#go back to that place. he feels like a complete failure right now.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.

That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.

If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.

(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )

The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.

And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.

The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.

They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.

Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.

The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.

he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.

I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.

Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.

Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.

Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.

But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.

So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.

It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.

And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.

I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!

[blushy-tigerrr]

vent in tags sorry

cw: mention of loss

[leighsartworks216]

Kiss-Proof

Sylus x implied fem!Reader

Inspired by this fic by @peachlynnie

Also inspired by an Archie comic lol

Warnings: fluff, kissing, established relationship, lipstick, implied sexual content at the end

Word Count: 948

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (fill this out to be tagged in future fics)

How he got roped into this situation, he has no idea. Not that he's complaining. What could be better than his partner straddling his lap, kissing him over and over again?

You plant a kiss at a bare spot on his cheek without ceremony. You pull away, hopeful, only to deflate when the vibrant imprint of your lips are left behind. "Ugh, this one transfers, too." The tube of lipstick is tossed off to the side with the other failures.

Sylus grabs the makeup wipe from the previous attempts (almost completely covered in various shades of pink and red). His hand holds your jaw warmly, thumb on your chin, as his other thumb brushes the wipe over your lips.

He could suggest taking you shopping to the high end stores that would most certainly have lipstick proven not to smudge or transfer, but then you'd have to get up and stop testing it. His lips still have some red staining them, and his cheeks, neck and forehead are almost completely covered. He'd hate to stop now.

"How many more do you have to test?" he asks.

You shift in his lap, forcing him to stop his ministrations in favor of holding your hip to support you. You grab another lipstick tube from a pile andshift the remaining ones around. "Like, five more? At least one of these has to work."

He shifts his legs, settling you back into place, and draws your attention back to him so he can wipe away the last smidge of tint at the corners of your mouth. "If none of these work, I'll buy you some more," he promises. He nods slightly as he sets the wipe aside. "Go ahead, try this one."

You use a little compact mirror to help you get the shade on right. It's a warm red, bloody and tempting. It’s the same shade as his eyes after a couple glasses of Gin Fizz, when he looks at you with unbridled affection, enhanced with his slight intoxication.

Sylus would be the first to admit how much he loves watching this. He loves the comfort you have to propose this silly idea, to crawl into his lap with a bag of lipsticks and makeup wipes and the intensity of an executive making a pitch to a board room. He loves getting to watch the concentration on your face as you glide the applicator over your top lip, following the natural line to ensure it's perfect. Loves the mild frustration when you mess up the corner. Loves that you trust him to fix it with the wipe wrapped over his thumb nail. Loves the quiet thanks you mutter before you get back to work.

Fully applied, you hum impatiently as you turn the tube over to read the directions. "'Wait two minutes.' Damn."

"The best results take time," Sylus teases.

You shoot him a half-hearted glare. "Fine. What should we talk about for two minutes?"

He hums as he taps a finger on your hip. "I don't think I ever asked: Why are you so eager to find a lipstick that doesn't transfer?"

"Well," you wipe your thumb along his lip, dragging the lingering color with it, "it's embarrassing to drink from a glass and leave a big smudge behind."

He chuckles. "That's what's got you so worried, sweetie?"

You trace the rouge up to his prominent cupid's bow. "Mm, not completely." You wonder what he'd look like with lipstick on him properly. You're sure he'd look amazing. Hell, even like this, covered with all your kisses, he looks good. You're damn near convinced he can pull any look off.

He squeezes your sides. "Tell me," he implores, voice soft and tender.

You sigh. "When we go to auctions, I feel like I can't kiss you," you admit quietly. "Everyone there is so... imposing. I don't want to, well, do this to you," you gesture at all the lipstick stains, "and ruin your reputation."

"Sweetie." He cups your cheek in his large hand. It holds you perfectly, always. You lean into it without a second thought. He smiles. "My reputation isn't that fragile. Besides..."

His voice gets lower as he draws you in. You could get high on the way his eyes flicker to your mouth. His nose brushes yours, hot breath shared in the centimeters of space left between you.

"How else will they know who I belong to?"

Your breath hitches. His mouth is on yours, seeking, claiming, drawing you deeper into him. You feel the creamy texture of smudged lipstick as you hold his face, slide your fingers along his neck into his hair. It streaks along his perfect skin.

His tongue licks the seam of your lips, begs for entrance. You tug at his hair as you let him in. He groans into your mouth, sighs a wanton rendition of your name. Your shirt slips up your waist as he dives a hand below the fabric to press against your bare skin.

You pull away sharply. "The lipstick!"

His eyes look murderous for being disturbed, by you of all people. Still, he contains himself enough not to dive right back in. Just barely. What he can’t contain is the furrow in his brow and the frown he wears.

You ignore the smudges of color on his skin, matching stains on your hands, as you tilt his head up to better look at his lips. They're still stained with that light red from before, but-

"Sy! It worked! This one didn't smudge!"

"Perfect." He pulls you roughly back down to him, biting your colored lip before licking it sinfully. "Let's take it for a test run, shall we?"

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy

[sanakiras]

TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE

PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.

TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort

NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!

the moment he calls out a greeting to you from his kitchen, you close your eyes for a moment. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.

you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.

you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”

the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.

“everything okay?”

“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.

he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.

“baby, talk to me.”

“about what?”

the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.

you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.

of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.

you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”

“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the lump in your throat begins to rise.

“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”

you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.

it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.

it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.

then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.

the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.

“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”

he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.

“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”

he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don’t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”

the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.

“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”

once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”

he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.

with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”

“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.

“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”

“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”

deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.

you don’t really understand why.

“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”

now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”

“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”

you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”

to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime. i’m here for you.”

even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.

do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[lowkeyrobin]

UMBRELLA! BEN ; a million timelines

summary ; you'll always end up with one certain face in every universe and timeline

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; ben isn't dead, umbrella! ben in fact bc I love that dork sm, viktor is already transitioned the whole way through, random word vomit

track ; not a lot, just forever, adrianne lenker

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

It seemed in every timeline, you'd be semy straight back to Ben's side.

You were intertwined, sewn together, in fact.

In 2019, you were reunited with him after Sir Reginald Hargreeves' death. You hadn't seen each other since you were kids, it'd been years.

You didn't have any special powers like the Hargreeves' did, you were just their normal friend who lived next door above the laundromat. You came back to town for other reasons, but when you heard the news, you had to go see them.

Your eyes first landed on Viktor, his short hair completely different from his old, long, luscious locks. You immediately smiled, wrapping him in a solemn hug, congratulating him yet showing remorse and compassion over his dad's timely demise.

You went through the rest of the siblings, other than Five, as he'd gone missing all those years ago.

Then up came Ben.

You could feel the soft look on his face as he looked at you, finally being reunited after all this time. He was by far your favorite of the academy, holding a special spot in your heart.

It wasn't just that his cool tentacle shit that drew you to him. He was a total dork, and you adored it. He always found a way to make you smile, he noticed the smallest of things, he was so sweet and compassionate. He could light up a room like a flashlight in the dark.

He wrapped you in a hug, spinning you around in joy.

"Oh my God, Y/n!"

"Ben!"

Your smiles were unmatched, the other siblings watching with little smiles, nostalgia crashing against their mental shores. They loved you too, but they also loved seeing their two favorite people together again.

"God, why are you here?"

"Came back for some stuff, but also for you guys. Sorry about your dad"

"It was coming-"

"He was murdered"

"Luther!"

You softly chuckle, hiding your face in his shoulder, enjoying the sweet dopamine rush infecting your brain.

You were stuck to Ben by the hip, almost literally, as you landed on cold, wet concrete on April 28th, 1960. You share a panicked look, calling for any of the other Hargreeves' before eventually giving in to failure.

At least you still had each other.

You spent the next three years thinking the others were dead and that you were permanently trapped in the sixties. You worked in a bar, and he worked right beside you. You both didn't understand that without degrees, you were hired, but it was much better than nothing.

Then you were reunited with Klaus, then Five, then the others.

But of course, some weird fuck up in the space time continuum forced the world to attempt to kill itself, again.

And once again, you stood behind Ben as he unleashed the tentacles from his internal organs to protect you and his family.

Good God, what did you do to get wrapped up in all this?

That lead you all astray again back in 2019, thankfully, but some other superpowered people had taken the Umbrella Academy's place. The Sparrow Academy.

But once again, you were right by Ben's side.

You were at his side during the first Kugelblitz, travelling with Five and Klaus to meet Klaus' already deceased mom, and at the end-of-the-world wedding between Luther and Sloane.

You now sit at the bar at the Hotel Obisidian, sipping on mocktails as you watch Luther and Sloane break it down on the dance floor. A tune calls your name, screaming for you and Ben to jump out there.

Just Like Heaven by The Cure.

"Oh my God, we loved The Cure when we were little!" You giggle, only a buzz directing the slight slur in your words.

Ben smiles, "We did"

"Come on" You quickly set your glass down on the counter, looking over at Ben, who hasn't moved, giving you a raised eyebrow. "C'mon, Ben"

He looks over at Five who rolls his eyes, sipping on some sort of champagne. Ben gives into your pleads, setting his glass down to go with you.

You join Luther and Sloane, and Klaus and Viktor, on the dance floor, allowing the song to consume you inside out. You jump about, singing along to the lyrics as you hold each other's hands.

Colorful lights splash upon your faces, blinding you for milliseconds as they pass you by.

Five, now accompanied by Diego and Lila, watches you two from afar. He lightly smiles, enjoying the smiles on your faces as you await to be disintegrated into dust as the world crumbles around you.

"Even in every jump across the space time continuum and in every alternate timeline that will somehow find a way to end, they're always at the end together" Five observes, glancing over at the couple, elbows rested against the bar behind him.

Lila gives him a cringed look, not understanding a word of the gibberish he'd just spoken. Diego sighs and shakes his head, taking a bite out of a bologna sandwich he made for himself.

"It's cute," Five clarifies.

"Why don't you get out there?" Diego asks Five, "The world is about to end. Enjoy it, Ebenezer Scrooge McDuck"

Five chuckles. "Yeah, let me go enjoy the world fading into dust at every touch." He sets his glass down on the bar, deciding to go join the enthusiastic group of mentally dead Hargreeves' plus you.

You and Ben, even as the song switches, continue to dance together, creating a little circle with Klaus and Viktor so Sloane and Luther could have their little alone time. Eventually, the whole family is on the dance floor, enjoying their final hours on Earth.

After a while, you crash on the floor beneath the couch, mindlessly listening to Luther, Five, Diego, Klaus, and Viktor drunkenly sing along to Seal's Kiss From A Rose. Allison, Sloane, and Lila enjoy the show, singing along from the couch.

Five, noticing you two were slumped over, half dead, calls out to you. "Hey, lovebirds! Get up here!"

You and Ben immediately look down toward each other, your feet touching one another's, giggling like little kids as you realize what Five had called you. You crawl up to your hands and knees, then rise to your feet, joining the brothers up on the little karaoke stage.

"Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey!"

It was true, in the end of each timeline, in each version of the world ending, you and Ben would end up side by side. Nothing, not even theories and paradoxes, and jumps across the fabric of the universe could separate you.

[shotmrmiller]

absolutely not a smoker but

imagine stepping out of that rowdy pub you tend to visit with your friends. The chilly evening air cooling your overheated skin.

The place can get a little too lively, sometimes you have to step out to take a breather. Or a smoke break, like in this instance.

Placing the lit cigarette in the corner of your mouth, you lean back against the brick wall of the establishment, feeling the cold seep through your jacket. Tipping your head back, you gaze at the night sky; shimmering specks of light scattered across the deep darkness, with the full moon gently illuminating the surroundings.

And then the pub doors squeal as they swing open, but you keep your eyes up and away.

Gravel crunches under the person's feet as they walk. Only for those footsteps to get closer to you.

God fucking damnit. You don't want to talk to anyone right now- your social battery is currently charging.

Exhaling softly, you close your eyes and open them as you turn to look at whoever is approaching and... the cigarette almost slips from your fingers from the fright.

A man that's a head taller than most, shoulders too broad, chest like a barrel. His thigh was the size of both of yours pressed together. He wore all black- the leather jacket creased around where the sleeves and where the elbow crooks. Well-worn but still in good condition.

But what almost sent your heart into failure was the skull balaclava mask he wore over his face.

Fucking hell, why is he staring at you like that?

Tapping the smoke with your pointer, you place it back in your mouth and pull the sides of your open jacket over your midsection, crossing your arms after.

"Can I help you?"

His response is immediate. "Bum a cig off ya?" he asks, a mancunian accent heavy on his tongue.

Shrugging to yourself, you shake the box and offer him the one, which he takes without even a thank you.

Ingrate.

"Got a match?"

Wordlessly, the lighter clicks once and a weak flame comes out of it. Only to get snuffed by the crisp breeze. Your thumb rotates the spark wheel once again, but this time you cup your hand around the pathetic little fire.

It holds long enough, so you watch him pull the mask up just enough to put the smoke in between his thin, chapped lips and lean forward to the lighter in your hands.

A warm puff of air extinguishes the flame.

His dark eyes cut to you- dark, nondescript. You flick the tip of your cigarette with your tongue in frustration.

Then his gaze wanders to the dim, orange glow on the other end. "Bum the light, then."

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline but otherwise do as he says- rising to the tiptoes, and draw in a steady breath, the burning end flaring.

His face gets too close to what anyone would deem appropriate, getting a real good view of his unfairly long, wispy ash-brown lashes that framed his eyes.

The furl of smoke begins to rise, stinging your nose, and he finally straightens, the lit cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

The silence after is comfortable, just two complete and utter strangers having a smoke.

Tossing the filter to the ground, you step on it and crush it with your heel as exhale the remnants of it. A small wave his way and you head back inside.

If you'd paid any sort of attention, you would've noticed that the smoke that came out of his mouth was too thick, concentrated. As if it just sat there, instead of going through his lungs.

He gives it 3 more minutes before putting out his own, nearly full cig under his boot and following right behind you.

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

When Harrow is very obviously grieving, (and also when he wants to gaslight her) John tells her to make soup about it, to focus on the little things, to take it day by day. When asked to help with the lobotomy, Ianthe tells Harrow that the worst is over- she's a lyctor now, and she should try and move forward instead of sticking herself permanently in limbo. These are not terrible pieces of advice to give a grieving person; if actually practiced, they might even be helpful. Except for Harrow, they are the absolute worst things you could possibly say.

None of what happened to her should have happened, of course she doesn't want to accept it and progress further into lyctorhood. Everything is terrifying and new to her, of course she won't find peace in "the little things". John is actively trying to fucking KILL HER, of course SOUP isn't going to help! Like obviously the general grief advice isn't gonna work for Harrow because she's in a psychological horror book and is being haunted and is grieving jesus christ herself, but also, does it really work that well ever? Does being told to move on actually ever in any circumstance help the person move on? Or does it just make them feel more broken, more inadequate, more lonely?

Sure, focusing on little things that give you joy and trying not to ruminate on the past are on paper productive ways to cope, but its also the LAST thing a grieving person actually wants to do. Telling someone to simply forget about what they went through and who they lost, to just focus on the boring and isolating minutae of everyday life instead of the world-ending tragedy they've experienced feels impossible. To do it would be like betraying yourself, and the people you lost.

Most of the book is Harrow knowing that certain things would probably make her feel better if she would just try, being told constantly that if she would just do x y or z, things would fall into place and she would be less broken. She doesn't even remember WHY she feels like this, but she does, and it's all-consuming. Lyctorhood is the scale by which her "normality" is measured, and she is failing SPECTACULARLY. She refuses to set aside Gideon's humanity and significance in her life to use her as a battery, and that makes her weak and a failure in the eyes of the other saints.

But by failing to move on, she ends up actually preserving (??? who actually knows man) Gideon's life. For the classic grief advice to not only be unhelpful to her personally also ACTIVELY MALICIOUS/ HARMFUL PLOT WISE is such a great 180 to me. Instead of a "grieving character comes to terms with loved one's death for the Greater Good and moves on because its the Right Thing To Do" narrative, we get a kind of bereavement revenge fantasy. Harrow's complete refusal to move on stops Gideon from actually fully dying. And she does makes soup, not to cope with the constant terror she's living under, but to EXPLODE her tormentor from the inside out. These things probably aren't "good" for Harrow, or for anyone dealing with grief. They do not make life easier for her, and they do not make her a lyctor, but they are honest and they are SO satisfying. Having the power to bring back the person you lost, even at great personal detriment and to explode everyone who hurt you with your mind is i think the perfect power for someone in mourning and i love that htn let Harrow have it. There is no greater good to be served, no larger moral about loss to be told. The objective is not to see Harrow heal from loss, it's to see her by sheer determination and force of will, refuse to fucking lose.

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Gym Buddy⭐️

Premise: You made a new friend at the gym, and he is determined to make sure you get a good pump.

Warning: Non-con, fem reader

Minors DNI

Working out with you is almost too much. You're cute, smaller body is too much. The way you look up at him and thank him when he takes the weight off you when you push your body to failure. The way you whimper when you can't do one more rep. He first saw you looking at a machine for biceps and you seemed ok, but your form could be a bit better so he decided he'd help you by correcting it.

The next time he saw you, you were trying a bicep workout, but you were lifting too heavy and it was messing up your form. Proper form is essential to any excersize and without it, you could risk pulling a muscle. He couldnt just stand by and let you do that so he became your gym buddy whenever he spotted you.

You always look so nervous when he talks to you. You can't even maintain eye contact, but when you do, you look up at him and smile sheepishly. It warms his heart. You thanked him for helping you with your workout and walked on your mary way.

He smiled and continued on with his until he saw you patiently waiting for him to finish his set from the corner of his eye. You're blushing all cute and averting eyes again. He takes out his earbud and looks over at you. "I-I feel like I didn't properly thank you before so thank you again. I really appreciate your help," You say, becoming cherry red by the end.

He wants to just pick you up and take you home. You're like a cute little bunny. He's a respectful guy so he's only ever looked at your body in the places he needs to for your form, but he'd be lying if he said they never drifted to other places. From your sweet-looking neck to the curve of your back, all the way down to your cute butt.

The way your workout clothes fit your body so tight in all the right places. He wonders if you want the attention. When you wear crop tops...or when he's lucky and you wear your super short shorts. The ones that barely cover your...He shakes his head. He can't get hard in the gym again. "No problem. You're very polite, you know," He says. You knod your head in thanks.

You scamper off to go do cute girl things, probably. He hopes you don't have a boyfriend. Actually, theres no way you do. No man would let a girl like you out of their site. Especially in a testosterone filled gym. And talk to other guys? No way. If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be fighting him right now.

If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be laying on the ground, broken and defeated, bleeding from every orifice. He clenches his fists, his veins protruding. He'd lay the bastard the fuck out without a second of hesitation. No mercy and no reasoning. He finishes his workout with more vigour than usual.

The next time he spotted you at the gym, he saw some guy about to walk up to you. They're like fucking flies. This is the third one this week. He speeds up his pace and gets to you first before the fly could get its chance. The other guy turns tail immediately, confusing you because it looked like he'd wanted to talk to you.

"Hey, nice to see you again," he says, smiling that usual charming smile. 'The ladies probably go nuts for this guy,' you thought. "Nice to see you too!" Your voice is so sweet. It's like honey. He's memorized the texture of your sound. "Your arms look really good," you say, your face completely red. That came out of nowhere. He wonders how long you've been working up the courage to say that to him. He chuckles and flexes. "Thank you, I'm very proud of them."

He swears he could eat you up. Just the way you look at his body, whether it be in admiration or otherwise, it's all the same to him. "Do you want to get protein shakes after this? I can make them really tasty." You're going. Whether you like it or not.

"Oh..uhm, you don't have to! I don't know much bout protein anyway," you say nervously. Bingo. "Protein is incredibly important for helping you repair your muscles after you work hard at the gym!" He knows he's gonna convince you.

"O-oh, really? I didn't know that. If it's that important, ok then." You look off to the side, unsure about going to a mans house. He's feeling cuteness aggression. He wants to hug you and squeeze you so badly. His hands twitch, fighting the urdge to do so. He has to look away when you're doing a tough workout.

Watching sweat drip down your face is captivating. He imagines that face when he's alone in his apartment at night, his cock in hand. He just wants to lay you down on your back with him in between your legs...his thoughts wander too much. "Great, you'll love it!" He could'nt be more pleased with himself.

After you both finished, he waits for you outside the changing room. He was so giddy. He loves looking down at you..and seeing your cute little wonderous eyes looking up at him, like a confused little bunny. He takes your hand and leads you out to his car. You blush furiously at the contact. You get in the passenger seat and he drives you back to his place.

It's a really nice and expensive looking apartment building. Modern and well kept. It even has a gym inside. You wonder why he travels to yours. He takes you up to his apartment and you gasp. "It's so big!" He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining those words in a different context. "I'm excited to try the protein shake," you say, snapping him out of his fuzzy daze.

"Ah yes." He takes you over to his spottless kitchen and takes out a blender, some bananas, protein powder, peanut butter and milk. You lean over the counter to peer at what he's doing. Hes really good at making protein shakes. You wonder if he can cook aswell. You wouldn't be surprised. While you're lost in though, he has the perfect view of your cleavage. He bites his lip. Fuck. He feels his dick twitch to life.

He groans. He's been trying not to get hard this whole day. Good thing you're behind the counter. He pours the smoothies into two cups, his being larger because you dont need as much protein as he does. He manages to hide is boner well enough to make his way over to his living room with your cups.

He hands you yours after taking a seat, making sure to place a pillow in his lap. You take a sip. He loves the way your mouth opens and the way you lick your lips of the sweet drink. Fuck. He downs his and watches you. "Hey, so I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to hang out..outside the gym again sometime?" he asks, looking hopeful.

"Oh..uh," you thought he wasn't interested in you! You were sure of it! He's too handsome for you! He's way out of your league. You've never been romanticaaly interested in him. You know your place. You just get really nervous and shy around pretty people. He's an extremely athletic man and you're a snail in comparrison! You're not even looking for a relationship right now! This is a nightmare! You just wanted to focus on yourself. That's why you started going to the gym.

Oh god, what do you do!? You stare at your drink for a while, the silence thickening by the second. "I...uh...." You want to go home and hide under your sheets. How will you ever face him again? It's over. No more gym buddy. He looks down at you, his smile and hopeful eyes fading. You... don't want him. You don't want him!? But...he's perfect for you...and you for him!

He doesn't understand why you could possibly ever not want to be with him. He wordlessly puts his cup down. You just need some convincing is all. You look up at him. He can see emotions swirling around in your eyes. He stands up to his full height, casting a shadow over you. "(Y/n),... change your mind." His tone is eerily calm.

"But...I wanna focus on.. myself-" He cuts you off. "No! I will focus on you. That's what you need. I will take care of you. I'm dedicated to you. It has to be claer by now that I want you." He takes the cup from your hands and sets it down before pulling you up by your arm and forcing you deeper into the apartment.

"Huh? What? N-no, where are we going? Stop! I wanna go home!" You cry, trying to struggle out of his grip, the grip of the arms four times the size of yours. You notice now just how big he is. Hes...massive. Taller than most men...broad shoulders, a large frame, and incredibly muscular. Your face pails. You... can't stop him. You were right to be nervous to come here!

He drags you into his room, making you sit on his bed. He doesn't open the lights, but from the moonlight shining in from the window, you can see the glinting of his hungry eyes looking down at you. His chest heaves. He feels fuzzy and lightheaded as he looks down at you...all his blood...has shot right down to his cock.

He can't think of anything but the way your thighs meet at that special crevice that he wants to explore. You're probably still sweaty from the workout... he's trembling at the thought of your soft body pressed against his toned self.

He pushes your upper body down a bit too hard and splits your legs apart, settling himself between them before leaning down. Your faces so close. You turn your face away, which just makes him get even closer to you, his nose touching your cheek, his breath fanning over you. With him in between your legs, you can feel the heat emanating from his crotch as it presses into yours. You whimper under him and he groans a bit. His cock has never been so engored before. Its unbarable.

"Please...take off your clothes...I don't want to hurt you on accident," he breathes, using all the remaining blood in his head to think straight, trying to control himself. You shake your head. "I-I can't!" Not a second after you speak, his hands grip your poor clothes and rip them to shreds like paper. He's wanted to do that to your workout clothes for a long time. They were always taunting him with the way they squeeze your ass or the way your pussy shows through the crotch area a bit when you're bent.

You suck in a breath to scream, hoping one of his neighbors would hear you, but he covers your mouth with his palm just in time, muffling your cry. "Shhh shhh... it's ok shh. I've got you," he coos, trying to calm you. Your chest heaves up and down as tears stream down your cheeks. Your face feels like its burning.

He replaces his hand with his lips and kisses you gently. You continue sobbing quietly into the kiss, not wanting any of this. He doesn't cover your mouth after he lifts his lips from yours. Hope for getting another opportunity dies within you as he stuffs your underwear into your mouth and ties it shut with the drawstring of his shorts tightly behind your head.

He kisses your cheek and stays right there for a moment, just breathing in your scent. You decide now is a good time to at least try fighting him with everything you've got. You headbutt him in the face, sending his head back a bit. He grunts in pain and looks back at you with a blaze in his eyes. A trickle of blood escapes his nose. He wipes it off with the back of his hand. He shuts his eyes for a second, trying to maintain his patience. He sighs. He's trying his hardest to be nice with you.

He places a finger on your chin, turning you to face him. When you refuse to face him and turn your head in defiance, he grips your cheeks roughly and forces you to face him. His eyes are stern. "Bunny, I don't want to hurt you." Is all he says. You dont take his threat lightly. He looks more than happy to actually hurt you. You don't believe for a second that he's being honest about not wanting to hurt you.

He lowers his shorts with his free hand, taking your silence as compliance. You see the bulge in his shorts reveal itself to be a monstrous size when free. It's..scary. It slams against your bare pussy lips. It's heavy, thick and demanding attention. It's veiny underside is burning you.

You swallow hard, trying to wiggle out from underneath it. You don't make it far trapped beneath him with nowhere to go. Your hands are free, but every time you try to do anything, he swats them away and.. after his previous threat, you don't want to know what will happen if you annoy him enough.

His hand comes down to your cunt and plays with your lower lips. He releases your face, knowing you'll behave. You writhe underneath him, pathetically kicking and pushing at his hand down there. His other hand grabs your wrist and and squeezes it and a painful grip, looking dead in your eyes as he continues to play with your cunt.

Another tear slips down your cheek. He softens his grip a bit before leaning down to kiss your tears away. Your tear-stained face, the way you whimper and your face scrunches in discomfort..is doing things to him. He's learned something new about himself just now. He wants to be inside you so bad, but he knows he'd tear you in two, even with all his precum.

Your gasp as he flicks your sensitive pearl. He can't help but chuckle. Without any warning, he slips his index finger inside your cunt and relishes in the warm wetness hugging it tightly. He just wants you wet enough to take him without too much pain. He just needs to be more patient, but... it's so hard with you making all those cute expressions.

"Pleath shtop..I..." The muffled words you were trying to produce disappear in a cloud of smoke as he curls his finger upwards into your spongy walls. Fuck. He loves when you beg him to stop. You moan so cutely. Your pussy twitches around him. He bites his lip. You're.. wet enough. It's fine, it'll fit. He can't wait anymore.

He lines his fat cock up with your cunt and slides it up and down your shimmering folds. "W-wai-" He cuts you off by sliding the head of his cock in. It's so fucking tight. He grunts and can't help but sink himself further in. He feels like he's going mad.

He bucks his hips forward, meeting resistance. Your cervix. He pushes forward still, eventually managing to bottom out, the shape of his cock making an appearance in your lower stomach. Your cunt needs to know his shape for next time. It's a good thing he stuffed your mouth because you've been screaming and crying like crazy. "I'm sorry, bunny. I didn't mean to hurt you. I got a bit ahead of myself. I'll be more gentle." He kisses your nose, his cock driving in and out slowly.

You're sopping wet now, the two of you can hear your insides gushing when he pushes in. You're so embarrassed. The pleasure is undeniable. You scratch his back as he pressed in again, his hips meeting yours snuggly. You can't hold it anymore! you let out a long whine as you cum, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He moans, driving his cock in and out, rapidly pounding your cunt into a fine paste. You come down from your high as he's still churning your insides and cry out again. You're too sensitive now!

You tap on his shoulder, but it garners no response. He lifts your legs and presses them back into your chest, getting even deeper. He's pounding into you like a wild animal. You feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten. Your nails dig into his back, your eyes crossing as you come again. He grunts as you tighten around him once more.

He thrusts into you so deep that you can see the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach even more than before. Your cervix needs an ice pack. He grips your waist, emptying the largest load he's ever cum. You're so tired. He continues pumping himself into you lazily. He rests his body weight on you, squishing you and pressing his still-hard cock against your stuffed insides.

Cum leeks past his cock onto the damp bedsheets. He pants, looking down at you. "I love you (y/n)," he says with the most love struck expression you've ever seen. You look like an angel to him. All you can do is twitch and bask in the afterglow of what he did. His cock began to completely re-harden at the beautiful sight he created before him.

You're no longer gym buddies, that's for sure. Thanks to him, you might be parents. You should have just accepted his feelings when you had the chance. Now your guts are filled and you're trapped under him with your knees by your head. What a workout.

[revelboo]

Oh no, I have a feeling the Scavengers are NOT gonna like their little human asking to go home…

Not particularly

Lifeless Ordinary Pt 6

Scavengers x Reader

• “What do you mean ‘no?’” You demand and Misfire hates that the crook might have been right about it being better not understanding you. Because then he wouldn’t have to listen to this argument, keeping an optic on Spinister as the medic gets increasingly agitated. “I don’t belong here.” No, but if he has his way, you aren’t going anywhere. He likes having you around and that realization surprises him.

• Nervously clicking at the device in his hand, Krok grimaces behind his mask. It’s not like he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, but even if they knew where your world was, he’s not wasting the fuel to get there and risk stranding the ship. “Sorry, tiny. You’re a Scavenger now,” Misfire says, baring his denta when you glare at him. “Deal with it.”

• Hasn’t he taken care of you? Misfire’s the one that kept poisoning you, not him. Spinister reaches for you, curling his servos around you and lifting you to cradle against his neck. Glaring defiantly at the rest of the crew, before carrying you to his quarters. Feels you pushing at him. “Spinister! This is important,” you tell him, frustration evident. So is keeping you happy. You only think you want to go home. Cupping you to him with one hand, he finds your stuffed animal and pushes it at you until you take it with a sigh. “You realize I’m an adult, right?”

• “I’m not stupid,” he growls and you wince at his tone. Because it had honestly occurred to you that the big guy isn’t a genius. Leaning against the warm mesh of his neck, you feel his big servos rubbing against your side and hip. “I just have trouble remembering things. Focusing. I get angry.”

• You lay a small, warm hand against him and he doesn’t know how to explain that it’s a bit easier to focus with you around. That this place feels more like a home with something uniting them. Something they all care about even if the others don’t want to admit it. That he might come apart completely if you try to leave, so he can’t allow it. You’re a good thing. His. He found you. And he’s keeping you.

• “You gonna get their home world’s location from Swindle?” Crankcase asks Krok. Can feel the tension on the bridge. Even Fulcrum looking uneasy as they wait on Krok’s decision. Knows it’d probably be best for you, to go back. Primus, knows they’re awful at caring for an organic. Just a bunch of dysfunctional failures and rejects, the dregs of the Decepticon army. But they’d banded together into something that while still very dysfunctional, he’s willing to fight for. And that little human is a Scavenger now, too. Lost just like the rest of them.

• “Misfire’s right. The human is one of us,” Fulcrum says, knowing that his opinion probably means very little to the others. Too new to them himself, but after a few false starts, they’d accepted him. Made him feel welcome among them. This may not be what you want, but it’s what they need. Spinister and Crankcase are both less volatile with you around. And it’s not just those two, everyone is more relaxed lately. Surely Krok’s noticed that. And it’s not like any of their lives went the way they wanted, but they’re okay. You will be, too.

Previous

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[xoxovanillq]

luke x reader where he comes back from his mission and is all insecure about his scar so reader like comforts him??? 🫣🫣

My baby, My baby

Pairing- Luke Castellan x reader

Warnings- Insecure Luke, allusions to smut, body dysmorphia (?), kinda short, r wears makeup.

You wished you noticed sooner.

You wish you noticed the first time you saw him rest his cheek in his hand, covering it completely. Or when he’d changed to lying with his right cheek to the pillow. You knew that mission had fucked him up, but you’d failed to notice this detail.

Now you stood here, in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at Luke. His hands were clasped around a makeup brush, foundation, concealer, and other makeup products scattered on the counter. His shirt was off, showing his bare torso to you for the first time since he’d gotten back, new scars littering his body. The most striking thing about the scene though, was the streak of foundation covering the scar on his cheek, obviously not his shade.

“Baby-“ Luke says shakily, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Luke what’s-“ He quickly cuts you off to speak.

“No, no, don’t look at me, please.” He says, voice broken and weak.

“Lukey, baby no, no, you need to talk to me. Come here, talk to me baby.” You say softly, taking a step towards him. He starts to back up, but the more rational part of him kicks in and stays in place.

“I- I failed, god- I failed, and now I have these stupid fucking things as a reminder.” He huffs out, the tears beginning to stream down his face.

“Sweetheart, oh, baby, you aren’t a failure. I love you baby, scars and all.” You explain, a reassuring expression on your face. You grab his arm, leading him to sit on the closed toilet seat, grabbing the makeup remover. “Can I clean you up?” Luke nods weakly, hanging his head low.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as a couple tears stream down his face. He holds onto your arm as you rub softly at his cheek with the soaked cotton pad.

“No need to be, I like your scars, they’re a part of you, they tell your story.” You reassure, setting the cotton pad aside and placing a hand on his cheek. You tip his face up, stroking your thumb over the scar. Luke smiles sadly, causing your own smile to widen, giving his forehead a kiss. You help him up, the two of you moving in front of the mirror. 

Luke stares at his reflection, eyes flicking over the new marks on his body. 

“Look at this body, look at all that. That’s my boy, that’s the man I get to call *mine*, and that makes me feel so lucky.” You say with a sweet smile on your face, rubbing a hand up and down his body. He smiles softly, looking truly happy for the first time in months.

“I love you.” Luke murmurs softly, placing a hand over yours. Suddenly, he feels your lips on his back. He can practically feel his pupils widen at your reaction. He smirks, reaching back and grabbing you. “Being a little tease, aren’t you?” Luke asks, tickling your sides, making you squirm and giggle. 

“Yay! You’re back!” Luke laughs at your words, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

“Let’s take this to bed.” He says with a chuckle, his voice deepening a bit as he speaks.

Your boyfriend was very much back to normal, so much so that he made sure that you weren’t going to be able to walk in the morning.

[laceymorganwrites]

First time calling you mommy - Lookism guys

A/N: why is it always delinquent guys that get me back into writing?

Vasco:

big dumb baby

never used to care about his dumbness and others calling him that because Jace takes care of most things for him

he always has others looking out for him and tells them regularly how grateful he is for that

once the two of you start dating Jace literally has a meeting session with you and gets you an actual fucking manual on Vasco

he doesn´t mean any harm, it´s just the way he does things

and it´s important to him to get to know you so he can know Vasco is in safe hands

approves of you immediately once he sees how much you baby his best friend and how much he enjoys it

teases Vasco about how clingy he is to you and that you´re more like his mommy than his girlfriend

´Is that bad?´

he loves it so much when you call him your big baby, is so soft for you

experiences subspace with you for the first time, he never felt that safe before, so taken care of

calls you mommy in public too, the Burn Knuckles and the others are already used to it but it´s still a bit awkward in convenience stores when he asks you to buy him snacks

Eli:

the only actual sweet and wholesome one out of those oops-

you haven´t known each other for that long yet, just from school

you´re the only from your classmates who actually knows anything about him

he doesn´t know why he trusts you so much but you´re the only person who doesn´t make him feel like a complete failure

he can just ... be with you, without thinking about anything dark or sad

that´s why it´s so easy for him to introduce you to his family

Yenna loves you immediately and instantly attaches to you

Eli is so relieved that she loves you so much, it takes so much off his shoulder having you around taking care of her, someone he trusts, so he can go to work without having to worry too much

Sally and you grow really close, she always teases that you´re better suited for the role of mom than her since you care so much for everyone

but you always say that there can be two moms and that she´s doing a much better job than you ever could

she´s also the first one you tell about your feelings for Eli, you kept them hidden for a long time because you didn´t want to pressure him

you didn´t even want to get into a relationship with him, not wanting him to be tied down in any way

after everything that happened with Heather you didn´t want to remind him of any of that, you were happy co-parenting as his close friend

Warren is the one to get Eli to admit his own feelings for you, he already was vulnerable around you before, he trusts you immensely after all

but now that he knows why it all makes so much sense, but at the same time he´s so scared

comes to you immediately after the talk and just confesses right then, sharing all his fears with you

it´s only when he´s in your arms that he finally admits it out loud

´Can you be my mommy too?´

Jake:

so fucking clueless

gives you such an awkward and unnecessarily long stare you think he´s actively judging every decision he made leading up to dating you

it was already so awkward and hard to get together with him because baby boy literally doesn´t know what he´s doing

the other boys had to set you two up on a date because he didn´t know how to ask you out

you gave him your number right when you met but he never called or texted because he didn´t know what to say so in the end the others just had to drag him out to meet you

granted he´s much better after that first date and getting over his initial nerves

still asks the boys about advice a lot, especially Sinu

and that´s how this whole mess started in the first place

him and Sinu live next door

one night he invited you over for dinner and to watch a movie and the two of you overheard Sinu and his girlfriend in bed

it´s hard to tell which one of you is more embarrassed (it´s Jake)

he won´t even meet your eyes after he hears Sinu moan ´mommy´

you two promise to never talk about this ever again, it´s the best kept secret, Sinu never finds out

still, Jake is curious about that kink now, he never really thought much about those power dynamics, he didn´t mind them but didn´t seek them out either

that´s when he notices that you take care of him a lot too and just how much he appreciates that

especially after a long day, you´re always there, to hear him out, to just be quiet with him, cuddle him, going out of your way to cook for him

´thanks, mommy´

it just slipped out, you will never forget how mortified he looked after he said those words

definitely needs baby steps to accept that side of him (and come to terms with having the same kink as Sinu)

Samuel:

´ooh you wanna call me mommy so bad´

´shut the fuck up´

okay so you´re either just fuckbuddies or enemies to lovers

since the second option is more fun I´ll go into a bit more detail here

you hated each other since you first met, you´re an older member of the Workers and responsible for showing him around at first

he´s a brat and not the fun kind, he´s unbearably annoying

he hates you because you´re not his type and he hates taking orders

you´re always at each other´s throats despite actively avoiding each other

it goes so far that Samuel asks Goo of all people for help

he tells him to just fuck it out in the most deadpan tone Samuel´s ever heard from him

one thing leads to the other and after you´re done he´s so mad about how good it was because to him you´re so ugly

´like you´re one to talk, sharpie boy´

you only keep sleeping with him because he has a big dick

not that he knows how to use it

you´re even more strict and harsh in bed which pisses him off, it pisses him off even more that it feels that much better when you do it in the way you want it

he refuses to submit to you no matter how much he likes it, just because his pride won´t let him

´come on, it´s not like we´re dating´

he´s so fed up with you telling him to call you mommy that he just gives in

he mumbles it to an extent he hopes you don´t hear it

but you don´t let him cum until he says it properly

´fucking fine! mommy....you happy now?´

he´ll never forget the smirk you gave him after that, the way you called him a good boy

he doesn´t know if he just has a praise kink or actually wants to date you

Johan:

you´re the one to bring it up first

so fucking irritated by it too at first

it was hard enough for him to admit his feelings and get into a relationship with you, let alone have sex with you

he´s discovering a lot of new things about himself with you which he´s grateful for but also it still scares him sometimes, how overwhelming it all feels

especially with his eyes he feels so weak and there´s nothing he hates more

you used to fight a lot whenever you wanted to take care of him

it took him a long time to understand that you don´t do it out of pity or because you think he´s useless, but it´s because you love him and that´s just the way you show it

he´s gotten into being blindfolded lately, at first he was against it because he still has a hard time letting go of control

but it´s easier on his eyes, the blurry vision gives him a headache most of the time

´shh, it´s okay, I´ve got you´

´it´s okay...I´m okay now, you know I trust you´

kissing you feels so much more intense whenever you blindfold him, this man is addicted to your lips anyway

always kisses you to the point he´s completely out of breath

you´re the only one to ever see him smile

´mommy, come back´

he whines as he still feels your breath on his face, he always teases you like that when he´s needy, missing your lips even one second after they left his

´I´m right here, baby´

Sinu:

sweet baby boy

he is such a poster boy, like the best example of mdlb

it was love at first sight

you were new on the street, opening a new shop for sweets and snacks

needless to say it becomes his favorite within seconds

has the sweetest smile around you

he´s so easy to fall in love with

he´s a gentleman but also never afraid to lean more into your touch and keep looking up at you whatever chance he gets

he´s submissive in the small ways, melts whenever you praise him

especially when you tell him you´re proud of him

you boost his confidence so much every time you tell him he´s attractive

he actually loves being called cute and being able to make you laugh

he´s still so happy to be dating you, he never thought he´d actually stand a chance with you

just kept annoying Jake and the girls about how to ask you out and afterwards how amazing you were

literally updates them on everything after you two were official, first time holding hands, saying I love you

you said it first and he cried on the spot from happiness

´I love you too, mommy, so, so much´

Warren:

he is so SHY with it

doesn´t know how to bring up the topic at all

he´s home alone thinking about how to tell you he loves you, you´ve been dating for so long now but you never actually said you were boyfriend and girlfriend yet

Eli always told him to get to know someone first, to date properly before making any serious decisions like that

he´s in the kitchen when he hears something

he forgot Hudson is home, or rather Hudson forgot Warren´s home since that guy is just listening to porn on full volume

in this moment Warren is just glad that nobody else is home (and he also pretends he never heard anything not to embarrass Hudson)

he´s cooking dinner for everyone but keeps getting distracted by the sounds, it intrigues him

he always lets you take the lead in bed simply because he enjoys it the most, seeing you in charge, how good it makes you feel to make him feel good

and he´s so proud whenever you show him that expression only reserved for him

he´s more of a service dom with sub vibes in every day life

when you come home that night he asks you to be his girlfriend and when you agree he just decides to ask you the other thing directly too

´can I call you mommy too?´

Kenta:

it happened on accident

he´s always been very quiet about his own needs because he feels like he doesn´t deserve to be taken care of the way he always wanted to

you´re also a part of Workers, but used to work at Vivi´s club before switching over to his division

you´re pretty much the mom of the whole team and get along with everyone

he doesn´t mind you seeing him without his mask on, he does respect you and your reputation in the organisation but he doesn´t allow himself any more than that

he´s completely inexperienced after all so he doesn´t know what to do with the feelings he has once they appear

he doesn´t understand why you find him so attractive, but he also doesn´t complain when you keep telling him how handsome he is

you´re the only person who´s allowed to touch him

doesn´t like how easily he blushes with you and how his skin seems to be on fire everywhere you touch

he loves it the most when you hold his face in his hands like it´s the most precious thing in the world

he doesn´t understand at all

only reluctantly agrees to be your boyfriend and tells you immediately to not expect anything from him

he doesn´t think that you´re actually serious about him

kind of panics when he realizes you actually like him

keeps asking you why

´do I need a reason? I just like you, that´s not gonna change, you know?´

he´s extremely insecure about his abilities overall but he´s just clueless when it comes to romance so he actually doesn´t know what to do at all

he´s relieved when you take the lead, feels safe in your presence, like he actually matters and means something

you help him gain confidence and find his own self worth

he´s such a good kisser

one night he comes home exhausted from a job and just falls into bed, immediately asleep

you take the time to get some work around the house done

when you come back to the bedroom and sit down at the edge of the bed you can´t help but smile

Kenta´s having a wet dream about you, he looks so cute and small like that

´mommy...feels good...´

Gun:

oh boy, he made the biggest mistake of all

he´s more on the sadistic dom side himself

he doesn´t mind having others take the lead in bed but it mostly ends up boring him

he has trouble feeling overall, he has to learn how to feel in a healthy way again

you´re...not the right person for that

in fact you´re much much more worse than him

you don´t give a shit about anything, you don´t do relationships, you only fuck with guys who shut up when you tell them to

Gun and you are friends, you´re very similar so you get along immediately

especially because it´s so very clear to both of you that you´ll never be compatible so you don´t even have to bother trying

it´s easier that way, working together, hanging out, no responsibilities or fear of getting hurt or hurting the other person

it should´ve remained like that

´you´d be the perfect mommy, you know?´

´fuck off, I don´t do that shit´

you´re not nice like a mommy´s supposed to be, you´re more of a mistress or goddess type but since you don´t care for the sexual partners you have there´s no power dynamic, there´s just you fulfilling your needs and wants

´that´s a shame, you´d be good at it, you´re a natural, trust me´

´and why would I do that?´

´cause I wanna see it for myself´

´fine. but we do it my way, asshole´

your arrangement is...strange to say the least

it´s not a relationship, it´s not even fuckbuddies either

Gun and you don´t even sleep together that much

you just clash too much

and Gun already is spoiled in every way of his life

still, he´s intrigued by the concept, it´s so...dull to him but somehow that just makes him all the more curious, the domestic part of it

it´s new to you both, even cuddling is weird, he´s touchstarved and becomes extremely clingy towards you, you hate showing affection in any way, you both hate being touched

but somehow...it´s not that bad

you become hyperaware of him and his needs, it´s hard to be soft, that´s just not how you are

but it gets easier over time, Gun doesn´t even realize it but he stops teasing you eventually, he didn´t think he´d enjoy it this much, not being in control

Goo:

this bitchass wouldn´t hesitate to call you mommy the second he lays eyes on you

he knows what he likes and he isn´t afraid to show and express it

doesn´t understand why he should be ashamed of it either, he´s always been open with his interests and kinks (much to Gun´s dismay)

he always wanted someone to take care of him, not just because he´s a lazy and spoilt bastard but mostly because he´s a hopeless romantic (but refuses to admit it)

when Goo had his first date ever he over prepared with a bunch of flowers and chocolate and even had a bluetooth box with some cheesy songs playing and Gun laughed at him so much he never recovered from it

Gun still teases him about it so much so that Goo has to actively hide his romantic side so he can spare himself the humiliation

in private he just goes all out because of that

people think he´s just a joke but what they don´t get is that he´s brutally honest all the time

you´re the only one who got him from the start which is why he knows you´re the one instantly and full on fucking courts you, taking it slow, a good pre-dating phase, the most beautifully planned dates ever

´please be my mommy, I´m begging you´

´sure, why not´

´wait, that worked?´

he´s exactly your type, he doesn´t fuck around, both of you know what you want

he´s funny but honest to a fault

he doesn´t play games or anything of the sort, he´s just hopelessly in love with you

does so many things to impress you

shows you his sword collection and talks about it for two hours straight

tells you he loves you right after he notices you actually listened and were interested

´mommy´s proud of you, baby´

[radiocrypt-id]

The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)

Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.

Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.

The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.

[demigoddessqueens]

a what if….?

I’M FEELING ANGSTY AND I STILL HAVE FEELS

‼️ALSO MAJOR SPOILERS‼️ based on screenshots

don’t think about Miguel who’s bitter but endures the hardships with his heart closed off. Until now

He’s endured the loss through his family and his past failures weighing heavy on his mind, soul, heart

resigned to accept a lonely fate, there’s another Earth version of you and of all chances, you work within the society alongside him and the others

But he’s seen you before….or at least other versions of you, and he knows first-hand how it personally feels to let you down, to have failed you and he was helpless to save you

don’t think about how he so desperately wants to get close to you, it’s written all over his face. Jessica sees it, Hobie does; Peter B, Lyla, Pav, even Miles and Gwen see how he is around you.

The few times he’s let the mask fall around you, it’s a constant push-and-pull. You know his story, his failures, and Miguel knows he’s nowhere being the easiest to talk to or get along with, but you stay. And holding you in his arms as his lips touch you feels like a life he had not long ago

after the showdown with Miles, he’s back to his old ways and he feels you slipping away. It hurts, it tears, and sometimes he reminds himself he can never fully have you,

You go off with Peter B and Gwen and the rest of them, going against everything of your love, but you know it’s the right thing that has to be done

and most importantly, don’t think about Miguel tracking you down once he’s figured it out and the worst argument ensues until he breaks completely

“I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH, I CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN —- I- i can’t lose you…I-I’m not strong enough still.”

You kiss him goodbye (for now) and find the others, placing the mask to shield him from seeing your expression but mostly so that you don’t see the heartbreak on his

[leighsartworks216]

Kitty Cards

Sylus x gn!Reader

I will never ever win a game against this man istg

Warnings: losing, frustration

Word Count: 925

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You swear he’s cheating. He has to be. There’s no way he just happened to draw three 6-point kitty cards to start with.

You look down at your own hand. Ah, yes, what a fine selection of ones and twos. None of the colors even match the cups!

“Sweetie, if you glare any harder, the kitties will jump out of the cards and run away.”

You turn your glare on Sylus. He’s sitting casually in the cafe chair, as relaxed as if he were back home. And that stupid smug smile! Ugh, it infuriated you to no end.

“Honestly, why do I keep inviting you to play if I’m just gonna keep losing,” you groan. You draw another card. Wow. A three. With no color matching cup. Fantastic. You sigh.

He chuckles and plays a card, doubling his 5 points to 10. At this point, it’s just sad. You’ve got 3 points to your name and he has 30-something at least. Maybe playing with him wouldn’t be so bad if you were anywhere close in scores, if he had 23 and you had 22. Enough to feel like it’s anyone’s game and not decided before you’ve even shuffled the deck.

Or maybe that would make it worse.

You play your 3-point card to keep him from getting the last cup. He lays his cards on the table, face down.

“Relax, sweetie. I’ve had plenty of practice in games with much higher stakes.”

“How many 6-point cards do you have right now?” you demand.

He smirks as he lifts up the edges to check. You know he remembers. The salt is ground ever deeper into your wounds. “None.”

“Mhm. And 5-point cards?”

“None.”

You frown, seemingly even more frustrated now that you know he just got lucky. “Well, what do you have?”

He fans the cards out for you to see, long fingers holding them apart.

All ones.

He chuckles again as you huff and snatch them from his hand to pile on the deck. You don’t look up at him as you shuffle repeatedly. He flags down a waiter who replaces the cups with new ones with staggering efficiency. You cut the deck no less than 3 times, to ensure complete randomness, and place them back in the center. He goes to draw a card, but you’re setting it in front of him before he can.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” he muses, picking up his two cards.

You ignore him, looking from your hand to the cups. You have an advantage by starting with three cards, but he could have the better hand regardless. The game really begins when he makes his move.

It’s not even 5 minutes later that your head is down on the table.

“I’m never gonna beat you, am I?” you mutter, not even caring if he does or doesn’t hear you.

He hums, quietly gathering your cards and organizing the deck. He sets it back in the center of the array without shuffling. “Don’t worry, you can practice with the twins.”

You laugh dryly. “They cheat like it’s the objective of the game.”

“All the better to practice against them.”

You don’t answer. Sylus drains the last dredges of his coffee. Your drink hasn’t been touched since the first round, two games ago.

As amusing as your pity-party is normally, he knows the failure runs a little deeper today. Usually, you sigh and moan and whine, but it only spurs you on to try harder next time. He’d never thought he’d see the day you succumb to defeat.

He sighs and stands up. “Wait here, kitten.”

You lift your head up. There’s a red mark on your forehead from where it rested on the table. “Why? Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles as he hands you his card. “Get a new drink and something sweet, kitten. I won’t be long.”

You glower at the card in his hand, but take it anyway. You don’t watch him as he leaves.

-

When he comes back, the table has been cleared of cards and empty cups. A half-eaten slice of cake has been pushed to his side of the table. He wonders if you wanted to share with him, or if you feel too bad to indulge.

You’re taking a sip of your drink when something is set on the table in front of you. Sylus sits back down and picks up the fork on the plate.

You blink, because surely you’ve fallen asleep in the cafe and this is just a dream. But the big, full eyes of the crow plushie continue to stare back at you. You look up at Sylus for answers.

“I’m not heartless, kitten. Even I can only bear to see you sad for so long.” He cuts a bite off the cake with the side of the fork. “It loses its fun if you’re really upset.”

You flush, from embarrassment or from watching him eat off the same fork you’d used when a clean one sat next to him on a napkin. Maybe both. You set your drink down and grab the plushie.

Its ruffle is a bit uneven, so you idly adjust it so it sits better. The fabric of its body is soft. You boop its little beak.

You look back up at Sylus. He still has his eyes on you, like he’s still not sure if you like his little gift. You smile and hug it to your chest. “Thank you.”

He grins in return. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

[prose-for-hire]

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Two)

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part two of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks, difficult relationship with dad!Giles, reader doesn't like Buffy much.

You did, it turns out, like Spike in a way you hadn’t realised until you had spent some time with him. It made sense now, all the time you had tried talking to him and clinging onto the small amount you had learnt about him while he stayed with you for all those months. The amount of Passions you watched just to spend time with him.

He fascinated you, made you feel at ease in a way that no one ever had, despite the casual threats of death.

You knew, however, that if you stayed where you wanted to be, with Spike, there could be trouble. Not only with the Scoobies. You were still hurt by what had happened with your father. You felt like a failure, you had never meant to lose the jobs or disappoint your Dad.

You just hated the expectations he had and the pressure he had always laid on so thick and it made you want something completely different. What this different thing was, however, you weren’t sure.

You were sitting on a stone tomb, watching as Spike walked towards you, slamming himself down beside you while he waited the last agonising minutes for the sun to rise.

“What’s happening in that mind of yours?” He asked, using two fingers to tap his own temple. He had caught you staring into the distance again, reliving that horrible moment with your father.

“What do you mean?”

“Can tell there’s something up from a mile away” He shook his head adding, “Not that I care much that is”

“I feel like a bad person” you sighed, folding in on yourself.

“You ain’t bad, believe me, I know bad”

“Maybe I haven’t killed anyone like you but if I was a good person, Dad wouldn’t have-” You started to let your mouth run as fast as your thoughts, before he cut you off, a flash of anger behind his eyes at how you had been made to feel.

“Don’t start with all that rot, what dear Rupert did was evil even by my standards. If anything, love, you’re painfully average verging on boring” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke.

“Thanks, I actually really needed that,” You laughed through the tears that had started to well in your eyes. You paused for a moment, before asking, “I don’t think you’ve ever spoken to me this much. Why wouldn’t you talk to me at Dad’s?”

“Couldn’t risk it”

“What do you mean?” Your words caught in your throat as you asked.

“Well, you know, send in the pretty one to play good cop and all that crap” he explained, elaborating that he had thought that you were playing him to get information out of him about the Initiative for Buffy and the others.

You smiled softly at the way he spoke about you. You sat in silence for a while, smiling at him softly, leaning back against the threadbare sofa. He did the same, lying back, his head turned towards you until there were mere inches between you.

He was watching your lips curve in that way he found so pleasing. It made him feel something deep within, a tensing, a fluttering of something he couldn’t describe. God, how he wanted to lean into you, press his lips against you. But he couldn’t let himself go there. He didn’t like Watchers or Slayers. In fact, he hated you. Yep, definitely. Hate. That was what this was.

Later on, after you had stayed for a couple more days, you began to worry that you had outstayed your welcome but he had never actually asked you to leave. It had been confirmed to you as Spike burst through from the lower level of the crypt and kicked some of your old clothes you had set aside to go to a laundromat later.

“Bloody crap everywhere! Can’t move for all your human bollocks” He kicked a bag that was leaking clothes onto the floor. You had sneaked back into your Dad’s place to grab more of your stuff and had overheard him on the phone to someone, once again assassinating your character.

“You’re right. I should probably find something more human-y and permanent” You shrugged, “Thanks for, uh, letting me stay and all”

“Where you gonna go?” He stopped what he had been doing, his brow furrowing in that way that you found so cute. His head cocked to the side as he asked the question.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find something”

“Can’t have that, love, stay until you’ve got somethin’ more proper figured out”

“You want me to stay?”

“’S not that. You could be eaten up tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a toss,” He insisted, slightly more half-heartedly than normal, “Just wouldn’t be right to see you out when you’re perfect bait for anything nasty that walks it’s way in”

It was true, the two instances that a demon had found their way into the crypt, they had made straight for you. Thus, ignoring Spike and letting him gain the upper hand on them both.

His eyes lit up at the way you smiled at his words. Despite the cruel appearance of his words, they made you smile. You had found yourself fond of his threats, his way with words. You had it bad. He drank in your form, eyes lingering first on your lips then slowly along your cheek and before slowly moving to meet your eyes.

He snapped himself away, after spending too long with that unmoving gaze. He snatched up his book and began to read by candlelight sat on one of the stone tombs, again waiting for the sun to set so that he could grab some blood and other necessities.

You stayed on the sofa, lying back and thinking about everything that had brought you to this point.

The turning of the pages and the soft candlelight, the occasional whisper of Spike’s voice as he murmured words that he was reading under his breath. It made you yawn, eventually slipping into a slumber. The atmosphere made you feel so comfortable, comfort in such a way that you had never experienced before. You weren’t afraid of being attacked or judged for your decisions. You didn’t have any pressure or expectations to live up to.

You felt… safe.

After placing a blanket over your sleeping form, Spike decided to make a little trip out. He needed to get a few things, he was starting to enjoy having a roommate. Especially one that he found so attractive. Not that he particularly let himself think on this for too long. He was trying so desperately to stop the feelings from growing, denying it the light of day to bloom.

You hadn’t noticed it to begin with, the way that the crypt started to resemble something not far from cosy. There was a tv set, a little makeshift bar with a fridge and it had been decorated with fairy lights and he had even sourced a real mattress for your room on the lower level. It was split into two, Spike had the bigger room, his explanation was that he deserved it being the only one providing for the house while you tried to find a job. 

After a couple of months, you and Spike had been dancing around feelings that had started to grow, not that either of you recognised that the other felt the same. Spike could be grumpy and still often threatened to drink from your brainstem if you left a mess around the place. He was surprisingly particular about how his home was made, especially considering that you were in a crypt and half of it was covered in cobwebs.

“Fancy a proper drink then, pet?” He asked one night.

 You had grown fond of the pet names and smiled at his words, you would never have thought your relationship with Spike would become something akin to a friendship. You adored him and allowed yourself brief daydreams where you reached for more.

“I haven’t got any money, Spike, you know that”

“On me”

“I don’t like being in debt to people”

“I’m sure we can work out some kind of repayment” He arched his eyebrow suggestively before snatching up his leather duster and gesturing for you to follow him.

Turns out, there was no repayment necessary as Spike stole the liquor and two glasses from behind the bar and topped up your drinks all night. You never thought you would feel so normal drinking in a demon bar. You did get a few suspicious looks but when Spike glared back they assumed that he was just going to eat you later himself.

You sat in a booth, leaning into him so you could hear what he was saying over the music that was playing. He told you all sorts of stories about his ‘glory days’ and you hung onto every word. You could tell he was exaggerating some of them to impress you and it only made you enjoy them more.

“Spike?” You asked quietly after a while.

“Mm?”

“Is this a date?” You asked, eyes not able to meet his. You instead pretended to find the contents of your glass incredibly interesting.

“Depends, love”

“On?”

“If-” He started, never able to finish what he had been about to let slip. Luckily or unluckily, depending on which mood he was in, he didn’t have chance because a gang slammed the entrance open and started to smash the place up.

He immediately got up and positioned himself in front of you, blocking you from the threat. He smirked and rolled his eyes when he saw you get up and stand beside him in his peripheral.

They were clearly looking for someone that wasn’t you, but when their eyes did land on you it was all that they were interested in. It was the Scoobies. They had clearly heard some edited version of why you had left from your father as they looked at you with suspicion.

“I should have known that you would sink as low as this. To dance with depravity like this is truly reprehensible” Your father spoke first as the other three whispered to each other.

“Spike’s done more for me in the last month than any of you put together. These people haven’t done anything to you-”

“Apart from the fact that they’re not people, they’re demons,” Buffy reminded you. You ignored her.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore Giles, I don’t care that I’ve disappointed you and I don’t care that you think I’m all “evil” now for having a couple of drinks in a demon bar. Surely someone that was educated so well couldn’t be so stupid?!” You rolled your eyes

“Y/n-”

“Take your Slayer and go” You warned. They had just been looking for information anyway, Giles decided to do as you said (for probably the first time in your life). What you had said affected him. He had been visibly taken aback before you watched him walk back with the rest of the Scooby gang.

The bartender announced free drinks for everyone to celebrate their unlife lasting at least another night now that the Slayer had left. You weren’t exactly feeling it anymore though, so you both left.

You assumed Spike was going to say something mean in answer to your questioning that had been interrupted. But he truly had almost said it had been a date. If you had wanted it to be. He would have done anything, so long as it had made you happy. He knew this now. Knew for certain his desire, his love, was a force that could not be curtailed. The way you had stood up for yourself, even for him. He was used to the insults that were hurled his way by Buffy and the others. He had forgotten what it was like to have someone in his corner.

He was doing that thing again, watching you with that look. The one that told you he knew you, could see directly into your soul. The one you would so gladly offer up to him had he asked.

You were grateful for his presence beside you as the adrenaline from the argument still draining from your body slowly. It had still not properly subsided by the time you both arrived home.

Home.

Funny how a place like this could make you feel such relief. It was simple, but you had never felt that way coming ‘home’ before.

You stood close, his face close to yours, so close that you could smell him. Thick smoke and some kind of cologne that you had never noticed before. You leaned in further, not knowing if it was leftover adrenaline or just pure need, you caught his lips with yours.

He had been leaning towards you at the same moment, his hand sliding up your arm, lingering against your neck. He cradled your neck as his lips moved to meet yours. He pressed himself against you, desperate and wanting. Needing your touch, your kiss. Your everything.

His touch made your kiss deepen, you pulled his shirt, balling it in your fists as you tried to pull him even closer. He tasted good. Too good.

You moved away from him, breaking the sweet contact you had been wanting for so long now. You stepped back again, telling him to go and make himself comfortable. You needed to grab a few things and that you would be back.

“Bloody tease!” he called after you playfully as he did what you had said. He’d have listened to anything you had said to do that again. To touch your body so intimately. It had been all he had fantasised about. All he had been consumed by.

You didn’t immediately understand why you did it.

Why you left the crypt and didn’t look back, walking away into the night.

Leaving him waiting for your return.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Failing to Thrive then Thriving in failure

I just had the funniest notion. Time travel comedy, but the twist is that Palpatine is the one to go back in time. 

So we start just after Kenobi, Palpatine has been emperor for about a decade, he succeeded. The Sith plan is complete, he has everything he had dreamed of and worked toward for a decade…and he is so bored. He never realized that 90% of his joy actually came from pretending to be a benevolent Chancellor and the intrigue of fooling people.  Now he has shown his true colors and could not go back to pretending (it simply would not work). Being the Sith in charge is not as fun as he thought it would be. Even getting to openly torture people has lost its appeal after 10 years.

It’s ok for Vader. For one Vader was never interested in those intrigues in the first place. For two 45% of Vader brain is taken up by trying to resurrect Padme Amidala, 50% is taken up by Obi Wan Kenobi (Palpatine is not sure if Vader wants to kill Kenobi, Kriff Kenobi, make Kenobi tuck Vader in every night and tell him is it going to be alright, Force Kenobi to help Vader resurrected Padme, or make sure Kenobi is eating, taking care of himself, and has a good enough blanket), leaving only 5% for everything else.  

Frankly if this is what Kenobi had to deal with before the war, Palpatine is somewhat impressed he got anything done.

Vader isn’t bored. Palpatine’s assorted lesser minions are not bored, they are living the dream of being as bigoted as their little fascist hearts desire. But Palpatine just could not find joy any longer. 

I do want it clear. Palpatine is not repentant. He does not regret the deaths that he caused, the genocide, the enslavement, any of it. He’s just bored. 

One day Palpatine finds a book, or maybe an artifact, or possibly a scrap of paper with an archaic formula. The title roughly translates to ‘Sith Master Time Travel’ (Listen The Son was also very bored, and being outside of Space Time meant He wanted to see what would happen). Palpatine is able to time travel, but only as far back as when he became a Sith Master. It was also a one time deal, he would not be able to use the method again AND it would destroy his origin timeline (not that that actually factored into Palpatine’s decision at all).  Not to mention he would essentially be possessing and killing his previous, alternate timeline self. 

Of course Palpatine time travels. He goes all the way back to the moment he became the Sith Master (it turns out the Sith titles are not just titles), looking at the still warm corpse of Hugo Damask, just as the Naboo crisis is wrapping up. 

Now Palpatine had already decided to do some things differently.  At first he was still working outward the Grand Sith Plan, if trying to keep his ‘Kindly Politician’ mask a bit longer, however he has decided that instead of Vader (or possibly in addition to Vader, if things get boring again) he will get Obi Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, figuring that there must have been a reason that every Sith Apprentice for 20 years ends up obsessed with the man (also because he thinks it would be funny to corrupt the Jedi’s ‘Guiding Light’). Dooku and all the pieces needed to start the Clone wars are already mostly in place. It is just a matter of maintaining until the clones are the right age.  So he does what he needs to to maintain the Empire building plans and decides to focus on corrupting Obi Wan. 

He fails, utterly. He fails so fully that Obi Wan did not even notice his attempts at corruption. Like he knew it would take time to corrupt a Jedi, he had done before after all, but he still expected at least a little change within the first year. There was nothing. 

And it was not a case of Obi Wan not trusting Palpatine. This is still a decade before the war. Obi Wan is a grieving, freshly knighted,  trying to keep up with a nine year old with somewhat unique trauma. Palpatine knows how to get Obi Wan to feel comfortable and trust him (Palpatine probably knows too well how to get Obi wan to feel comfortable and trust him, between Dooku and Vader). Obi Wan is just, for a given value, incorruptible. 

Now Palpatine’s obsession switch has been flipped. He went into it thinking that corrupting Obi Wan would be a fun side project, a way to pass the time.  He was wrong.  He knows from the previous timeline that torture would not be effective (Listen if the torture mask specifically built to corrupt lightsiders did not make a dent after a month it is pretty well proven that torture will not cause Kenobi to fall, Palpatine knows this) nor would killing Kenobi’s loved work (again, if it didn’t last time we have some pretty concrete proof). 

So now we have Palpatine trying every method he can think of to seduce Kenobi the darkside, always just shy of admitting to being a Sith or being creepy. To the point that he has actually forgotten the Empire building he was doing. He kind of even forgets to be Sidious.  He almost ghosts Dooku, before he remembers that Dooku is Kenobi’s grandfather(that is not the correct term, Dooku tries to correct Palpatine an even dozen times before giving up) and gets Dooku involved in the corruption that is STILL. GOING. NOWHERE.

Dooku basically becomes Grandpa Dooku to both Obi Wan and Anakin, and falls back into the Light while trying unsuccessfully to corrupt Obi Wan to the Dark. Due to darkside vow complications (also because I think it would be really funny) Dooku is not able to say, imply, or otherwise do anything to make the Jedi suspicious that Palaptine is a Sith. Also, to a certain extent he thinks that as long as Palpatine is focused on corrupting his incorruptible grandson, the other Sith is not thinking about galactic domination (To be fair he is correct).  

Palpatine spends most of his time trying to corrupt Obi Wan, while keeping up the act used to maintain Obi Wan’s trust. The thing is Palpatine is fully aware that Anakin in the original timeline was about observant as a particularly dense brick wall and would not have realized that the persona of ‘My friend Palaptine’ did not match the reality of ‘My pal Friendpatine’. Obi Wan would realize if his act was not consistent. 

So Palpatine decided to keep the act up 24/7.  And everyone knows that your actions become your habits become your personality. 

Somewhere in year 8 Palpatine forgets how to Sith. 

Technically he is still a darksider but not the extra layer of fucked up that comes from being an actual Sith. And he still has not even made a dent in Obi Wan’s light. He has also, almost single handedly, derailed the war that had been brewing and fixed about 40% of the corruption in the Senate.  All without killing a single senator.

Palpatine spends most of his time very confused. 

Palpatine lets his term as Chancellor end, having gone down in history as one of the most beloved Chancellors in history.  The Clones are found and mostly are inducted as an arm of the Jedi Order. Jango Fett is given a metric ton of therapy, which helps him see that the Jedi were not actually at fault for Galidraan (Jango had, in fact, been the person to escalate things to violence) before he is allowed to take Boba back into the galaxy. By that point the Clones want little to do with him. 

For the rest of his life Palpatine tries, unsuccessfully, to corrupt Obi Wan (who never noticed). At this point he is genuinely friends with a number of Jedi (He and Mace Windu have a surprising amount in common, including a love of the theater and a mild exasperation for Anakin Skywalker's antics). He is an honored guest at both the CodyWan and the Anidala Weddings (including a Jedi based wedding ceremony).

Honestly he is having the most fun of his life. 

He is also never caught as a darksider. He never figures out how that is possible either.