#also this is on mobile so excuse any mistakes

[sad-solaris]

Guess? - Sirius Black

Summary: Sirius loves to guess the color of his girlfriends underwear

Warnings: suggestive, allusions to sex but not the actual act (foreplay), drinking, female reader

Word count: about 1500

A/N (Please read!): Hello!! Okay, I haven’t written anything in close to 7 years and never on this blog so fair warning for everything that follows. I’ve also never written anything smutty before so again, sorry if this is terrible🤍 I would like to continue with writing on this blog but would love to hear any thoughts you have when reading this! English isn’t my first language so warning for that too.

Again, I haven’t written in several years so preemptive excuses for any mistakes. I’ve just been listening to Charli���s guess a lot, and the marauders are my current muses so🤷🏽‍♀️, enjoy I guess!

(This was also written on mobile so again, again, again -Sorry!)

It’s unlike Sirius to be so disenchanted with the lively atmosphere of Londons nightlife. but on this specific outing he can hardly be at blame for the daze clouding his mind.

There’s a step down from the bar area to the dance floor, giving those lingering by the bar an overlook of the crowd dancing the night away. Sirius takes a sip from the bottle he ordered from the bar, the fizzy liquid does little to quell his racing pulse.

His eyes scan over the crowd for a short instant, he didn’t need to search particularly hard before he zeroes in on one person in particular. Your hair catches the color changing lights as it sways with your carefree movements, the pinstripe pants clings to your hips and bottom in a way that makes Sirius’ mouth dry up quickly despite his attempts to water it with the bottle in his hand, a hand coming up to tug a lock of dark hair behind his hair.

The black vest you recently purchased clung nicely to your body, accentuating your chest in a way that made his jeans tighten.

Sirius’ eyes swept over your frame several times before they once again focused on your hips. The pants were a favorite of his, and although floor length pants in any other circumstance may be a more modest clothing item, the pinstripe pattern stretched deliciously over your ass making Sirius tighten his grip on the bottleneck.

Sirius was enchanted with the sight on the dance floor, your hips swaying to the beat of the music. Despite the wonderful sight in front of him, Sirius couldn’t help his imaginative mind from wondering what might hide beneath those pants he was so infatuated with. The longer Sirius’ eyed your dancing form, the further his mind wandered from the London club. If you had gotten ready at your shared apartment he would have had the luxury to participate in your pre-party routine. Your usual shared routine having been passed over in favor of you getting ready at Marlenes, the birthday girl having summoned her closest girlfriends for pregames at her apartment.

Sirius was obviously no stranger to the body beneath your clothes. Much to the annoyance of the rest of the marauders who had been forced to listen to him wax poetically about your legs, the curve of your arms, and that oh so pretty neck of yours. No, Sirius was no stranger to your body. But standing here in this nightclub, Sirius liked to imagine what you were hiding under your pants.

Was it the pretty pink pair he had picked up a few months back? The ones with the matching bra? He recalls how your face had flushed when he held up the magenta colored piece of fabric, and how you had tried to argue that you were in no need for even more clothes, but had shut up when he so easily countered that “darling, I’m a selfish man, if anything this are more for me than they are for you”. And true to his words, Sirius was more than satisfied with the way the pretty pink had laid against your skin. His hands had mapped out every crease and crevice of your lingerie clad body later that night.

The jeans he had chosen for tonight suddenly felt even tighter than they had a minute ago. His eyes still never leaving his dancing girlfriend. But ones again they drifted down to your ass. Maybe you had forgone the pink pair today, he can recall that you wore them not too long ago to a date night. Perhaps you had decided on the nude colored ones, the ones that give the illusion that you weren’t wearing any at all?

Sirius thinks back to several weeks ago, on one of those odd mornings where he had been up with the sun, leaving you to rest for a little while longer. He had sat by the kitchen window sipping his morning coffee and looking out onto the street below, anything but envious as he watched passersby fight against the cold winds of a rainy morning. He had greeted you with a smile when as you joined him in the kitchen, the pajama pants you’d borrowed from him hung low on your hips. Sirius eyed you with that same easy smile as you walked over to the counter to get your own cup.

His breath had however caught in his throat when you had reached up into the cupboard for your favorite mug. The simple t-shirt you were wearing rising up. From where he sat a couple meters from you it appeared that you had forgone wearing underwear under the borrowed pajama pants. The image had had his boxers tighten slightly and distracted him enough to the point where he barely noticed that you had turned around to lean against the counter, your coffee mug nestled in your hands.

His attention drew back to your face as you addressed him by name, “hmm what was that darling?“

“oh nothing Siri, you just seemed distracted“. Sirius licked his lips, his own mug long forgotten on the kitchen table. His eyes drew back to your face as his lips curled into a confident smirk, “You know I’m always distracted when you’re around love“ he spoke lowly as you hid behind your coffee mug, “did you forget your underwear this morning darling?“ he had continued in an attempt to fluster you further. Your brows had furrowed, “what do you mean?“, you lifted your t-shirt to above your bellybutton reveling the skin colored sheer pair you were wearing, Sirius’ eyes darkening at the action. “I guess they kind of look see through“ you had chuckled before taking another sip.

Your brows had furrowed when your usually talkative boyfriend hadn’t answered with a quip of his own. Your mug lowering to reveal the hungry look in his eyes, the tight fabric around his crotch indicating that the otherwise quiet morning wouldn’t last very much longer.

“Careful, anyone who doesn’t know you might think you’re an ogling creep“ Sirius couldn’t have hindered how his body jumped as Lily appeared at his side, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her face at having successfully frightened the otherwise confident man. “har-har Evans, I happen to know someone even worse than me“. Lily chuckled as he tried to divert the attention towards James and away from himself, “She looks good tonight” she continued, ignoring his attempted diversion.

Sirius’ attention returned to your smiley face, your body swaying with the music as you and Marlene serenaded each other the song currently playing from the speakers, your hands outstretched towards one another. Even if he had tried to, Sirius doubted he could’ve stopped the genuine smile that stretched wide over his lips, pointedly ignoring how Lily muttered a short ‘whipped’ before leaving him alone once again, that previous smile never leaving her own lips. Sirius could barely wait to get you alone, suddenly thankful that the taunt fabric of his jeans hid at least some of his growing affection.

-

Later in the evening, as Sirius has you laid out in front of him on your shared bed, your heaving chests pressed tightly against each other as you seem to breathe in tandem. Sirius’ lips briefly leave yours in favor of roaming your neck, leaving teasing nips at your skin. Your heavy breaths intermingled with soft moans when bites down particularly hard at the junction between your neck and shoulder. The sounds are music to his ears as he works your pants zipper down, the buttons of your vest top already having been worked open in the hallway, a darkening mark just above the cup of your bra replacing the fabric that had previously covered that spot.

A particular high moan pulls Sirius away from your neck, admiring the tiny bite marks he’s left behind. He straightens up between your legs at the foot of the bed. Sirius looks at your face, the adoration in your eyes make him simultaneously want to melt through the floor boards and scream at the top of his lungs, happiness radiating off of him in waves.

His eyes travel down your body for the millionth time today as his hands finish pulling down the zipper, a gentle pat at your thigh signaling for you to raise your hips as he works your pants down your legs, they’re discarded in a pile on the bedroom floor as his attention once again this evening returns to your hips, this time unhindered by any fabric as he takes in the lacy black material of your underwear. Trailing his fingers along the waistband and over the little bows sitting at both sides just above your hip bone.

The soft wine of his name finally pulls Sirius’s attention back to you. The pupils of his eyes having nearly taken over that lovely shade of grey you’re so used to. His grin widens when your eyes meet, you beckon him back up to your lips, desperate to feel the closeness he’s depriving you of.

But you can’t be to upset when instead of crawling back up to your lips he sinks to the floor on his knees, his hands and eyes once again returning to your underwear.

Perhaps he was wrong in his guesses at the club, but Sirius can’t seem to pay any mind to that right now. Not when your breathy calls of his name intermingles with the soft moans of earlier.

[solomons-poison]

Overworked

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: Uhhhh inspired by some history of burn out at work... >>; and just general issues with perfectionist ideas. Honestly, this has been in my drafts for nearly two years now. I was unhappy with how it sounded, but much like the message in this piece, I realized I need to be okay with less-than-perfect things. So cleaned it up a little bit and here you go. Written and edited on mobile so please excuse any formatting issues

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: GN reader, angst to fluff, general insecurities, crying, reader ignoring signs of sickness; Lucifer fluff, no established relationship but Lucifer is very soft on reader~

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 4652

You should have known something was coming on before it got this bad, but unfortunately, you had a bad habit of ignoring body signals, which was ultimately your downfall.

You'd been feeling... off, for the past couple of days. More exhausted than usual, decreased appetite, just generally run down. You often found yourself in a daze, losing concentration on anything that wasn't your work assignments. It didn't help that the coursework at R.A.D. was naturally more difficult for you as a human, dealing with school subjects you never dreamed of or would ever encounter in the human realm. It was also a busy time in the school year, with big exams coming up and the workload increasing in difficulty by the day, so you attributed your exhaustion to this and wrote it off. Of course, by the time you realized what was going on, it was too late. This was mistake #1.

You woke up in the morning to your blaring alarm, feeling tired and sluggish again, and noticed the missed alarms on your phone. Although you occasionally slept through one or two alarms, you almost never slept this late unless you wanted to. But you didn't have time to think about the reasons and rationale on why your body sought so much extra rest. Instead, you pushed yourself through your confusion and sleepiness to get dressed and head down for breakfast as quickly as possible, hoping Lucifer wouldn't punish you too harshly. Mistake #2.

As you started to leave your room, you couldn't help but shiver a little and quickly grabbed a cardigan to wear over your uniform. It wasn't unusual for the air to feel chilly in the Devildom, thanks to the lack of sunlight. However, the chill seemed to be bone-deep this morning, and something in you felt the cardigan was going to be no help. In general, everything in you was screaming to take a day off and rest, but one of your classes had a quiz later that day that you knew you couldn't miss. Once again, you found yourself pushing forward regardless of the glaring warning signs in your peripheral vision.

Mistake #3.

By the time you made it to the dining room, everyone was already seated, including Belphie, a true testament to just how much you overslept. Everyone turned to glance at you except Beel, who was more focused on his food as per usual. Part of your brain noticed Lucifer looking at you a moment longer than the others, but it was forgotten as the second born pointed his fork at you accusingly.

"Finally, human! I thought ya were gonna sleep all day, with your alarm goin' off like that," he said.

"Sorry, Mammon. I guess I must have been sleeping pretty deeply," you replied, smiling sheepishly. You knew he was mostly pulling your leg, but your phone alarms had a tendency to be on the loud side and felt guilty for disturbing any of the brothers with the noise. "I don't even remember going to bed either."

"I don't think that's unusual, I do that all the time," Belphie piped up from down the table, earning pointed looks from the others.

You didn't miss the way the eldest brother's eyes sneaked up to look at you upon hearing your statement, though, clearly studying your face.

"Are you feeling alright, MC? You do seem to look rather tired this morning," Lucifer commented, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

You knew the second you made eye contact you'd be doomed to an interrogation, so you barely spared a glance before training your gaze on your breakfast as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm sure I just stayed up too long studying for this quiz I've got today." But even as you said the words, you knew something wasn't right, and it only seemed to be getting worse the longer you sat there.

You could feel it in the air that Lucifer was unsatisfied with that answer, but he remained silent and you continued on with your food.

By the time you'd finished your breakfast, only a few brothers remained in the dining room after your late arrival. Beel and Belphie were both there. But strangely enough, it was Lucifer still being there that really confused you, given his penchant for being early to everything. Unfortunately, your fatigue-addled brain simply couldn't put forth the effort to think hard about the reason. The chill from earlier had now settled deep in your bones, and everything about the situation was screaming "wrong!!".

Once again ignoring the strange phenomena, you stood to bring your dishes back to the kitchen, but you were hit almost instantly by a wave of dizziness and shivering, knees buckling and your vision turning dark as you stumbled forward. You managed to catch yourself on a chair and stayed upright, but all three brothers were instantly on their feet. Lucifer got to you first, his gloved hand gripping your upper arm to steady you further.

"MC! Are you all right? What's wrong?" he questioned, voice rich with concern and a deep frown on his face. Beel and Belphie crowded around, watching you for any risk of falling.

You took a moment to breathe, cold sweat running down your back, fighting hard against the sensations running through your body, and worked up the strength to look up at the first born. "I'm OK. Sorry," you said, smiling shakily, but Lucifer's frown only deepened at your response. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"This is more than fatigue, MC. Are you certain you're not sick?"

You gathered the strength to stand a little taller. As you did, something in the back of your brain was yelling at you again that this was a mistake, to sit back down, to call out sick, rest, anything but go to class. But your stubbornness and anxiety won out, knowing that missing just the one class would really put you behind your studies, and you prided yourself on your ability to work hard on your own. You hadn't spent months of pushing yourself, working overtime and scouring textbook after textbook, to quit now from some measly sickness. Your brain just couldn't rationalize any other way around it.

"Really, Lucifer, I'm OK. You don't need to worry so much—" you managed to say, but as the last words left your mouth, your last bit of strength finally ran out, and a blanket of darkness came down on your vision as you lost consciousness.

“MC–!” “Hey!” Multiple voices called out as you passed out in front of them.

Beel caught your body as you fell back out of Lucifer's hold, and he quickly picked up your legs to hold onto your unconscious body. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin and a sad frown twisted his features.

"I think they have a fever," he said, holding you close to himself, and Belphie leaned in to take a closer look at your face.

Lucifer could feel his face fall at Beel's statement, but steeled himself quickly before either of his brothers could notice. However, all it would take is a closer look to see the worry evident in his dark ruby eyes. He sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as he quickly made up a plan to deal with this new development.

"Beel, could you bring MC up to their room?" Lucifer asked. "I'm going to contact Solomon for some medicine to help with their illness." Beel nodded and started to leave the dining room with you cradled in his arms, Belphie following close behind. However, just before they stepped through the doorway, Lucifer stopped them briefly. "And do not bring this up with the others. If anyone else hears MC is sick, they're all going to leave class to come here and MC needs to rest. I will tell them when it’s appropriate."

He could tell both younger brothers wanted to say something about that, but luckily, they simply nodded and continued on their way. Once he was alone, Lucifer took a moment to himself to stop and breathe, anxiety coursing through his veins at the situation. But he shook it off as best he could before sending a notice out to Solomon, and another notice to Lord Diavolo and Barbatos to alert about your absence. He would have time to fret later, but for now, he needed to focus on you and making sure that you were taken care of. The last thing he needed was to let something terrible happen to one of the human exchange students and possibly disappoint Lord Diavolo… at least, that's what he told himself. But really, he knew it was more than that. Pushing those thoughts away, he shook his head and moved onwards, focusing on the task at hand.

After sending his messages, he quickly gathered some basic supplies, washcloths and a bowl for water to make a cold compress, as well as an extra blanket, and brought them up to your room where Belphie and Beel were waiting. You'd been laid out on your bed covered by a light blanket, your face contorted in discomfort. Lucifer could feel his heart twist in his chest at your visible pain.

"I will take over from here, you can go now," he said, setting down his supplies and removing his cloak.

Belphie frowned, crossing his arms in frustration. "MC is sick, we're not going anywhere. Class can wait–" he started, but Lucifer cut him off with a glare.

"No, you are not staying here," Lucifer said definitively. "MC needs to rest, and they cannot do that with a crowd in the room. Solomon is on his way here with medicine and I will be taking care of them in the meantime."

Belphie practically bristled, the tension in the room almost palpable between the eldest and youngest brothers, but Beel placed a hand on Belphie's shoulder, attempting to calm him down.

"Look, I don't care if you don't attend class today," Lucifer continued, his stress levels exhausting him of energy to fight. "But I want MC to get the rest they need. Until Solomon arrives and we can contact a more knowledgeable physician on human illnesses, we don't know how sick they are. I will keep you updated if anything changes, but for now, you must leave."

Beel and Belphie were silent for a long minute, not breaking eye contact with Lucifer. Eventually, they relented, however, and Belphie sighed, turning away towards the door.

"Fine, we'll go. Come on, Beel," Belphie muttered, going out the door with one last glance to your sleeping form.

Beel started to follow, but turned to Lucifer at the last moment. “We can pick up some food for MC to help them feel better. Would that be okay?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the request before softening, knowing his brothers were simply worried about their precious human. He nodded, and Beel smiled happily. “Yes, that will be fine. I believe easy to eat foods will be best, something to make into a soup or broth. I’ll also ask Solomon for recommendations on human world foods.”

“Awesome, I’ll tell Belphie,” Beel replied, smiling back, and headed out the door.

Now that Lucifer was finally alone with you, he heaved a great sigh that was almost too loud for the sudden silence. He shed his coat, placing it over the chair at your desk, before rolling up his sleeves and removing his gloves. He retrieved some cool water from your bathroom and dipped the washcloth in, then took a seat beside your bed, wringing the washcloth before pressing it to your forehead.

The fever had caused a sweat to break out, and your face was twisted in pain even in your sleep. The sound of your labored breathing weighed heavily on Lucifer's mind. But the cooling effects of the washcloth seemed to alleviate your discomfort a little as your face relaxed, and seeing you a little more comfortable eased the ache in his heart. The weight that had been sitting on his shoulders ever since you fainted lifted a little, giving him the slightest bit of relief, and he turned around to refresh your washcloth.

“Mmm.. Lu..cifer…”

Lucifer’s ears perked up almost embarrassingly fast upon hearing you say his name, and his head whipped around to look at you. However, it was evidently just talking in your sleep as your eyes remained closed and your breathing was even. He reached over to pull the blanket up, tucking you in, and did his best to ignore the pounding of his heart.

Although you two weren't a couple, you still seemed to hold a special place in his heart alongside his brothers. You were family now, but even that word didn't seem sufficient for the way he felt. And seeing you so sick all of a sudden gave him a greater shock than he was prepared for. It was moments like this that he realized how truly mortal you were, that you didn’t recover from sickness the same way Lucifer and his brothers could.

He couldn’t even be sure of what you were sick with. For all he knew, he was overreacting and you were likely fine. But still, the fear of the unknown settled deep in his heart, unable to rest until he could get an answer. For now, all he could do was swallow down his worries and continue on with what he was doing, trying to ignore the desperate aching in his chest.

Half an hour passed before a knock resounded at your bedroom door, and Lucifer okayed entry without taking his eyes off of you. He was settled back in your chair, sleeves still rolled up in an unusual display of casualness, although his crossed arms betrayed his true feelings. Solomon quietly opened the door, peeking his head in before entering, a small satchel in his arms that clinked softly as he moved it. Barbatos had come with him and trailed through silently, letting Solomon take the lead.

“Wow, MC really is sick,” Solomon commented, seeing your quiet form tucked in on the bed. However, he wasn’t sure which to be more surprised by, the fact you had fallen ill like this or the sight of Lucifer dressed down, sitting at your bedside.

Lucifer sighed, moving his stiff form now to turn and look at your guests. “Yes, they were looking awful all during breakfast, and after getting up from their chair, they just fainted. I’m not sure what it is, but they have some kind of fever. I’ve been applying this compress but of course we don’t have any human world medicine here.”

Solomon nodded, setting down his satchel on the top of your desk. “I’ve brought a potion that will help bring down their fever for now,” he said, removing a carefully packaged vial filled with a fascinating colored liquid. “Unfortunately, I’m not a doctor so I can’t treat the root cause, but I’ll do my best until a physician can get here.”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Lucifer said, nodding. He glanced at Barbatos, who was standing silently at the foot of your bed. “I didn’t expect you to come here, Barbatos. Did you need something?”

Barbatos only shook his head.

“No, when I received your message that MC was sick, I thought it best to bring some tea for them to drink," he replied, bringing forward a small tin. "Peppermint tea is supposed to provide some medicinal properties, such as relieving fever and nausea. Once MC is awake, perhaps they can drink it to help their symptoms. I've also called on the services of a doctor who is familiar with human health and illnesses, they should be arriving soon."

Lucifer accepted it, taking the tin and placing it on your bedside table. "Yes, that will be good, thank you," he said, prompting a small smile from the butler.

Lucifer reached over and gently shook your shoulders, feeling terrible for waking you but wanting to get the potion in your body already. “MC, can you hear me?” he said softly, and your face scrunched a little in response. “Solomon has brought some medicine to help your fever, you should try to take some.”

Solomon and Barbatos couldn't help glancing at each other at the demon's gentle tone.

"Lucifer..?" You mumbled, bleary eyes blinking several times as you struggled to wake up.

"Yes, it's me," he responded, heart fluttering again at the sound of your voice. "Do you remember what happened? You had passed out after breakfast."

"Oh. That's wild."

Lucifer couldn't help himself as his eyebrows shot up at your response, which was obviously the product of still being half-asleep. But it was a very you response, and he refrained from laughing. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cutoff as you suddenly gasped, shooting up from the bed.

"My quiz! What happened to my quiz?" you shouted, but the outburst was short-lived as the sudden change in elevation made you waver, your fatigued body not strong enough to handle this.

Lucifer caught your body as you started to fall backwards, and he gently eased you back onto your pillow. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things to think about now, a quiz was on your mind?

"You passed out in front of me and you're worried about a quiz?" he couldn't help but question. "Diavolo was made aware of what happened, you don't have to worry about your class. We're more concerned with your fever, we think you may be sick."

Solomon took the chance to step forward, grabbing the colorful vial he'd brought earlier.

"Here, MC, this potion should help you feel better for now. But we're trying to find you a doctor just to make sure everything is okay," he said, uncorking the vial. Despite your dubious look, you accepted and drank it down with his help before settling back down on the pillow. You could immediately feel the effects of the potion, already getting some relief from the fatigue in your body and the cold sweats plaguing you.

Barbatos also took the opportunity to speak up, stepping up to the end of your bed. “I’ve also brought you some peppermint tea leaves. Please let me know if you’d like me to brew some tea for you. The Young Lord is wishing for your speedy recovery.”

“Thanks, Solomon, that does make me feel a little better. And not right now, Barbatos, but that does sound really good, I appreciate it. Please tell Diavolo thank you for me, as well.” You closed your eyes for a moment, relaxing against your pillow, before opening them again and looking at the three people in your room. “I’m sorry for worrying everyone, I promise I’ll get better soon.”

Lucifer only shook his head at you, pulling up your blanket around your body and tucking you in.

“You can hardly blame us for worrying about you, you have left a strong impression on all of us. Just focus on resting for now, a physician should be coming by soon,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. The other two smiled back at you, as well, before Solomon said his goodbyes and left.

Barbatos stayed behind to wait, eventually making you the tea in the meantime and just involving you in some small talk to comfort you. Once the physician arrived, Barbatos and Lucifer both left to give you some privacy, nervously waiting outside your door for the results. Lucifer even settled on the ground against the wall, sleeves still rolled up and hair a mess, uncharacteristically ruffled.

Although you had seemed in better spirits after taking Solomon’s potion and resting, Lucifer still felt restless, waiting for your assessment to be finished. When he heard your door click open, it was almost embarrassing how quickly he shot to his feet, afraid for the worst. But the physician quickly assuaged his fears.

Despite the fever and the passing out, everything pointed to simple burnout, caused by you overworking yourself in an attempt to get ahead. You would need to wait out the remainder of the fever, taking medicine as needed to help it along. But overall, the most important thing you needed now was rest, and plenty of it. Thankfully, that would be easy enough to arrange.

Unfortunately, the answer was not a surprising one. Lucifer knew that, despite the offers from him and the other RAD council members, you often declined on any kind of assistance or tutoring with your work. His own sin prompted him to say it was pride that prevented you from accepting outside help. But he knew that in general, you felt it could be a weakness, especially being in an environment with those that still looked down on humans and were uncertain of your place in their society. Deeper than that, he also knew you considered yourself a burden, trying to reduce your presence whenever possible, leaving you to work twice as hard to complete the same tasks.

Sometimes he wished that you would rely on him a little more, come to him when you needed help or just a listening ear. But if anyone understood the need to maintain their pride, it was the the Avatar of Pride himself. Lucifer also knew he hadn’t always been the most supportive, memories of your new arrival and the way he treated you burned into his mind like a shameful brand, so he couldn’t blame you for keeping things to yourself. But maybe, after this whole episode was resolved and you were back to full health, things could be different.

He stepped into your room once the physician departed, and you were sitting up in bed, propped up by your pillows. You were already looking much better than earlier, and it eased his heart immensely. Lucifer didn’t even need to say anything, as your sheepish expression said it all, but he still wanted to make sure of something.

“I trust you understand what the doctor has told you about your condition and what to do now,” he said. He couldn’t help gravitating towards you, ending up at the side of your bed once more.

You nodded, squeezing your hands nervously in front of you.

“I know, I understand,” you said, your voice meek and rough from your exhaustion.

Honestly, the whole thing was embarrassing. You were just trying to keep up with your classmates, make sure you weren’t embarrassing the Prince of the Devildom or the Seven Avatars that were hosting you in their home. And for a while, it seemed to be working. Sure you felt a little tired, but at least your grades were exemplary. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy, or stay that easy.

As you recalled what happened up until you passed out, and bits and pieces of Lucifer caring for you afterwards came to mind, you found yourself unable to make eye contact. Your body felt hot again, but it wasn’t the fever this time. Not only did you end up passing out from your efforts, but it was Lucifer that took care of you in the end. It was mortifying, truly. But almost as if sensing your feelings, Lucifer sat at the edge of your bed, his still-uncovered hand moving to cover both of yours.

The touch surprised you, making you look up finally, but his next words were what truly took you off guard.

“I know that you feel you have to work hard to keep up with your studies,” Lucifer said, squeezing your hands gently. “And while we— Diavolo and I— appreciate your efforts, the whole point of you coming to the Devildom was not to get good grades. You are part of the exchange program, but you are also our guest. I know we have not always been as welcome as we should have been, but we hope that you can come to us when you feel that you’re struggling. At least, I hope that you can come to me, if you are struggling.”

You couldn’t help it as your eyes widened. A soft look you’d never noticed before filled Lucifer’s face, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. You’d seen a lot of expressions cross Lucifer’s face, but this was the rarest of all, and one you never expected to be aimed towards you.

This, combined with his words, was all too much for you at once. Suddenly, your vision was swimming and something wet was falling down one of your cheeks, dripping onto your shirt. Almost immediately, Lucifer’s smile dropped in panic, and through your tears, you could just barely make out his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for words.

“Oh—” Damn it. Lucifer wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he told you how he felt, but it certainly wasn’t tears. He quickly reached up, brushing away your tears with his fingers, his touch awkward but achingly gentle. Of course, his touch only made you cry harder.

“I– I’m sorry, MC, it wasn’t my intention to make you cry,” he said, finally remembering a handkerchief he keeps in his vest, and patted your cheeks with it, trying desperately to slow your tears.

You struggled to calm yourself down, wanting to reassure the demon of any misunderstanding.

“I-it’s not that,” you said, involuntary gasps breaking up your words. “I just feel so stupid. Like I just keep making the same dumb mistakes over and over again, no matter what. And now here I am, sick in bed and you’re having to take care of me, and you’re being so nice, and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Nice” wasn’t a word often used to describe Lucifer, at least not anymore. And he could guess that it’s not a word you’d used to describe him in the past. It also hurt him to hear how you saw yourself and all your efforts. Although you came across as reckless and a little ridiculous at times, you were also genuine and a hard worker. Lucifer’s pride made it difficult for him to admit many things, but he genuinely came to appreciate the way you treated your studies, unlike some of his brothers. Even if your grades were poor, even if you struggled with the subjects, he simply admired your sincerity in everything you did, and that was enough to make him happy. He just wished that you could feel the same.

“I think you’re being generous by calling me nice. But you don’t need to do anything special, MC,” he said. Finally, your tears were starting to dry a little bit, easing his own aching heart. “We all appreciate your efforts, but we just want you to keep being yourself, more than anything. Keep reminding us that you are human, in the way only you can. Of course, if you can do that without worrying me sick, that would also be appreciated.”

The last part made you laugh, and you couldn’t help but sniffle as the crying finally ended.

“Okay.”

“And if you’re having trouble with a subject, many of us would be happy to help you. Satan does make an excellent tutor, and despite Belphie’s knack for sleeping in class, he often has a good grasp on the subjects as well.” Now that your eyes were dry, Lucifer put the damp handkerchief back in his pocket in order to use a hand to squeeze yours. His other hand brushed over your cheek, rubbing softly, soothingly.

You could only nod, more tears threatening to rip a sob from you if you opened your mouth again. But no more words were needed, getting to relax your impossible standards for once and finally feeling at peace knowing that there were others there to support you, including a certain red-eyed devil at your side.

As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💜 You can also support me by buying a coffee ☕️!

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Unpacking in the Infirmary

Fem!Reader

Summary: Restock day in the Infirmary has always been important for those who live in the Fortress. Especially with it being that place to go if something were to happen to an inmate or one of the staff members. With the amount of times Wriothesley has gotten hurt over the years, it's not surprising he ended up in there on one of those restock days. Though he didn't think he would also help with unpacking things as well.

Words: 3,039

AN: Once again I wrote a majority of this on my phone. I honestly can't believe how much I've written on my phone this year already. Hopefully, this doesn't become a major habit. Thank you @milkstore for reading over the fic. You caught so many mistakes due to my phone thinking capitalizing mid-sentence is a normal thing to do.

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Cleaning a wound. I personally wouldn't consider it too detailed but if you find any of that uncomfortable please go check out one of my other Wriothesley fics.

“You two should go take your lunch break already. I ate a late breakfast.” Y/N lifted a box of supplies from the surface and placed it on the table. Restock days had become important for her to be there for. It was easier to have someone who was not a Melusine to do any heavy lifting.

“You look tired. Are you sure you don't want to take a break now?” Sigewinne asked. Although her ask was more of telling her to take a break.

“I'll take a break when you or Ottnit get back. I promise.” She reassured Sigewinne. “Plus if we time breaks right we can get this done fast.”

Ottnit looked at Y/N before looking at Sigewinne. “She has a date.” She guessed.

Y/N rolled her eyes hiding a small smile. “Three days from now.” She answered before giving the real reason. “I promised I'd help my mother move her art studio into her new house after work.”

“It's more reason to take a break. You could have requested someone to take your place today.” Sigewinne reasoned.

“I know but I wouldn't have been able to give you those stickers for another week. It's been pretty peaceful down here lately. Let me have work as an excuse to see you two.” Y/N looked back to the box and grabbed a boxcutter to rid it of tape. “Just go enjoy lunch. You're just delaying how long till I take a break.”

Sigewinne accepted fate not wanting to argue it creating more of the delay. She and Ottnit left the infirmary for lunch. The room was left quiet while Y/N took inventory on the restock.

All the things that needed to be under a lock had been put away already. Next would be anything they kept out in the infirmary that should be easy to grab. Lastly, restocking the various first aid kits that were around the Fortress. Any mobile ones had been brought in already in the morning. The large stationary ones would be the last thing for today or one of the first things in the morning.

It was mindless work to her at this point. Open the box, check the inventory slip in the box, count to see if the amount matches, and mark off on the checkbox of what was requested if it matches. And if it didn’t, make a note. It was always easy to fall into the rhythm of this work.

Though a bit annoying that the monthly restock day had to line up with her mother's art studio move. There really wasn’t much she could do about it since she wanted to be there for both. Say she did request someone else to go down to the fortress instead of her. Y/N could imagine her coworkers on the surface asking if something was wrong with her and Wriothesley’s relationship. And as funny as it was to watch some of the older ladies try and make threats about if he dared hurt her, there really was no reason to rile them up with nothing.

Y/N finished up the box she had been working with. It was just bandages of different sizes. Luckily everything was all in there. She picked the box back up off the table and placed it within the pile of boxes that had already been checked. She picked up a new box, beginning to repeat the process all over again.

She lost count on the box filled with sterilized gloves when she heard the all-so-familiar knock at the wall. It was a firm but gentle knock that echoed throughout the infirmary.

“Hey.” Wriothesley introduced himself as he made his way down into the room. “By any chance is the hydrogen peroxide already out?”

“The current bottle doesn't have a lot in it but it is out. What happened?” Y/N turned away from the box and moved to get out what he asked for along with some cotton balls and bandages, opting for what was already out in the infirmary.

“There was a fight that broke out and I went to break it up. One guy was upset I was breaking up the fight, so he tried taking a knife out on me. I broke a knife. Now the guards got an eye on the two of them.” Wriothesley explained. He was peeling off the blood-soaked wraps that were around his right hand.

Y/N blinked. “You can't say you broke a knife so casually.” It was moments like that where she knew she still wasn't fully used to his behavior. It didn't matter how long she had known him before they began dating, it wasn't normal to hear anyone say they broke a knife in a fight. She moved into washing her hands.

“No, ‘Are you okay’?” He threw the wraps away in a bin that was meant for Anything that came in contact with any sort of bodily fluids. Also known as the bloody cotton and bandages bin to most of the Fortress. All because they were however many miles under the ocean didn't mean they got to skip important procedures to help keep things safe.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry.” She spoke sarcastically as she dried off her hands. “Your Grace, does your wound cause you great pain? Whatever will I do now that you are gravely injured?”

“Gravely! Shit. It's just some cuts on my palm. Where did you get ‘gravely’ from? It won't kill me.”

“Oh, so you can handle it yourself.” She teased as she pulled gloves on getting ready so she could examine the wound.

“Some nurse you are. I thought going to the infirmary was supposed to be welcoming.”

“That's what you get for asking a pharmacist to be a nurse. I'm nowhere near as welcoming.” She joked. “Go sit on the bed.” She moved fast grabbing a clean pair of tweezers.

“Already sitting down Miss.” He spoke in a smug tone she was all too familiar with.

“If you can recognize that you should already be sitting down I would hope you should recognize that you should be more careful.” She turned around and moved towards Wriothesley. Y/N grabbed his wounded hand. She began picking out any small shards of the knife that had gotten stuck within. Luckily not too many. None were deep within the palm as well.

“I can only try to be more careful so much. If you think about it, I helped you not have to deal with an inmate who had a stab wound on restock day. While everyone but you is out for lunch.” Wriothesley reasoned. He looked at the wound already wondering if the count of scars on his body was about to go up.

“I'll give you that.” Y/N finished up with the first part of cleaning up the wound. She had thrown any remnants of the knife in the trash. “You know you are very lucky that Sigewinne wasn’t here to fuss over you. If I had to listen to her ‘I helped raise you, the least you could do is be careful’ lectures while trying to count and move things around, I might go insane.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Yeah.” He drew out the word with a bit of tiredness. “I guess I should thank you for not telling her.”

“Shit.” It was half a response from the hydrogen peroxide touching the new wound and half from what Y/N had said. He thought he was more used to the sting of his wounds being cleaned by now. “Can’t you just let this slide?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow as she began to dab the hydrogen peroxide onto some cotton balls. “I never said I wasn't going to tell her. If I remember right, which I know I'm remembering right, I still have to write this up in your medical file. No exception for staff. Even if you are the Warden, she’s going to find out regardless.”

“You created more work for me on restock day and think I’m gonna let this slide. After I’m done with this I get to go move a whole art studio.”

“Don’t I get special privileges?”

“Everyone with a title is gonna get the same treatment from me. You forget that?” The blood had been cleaned off his hand. And with the wound clean she could begin focusing on wrapping up the wound on his palm.

“I was going for boyfriend privileges.” Wriothesley continued to try and wiggle his way out of Sigewinne learning what happened.

“I am on the clock and not on break so no special treatment. You lost special treatment the moment you walked into the infirmary. If it's serious enough to seek medical care, it's serious enough to be written in your medical file.” 

“Usually I'm very glad that you take your job seriously.”

“Cause it's my job and it would be inappropriate to change procedures just because the patient is you.” Y/N finished wrapping up his palm leaving him plenty of room to move his hand around but keeping the bandages tight enough to stay on throughout the day. “Change the bandages 3 hours from now. You can either do it yourself or have Sigewinne do it for you.”

Wriothesley moved his fingers around testing how much movement he would have. “Thanks, doll. You sure I can't get you to change it instead?”

“I just said I have to go move an art studio later.” She began putting away anything unused that was okay to keep before throwing everything else out. “Or were you not paying attention to what I was saying?”

“I was. You know I could go and help you if you want.” Wriothesley offered. 

Y/N looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Art Studio. As in my mother's art studio.”

“Yeah. You managed to get a photo out of me and you've been saying that your mother wants to meet me. Every time you’ve tried to set up, something has always come up and if I go with you, then you won’t have to worry if I’m using my right hand or not.” He reasoned. It may have also been a bit of quick thinking to avoid disappointing Sigewinne over that he got hurt again. Two birds with one stone kind of thinking.

“But I was thinking like a dinner so we could all get to talk.” She threw out her gloves before moving to sit on the bed on Wriothesley’s left side. “How are we supposed to talk if we are just packing and moving boxes Ri?”

“I could help, go pick up some food for everyone so you don’t have to sit at a restaurant.” He put his arm around Y/N pulling her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Plus it’s my non-dominant hand that’s hurt so I can still help you.” 

“I’ll just have to take you two out to eat after.” He offered.

“I’m already going to be tired after this and I’m just going to be exhausted after helping her move. I’m not going to want to sit down somewhere for dinner.” Y/N argued.

“What if I’m so tired I don’t even want to talk while we eat?”

“I’ll just carry you to your apartment afterward if you are so tired. Quit worrying your pretty little head over it. You need the brain power for more important things.”

It was a well-needed reminder for her. Sometimes it was just too easy to get caught up in worry. “You must really like me a lot if you are willing to carry me like a sack of potatoes.”

Wriothesley laughed. “I was thinking more like a piggyback ride but if you want to be carried like a sack of potatoes, I can. We really should talk about how you not so secretly want me to manhandle you.” He teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have work.” 

“I’ll get you after your shift then. We can go up together.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before standing up from the bed. “You can't go on about how much you want your mother to like me and when the perfect opportunity for a good impression comes up, try and stop me from meeting her.”

“But what if it ends up not being perfect?” She looked up at him. “I really care about you. I want my mother to like you. I want my family to like you.”

“Which is why I’m offering to help with a move. Even then if you keep planning for perfection, nothing will get done. You know that.”

“I know not everything can be perfect. I’ve made my peace with that. But I want this to be perfect.” She stood up looking at him. “I want something good for you outside of here as well.” 

“Don’t worry about things like that. Life is good for me now.” He sighed. “It’s not like anything is forcing me to be here all the time. I know there’s good outside. What's bothering you?”

She sighed. “You remember when I said I was volunteering as the person to come down here to help was just to try something new right?” Y/N started as she began to give the real reason.

“Yeah. It's kind of what we encourage here.”

“Well, I got out of a really bad breakup. And my family was just telling me that person wasn't good.”

“You never told me how bad.” He did remember a mention that she got out of a relationship around two and a half years ago when they first met. She never said much about it and who was he to press her about it back then? 

“I was engaged. I almost signed a lease on a new house with them when everything went down. I just feel like I got blindsided by the show they were putting on. If I listened to my family then everything would have been better for me.” She took a deep breath. “So if they like you, nothing like that will happen to me again.”

“And here I was thinking you were just worrying to worry.” Wriothesley shook his head at himself. “Look, I can't control how people are going to view me. And you can't control if your mother will like me or not.”

“I know that. I just want this to be good. I mean I wanted her to like you even before we started dating. You kind of started to become important in my life.” Y/N looked away from him. “Like I think even after I got that breakup, you were definitely part of the reason I stayed.”

“It's going to be okay. It may not be some storybook picture of perfection but it's going to be better if you try and focus on the good.” He placed his left hand on her shoulder trying to ground her back to reality. “What did you say a few weeks ago? I think you said she would steal a single mora to get thrown in here if she didn't get the chance to meet me at this rate.”

Y/N laughed. “Yeah. I had to tell her that's a horrible idea.”

“It's going to be okay.”

She nodded as she spoke. “Okay.” She looked into his eyes falling into the comforting gaze that looked back at her.

“I'll get you after your shift. I still have to fill out paperwork cause of that fight.” Wriothesley kissed her forehead. “I know it's easier said than done, but try not to overthink it.”

“And if I do?”

“Then we will have to find a way to stop you from thinking about that specifically.”

“It better not be by giving me work. Cause I'm going to be so tired tonight.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not cruel. I was thinking of making sure you aren’t alone so you don't fall back into your worries. At least so someone can pull you back out if you do.”

“Well, Sigewinne and Ottnit should be back soon. So I won’t be alone for too long.”

“You ate lunch already?” Wriothesley asked.

Y/N looked away again. “I ate a late breakfast so I was going to eat lunch once they got back.”

“In here?” He asked concerned. “What happened to only eating in here when there is only one person available?”

“I was actually going to go out to the cafeteria. I didn't bring anything down for lunch today.” It was a break from her normal habit, mostly because she forgot to grab her lunch before leaving her apartment in the city. The sandwich that she made that now sat in her kitchen would be dearly missed.

Wriothesley sighed. “Guess I'll have to take the important job of keeping you company during lunch.” 

“Don't you also have work?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“For one, I’m in charge of this place. And two, I still have to eat lunch myself. Also, I think the Fortress can handle itself while I take care of you. I think people know well enough to only disturb me when I'm with you if it's important.” It was something that he noticed was happening long before the two of them got together. It was already common for people would keep their distance due to their various reasons. It must have been learned to give the two space after people had noticed that Wriothesley’s mood would sour when he had to leave for something that didn’t even require his attention.

“Makes me wonder what your definition of important is now.”

“At the moment, it's keeping you out of your worry spiral. Generally a mix of other things, but the only thing taking me away from you is if something requires my attention to be handled. You are at the top of the list at the moment.” Oh, she just wanted to be in his arms after that. 

“The top of the list?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Are these girlfriend privileges?”

Wriothesley laughed remembering what he said not so long ago. “You can call it that if you want. I would have done this for you regardless though.”

Y/N gave in, finally hugging him. Maybe things would be okay.

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne III

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of reader being at the beach and wearing unspecified swimwear, mentions of Jason being taller than reader, the shittiest vaguest smut you'll ever read (it's separated with ** in case anyone wants to skip it), mentions of past SA, and graphic descriptions of depression (like straight out of my psychopathology textbook). So minors DNI!!!!

Word Count: 6,5K

Read on ao3

Masterlist - Mobile masterlist

Years passed and you got better, better at handling your feelings, at smothering them down so you wouldn't make the same mistake again. Countless identities after and you haven't even been close to getting involved with someone the same way you did with Jason. Now you lived and moved under the name "Penny Lewis", a fake identity as a journalist that would allow you to move around countries to wherever they sent you.  You wouldn't lie to yourself, it was lonely and on some nights you wished you would've said yes to him. But you wouldn't have forgiven yourself if you let your life be defined by him. You knew the consequences of deserting and any happiness a life with him could've bought you would have been overshadowed by guilt. You heard of Joker's death from some people you walked past last time you were in the States, realizing he finally died of whatever disease he was making you slow down on the very same night you escaped. You also found out Batman was still alive and kicking, after that you wondered were Jason was, wasn't he hellbent on killing him?

Now you were stationed in Venezuela, the closest headquarters of your agency were in an entire different country so you were all on your own. Your only company being the agent who you got partnered with, a serious guy, with not much muscles but was a tech expert. The cover was that you were a regular couple on a holiday, but what you were really doing was investigating, someone was training people and forming an army there. You had to find out who and why. You've felt bad about certain missions before, especially when after getting the information you needed your bosses decided not to do anything about it because they deemed the situation was "not important enough", when you were there available and ready to stop a tragedy. What would be the reason for someone to form a secret army in a country under a dictatorship? Maybe they were just trying to get their rights back, free their country. But you sighed and pushed it all down, at least you get to enjoy the sea for a moment.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being observed from a distance . He was doing a routine perimeter check by himself, using it as an excuse to take a walk and be on his own, when he looked around and thought he saw you in the distance from the cliff he was on. He thought it'd be impossible but still presses on the side of his helmet to zoom in, so it was you. You had a different haircut, and hair color but he'd recognize you anywhere. He takes in the sight of you, now older and no longer the teenager he remembered. You were talking to someone, the other person stands up when you turn around to take off your dress and leave it on an arm-chair. He doesn't mean to but his breath hitches when he sees you in your swimwear, guess he didn't get over his crush like he thought. His expression under the mask changes when he sees who you were talking to, a guy, a very friendly guy who puts a hand on your hip and you kiss his cheek. What the fuck? Is the only thing he could think about. Until he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Are we losing time spying on girls on the beach now?" The scoff he lets out in response is almost inaudible under the electronic voice the helmet gave him.

"Fuck off, Wilson" He brushes off the hand on his shoulders and moves along, clearly you were not who he remembered. You moved on when he couldn't, he was holding onto a memory and a moment of his life he knew would never come back. He had to force himself to see what you really were right now, a threat to his plan not an old friend.

Knowing of your presence and your line of work, he instructed his men to run more frequent perimeter checks and be more wary of any breaches or intrusions. So, a few nights after he first saw you, you find yourself sneaking into his base. You were good, stealthy and well-trained, light on your feet and fast- with the addition of being able to stop time. You avoid all eyes, and hide in the dark using the lack of lights to your advantage. Of course the secret military base would have the least amount of lights outside of it to avoid attracting any attention. It was close enough to the city in case anything was needed but also far away enough to go unnoticed. Whoever was running this operation knew what they were doing. You climbed to the roof of the main building, where you thought was most likely to have an office, which would have papers or a computer that you could use to find out who they were. Quick fingers work on picking the lock of a door on the back of it but as soon as you open it you are stopped.

A gun is pressed to your temple and you thought "fuck", you almost made it in.

"Don't move an inch, sweetheart" The man next to you speaks, and then moves your hair with the muzzle "I remember you, no powers, make a move and I'll shoot you"

You weakly nod in response, how did you even get caught? You've been studying their shifts, their patterns, everything. He was not supposed to be here. You raise your hands, signaling defeat, a bullet to your head was one of the things you couldn't heal. He opens the door and pushes you in, it leads to a dark storage unit. With the gun still fixed on your head he walks behind you, telling you were to go. Until you made it to the main room, a few gasps and whispers from the men there are heard, shocked to see someone made it past through all the security measures. You could feel the uncountable amount of eyes on you, the attention making you uneasy- not that your life being threatened didn't make you feel uneasy enough. But if he had orders to kill on sight, you would've been dead by now so you may still have a chance of escaping.

"Someone call the Knight!" He shouts, getting somebody to bind your hands behind your back with a zip tie "this gun leaves her head and we're all fucked"

He was right, you'd go for him first. Maybe only for him and then flee, they wouldn't make a fuss over one casualty. You could still complete your mission. Then you see him walking towards you, a tall man, wearing a helmet- was it electronic? huh? You assume only the helmet is robotic because he moved like a real person, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing you've come across. A robot leading a secret militia, that's a funny story to tell. Everything from his posture to the way he walked and held himself made you think he looked like the boss of this place. His gloved hand holds your jaw and leans down, like he's getting a good look at you under the blue screen of his helmet. You debate for a second if it'd be a good idea to spit on it, you were already fucked there's no other way than down now.

"To think such a pretty face could take us all out before we noticed" You barely hear the whisper of the modulated voice. And you don't know why it angers you to the point all logic is thrown out the window and you decide to take it out on the --much taller than you-- guy in front of you. He acknowledged your strength, what you were capable of doing and called you pretty while he was at it too.

You headbutt him below his chin, figuring that might be a weak point in the helmet. Had he not worn that you would've gone straight for his forehead, it was his fault for putting himself so close to you. He stumbles a few steps back from you, and you could hear the "ohh"s and gasps from the men there. It feels good for about 5 seconds, then you start wondering why you haven't been shot yet. Wasn't the man who found you supposed to be a hit man or something like that? And you were also severely outnumbered, this could have been over a while ago. You hear a robotic chuckle, it probably didn't even hurt him, and then hes grabbing your arm tightly, pushing a gun to your side.

"Adorable" He mocks

"Fuck you" You whisper under your breath, still not ready to go without a fight.

"Party's over, go the fuck home" He screams , squeezing your arm so hard you'll think it will leave a bruise "I'll handle her myself"

He starts guiding you away and for a second you have trouble keeping up with his much longer steps. You huff in annoyance, sure that if you were to stop walking he could hold you up and drag you with how strong his grip was on you. You move quite a lot, you didn't expect the place to be so big, you even go up a set of stairs until he finally opens the door to what looks like an office-kind of. It doesn't look like the place gets much use, and the sole desk only has a few things scattered over it, you doubt any of them had any importance if he took you there. There wasn't even a computer on it and you noted the chair on the other side even had dust on it. What you didn't hear on your way out was the words exchanged between the men, which would definitely have let you guess who hid under the robot mask.

"They know each other?" One of the Knight's most trusted lieutenants asked.

"She's an old ex-girlfriend of his," He clarifies, remembering how you got away. "used to be a real pain in my ass once"

"He knew she was coming?"

Slade just shrugged and walked away, avoiding anymore questions. Of course the kid knew, that's why he had doubled the perimeters check, he wasn't stupid. But it wasn't until now that he put two and two together and realized you were who he was staring at the beach the other day.

He turns you to face the desk with your back to him and it makes you nervous. What was he going to do? You'll freeze him and escape if he tries anything weird, screw a cover. They already knew too much about you so it's not like your cover mattered much anyways. He takes out a knife, God knows from where, and to your surprise uses to cut off the zip tie around your wrists.

"Why are you freeing me?"

"Because I know you wont try anything funny" You recognize the now non-modulated voice, of course it's him. Who else would be running a militia like this? It almost makes you want to laugh, sure this is how you find each other after 5 years. You see the helmet dropped at the desk but you don't dare to turn and face him just yet. You had 5 years to think about everything, to make peace with every choice you took but you were still a little afraid to face him.

"This usual for you?" He asks when you keep quiet, you don't even look at him. He wants to say he's disappointed but he can't. He knows someone like you, pretty and perfect, won't dwell in the past like he does. "Getting caught?"

"No," you reply in a weak whisper "this is my first time actually"

"What about the time-"

"It was on purpose, I was ordered to let myself get captured" You cut him off, crossing your arms in front of yourself, as if trying to shield your body from something you were not quite sure what it was. This was one of the things that would be easier to tell him without looking at his face, not like you are not dying to stare at him and see if he's changed with the years.

"Of course," He scoffs, a gloved hand resting on your shoulder "you just happened to run into your kidnapped boyfriend, lucky me"

You blush despite the situation you were in, you never thought you'd live to see the day you heard Jason calling himself your boyfriend-even if he was using that tone. Even if he had an attitude like that, was he still pissed? even after all this time?

"Jason" You sigh, what now? You tell him about how you were ordered not to look for him any further? How you disobeyed and got yourself punished from insubordination? Though that is probably how you ended up with that suicide --let yourself be captured-- mission that led you to find him.

"What? Can't even look me in the eye?" He sighs too, ending the sentence by whispering your name. "You hate me now?"

"Don't ever say that" You quickly turn around to face him. Was he always this tall? And this huge? He's obviously gained a lot of muscle since the last time you saw him, and probably grew a few inches taller too. Do boys keep growing after they turn 18? Or did he always tower over you this much? You made yourself a mental note to look it up when it was safe. Yeah, you saw him moments ago, but he had the helmet on, you didn't know you were looking at Jason it was different.

He, obviously, still has the J scar on his face, and he looks even more rough than what you remembered. You still think he's handsome, though. And his eyes are just as pretty as you remembered. It feels like the world stopped on its axis when you look at him, your memory pales in comparison to the real thing. Even if his presence has changed, and he feels much more dangerous now, you still see the same boy who would sneak to your room to get his broken ribs fixed and cuddle you. You wanted to believe he was still in there, that all the trouble you went through to help him wasn't for nothing. He's staring at you too, he has been since you entered his view, but now he is not wearing the mask so you can see his eyes trained on you.

"I could never hate you" You wanted to reach for him, touch him, just to make sure it was real but you refrained from doing it. You didn't know if he'd be okay with it, you had to bring yourself back to earth and think about how much he could've changed in the past few years.

"There you are, looking prettier than the day I left you" He apparently has no problem grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks.

"Oh so your memory is intact" you push his hand away, his words reminding you that you were supposed to be mad at him.

"Come on, baby" He's trying to butter you up with the pet name, and you're ashamed to say it's working "You promised me some answers"

"Then ask" You tease, leaning backwards to the desk and resting your palms on it to support yourself.

"Why Marianne? Why Penny?" He asks, your legs were caged in between his not allowing you to leave as he towered over you. Hot, you thought against all logic and reason. You are not surprised to hear him say your new alias either, he must've done his research too.

"They're songs from the sixties" Your head tilted to the side with your gaze still fixed on him. You were just trying to update your memory of him, for future reference.

"The Beatles?"

"And Leonard Cohen, you should look him up." You suggest.

"Who's the guy with you?" You chuckle at the petty question.

"Jealous much? Don't worry about him, it's all make pretend"

"What about your family?" Jason questions, not letting you linger on the fact that he was in fact very jealous of the guy he thought to be your boyfriend.

"My parents died in the accident that gave me my powers... or at least that's what they told me." You sigh, ouch sensitive topic, but you had promised yourself to tell him everything he wanted to know because of the guilt that ate you up when you thought he was dead. You never saw their bodies or any confirmation that this was true. All you had to go from was their word, and they could've killed your parents to secure you as an asset for all you know. "It also gave me amnesia, so I don't remember much of that"

"And you don't have a missing sister?" He follows up, remembering what you told him all those years ago. That you were not interested in fighting crime like he was, you were sneaking out at night to try to find your missing sister. Something you wouldn't tell him much about, and he didn't pressure you into giving out more information because he thought it was a sensitive subject.

"I have a sister," you look down and to the side, as if hiding your face from him "she isn't missing. She's got a normal life and it'll stay like that"

"Is she why you didn't leave with me?" His hand gently guides your chin so you look up at him again, this time you grab his wrist to stop him. Yes , you wanted to say.

"Lose the gloves," You try to change the subject, now holding the most intense eye contact of your life "touch me seriously"

He's taken aback by your request. You wanted what? Him touching you? He's not sure if he should do it, ever since his time in Arkham he's been keeping to himself. Jason's pretty sure the last time he felt skin to skin contact was the last time he saw you, when he grazed your skin pulling your hair back.

"How do your powers work?" He asks, changing the subject too. You were just two people trying so hard to avoid the other to step on their emotional landmines. If one of you got too close the other would be quick to push them away, not allowing yourselves to fully open up despite promising to be honest. It almost makes you want to sigh in defeat, you were still holding his wrist so you put his hand on the desk behind you as close to your body as possible.

"I control time to a certain degree, so when I heal you I just turn your body back to before it was injured," You explain "it wouldn't work on any disease your body was going to develop anyways, I can slow it down but your body will always progress to it"

"Like Alzheimer?" You nod "So when you stopped Deathstroke you...froze him in time?"

"Pretty much, yes"

"What about bullet wounds?"

"Can't do much if the bullet's still inside, I can only stop the bleeding so much"

"And what abou-"

"Jay" You cut him off with a plea.

And with the look you give him he decides to give it a shot, just for you. He roughly presses his lips to yours, to test if he'd be able to take it. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, first he refused to take off his gloves to touch you and now he's kissing you like this.

"I want to..." He whispers, his hands holding your face to make sure you won't go anywhere. "I want to try"

"We can take it slow" You offer and he nods along, letting go of you to finally take off his gloves.

First he touches your face, taking in your soft skin and you let him. You've wanted to feel his hands on you for too long, he can touch you anywhere he wants for all you care. Then he moves them down to your waist, and pulls up your black shirt until it's not tucked in your pants and he can sneak under the clothing, your breath hitches but you allow it. The second he's kissing you again he's completely disregarding what you told him about going slow. If it wasn't for him holding you, your arms on which you were resting your weight would've given out.  

"Can I?" You barely manage to get away from him to ask, and he nods quickly before kissing you again.

Your arms go around his neck, just enough to push him closer to you but at the same time trying not to overwhelm him. What did slow mean again? He realizes how touch starved he is, that it's not that he didn't want to be touched at all, he wanted to be touched by someone he knew would never hurt him. He needed to know that said touch wasn't meant to harm him or didn't have any second intentions to do so. Jason understands, right in that moment, that he wanted you back as much as wanted revenge on Batman. He's lifting you up so you sit on the desk, a hand leaving your waist just to guide your legs to wrap around him. He starts to lift your shirt up, but you stop him. You couldn't bear the feeling of someone else's hands taking off your clothes, not again. It almost felt like you could hear her voice again, telling you all about how you were such a cute thing and you were lucky her and her homicidal maniac of a partner were looking out for you from other immates-- and staff members. Worst part was you knew deep down she wasn't lying about that. You desperately don't want to go back there, not now.

"I'm sorry-"you whisper, and he recognizes that tone and that look in your face. It's the same as his own "let me..."

He only hums in agreement and gives you some space so you can take your black shirt off. Your fingers curl trying to get a hold of the chest-plate of his armor when you drag him back to kiss you. You feel his warm hands on your waist again, lowering down and keeping you in place. There was no running away now, not that you wanted to. Jason was not letting go of you tonight, his hold staying the same as his kisses go from your lips to your neck, right over your pulse point. He guides your hand to where you could take the suit off, and you learn fast working on undoing buckles and belts to rid him of the unnecessary layer of metal right now.

"I missed you" he whispers against your neck, you were blushing now.

"I missed you too" You sigh, the chest armor dropping to the floor with a loud noise that almost makes both of you flinch.

You had your eyes closed up until that moment where he stopped. You caught him staring at the tattoo on your hip. They were numbers small enough not to draw attention to them, written in a way you could've passed it off as a date in case anyone asked but its real purpose was to serve to recognize you in case you died. That was if the tracker under your skin was taken out or your face was unrecognizable. It made you feel like branded livestock, as if you were just an object. You always avoid looking at it and he should do the same. Now it was your turn to grab his chin and lead his face to look at you. Jason wasn't the only one troubled in this relationship, you had your own issues too.

"Don't" you scold, setting a clear boundary. Which he respects, he won't ask about it and if you don't want him to stare he won't.

He evens you out by taking the black long-sleeved t-shirt he wore under the suit and you don't want to stare but good God... Your eyes rush from his abs back to his eyes and you catch him smirking, you let out a giggle at the thought of him teasing you for it. He was about to do the same to you, make you look up so you wouldn't pay attention to his scars but when he noticed they were your eyes looked he knew that's not what distracted you. It felt almost normal, like you were a normal girl and a normal guy about to hook up. Of course in the back of your head you knew it wasn't the case but you allowed yourself to cling into that sense of normalcy. He's grateful that you ignore his more visible scars, that you still see him as the guy you met in Gotham so long ago. He wants to think that in your eyes at least he wasn't a failure.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, both hands cupping your face tenderly as if he wasn't holding your entire skull in them "I get it now... why you couldn't tell me, and that I treated you like shit"

"Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole" You tease with a chuckle.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips and you almost paw at his wrists when you feel like he's pulling away from you. "Will you forgive me?"

"Jay-" You murmur, seeing the tears forming in his eyes, it's the softest voice he's ever heard "I already have"

*.*

His mouth only meets yours again for a few seconds before he pushes everything off the desk, dusty papers falling everywhere and all over the floor. He's pressed up against your core when he lays you down on your back. This is were he belongs, your legs wrapped around him as he plasters kisses all over your jaw, your neck and collarbone, just anywhere he could reach. How soft lips welcome him again and again, it's like a dream come true, and your warm skin against him which he can't get enough of. His hands are steady at your waist, making sure to keep you in place, yours busy themselves tugging at the short hair on the back of his neck.

"Jay" you moan, closing your eyes. Fuck, if he wanted to have you like this he could.

"My-my ro-room's over the-" He stutters, you've barely even touched the guy and he already felt like he was melting at your touch-you were making him soft and hard all at the right places. "over there"

"You wanna take me there?" You flirt with a pout and he nods with a weak uh-huh.

Soon he's dragging you up to pick you up, a giggle escapes your lips feeling his hands on your ass. You push away the thought of how much it was turning you on to be manhandled like this.Your hands slide down to his shoulders to steady yourself as he takes you to the well hidden room connected to this office. You don't get much time to appreciate the room decor--there isn't any-- before you are laying flat on your back again, this time against a mattress. He unties your boots so you can kick them off, then your pants come off with only a bit of help from him with dropping them to the floor and he takes a step back, getting a good look at you.

"I don't have any..." he hesitates, " 'm not really sleeping around here"

"You're not?" You tease, a feet reaching for him playfully and he catches your ankle to stop you rolling his eyes in the process, his gorgeous blue eyes. "I won't catch anything from you?"

"Fuck, no" Jason scoffs, as if he didn't test himself for every disease know to man when he got out of Arkham. Besides, like he said he wasn't sleeping around, he wasn't sleeping at all--in every sense of the word.

"It's okay"

"I won't catch anything from you?" He repeats the question, and you shake your head no with a smirk "not even a kid?"

"Don't worry about that," you blush, looking away "it won't happen"

He hums in acknowledgment as his hand slides down from your ankle to your knee, parting your legs so he can settle between them again. Your heart was racing at the feeling of his hand trailing higher up your thigh, until he pushed your underwear to the side. His eyes were fixed on you, watching every reaction you had to know what you liked. What made you feel better.

"Jay-" you moaned.

"Hm?" It was almost mocking how he hid his face on your neck plating wet kisses on your skin.

"Want you"

"Want me what?" He teases, and you can't take it anymore. You grab his face with both your hands to make him look at you again before kissing him.

"Want you to fuck me" The determination in your voice had him nodding and sliding off your underwear and his own remaining clothes.

He bites back whatever sound wanted to leave his lips when he slides inside you, he's too busy watching your mouth part in a gasp and your eyes shut. He takes it slow, letting you adjust-- and getting used to the overwhelming feeling of being so close to you. He's over you, he's surrounding you like he's the only thing that exists in this world. His heartbeat slows down, looking down at the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. Jason thinks that just like this he may as well eat you alive, at least that way there will be no more lies . That if he somehow managed to swallow you whole then he could know everything about you, the way you do about him. He's only pulled back to reality when he feels your hands at his shoulders, moving faster than what he could think he grabs your wrists to pin your hands over your head. His breath hitches and his heart skips a beat when your eyes meet again, only then he starts to move.

"I love you" he lets out after a few moments, letting go of your hands, his voice is low too low.

"I love you too" You nod, noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks and softly wiping them away with your thumbs.

He brushes it off, he's not ready for this-all of this intimacy. He doesn't stop though, he just moves away to stand upright, throwing your legs over his shoulders. You moan when you feel how much deeper he could go like this. He can't help himself around you, every wall he put up to distance himself from others disappear whenever you were around. It wouldn't matter how much you lied to him, or how much you hurt him, you took his heart and it would stay with you no refunds. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm all yours, he wants to say but wouldn't bear the thought of you not saying the same so he'd keep it to himself.  

"What-what's wrong?" You ask in a whisper when his movement falters, your cheeks flushed. You are so close.

"Nothing, just keep taking me like that pretty girl" The nickname makes you go crazy, now? He used to call you that only because he knew how much it embarrassed you. Unlucky for you, he liked seeing you flustered.

" 'M close, Jay" you whine, and he lowers a hand right where you needed it, the added pressure throwing you over the edge.

The way you feel around him is enough to push him over the edge mere seconds later, coming undone with a string of whispers of your name, again and again like a prayer. His head falls on your chest as you both try to catch your breath. Him wrapping his arms around your waist, holding himself closer to you if that was even possible as you pressed kisses to the top of his head.

*.*

"Hey, Jay" You call out to him in a hoarse whisper "are you awake?"

You get no answer from his sleeping form next to you, at some point you decide to trace his figure with your fingers, as if it'd help you remember him when you leave. You start with his jaw, then to his neck and his shoulders, feeling the rough skin under your fingertips. He really ought to buy some moisturizer, you scoff to yourself. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades before working your way down his arm. Your eyes got a bit teary looking at his scars, the carved out H+J in heart, the long slashes, the burn scar over his right shoulder. He had been through so much and he was still alive and kicking, sleeping next to you. You wish you could've come for him sooner, you didn't blame him for hating Batman. Hell you even had a few run-ins of your own with him because of it. Batman's own grief be damned he was supposed to be the world's greatest detective looking for his partner , the teenager he got to join him and the kid he was meant to take care of . He wasn't supposed to replace him that easily, it made you feel like you were the only one who cared about Jason. All this suffering he went through... it could've been helped, he didn't have to endure that. Your mind wanders to what that psycho did to him, if it was even worse than what you were put through, if he begged him to finish the job, the sight of him covered in blood- his own blood, beaten and branded, his empty eyes when you first saw him and then the flash of hope when he saw you which quickly washed away when he realized that you were there too.

You have to push back the images of what was done to you too, before you feel like you're outside of your body again or that you lose your grip on reality, again. You would never admit it to him but after he left the safe house you were brought back to the headquarters and couldn't get out of bed for almost six months, nothing felt real, your own thoughts felt too slow, your body too heavy too move. A major depressive episode, that's what your superiors classified it as. You knew it wasn't losing him that triggered it, it was the added of weight you'd been caring on your shoulders for too long and the fact that now you had nothing in your life that you even liked. Normaly they would've force-fed antidepressants to whatever agent that went through what you did but you wouldn't let anyone get closer than 2 meters, freezing more than one poor medic or nurse that was sent to see you. Or when they got to you and you reversed the effects of it, just out of spite. Eventually they gave up and waited as not even threats to your sister phased you. "Kill her and see how it goes for you," you said on a rare day where you found yourself able to speak "you'll have nothing to keep me here"

"What are you doing?" You don't even register him asking. He turns to face you and he notices you crying, only then do you realize he's awake so you wipe your tears as fast as you can. It is good for nothing, he already knows you're crying.

"I'm sorry, 's not the best thing to wake up to, huh?" You chuckle trying to pass off your own wave of sadness that just hit you.

"What's wrong?" He insists, was it him that made you so upset?

"Nothing's wrong, Jason" You lie, and he can see right through it.

"No, come on... keep going" He's using that tone again, the one that has you weakening every resolve and your knees giving out just to give him whatever he asked for, that whiny and needy voice that was reserved just for you. He also takes your hand and pushes it to his chest, wanting you to take off from where you left. Instead you move your hand underneath his to hold it, fingers interlocked as you leave a soft kiss to his knuckles. The feel of your lips on his skin, his harsh and calloused skin that has only known violence, has him blushing.

"I have to leave," you state, finally breaking the bubble you two were in since he took you to his office "I'd empty this place asap if I were you"

He steals a look at the watch behind him, the hours he spent with you are still on a single digit, that's all he gets with you. You get up, looking for your clothes that had been discarded all over the room mere hours ago.

"Fine" he scoffs, sitting on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest. Acting all tough and annoyed as the wound of you leaving reopens. He knows you'll never change your ways, he should've known you were heartache from the moment he met you. Jason knew nothing had changed, he doesn't know why he was even sad about you not choosing to stay with him. "Will I ever see you again?"

There's a beat of silence, you have your back turned to him so he can't see what kind of face you're making but he can see how you're pulling your pants up your ass. "I hope so, that was..." you puff and fan yourself with a hand.

He grabs your wrist when you get closer to the bed looking for your shoes, a sigh of your name has your gaze softening as you look back at him. Your lips pull up in a smile, caressing his face and sitting on his lap over the sheets."Bludhaven, find me there when you're done with whatever this is"

He nods, a hand of his going to your nape. He's trying to make you stay a little longer, even if it's just for a few moments and you know it so you give his scared cheek a sweet kiss. Find me when you're done with whatever this is, he can do that. He can wait a few more weeks for you.

"Where-" he starts, but you're no longer there. He felt your weight on him just a moment ago and now you were gone, he didn't even see your eyes light up before you made your way out of the place. You were probably on your way back, lying through your teeth about what you've been up to. And to that he sighs, getting up to get dressed and thinks "I've got to get my shit together, haven't worked this much for nothing"

A/N: not to copy paste all of my author's notes but I referenced like 3 songs so if you notice lmk :D

[interludered]

Beginning of The End

Alpha!Vampire Satoru x Alpha!Vampire Suguru

t/w minor character death, gore, descriptions of violence, arranged marriage, murder

word count: 1.9k

a/n an rp reply from an arranged marriage au of stsg. please excuse any mistakes, this is sorta of a heavy read.

The scent that permeates through the air would often make someone sick to their stomach, threatening violent fits of nausea and often begging for forgiveness in the form of vomit making its way past teeth, tongue, and lips. The aroma of burning flesh and hair. The human body has an undeniable scent, one so specific that anyone could pick it from that of another mammal. 

The lack of remorse in Suguru’s face as he wraps the silver chain around his father's neck and tugs is nothing short of alarming. The way the silver burns deeply into his palms poses no deference from the act, only determination to finish the job. 

The Totalitarian Prince was despotic in nature. Raised to be apposite, eliminating those who disturbed the desire. Family was nothing when it came to power, and besides, this is what his Father would have wanted. He’s sure that his seat in Hell is warm and inviting when he sits on it.

He isn’t sure exactly where it started, the power-crazed methodology he began to pursue, perhaps it was born into the bloodline. A destiny for those before him, each one failing. Maybe it was the private tutor lessons that taught him about royalty and kingdoms, or perhaps the declarations of war that landed on his Father’s throne throughout the years, all left for an impressionable Suguru to find. Maybe it was the dueling and consistent burns left by teachers, silver scorching his skin with each slice. The threats of vampire hunters are consistent in their assassination attempts. Maybe it was the night of meaningless sex just for him to have a blade go through his stomach in the middle of the night. Maybe, the burden of the Kingdom; of untrustworthy suitors and courting; of strict rules implemented by his Father; of harsh conditioning to claiming to prepare him; of sitting on the throne next to his Father his whole life; perhaps watching his mother die, forced to live out her human life and leaving him behind. It would also be feasible to assume the bittersweet taste of freedom that power guaranteed him. 

Conceivably, he finds himself walking quietly from one side of the castle to the other. The silver chain he holds, wrapped in thick wefts of silk, lays heavily in his hand as he begins. He knows his Father is sleeping, and hears his snores that echo loudly down the hall despite the double doors that lock him away. He makes no attempt to be quiet, the squeal the doors release echoes loudly down the hall into his own corridors to haunt him. A scar is required for untouchability. He remains deadpanned as he wraps the silver around his bare hands, the immediate sear of his skin creating a scent he had grown accustomed to. He kicks the door behind him shut.

It was barely a few seconds before he eagerly wrapped the chain around his neck, crossed neatly at the nape. His foot bore its weight between the shoulder blades of the struggling form beneath him. The screams deafen the walls, only for them to come to a halt as he jerks upwards, chain slipping to knot around the pieces of the spine that protrude from the decapitated figure below him. Cerise, a viscous liquid paints his skin as arteries protest their inevitable exposure. He watches it seep and glue itself to the carpet, hardwood, and cement surrounding him. Suguru wonders how long it will take for the maids to wash out stains, or if burning them would be a better solution. 

The Getou Prince takes his foot off the back of the man, wrapping the dripping chain back inside its silken case—his own hands holding the evidence and branded wounds, laid deep into his palms where he wrapped the weapon around. 

He flexed his hands to regain mobility before pursuing the door, opening it to find a terrified maid threatening to knock on hollow doors. She freezes with her hand in mid-air, chest level with the towering vampire. Getou stares blankly at her for a moment before bringing her hand to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles, charing her skin with blood that isn’t his. Her scent was sickly sweet, the vulnerability of an Omega human, it nulled all senses he had as he leaned into her ear to whisper an eulogy of “Thank you,” before pressing fevered kisses onto her jaw and onto her jugular and sinking large canines into it. Her screams turned into wet gargling, falling silent as he drained her of all she had to offer. Her body hit the ground with a THUMP, what little was left emanated from her throat. He steps over the body of the young girl, letting the trickle of blood run along his sharp jaw to slip down his own throat. A mocking form of sinister ministry. His own ichor leaks where her nails broke the skin, but they heal within minutes. 

By the time he made it to his own courter, locking himself behind heavy wooden doors, weeping and screams became his lullaby as he drifted to sleep.

✧

Suguru Getou held the record for most kills within the Kingdom during his first 3 days of ruling. He also held the title of “Most Wanted” by more than one clan of vampire killers. In his opinion, he should get a trophy. It was an honor to hold the title, often viewing them as pesky gnats he shooed away with his hand. Though in his first few days of ruling, he found letters his Father kept from him, between him and a neighboring rule. Gojo read proudly at the top of the page, larger than any of the other words. His eyes widen as he looks over the page. From what he remembered, their families were rivals at best. So imagine his surprise when he receives an invitation, as well as a marriage proposal. The Gojo clan was one—if not the strongest around, their territory abundant. Getou decided he had a few weeks of homework which he promptly started on.

Within the next few weeks, he informed the King of the Gojo Clan that his father had tragically been assassinated by one of the vampire killer groups. He also informed them the rising number of deaths in his Kingdom were groups associated with the killers and he was doing so to seek revenge in the name of the late King. He expressed his own mourning and great appreciation that he sees Suguru as a fit for his son. Quickly dismissing that Alpha, although looked down upon, can be mated together and he could ensure that his son was in great hands and the opportunity was something he was forever in debt to. It also helped that Suguru was willing to end the line of Getou’s in order to take the Gojo name. For now, at least. 

Which brings him to now, carefully seated in a dark oak chair, opposing the Gojo King, swooning him easily with words he spoke so delicately into the air. His rich indigo hair was tied half-up with pieces falling to frame his face. The blood-red of his clothes complimented his fair complexion and radiated amber eyes. He had been there for around an hour before hushed whispers of the prince began to circulate. Until then, he continued his chatter. 

“Why, my Lord, you have such a beautiful Kingdom. I hope in my own ruling I become as benevolent as you. Though, you as my guide I am sure to get there in no time.”

“Yes, your Majesty, I had an exquisite ride over. They truly are well-behaved, your imprint must’ve left them in good condition. You must pick your men with such a well-crafted hand.”

“Indeed, Sire, my father's death was tragic. The silver that wretched Killer used burned deep into my palms, cauterized them, and left me with scars. I am sure they will go away with time. Unfortunately, I was just too late. My own servants and maids were terrified. I simply cannot blame them.”

His last reply was accompanied by a furrowed brow and a shake of his head, faux concern etched into his features as he sighed, finally looking back up. As he does, his eyes catch on the bright-haired male who enters the room, his own gaze fixed upon him with deadly aim. Even as the King continues his jabber, Suguru can’t help the small smirk that appears on his face. He is hiding it with the glass he brings to his lips. When the King does recognize that his son appeared, he boasts proudly. The act of defiance he has to his father ignites something within Suguru. 

‘Oh,’ he thinks, setting his glass back on the table, relaxing further into his seat and crossing his legs. ‘This one has some bite.’

When Satoru first approaches him, Suguru makes no effort to indulge him. His descent was aggressive in nature, but Suguru has always enjoyed the rush of a challenge. After Satoru’s first words to him, he continues to ignore the presence he attempts to hold. Getou found it tedious and childish if anything, and the last thing he wanted was to make a scene in front of the one that actually mattered in this deal. 

After a few beats of silence, and twirling his ankle from the leg that rests on the other, he finally looks at him. Though far away, his looks were enthralling, he can’t deny that Satoru is considerably more handsome as he stalks closer. He holds some type of gravity that captivates even the strongest of minds with crystal-clear oceanic eyes and a piercing gaze. His own warmth is a direct contrast to the Alpha that looms over him. Satoru is alluring in the sense of beauty and mystery, a perfectly kept secret that not even the best could be tortured out of telling. 

The only problem is his mouth.

“Well, I would agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.” His voice is deepened slightly at the presence of the other Alpha, to be expected. Though his words come out lazily, if not amused by the other’s actions. If anything, Suguru sinks further into the chair, filling it out in his own defiance. “There are 24 other chairs at this table, surely you would be able to sit in one of those just as properly as this one. If you want to sit positioned at the head of the table…well, that can be arranged with a proper show of manners.” 

His own words are picked out with his own careful deciphering, followed by the raise of an eyebrow. To rub salt in the wound he hopes to filet Satoru with, Suguru adds: “Besides, I’m rather comfortable.” He displays with a spread of his legs, and a release of his scent. 

An initial smokey caramel fragrance makes its way through the air, seeping out of his skin. Part of it was to mark the chair, but the biggest part was to gauge Satoru’s reaction. Although humanoid in form, alpha’s animalistic nature could not be denied. It was buried underneath layers of concrete for some, only to rip apart and explode suppressed anger, and for others, they had learned to embrace it, understand it, and value both its pros and cons. As his scent fades, it leaves behind the smell of burning wood and something faintly herbal. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see a few Omega’s wipe their heads around to look at the source.

[bikefuckersoftheworldunite]

Qatar MotoGP ends amid controversy

[article published right after Qatar 2004; autotranslated from italian]

There's a blue motorbike leaning against the guard rail, over there, at the penultimate corner. It's a Yamaha, it's full of dust and it's not where it should be, while the desert sun is already setting and Sete Gibernau is flying happily across the finish line of the first Qatar GP. There's a blond boy in the mobile clinic. He's the rider of that grazed motorbike and he's also where he shouldn't be. His left little finger hurts like hell, but it's not that much, even if "when I saw the glove full of blood I was scared". No, the problem is the soul, which is also on fire but much more difficult to cure. It stings because anyone could have won but not Sete Gibernau, and not like this, 25-0 with a built-in mockery and the consequent reopening of a World Championship that seemed already sealed.

Valentino Rossi is there and he is out, very out. From the race and also a little from himself. "They stole it from me, Gibernau's is not a victory" he says in front of TV, notebooks and Arab fans with cameras and 20-kilo Rolexes. Furious and disappointed, the Doctor doesn't speak, he growls: "They can't win in a normal way, so they're holding on to something: Gibernau is the instigator of the operation with his chief mechanic Juan Martinez, someone who became famous thanks to me (he was his suspension technician, editor's note). They snitched like children. I was hoping to have an excuse to not talk to Gibernau anymore. Now I have one".

Later he will say it's a joke, in the meantime he said it. And, while waiting to see if Sete and Vale will really no longer dance together in the discos of Ibiza, we wonder what has taken away the joy of the laughing champion to the point of making him resemble a football president who senses conspiracies and hisses furiously: «This is a dirty trick».

The point, of course, is not the fall that occurred on the 6th lap after a comeback that was a demonstration of pure class: «I was already fourth but I relaxed for a moment, I hit the kerb and I fell». Ugly to see: the Phenomenon crawls to get off the track, then walks in the gravel with his head in his hands. «I made a mistake, yes, but it wouldn't have happened if I had started in front». And here we come to the point, the painful one.

Yes, because Rossi didn't start 8th, as per official tests, but 23rd. Blame it on a penalty following a complaint signed by Hrc, his former team, which reported his maneuver the night before, strictly according to the rules (article 3.3.1.2, "unsporting action"), terrible: his mechanics cleaned and rubberized the dirty and slippery asphalt of his starting position with a scooter. The move did not escape Gibernau or the other teams, who in the morning decided on the legal move, signed by Carlo Fiorani, Honda team manager and old friend of Vale, and supported by the Honda Gresini team (of Gibernau) and Ducati. Among the witnesses, also Martinez, the one who broke through thanks to the Doctor.

Result: 6 seconds more than Rossi on the qualifying time, enough to relegate him to last place. But for the punished "the penalty is a farce", and not only because "the rules are so clear that they could have put me up against a pole and whipped me..."

The issue, according to Rossi, is that basically «everyone usually goes to clean the box when the circuit is dirty. It also happened in Rio and on Friday when I saw Biaggi's mechanics cleaning his I thought: great idea». Yamaha, in truth, responded with a complaint against Biaggi, who was also penalised and forced to start behind Vale. In any case, the Doctor has another explanation: «I didn't know anything about it and when I saw the box I thought someone had put paint on it to boycott us. Instead my mechanics explained to me that they had marked the box so that I could go through it during the warm up and clean it. A carelessness, but it's an old trick they did with Doohan...». This time it didn't work and the complainants, who were just waiting for it, were relentless in punishing a naivety that a high-level team shouldn't commit.

So, the bitter moral of one of the worst “Rossian” weekends ever is that motorcycling, like the seasons, “is no longer what it used to be and there are no longer riders with balls. Now I will try to take back what they stole from me.” The boy says it with an anger that doesn’t seem like him. But on certain days, when night falls and only your own and other people’s mistakes remain, and then revenge and regrets, there is nothing to laugh about. Not even if you are Valentino Rossi.

[lorebeth]

When you aren't looking

Disclaimer: Hello! This is my first ever piece on this website so I hope it reaches the right audience! I'm still a little new to this so if you have any tips for how to get better accustomed to the app I'd be happy to learn!

I've recently had a hyperfixation on Dan Heng so hopefully this expresses my love for him psfjdhfjsj HELP THERE'S A FEW SPELLING MISTAKES

TW: Might be a little sad, Dan Heng ignores reader due to his feelings, Dan Heng hopelessly in love with you and terrified of his feelings towards you. Readers birthday, mwah!

Dan Heng couldn't comprehend it. His feelings for you have skyrocketed and he can't help but get a feeling at the bottom of his stomach whenever he sees you.

He doesn't like what you've done to him these past few months since you first joined him and the others. He couldn't find it in his heart to trust you after the effect you had on him so drastically but he also couldn't help not let you into his heart through your caring actions towards the others. How you communicate with March 7th, it makes his heart flutter and the way you make coffee for Himeko before her waking up.

He wonderered what you haven't done to make everyone's life just that inch more easier. Even Pom Pom adored you in their own little way.

What really hit the nail on the coffin for Dan Heng was when you found him awake in the dead of night when even Welt himself was asleep. You carefully approached him with a careful hand on his shoulder, making him shiver whenever he remembers the event.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea, perhaps?" he knew you could see the bags under his eyes and the messy nest ontop of his head, yet all you did was offer him a hot beverage. You could have told him to go to sleep but he knew you knew that would have done nothing. And for that, he slowly started opening up to you. From a distance that is.

You had in fact won him over but his crippling fear of rejection stopped him. He couldn't face you again after he came to the conclusion he doesn't feel the same way he does with you with Himeko or March for example. How would you react if you saw him smile ever so gently whenever you help someone or whenever you explain to March why Welt has his phone brightness too high and can't change it due to his lack of expertise in mobile phones, causing March to giggle and try take Welt's phone.

So, he began to ignore you. And it did hurt him to see March come in his room without you because he simply couldn't see you. You had caught on quite quickly after the 3rd or 4th time he kept making excuses to not being able to spend time with you.

As time passed, your birthday was finally here and of course you felt horrible because this amazing boy was ignoring you, and of course you told March who felt the need to scold him personally and escort, as she frased it the, "Sorry Looking Emo Potato Salad" to the meeting held in place for your birthday. He of course had said previously that he was busy sorting out the files of the new monsters you had stumbled across and it would take the whole day. You felt your eyes tear up when he came in startled and with a face full of shame and desire to run away from the situation.

"March.. It's okay, he said he was busy. Honestly, Dan Heng it's okay, go do what you have to do." it angered you that the one you most wanted to spend your birthday with couldn't be bothered but your interest rised when he pulled out a little dark green envelope and a blue bag with a Happy Birthday plastered on it. It looked like his handwriting so perhaps it almost made up for him ignoring you all this time. Almost.

"Oh..? Thank you Dan Heng! I know you've been really busy these few weeks. So I appreciate it!" you were still upset but alot less now that you've seen the boy and you had a beautifully wrapped gift inside from him, there was shredded navy blue tissue paper covering the top.

"Happy Birthday Y/N. I'm sorry I haven't seen you much. I have to go now. If you don't like it or it isn't right, come to my room later tonight. I want you to open the envelope and my present last, please."

With that, the boy was off again. And instead of the feeling of sadness and hurt wash over you, you felt quite happy and curious for what he could have gotten you.

"Well that was weird.. Oh Y/N, Y/N!! Look at my gift!" you went on and started opening the rest of your presents, almost forgetting about the raven haired boy and his mysterious envelope and present.

After the little party, you found yourself ecstatic. You were going to have a sleepover with March after you got dressed and changed your out of your beautiful birthday outfit. Himeko wouldn't stop complimenting you and your colour combinations. It made you feel special.

Just as you were about to leave, from the corner of your eye, you see the little bag. You had put the envelope inside and from there you took it upstairs, having a quick chat with Welt and then changing.

You picked it up and saw a rectangular box, as you carefully tear off the paper, you see a stunning pair of earrings, they matched your everyday work outfit and still stood out, in the light shining your favourite shade of (F/C). You felt so full and empty at the same time, these must have cost a fortune but they were so fricking pretty. They made you laugh softly.

You had only discovered your feelings for him a week before he started disappearing on you. You made him that hot beverage and took him to his room, helping him put the last of his data he had collected and took his mug when he was finished. That moment was so domestic and made you strangely happy. You couldn't see yourself doing that for anyone other than March and you loved her like a sister.

The envelope caught your attention, as you begin to open it you hear a knock at your door, "Y/N! Are you coming?" March did have a habit of being impatient.

"Yes! One second, I'll be right there March." as she walked away, you opened the envelope, noticing the little pattern engraved onto the paper inside and on the envelope itself. It had a scent to it, as if Dan Heng himself hugged the letter and it caught his perfume.

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. I've grown to like you more than a friend would, and it hurts me every time I ignore you and you hurt. I've been afraid of rejection almost my entire life and I could not stand to lose another person I have grown to love. If you do not feel the same way, please ignore this letter. I just felt the need to explain myself because you deserve it. I've been selfish.

Yours, Dan Heng.

You've never sped walked to his room faster.

[starrz-n-waffl3-fries]

Official introduction post 🙂‍↕️

EDIT: I got tired of scrolling past this pinned post so I put a cut on it- woh :3c

Anyway!!! That’s me!!! :3

My real name is Maxfield or Max, but you can call me Starrz!!! Considering it’s my name online :D

I am a digital artist who is very flexible in their craft, I see art very structurally so I don’t really have a set art style, but rather multiple art styles depending on what media I am drawing for! <3

examples of this include;

YDB(You Deserve Better) art style

C+B(Cuts And Bruises) art style

SJ(Soweli Jan) art style

And my signature doodle art style I use for everything!! :3

Fandoms I’m apart of!!!

-Btd(boyfriend to death)

-ykmet(you kill me every time)

-Undertale

-Deltarune

Circling back to the drawing of me with all of the symbols and flags that I identify with at the start of the post; let me tell you about those!!! :0

Country flags

America— I live in America, self-explanatory

Michigan— I was born and raised in Michigan, a Midwestern state in America

Germany— most of my roots are from Germany, making me German American

Disability flags

ASD(Autism Spectrum Disorder)— I was officially diagnosed at seven years old with Asperger’s syndrome; an outdated term for high functioning autism. This is a learning disability, however people with this disability(myself included) are very capable of wonderful things and we are all very intelligent in our own right<3

ADHD(attention deficit hyperactivity disorder)— I’m not sure when I was officially diagnosed with this, however I was diagnosed with this later in my life(I think). This one overlaps with autism a lot as it is also a learning disability, however it tackles more so the inability to focus on tasks more so- but much like autism, ADHD is also a spectrum! So everyone experiences it differently and manages it differently. For myself; I like to keep checklists and stuff!!! :3

Disability pride flag— this one is a general term for anyone who has a disability. I already explained two that I have, but I also additionally have two more regarding mobility. I walked on my tip-toes ever since I learned how to walk and this hindered how long I can walk on my feet without it hurting like a bitch(even after surgery)- another thing that this caused was huge back problems that I have yet to tackle, so that’s fun! I don’t use any mobility aids as I am scared to ask for them, but I do believe I would benefit from them some days when I have to walk for extended periods of time.

Mental health related disorders

C-PTSD(complex post traumatic stress disorder)— much like regular PTSD, this is something that you get from traumatic memories from your childhood. Emphasis on memories, because regular PTSD is only from one traumatic memory. As for people like me, I have several things floating around my head that make it so that even today I am deeply affected by what has happened to me. Make no mistake, however; this disorder is not and never will be an excuse for any actions performed by a person with this disability. I am responsible for my own actions, and this disability does not define me. Although it very much affects me every day, it is not my only personality trait, nor is it a way to excuse any actions of mine :3

Depression and Anxiety— these are pretty well researched Disorders that I don’t feel comfortable discussing too deeply, as they are very difficult to manage for me and they are kind of distressing topics for me, however I fully encourage you to do your own research! Stay safe!!!<3

LGBTQIA+ Labels

Transgender(ftm)— I was born biologically female, however when I started puberty I quickly realized I did not like the body I was growing into, and somewhere in 2021 or 2022 I figured it out I was a trans man, and so far I haven’t had any identity crisis about my gender, so I think it’s a permanent label of mine! Which is very nice<3

Panromantic— much like pansexual, this means you experience attraction to anyone no matter their gender! Many people with this have gender blindness, I don’t know what that means, so you should probably look that up on your own time as well! :3 but the reason why I say panromantic instead of pansexual, is because I do not experience sexual attraction to people! Which we will get into in a minute🙂‍↕️

Asexual— little to no sexual attraction, this does not inherently mean you have a low libido, however- you can have a high libido and still be asexual, so do not confuse those!!! me personally, I am sex neutral and asexual! So I’m not inherently bothered by the topic, just make sure not to get me involved or I will sob in self defense! :33

Other labels

Age regression pride flag— so age regression is basically a coping mechanism for people who want to experience their childhood again, for some people that can look like re-experiencing childhood joys, or reverting back to a child like state to make up for the fact that they feel like their childhood was lackluster or they grew up too fast! Me core :3

Therian/otherkin symbol— people who are spiritually connected to animals!! For me, my therio-type is a red fox!! So I feel naturally connected to them- this does not mean that I believe I am a fox, nor does it mean I am a zoo- there is a huge difference, and I am tired of people thinking they overlap. They do not. I am aware that I am a human, however I believe that I am spiritually connected to foxes<3

Cool people in my circle that you should follow!!<3

@0lizard-shark0 -my lovely partner<3

@watermelonolemretaw -my other awesome significant other depending on how this polyamory thing goes!<3

@burntmarshmallowqueen -their sibling that is helping write ydb with both of us and has a very nice and detailed art style >:0c

@blueleon-blog -my awesome older brother figure and my ride or die🙂‍↕️

@finnsworldz -bestie with the coolest art I’ve ever fucking seen!!! >:3

@gourd-n-cord a really cool friend of mine that I go to school with!! >:33

@m0nst3r-clawz A guy- that is also blood related to me- you can follow him if you want, his oc is pretty cool :3c

I hope that my page brings some whimsy to your day or whatever٩( 'ω' )و🎉‼️✨

[yurisorcerer]

I thought about leaving this as a reblog on another post but I am making it its own because I don't want to be That Person. All the context you need is that one of those posts about how You Need To Watch Old Anime is going around again.

In of itself this is a fine sentiment. I could probably stand to watch more older anime myself, given that my soft cutoff is around the year 2000 or so. Recently, as in like, last October or so, I tried to remedy this by watching the original Mobile Suit Gundam. Some of the mistakes I made in doing so were entirely my own fault (for one thing I was liveblogging it, which is a great way to quadruple the amount of time it takes you to get through a single episode), but also, I kind of put it on permanent hold because people kept trying to nudge me into thinking about the show in one way or another. This sort of annoyed me, and it's again my own fault for not really more directly expressing that annoyance, but you can see why that would be bothersome.

With older work, there is usually already some kind of consensus, and people *will* try to push you toward that consensus opinion, whatever it is. I don't know why, but there is a sort of person who treats having seen (or read, or whatever) the classics as an excuse to dictate how people are allowed to feel about them. Within this mindset, engaging with art becomes not about having any kind of personal experience, but about reaching some kind of shining and beautiful Correct Opinion, which you then try to get as many other people to agree with as possible, their own experience be damned.

To return to the 0079 example, one of the places I (apparently!) deviated somewhat from Gundam fan orthodoxy was in finding the child-slapping kind of uncomfortable. I know there *are* other Gundam fans who think this is nasty but for the most part the ones who felt the need to jump in my Twitter replies were people who were eager to explain to me at length why it served the story. Even though it serving the story or not was not in contention, I was just expressing discomfort since I used to get hit as a kid. I explained as much in the livewatch thread in question, but people either ignored it or didn't care.

This isn't some condemnation of Gundam fans in particular, for the record. It's just A Thing People Do sometimes, mostly with older work, and I find it really exasperating. So when I come across a post about how you need to watch more anime from the 80s or listen to more music from the 60s or whatever, it just hits a sour note for me, no one is allowed to have preferences with regard to genre or time period or anything else, you're just supposed to Watch The Classics And Appreciate Them Properly, Damn It.

The irony of course is that everything builds on everything else, so it's very easy to just keep doing this forever. How many people who are constantly beating the drum about Watching More 70s Anime have ever looked into the western sci-fi that some of those draw on, or any of the proto-anime artforms like paper theater that influenced the medium? Certainly, not zero, but not all of them, either. I wouldn't be surprised if it's not even most.

I don't have any kind of grand point to this post, if I'm honest I'm mostly just venting. It's exasperating to see art treated like some kind of homework, or like eating your vegetables, something you Have to do if you want to grow up big and strong (which in this analogy I suppose is getting to have opinions of your own, albeit only on later work?). I think there's a lot of value in challenging yourself and stepping outside of your comfort zone with what you try to appreciate, but there's a difference between that and treating the entire history of every medium you're interested in like a school curriculum, isn't there? Am I just way off? Is this some weirdo ADHD thing where I just don't understand how other people see the world? (This is without even getting into the *kinds* of media that people tend to care about in different spaces. Last year made it pretty clear that most people on this site barely have even a passing familiarity with hip-hop, for example.)

I don't know, I'm sure someone will tell me in the replies if I'm just being a weirdo here.

[seobnity]

⚉ characters: keeho x fem!reader

⤷(with rest of P1Harmony)

⚉ wc: 3,1k

⚉ genre: slice of life, angst, comfort, found family(?), family drama

⚉ theme: stepbrother!keeho, stepsister!reader

⚉ warnings: discussion of grief and loss (death of a parent), family abandonment themes, mention of nursing home and mobility problems

⚉ a/n: welcome or welcome back! This one was little tough to write but still very fun. I also need to say thank you to my friend who helped me with this story because I had some struggles. And also thank you so much for reading, leaving a heart or even reblogging - it means a lot to me! If you see any mistakes, please feel free to kindly correct me ♡

"So... what did he say?" Your gaze remained fixed on the phone your step brother now held in his hand, having just picked it up from the table when a notification appeared.

Keeho didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he read the message from his father—a response you both had been anticipating, though you already knew exactly what it would say. Keeho's silence only confirmed your suspicions.

"I can’t come, right?" You lowered your eyes to your cup of coffee, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the emotions you were struggling to suppress.

"It’s not... that." At last, Keeho spoke, though his voice lacked conviction.

"No?" You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "Then what is it? What’s the reason I can’t come with you?" Before Keeho could answer, you cut him off. "Let me guess," you said, pausing for effect, your tone edging on bitter. "The place where you’re supposed to meet isn’t ‘appropriate’ for someone like me. Am I right?"

"Y/N," 

"Keeho, don’t." You shook your head, a small sigh escaping your lips. You were so tired of his father’s behavior, always acting like you were never truly part of the family. "I’m just... It makes me sad, you know? It’s like I never mattered to him. Which doesn’t make any sense after everything he has done for me and my mom." You paused, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.

This whole... situation that began after your mom passed away left you angry, sad, and confused. You felt many emotions at once—overwhelmed, like a battle raging within you, where every feeling fought for dominance. It always ended with you in tears, wondering how things had spiraled to this point.

"I think it’s just funny how Mom always said he treated me like his own daughter. But now? He tells me we’ll practically be complete strangers after she’s gone. I mean, he has a point, but c'mon? How can you say that to someone you basically raised?" Your frustration spilled over as your voice broke slightly. "He was my father figure, my dad, for over a decade. And now? Now he’s acting like all those years never even happened. Like he's completely fine with calling me a stranger. It hurts. It seriously hurts," you looked up, trying to hold in your tears. You promised yourself not to cry about this again, yet, it always ends up like this.

Keeho watched you sadly, but more importantly, he listened. He didn’t excuse his father like others did with sentences such as, “Not everyone can handle that. You’re lucky he took care of you for this long,” or, “Oh, he’s still a young man. He needs to go out and find someone.” Comments like these only made you feel like a burden. But Keeho was the only one who truly understood your point of view, and for that, you were always grateful.

Once you calmed down a bit, you continued your rant. All those bottled-up emotions came rushing out in waves. Knowing yourself, you’d probably feel bad later for making Keeho sit through all of this—but that was a problem for future you.

"And let’s not forget that he found some chick not even two months after Mom died and married her five months into the relationship." You shook your head in disbelief.

Even though the words had come from your own mouth, you still couldn’t believe them. He and your mom had been in a happy marriage—everyone saw that. It was obvious, even to strangers. People could see how healthy their relationship was; it was almost sickening how sweet they were to each other. They had known each other since childhood, so their bond wasn’t just romantic—it was also built on a strong friendship. They always had each other’s backs, always went the extra mile for one another. And yet, with your mom’s death, all of that just... disappeared?

That didn’t sit right with you. And you had a theory about why that could have happened—a theory that, sadly, felt too accurate. You knew Keeho thought the same thing as you, though neither of you wanted to say it out loud because it wouldn’t change a thing.

You hunched over the table once again and took a sip of your coffee, which had already gone cold. Keeho, on the other hand, didn’t have to deal with this problem; his coffee was long gone—a complete contrast to you as a slow drinker, him being a quick one.

"Look, Y/N, I promise that as soon as I save enough money to buy a proper house, I’ll take you out of this nursing home." Finally, it was Keeho’s turn to speak. "I know you don’t deserve this. I know you don’t deserve to live... here." He eyed the room you were both in, and you did the same, even though you were here 24/7 and knew the room like the back of your hand.

Plain white walls with one small window overlooking empty fields and plain white furniture (two chairs were actually gray) that you had to buy yourself because this nursing home didn’t provide furniture for the rooms. And that was completely fine; you could at least make it to your liking. But buying furniture, even for one room, could get pretty expensive. You didn’t have money to throw around, especially when your stepdad—or ex-step dad—didn’t help with anything. He was the one who made you find a nursing home for yourself, in the first place.

To be honest, you were forced to find one because he casually told you that you had four months to get out of the house because he couldn’t take care of you anymore. Which you knew was total bullshit, but everyone around him bought it and actually praised him for doing it for so long. They never asked you about your opinion or how you felt. Only Keeho did.

"You get used to it," you shrugged. "I plan to put up some posters on the walls. I don’t know how I'll do it yet, but I’ll figure something out," you added, still eyeing the somehow depressing white walls.

"That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t deserve to live like this. To live here, in the middle of nowhere," Keeho insisted. "Have you ever been outside since you got here? No, right? Because there’s nowhere to go, and all around you are just old people you can’t have a proper conversation with." He looked you in the eyes, and the two of you held the gaze for a moment before you turned your attention back to your coffee, gripping the cup tightly.

"You know what?" Keeho said, pulling out his phone, which he had pocketed after receiving his father’s text earlier. "I won’t go. I know he’ll actually be happier being alone with his chick rather than having me around," he muttered while typing. "And... done." He set his phone down after a moment, having apparently responded to a few other messages as well.

"Are you sure about this?" You raised your eyebrows, not entirely convinced he was making the right decision. "I mean... I don’t want to hold you back from spending time with your dad," you admitted honestly.

Yes, Keeho and his dad didn’t have the best relationship, but he was still Keeho’s father, after all. You also knew Keeho rarely visited him unless it was something important—which it never was. His dad only invited him over for food or to "hang out" to get credit and admiration from others, pretending to care about his son when it suited him.

Keeho gave you a look of disbelief, as if wondering how you could even say such a thing. "I’d much rather be here with you, my little sister, than with my dad."

You searched his face, trying to see if he was lying, but his sincerity shone through, and his words warmed your heart. "You meant stepsister," you corrected him, even though you knew this term, after your mom's death, wasn’t also accurate anymore.

"Nope, I meant sister," he said firmly. "My dad may see you as a stranger now, but to me, you’ll always be my little sister."

Thanks to his sincerity, a small smile tugged at your lips. "Can you stop calling me little? I’m twenty-one already," you teased, shifting the topic slightly to avoid getting emotional again.

"But you’re still younger than me, lil’ sis," he said with a sweet, teasing smile.

To be honest? You weren’t complaining. That teasing was exactly what you needed—a distraction from all the heavy emotions swirling in your mind.

Suddenly, Keeho’s phone buzzed again with another notification. This time, you paid it no attention, focusing instead on your coffee, which was growing even colder in your hands. It was probably his dad pretending to be disappointed that Keeho wasn’t coming over, but honestly? You didn’t care.

"Do you want to stay overnight at my flat?" Keeho asked, catching you completely off guard.

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Do you want to stay overnight at my flat? It shouldn’t be a problem if I take you out, right?" A playful smile appeared on his lips.

"Well, no," you said, shaking your head. "It’s a little sudden, but I just need to tell the caregivers here that I’ll be leaving and coming back tomorrow. That’s all," you explained.

"Perfect." He smacked the table with his hand, signaling it was time to go. "Just grab a jacket and whatever else you need. You still have everything at my place from the last sleepover forever ago," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"Could you please put the cups in the sink?" you asked. Keeho nodded, stood up, grabbed both cups, and placed them in the sink as you requested.

The kitchen was part of your room, so it only took him a few steps to complete the task. While Keeho waited, you released the brakes on your wheelchair and moved towards the drawers where you kept your belongings. You pulled out a light jacket (just in case it got chilly outside) and your backpack, which held your essentials. You also grabbed your phone and charger—items you never left behind.

"Ready?" Keeho asked, taking your backpack and jacket for you to keep your hands free.

"Yes." You nodded with a small smile, already feeling happy about leaving this place, even if it was just for a night. The two of you exited your room, you locked the door, and headed towards the elevator. Keeho pressed the button, and you waited.

"Which floor are the caregivers on?" he asked as the elevator doors closed once you were inside.

"The first one," you replied, and he pressed the button. "You can wait in your car while I talk to them, okay? It won’t take long, but they’ll probably have some questions," you added with a small chuckle.

"Okay, if you say so."

When the elevator dinged, signaling it had reached the first floor, you wheeled yourself out while Keeho continued to the ground floor. You made your way to the caregivers’ office, hoping someone would be there. Fortunately, luck was on your side—it was one of your favorite caregivers.

You explained your plans to her, and she was genuinely thrilled to hear about them. Her excitement warmed your heart. She asked a few questions, mostly out of curiosity about where you were going and who you’d be with, since you rarely left your room. In fact, you never left. There was simply nothing to do, either in the nursing home or outside, so you didn’t see the point in going out.

Once that was done, you made your way back to the elevator, went to the ground floor, and found Keeho waiting for you, leaning casually against his car.

"How does it feel to be outside?" Keeho asked smugly, grinning as he opened the passenger door for you.

"Boring," you shrugged as you moved from your wheelchair into the car seat. You were never much of an outdoors person anyway.

"Oh, come on. Can you try being a little positive?" he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation before closing the door.

He walked to the trunk, loaded your wheelchair inside, and finally settled into the driver’s seat. Keeho started the car and pulled away from the nursing home. As the building vanished behind you, you felt a huge sense of relief — it felt like something heavy had finally been lifted from your chest, even if it was just for a few hours. It was interesting how much lighter and happier you already felt, knowing you wouldn’t be there for at least a little while.

The ride to Keeho’s flat took about an hour. Yeah, you could say it’s not that far; you could travel that by yourself, but it takes an hour by car. If you wanted to take the bus, it would take at least two hours, and from the nursing home, there’s only one bus that runs twice a day. You didn’t want to stress about that, nor were you exactly thrilled about traveling for that long, both there and back. Plus, the bus tickets weren’t exactly cheap either.

During the drive, the two of you talked about random topics to pass the time and even had a mini singing session to the songs playing on the radio.

When you arrived at the apartment complex where Keeho lived, he unloaded your wheelchair from the trunk while you unfastened your seatbelt and opened the door. Once you were back in your wheelchair, Keeho grabbed your backpack and jacket from the car, locked it, and the two of you headed inside the building.

When you reached the door to his flat, Keeho unlocked it and let you in first. You were immediately hit by the familiar smell of apple and cinnamon — Keeho’s favorite candle scent. 

To avoid being in Keeho’s way, you moved into the living room, where a big surprise awaited you. At first, it gave you a bit of a heart attack, but you quickly realized it was just Keeho’s dumb friends, who had gradually become your friends too, and you cherished them dearly.

"Y/N!" five boys shouted in cheerful unison the moment they saw you. All of them rushed over to greet you, each giving you a warm hug.

Well, except for Theo, who was also very excited to see you after a long time, but he was smart enough to wait for his turn to hug you, so he wouldn’t get squished by his friends while they were trying to group-hug you.

You didn’t even have time to properly take a look at the living room, which had been turned into a cozy haven by the boys, but there would surely be time to appreciate it later.

"Hi, guys," you said, still a little in shock (though, of course, you hugged them back), happy to see them regardless. "What are you all doing here?" you asked, curious.

"Keeho texted us that you’d be here overnight, so we decided to organize a proper sleepover," Jiung answered enthusiastically. "We got loads of movies, especially horror ones, fluffy blankets, and tons of snacks and drinks," he added with a big grin, clearly proud of what they’d pulled together while you and Keeho were on your way.

You looked up to see Keeho entering the living room, which was way too small for all of you, but no one seemed to care. After all, it was about having a good time with your friends, not about how small Keeho’s flat was. Keeho glanced at you with a small smile; no words were needed. Yet, you wanted to say thank you, to somehow show him your gratitude, but you couldn’t, because you were suddenly lifted into the air.

"What the—" you looked around and quickly spotted the culprit who had picked you up from your wheelchair. "Intak! What did I tell you about randomly picking me up? You can’t just do that!" you scolded him in a nagging tone but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto your face.

"I know, I know," he acknowledged with a nod as he carried you towards the couch. "But you have to understand, I missed you way too much and just couldn’t resist holding you in my arms." He flashed you a sweet smile, complete with puppy eyes that always worked on you. That’s why whenever the boys wanted something from you (or did something that might have made you mad), they would use Intak and his puppy eyes to soften you up and get their way.

"Sure," you said, playfully rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t help letting out a chuckle, which made Intak smile even wider. "What a romantic you are."

"Me? Always." As soon as he said it, you heard fake gagging noises from the other boys, especially the younger ones, which only made you laugh; how much you’d missed this.

By the time your conversation ended, Intak had already reached the couch and carefully set you down. You ended up right in the middle, with the best view and easy access to all the snacks and drinks the boys had brought.

"Hey, I was supposed to be the one sitting on one of her sides!" Intak complained, frowning when he noticed Soul and Jongseob, the two youngest of the group, already sitting on either side of you with a big blanket draped over all of you.

"Hm, yikes," said Jongseob, barely paying attention to Intak’s whining as he grabbed some chips from the table. "Sounds like a you problem," he looked at Intak with a triumphant grin, and Soul quickly nodded in agreement.

"These kids, really," Intak muttered to himself, turning toward the armchair right next to the couch. "Seriously?" he said, frustration kicking in.

Theo was already lounging in the armchair, his legs draped over one armrest and a bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap. Without a word, Theo simply shrugged, clearly having no intention of moving. Intak groaned and turned back towards the couch, ready to claim a spot near your legs, only to find Jiung and Keeho already seated there.

"This is impossible," he sighed dramatically, collapsing in defeat on the floor in front of the table — the only space left for him to occupy.

All of you (except for Intak, of course) burst into small fits of laughter at his misfortune. But the moment passed quickly as Jiung pressed play on the TV remote, starting the first of many movies for the night.

With Soul and Jongseob snuggled up on either side of you, your arms wrapped protectively around them under the blanket, you let out a slow exhale through your nose. A wave of contentment washed over you as you relaxed into the moment, savoring it to the fullest.

[messinwitheddie]

Squee "Nny!! It's been, like, 45 minutes! It's a tiny-ass mobile home! What are you still DOING in there?!"

Nny "Right now, I'm sitting on the ugliest crushed velvet couch I've ever seen while eating a big bowl of the best slow cooker chili I've ever had. I can't wait to learn this recipe in the future. On that note, I should invest in a slow cooker."

Squee "Come on, man! You haven't found ANY physical proof he's not the future you yet??"

Nny "I mean... Other than the alarming number of empty tequila bottles left all over the place."

Squee "Ok, well, you never drink, so he's not you. Mystery solved. Let's ho home, please?"

Nny "Eh... I've started worse habits.

Future me is supposedly dying. Maybe I just stop caring."

Squee "Jesus, Nny, really?"

Nny "He lied about having wife. I haven't found any kind of medical bills or ID or photos or anything-"

Squee "Maybe he keeps his ID and important papers on him at all times, because, you know, cops are dicks."

Nny "Maybe, but-- The fuck--? Future me has a vintage dough boy salt shaker... And it's filled with baby teeth!"

Squee "What?"

Nny "Baby teeth, some shiny rocks and a Canadian dime?... I'm going to draw on it. See if I notice."

Squee "Don't draw on his shit, man."

Nny "Seriously, what's with the teeth?

I found a JAR completely filled with gold-capped teeth in his bathroom cupboard. I found a 25 lb bag of powdered lime in his pantry-"

Squee "Oh God..."

Nny "Yup. Just like the one in my pantry--

A chest filled with jewelry-- pirate booty shit."

Squee "That's kind of neat--"

Nny "And a BIRD WATCHING diary filled with nothing but terrible doodles of the local bird population. NO WORDS."

[Previous page

(Excuse any and all spelling mistakes. I always overlook one or two.

Oh, the invasion of privacy. Poor Mr. Casarez. Don't shit on his hobby, Nny lol.

To me, one of the funniest things Nny does, at least according to Twitter what I recall, is break into peoples' homes and helps himself to their stuff before killing them (because it's all fiction!! To be clear. I wouldn't think it was funny if it happened to a real life neighbor or real life person in general.)

Also, now I really want chili, but it's almost well past 3 AM and I have no ingredients for good chili. My fridge is all condiments at the moment. Been a rough year...

Finally, Noise is born!! Sorry, @psycho-doughart for the slow crawl to his debut. Poor little guy doesn't have a voice yet.

Again, I really appreciate any reblogs, comments or tag-comments I've received from previous strips. Tugs my heart strings.]

[eldritch-spouse]

Ahhh! Pinnie! This came to me in a dream. Kalymir with a SO that was formally in the military. They arrive in hell and immediately go drill sargeant on the servants. Definitely planning to militarize the wrath demons if they aren't already.

They'd tell Kalymir a bunch of stories about their time in whatever godfosaken wars they taken part in.

<small> Damn it. Gonna have to actually make another oc now. Pls excuse any writing mistakes. My phone is temperamental.</small>

[Something went wrong with the small text there. Tumblr mobile doesn't usually do that with small text, hm.]

That's also an amazing match for Kalymir!

You're a natural here in Wrath, he's relieved he's not going to have to spend an irritating amount of time teaching you how things work or desensitizing you to gore. After all, you're war-hardened too.

Even if Kalymir will repeatedly tell you the surface's militaries are total wimps, that your wars are usually pretty fucking boring, he understands you're a human- And humans are frail like paper sheets, so he grows to respect you the more you tell him about the conundrums you've survived. Although, you should expect the sickfuck to get hard when he hears the atrocities you've had to commit, or the times where you were broken.

Because of this knowledge, Kalymir starts out already having some respect for you. More than he would have for a serial killer, for example. This respect and admiration will help a lot when it comes to gaining some form of autonomy with Kalymir. It'll also help you deal with his fits and general loudness, as you're not likely to be as terrified of him as a random citizen- You can even surprise him by meeting some of his attitude.

You will make a wonderful, bloodthirsty Queen. Kalymir can't help but think you'd make a glorious wrath demon.

[cryptidclaw]

Rise of Change Family Trees!

I have created family trees for each Order in FamilyEcho (which are linked below) but I have also drawn up a easier to use and read family tree for the Fire Family! v

Drawn (easier to read) Fire Family Tree

Here are the links to the family trees I have created for the au! These are all created on the website FamilyEcho! This website works best on the computer and its pretty hard to use on mobile so im sorry for that!

Also please excuse any mistakes, im sure I have some type-os and some bits Ive forgotten to update after I changed them in the au

Thunder Order Family Tree

Shadow Order Family Tree

Wind Order Family Tree

River Order Family Tree

Blood Order Family Tree (this one is still in progress, I will add it later!)

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Leon with a wheelchair-user! S/O headcanons!

on mobile again (on the bus this time so slay) so apologies if formatting is weird!

thanks so much to the person who requested this! you were a great help ! and apologies for the wait omg

features gn! reader and leon being a good bf!

disclaimer: i am not a wheelchair user nor have any mobility-related issues (i am disabled though, one of those cheeky visually impaired girlies 🦯) so as always, if i have made a mistake, please don't hesitate to reach out and i'll get it sorted!

One thing about Leon

Is that he's strong

So fit

And so willing to give a hand

So if you ever need to take break from rolling your wheels yourself

He's so ready and willing to push you about

In fact, whenever you're out together, he always offers to push your wheelchair right away

It's very sweet, how caring he is, but also how respectful he is when you decline

He'll carry you too

No problem at all

Bridal-style, (te)piggyback, over his shoulder firefighter-style

Whatever you prefer!

It comes in handy when you're in a place that's not very accessible

Or, you just want your big strong man to lift you up like you’re nothing

If you ever need him to help you stand, you know he's got you

You feel so secure and safe in his arms!

This also goes if you ever need support when walking

Gets his car refitted to make it more accessible for you

now you have no excuse, you have to ride in the carizard

Renovates his place too

He plans to wake up next to you for the rest of his life, it's the least he can do

Being the champion’s S/O has a ton of perks

You get invited to exclusive events, get TONS of free stuff, be the most envied person in the region

You find people are more likely to go and above and betond for you

Not because you require accomodations though don’t be silly

But because your boyfriend is the unbeatable champuon

It’s not the best reason for your needs being met

You’ll take what Ws you can get honestly

Lee, by the nature of his career

And really, by his kind and generous personality

Does a lot of charity work

Even working with wheelchair-user related charities before you two ever met

But being with you, seeing your day-to-day. witnessing how inaccessible the world can be

In ways he would have never considered

Really upped his contribution to these charities

He's tryna give you the best life he can

Trying to provide that for others in your situation seems only the right thing to do, especially considering his position

Has a wheelchair patch on his cape to show support during his matches

Luckily Wyndon Stadium is state-of-art

In terms of everything - accessibility included!

It is the crown jewel of Galar after all

Ramps, lifts, automatic doors. multiple accessible bathrooms, specialized viewing areas for wheelchair users

Accessible showers too ;)

Even the VIP area is wheelchair-friendly!

Though you tend to watch from his locker room instead

So you can give your champ a big ol'smooch after his match

Occasionally idotic interviewers praise him for how “brave” and “inspiring” he is for openly dating a disabled peron

Of course, he’s quick to shut that kind of ignorant, condescending shit down

He won’t let anyone talk about you that way

The media, his fans, even people you know

It really grinds his gears – even more since he knows he can’t get angry in public

Naturally, he’s  your biggest cheerleader

He is always there to encourage you 

To give you that support when you're struggling with something

He's careful not to push too far though

After all, it's your body, your limits 

You know yourself and what you can do in that moment more than he ever can

But still, you value his encouragement and belief in you

Even if it's just for a confidence boost!

Whatever you do

Don't let him even think about decorating your wheelchair

You've seen how he dresses and his car - there's no way it can go well

[venushorned-a]

plotted starter for @ourwrittenstories

The Zhentarim hideout had been relatively quiet and uneventful for the first twenty-four hours that they harbored Gossamer;  it wasn’t particularly orthodox, especially as she hardly had any coin on her, but a promise from one of the Saints of the Eye meant something to the Black Network.  She’d only needed to prove who she was and that she couldn’t have cared less about whatever they were doing in Waukeen’s Rest, which she didn’t, and the family opened their doors easily.  It wasn’t ideal to hand a crew of unfamiliar grunts an “IOU,” but she knew a guy.  And she would do what it took to survive;  she always had.

For the first twenty-four hours, that looked like trying to find ways of contacting Grin, her wizard friend, while the Zhentarim buzzed about a pair of agents who had been gone for too long with probably some important shipment.  Gossamer didn’t care;  she wanted to know why she couldn’t cast a sending spell or when she would turn into a ravenous monster.  Without the spell, her best bet was to wait for their next caravan back to Baldur’s Gate.  She would be fine once she was in the city.

Then the raid burned down much of Waukeen’s Rest, and by the morning of her second day there, the Flaming Fist was swarming the outpost;  the missing agents came crawling back talking about gnolls and strange adventurers;  the Zhentarim were preparing to demolish the hideout and escape through a passage to the Underdark.  

When the strange adventurers actually showed up and started sniffing around, things got better and also worse.  The immediate bonus was that they were relatively mobile, partied up as they were, which made for a quicker and easier journey to the city;  it only made things more interesting that the disgusting thing behind her eye began to writhe and squirm in recognition when she saw the lot of them.  They were from the nautiloid, as well.  A shared problem meant more heads toward a solution.

But then there was the drow woman, walking about with a family crest that would have screamed death to anyone who knew better.  Fortunately for her, it seemed like no one around here would have any reason to, but it begged the question of what the hells was going on.  A ghost spider from a fallen house—and the things she’d seen when their tadpoles psychically brushed against one another, thick faerzress plumes, fragmented images of events that Gossamer herself had not seen but recognized with sickening familiarity all the same.  Menzoberranzan, the Rage of Demons, the Abyss—

The first thing she’d done was smile, excuse herself, and find a quiet corner to be sick.  When that was over and dealt with, she went looking for the drow only to find that she had been looking for her, too.

They stood in a dark, quiet crevice, and Gossamer was currently taking a long drink from a brandy bottle she had borrowed from the Black Network.  A Zhent passed by every so often, but they paid the two women no mind.

She watched the drow, her own faerzress-tinged eyes almost seeming to glow in the shadows;  it made it obvious when she glanced down at the crest, brows furrowed in displeasure.  “What’s your name?” Even with six years of surface common on her tongue, there was no mistaking her accent.

[dandyshucks]

okay okay here we go - very messy off-the-cuff oc intro under the cut with some design sketches + doodles (IT'S KIND OF LONG):

random other doodle (another system member's self portrait i think? idk djfkdl) for the last pic there sorry fhdksl it was just a handy photo i had on hand that had almost the same dimensions for tumblrs cropping shenanigans (also that one emoji is there in the first pic bc i couldn't get that eye to cooperate fjkdkl)

anyhowdy uhhmm heres Theodor and Philby... Theodor uses he/she and Philby uses they/it and I'm literally just now realizing that they cover the main four bases wtf ... that was not intentional but it is funky and fun !! Theodor has a few nicknames like Teddy, Dory, Theo, etc, while Philby is is just Philby (their full name is Philbert but only their parents call them that LOL)

Theodor has a port wine stain birthmark on his left cheek ! and Philby potentially has rosacea but I'm still looking into that to make sure I'm not pulling any shitty moves if I'm going to have that be a part of their character. they (Philby) use mobility aids occasionally, generally just a cane, sometimes crutches, but they also have a wheelchair on hand for more difficult days.

Teddy is an interesting mix of very patient and loving while also sometimes cocky and impulsive, so he sometimes say things that are unintentionally hurtful or offensive (but is learning to apologize swiftly to help mend his mistakes). to people who don't know him well, he might come across as arrogant occasionally. he enjoys designing clothing items that Philby will often sew up for him, as well as experimenting with different coloured art mediums (pastels, paint, chalk, etc) and makeup (he is absolutely a skincare girlie fjfkdl). he comes from a family that's well-off (definitely upper class but not necessarily wealthy) so he's used to having money to throw around and doesn't quite fully grasp what it's like to be poor or working (or even middle) class, so there's some butting of heads there.

Philby comes from a working class family, not poor but definitely lower class lol. they have a fair amount of pride and can be kind of prickly, but they're extremely thoughtful and can be very kind and patient when they want to be. they're very practical and well-organized, and is integral to keeping things running smoothly in the household. they're very skilled with sewing and they also happen to be a good cartoonist! it takes a bit for them to warm up to new people, but they're usually just neutral and maybe a bit blunt with people they don't know well. if they dislike a person, they tend to have an attitude of "i don't want to waste any of my time on this person" and avoids the person rather than taking the time and energy to decide if they want to be pointedly rude or remain polite.

both of them are really good with kids in their own way! Philby likes being fun and clownish while Teddy prefers to be more of a comforting ... well... teddy bear sort of presence LOL. both of them are super patient w kids though, and they love to spend time helping out with kids when someone needs a babysitter! (why yes this is almost entirely just an excuse for me to think abt how they'd be so good with the kiddos in our system LMAO) if they ever ran a daycare or preschool together they'd be absolutely phenomenal at it, especially since they make up for what the other lacks in their approaches to interacting with children.

Theo prefers kitschy grandma-type aesthetics in both clothing and decor, while Philby enjoys a lot of bright colours and fun patterns that would fit more into "c.lowncore" and "k.idcore" aesthetics (with some occasional punk influences). Theo enjoys a lot of clothing that is maybe considered more feminine, while Philby just wears whatever is comfortable and brightly coloured, occasionally with some blacks to make the colours pop more!

they have a really interesting contrasting dynamic, Theo being a "gentle giant" while also being somewhat impulsive and more prone to hurting people accidentally with his words, and Philby being smaller in stature and more prickly but also much more thoughtful and careful with their words and actions.

also bonus funny thing: Theodor had a trad g.oth phase as a teen in highschool that lasted a couple years hehe