#but only because he's deeply hurting and doesn't know how to express it in a healthy way

[affableramen]

them apologising for calling you bad names

hurt/comfort, established relationships

(Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Capitano, Alhaitham, Dottore, Dainsleif, Baizhu)

Pantalone

You avoid him for the rest of the day but eventually in the bed time Pantalone meets you. He enters the bedroom with a grave expression in his eyes, eyeing you sit there on the bed with a book in your hands. Distracting, he thinks, she is distracting herself. 

“You know I didn't utter those words seriously”, Pantalone says, omitting the usual ‘darling’ on his lips. You roll your eyes and shake your head dismissively, showing him apparent unwillingness to chat over the issue any longer.

“Say”, Pantalone leans to the door, his fingers, at this moment of time, bare, scratching the roof edges of his antiquated mansion wall, “Are you deeply offended by my comment? It is but something… trivial.” Seeing no reaction from you Pantalone slowly makes his way to the bed and sits down, his body making an impact to the mattress, that being gently pressed on.

“I should have held my tongue.”

“Your tongue is poisonous”, you say abruptly. Upon hearing this, Pantalone reaches his hand to your hand and takes it in his. 

“Hear me out… Please, darling, I would never honestly speak so ill-mannered of you. It was out of stress. You are not… pathetic. Never have been.”

“Mhm. How about ‘brat’? How about ‘loving me only because I provide for the family?’” 

Pantalone closes his eyes and shakes his head. You can see how his own words inflicted upon you sting. 

“Nonsense! Not a single word I spoke then was truthful.”

“Pantalone, if I ever made you doubt my affections, please do let me know.”

You abruptly put your book on the bedside table and switch the lights off. 

Wriothesley

“Why do you keep insisting on these things? You think I don’t know them?”

“I think you’re simply less educated than me. You should understand, Y/N that in some aspects you may be less intelligent. Stupid even.”

“Less intelligent! Stupid!” 

Wriothesley covers his face and bites his own lip when he realises what unruly language he just used. 

“I didn't mean that-”

“That I’m stupid?” Your patience blows up and you decisively start strutting to the exit door of his office.

“I didn't mean to sound that harshly!” Desperately Wriothesley follows; but to no avail. You already shut your door before his nose.

A few hours after Wriothesley finds you in your two’s favourite café, of course it would be the place where you’d go to reflect on your irritation. 

“Here, your favourites”, he puts the bouquet of vivid red flowers on top of the coffee table, next to your hand, and does it with such carefulness of behaviour you would least expect from him.

You look at him, facing Wriothesley’s eyes at last and as if having your thoughts read the duke says with regret:

“And sorry.”

You take a look at the flowers, your fingers caressing the petals.

“Okay”, you respond quietly. Wriothesley receives approval from you and takes a seat, his attitude nothing but amiable, a far cry from his roughness in the morning.

Neuvillette

“I told you that some matters I unfortunately, willing or not, have to solve on my own. There is no place for you in some of my business, because you’re just one weak-” Neuvillette holds his tongue, realising how personally offensive the words he said sounded. How villainous he suddenly appeared before you.

“Human? Yeah, I know. But me being human doesn't mean I can’t think and analyse, and there’s no way I’d approve the responsibility you’re about to take on yourself. I strictly dissgree.”

“Strictly disagree?” Neuvillette does not believe his ears, for you had always been a quiet amd obedient one, quite agreeable and supportive of his opinions. Yet this time you could not stay silent, seeing how your precious husband puts himself in danger for the hundredth time.

“You are to not take on that mission, are we clear, Neuvillette? And I am not weak, neither am I dumb or uninformed.”

In awe, Neuvillette stands there, looking at you. At last he takes one careful step closer, his hand in his hair, pulling it back as he’s thinking on something with raw intensity.

“If my wife is ready to convince me so much to not do something, if she finds my impulses false, then I will do my best to refrain. Knowing how worried you might be for me, perhaps it would be wise to reject the mission first and utmost.”

You nod, your face grave, uninterested as you turn away from him and walk out of his office. Only then Neuvillette stops you, his wrist tightly on yours. 

“Please, beloved, if you could forgive me for my poor choice of words and underestimating your judgment.”

“It doesn't happen first time, Neuvillette, for being a dragon sovereign makes you incredibly stiff to perceiving others’ opinions. But I’m glad if you do truly believe me now.”

“I do. Please, don't stay furious and frustrated for long.” 

You finally smile, forgiving your dragon husband as you make haste to leave the court, otherwise dramatic Fontainian society that loves gossiping and tragedy so much, will turn your little banter into a lavish scandal.

Tartaglia

“Peanut, I just said that you can’t fight as hard as I do, I didn't mean it in a bad way.”

“Of course, Ajax. You meant it in the way ‘I’m the coolest, and you are inferior’.”

“No, no, no. It’s a misunderstanding! Hear me out, babygirl…” Tartaglia gently grips the both of your shoulders and stares intimately into your eyes.

“I just wanted… You know, I just meant…” he blushes crazily and his expression radiates sheer embarrassment as he tries to seek excuse to explain himself. “I, uhh… Consider myself a great fighter, and you are exceptionally good, too…”

“Exceptionally good?” 

“Absolutely exceptionally good, babygirl. But I am simply worried, okay? I’m scared”, he rubs your shoulders up and down, as if trying to comfort you, but in honesty it rather comforts himself. “I don’t want you hurt. So you better stay home. Training.”

“Training only, nice. I will never fight real enemies if I am constantly kept hostage in Fatui training camp.”

“You’re just… so fragile. You know what I mean?”

“Uhuh. The Eleventh considers me a weakling. Nice discovery, if you weren't my boyfriend”, you free yourself from his grasp and go about the narrow long corridor of headquarters. “I thought you would trust in me and my power a tiny bit more.”

Ajax follows you immediately, his steps agile and steady as his hand gently takes yours.

“You may come with me next time. But tomorrow, I want you safe. Okay? And please… I’d never call you weak… Never.”

“Mm…” you gently caress his gloved hand with your thumb, almost failing to see him in the dim light, but feeling his erratic breath caused by quick talking.

Capitano

“I can’t let you do this, woman. You are acting immature. You have always been a bit naïve, but this is where you should start obeying me”, Capitano says with a harsh, yet genteel aura around him.

“And my love for you, Capitano, is also naïve?”

At that moment Capitano drops his expressionless, emotionless act and looks at you with horrified glint in his eyes. He wants to comfort you, to apologise for his words but realises that was once said cannot be taken back. Oh how he wishes he would hold his tongue for a little while longer!

“I didn't mean that, woman. You know that I would never-”

He shuts his eyes for a second, a storm of overwhelming thoughts crosses his mind over and over while you are standing before him, patiently waiting for an answer and expecting your husband to provide you with a proper one.

“You are weak… no not weak; you are frail. You need protection. And I want to protect you, but I may not be able to do it in Natlan. Not when I am wounded myself.”

“Oh, believe me, Capitano, I can and will protect myself. And you know what, big guy? I don't even need your permission to come with you anymore. You will accept me, because I am your wife, and I will be by your side. Especially, when you are wounded.”

Capitano raises his hand to caress your cheek with his knuckles, light-weight.

“You are going to get yourself in trouble, love.”

“I know my limits, and I can clearly see that my husband needs me, even though he won't ever admit it.”

The raven-haired tall gracious man with impeccably sharp aura around him speaks with emotion:

“But if you get hurt, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

You stand on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks.

“Oh, Capitano, I will take care of myself just to spare you the trouble.”

Dottore

“You’re a dork, I don’t even have pity for your stupidity. You got this chemical burn deserved.”

“Said who? You’re the one treating it right now, Doctor”, you respond with a tiny smug smirk, watching how carefully and gently Dottore is working on your palm. The burn is not too big, but painful enough to prevent you from completing your tasks for today.

Dottore reveals his teeth, groaning at you, his self highly dissatisfied and frustrated. He smoothly applies a herbal-smelling ointment and covers your hand with tight bandages.

“I insist you staying home tomorrow. I will speak with Pierro and describe him the accident.”

“Surely you don't have to go to such lengths for me only, Dottore. You know, I could speak with the Jester myself.”

Dottore stabs the knife with which he had been cutting the bandages, into the desk.

“NO, he won’t even speak to you. He is very uneasy to find”, he lets out a long held sigh. “Besides, brat, I think I made it clear you need to rest at home.” He glares at you with his poisonous ruby eyes. “Primarily, in your bed.”

“If the doctor says so”, you shrug, too exhausted to argue and too grateful for his help to deny him of this small favour. “I do not mind staying in my bed for a little while.”

Once the treatment has come to an end, Dottore once again checks your hand; quickly, lightly, without a single unnecessary touch or glance. 

“Sorry for calling you a dork. I didn't mean it wholeheartedly”, he clears throat. “Though I still think your ass is highly careless.”

“I will work on it, hopefully my curiosity doesn't lead me to any other injuries”, you wave to him upon leaving the lab. “Can’t have my doctor worry too much.”

“Remember to look closer what you touch in my lab next time, silly creature.”

Dainsleif

“I think you’re forgetting how difficult it is to fight Abyss alone. I can’t believe you disobeyed me again and went seeking for abyssal hounds. This is infuriating, Y/N. I have never seen a woman act so stupidly and rashly before”, Dainsleif says roughly, through gritted teeth. His expression is grave and ominous.

“I feel strong desire to take your Vision away and lock you home until you learn to respect my rules.”

“Your ‘rules’?” You raise your eyebrow, looking at Dainsleif no less infuriated and frustrated than he is currently. “You think if you’re older than me, I have to act like your little puppet on strings who does everything that is ordered? Hell no, Dainsleif. We won’t have it this way.”

“FOOL!” He yells, his arm grabbing you tightly and pressing you against a wall. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have been hurt! You don’t know the thoughts running through my mind when I imagine you hurt; I want to burn the whole world for you.”

“Let me go, Dain. Please, this is uncalled for, you know that, right?” As you gently ask him Dainsleif slowly, but hesitantly releases your arm and takes a step back, closing his hands behind his back.

“I ask you once again to refrain from getting yourself harmed by the hand of Abyss.”

“Did you just call me a fool? I thought you were better than that.”

“For that ruthless language, I apologise. However I need your obedience when it comes to survival matters.”

Slowly, you walk over to look into Dainsleif’s eyes.

“I understand your tragedy wholeheartedly and I sincerely respect your wish to protect me, but you need to understand that my fighting skills are not low anymore, I can be efficient and agile.”

Dainsleif’s head hangs down, you see that he is contemplating something in the depth of his heart.

“I see”, his hand reaches out to you, even though he is not looking in your direction. Dainself intertwines his fingers with yours and speaks, much quieter and softer words:

“I’m sorry for calling you a fool. That was uncalled for”, his hand gives you a light but worried squeeze. “Just… be careful, Y/N.”

Alhaitham 

“You’re acting like a child. Your opinions are too dreamy, irrational and irrelevant”, Alhaitham speaks briefly as he opens his book and hides his sharp gaze somewhere in the middle of the paragraphs.

Having acknowledged his disregard to you with pain in your heart you throw your arms around and ask him with bright feeling which is contradicting his own manner of speaking.

“Speak about irrelevance! You are the embodiment of irrationality yourself, for guilting me into thinking that you actually care for me.”

Alhaitham stays still for a moment but a tense squeeze he gives the book in his fingers raises even more contradictory emotions between you. 

“I knew you are a difficult person to get intimately acquainted with, but your actions proved that you had at least a bit of attraction towards me. If not, then your choice of words and manner of speaking to personally me was too extreme. If not, and you are dreaded by the mere thought of me being intimately honest with you, spit it out. I don’t want you to play the romance where it no really belongs. I don’t want you to like me out of pity.”

“But I don’t”, Alhaitham finally closes the book and removes from his seat. “Your opinions and decisions make me question whether or not we are compatible enough.”

“That is because you are thinking too rationally.”

“And you are thinking too irrationally.”

“You were the one to touch my hand and hug me in a very personal way. And if I am not mistaken, you are the man who never touches anyone and is dreaded by a mere thought of being pulled out from your serenity.”

Alhaitham then shivers slightly, his body mannerisms betraying distress and frustration that is not by a long shot defined in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for calling you these words. These are bad words, I should not be disrespecting you so”, he looks away, giving his lip a strong bite whereas finally giving you a relief: “I always thought and I still think that you are a perfect companion for me, but our opinions are very unlike.”

“So you think two people cannot get accustomed to living with each other if they have different choice of words or thinking! Alhaitham, this is laughable.”

“The only laughable thing right now is that I desperately want to hug you”, without further hesitation he pulls you into his arms, an embrace filled with warmth and dedication, while his fingers gently stroke your back. “I apologise, my love.”

Baizhu

“You are being too nosy and impatient, sweetheart. I asked you to not ask me specifics of my contracts and yet here you are - interrogating me like some sort of criminal. I am feeling pressured and most frustrated!” He throws his arms around. “Darling, if you could give me some space, I would finish what I started with no further delay.”

“Am I violating your space by simply caring for your well-being? Baizhu, your contract has gone way too far; your help to people robs you of your own happiness, can you not see it?”

“I will be most contented if you simply leave me to finish my work. I would be happy if you simply encouraged me, but I’d be even more grateful if you stopped asking me so many questions.”

You know perfectly well what it’s like to sacrifice yourself for other people’s sake however you could not any longer bear seeing your love life being disrupted by Baizhu constantly feeling sick and suffering. You want nothing more than him to feel safe, secure and well, but instead this curious pharmacist only risks more and more his life in exchange of knowledge and improvement.

Though, Baizhu did recognise your words as a simple statement of care, he only admitted it in a few days. While you were helping him sort his things out in the pharmacy, Baizhu dropped his formal act and gently touched your hand.

“Darling?”

You stopped sorting at once when you heard what he declared:

“I’m sorry, I was so rude to you speaking about my health.”

You turn to face him and notice the sincerest apology in his snake eyes.

“I just wish you’d understand that my worry for you is not intended to make you uncomfortable or distressed.”

“I do understand it now. I will try my best to not bring you suffering from seeing me suffer. I cannot reject what I had started, but I will seek ways to heal both me and you from this torture.”

The gentle confession ends with Baizhu rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. 

[unopposablethumbsao3]

Med school student and noted old man fucker Julian Bashir taking his daddy issues to get drunk one night and running into noted old man Curzon Dax--Curzon, of course, is like "oh hey, free twink", and fucks him in a bathroom stall before heading out to continue his evening of, I don't know, head butting Klingons and both causing and resolving interstellar diplomatic crises. Julian never actually gets his name, and continues with his hot mess express voyage to salutatorian and Deep Space Nine.

Years later, Jadzia Dax on a ship to her new posting, only half paying attention to the sort-of-familiar twink CMO who's very awkwardly hitting on her. She knows she's seen this guy before, she just can't quite figure out where, like, this is his very first posting, he's a brand new graduate from Starfleet medical, and Jadzia's never actually been to Earth herself, in fact the last time Dax was in San Francisco was ... Oh. Oh no.

And of course, at first this is just a little awkward for her--she doesn't like all the things Curzon used to get up to, but like, they were mostly pretty harmless, and she certainly doesn't begrudge him a quick hookup with a very pretty young med student, even if he was possibly a little drunker than she'd like. And of course, it's not like Julian's ever going to know--he was wasted, and Curzon never even told him his name, so really, it's not a problem for Jadzia to put it aside and just be a professional. He's a colleague! No worries! That's that!

Except then she starts to get to know Julian. And beyond the fact that he's a damn good doctor and, it turns out, a deeply loyal friend, the closer they get, the more she starts to see flashes of how vulnerable he is under all the bluster and bravado--he puts on a hell of a brave front, but there's something wounded about him, and a deep, deep need for other people's approval, especially from potential father figures. All of which adds up to Jadzia feeling worse and worse about what happened between him and Curzon. But of course at this point, it feels like it's a little too late for her to say anything. What would it achieve other than embarrassing him, and adding a layer of complication to what's somehow become one of her closest, most important friendships.

Which is why she instead quietly swears a Klingon blood oath that she will protect this twink with her life if it comes to it--that's her pet twink now and anybody messing with him in any way for any reason is going to have to answer to her.

And yes this also means that when Julian and Garak start dating, Jadzia turns up at Garak's shop at closing time with some very pointed questions and an even pointier knife, and refuses to leave until she's absolutely certain that Garak's intentions are honourable (insofar as he's capable of honourable intentions) AND that he knows that if he hurts Julian, she will in fact be carving out his heart and eating it in the middle of the Promenade. Which of course means that Garak figures out what happened between Julian and Curzon because you can't go off on him like that without him instantly clocking the ulterior motives, so now they're at mutually assured destruction, which of course is how they also start to become very good friends (yes Worf hates this).

Also, Jadzia does NOT die during the war--she's Julian's best man when he marries Garak on Cardassia ten years later (neither she nor Garak ever tell Julian about the whole Curzon thing, or the whole I-will-eat-your-heart thing, though he lowkey knows SOMETHING is up because they won't stop exchanging meaningful nods every time they get a little drunk together).

[flwrkid14]

Sleeping beauty!Tim au but make it angsty

Red Robin gets hit with a spell that makes him sleep and no one is able to wake him up. The wizard villain of the week disappeared after hitting Tim with it and only by the grace of God and Red Hood's speed was he caught before he tumbled off the damn roof.

The batfam think it'll be an easy fix, Bruce gets Zatanna to show up... Except...

Bruce: Why did it not work?

Zatanna: it's one of those fickle sleep spells that can only be broken by true love's kiss. Luckily, it doesn't have to be a romantic kiss or one on the lips, as long as it's from someone who truly loves Red Robin.

Bruce: So why is he not awake?

Zatanna: The fickle thing about this particular spell is that for it to break, Red Robin has to believe that the person who kissed him truly loves him.

Cue all the angst and heartbreak and self reflection as the batfam realize, after each of them tries to wake Tim, that their brother genuinely thinks they don't love him.

Eventually it's Kon who manages to wake Tim up with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

In the aftermath, Tim doesn't know how to deal with the way the batfam are looking at him like he broke their hearts or the way Bruce looks uncomfortably on the verge of tears.

Thank you so much for the ask!!—this is such a deliciously angsty concept, and I can’t get over how much it says about the Batfamily and their emotional blind spots.

It’s so painfully them, isn’t it? The Batfamily, who love so fiercely but are absolutely terrible at showing it in ways that matter. They’re all so busy with their missions, their duty, their endless fight to keep Gotham and each other safe, that they don’t stop to think about how their love is perceived. They assume it’s obvious in the way they watch each other’s backs or show up when it counts. But Tim? Tim’s spent so long in the shadows, convincing himself he’s just a cog in the machine, that he doesn’t see any of that as love.

And now they’re standing there, one by one, trying and failing to wake him up. It’s not just frustrating—it’s devastating. Because the truth they’ve all been avoiding is staring them in the face: Tim doesn’t believe they love him. And maybe, deep down, they know why. Every harsh word, every time they brushed him off because there was a bigger crisis, every moment they assumed Tim was fine because he didn’t say otherwise—it’s all coming back to haunt them now.

Jason probably storms off first, pretending it doesn’t bother him, but the guilt is eating him alive. Dick, who prides himself on being the emotional glue of the family, is visibly shaken—because how could he miss this? How could he fail Tim like this? And Bruce, oh, Bruce—he’s silent, but you can see the way his hands tremble, the way his jaw tightens. He’s spent years thinking his actions spoke louder than words, and now he’s realizing he might’ve been wrong.

And when Kon finally wakes Tim up? It’s not just a relief—it’s a wake-up call. Kon, who loves Tim so plainly and without hesitation, didn’t have to fight through layers of doubt or miscommunication. His love was clear, and Tim believed it without question. The Batfamily can’t say the same, and it hurts.

But what really gets me is the aftermath. Tim, sitting there, bewildered and uncomfortable as the Batfamily stares at him with those shattered, guilty expressions. To him, it doesn’t make sense—he’s fine, the mission’s done, so why are they acting like he’s the one who needs fixing? And when Bruce finally asks, voice quiet and cracking, “Why didn’t you believe us?” Tim doesn’t know how to answer. Because in his mind, it wasn’t a question of love—it was a question of worth.

It’s such a raw, painful exploration of the Batfamily’s dynamic. They love each other deeply, but they’re so bad at saying it, at showing it in ways that the other person can feel. And Tim? Tim’s just been waiting, quietly, for proof he didn’t think would ever come.

This is such a beautifully tragic setup, and I love how it forces them all to face what they’ve been avoiding. If you—or anyone—writes this, I would absolutely love to read it!! The emotional fallout alone would be worth its weight in tears!

[marisolls]

self-destruction and self-preservation are not the antithesis of each other, come meet me halfway.

haikyuu ﹙ tsukishima kei x reader ﹚

011125. the fear that comes with loving someone will consume him, you won’t allow that, which makes things even harder.

content warnings. part 1 of 2. angst. emotional repression. heavy miscommunication. fear of abandonment. breakdown. setting isn’t defined, just assume they’re 19 or older.

notes. art cred by azeensart on x. i might not include this in my masterlist for how...heavy these themes are. holy shit. i bawled while writing this (period cramps is getting to me)

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart will either make or break the relationship you both have. him not being able to be open and vulnerable with you not because he thinks its weak, but because he literally cannot overcome that fear.

he knows dating you requires this neck-deep honesty, knows you'd be the first to genuinely reach him in a place of understanding, and would be there for him no matter the circumstances, would have your eyes look at the deepest parts of him and still love just the kei in him. the only ever one.

but there's this unreasonable pressure and obligation he's set on himself to be...more. more than what he is. more than just kei. so he studies hard, plays volleyball and make you proud, gives you his undivided attention, tries to be more than the fear unkowingly playing a factor in what he's trying to do. to make you think he doesn't have one in the first place.

he doesn't want you to think it keeps him up at night, constantly wondering if he'll ever be enough for you. he's so deprived of reassurance but so repulsed and uncomfortable to ask or talk about it, much less show it to you. he's got his own shit going on, and he thinks he operates best in isolation. the last thing he would want from you is for you to worry about him.

no, don't look at him like that. he's too weak under those soft gazes of yours, you deserve more than the kei he is; the unsure and scared and feels too deeply, but too little to allow expressing himself. you deserve more not because you demand from him, but because your love is all-encompassing and unflinching. you give so effortlessly without a shadow of doubt.

you are love. you are everything he’s not.

he tells himself he’s doing this—telling you about his day on the phone but also leaving the parts that matter; like the struggles or how he thinks about you all throughout and just want to admit himself to you the way you do with him. to tell you he’s not normal and constantly yearns for you and feel a little jealous when you talk about other people with him. to tell you he loves you but he kind of hates himself, that he can’t help but settle for a quiet corner of solitude even though the best thing about his day will always be when you invite him to your place and cuddle. he eradicates what his tongue is burning with fervor, he’s doing this—

not to deceive you, but to convince himself he’s worthy of standing beside you. to shield you of what haunts him, what crawls into his skin that make him want to tear his flesh, like parting a pomegranate with sharp nails and deliberately making a mess, yielding to the bite.

he tells himself that he doesn’t want to hurt you. all his wanting, his yearning, can quell itself. but when he does this, it’s all the more likely of being susceptible to vulnerability. all the more hurtful, to both you and him.

and then he fucked up so bad to the point he’s shaking and white-knuckling and nearly in tears—or rather bursting. he really did turn into a mess, losing himself to the fear that you’d leave him. that you are leaving him.

technically it’s his fault. it was your 9th date, or after that. he stayed a bit in your studio apartment by habit. you always make warm dinners. though he was quiet the entire night and refused to talk when you asked. but again, you’re always trying to unravel him, gently wriggling yourself inside, tiptoe your way into holding him. always, always letting him know you’re there. that you’re somewhere there in him, trying to feel him in the best way possible.

you held his hand and casually massaged his fingers, tracing the lines of his palm and not uttering a word but an easy smile curls around your lips and he’s not—he’s not going to ruin this moment. there’s an aching between his ribs, the intimacy of it all twists his insides in an unpleasant way and he feels so ashamed that he only gives himself half-hearted to you. that your patience is all but a fleeting gift, that you’ll eventually lose this touch once you grow sick of him. sick of his selfishness and insecurities.

you asked after a while, “does this hurt?” referring to his recently bandaged middle and ring finger. you looked at him—shit, he finds himself noticing that generally, he can’t even meet your gaze without feeling like he’ll cry.

you just look so beautiful, he’ll pray to a god for you to have all the good things in the world, he wish he could right now, but not like this—when he’s thinking of how to build more distance, more walls; to put him at his twisted concept of being at ease that this is good, this is what you need.

(he doesn’t understand the horrors you’ve faced to have achieved this absolute grace. the way that you’ve learned how to part a pomegranate carefully, still a tad messy but so much better than the last. he doesn’t understand the extent of how you love.)

“what…?” and he doesn’t understand why you sounded genuinely appalled.

he rephrases, “i just don’t want you to get too attached.”

“no.” you dropped your hand, setting a few feet away from him. the expression you’re making unsettles him, looking so hurt and confused, “you said- you said you don’t want me to depend my happiness on you. what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i said what i said,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at you.

“no, you didn’t. that’s just your cowardly way of avoiding this conversation,” you snap. “why do you always do this? why can’t you just talk to me?”

his gaze flickers toward you, but he doesn’t respond. his silence feels heavier than any words could have been, a chasm opening between you. (and a pomegranate about to spill itself into chaos)

“do you think i’m that fragile?” you ask, voice trembling, teetering between anger and heartbreak. “that i’m just going to crumble if you let me in?”

“it’s not that,” he says, his tone clipped, defensive. “you just wouldn’t get it.”

“oh, here we go,” you scoff, you flail your arms and roll your eyes. “the classic. ‘you wouldn’t get it.’ you act like you’re the only one who’s ever felt scared or unsure or—”

“shut up,” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

it makes you flinch momentarily, but you sink yourself in, sharper than nails, more like teeth.

“no. i won’t. because you’re not being fair to me, kei. do you even realize what you’re saying right now? you’re acting like—like this is my fault. like i’m asking for too much just by loving you!”

“that’s not what i’m saying!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“then what are you saying?” you yell back, tears starting to sting your eyes. “because all i hear is you trying to push me away. again.”

“i’m protecting you!” he bursts out, his voice raw, almost desperate. “don’t you get that? i’m doing this for you!”

“bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you’re doing this for yourself, kei. because you’re too scared to be honest with me. because you think it’s easier to shut me out than to let me see you—really see you.”

he could cry any second, but it’s the knee-jerk reaction that always sets in, the things that never helped him but had come to terms with. and he shouldn’t really be like this, but he doesn’t know how to be anything other than what he is.

he sucks a breath, expression hardening, a wave of something defensive and bitter crossing his face. “maybe you shouldn’t depend on me so much, then,” he says coldly, his words cutting and surpassing nails or teeth. it’s the knife.

your shoulders sag, forgetting to breathe in the worst way possible. “wow,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you really think so little of me, don’t you? you think i can’t handle you, or us, or whatever this is. fine then, if that’s how you feel, then maybe i should stop trying.”

(you instantly regret it. because a part of you remains so selfishly unselfish. you want to bleed and heal for him, to make yourself bare because you know you have nothing in your hands. you’ve got nothing but yourself to give. and this is how you love, and it pains you so fucking much that he’s completely rejecting the only thing you have.)

“…i think you should leave.”

his head jerks slightly, caught off guard. “huh?”

“what do you mean huh?” you tremble against the weight of your words, “go. i need to be alone.”

he stares at you, his mouth opening as if to argue, but nothing comes out. his fingers twitch at his sides, unsure of what to do. “you’re serious,” he says finally, his tone flat but laced with disbelief.

“yeah, kei, i’m serious,” you snap, your eyes glistening. “since you clearly don’t want to talk, and you think pushing me away is somehow doing me a favor, then fine. go. you don’t have to ‘protect’ me anymore.”

his brows knit together, and for a moment, his mask falters. “that’s not what i—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “don’t try to explain now. i can’t—” you take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i can’t keep fighting to understand you when you won’t even…fight for me. just how cruel of you to ask me not to depend my happiness on you, when you know you’re all i ever want.”

it’s your voice cracking that sets his jaw unbearably taut, his eyes darting to the floor. he wants to say something, but he feels so fucking useless the words could choke itself.

“you think you’re protecting me,” you continue, your voice softer now, but no less painful. “but all you’re doing is making me feel like i’m not enough for you. like i’m some burden you have to keep at arm’s length.”

“that’s not…”

“then what is it, kei?” you ask, desperate, your eyes searching his. “what are you so afraid of? me? us?”

he looks away, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists.

“screw it,” you mutter, turning your back. “just go. please.”

the word please is what makes his heart lurch. it’s not angry or demanding. it’s pleading, broken. and it terrifies him.

“wait,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.

you don’t turn around.

“don’t do this,” he says, more firmly now, but there’s a tremor in his voice. “don’t… don’t ask me to leave.”

“why not?” you ask bitterly, “you’ve been keeping me at a distance this whole time anyway. what’s the difference?”

you don’t look back when he says, after another long pause, “…if that’s what you want.”

your heart sinks as you finally watch him turn toward the door. he hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob, he can’t stop the shaking of it and his fingers feel so cold and the warmth he’s craving now is just pathetic. he waits for you. for you to stop him. for you to reach him like you never fail to do.

but you don’t.

and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, your ears start ringing and your head has fucked you enough that you want to scream. it feels too painful to stuff it in. you kneel to the floor with your head in your hands, the weight of the argument crashing down on you.

outside, kei leans against the wall, his chest heaving as he stares blankly ahead, the overwhelming urge to go back and fix everything warring with the fear that it’s already too late.

are you going to leave him?

are you going to leave him?

you’re going to leave him.

he can’t figure out how to unfuck all the mess. and he shivers with so much dread, he doesn’t realize he’s weeping under a streetlamp and barely holding himself. he doesn’t even know how to cry properly, but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he’s convinced—he’s fucking trying to already swallow the inevitability of you and him falling apart. he deserves this.

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart can ultimately break yourselves apart. and it does. it’s sort of a heart disease not even death can console the pain.

taglist. @leafington @angeleilee @yoru-exe here you go, angst is good for the soul ,,,,

SOLVISUN 2025. all rights reserved, do not repost/alter.

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[meowssmer]

Caleb x reader/mc

CW: pseudocest

You accidentally cut yourself and Caleb tries to clean your wounds.

— 🍎🍏 —

It hurts. He knows. Your eyes keep flickering to the floor, never staying on his face. You cut yourself trying to make bunnies out of apple slices. He chuckles a little at that. Hurting yourself for him... he detests it, but there's a joy swelling in him. For him, for him, for him.

He drags your hand closer to his mouth and slowly pushes his tongue out onto your cuts. It was his fault you were hurt— he'll rectify this. He'd do anything for you. It's in his nature, programmed into his flesh and blood.

You're flinching at the pain, but you never pull away. He smiles against the palm of your hand. His broken bird who willingly stays in its cage, he's so happy you chose him. He has crafted this perfect stage for you, preformed as your loving brother and golden child. Everything: a lie. For you, for you, for you.

He nips at your skin. No longer does he remember what he was doing this for. To fix his wrongs? To heal you? How will they know you're his? Without marred flesh, smooth and soft, land to be dug through. He wants to be buried within you. His coffin— remember him— forever and ever. Be haunted by him even without physical form or voice. Living in you: his pulsing muscle and twitching eyes. His heart in yours. He loves you, he molded you.

You let him hurt you, it's permission enough. Laying limp a bewildered expression possessing you, he's sure he looks pathetic right now. Heaving with so much want, body wracked with desire built up from years living under the same roof. He's pretty sure he'll die from this. Die for you, die because of you. The details elude him, he doesn't care, as long as you're here, he won't ever care.

He lets out a breath. The heat makes you shiver. He loves the way you react to him, only him. He's so focused on you he doesn't realize he's shaking. As overjoyed he is, he is deeply afraid you'll pull away when you finally come to your senses. When the pain stops numbing you, you'll really see him. Not your golden perfect brother, but a man whose soul burnt to ash for you.

Disgusting, pathetic, clingy Caleb. An idiot who thinks he can fly into the blazing Sun without setting on fire. Will you let him? Without the haze, in clear skies without clouds or rain, will you let him? You look at him. Do you know? That untethered look in your eyes— it hurts him the most. At last, he bites.

[cho-aaacho]

Jealousy isn't really your style, is it?

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru

He becomes increasingly silent—too silent until you can't detect his emotion. His appetite vanished as waves of jealousy showered on his mind. You don't even notice that at first, thinking he might be tired from work.

However, as the sun goes down to the horizon and is replaced by the moonlight, his smile fades whenever your eyes meet his. He refrains from calling you endearing nicknames, skips the usual sensual morning kiss, and avoids his favorite cookies. When you suggest playing video games, Gojo simply groans and leaves you alone.

What's happening to him? Did you hurt your sweetheart? No. Until the sky falls, you don't have a heart to hurt your sweetheart.

You can't let the stillness linger; you can't leave everything unresolved. It's so hurtful, to be honest. Why would Gojo be so selfish like this? You need to find out what's going on with your little sweetheart.

That night, Gojo stood in his favorite spot within the apartment, drowning in the beautiful goldfish in the aquarium. Golden and yellow, reflected in his eyes like sunflower petals.

He gently tapped his finger on the aquarium's glass, making the whole atmosphere feel so cold. Gojo seemed unusually relaxed, in contrast to the person he once was. 

"I know I might come off as a boring and annoying man. People often say that, and I usually don't care about it at all because I understand it's not important. But when it comes from you—please... I don't want to hear that."

You do not quite understand what he means, but Gojo appears deeply hurt. His azure eyes, his words, his breath, the cologne he uses this time, the way he gazes at you—something feels off and unplaced.

This is the first time you've seen him so blue and so pained that the warmth in his lovely presence is almost undetectable. Everything is gone.

"Hey, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it hurts me when you smile at other guys. I want you to be mine, and only mine, and no one else. Please don't do that again, because you're irreplaceable. If I lose you, I can't find another like you."

Geto Suguru 

At first, he doesn't show his jealousy because Geto is the sweetest.

However, there comes a moment when he becomes more affectionate—increased physical touch, frequent kisses, hugs, showering you with praise, texting you almost every hour.

And when he does these things, he always leaves a sarcastic comment like, "I'm a better man, aren't I?" or "Can you see how much I care about you more than anyone else?"

and "I hope you're not blind enough to understand my affection."

also "I know you're not stupid enough to leave me alone. Because I hate being a loner."

It's somewhat annoying because Geto rarely behaves like this. It's simply... so strange, leaving you confused about whether it's a prank by the twins, if something horrible has hit him, or maybe he is too much into reading a weird romantic novel.

That morning, when you are sleeping on his lap, feeling his love, warmth, and kindness, he delicately traces his fingertips across your cheeks, down to your jawline, then meanders to your nose, pinching it gently, leaving a small chuckle before circling back to playfully tease the contour of your lips.

He leaned closer, sealing a gentle kiss on the nose tip and moving before grazing your lips with a small nibble. "Did Satoru ever kiss you like this? I doubt he has done this to you."

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion etching your expression. "What do you mean, Suguru-kun?"

He sighed. "Don't think I haven't noticed, cutie. I may not match Satoru's strength, but I'm not stupid. What were you up to with him last week? You seemed quite charmed with him, didn't you?"

He added. "Should I end both of you, so he can't have you and you can't have him? But I lack the heart to harm you, sweet love. Stop talking with that man. Because I hate sharing my love with someone else."

Nanami Kento

A tough man, he doesn't even realize if jealousy is starting to invade him; perhaps you might label it as denial. 

He puts on a facade that everything is fine, brushing off any concerns by assuming them to be mere imagination or work-induced stress.

No, you didn't cheat or talk with another man. You're always a nice woman to Nanami Kento, and of course, never in your wildest dreams will you hurt your man. 

However, a weird sensation starts to trouble him the next day when his coworkers engage in silly gossip about him and you. 

Whispers float behind him, dripping with a sarcastic tone like, "How could a good woman like her date someone like Nanami-san? He's so boring."

and someone chimes in. "Yeah, I heard she dumped Gojo-san and went with him; why does she think like that?"

From that moment onward, everything feels upside down.

Each day, each time, every time he sees your face, catches your gaze, and hears your voice echoing in his ears, all of these hurt him. 

He feels like he doesn't deserve you and thinks that perhaps you can find another guy, someone special, someplace that would make you safe and happy, someone who could make you feel at home whenever you run to them. 

And that man is not me.

"I realize I might not be as caring as other men, or perhaps I come off as too boring for someone like you. Honestly, I don't wish for your kindness to be shared with anyone else—even a fleeting smile from you stirs a deep ache within me. Maybe it's an obsession, but if you allow me to share my jealousy, I don't want you to meet that guy, Gojo Satoru. For heaven's sake, I fear losing all control and ending up hurting you. I love you." 

Fushiguro Megumi

Honestly, his anger management is the worst. There are scenes when he appears calm, collected, and cute, but, again, it's merely a facade he is creating, especially in your presence. 

When the flames of jealousy shower on Megumi, flirting with his life, everything transforms into a hellish field.

He loses his temper and becomes easily offended whenever Yuuji attempts to engage in conversation with him, roasting everyone in sight. The situation continues until Maki beats him and tells him how annoying he is.

He has a terrible urge to throw punches at everyone, driven by the need to tell them that you belong to him. He needs to make it clear that you're already committed to someone else and that your heart is sealed with Fushiguro Megumi. Only with that man and no one else.

His intention is not just to show his obsession but also to dissuade others from bothering both of you. He longs to compel them to kneel, satisfying his fleeting sense of pride.

It's pretty hilarious because whenever Gojo catches wind of it, he bursts into laughter and playfully teases Megumi all day. Well, it's natural for anyone to have jealousy within them, but... doesn't Megumi take it a bit too far?

You've observed this pattern and tried to convince your dear boyfriend that everything around him is just his imagination. He shouldn't be worrying, and he just hurts himself by treating people like that.

Yet, Megumi is Megumi.

"I don't think I'm overreacting to this. When I'm upset, I express it openly. It's frustrating when people assume I'm obsessed with you—I'm not. I just don't want you to get involved with someone who isn't worth it for you. I fear you'll end up hurt. You can choose me; I can prove not only to you but to everyone that I am the one who truly deserves you."

Choso

Choso isn't typically the jealous type, but when he notices a certain closeness between you and his brothers, everything changes. 

He genuinely cares for his brothers, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and love. He values the bond you share with his brothers and cherishes the love and affection you have for each other.

However...

It's hard for him to put it into words. Everything is stuck in his throat and sealed inside his head. 

Every time he sees you with his brothers blossoming an indescribable feeling within him, it's a burning sensation that's hard to bear. The flame is starting to burn him alive.

The way you share meals with them or laugh at their jokes—all of these irritate him to the point that they make his heart beat so fast. Choso is aware that these emotions are too complicated; he can't hate his brothers, but the heart has a way of contradicting logic. 

How could God put love in his heart?

He fondly recalls the first snow you experienced together, the gentle embrace of summer against his skin, and the golden glow of spring's sun. 

But he still wonders when he falls in love with you. Maybe since the first time he met you? Or else?

"I find immense joy in sharing my time and days with you. My brothers seem to love you as well. Everything about you is beautiful, and I cherish the moments we share. I fear losing you and our precious time; that's why I act this way when you're with them. I want to be the one you choose."

[emmafrostyyy]

y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.

[sirfrogsworth]

Falling into the AI vortex.

Before I deeply criticize something, I try to understand it more than surface level.

With guns, I went into deep research mode and learned as much as I could about the actual guns so I could be more effective in my gun control advocacy.

I learned things like... silencers are not silent. They are mainly for hearing protection and not assassinations. It's actually small caliber subsonic ammo that is a concern for covert shooting. A suppressor can aid with that goal, but its benefits as hearing protection outweigh that very rare circumstance.

AR15s... not that powerful. They use a tiny bullet. Originally it could not even be used against thick animal hides. It was classified as a "varmint hunting" gun. There are other factors that make it more dangerous like lightweight ammo, magazine capacity, medium range accuracy, and being able to penetrate things because the tiny bullets go faster. But in most mass shooting situations where the shooting distance is less than 20 feet, they really aren't more effective than a handgun. They are just popular for that purpose. Dare I say... a mass shooting fad or cliche. But there are several handguns that could be more powerful and deadly—capable of one bullet kills if shot anywhere near the chest. And easier to conceal and operate in close quarters like a school hallway.

This deeper understanding tells me that banning one type of gun may not be the solution people are hoping for. And that if you don't approach gun control holistically (all guns vs one gun), you may only get marginal benefits from great effort and resources.

Now I'm starting the same process with AI tools.

Everyone is stuck in "AI is bad" mode. And I understand why. But I worry there is nuance we are missing with this reactionary approach. Plus, "AI is bad" isn't a solution to the problem. It may be bad, but it is here and we need to figure out realistic approaches to mitigate the damage.

So I have been using AI tools. I am trying to understand how they work, what they are good for, and what problems we should be most worried about.

I've been at this for nearly a month and this may not be what everyone wants to hear, but I have had some surprising interactions with AI. Good interactions. Helpful interactions. I was even able to use it to help me keep from an anxiety thought spiral. It was genuinely therapeutic. And I am still processing that experience and am not sure what to say about it yet.

If I am able to write an essay on my findings and thoughts, I hope people will understand why I went into the belly of the beast. I hope they won't see me as an AI traitor.

A big part of my motivation to do this was because of a friend of mine. He was hit by a drunk driver many years ago. He is a quadriplegic. He has limited use of his arms and hands and his head movement is constrained.

When people say, "just pick up a pencil and learn to draw" I always cringe at his expense. He was an artist. He already learned how to pick up a pencil and draw. That was taken away from him. (And please don't say he can stick a pencil in his mouth. Some quads have that ability—he does not. It is not a thing all of them can do.) But now he has a tool that allows him to be creative again. And it has noticeably changed his life. It is a kind of art therapy that has had massive positive effects on his depression.

We have had a couple of tense arguments about the ethics of AI. He is all-in because of his circumstances. And it is difficult to express my opinions when faced with that. But he asked and I answered. He tried to defend it and did a poor job. Which, considering how smart he is, was hard to watch.

But I love my friend and I feel I'd like to at least know what I'm talking about. I want to try and experience the benefits he is seeing. And I'd like to see if there is a way for this technology to exist where it doesn't hurt more than it helps.

I don't know when I will be done with my experiment. My health is improving but I am still struggling and I will need to cut my dose again soon. But for now I am just collecting information and learning.

I guess I just wanted to prepare people for what I'm doing.

And ask they keep an open mind with my findings. Not all of them will be "AI is bad."

[mikeypubes]

༊*·˚ mikey fluff headcanons ༊*·˚

[ Note: someone requested this but I can't freaking find it so if you're out there, I'm sorry 😓 ]

°˖✧✿✧˖°

clingy ASF. he's always on you in some way or another, like he'll casually drape himself over your shoulders, rest his head in your lap, or wrap his arms around your waist while whining about how tired he is.

not only that, but his energy comes from cuddles. your bed? nah, it's his and you're his plushie that he can snuggle 🤷‍♀️

he's gonna stuff his face into your head and smell your hair, he loves the smell of your shampoo.

he’ll always hold you close while you sleep, burying his face in your neck and taking in your scent with a deep inhale.

sometimes he does little things and seeks praise from you or a head pat. your acknowledgement about small things here and there matter a lot to him, for god knows what reason.

he's gonna get you really random lil gifts. cool-looking rock? yours. a keychain of your favorite character? snatched (but not unless you tell him that he's your most favorite). a small snack from the convenience store, too (he bought two, one for you and one for himself but he WILL steal yours anyway 🤗).

he loves it when you baby him. take care of him, indulge in his childish tendencies, give into his annoying wants, give him cheek kisses (most important thing ever).

although he's really cool and badass a lot of the time, he can feel vulnerable and open with you, so he's never shy about expressing his true self.

but boy is this boy jealous. he doesn’t get mad, but he does get pouty. if you spend too much time with someone else, expect him to flop onto you like a dead weight and grumble about how he should be your favorite person. the only way out of it is to show him a lot of attention and preferably to give him a kiss.

he's also gonna get pouty at the other dude in question, and tell him that you're HIS 🤨✋

i feel like he likes drawing on you (drawing ugly ass shit). you woke up once and greeted emma unknowing of the monstrosity on your face (it was a 💩)

he's not gonna remember your anniversaries but he's gonna remember that one time you looked at a necklace or dress that you thought was really cute and he'll bring it on your birthday.

so basically he notices really small things but always forgets the big stuff.

i feel like he talks in his sleep. definitely faked snoring once to annoy tf outta you.

texts you the most RANDOM stuff at ass o'clock.

you’ll get messages like “what if we got a pet duck” at 3 AM, and he expects a proper response, and if you don’t answer fast enough, he'll go “hello?? this is important??"

loves messing with your hair. if you have long hair, he’ll twirl it around his fingers absentmindedly while talking to you. if it’s short, he’ll ruffle it just to see your reaction.

you let him braid it once and it turned out HORRID.

he loves getting your attention, esp if it's on someone else.

he's so deeply in love with you but thanks to his personality, it seems like a child's puppy love

but he's always thinking of you, especially when he's emotionally stressed or lost. he's always gonna find himself seeking you out because you always make him feel better.

he doesn't think he can live without you.

but he'd LOSE his shit if you got hurt or anyone messed with you. the entirety of toman would fight for you tbh.

he really likes seeing you wear his clothes. it inflates his boyfriend ego.

yeah i think that's it i suck at writing fluff 😭

°˖✧✿✧˖°

[redvelvetthief]

Kaz keeps asking Inej "what would you like?" "What do you want?" "Can I get you anything?" It's strange, and she doesn't understand it. She always says that she doesn't want anything, that she's pleased with what she has.

Kaz has always given Inej little gifts here and there - her first knife, silk ties for her hair, the occasional hot chocolate when the weather grows cold. But lately, he's been especially insistent on trying to give bigger gifts. More expensive gifts. She finds them every time she comes back to Kerch after months at sea - a brand new silver knife set, authentic Suli silks, sometimes he even resorts to leaving her stacks of kruge. He asks her if she wants something specific from time to time but she always says no.

Inej thinks it's nice at first, albeit strange, but after the third time that she finds an "allowance" left in an envelope on her bed, she starts to get angry. That anger grows after talking with Nina about it. Nina further emphasizes how offensive it is that Kaz thinks he can just buy Inej's affection through silly gifts. How could he possibly think it would be a good idea to get her Suli silks considering she was forced to wear cheap knock-offs of them at the Menagerie? Even Jesper is confused by it, asking what Inej might've done recently that would cause this increase in generosity from Kaz. He tries to joke with her and says he probably gives gifts like this all the time but that just serves to make Inej feel upset and hurt. She starts ignoring Kaz and lashing out at him, so he stops. He stops the gifts altogether. But with that, he grows distant from her. Cold. Like how he was before their trip to the ice court.

But then, she talks to Wylan. And Wylan can't help but laugh.

He explains that Kaz is showing Inej that he cares and loves her in the only way he knows how. That this is the Kerch way. Gift-giving.

He explains that Ravkan people tend to show affection through words of affirmation, considering their intense connection to literature, history, and story-telling. Meanwhile, Fjerdans express their love through quality time because of their deeply communal and duty-driven society. The Zemeni provide acts of service with their strong emphasis on hospitality and helping others. Suli culture values movement, presence, and closeness, making physical touch a natural expression of love.

But the Kerch? The Kerch show affection through gift-giving. The more thoughtful the gift, the greater the love. And every time Kaz asks Inej "what would you like?" and she says "nothing" it makes him feel useless, like he can't show her how he truly feels about her. Wylan explains that only makes sense that Inej would be upset about the gestures. Considering the Suli's nomadic and down-to-earth lifestyle, they tend to reject most material items, only choosing to carry the essentials with them.

Inej is speechless by the end of Wylan's explanation. All this time, and she never realized that she was practically telling Kaz to not care about her. To not love her. But it'll be fine. She knows exactly how to fix this. Rushing out of the Van Eck mansion, she stops at the most luxurious leather shop in all of Ketterdam, and she picks out a pair of beautiful, hand-crafted leather gloves. They cost a fortune but it's nothing she can't spare for him - the one who strives to give her everything.

When she presents the gift to him, Kaz barely reacts, and she fears that the misunderstanding may be far worse than she thought. But when Kaz slips the gloves on his hands, flexing his fingers with the barest hint of a smile on his face, and he softly says, "thank you," Inej knows everything will be fine. Needless to say, Inej never rejects a single gift from Kaz.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Can I request how Alastor would be when wifey was giving birth to any of the kids??

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Childbirth?

Description: 👆⬆️

When you go into labor, Alastor is probably in an overlord meeting or something when he gets the news

On the outside he's very calm, simply nodding and standing up while dusting himself off

"Ah, my most sincere apologies but I really must be going! Carmilla, your assistance would be deeply appreciated!"

Carmilla immediately gets the hint and ends the meeting early, Zestial and her daughters trailing behind her

Of course all the other overlords are curious af but Alastor doesn't give them the satisfaction of an answer

"Is it your pretty wife, radioman? She having the baby already?!"

Velvette is shoving her phone in his face and already opening up all her social media apps, Alastor simply walking around her

"Another time, my dear Velvette~"

In fact, he's all laid back smiles and effortless charm just like always, despite everyone else around him panicking

Charlie

"Charlie~ My dear, you must calm down! My wife is the strongest woman I know! She will be fine..!"

He instills confidence in everyone else around him until he's actually alone with you

Husk is the only one who sees through his facade but doesn't comment on it, simply sliding Alastor a single shot to knock back

He refuses to let anybody in that isn't strictly necessary, so Charlie is booted out, and Niffty has to be escorted out like five times

He tries to convince Zestial to leave, but at that point, he's much too focused on you

His grip on your hand is just as tight as your own and his smile is strained with worry, his usual air of confidence has now turned into quiet anxiety

Alastor's lips are nearly pressed against your temple as he whispers soft words of encouragement and apologies to you, rubbing your hip soothingly

If you're in a lot of pain or the birth is extremely traumatic for you then he'll feel guilty and give Lucifer a few dirty looks because it's partly his fault too

He is very soft and gentle with you throughout the entire labor process no matter how you treat him, he's only worried about you and the pain you're in

"This is all your fault! You did this to me!You terrible man!!"

"I know, darling... I'm sorry, please forgive me."

Once you've given birth then he's wiping sweat from your forehead and telling you how proud he is of you, cooing at you and trying to make you smile even though you're exhausted

"Even when you've been through such an ordeal, you're just as beautiful as ever, darling~"

Of course he's super interested in the baby too, checking them over and just watching you hold them with a lovesick expression

Your husband is also eager to hold his child, singing you to sleep while rocking the baby in his arms

He dotes on you and the baby, making sure every need is taken care of and crawling into bed to join the snuggles if you let him

He absolutely doesn't leave your side until you're practically begging him to give you space, and even then, he's reluctant to leave

"Darling, surely an hour is too long? Can't we shave it down to thirty minutes and I'll bring you back some jambalaya?"

He has the biggest, sweetest, most earnest look on his face. You almost forget he's a cold-blooded killer and a demonic overlord

"Make it forty minutes and bring me an extra pillow, please?"

"It's a deal~"

It's so sweet and domestic that it makes his teeth hurt, but he wouldn't trade it for the world

[very-straight-blog]

It really tires me how some fans try to make Aegon look like an asshole who doesn't give a shit about anything. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character as such. Of course he cares, that's literally the essence of his personality. He cares. He and Aemond both feel too much emotion, but if Aemond sublimates into self–improvement, trying to be strong, cold and detached, then Aegon is literally an open wound. I want to talk about this, also using Tom's interviews (yes, I think the actor's opinion is valid in this matter) and the few scenes that we have in the first season.

We know that Aegon didn't want the throne and wasn't ready to rule. The scene with Alicent, who explains to him the prospects for the future of their family, seems very traumatic to me. Imagine what it's like to know from your childhood that the lives of people close to you depend on you, on how strong you'll be. Such a burden can destroy anyone. You can't just ignore it.

Next, we're shown how Aegon drinks on Driftmark. And that's a pretty sad sight - several cups in a row, wincing, as if taking a medicine that will help him to feel better.

Actually, I like the theory that he gets drunk after Aemond says that Helaena is his future queen. Another reminder that he'll have to marry his own sister, for whom he has no feelings. And he drinks because he tries to numb his pain.

The same goes for his obviously unhealthy attitude towards sex - he uses it to numb his loneliness. I believe that Aegon literally didn't have the opportunity to feel what love is in any form. His father disliked him and showed it openly. His mother loved him, but she never knew how to express it the way he needed to. He was married to his sister (the tragedy for both of them) and it was a matter of duty, not feelings. At the time of the first season, Aegon is deeply unhappy and this is obvious. I have every reason to believe that his need for physical intimacy is based on the fact that this is the only form of love he can receive. Considering that Aegon is quite smart, I even think that he himself understands how ugly this form is, but there's nothing he can do. During the act, I guess in some unhealthy way it really saves him from loneliness, longing and the need to be loved, but in the end it makes him even more unhappy.

Then it's impossible not to remember the eighth episode and the famous:

It's still clear that family is important to him. Yes, he feels like a stranger among his relatives, but it hurts him just because he cares. He cries and says "it will never be enough for you or father" because he wants it to be enough. He still loves them and wants them to love him back.

"What Aegon wants more than anything is to be told by his dad ‘I have faith in your capabilities as a young man. I see you bringing prosperity to King’s Landing.’ But he hasn’t said any of those things. His dad has completely ignored him, in fact, throughout his entire youth." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Esquire

Next, we can move on to episode nine and the fact that Aegon ran away. I've seen a lot of opinions that this is an indicator of selfishness and like...what? He was scared. This follows from the script:

He was scared, he'd never leave his family, much less Sunfyre. It was a decision made in a panic when he realized that his father had died and the moment he had feared all his life had come - he needed to accept the crown to protect his family.

During the conversation in the carriage, we see that Aegon was really hurt that his father didn't love him:

He even said "because he didn't like me" when talking about his father's attitude towards him. He didn't use the word "love" because it was obvious to him that his father didn't love him. He used the word "like", unknowingly emphasizing that he couldn't count on even simple sympathy.

He's also well aware that Viserys could have named him the heir, but didn't do so simply because he didn't want to and because of this, he - the eldest son, feels unworthy of the throne, and also completely lost.

When Alicent tells him that Viserys wanted to make him the heir before his death, an emotional dam breaks inside him, it's literally written in the script:

And at this moment, looking at the dagger, he's not even listening to Alicent, he's completely in his thoughts - maybe, at least for a second, his father cared about him. And when he asks his mother if she loves him, we see how much he craves love, how broken he really is, how important his family is to him.

I know this post is insanely long and I haven't even analyzed the various microexpressions in Tom's acting, but I'm really tired of people wanting to make Aegon something pure evil.

"I also see Aegon as being incredibly complex. He's not an out-and-out psychopath. I see a multilayered character that just has endless potential of pits of vulnerability and empathy and things that we don't see. I think it's his vulnerability that breeds the darkness. It's the way he copes, it's his security, it's his safety blanket, it's an addictive coping mechanism for him to shut things out and to be cold." (с) Tom Glynn-Carney for Entertainment Weekly

[animeyanderelover]

I don’t know where I was going with this. But that doesn’t matter. The power of simping is simply too strong. I left out Finn because he died pretty quickly so I have no way of characterising him really well. I also know that apparently there is another sibling but I haven't watched The Originals so that's that.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, overprotective behavior, intimidation, threats, blackmailing, manipulation, violence, death

Images

Elijah Mikaelson

✞Elijah doesn't love easily. It speaks volumes that throughout his entire life as a vampire he has loved very few times only for that love to slip through his fingers like sand. Whether that loss has been his fault or the fault of the woman that he has loved, he has long since realised that he has never been innocent yet still he desires to maintain the image of the logical and rational man amongst a family filled with violence, impulsiveness and overflowing emotions that so quickly spiral out of control. If there is one person he wishes to be what he deep down isn't though then it is without a doubt his darling. Whilst he will never truly be the man standing on the morally high ground at the very least he wishes to uphold that image whilst he is with you. He values the love existing between the two of you deeply, his one firm pillar in between so many other shaky bridges that he still attempts to rebuild and keep with his siblings. No words could ever convey how deep his appreciation and his love for you goes for the sense of peace and calmness that you provide in his life yet still Elijah does what he can do to give back as much as possible for everything he receives simply by having you by his side.

✞There is no shortage of presents, trips and luxury in a relationship with him. Elijah truly embraces a romantic spirit now that he has you all to always let you know just how much you truly mean to him. Bouquets of red roses, letters expressing the thoughts and feelings he may not be able to convey spontanously as he crafts each sentence carefully and special dates when the circumstances have forced him away from you for more than a few days. It never feels like excessive spoiling though as each gift and each date has a thought behind it that goes beyond the simple luxury and price of it. With you Elijah is always the thoughtful gentleman he believes that you deserve, each action and confession crafted to the closest perfection that he can reach. That never means though that all violence has simply disappeared. It's hidden away from your gaze, the ruthless side Elijah doesn't wish you to see. Perhaps he aspires to be better for you, an act of mercy for all those who threaten you or the relationship as they receive one chance to turn around and to never return. Bloodshed has never been his signature yet should a fool choose to be a fool it cannot be helped.

Niklaus Mikaelson

♕Klaus is something and that can be interpreted in a good or in a bad way which applies both to him. His love is intense and coupled with so many thoughts and feelings that he has a hard tome controlling it all. There's a lot to unravel but the deeper you dig, the more Klaus becomes undone in front of your very eyes which only heightens all his emotions in return. Paranoia, abandonment issues, a sharp fear to forever be alone and a love that burns so intensely that it threatens to not only hurt the both of you but everyone around. Once such obsession has taken a hold of Klaus he is determined to never let you leave his grasp yet he is so used to being left that his hands clutching your life so tightly threaten to shatter it. So many things could go wrong and many things will go wrong as he struggles to deal with all issues and fears that have resurfaced so violently due to his feelings for you. His possessiveness runs high, his jealousy runs deep and the control he tries to force into your life runs wild. All because deep down he genuinely believes that otherwise you would never love nor accept him for the horrible person everyone hates and wants so desperately dead.

♕It's a long and difficult process to untangle the mess of feelings within him until he eases his body and mind. That isn't to say that moments of tenderness are nonexistent. An entire gallery filled with paintings of you, sketches neatly kept on his desk of your face and beautifully wrapped presents placed on your bed. Flights to Tokyo, Italy and all the places you wish to see with your own eyes and confessions of adoration and love that are so rare coming from his lips. All of it can be so easily shattered though in the face of your fear and horror all directed against him. Klaus retaliates whenever you reject him, covers his pain and vulnerability behind the rage and cruelty so many fear him for, becoming the monster you believe him to be. It's likely that he has hurt you once or twice, his feelings bursting out of him as agony and anger and leaving him drowning in the horrible feeling of guilt and a renewed fear that you will never accept him afterwards. Niklaus kills easily. He has left hills of dead bodies behind him throughout his long life already and now with his obsession for you in play new corpses start littering his path all to preserve you for himself.

Kol Mikaelson

🂱Kol is a true wild card as his actions are unpredictable and all guided by his own hedonism. By all means, he actually knows that his feelings are quite disturbing together with all the things he does as a result of it but he doesn't seem to feel an ounce of guilt. It's much the opposite instead as Kol actively revels in it. All the emotions coursing through his veins make him feel very alive to the point where he almost feels drunk on ecstasy and he decides to completely indulge in everything that this obsession has to offer. Known for loving the games though, Kol has a quite wicked way of treating you, the unfortunate victim of his obsession. His approach is quite two-faced as he wastes no time to get to know you during the day and present himself as someone quite cocky yet still quite charming only to haunt you at night and induce paranoia within you. He doesn't feel guilty though instead he finds it quite cute to see the visible effects his stalking has on you as you flinch at every noise, always turn your head over your shoulder as if afraid that someone is following you and start growing more unfocused as a result of the lack of sleep. So he will continue until you break.

🂱There is a different side that often reveals itself to you too, one far more enjoyable than the mindgames he so often puts you through. As he is neither as uptight nor as paranoid as his other siblings, Kol expresses his love much like the adventurous spirit that he has within him. Often he spontaneously whisks you away whenever he's in the mood, no matter what time of day it is. Kisses out of the blue, unpredictable and playful accompanied by some very corny pickup-lines that he has either come up with himself or has heard somewhere and cuteness aggression too. There's nothing that Kol really bothers to hide from you as he is the one who is the most open with his emotions, be it the good ones or the bad ones. Instead he basks in it all freely as he even indulges in the violent urges that arise when someone gets on his nerves. It's genuinely gruesome and evil though how he plays with his victims. He's taunting, he's tormenting and he likes to dangle a piece of hope in front of their noses and watch them running like frightened bunnies only to snatch it away right in front of their faces and enjoy the sheer look of horror and hopelessness.

Rebekah Mikaelson

❀Rebekah loves blindly and recklessly which spells a disaster in the making as her obsession quickly consumes her. She has been hurt far too many times over the centuries and every time she was betrayed by someone that she loved. It's understandable that she wishes to be wary yet deep down she is very much like Klaus in the way that she longs for someone to love her unconditionally and for someone who will always choose her no matter what. She fears being backstabbed by even you and it doesn't even matter how long the two of you have known each other at that point. All of those fears and insecurities combined result in this awful mixture of possessiveness, pushiness and control that can and will be overwhelming very quickly for you. Rebekah seems to have you under constant surveillance as if she is just waiting for the moment where she catches you cheating on her or plotting to have her put back in the coffin again. For that reason she even compels the people around her all to always know what you are up to and to always have someone watching over you and report back to her. She wants to trust, she really does, but she doesn't know how to do that after everything that has happened.

❀Still she is a girl who wishes to be happily in love and that shows in the way that she treats the relationship. In general the two of you are always together and seen as a pair with matching outfits and matching jewelry all chosen by her. Frequent dates, constant hand-holding and excessive mails and calls when she isn't with you at the moment. Rebekah wants her own happy lovestory and she wants it with you which is why she works so very hard to ensure that everything is exactly how she has always wished it be be. However, she has an extremely bad temper and that becomes apparent very quickly as you watch her. Her jealousy threatens to consume her on a daily base the moment you pay attention to someone else that isn't her and she gets spiteful and mean very quickly as that horrible feeling within her stomach wriggles around until she feels nauseous. She lashes out and she does so quickly as her emotions tend to get the better of her and in her rage even you will not be spared from her bitterness. It's that horrible temper of hers which makes her prone to hurt, torture and murder people she sees as threats to the happy ending she so sorely deserves.

[httpskuzuu]

BSD with pets

idk what I did

Fyodor x Reader / Akutagawa x Reader / Nikolai x Reader

I don't speak english, let me cry

summary: cute things about bsd characters and animals, idk

tw: nikolai is kinda oc (it's the first time I write about him, mercy), angst¿ at the nikolai part

Fyodor Dostoyevski

“Fedya.” You called as you knelt down to look under the couches. “Fedya!” you began to despair, you had already searched all over the house and still couldn't find your pet rat. Now, don't ask me how you convinced Fyodor to adopt a rat and give him his nickname, I don't know.

You had looked in every room but one.

You slowly walked through the house until you reached the place where Fyodor was always working. You knew he was there at that moment, you heard from outside the faint sound of keys being pressed, so you were justified in your nervousness, you didn't want to disturb Fyodor.

Anyway, you knocked on the door and stood tensely, waiting until a male voice said, “You can come in.”

“Fyodor, Fedya is lost, I can't find him.” You said the second you opened the door, while looking at him with a sad expression. It had been months since you had adopted the rat and you were already indescribably fond of him, instead Fyodor stayed more distant from him ( maybe because of the chosen name).

He turned to look at you as soon as you finished speaking, to see your expectant face for some answer or help. Expressionless, he removed his white ushanka revealing your beloved lost pet underneath.

“Fedya!” you yelled as you approached with your eyes full of life again. You held the rat between your hands carefully and hugged it. Laughter inevitably came out of your mouth. “What was it doing under your hat?”

“It climbed up me and got underneath.”

“And you left him there?” your smile widened as Fyodor nodded at your question. “I thought you didn't like him.”

“When did I say that?”

“It's just that you never take any notice of him.” You pouted to which the man couldn't help but smile.

“I don't like the name.” He quickly corrected along with a sigh, to which you could only laugh. “He's fine, doesn't bother.”

“I'm glad.” Gently, not wanting to disturb Fyodor or Fedya, you placed the rat back on his head, which curled up comfortably as Fyodor looked at you quizzically. “I think he'll be more comfortable there.”

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa

Your feet hurt as you took out the key to the apartment where you currently lived with your boyfriend. It was a long day of work, although you could quit and be unemployed without any problems, as Akutagawa can provide for you without any problems, you still wanted to have your own money and not be entirely dependent.

You walked in to find the place with all the lights off, you guessed your boyfriend was still out, not unusual considering his job at the Port Mafia. The weird thing was not finding Rashōmon, your cat.

You entered the room shared by both of them and there you saw one of the cutest scenes Akutagawa could be involved in. On the bed, Aku was deeply asleep, breathing peacefully as was Rashōmon, who lay on his stomach in a ball, with the man's hand on his back.

The latter wiggled its ears at the sound of your laughter stifled by your hands, not wanting to wake anyone. Despite your efforts, your pet opened its eyes, which stood out in the darkness. It seemed as if his eyes came out of nowhere, as his black fur was indistinguishable in the dull light.

You quietly approached him and petted his head, making him purr.

You changed your clothes to a much more comfortable one, still trying to keep the quietness of the place. You knew Ryūnosuke should be tired, so you didn't want to wake him up.

Carefully, you lay down next to him, covering them both with the soft sheets. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, while petting the cat with one of your hands.

With the mix of these calming sounds and the whole moment, you couldn't resist falling asleep.

Nikolai Gogol

You think it was a bad idea, adopting a white dove and calling it Kolya sounded funny at first, and Nikolai seemed to have no problem, but over time his behavior changed.

You don't quite understand, you don't know what goes through his head when he just stares at the dove in his cage. You had seen his emotions, those that he takes so much care that they cease to matter to reach freedom, but still you don't know what to do and you can't help but feel immense guilt.

One day you sit next to him, so that both of you can look at the animal for the desired amount of time.

“Do you want to release it?”

“It would surely die, and if it didn't, it would go home because it's not used to and doesn't want freedom.” Despite his somewhat subdued tone of voice, he has a smile on his face. You decide not to press him about it, after all it's only a matter of time and trust that he will tell you about how he feels, you just need to be as understanding with him as possible.

“Oh.” Silence once again imprints itself in the room, until after a couple of minutes you speak again. “And isn't there a way to teach him to be free?”

“Then he wouldn't be truly free. He would act as quoted, not on his own like free-ranging doves.”

“Mmmh, right.” Guilt still fills you, it's obvious you shouldn't have adopted the bird, a dog would have been much better. "But still, I think it's better that it's locked up in there. It wouldn't be free at all, but it would be close, don't you think?”

“Yes, I suppose that's better than nothing.”

Your hands gently intertwine and you drop your head on her shoulder. You'd be here long enough to comfort Nikolai.

I think you can tell which is my favorite

[vroomvroomwee]

There's plenty of radiostatic tropes of these two batshit insane sadomasochistic psychopaths torturing each other for fun, but I would die for a fanfic where Vox is down bad for Alastor and is purposefully trying to appeal to Alastor's bloodlust because he thinks that's what he would be interested in - and besides Vox is definitely going to enjoy it either way, except Alastor never once shows any willingness to torture him and it drives Vox absolutely bonkers.

Imagine Vox, head over heels for a cannibal serial killer, very deeply besotted with him as he tries to play into his sadism because he thinks that's what Alastor would like, because he thinks that's the shit that he would be into during sex, but Alastor is torturing everyone BUT Vox. So, Vox starts to annoy him, to needle him, to poke and prod to intentionally rile Alastor's ire in the hope that he gets Alastor's attention. Except Alastor never becomes violent with him, no matter how aggravating Vox becomes. He gets irritated, yes, even fuming at times, but he never gets violent.

Like we've seen how Alastor acts with people he cares about, how careful he is with them, and dare I say, even gentle. We know how his attitude towards people he loves differentiates to his attitude towards people he detests. And we know his opinion on inflicting violence on a loved one and how despicable it is. And I'm just imagining Vox being completely clueless as to why Alastor doesn't want to hurt him because he has no idea that the approach he's taking to seduce Alastor is as far from accurate as it could get. Because he grossly underestimates how much Alastor cares about him. He has no idea that Alastor's disinclination to match his "romantic" proposals isn't due to disinterest, but due to too much fondness.

So, I'm just picturing Vox confronting Alastor about this, about how Alastor thinks so lowly of him that even broadcasting Vox's screams isn't worth his time. And Alastor is dumbfounded. He simply stares at Vox, wordless. Then, he feels something boiling in him, something caustic, something wounded at the fact that Vox not only thinks him so shallow and brutish, but that he wants Alastor’s violence. He agrees to give Vox what he wants because the opposite is to admit he doesn't care about Vox at all, which would be the last option in Alastor’s mind. He doesn't necessarily participate himself, but his attitude, force, scornful words, and powers give Vox the satisfaction he craves from him. He hurts him, he humiliates him, he fucks him, and he hates every second of it and he doesn't know how to feel about the fact that Vox enjoys all of it. His distaste is plain, from his stiff, crumpled expression, from his tense lour, from his reclined body language.

And Vox notices.

He notices and his entire perception of this fearsome, terrifying Overlord warps before his very eyes. It's Vox who ultimately stops it, despite having longed for Alastor’s cruelty and attention for so long because he doesn't want it this way. He doesn't want it if Alastor doesn't. He would never forget the scalding stone that drops in his stomach at the image of Alastor’s expression slumping in relief when Vox asks him to stop. He can feel his own face falling in dismay as the quiet around them infuses the taut air. He can viscerally feel Alastor’s plight and the reality of what he had accused him of and later weaponized his quilt to fulfil his own fantasies congeals the very blood in his veins. No words come to his mind, no questions that he doesn't know the answer to grace his tongue. He finally understands. He finally realizes how Alastor sees him. So what does he do next?

He shuffles closer to Alastor and slowly, carefully wraps him in an embrace. Blood is dripping down his form. His body is flushed and heated, but Alastor doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, after a few painfully tense seconds, Alastor returns the embrace with equal guilt weighing him down. Vox doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. The feeling of Alastor’s rigid muscles, the slight trembling in his fingers, and the quick, shallow breaths tell him everything he needs to know about the demon's current state.

"I'm sorry..." tumbles out of his lips, shy and shaky, his voice hoarse from screaming. He's apologetic, he's regretful, he's almost livid at his own inconsideration and blindness.

Alastor clutches him tighter as he reassures "I believe I'm the one who should be apologising."

Vox shakes his head, his thumbs kneading gentle circles in Alastor’s back. "No. I asked you to do this. I asked you because I thought it was something we both wanted."

"I know," Alastor whispers, and his tone is almost rueful. "But, it's not. It's not something I ever want to do... to you."

This is the moment when Vox's entire world flips. That last, deafening word spoken from Alastor with such care and devotion sends a wave of realisation so tumultuous it crashes into every withered inch of his fraying conscience. A wave of realisation that Alastor didn't indulge himself by hurting Vox because he thought him inferior, but because he thought so highly of him no sinner or Overlord that had succumbed to his violence could ever reach.

Something settles in Vox. A thorny, unforgiving forest giving way to gentle sunbeams filtering through newly revitalised treetops. He tightens his hold, his shattered screen burying in the crook of Alastor’s neck. The feel of Alastor’s smooth coat underneath his bare, bloodied body causes him to buzz like a swarm of bees under his skin. The vulnerability of the moment, shrouded behind a veil of sorrow, hurt, grief, affection, care, and love is more delightful than he could have ever imagined.

Alastor’s soft, warm breath tickles Vox's neck as he exhales. The silence wasn't the pervasive, uncomfortable one from before, but rather a soothing, soporific cadence unable to be heard by human ears.

Vox's eyes droop lower when he feels Alastor suddenly, softly brush his lips against his neck. A pleased moan escapes him as the demon begins to lay gentle kisses in a small, irresistible trail on his skin.

He wordlessly tilts his head, allowing Alastor better access. Alastor obliges, shifting their positions to better accommodate them. He gently nips at the flesh, his teeth occasionally grazing and biting, his lips kissing and sucking with reverential eagerness. After a while, Vox's neck tingles like warm needles, and he feels his arousal growing again.

Alastor’s arms stroke Vox's sides, the motion absentminded, as though he was drinking in every inch of contact. Vox lifts his hand and tenderly cups the back of Alastor’s head with it, encouraging him.

Alastor’s breath skittles over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The demon briefly tightens his hold as he finally raises his head. He doesn't look at Vox, his eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling deeply. Vox's hand slides to cradle Alastor’s face, his own gaze equally as plaintive, and he feels the bed nearly swallow him whole when Alastor slumps into his hold.

Their foreheads touch, their bodies naturally intertwine. An exhilarated gasp shudders out of Vox, his own mind having difficulty comprehending the delightful reality he is currently living. His body moves on its own accord and he places a gentle yet riveting kiss on Alastor's temple.

"Oh, baby..." he presses their foreheads together again and closes his eyes. "Is this what you want?" he asks softly.

Alastor nods imperceptibly.

...

Then they proceed to have gentle loving sex and I'm gonna stop right here because I have no idea what happened shsgsh. I initially started off writing my one-paragraph idea of crazy Alastor who loves torturing others but would rather bash his head in than hurt the people that actually matter to him and manipulative self-obsessed horny in love Vox has to learn that the hard way before it spiralled into old man fluffy foreplay lmfaooooo

I love toxic, manipulative, evil radiostatic as much as the next person, but soft and tender radiostatic has a special place in my heart.