your thighs. You gasped out into his mouth. “Heeseung! Heeseung!”

It wasn’t odd to you, after all he went by both his original title and the name he adopted, the one that his brothers often called him by. Normally, however, during his deliverance of his punishments, he’d force you to call him Helel. But it seems he may have cooled off and wasn’t as angry anymore.

“Heeseung!” You gasped as he ravished your breasts with his tongue. This was all enough to get you ovulating, you swore to yourself.

“Come here…bad girl.”

You nod as he started to incorporate more force, aggression, and roughness as he lines himself to your center, all while placing one thigh on his hip as the other rested against his bicep, extending the leg up and over his shoulder. You were left wide open for him to take you…

He slides in, slowly. Sloooooooowly.

“Ah!! Heeseung!” You yell, gasping for air as your pants increases. He makes you watch as he continues to go in…slowly. When he finally was all in, he grinds his balls against your taint as he leans forward and fully hovers above you. “Let’s fuck the bad out and full you with some goodness.”

You furrow your brows in worry as you await for the ultimate pounding to occur. Fuck he is going to ruin you.

He slides out, the relief of the tight fullness dissipates as he gets all but the tip out, when suddenly….

“AHHH!!! FFFFUCK!!! SSSSTOP!!”

You can’t recall him ever going this brutal, it was as if he was starving for you. The only time you ever felt him this needy was when he took you for the first time. Thrusting, pounding, and reaching depths of your interior that was enough to make you drool and pass out, you lay mercilessly and took every bit of his thunder.

“Yeah? Fucking beg! Bad fucking girl, come on! Beg!” He grits out as the beads of sweat start to form on every inch of his smooth skin.

Screaming, crying, and panting, he gets you dumb-fucked until finally you reach that peak that took time to build up. Through all the pain and rough aggression, it finally pushed through and to his pleasure, you begged for him to keep going.

“Oh please! Please…don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop…fffffucking me!”

He smirks as he picks up the pace and goes faster. Your body bounces rigorously against the bedsheets as he slams into you. What a delightful scene it was to see you helplessly taking his cock and shifting in wild motion as he pumps you repeatedly. In fact, you were bouncing so much from the impact, he had to hold you by the neck to hold you steady as he enhanced momentum.

Gritting his teeth and flinging his head back, you watched as his naked body knelt before twitches while he releases. “Fuck!”

He pulsates and fills you, and for a moment the softness that came after had you thinking he was done…but he wasn’t.

The tightening of his grip around your neck said otherwise. His hips regain the thrusting motion, starting off slow and picking up pace. “Heeseung…no!” You gasp as the pleasure remained but the pain was starting to sting.

For who knows how long, he pelted you over and over again. Words in between of “let me enjoy this…” were harshly whispered into your ear as he changed positions and flipped you over, turn you onto your side, and even had you on top, while he still carried the rhythm and controlled the movements. Fucked left, right, up, and down, you realized that he was indeed punishing you as he went beyond in delivering overstimulation and pain.

By the time he released for the sixth or seventh time, you begged with barely any air in your lungs. “N-no more….p-ppplease….”

Your body was lifeless as he catches his breath. “Fuck that was better than I imagined.”

He quickly dresses, still somewhat sweaty which was surprising, considering he never really eluded such human traits. “I…I’m sssso-rry…sorry…”

You barely got it out of you but you managed to apologize, hoping that he would allow you to rest fully tonight. “Aw baby.” He whispers as he leans in and kisses you. His hand grabs hold of yours and he interlocks your fingers together as he massages the back of your palm. Breaking the kiss, he tells you…

“I’ll let him know. Wish I could stay, but I gotta get back to you.”

What?……

You didn’t have the energy to respond, but it suddenly clicked. The change in his aura, the sweat beads, and the way he ferociously fucked you with starved hunger in his eyes.

“H-Heeseung…” you gently spoke out as you recognized the figure from the incident. The one who belonged to the youngest version of your being. You watched as he smirked. “Wrong name baby.”

You looked him from the side as your hair is messily plastered to your face, and your body drained. You couldn’t even form the confused expression in your eye as he spoke his words. He smiled and there, you witnessed one inhuman trait among this man. His eyes darken, his grin becomes sinisterly devious as he bites down his bottom lip. “Be sure to name one of the kids after me. Little Ethan has a ring to it.”

He kisses you once more and takes his leave.

Moments later, he comes in…Helel. With an offensive smirk, he notes your exhausted body. You barely could move as you moaned, struggling to regain composure. Standing side the bed, you heard the disheveling spill of cloth as he sheds off his attire, piece by piece. You felt his hand grab you waist as he turns you fully over to your back as he crawls on top of you. Gently wiping the pieces of sweaty stands from your forehead, he admires your face as his fingers tap against your cheek and the corner of your lips.

Oh no….

“Now, let’s hear that apology, hm?” He smirks against your ear as he lines the tip to your worn and beaten entrance. “Let’s hear how sorry you REEEEEAALLY are.”

“Nnngh….nnmph!” You moaned as you struggled to gain a breath in, he’s pushing into you. Your legs begin to shiver and your spine jolts from the hypersensitivity levels that radiates from your core. “Now that I had some time to blow off some steam, I figure this is more than an appropriate time for you to show daddy how you’re going to make up for your mistake, hm? Let’s turn you back into a good girl again.”

The worst and best night of your entire afterlife. Two of the same men pile-driving you. So this is why he was so calm earlier…what a devious man he was. You knew you had already lost, and you were about to lose even more. Since that’s the case, you thought it be fitting to get a word in, knowing he wasn’t going to go easy, despite his demeanor.

“Ethan…”

“Pardon?” He widened his eyes as he lifts a stern brow. “N-next child….i brrrring in…name is…E-Ethan…”

He smirks. “Ah…Ethan. Right.” Kissing you, he pulls away as he pinches your chin. “If it’s a bunch of heathens you want, no problem. I can give you loads of them.” He snaps his fingers.

You saw them walk in. The sight put your breath on hold and caused your eyes to sting in despair as you watched each fine, nude form stand around the bed, stroking their cocks at the sight of you. “How about a godly descendant, a pair of twins, and a nations most wanted? Sounds like you’re eager to be a mommy again, and you know I aim to please you…darling.”

With a dark chuckle, he spoke as the others closed in.

“Let’s fuck her boys.”

No…NO! NOO!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Fin

Taglist: @enheene , aiden2001 , @heeseung-min , @lathan1510 , @rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @lisaaannna @en-geneisaxx