#I've lost everything every single time I've ever tried and the more i keep trying at anything the more i fail and harm others

[scarletcomet]

scrolling through instagram and it's making me want to die

[our-inspire-verse]

How the fuck am i supposed to recieve comfort or tell myself im not a horrible fucking EVERYTHING when literally i do nothing but cause harm. How the fuck is a perpetrator of harm supposed to be consoled? Im that fucking horrible huh

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 26

Word Count: 4.0K Paring:  Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Requested by @elizabeth916: "Supernatural" Prompt @kinktober2023: Masturbation WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), slight voyeurism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, joint masturbation

Summary: After a hard life and a close brush with death via vampire, (Y/N) is taken in by Bobby Singer and taught the way of the hunters, even if that was the last thing he wanted for her. Add Dean and Sam Winchester into the mix, and she's more involved in the hunter lifestyle than before. Now, Dean is always always at odds with the girl. Even if he was the one who asked her to join them, he's always the one getting in her way. Sam says it's because he's in love with her. (Y/N) just thinks he's stubborn. One way or another, she's gonna find out they're both kind of right.

A/N: whoop, still doing this, I will try to finish before this october 🫣🫣 I've only gotten to season 5 of Supernatural so sorry this isn't more canon-centric

MASTERLIST

Constantly being on the road provided little privacy. Being the only girl in a team of hunters made it harder to have some. Being the only girl in a team of hunters that were brothers made it nearly impossible to have any. 

But (Y/N) couldn’t complain. The Winchesters were the closest thing she had to a family, and they needed her help. 

She had lost her parents at a young age and had made a life for herself as best as she could. She was sent from foster home to foster home until, at eighteen, she met Bobby Singer by chance during one of his hunts. 

A couple of days before, she had been kidnapped by a young vampire as she walked from work and took her back to his nest, where she was fed upon from the moment she arrived. She believed she’d die there with nothing to show for her life other than a rundown apartment and a shitty waitressing job. 

But just as everything had seemed bleak, Bobby had come in swinging a machete around and killed every single one of the vampires that had resided in the abandoned warehouse. Seeing the girl who was barely clinging to life, the man took her back to his motel and waited until she had regained consciousness. 

He was sure she would scream, try to run away, or even hit him. Yet all she did was flutter her eyes open and thank him. She wasn’t afraid, nor was she angry. She had simply accepted what had happened to her as something else she had to deal with. 

“You really ain’t scared of everything I just told you?” he had asked her that night as they ate some burgers. “I mean, I just told you that you almost died because of vampires, and you were more surprised that they put pickles in your burger.” 

“I’ve dealt with worse shit in my life to find the supernatural unbelievable,” she shrugged. “With how my life goes, dying from a vampire is the least of my worries.” 

Bobby had only met one other teenager as nonchalant and used to peril, and he had not been able to help him as much as he wanted to. But he knew he would always regret if he left (Y/N) to her own devices after meeting her. So, Bobby offered her a chance at a different life. Going against everything he had ever believed, he offered her a room at his place and a new job. And she said yes. 

That answer had changed her entire existence. 

(Y/N) took to the hunting lifestyle rapidly, finding it easier than being an eighteen-year-old girl living by herself in a sketchy part of town. She invested all her time and energy to get stronger and faster, wanting nothing more than to become better and better.

Bobby tried his best to keep her life balanced, especially after seeing what the hunting life had done to John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam. For years, he pushed her to have a social life and do things normal young people would. Still, he couldn’t squander her determination. So, when Dean called her up one day to help him and his brother find their father, she quickly agreed, much to Bobby’s dismay. 

But once her mind was set on something, there wasn't much he could do; all he could do was hope she’d one day come back safe and sound. 

And that was the day she had lost all sense of privacy. The trio jumped from motel to motel, and there was not enough money for two rooms. Thankfully, there always were two beds and sometimes a rickety couch, not that it helped the choking sexual tension between (Y/N) and the older Winchester. 

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between them. Sure, Dean flirted with anything that walked on two legs, but it was different with (Y/N). He wanted much more than just a one-night lay with her. He wanted the entire package–the apple pie life he’d dreamed of. 

But he wanted something different for her—something better than what he could offer. Like Bobby, he didn’t want her involved in the hunting business. He had even begged Bobby not to let her go. But Sam was right. If they had any chance of finding their father, it would have been with her by their side. Just because he had agreed to let her tag along did not mean he didn’t worry whenever they were on a mission. If he wasn’t making sure that Sam wasn’t hurt, he was worried that (Y/N) was, and more often than not, his concern came out more like hostility rather than worry. 

Much like their latest case. The three of them were sat at a diner, a giant breakfast spread on the table before them, and the only one eating was Dean. (Y/N) and Sam had their noses buried in books and laptops, trying to gather all information they could about a particular nest of vampires that had made their home in a small town outside of Detroit. 

The case was particularly personal for (Y/N). The vamps that had been running amok the town had been the same ones that had almost taken her life many years before. Just like Bobby had told her, they left an item of the person they abducted with a star drawn in their blood at the place they were taken from. The creatures looked for easy targets and always hunted in the darkest corners of the night. 

Now, (Y/N) had a plan to get to their nest, but it seemed she was the only one who thought it was a good one. “I’m just saying that it’s worth a try,” she whispered as she sipped her coffee. “I can make myself a target, and they’ll think it’s fucking divine intervention that they got the one that got away. Then you guys can follow and kill them all. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.” 

“Are you fucking serious, (Y/N)?” Dean seethed. “They could kill you on the spot. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now that could actually end this,” she countered. “Even Sam thinks that it’s good.” 

“All I said was that it could technically work,” the younger Winchester defended. “But I also agree with Dean that it’s too dangerous.” 

“I don’t care if I get hurt as long as we get them.” 

“It’s not about you getting hurt, (Y/N),” Dean spat, slamming what was left of his sandwich onto the plate. “It’s about you fucking dying.” 

“Well, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she countered with the same anger. “It’s my life we’re talking about here, Dean. Not yours.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he got up, grabbing his jacket in the process. “I’ll be in the room. I need to cool off.” 

Sam and (Y/N) watched as the older Winchester left the diner, a cloud of steam almost visible in his step. It wasn’t the first time he had stormed out that way; it was his standard practice when things weren’t going according to his plan. But that moment, in particular, felt different. The energy was different. 

“Okay, he needs to get over himself,” the girl muttered as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. “You guys cannot be the only ones allowed to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. I know I can get hurt. I signed up for this job just like you guys did.” 

“I don’t know who’s more oblivious,” Sam snickered as he popped a slice of bacon in his mouth. “You seriously don’t understand why he acts like that with you?” 

“Because he’s a total douche with a god-complex?” 

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “Because he likes you and cares about what happens to you.” 

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We’ve been through this before,” (Y/N) said. “The only things Dean Winchester cares about are his car and you. I don’t even fall in the top five.” 

“Jesus, you’re both just so stubborn,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go talk to him, and then tell me if he doesn’t care.”

“He’s just gonna fight with me.” 

“Go, (Y/N),” Sam exclaimed. “And actually talk to him.” 

“Fine!” the young woman finally relented. “But you’re getting stuck with the research then.” 

“Like that’s ever changed,” he scoffed jokingly. “Now, go.” 

(Y/N) took the short walk back to the motel as slowly as she could, kicking a rock in her step as she fiddled with the key. It wasn’t the first time Sam had hinted at Dean’s supposed feelings for her. It had become his one source of teasing material since they had met for the first time. But she had always taken it as a joke, nothing more—just a quip a little brother used to bother his older brother. There was no way there was any truth to it. And if going to the room proved that, then that was what (Y/N) had to do. 

As she neared the motel, she caught a glimpse of Baby, and a slight chuckle bubbled in her throat. That car was Dean’s one true love, and she knew that. He treated his vehicle better than any of the women he paraded in and out of their motel rooms or even the ones who never made it out of the bars. Hell, he treated it better than her or Sam at times. 

That was the reason she had never admitted her feelings in the almost eight years she had known him. (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t be reciprocated. Dean had never given a single indication that he’d ever share her sentiment. Well, other than Sam’s words. But who could believe him then? 

All she needed was one sign. A simple whisper from the universe that he did share in those feelings. That the reason he fought with her so much was because there were so many emotions bottled up inside him that he couldn’t help how they came out. Just one sign. 

“(Y/N),” she heard an exhale as she neared the motel door. It was raspy and guttural, and she knew it had not come from the wind. “Fuck, (Y/N).” 

She could have been dreaming. In the supernatural world, anything was possible. But the metal doorknob felt too cold in her hand, and the key turned too loudly for it to be her imagination. Behind that door, a scene was unfolding that surpassed her wildest fantasies, and she was the main character without knowing it. 

(Y/N) opened the door slowly, pulling it upward to avoid the whining of the hinges, and she came face-to-face with something she could have only dreamed of. In fact, she was sure she had dreamt it before. 

Dean was splayed in the middle of her bed, his hard cock in one hand and a pair of her underwear in the other. He ran his hand up and down his length, easing his pumping with the leaking precum that stained him. After every few strokes, he’d bring the piece of fabric to his face, taking a long drag before muttering (Y/N)’s name once more. 

His eyes were pressed shut, and his movements were erratic. Dean was close, that much she could tell. She could see it in the way he breathed, in the way his hips stuttered, and the way his skin had grown red and flushed. Dean was reaching his climax with her name spilling from his tongue. 

“So fucking stubborn,” he croaked out as his seed spilled all over his stomach. “(Y/N), fu~uck.” 

“Good to know my underwear didn’t just disappear three months ago,” she grinned as she finally made herself known. “Didn’t take you for a panty sniffer, Deanie.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean exclaimed as he tried his best to cover himself. He pulled the sheets from under himself, pulling too hard and falling to the floor with a loud thud. “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough to know who you were thinking about,” (Y/N) taunted as she approached him. His legs were still on the bed, and his jeans pooled around his ankles while the sheet covered the rest of his body. At any given time, she would have made fun of him; tease him until he begged her to stop. But the heat that pooled between her legs had blurred her mind, and all that she wanted was to replace the hand that was working him. “Something you wanna tell me, Dean?”  

“God, you’re insufferable,” Dean huffed as he tried to get up. “It’s not what you think.” 

“And what do I think, Deanie? What did I just walk into?” 

“I just needed to relieve some stress.” 

“Oh, and do you always relieve your stress thinking of me?” (Y/N) mewled as she knelt down, her breath hot on his skin as she whispered in his ear. He stiffened up at her closeness, trying his best not to touch her. “See what I think, Deanie, is that what Sam’s been telling me is the truth. That you like me and that you care about me. And since daddy never taught you how to express yourself correctly, you just let everything out when you’re angry.” 

Those words ignited a fire in Dean. He no longer cared about his lack of clothing or the situation (Y/N) had caught him in. All he wanted was to regain control. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he growled as he flipped her onto the ground and towered over her. “You think that just because you caught me like this, you know everything now?” 

“I know enough,” she smirked up at him as she fought against his grip. “Matter of fact, I can feel it against my leg right now.” 

“And you think it’s for you? You think you’re the only (Y/N) out there?” 

“I’m the only one you know,” she teased. “And I’m the one whose panties you were sniffing.” 

“It’s just a matter of convenience, (Y/N),” he shrugged. “You’re here. That’s that.” 

“Are you sure, Dean? Because I’ve never seen you hoard the underwear of any of your past playdates. So, why mine? And why were you jacking off with my name rolling off your tongue?” (Y/N) propped her torso up by her elbows, pressing the tip of her nose to his, testing the waters before diving in. “And what if I told you I felt the same way, Deanie? What if I said that I’ve thought of you with my own hand down my pants? That I’ve edged myself for hours thinking of what you could do to me. And it’s not a matter of convenience for me, Dean. It’s the real deal.” 

Dean couldn’t believe what the woman under him was saying. He’d gone so long thinking his feelings were one-sided that Sam only told him the things he wanted to hear. To him, (Y/N) was too smart and too beautiful ever to want to be with him. He wasn’t what she deserved, but now he knew he was what she wanted. 

“Tell me you’re messing with me,” he grumbled. “Tell me this is just one big joke.” 

“Why do you want me to lie to you, Dean? Is it so hard to believe that someone can feel something for you? That I love you?”

“You don’t mean that,” he continued. “How would you know what you feel is real? It’s not like you have a lot of options on the road.” 

“Because I’ve felt like this from the moment I met you, Dean,” she confessed. Her heart had begun hammering inside her chest, begging for a moment of rest. But that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. “Why don’t you want to believe that I could feel this way about you?” 

“Because you deserve better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear it. “I’m not better.”

(Y/N) knew words were not enough to calm the doubts that drowned his mind, but she knew how she could show it. With a smile on her face, she pulled one of Dean’s hands with her own as she unzipped her pants with her other. She moved their interlocked hands to the wetness that had pooled in her core, pressing his calloused fingers on the aching bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. “I know what I deserve,” she hissed. “And I know what I want, Dean. I want you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he argued. But his fingers were telling another story. As if by instinct, his digits had started circling her clit, rubbing circles and shapes over the bud. “I’m damaged goods, (Y/N). I’m no good.” 

“And I’m not better,” she added. “We all have a past, Dean. It can’t stop us from living in the present.” 

“Is that what you’re doing, then?” Dean chuckled. “Living in the present?” 

“We both are, Deanie,” (Y/N) grinned mischievously, knowing she had won him over. “As soon as you give in, baby.” 

“You win, then,” he smiled. “For now.” 

Dean pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s, savoring their softness and their warmth. It was everything he had imagined and more. They moved perfectly in sync, fitting into each other’s empty spaces like they had been crafted for each other. And maybe they were. Maybe they were part of some divine plan and had no idea. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. It was the fact that they were together that made everything just right. 

“So, is this all because of me?” Dean taunted as he teased her folds. “This how you always are?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed in pleasure. “I can’t help it when I’m with you.” 

“Wish I had known earlier,” he grinned deviously. “I would have been taking care of you, (Y/N).” 

“I think we’ve been taking care of ourselves quite well,” (Y/N) teased. “I mean, from what I saw today, you got your system down.” 

“Oh, is that so? That mean you got your system too?” 

“Well, I have not heard any complaints yet,” she chuckled. “I kind of know my body quite well.” 

“Show me then.” 

“What?” 

“Did I stutter?” Dean smiled. “Get up on the bed and show me how you touch yourself thinking of me, baby.” 

Dean slipped an arm under her legs and another on her back and carried her to the bed, where he laid her body softly on the mattress. He kissed his way down her body as he rid her of her clothes, revealing the valley of her skin and marking his path with his mouth. 

“Show me,” he said as he kissed down her legs. “Show me what you do.” 

“You gotta get off me first,” she chuckled. “Or are you gonna do the work for me?” 

“As tempting as that sounds, baby, we gotta even the fields here. And we don’t have much time.” 

With a slight chuckle, (Y/N) situated herself comfortably on the bed, propping her back up with a few pillows. Just enough so she could see Dean’s form. He had dragged a chair and rested it just at the foot of the bed, his eyes firmly trained on the woman’s body. 

Soon enough, (Y/N)’s hands set off to work instinctively. They roamed her body sensuously, squeezing and kneading her most sensitive spots. As they worked their way through her skin, one rested upon her breast as the other made its way between her legs. She spread her limbs wide, giving Dean the show of a lifetime as her digits spread her folds and gathered her wetness before landing on her aching clit.  

She knew it was her hands that were touching her, but her mind quickly tricked her into thinking it was Dean’s calloused fingers running across her body. In her head, it was him that was toying with her clit, it was him that was pinching her hardened nipples, it was him that was bringing her closer and closer to her awaited orgasm. 

But it was clear that it wasn’t. Where he sat, Dean had taken his hard cock back into his hand, pumping at the same rate (Y/N) was touching herself. He slid his hand up and down his length, using his thumb to circle the head as precum coated him. In his head, it was her hand wrapped around him, squeezing softly as he tried to ride out his climax as long as he could. 

“Fuck yourself, baby,” Dean groaned out. “I’m getting close here.” 

“I always knew you were always too fast to the finish line,” she teased, concealing a moan that burst through. “Might just call you two-minute Dean.” 

“You really know how to shatter the fantasy, (Y/N),” he sighed. “Just do it, baby.” 

“Alright, but stop talking, Dean. You’re wrecking my fantasy here.” 

After Dean finally quieted, stifling a moan that was bubbling, (Y/N) continued with her work. The hand that had been touching her chest slithered down her body, sinking into her core as her other hand continued her attack on her clit. 

Moans and pants left her as she pistoned into her cunt, her digits curling at the end to bring her that much closer to her climax. She could see how hard it was for the man before her to keep up with her speed. His skin had started to redden and beads of sweat had formed across his body. His chest heaved quickly, and his movements stuttered as he held onto whatever resolution he had left. 

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned. “I’m so close, baby.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he stammered. “Keep going. Cum for me, baby.” 

(Y/N)’s picked up speed as she felt the tight coil in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap. She had done that dance many times before, searching, pushing, beckoning her orgasm to the brink. But it was the first time the Dean that was before her was real, close enough she could touch him. Close enough he could touch her. 

It was that very thought that had her yelling out his name as her finish washed over her body, drenching her hands in her essence. Close behind, Dean burst across his stomach with her name dripping from his tongue, his eyes firmly trained on hers. 

Dean took her into another rough kiss as they came down from their respective orgasms, her lips so irresistible he didn’t care how out of breath he was. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted. “So fucking perfect, baby.” 

“Was that everything you had dreamed of?” (Y/N) teased with a grin. “Was that what was running through your head when I caught you?” 

“Something like that,” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek. “It was more of a contact sport, if you get what I’m saying.” 

“Well, we still got some time to kill before nightfall,” she offered. “And I’ve got enough for a round two.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.” 

As Dean kissed his way down (Y/N)’s neck, a knock on the door startled them apart, sending them scrambling for their clothes. 

“Guys?” Sam called from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay with you two? We really need to get ready for tonight.” 

“Fucking Sammy,” Dean grumbled quietly, his eyes rolling as he slipped his t-shirt on. “We were just getting done talking.” 

“No fighting?” 

“We were very civil, Sam,” (Y/N) called out, trying her best to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. The pair had gotten dressed in record time, fixing the bed and brushing their hair. She was slipping on her boots when she whispered to Dean, “We are definitely getting a raincheck on that round two, Dean.” 

“Oh, you betcha, baby,” he grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be caught in the act.” 

“Just be grateful it was me and not Sam,” she smiled before kissing him once more. “Now, let’s go kill us some vampires.”

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[darkstarofchaos]

Hello! Another person who is incredibly frustrated with redeemed Megatron.

Me and my friends have all voiced the exact same problems and that main being that we don't ever get the before him like at all. Hints here and there but for the most part NO ONE outside of the bad guys has any bad blood towards him.

I understand not every kid show needs to be these deep emotional epics but at the same time it's still weird to me that the Autobots, who have lost countless family and friends thanks specifically to the actions of Megatron and his followers, show no sort of lingering resentment. After all, the amount of time between the war ended and the beginning of the show would be like a few hours for beings that live for millions of years.

Having the Terrans would be a great excuse to have the devil's advocate angle when other Autobots still don't feel comfortable around him. I said the same thing in my own Starscream post too about how sometimes people can't change because those around them refuse to let them.

Megatron should've felt alienated from both sides and by him not falling back into old habits and committing to staying good would've actually proved that his redemption was warranted.

I'm not asking for it to take over the show, but these little background moments. Hell, Bumblebee's attitude would've been a little bit more tolerable if you were it was coming from a place of feeling slighted pissed that the cybertronian who more or less ruined his "childhood" (I've accepted that headcanon that any given Bumblebee is basically a former child soldier) is just walking free side to side with his mentor.

The sad thing is that the first couple episodes kinda show some hints of that? Like when Optimus gives his "Roll out" bit and Megatron tells Dot he's never sure if he means him, or Bumblebee being kinda wary when he tries to call Optimus and gets Megatron (also, Megatron's matter-of-fact recounting of how he kept his soldiers in line). It wasn't enough on its own, but they could have continued the trend to show most bots are wary of him at best, or even implied that the reason some Autobots don't show up much is because they don't want to be around him. It wouldn't have taken many changes to show Megatron as fairly isolated, with maybe one or two relationships that kept him from backsliding into his old ways (his friendship with Dot works better for me because 15 years is a long time for a human, and we know he saved her life at least once).

Honestly, I was ambivalent about his "redemption" in season 1? After Jawbreaker asked him about his altmode and it turned out all he had to do to get Optimus' trust was scan an Earth alt, I pretty much gave up on getting any meaningful backstory for him, so I was resigned to him just being Generic Ex-Decepticon (and then What Dwells Within happened and he finally felt like a Megatron trying to do better to me. Not just in his interactions with Starscream, but when he interacted with Optimus and Croft too: angry, wanting to do things his way, trying to do better but slipping into old habits. If he'd been more like that throughout the show, paired with the Autobots responding appropriately to him, I would have enjoyed his character a lot more).

And then Season 2 happened. And we went the "Starscream is worse than his abuser, actually" route. And now I'm like... This is everything I do not want from a Megatron redemption. The only thing I want from a Megatron redemption is for him to face what he did to the people closest to him. Every single Megatron redemption sees him running off somewhere and leaving the Decepticons to deal with the fallout of his war, and he never has to face the people he personally hurt. And when it comes to Starscream, it's almost treated like a good thing that he hurt him, because when Megatron isn't there to "keep him in check", he's worse than Megatron ever was. And then people roll their eyes and say "Starscream is always power hungry and evil, what do you expect?" while Armada Starscream is right there, and EarthSpark Starscream in Season 1 was a hell of a lot closer to Armada than to Cyberverse.

On his own, EarthSpark Megatron was boring and a waste of potential, but not especially offensive. Paired with Starscream, and specifically Starscream as he appeared in the final episode of the latest batch, he is possibly my least favorite part of EarthSpark right now. Not as a character, but as a concept. I like Megatron, but I have no use for a redeemed Megatron who still has to believe that he's better than Starscream, and be supported in that belief by the narrative. The early scene in S2 when Megatron tells Starscream to let the war end could have been a really good character moment, because we would see that there are still things he doesn't regret, and that he truly sees himself as better than Starscream (who isn't even the one to blame for the war's continuation - I firmly believe that, since the Decepticons were the ones being hunted and locked up, it falls to Megatron and the Autobots to prove that things can be different now. And if the war is continuing, it's almost certainly because Megatron and/or the Autobots fucked up).

But instead we get, "Yeah, Megatron thinks he's a better person than Starscream. And you know what? He's right." I am so done with the abuse apologetics.

[slutsofren]

would you mind writing a little ficlet (or hcs) of the batboys and reader taking care of their newborn?

ever since i read the oneshot where reader goes into labor, i've been going FERAL at the thought of the batboys being loving dads set in the hloc universe🥺🥺

but only if you're comfortable and if you want to!!! you don't have to do this if you don't want to, no hard feelings 💜

OOH THIS IS GOOD

okay so i should start with a blanket message. i, personally, do not have children, i do not know how to raise a child save for a cat who is my pride and joy. i do not wish to have a child in my life. with that being said i will likely get a lot of things (lol everything) wrong in more detailed ways but hey, that's why this is a fantasy fic right lol

as always, details under the cut!! i went for general attitudes towards your pregnancy in the high lady universe but if you want something a wee bit different just shoot on over an ask :> 🤍🌹

**i will not be posting this to ao3 so it is a ✨tumblr exclusive✨

cw: babies, a little bit of violence mentioned but nothing bad :>

Azriel

az was the first one to try and get you pregnant and yes, he was trying multiple times a day for it to take so when the little flutter first happened, he cried. big fat tears.

when the babe was born with dripping black onyx wings az had weeped, they all did

he began to take less spy missions that would keep him away longer than a few hours just to stay home with his child, at least until they would old enough yeah right

it would take him months before he was able to stay a single night away on a mission at which point you had to reassure him with multiple kisses that the two of you would be fine

he cared for you in every single way possible, physically, mentally, emotionally, and would do everything in his power to keep you both happy

you wanted a bath? absolutely, here is your bath but let him take the baby, no it's fine he wanted to hold them :)

there would be nights where the babe would wake and cry and az would jump up and immediately take to them, consoling their cries

you'd watch as az would gently murmur stories from memory, of a high lady who fought to the death for her lovers, stories of you

az always was and always will be the protector of your little family

Cassian

absolute loser of a daddy

he didnt know the first thing of being a dad and he sure as hell did not know how to care for one

all brawn and very little brain for baby 101

he was never sure if he wanted kids when he first met you but seeing you pregnant, seeing his family, he was satisfied with whatever the outcome may be

he once tried to give baby a dagger when they were still a toddler and if you listen closely you could still hear Rhys’ voice shouting “NO” from the mountains of Illyria

for the first few weeks, cass was afraid he was going to drop the baby so he avoided holding them at all costs, leaving it to az and you

it wasnt until you assured him it was going to be fine did he give in, only to immediately start crying when he realized this was his family. he had a family. everything he fought for was for this.

cass was a warrior and he was absolutely going to be the one who trained your babies how to kick ass like him

Rhysand

rhys always was and always will be the most hesitant of the daddies

it took him time to come to terms with your pregnancy only because he lost his first family so violently, he wasn't sure if he was ready for that step but he knew he wanted it with you

rhys was the one who would secretly take the babe under the cover of darkness outside to practice flying as a surprise for you all

knowing the childhood of your other mates, he did everything he could to ensure none of your babies would ever grow up in violence like them or be in want of affection

with that being said, he became much more violent towards members of his court of nightmares.

he was a high lord so he was often not home but he would be damned to let the disease fester and grow under his reign, and he would make sure none of your children would shoulder his burden

to him, rhys did not care if he was biologically the father of any of your babies but he would fight wars for them so they would never have to

[forbidden-creature-snacks]

I keep thinking about last night with my Bunny. It was hot and exciting and freeing. Something clicked that allowed me to do something that I've never been able to do before, due to walls I've had built up against being freely sexual however feels best. Walls which I have been trying to break down for a while now.

I did what I have been practicing. Getting out of my head and into my instincts. I honed in on the feeling of us grinding on each other, honed in on my Bunny's scent, honed in on our breathing getting heavier, feeling everything getting more and more heated.

And then, it clicked. I opened my eyes, and I knew my Bun could see it in them. The crazed starvation and animalistic drive. They looked at me with their big doe eyes and in a soft, pleading voice, whispered "use me".

It was so sudden, so jolting, feeling this Creature in me take full control of my body, even my vision and perception. It was ecstatic. It had never had full control of our body like this before. Just this surrender to the Monster alone was a pleasure I never realized I needed so much.

The woman beneath me was no longer a person, but a thing solely for my pleasure. A small, pathetic, weak, sweet little thing that I could toy with all I wanted. My body did whatever the fuck it wanted to with them. A makeshift gag was shoved into their mouth while I rammed my lower thigh between their legs over and over again, when I wasn't busy rutting against them. My hands scratched and grabbed and pulled. My tongue licked and my teeth bit. I growled and grunted and laughed at how dumb and pathetic they looked.

My leg felt slick from how wet she was. I spit on her, spit in her mouth, and after the noise of pleasure she made from that, I laughed at how disgusting she was for enjoying this so much. A wet fucking mess. With her hands in my boxers, she tried once to make a smart remark about how I was, too.

"Yes, I'm wet, but I'm not pathetic like you. You'll take any part of me that I rub against you, you fucking whore," I jeered, then began to rub my entire leg up and down against her cunt, from the top of my thigh clear down to my foot. It glided so smoothly, so effortlessly from how slick and needy she was. I growled and laughed again at her whines and moans, while her hips moved wildly and frantically against me.

But no matter how lost they got in their own pleasure, mine was top priority. "Use both of your fucking hands," I growled into their ear, tired of them forgetting what their whole purpose was. To pleasure me.

Putty in my hands. Not a single thought behind her dumb eyes. Moans and groans and whines from her every time I fucked her mouth with my tongue, or rubbed part of me against her to keep her dripping and needy.

As pleasure built up in my own body, I grabbed her face and shoved her head to the side and into the pillows. Laughing and growling and grunting as I had been doing. Telling her "just like that, keep going" when she did exactly what I wanted her to. Mocking her for liking it, then praising her for doing it just right.

I'm a squirter. Big time. It's forceful. I knew that, and they knew that. Euphoria flooded through my body, right before the orgasm, as the realization crossed my mind that I could drench them in a way I never could if I had been born with a cock.

I grabbed her hair as I came, drowning her as I spilled all over her stomach, some running down her hips and between her legs. I kept rutting, grunting "take it, take it!" over and over again as I rode the waves of pleasure.

I could imagine it seeping into her skin, into her folds. She was covered in me, and it felt as if I had bred her more effectively than any human ever could. She'd be having my offspring. Little abominations. I was so proud.

But the little whore wasn't done. No, no. Not even close. They wanted more of me, and I wasn't done having fun with them, either.

She was begging for my fingers at this point. She begged so pathetically, so sweetly, I just had to. Three fingers slipped inside of her so easily that a fourth unintentionally followed, like she was trying to swallow my hand whole. I finger fucked her fast and hard, with the same amount of energy and aggression I had been doing everything else with.

She came, squirting everywhere. Her mess, mixing with mine, resulting in us sitting in our own puddle we made together. It felt so fucking good. Both of us releasing so completely. But I wasn't going to let my insatiable whore stop there, oh no.

I lost count of the amount of times she came. She was trembling, whining, crying as I coaxed more out of her. Teasing her sensitive clit until she couldn't help but climb back up for another climax. Me touching her, then watching her own fingers disappear onto herself. Her, begging me to suck on her. Gladly, I devoured her.

I found myself getting hard again. My hands wandered down between my own legs, at my own pleasure, and I drove myself to drench my Bunny once more, laughing at the sight, as they reached to touch themself yet again. Poor, brainless fucktoy. Dumb Fuck Bunny. Little thing can't help but like such depraved things as being drowned in my own flood of pleasure.

At the end, as their eyes rolled back into their head yet again, and their face turned red, then purple. I laughed and said "it seems I finally killed my prey," before I bit down on their throat.

She was a whining, trembling, crying, spasming mess beneath me after it all. Whining like a poor mutt. I felt satisfied, proud at a job well done.

The Creature was satiated. It let me regain more control of our body, although it stayed close to help me provide aftercare to our Little Bun.

It felt so good to let it take control. To let it break through that gentler, more anxious part of me that fears hurting someone, that fears being seen as predatory. To let go and let It run wild, tearing our Toy to shreds. And I'm excited to see It grow.

[mercair]

FINALLY, A REAL OPPONENT. Ladies and gentlemen, she is finished. One of the strongest darkners ever made, is here to see how strong Kris REALLY is. Shady, mysterious, and most of all, EDGY. I present to you; Shikari.

She was once the Emperor's favorite hitman. Considered by the whole dark world to be stronger than the emperor himself. She never missed target, she never lost a fight. Yet still, she kept a certain tenderness in her heart for all of the citizens.

One day, a strange man arrived to the dark world. In his paranoia, the Emperor ordered Shikari to get rid of this foreigner. Shikari followed his orders, and immediatly started looking for the man.

When she found him, she instantly tried to kill him. No point in making a conversation. But.. for some reason... She couldn't lift her katana from the ground. Her legs and arms were shaking. She couldn't move. Was this... Fear? But how? She never lost a fight, she never doubted, she was always the STRONGEST one... Wasn't she?. To top it all, the man kept smiling the whole time, as if he was mocking her. After that the man got closer to her and handed her a strange crystal, said it was a gift for trying so hard. Was he making fun of her?

Shikari wasn't gonna take it. Out of rage, she grabbed the crystal and SMASHED it to the ground... A grave mistake. The essence of the crystal enveloped her in darkness, and in it, she saw EVERYTHING. The horrible fat of the world, and the truth of her reality, ALL AT ONCE. She passed out, and the man dissapeared. Was HE looking for HER this whole time?

Eventually, the Emperor's guard found her lying on the ground, and tried to help her. But something was wrong with her. She woke up and attacked everyone on the place, while saying stuff that didn't make sense. Somehow, the emperor managed to capture her. Seeing her in this state, he realize she was a GRAVE DANGER for his entire empire. And so she was exiled to the darkweb, and her katana retrieved from her, with no way of coming back.

In there, she keeps training herself beyond her own limits. She has to be stronger, she NEEDS to be stronger. Or everything she's done... Will be for nothing. Woe to the next prisoner who is sent with HER.

Phew, that was a LONG one, eh?

Anyways, so, have you heard about this girl "Shikari"? She's such a GAL! (Do NOT say that to her in her face, she WILL break yours).

As said in the image, Shikari is inspired in those old EDGY flash/newground games from the 2000's, so yeah, i decided to make a real shady, mysterious, and OVERLY DRAMATIC character for this one.

Her design didn't take that much thought, i decided to give her thos cool white mask eyes and make her look like she is ALWAYS angry, even if she's not. And i tried to give her that "cool stickman" body type, that's why she's tall (also to be more intimidating). Btw she does have two arms, you just can't see the other one the 90% of the time due to dramatic effect.

The name SHIKARI is combination of the word: Shi (Death) and Ikari (Wrath). Very edgy right? And on the nose for people who know japanese, probably.

After getting her SHIFANG back. Shikari finally decides to unleash her full power on you. She didn't need the katana to do that, she just wanted it back. May god have mercy on you, because she won't.

And finally, her battle theme. This might be one of the best ones i've ever done. What do you think?

And that'll be IT! for NOW!!

Now that i have legitimatelly NO other secret bosses ideas, i may finally begin to develop every single of my chapter takes a bit more!! Stay tuned for that, see ya!

[jiniwae]

message to her

I have seen this many times with single moms. They sacrifice everything for the child, and at the end expect the child to do the same. They live with guilt toward their moms and if they get married they end up divorcing and going back to live with their mothers, and maybe become single parents themselves perpetuating the cycle. Parents have to learn that more than protecting parenting is about giving your child wings.

Mothers must know that their son must have their own life to live no matter what.

There are a lot of things that you don't see. A lot of times these parents are purposefully sabotaging their kids. My father tried to sabotage all aspects of my life, my personal life, my development as a human, even my financial independence, so that I wouldn't ever leave him. It took me to my late 20s to completely untaggle myself from him and, by that point, it was too late for my personal life, as you need another bunch of years to heal from the trauma and be able to trust people again.

sorry to hear it. still, my point stands: a man/a person needs to take responsibility for himself in adulthood. no one said "be magically fine by 21". the point is to recognize that it's his job to get away from the poison and grow. a 40 year old man has no excuse. he needs to be independent by then. not being so is his own fault, generally speaking.

I feel like not enough people are talking about the scene where the mother pretended to be dead. The son finally stands up for himself and tries to break it off, and the mother manipulated him into feeling bad for wanting to be independent. That’s gonna haunt me for a while-

I cried out so hard because this story completely represents the story of my life. Every second of it, the mother being manipulative acting like she was dying (yep my mom) and sadly that’s a type of psychological violence.

My biggest fear is that I'll become a narcissistic mother... No words. I've lost so many friends and my very first boyfriend figure over jealousy when my so-called childhood friend manipulated me into believing my boyfriend is cheating on me, it turns out it wasn't true at all. He left me for good.

For Jack Rose I feel bad for him too. His mom had him locked up away from reality and social life. He never hard friends, sexual experiences, girl friend and it seems that he never we t to college or worked

he couldnt even live his own life the way he wanted because of how controlled, manipulated and gaslighted he were and she always kept him attached to herself. its heartbreaking that some mothers do this to their own kids for their own benefit, not even thinking about their kids or their future, how their kids would live if they werent in their life anymore.

Mothers need to learn a lesson from this, and that is when a child gets a certain age, It's time to let go and let that son, or daughter grow up. You can not keep mothering your children forever. I myself have this same problem as well. I live with my mother and brother, and I am 38 year old, and it sucks. I for one would like to be on my own. I for one am 38 yr old and felt that I have missed out on a lot. Lucky for me I have a job and trying my best to save money.

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

Ok so I was gonna go more in-depth about the timeline and try to figure some things out, but I got a little sidetracked and time got away from me so I might continue this later but for now I need to go to bed. Please enjoy this infodump about the apocalypse in Moth Wizard (my post-apocalyptic fantasy setting) and the origin of magic.

(Content warning: war, religion, death, extinction)

When exactly canon diverges from our timeline is not determined yet since I've currently placed the apocalypse really taking off "sometime in the near future" and I don't know how much of the bad stuff may or may not happen in real life. We live in scary times. Ideally I'd keep it "in the near future" for a while though, like I don't know when (if ever) I'll actually Make The Show, but I'd like for it to still be in the future when I do. It would make the "this could happen to our world" part of the "this could happen to our world and while you individually cannot save us from it, it is entirely in the hands of humans to stop it and turn things around before then" message of the apocalypse, y'know, still apply.

As I mentioned recently in a very excited tag ramble, the apocalypse has several components. I think the main ones are war, climate change, and similar corporate greed consequences like pollution, unsustainable hunting, and destruction of habitats. All of it is human in origin. This is important to me, because if it weren't humans, then it would be Hashem (G-d), and He promised never to do that again after Noah and his family survived the flood. What Hashem did was give humanity the magic that allowed them to survive (and which now fills their world with wizards).

I like to think of this as kind of an inverse of the story of Noah. Hashem did not raise the tides, it was man, and man did not create the means by which life was able to live on, it was Hashem. Are we even now? Probably not, I wouldn't claim to know whether "being even" is even an applicable concept, but I do think that this event thousands of years later changed something forever. A circle has been closed. Life on Earth will never be the same.

I'll uh, definitely consult a rabbi about this at some point though, because I'm mostly making stuff up that sounds right and fits what I have in mind for their world. I'd like to make sure it's at least not actively contradicting anything.

Anyway, so we have the nearish future timeline deviation, I hope, where everything gets worse, billions of people die in world war III and countless species go extinct. Every single country on the planet is either at war or caught in the crossfire. If not for the gift of magic, it would have been the END end of life. How long after this does the story take place? I haven't decided. It's hard to put an accurate number to things.

Let's say hypothetically, magic is introduced in the year 5800, nice round number in the nearish future (a bit over 15 years).

As I've mentioned before, the first people to discover magic were kids probably aged 12-17, because of how the magic system works. To use magic, you need to try and truly believe in it, recklessly, and I don't think anyone is better at recklessly believing in undiscovered magic than teens, speaking as a former teen myself. Too young and the line between make-believe and reality won't be the right shape, too old and they'll have lost faith in undiscovered mysteries. Teens inhabit the sweet spot where the world seems just strange enough that maybe if you really really tried, you could fly.

And suddenly one day, the teens were right.

Sidenote but what I really love about this part of the magic system is that it comes with built-in explanations for why small children are not blowing up cars on accident (it has to be fully intentional and separate from playing pretend), and why not everyone uses it enough to call themselves a wizard (it's hard to believe recklessly and intentionally enough), AND gives good excuse for why anyone desperate enough could do it in a burst of emotion (recklessness is easy if you have nothing left to lose, the exact boundaries of possibility don't seem so important anymore). It's great.

It takes a while for people to believe the kids who discover magic. Obviously this footage going viral on TikTok is faked, and now there's a whole trend about pretending magic is real. And anyone who tries while under the impression that it's fake will of course fail, they don't believe at all. But the news don't have to spread via social media, it's much easier to show people in person. And do you believe it when you see a flying car on the news? You thought this was a reliable source, why would they buy into this obviously fake nonsense? And then you meet your 11-year-old cousin who claims she can make animals talk. You don't believe her, of course, until she points to a squirrel and the squirrel addresses you by name. The world is already in chaos, and now this?

Within a year, I think, it is generally understood that magic does exist. The exact mechanics are still unclear and everyone has their own interpretation, but the fact that some people are genuinely able to do things that until a year ago were definitely impossible is hard to deny now.

Somehow, magic seems to favor saving lives over taking them. This is not actually because magic itself has morals, but because it favors vulnerability and cannot be controlled the way guns can be controlled. Governments try and inevitably fail to create magical armies. You simply can't command someone to use magic. They would need to raise such soldiers from children surrounded by cultish propaganda in order to control their faith to such an extent, which of course they do to all their citizens, that's how they ever got anyone to kill another human on command, but they didn't have the foresight to include "you will be a wizard" in their programming starting 10 years ago. And now they won't get the chance. Their time is about to come to an end.

Oceans rise. Nations fall. The world we know dies screaming.

[cosmicstxrs]

Ever had that time in life when nothing was wrong yet everything was wrong. When all your favourite hobbies are no more your escape, when music albums are crashing into flashbacks and all you want to do is to lie down and let those streams come down your eyes.

It's getting bad again. I have tried everything, maybe it's me who isn't deserving. Maybe it's just me who's unlovable. Who's at fault everytime. I keep trying, giving my best in every bond I ever get onto only for it to break apart pulling the threads of my sanity to the verge of breaking. I crash, the shards of my tears scratching the beautiful walls of my memories while all I do is stare at it, being destroyed.

To breathe, to get up every single day, to face the people with hearty eyes while the blades of lost people go on scarring my magical box of happiness, I can just pretend. Pretend that I'm fine, that nothing's falling apart, that the bricks I used to build a home are still intact but in reality — I'm homeless. I've turned my dearest into homes, only for them to break apart the doors and windows, plucking my garden of efforts like it was never there.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is how it's meant to be. Maybe, this is exactly what was meant for me. But I hope, maybe I'll be able to sow those seeds again, maybe I'll build a home not for the dearest but only for me. Just for me, one day, maybe.

Maybe I'll get to run over blades of green grasses and not the lost people, maybe I'll get to see life again, calm, beautiful and worth giving a try to. Maybe. I hope this “maybe” turns into a blissful truth, for me, for you and for all of us.

[Sending love]

[sometimesiammybpd]

have you ever lost friends that you tried so hard to keep? it's not a fun feeling. and what's worse is consistently getting the blame placed onto you. it's like an endless cycle to me because what brings me down above all else isn't losing people so much as it's the feeling that no one believes i can actually change who i am and how i act, despite me spending so much of my life (to this point) doing exactly that. the point i've tried making for years isn't that i want anyone to feel sorry for me. i just want to stop being treated like it's an impossibility for me or something. like as if the only thing i'm worth is destroying what little people have. and what's funny is at the same time, i feel like i have no place to be saying any of this. it's a struggle that i have never won and as much as i hate having to accept this, it's pretty much most of what makes me . . . well, me. anyways (there is a reason for me bringing all that up, it just comes a bit later). i'm tired of fighting. that's kind of where i've been at for the last couple years because everything is a fight even if it shouldn't be. and it fucking sucks. for the sake of this post, i am going to be referring to three people. we'll call them sarah, nick, and will. and before anything else, i do not want to write every single post about someone i can't get over or something from my past. i swear. the issue for me is that even the littlest of things are so difficult for me to get over and big things are impossible. but i'll explain that more as we go on.

i met nick first of the three. when my parents got divorced, my mom moved into an apartment complex in the next town over. as i started to live with her more, i met nick as he lived only two doors down from me. he was chill from the beginning. he's a giant computer and car fanatic (especially cars) and while we probably shouldn't have worked as friends, we did. we were best friends for a whole decade before everything really went to shit. he was there for all of it. the one person i relied on during the community and trying to finally change and all of it was him. nick. i always used to think that i've only really fucked up when he couldn't take it anymore and stopped talking to me, but in hindsight it's the opposite. it was a problem that he stuck around for as long as he did and never once called me out on what i was doing and what was going on. at least until sarah came into the picture. i don't know how the two of them met, but i met sarah through him. and i did not like her from the start . . . which means i need to make something clear because i know how that will sound with what i'm going to say in a moment.

all three of us were friends two - three separate times (me vs them in terms of how it would end). and the first time me and sarah became friends, i bullied her relentlessly. there's no way to sugar coat it and i don't want to either. i don't try to excuse it because sarah didn't do anything to me. i was just the person that saw someone happy and decided it was my obligation to ruin that because i wasn't. it made me a piece of shit to deal with and the unfortunate part is that sarah stayed around and dealt with more than she ever deserved to. it's not worth really dwelling on specifics because i did spend a lot of time working on myself after this. cause sarah and nick both cut me off after i graduated high school. sarah because she was tired of how i was treating her and nick because of how i was treating sarah. it was rough. i deserved to lose them both cause it was the cycle of them trying to get me to understand i was doing stuff wrong and me not changing even though i swore this time i would. the one thing i want to add here is i was trying. i cannot take back or change the fact that to them, it did not come off that way because at the end of the day, it still led to the same result of me being unnecessarily mean to sarah for ???. but i was seriously trying as early as fifteen. i hate that it took me so fucking long. i really really do.

but point being, i lost them both at once. it was actually more than just those two at the time because i remember that week very well. it was like six to eight friends in total, give or take. and i will admit, i was so set in my thought processes and ways at that point that when i lost them both, i tried my hardest to find any reason to blame them. it had to be their fault because i couldn't admit i did anything wrong. even though in therapy i had asked her so many times why i couldn't stop being so mean to sarah because even i didn't get it, but i wasn't ready to have that conversation. it was a long couple years after that before we even spoke again and i still don't blame them. the first time was all me.

before i can get into like us finally talking again, i have to bring up will. will was someone i met going into my sophomore year of high school . . . i think(?). he was an eighth grader going into freshman year and we met because of us having a shared bus route (we became proper friends sophomore year but met at the tail end of my freshman year) and honestly, the fact we ever were considered friends is surprising. i was a bully to him as much as i was sarah and a few other friends i don't wanna bring up. and yeah, it's not fun reliving this but i also know that i did damage to these people that i'll never be able to undo so i don't really get much of a say (i mean this genuinely, it feels like it isn't but i swear i do). anyways, will and i initially bonded over geometry dash. it was fun at times. we were going to make collab levels and we'd share our current level bests and all kinds of stuff. and like sarah and nick, he eventually cut me off two years later because he couldn't take it anymore. sorry if this feels like a fast play-by-play or whatever. i just . . . there's only so much i can say when it's the same thing over and over. i don't want to share the details because god forbid they find this post and know who i'm talking about, i don't want it to be like as if i got some sick pleasure out of sharing this especially the details (which is why i'm not sharing any of that because it's not worth it). sorry. i get really paranoid talking about things like this.

the next two years for me was all about therapy and trying to understand myself more. i couldn't stop doing what i was doing until i could understand why i was doing it and yeah, it made it incredibly frustrating but it meant that it'd stick (which it did). this was also when nathan entered my life and with everyone else getting less and less able to tolerate me, you can imagine how much i leaned on him more and more. he did the same. i hate that we were both very toxic for each other, but. yeah. i spent a lot of that time trying to break two specific habits. the cryptic posts i made on instagram all the time where i'd basically write a post ALMOST speaking my mind. except i'd leave out just enough that the person would know i'm talking about them but i never directly said it sooooooo... (please don't do this to anyone). the other habit was just the toxicity in general. i just wanted to be less fucking hateful towards everyone. and i did break both habits after a while. and i was so proud of myself when i did because to me, i genuinely was not doing it for me. i just didn't want to hurt anyone ever again OR lose the people closest to me. that really was all that mattered. this was also the point in time when i learned i had adhd (and then later bpd). i refused to let myself get in contact with any of them until i felt like i had actually made progress. and by the time i got there, i understood that they had no obligation to talk to me and i had no right to expect it.

i believe i started with sarah and nick since nick especially was my best friend for 10+ years. i also just really wanted to make it up to sarah because of the endless years of bullying i put on her for no reason. when i messaged the both of them, i did make it clear that i expected them to want to nothing to do with me and that i wasn't here to force it or whatever. i also apologized for everything. it was some of the hardest shit i had to do but it was important and i'm still glad i did. and i got lucky. i got extremely fucking lucky because they both said okay to giving me one more chance. (it was NOT a second chance because they both gave me more than two the first time.) and to be honest, while i was so grateful for the chance, i knew they both wouldn't believe me for a while. after all, the whole "i swear i've finally put the work in and changed" line had come out of my mouth more than once before. and that's kind of where it stood for a long time. i had to spend a lot of time trying to rebuild what little was left from my destruction and i knew full well that at any point, they had the right to cut me off and call it there.

...and surprisingly, it went well. for a while anyways. i made amends with the both of them and while it wasn't the same, it was better. that's honestly where i wish it had ended but it didn't. but before i get into that i want to mention that it went the same for will. sarah actually was the reason why he gave me another chance because sarah actually told him that i had made progress and i wasn't that person. that was also the only time i actually ever believed sarah meant that.

aaaaaand now it's time we talk about the relationships that sarah and nick had with each other and the one will had with someone else. because those are the main reason why we don't talk anymore. before anything gets said though, i need to make something clear. i'll say it again later but this is not supposed to be a hate post against them or their relationship. as well as that, everything i remember about them might not be true anymore. the only point of me sharing this is that it's something i had to deal with that i am trying so desperately to move on from. that's the only reason i'm writing this. i have my issues with them and they damn well have the same with me, but i don't want to do anything to piss them off (at least in the sense of doing it to be petty and vindictive).

sarah and nick's relationship was fucked from the start. and i did take notice but i also didn't say anything i was thinking because it wasn't my place. that honestly was the first time i didn't put myself where i didn't belong, but it was also the only time for a while (more on that in a bit). for full context: sarah was 15 when nick was 17 and when nick started to well . . . pressure her into dating. it started with him making his feelings very much known from the beginning which only brought more problems into the equation. she said no from the start because she had no interest in him and he acted within the same cycle as me at the time where he'd maybe let it go for a month or two and then full swing it again hoping that this time, she'd say yes. and it made her uncomfortable to a point that she had to say something to him multiple times. and he'd do so much to act like her boyfriend even when she wanted anything else to be true. he'd use her face as his online profile picture. he'd drop anything to do something for OR with her. he was so obsessive from the start and it only got weirder and worse as it went on. and i hated that i really couldn't talk about it. i tried a few times during very specific situations but overall it wasn't something i felt allowed to speak about. like completely /gen.

and when they finally did start dating, she hadn't even turned 16 but he had turned 18, so it made the gap even fucking worse. and what really got to me was that he really couldn't handle the idea that maybe this wasn't meant to be. and it led to a moment that i still could replay in a nightmare like it was yesterday. they both came to the agreement that they wanted to explore more sexual things and in the midst of the first time, her parental figure walked in and caught the both of them. you want to know what this got nick? the over-hanging threat of being potentially arrested (or at the very least getting the cops called on him). this was the first real time i had to step in between the two of them. i didn't even want to, but it makes it kind of difficult when i have nick freaking out to me and sarah giving me every last detail for ??? fuck all i guess??? my advice to nick was simple: leave her alone. move on. because the second her parental figure threatened the cops, serious or not, i knew it shouldn't be pushed. but mr. obsession had a different plan: keep talking to her.

the point of all of this is not to trash their relationship or say they're garbage or whatever. i had to bring most of this up because when it comes back to our friendships (and this started the first time but really became a problem the second time), nick outright ghosted me. he already had a really big issue with that because it was common that he'd disappear for months with no reason why. but once sarah got into the picture (and safe to say got broken down enough to actually date him), it was worse. i liked them together overall because i was supportive of my friends and on the surface, it was an almost-perfect relationship . . . on the surface anyways. because the second time around, i started to actually hate sarah. not bully hate where i was unnecessarily toxic and mean and all that. like, actual hate. and i didn't take it out on her. i wasn't going to do that again regardless of how i felt. i started to hate her because of how she treated nick and my friends / me in general.

when it came to nick, she was controlling. before she had her license she was infinitely worse but as far as i saw, it never stopped even after. everything she wanted to do, he had to be there. he was her personal chauffeur for years while she'd belittle him and trash him and manipulate him to his fucking face. one clear example was her saying unfiltered that "she doesn't like my car and is refusing to let me take her anywhere as long as i drive my car." that kind of shit made me so angry. what kind of ungrateful motherfucker takes advantage of their bf like that just to then tear down the one real thing he prides over. and when it came to everything else, she wasn't any better. if you put it into honest terms, she did everything she could to make him her bitch. like i wish i was overexaggerating. and it really upset me because for all the times i hated his guts, he was my best friend. but i couldn't say anything because she also overreacted so much that if you dared say a word, if she didn't say anything nick would.

when it came to everyone else, she just really never cared about anyone but herself. one of her best jokes was telling others to kill themselves and THEN take offense when you call her out on it. i should know as she did it to me when i was on the edge of suicide and i almost did it that night haha. anyways. as i did my best to change my behavior, it honestly made me realize how much of what i once did to her and my friends, she was doing to others. and being honest, i blame myself. i do wonder what would have been the outcome if i hadn't been the way i was to her. because yeah, i hate her. but she was one of my closest friends for years and at the end of the day, i wanted to help her after trying to get help for myself. her parents did NOT make that easy. not only did they hate me talking to her, they didn't really believe in the idea that therapy could help or do anything at all. so the idea of it was off the table before you had the chance to put it anywhere near the table.

i felt bad and wanted to help but it made it so fucking hard when after all the work i did specifically for them of all people because i wanted to be better BECAUSE of how i treated them, they refused to ever even accept the notion i had changed. a couple months in, maybe a year, i get it. but i never got that chance. and on one hand, i see why and even if i don't understand it's fine. but on the other hand, i started to realize it was becoming more and more difficult to keep growing and changing and learning from my past to better my future when i was surrounding myself with people who could ONLY see myself as the 18 year old who seemed to take pleasure in making others suffer (i'm around 21 by this point). and i wasn't. i hoped i wasn't. and every time i talked to them, i felt like i was. i felt like nothing had changed and i tried to explain myself but they didn't really seem to want to listen.

the final straw for me was when my friend (whom bore the blunt end of most of my panic-induced conversations where i was starting to believe i hadn't changed and i was even worse for convincing myself i had for years) got into it with sarah which led them to not talk to each other for a bit. except that sarah was trashing them in my dms. trashing my fucking friend to me behind their back. i told sarah multiple times to talk to them and i kept getting the "no it's fine" excuse. that led me to go to my friend myself because i wasn't going to sit there and let that go on and of course, they were beyond pissed. wouldn't you be? they eventually made up but in my mind, it was over. i didn't want to be around them anymore. so i wrote this long message (two actually, one for each) where i laid everything out. i wasn't aggressive or angry because i didn't feel that way AND i wanted to make sure it didn't come off that way. i just put it out there because i couldn't it anymore. them treating me like that and expecting me to somehow still change, the way sarah treated my friends and nick, the fact that nick basically stopped being my friend for sarah, sarah's controlling behavior and her toxicity, all of it. because it's never went well for me in the past when it gets to a moment like this. i knew that there'd be no chance in hell that we'd ever try being friends again and i was okay with that. i just wanted them gone because it was better for me and i still would choose my current friends over them in a heartbeat. and i want to make it clear too, it wasn't an easy decision. i know i kind of made it sound like it, but it wasn't. it took me a week to send it because i was ending a decade-long friendship for good. he was my rock for longer than i could count (not really) and i wasn't ready to say goodbye, even if i knew it was for the best.

and so i sent it to them. i immediately blocked because i knew they weren't going to respond well. i wasn't being anything but assertive of myself but i was the one that was trying to change. they weren't. and i promise that's not me saying that to attack them. it just became something i came to realize and hated myself for a while for doing so. but, yeah. and it should have ended there. but i happened to forget one account and they sent a response basically just attacking me on all fronts.

they called me manipulative and accused me of just straight up hating their relationship. i got told that it was my fault if i started to feel like i was regressing, change wise. they (like always) accused me of just not taking accountability because god forbid someone else be wrong. it was just so much hate and in the moment, i felt so much rage that i wrote an incredibly hate-filled response. like pages of just anger and fuck yous and all that shit. it really sent me into a bad episode and i still have that message . . . but i never sent it. and i never plan on doing so. because i knew that's what would happen. i knew it'd end in a firefight because it's who they are. it's who i was for a long long time and it was a rude awakening when i realized they still were even if i wasn't.

i don't hate them anymore even if it feels like it so much of the time. but i am just tired of thinking about them all the time. like as if something could have been different even though i had to accept their friendship was only detrimental to me. it's just not fucking fun. and don't worry about will, by the way. i might write about him later. i don't know. i don't really care anymore lmao. sorry. all this shit really dragged me down because this was so much of my life that i had to give up and not really by choice. yeah.

[olivesjaw]

just here 2 vent this is going 2 be a long one so buckle up

my partner and I broke up a few weeks ago and since then I haven't really even had time or space to process the grief or try to re-connect with myself (when u have bpd, being in a relationship often means losing yourself in your partner, they become ur world and life and ur Everything, I've managed to tamp down on this sensation with time and practice but it's one of the hardest bpd things to unpack and balance out imo) because of work, training my dog (we're working with a professional and get homework to work on daily), spending so much time rifling through marketplace craiglist etc listings for apartments (everything remotely affordable is a fucking scam or nO pEtS aLLoWeD) AND living with/trying to resume a platonic friendship with my ex

so i've been 20x as emotionally erratic than I usually am, I spent the first week after the breakup breaking down crying every morning and throughout the days, my aunt that I have a traumatic and complicated history with died on sunday (processing that has been weird and more emotional than I'd thought it would be and I haven't really even had time to think about it much either)

i don't know where me or my dog will be in three or six months (a part of why we're training with a professional rn is because he has anxiety and reactivity issues, barks at everything and can't live in an apartment complex or with roommates like that) and our options are slim because it is next to impossible to live as a single person without a spouse/SO, roommates etc and I have a bunch of cards stacked against me including having a dog and if I didn't have ben right now i'd probably just throw in the towel and call it quits on life because I am so tired and alone I know fucking nobody in the area I'm living in except my now ex, I barely had people to call friends before moving here anyways and it just feels like i'm losing everything when I barely had anything to stay alive for to begin with

i knew it would be risky moving here/with my partner to begin with as i'd have nowhere to go/no one to lean on if we broke up but I had nothing when I lived in new hampshire too and I have been telling myself for the past practically two years that if I made ANYTHING in my life work out okay it would be this relationship and I tried so hard to make it work too because I could have built the fucking pyramids with the effort it takes me to just maintain a somewhat stable relationship of any sort while I live with this illness and all of this has brought into perspective again just how maladjusted I am and how I have no sense of identity or self, my entire life just revolves around other people and whether they still love me, and without them I can't cope or live, even when I thought i'd grown out of this

this has all just been re traumatizing too because I lost my best friend in a similar way six years ago (have not had a ~best friend~ since) and both of these people are the only two people I've ever met that inspired hope in me, made me want to love and grow and just stay alive for something better (the future with them!) period. I just cant even put into words how bad it is with bpd. you don't just lose the person or the relationship. you lose everything. you lose yourself your life your patience your self compassion your will to keep going your hope your joy. everything. this illness just takes everything from me over and over

ok now that I'm bout to throw up sorry if u read this I just needed 2 get it out in a fashion that isn't directly talking to anyone (because I don't have anyone LOLLLL) okbye

[cloudy-with-a-chance-of-chaos]

The Baldurian Journal

Written based on my playthroughs in Baldur's Gate 3 - lemme make myself known as a sort of vanilla player Feel free to ask me about it on my askbox or on the comment section. ⚠️ Long read ⚠️

"I don't know what day is today. Actually I've been on the road for quite a while now and didn't manage to keep track of everything. It's part of the reason I'm writing it down now; not to be a Doomsday messenger, but if it comes to transforming, I think I should leave something behind, to at least show I didn't cave in easily. I also don't know if my trouble remembering things is due to the worm inside my head or just the general falling, crashing, fighting sequelae. Who knows? Had trouble figuring out how to write too. And for some reason, maybe a lapse of insanity, I figured I'd ask the elf for advice. Suffice to say he rolled his eyes, spit out "From the beginning. Where else?", and left me talking alone, wandering to God knows where he goes at night... I don't like this guy. I mean... I'm not fond of him. I can see his appeal — the red piercing eyes everytime he looks at me and, honestly, he's a good talker, and I do not take (much) pride in sharing some points of view with him. But he's so completely and overbearingly annoying. So extremely obnoxious. A girl cannot consider saving a child at peace, it always makes him moody. If he's so bothered why join? Everyone else seems on board with how I've been managing things in order to SURVIVE, but Mr. Magistrate rolls his eyes and barks at me. Well sir, bite me. The past few days have been absolute pandemonium. And as my darling "friend" suggested, I'll start from the beginning. My name is Alyah. I was on the shipwreck days ago. Me and the githyanki Lae'zel rescued this mysterious cleric named Shadowheart before bringing the ship down. People have mentioned it "fell" but I know well enough I crashed it. When I woke up at the beach, the githyanki had vanished; I don't know if she's survived. Astarion was the first one I found, by chance, looking around the debris to figure what the hell happened. And as charming as he is, got me in a headlock with a dagger to my face. To be honest I was quite surprised to be taken down by this frail looking elf; pale, thin and with eyes rather deep in his skull as if he hasn't eaten in days. He has some strength to him, I'll give him that, but it only took me longer to get rid of his paws because of the element of surprise. He said he was on the ship. He saw me there... And once I managed to get away from his dagger he looked... Scared. This was the last time I had a heart-fluttering sympathy for him. Ever since he started following me around like a lost puppy, he's bullied every single person I've talked to. Shadowheart was not amused to have him make fun of her name. Neither was Gale, Gale of Waterdeep, when the local red-eyed pet put his wizarding credentials at stake. Though I kind of agree with Astarion, getting stuck on his own portal was NOT a very crediting move. And as I feared, Gale as also on the ship. And is also stuck with a tadpole in his brains. Although he sounds, looks and behaves way too chirper to someone on the death row...

•••

We tried walking around the forest to explore and look for more survivors, but none in sight. To be honest we stranded so much from the ship I don't think either of us has any idea of how to go back — subconsciously, I think we're all trying to get away as far as possible from those things, even if there's one of them inside each of us.

– Stop. – Astarion grabbed my arm – Listen.

– And what should we be listening to? – Shadowheart mumbled and got the ugliest frown from him.

Elf versus half-elf. I suppose he has better hearing.

His hand pulled me, and the whole group, to the back of a rock to listen. People yelling. Someone asking to open the gate. I found myself staring at the three of them hiding with me and realized I was just a foot in front of the group. Astarion nodded to me.

– Go ahead. – he whispered.

Of course. It's not him who's gonna get killed on day one.

It took me a step. Just a step a bit to the side to try and see what was going on and suddenly all of the Nine Hells broke loose.

Goblins.

A couple of them right behind us, forcing us into battle.

If I recall correctly, Gale electrocuted two of them. I might be wrong. Astarion and Shadowheart had an unbelievable teamwork, given that they act with nothing but despise for each other.

And me. I finally had my hands on my axe after what seemed too long.

Though we were caught by surprise, I thought it was a refreshing battle. A good one. No losses, no harm done (to me and my own), but a nice way to put my body at work again.

The gate that person (I still don't know and actually don't care for whom it was) was asking to be opened, opened. They were wearing the same uniforms as the guards up on the watching.

– Easy to open now, that their own people is mutilated. – I grumbled, avoiding slipping on the fresh blood on the grass and I can swear I heard someone chuckle behind me. I would bet on Astarion, because he had a smirk on that face when I looked behind, but so did Gale.

Maybe I'm funny.

– Should we go inside? – Shadowheart asked, dusting her clothes.

– I don't see why not. – Gale stopped by my side – Hopefully there'll be a nice resting spot for us if they're willing to take in some disheveled travelers like ourselves.

– What if they don't, dear?

– You've seen how quick she runs, we'll be out there in no time. – I could see Gale smiling and Astarion frowning again.

– Or maybe we'll get our hands dirty again... – I said, expecting a reaction. Gale didn't give me one. Shadowheart looked rather annoyed. But Astarion spinned his dagger on his fingers and gestured at me with it.

– Well, if worse comes to worse, at least blood looks good on you, darling.

It sounded enticing, but looked menacing. I wasn't his darling, not if I dragged him into another meaningless fight.

Pity.

I like meaningless fights.

– Well... – I pulled my axe and pointed at him; this is a temporary alliance and it will come the day him and I will end up at each other's throats. But for now... – On you too. Now let's go inside.

[kitty-mactabbysh]

One More Day to Regret

Oh well I don't have much of an idea of what I'm doing. But I had this prompt a while and decided to get this over with.

Word Count: 527 ♡

Wish I could be doing more, but...

Autumn is nearly upon us, so enjoy the boys spending some quality time together and some good one-side angst.

Cancelled compassion, this our ignorance

Not everlasting much, less eminent

Stay time heals everything

One more day to regret

One more day to regret

°•♡~

As the wind billowed the scarlet and orange leaves throughout the streets of London, a seemingly happy pair of figures sat by a bench on the square. Both of them wore comfortable, warm clothes, and were remembering something funny, sharing a laugh from memories that would never return.

"I don't think I've ever seen a man so terrified in all my life!" Soap said to a chuckling Ghost. "He just took a good look at you and ran! No shots fired!”

"I seem to have that effect on people." The blonde replied, mask up, taking a sip from their pumpkin-based hot drink. He had no idea of what it was, and neither did Soap, but the Scot insisted they tried it, so there they were. It wasn't bad. It was creamy, and had cinnamon added to it.

It helped that, with the Sergeant's presence, everything else seemed to taste better.

"Come on, Simon.” Soap said with a raising eyebrow. “It's not really like you terrify every single person you meet."

The meaning was simple, and it was also very clear to both: ‘you do not scare me’, but Ghost glossed it over on purpose.

Of course Johnny wasn't afraid. He was one of the stupidest, bravest men Simon had ever known. Always had something to say, no matter the situation, words which never failed to bring Lieutenant Ghost an untold amount of joy he'd been trying hard to get rid of.

Because Johnny deserved better.

Better than him.

“Well, it's true, actually.” He laughed it off like he always did. “There are some people crazy enough to stick around.”

“Yeah, like who?”

“Like Captain Price.”

There was silence, because Soap recognized the truth in his friend's words despite it being a clear attempt at changing the course of the conversation.

“He always comes through for us.” Was the shorter man's contribution to the thought, sipping from his drink.

Ghost smiled.

“Yeah, he does. Which is why I always try my best to keep you all safe.”

A soft sigh, and the blonde felt the warmth of Soap's shoulder pressing against his own.

“Don't act like you need to repay for every single good thing that happens to you, Si.” He stated, his voice almost tender, the accent showing through with ease. “It is good to be grateful, but you deserve these things you get.”

He did not expect the other man to reply, and he was right. The words completely broke Simon, any comeback he might have had ready if the comment was a completely different thing than what he heard… he lost. He was speechless, and the only things his mind could register were the gratitude for Soap being in his life… and the sweet presence of the Scotsman by his side.

The wind continued to blow on the streets, and the war they fought was still far from over.

But that secret war in his heart, the one very few people ever had access to, was very nearly lost to John ‘Soap' MacTavish.

[kaiserouo]

Hi.

This is a rambling post because i'm sick. Somehow turned into a post about my history about art. Kinda spent too much time on this that i don't really wanna delete this now. Oh well.

More below.

Yeah okay. You might think why i'm rambling in an art blog. It's because english isn't my native language and i kinda think differently with english. I've complained enough on plurk with chinese today so, uh, i'm here now lol.

I am so sick right now i don't even know if it's food poisoning or normal cough / fever. Anyway, i stared at a blank canvas in csp for >4 hours and cannot even do anything because of all the migraines i have.

The pain kinda took away the little inspiration and creativity i had, even though i have like a full idea list with detailed and concrete comic plot attached to almost every single item on the list.

So i'm gonna post the second hound i've ever drawn, probably because i have just lost the capability to make proper decisions. Also being sick and cannot physically do anything made my mind flew to who knows where.

2022/02/12

I mean, it kinda sucks. I know i also didn't achieve anything important now but oh man.

You know, it's kinda a miracle why i'm here doing art stuff almost every single day, and why this piece is in my phone in the first place. If you've seen my stuff a lot (for whatever reason) you might already know i...don't like myself very much. Not until recently when i'm reading a book did i realize i'm a perfectionist type of person. Like, i don't like failure, i don't like being...not able to do stuff. When i try something i think i can achieve and realize that i actually just...don't have the ability to do the stuff to my standards, i'd very likely just quit.

I was not capable of drawing anything. You might be thinking "oh no art is not about being capable or making masterpiece first try it's for fun you can do whatever." I kinda got it, like i understand the point this sentence is trying to convey, but my brain just...doesn't work like that. I think perfectionist is just an inherent bad habit of mine. Especially that i've been lurking on social media watching actual masterpiece level of fanart (at least to me) since i was like, 12. My taste of art and what i perceive as "good" did not match my ability to draw, and very likely never will.

It's basically a death sentence, because if you can't really achieve something to your standards then why do you even try? I mean, objectively speaking it's very illogical to say that and you can probably deduce a lot of contradictions from that, maybe like "masters were once a noob too they weren't born with all the skills they have" or something like that. But that's why i said i'm a perfectionist and it's my inherent bad habit. My brain just defaults to...whatever illogical thinking i said. Until that piece of Bloodhound i've already tried to draw many characters years before, but those attempts just...never last.

But that time, when i tried to draw Bloodhound, i recalled an advice that you should put all your work on the internet. Just, literally all of them, no matter how bad it was. It kinda makes sense to me actually. To keep the progress for future inspections; to give myself a pressure to draw something every day; to put what i was thinking into words, knowing that i will forget all the struggle i had once i became good enough (if that ever happens).

So i made a new plurk account. Nice platform, only taiwanese use that, very little people, even less will see my art months into the cause so that's nice for an introvert like me. But the pressure i gave myself to post everyday is very real, and i despise my art every single day. Old habits die hard, even for now.

Everything kinda flows natually after i got into the habit of posting things everyday. I must stress that this habit itself is a miracle. I'm an introvert that can't really talk with strangers, let alone shouting out loud (i.e., posting) on the internet. Anyway, this changed things. I started to actually draw, like, almost every day. There's never anything i did in my life that i actually made into a habit, or, uh, just generally do everyday without much obstacles in my heart. I usually just play games after school and watch youtube and daydream about all kinds of plot about the game, that'd be all i do.

I can get through a lot of details about the progress thanks to the post i was making, but to put it simply: i think i'm trash at making art, and my art is also trash, so i tried to learn things to make it…less trash. Most art post i've done i wrote about what i tried and what i've learned. Not actual research and book reading, just a bit of observation i made to make my hound look better.

At roughly 2023/2 i saw a post about learning art in 100 days. Ignoring all the thoughts thinking i was trash and achieved way less in a year, i actually started borrowing books about art. Spent like 2 months on stonehouse's anatomy, also a bit on perspective. I'm kinda a nerd so i'm completely fine with the biology and perspective related math (like most properties are 10 seconds easy proof after all). But the memorizing part of anatomy and the intuition part of perspective i'm still trying to get familiar with. Well that all comes down to practice and practice and more practice, which i do way less than i should to be honest.

At 2023/7 i made this account. That time i just got into destiny 2. Fun fact, that banner of cayde + bloodhound + omen was made in ~2023/6 and i didn't even know which games cayde and omen are from until i actually look it up.

And…yeah. This post kinda turns into my history of drawing but this is it. Still learning, still making my daydreams into art. i think the only thing that changed this year is that i kinda enjoy my own art now. I still think some of them are bad, especially as the art gets older, but it's not completely unbearable now. Like, i often go back to some old posts and think "oh yeah i drew this idea, still hilarious to me lol." Crazy, huh?

Okay i'm tired. I think this should have some kind of ending or conclusion...

Yeah, so why it's a miracle i'm here? I started to make art, i kinda made it a habit, i posted about my art even if i'm an introvert irl, i look down upon my own art because i'm a perfectionist, i still make art despite of that, i post enough stuff on the internet before and i plucked up my courage to post on english platforms (i.e., tumblr), and i'm still making art till this day.

I didn't meant it as some kind of art learning advice because you shouldn't even listen to me in that case. It's just me mesmerized by how i even ended up here. Tend to do that when i'm sick on bed doing nothing.

C'est la vie, am i right?

[ruewrites]

Returning Lovesickness Chapter 1

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2299

Warnings: mild depictions of gore

Summary: Is it really fair to tell Solomon of his suspicions when they both just accepted what they both want probably won't happen? Even more, Asmo is struggling to the possibility himself.

A/N: This will be a two parter. This next gen piece is a p big time skip in the pieces I've posted so far. But none the less, I hope you all enjoy it all the same! I will try to make a little post about how we've pictured magic babies working so stay tuned! This is another story that takes place within the next gen! au that @leviathanswingman and I put together

Next

Asmo could still feel his stomach churning. He just needed to be away for a bit, the magic was making him sick. He was too scared to say anything yet, even though there was little in the way for doubt anymore.  He held down one more wretch before tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

He'd tell Solomon eventually, all he needed was time, and a little more certainty. How could he even risk breaking Solomon's heart even more than he already had? 

It wouldn't be kind.

It wouldn't be fair.

They were finally getting over the idea that it may never happen, that Lilith would forever be their only one. Could he really risk giving Solomon news that would turn out to be wrong? But on the other hand-

"There you are," the rustling of a bush drew Asmo's attention. Barbatos stepped out of the foliage, composed and as calm as ever. Sometimes the other demon reminded him of his husband in certain aspects of their composure: The way in which they both held themselves, the calming tones in which they spoke, how they could both stay so composed under pressure.

It made sense to him why Solomon held a pact with Barbatos.

Solomon and her perfect mind, and his perfect hair, and his perfectly handsome face, that connected to his chest and all those markings-

And of course his marking-

And then straight down his abs to that perfect big- 

“It’s not like you to want time to yourself in the middle of the woods.”

The underlying “Are you alright?” was palpable despite the silence and Asmo wasn’t really sure how to go about answering it. The obvious answer was no, but could he really unload all of his thoughts onto Barbatos?

"I just wanted a bit of change in scenery. I haven't had a lot of time to look at the stars."

Barbatos stepped closer to him and Asmo bristled, "Have you really been that distracted? I only had to ask you both to reorient your focus twice now."

It wasn't like it was abnormal for him and Solomon to be a bit distracted on their missions. There wasn't a single reason Barbatos should be bringing it up. So what if Asmo got lost in those gorgeous stormy eyes, or those nice plump lips, or the way Solomon kissed, or-

"You've been awfully  blissful since you came back from your trip the young master and Lucifer helped organize for you."

Asmodeus froze. Full stop. 

It was one thing for the thoughts to plague his own mind, but for Barbatos to bring it up in such a way? It was a completely different ball game.

There was no need for Barbatos to elaborate on what he was referring to, Asmo knew. 

For as much as Asmo loved to gush over Solomon and talk over almost every single detail of their lives, there were some things he had tried to keep under wraps. Like how he and Solomon had wanted another baby, despite having been used to Lilith spending most of her time at RAD. Of course they still saw her, she came home often. But the desire had seemed to creep up out of nowhere.

They had tried almost everything they could think of, and everytime their efforts had been fruitless. They had been stressed, tired, and frustrated. And maybe… just maybe Asmo had let it slip to Mammon when he had gone to visit his brother and the triplets. And perhaps Solomon had admitted to saying something to Simeon. 

In any case word had gotten back to Lucifer and the next thing he knew he and his husband had been sent off to a nice quiet cabin in the woods, one that Diavolo and Lucifer frequented themselves, with Snow Demonus and small gifts packed away. Asmo had to admit, whatever their plan was, it worked. 

The baby blues had melted away and it had been a wonderful opportunity for him and Solomon to reconnect and just talk. And maybe do a little more than talk-

It had been a while since Asmo had felt so relaxed and playful, longer than he'd like to admit. 

But by the time he returned home, he was feeling better than he had in ages. Perhaps it was just the proximity, perhaps it had nothing to do at all with what Barbatos was maybe suggesting, but he and Solomon had been spending more and more time together.

If Asmo didn't know better, he would say his husband was spellbound.

But he knew better than that, and he knew better than to get his hopes up.

“Can you blame me?” Asmo retorted, “It was sooo romantic, and Lord Diavolo and Lucifer personally let us rent out a cute little cabin they adore! I think it was one of the first lovely little romantic getaways we’ve had in the woods since Lilith left for RAD. At least one in the woods that wasn’t for one of my Darling’s missions.”

Asmo felt himself forcing his normal cutesy mannerisms. His aggression had been up, and his patience was running thin. Which was odd, especially considering that this was Barbatos. Asmo had no good reason to be upset with him, he knew this. In fact, Barbatos was one of the only demons that Asmo would even consider going on missions with after the incident. He trusted Barbatos, Barbatos was his friend. He hadn’t done anything. He was only trying to help, he was only-

When had he gotten so close.

Asmo’s horns itched on his head and his wings ached to curl forward. He had no idea why he felt like he was fighting to maintain control, as if every inch of his body were on fire. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. 

The last time he felt like this was when-

“Lord Diavolo mentioned something about your perfume, yes?”

What?

“At one of his parties, it was the last family get together he hosted at the castle. He said your perfume smelled nice.”

Had he actually put perfume on that night? Honestly, he couldn’t remember, he’d been on his second glass of demonus and trilling at the compliment regardless. But the implication made his throat tighten.

Too close. Barbatos was too close.

Another demon was too close to him.

Someone that wasn’t his Solomon was too close to him.

“It smells like you’re wearing it again.”

Where was his Solomon?

“But that’s just the thing that confuses me-”

Too close. Too close too close tooclosetooclosetooclose-

“You don’t wear perfume in situations like this because it attracts bugs.”

Barbatos placed his hand on his shoulder.

“So there can only be one other explanation.”

Asmo had lost control of himself. He couldn’t tell what was happening around him anymore. He couldn’t register the shock on Barbatos’ face, or that his own demon form had pushed its way forward. The only thoughts he could remember were the ones that appeared as he watched the red trickle down Barbatos’ face. 

How he wanted to bring more of it out, tear him to shreds, rip out his beating heart and hold it in his hands until it slowly came to a stop. He wanted to be covered in gore, bathe in his blood, take what he could as a trophy. 

As he came out of the miasma, he realized what he’d been thinking. Asmo realized that it was his hand print embedded on his cheek and his claw marks from where his nails had caught along the way. As his senses returned to him, there was only one thing that Asmo wanted to do.

He cried.

And cried.

And cried. 

His body heaved with each sob. 

Despite what he had just done, Barbatos still approached him, led him to a fallen log and let him sit down.

“Barbatos, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”

“Shhh,” Barbatos hushed him, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully tilting Asmodeus’ face towards him, dabbing under his eyes to dry his tears and clean his now smeared makeup. “I should be the one to apologize. Solomon had informed me of what happened on your last mission with another demon, why you both had only been asking me to accompany. I should have been more considerate.”

Asmodeus remembered it well, being accused by another demon of using his charming abilities. Said demon being upset and accusing Asmo of being a tease, and all in front of Solomon too. The absolute audacity. That would have been bad enough, but they were on a mission, the sorcerer the other demon had been connected to was also there, and they almost failed their mission. Asmo was furious, and he genuinely didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t had a monster to tear apart.  

Luckily Solomon had been just as furious as he was, and, after discussion agreed, to closing their circle for the time being. 

Asmo had believed it to be a one time freak event, but with all the evidence lining up in front of him, he had no choice but to believe. 

“I do not wish to upset you, especially considering you’re-” Barbatos looked him up and down and nodded his head  once, “Again.”

Asmo couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, I’m not so sure about that-”

“I think it’s quite obvious.”

Asmodeus felt his heart stop once more, and something started to stir in the pit of his stomach. A something that felt like a swarm of butterflies batting their tiny wings.

Obvious.

“Does Solomon know?”

“I couldn’t bear to break his heart if I were to be wrong-”

“You’re not wrong.”

More silence.

Asmo took the handkerchief from Barbatos and pressed it against the gash on the butler’s face.

“Look what I did to your poor handsome face,” Asmo sighed, tears threatening to sting at his eyes once more, “It’s already bad enough, and the idea of how upset Diavolo and Lucifer will be with me. Oh Ollie probably won’t talk to me for at least a day, or be very uncomfortable around me- I can’t bear it.”

“They don’t have to know,” Barbatos said, lifting his hand to help with the compression, “I won’t tell them, but I do think you should tell Solomon.”

“He’ll give me an earful for sure-”

“I’m not talking about my face Asmodeus.”

Suddenly making eye contact with Barbatos was more than Asmo could bear.

“He should know, it doesn’t have to be tonight, but you should tell him.”

Finally Asmo’s shoulders slumped. Barbatos was right.

“But in my own time?”

“Just don’t wait til the day your little one is here.”

Barbatos was joking with him, and Asmo couldn’t help but crack a smile.

The butler stood and helped him to his feet. He stayed close behind Asmodeus as they walked back to their campsite. The fire was still burning just as it was when he left it, his plate still untouched. Barbatos would be making him eat as soon as he touched base with Solomon. They entered the tent, which, thanks to magic, was much cozier on the inside than the outside. It was rare that he would conjure something like this. It was really only when he needed to bring a quarter of his study with him. 

Solomon's posture straightened as the duo entered and he turned to greet them with a smile on his face. But that smile quickly dropped when he took in their appearances. Before he could say a word, Barbatos lifted a hand.

"Everything's fine, I had just startled Asmodeus, I should have been more mindful." 

Asmo squeezed his arm.

"Even so we wouldn't want that to bruise now would we?" Solomon stood and placed a hand on Barbatos' cheek. Asmo could feel it in his bones, the specific feeling that always radiated from Solomon's magic. But under his current set of circumstances, it made his stomach churn.

"Good as new."

Solomon's face fell again and he felt Asmo's forehead with the back of his hand. His touch sent a mini shock wave through him, one that made his heart flutter and that almost sent him back into  a haze. He leaned into the touch, a soft trill leaving his lips as he did.

"Are you alright Asmo? You look off."

Not yet.

He would tell him. 

Just not now.

"I believe I could be of assistance," Barbatos stepped in, "If I am correct, Asmodeus hasn't eaten dinner yet. I can fix his plate again and bring it in."

"That would be wonderful, thank you Barbatos."

Asmodeus could already feel himself slipping further into Solomon's touch. He was so enraptured with the very idea of his husband, that he didn't notice when they had moved to sit on the bed nor when Barbatos returned with his plate with significantly more food than what had been on it before. 

"Keep your strength up friend."

Asmo could hear the smile in his voice.

Solomon hummed and picked up the fork, "I think, I'd like to feed you, if that is okay my Darling."

And of course, it was more than okay. Barbatos’ food was wonderful on its own, and having Solomon feed him only heightened the experience.

Despite what had happened mere hours ago, Asmo couldn't help but feel content, comfortably snuggled up between his husband and a close friend. His legs entangled with Solomon's as he held Barbatos close. He wouldn't have had it any other way. In fact, the tiniest contest from Barbatos had Asmo almost enter a fit. 

He would tell Solomon about his suspicions at a later time. But for now, he would enjoy the company of their little trio, and the addition that had decided to make their presence known.