#i /struggle/ with fluff actually

[aparticularbandit]

If you still need ideas for prompts, maybe this. I know that Agatha loses the baby in the Valentines universe but maybe you could do a fluff fic back when she was pregnant and maybe write about both her and Cian taking Christmas weekend off from work and Cian pampers her throughout Christmas. I know it ends badly but I thought it may be nice to see them talk about their thoughts and feelings when she was pregnant (because of weight problems, maybe she makes slight demeaning comments about herself because of her size etc). Of course you don’t have to but I thought it might be a fun little thing to write about that you (probably) don’t have to write too long (although I love when you write longer things so whatever length is fine haha)

I have failed at this task because I thought good-natured fluff would be good for Agatha's birthday and she just would NOT.

SO.

Also because Valentines timeline - Agatha and Eve both get pregnant as a result of celebrating post-Claire wins her election - there'd only be six weeks ish by the time of Agatha's birthday.

SO.

I. plan to try and actually complete the prompt the way you want the prompt to be completed! Just! In Agave Stuff timeline instead of Valentines timeline. The same pregnancy -> stillbirth event happens there with Cian and Agatha, but I can play a little bit more with the timing on that because I. haven't. put a date on it. (This is more of a constraint on me - I know I didn't have to hold to that for Valentines! But. I'm bad at that when I've got a timeline I try to hold to. ><)

MY APOLOGIES THAT THE FIRST ONE IS PRETTY MUCH ANGST AGATHA WOULDN'T COOPERATE.

(The first one is here and then here on AO3, and I will bring this back up with the links to the fluff one when it's posted. SORRY.)

[temeyes]

i,, i don't know what possessed me,,

[sturnina]

Jealousy

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader

— tags;; mentions of a physical fight & injury, injury tending, fighting, pet name (baby), no use of yn, toxic habits (overprotectiveness)

— wc;; 1282

— author‘s note;; my take on overprotectiveness since i hate the „touch her and you die“ trope, hope you enjoy <3

He did it again.

You don‘t know how to feel as you silently drive home, Chris in the passenger seat, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging in your mind.

He did it again. He hit a guy just because he looked at you weirdly.

Don‘t get me wrong, you love his protective side. It is hot, honestly. The way he always makes sure everyone knows you‘re his girl, the way his arm sneaks around your waist at parties, the way he gets rid of other boys trying to flirt with you.

But this… this wasn‘t protective, this was violent. He hit a guy, for the second time this week. The second time in four days.

Yes, the guy was rude and obnoxious. Yes, you felt uncomfortable around him. Yes, you were relieved when Chris came to your help after the guy wouldn‘t listen to your No’s.

But Chris‘s punch, it wasn‘t protective. It was violent, brutal, merciless. And of course, the guy hit him back, right on his cheek.

When you glance to your right, you can see the dark patch forming on your boyfriend‘s cheekbone.

You arrive home — your house, not the triplets‘ —, and you go to fetch the first aid kit immediately after entering through the front door. Chris trails in behind you, unbothered by his split lip and bruised cheek.

He just sits down at the kitchen table, knowing you will take care of him. Expecting you to.

You take an ice pack out of the refrigerator and settle down next to Chris, all in complete silence. You can‘t bear to hear his voice now, or your own. You‘re afraid it might give your thoughts away. And your eyes, your eyes will surely betray you, so you keep them focused on the ice, the bruise, your hand, anything but Chris‘s eyes. That he is looking at you constantly isn‘t helping.

But eventually, he picks up on your uncharacteristically silent behaviour.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Everything alright?”

You swallow thickly, knowing your voice will give in the second you try to speak. So you remain silent. For exactly three seconds, dabbing a cotton pad at his split lip, before Chris speaks again.

“That dick won‘t bother you anymore.”

Of course, he thinks that‘s the problem. Of course.

“That‘s not what I‘m worried about,” you mutter, stoically keeping your eyes on his injuries.

“You‘re worried about me? Oh, baby, you know I can take care of myself,“ Chris says warmly.

“That’s not… I am worried about you, Chris. You need to stop this. But-”

“Baby, you know I won‘t,“ he mutters, slowly tilting your chin up with the hand that isn‘t holding the ice pack. “Those pricks deserve it.“

“Besides the fact that no one deserves to get beat up, that‘s not what I mean,“ you say, pulling away from him. “You need to stop or you‘ll end up in serious trouble.“

“I won‘t,“ he says softly. “I promise. I just want to teach them a lesson-”

“You‘re not listening to me, Chris!”

“What are you talking about, of course I‘m listening to you,“ he says, his brows furrowing.

“No you‘re not,“ you scoff. “I see the way you look at the guys you‘re going to hit. I‘m not blind. I can see that you want it.“

“Of course I want it,“ Chris says, laying a hand on your arm. “I need to protect my girl-”

“That‘s not what I mean, and we both know it,“ you snap, quickly closing your mouth and taking a deep breath. “I am just an excuse. Don‘t deny it!“

He already opened his mouth but closes it again, worry and confusion clouding his gaze. “Baby-”

“No. Listen to me,“ you interrupt him, trying to keep your tone calm. “You like the confrontation, don‘t you? The adrenaline? But you can‘t see… You don‘t see the way it‘s hurting me.“

Chris‘s expression falters for a moment. “I don‘t- what are you- what do you mean? I don‘t understand…“ he stutters.

“No, you don‘t,“ you say softly, pulling your arm out of his grip and standing up to bring more distance between you.

He really doesn‘t. He doesn‘t understand the way your heart clenches every time a guy even just glances at you in public. He doesn’t understand the way your thoughts start racing even when someone is just walking in your direction. He doesn‘t understand the way you‘re terrified of talking to anyone while out with him — out of fear to trigger his jealousy.

The air feels thick as you look at his expression, his desperate eyes, the bruise on his cheek and his still-bleeding lip.

“Explain it to me,“ he says, “please, what am I doing wrong?“

“You don‘t see the way you‘re hurting me, hurting everyone around you,“ you whisper, your voice just as thick now. The words feel like they‘re stuck in your throat and you have to force yourself to speak them. „I hate seeing people hurt, especially you. I hate seeing you get hurt, and knowing- knowing that it‘s because of me.“

“That‘s not true, baby, I‘m-”

“Please, Chris,“ you whisper, tears collecting in your eyes, “Please let me finish. I hate avoiding to go- to go out in public with you just because I can‘t… I can‘t trust you not to lash out at someone, I hate b-being scared every time someone looks at me or talks to me, I- I just… I hate seeing you angry, I hate seeing you violent, I hate seeing you like that… And yet you- you keep doing it, n-no matter how o-often I ask you to stop…“ Your throat is clogged, your breaths are laboured, your eyes are watering, and you physically can‘t speak anymore, the words having drained out of your head. But there is one sentence left, one you‘re terrified to even think.

And Chris is just standing there, the words burning in his mind, on his skin, digging into his flesh while he tries not to rush to hug you because he knows, he knows it wouldn‘t help. And then he feels the tears running down his face, and the pain ripping through his chest. You don‘t trust him. You can‘t trust him, you said it yourself. You‘re scared of him.

Fists clenching at his sides, he lets that sink in. Everything he‘s done for you, everything he thought he‘s done for you, crumbles under the heavy weight of reality, the realisation that he‘s been hurting you all along.

He steps forward, raises his arms, and sees the way you cross your arms. A shielding gesture. Chris thinks he can hear his heart finally shatter at that, after slowly cracking over the entire conversation.

There are no words he can use to explain himself. He knows he should apologise. But how do you apologise after terrifying your girl over and over again without even noticing? What words are there to express the mixture of frustration, fear, and self-hatred he‘s feeling against himself?

Chris drops his arms to his sides.

He turns around, and leaves.

And you are left alone. The front door slams closed, but you don‘t even flinch. Your mind is full, and so are your eyes, your ears, everything is clogged with memories, everything is breaking inside you, but you are relieved.

You are relieved, because how could you bear his overwhelming presence any longer, with one last question, one last sentence burning on your mind, a question you can‘t ignore but also can‘t speak, not in front of him?

How can you be sure he will never lash out at you? How can you be sure that you will never be on the receiving end of his fist?

masterlist

[elsecrytt]

so i had a thought.

what if 236 is actually jujutsu tech propaganda?

mei mei is broadcasting this entire thing, right? what better way to protect gojo from bounty hunters etc., than convince the entire world that he's already dead?

the final battle happened offscreen, with significantly less fanfare. gojo rescued megumi, defeated sukuna. the day was saved.

at a cost.

gojo gave up everything - at least, everything he valued. the six eyes, his abilities as a sorcerer. he assumed that would make him a normal man, and he was right -

what he didn't realize was that it would also make him blind.

so now... you live in a nice apartment complex. a guy moves in next to you.

you can't help but notice he happens to be blind - at least, he's wearing a blindfold, uses a cane, but he's often swearing and stumbling through his porch, over his entryway. he is very, very blind.

you, wondering what the fuck up is with your obviously blind neighbor who seems to have no sense of self-preservation.

he walks into objects all the time, especially hitting his head on things, since he's so tall. forgets his cane when going out. the dude just left his door open the other day, like, WIDE OPEN, who DOES that?

helping gojo learn, not only how to be human, but how to be disabled. how to not be disgusted with being disabled.

gojo learning that being blind isn't the end of his life, nor the end of his happiness - life is still worth living, even without one of his senses.

helping gojo mourn his lost sense while still finding things to enjoy. gojo who learns to cook by taste, by feeling heat or texture, with your help. gojo learning to organize things so he always knows where they are from memory.

bringing gojo audiobook versions of your favorite stories even if he teases you for your taste. he listens to them when he has nothing to do, which is most of the time, now.

he goes out on walks all the time because he doesn't have a job, you learn. while it's nice to not have to work, you can tell he comes from money, his life comes with a gaping hole inside it, one that isn't entirely explained by the blindness.

gojo who's overstimulated all the time because he no longer has infinity as a barrier, but somehow also as touch-starved as ever, alone in a foreign country away from all his students and colleagues.

gojo, who has only ever done Big Things with his life, who has only ever been an Important Person doing world changing things, now, just an ordinary guy.

he barely cares what happens to himself now. it's not that he wants to die, or anything. it's just that he doesn't have a reason to live.

and that wouldn't change overnight. not with cooking lessons or audiobooks or friendly greetings whenever you see him by the door. not with smiles or waves (he can't see them) or a braille rubik's cube you find online (how did he solve it in under a minute??) or karaoke (he has an AMAZING singing voice, and he knows so many songs better than you do?).

it wouldn't change overnight, because nothing worthwhile forms in a day, or two, or even a week or a month.

but gojo's life doesn't have to be amazing a day after he's gone blind. or a week. or a month. it's okay if it's difficult, he learns, it's okay if he hates it, hates himself, hates every choice that brought him here, even if he would never take it back.

it's okay. it gets better. with you there? it's getting better.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hallo again! I am the one who asked about Val, it wasn't a request I was asking if you write for him so here we go!

Could it please be where reader is Valentino's son ( or just child if you don't write for male reader ) and Valentino can't find someone to trust-worthy to babysit his son so he just take him to work since reader is non-verbal anyway and won't be much of a bother?

So reader now comes regularly with him and see the other Vees as family. Perhaps Vox as another dad/uncle and Velvette as a big sister ( or any family role for them ).

Thank you for giving a look to my request!

Ooh! Right! Okay, okay. I can try this out. To be honest, Val is a monster but something tells me he wouldn’t be THAT bad with a kid of his own and yes, I do write male readers. Female, male, transgender, genderfluid(if that’s possible, idk how but I would do it anyway), nonbinary/GN! But anyways. Let’s try Val out as a dad!

Valentino- Silkworm Caterpillar

Everybody who knows the director of the Pentagram City’s Porn Industry, Valentino, is aware how much of a bastard he is; cruel, abusive, exploitative but nobody had ever suspected that he would actually one: have a son and two: treat that son better than he’s ever treated anybody, even his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox

Your dad’s an insufferable man-child but yet, he is actually pretty good with you. He doesn’t really like much things, other than you. He is awful but he feels kinda soft and fluffy whilst he is around you. You’re basically his soft spot

Valentino needs hugs and he will get them, no matter what may step in his path. You are non-verbal and mute so he cannot communicate with you properly, he just acts on his affections for you since he believes it’s fine

Valentino is that type of wingman-father. He always encourages you to get out of your comfort zone and boosts you up to look even better. He’s a close friend to you and you can hang out with him in casual settings where it almost seems like he is just your uncle, not your father

Valentino always offers to get you what you want, he is a father that spoils his seed rotten. Want a drink? He’ll get it. Want a phone? He’ll get it. Want more hugs? You’re getting them rather you want ‘em or not. He likes it when you smile and he does very much have favouritism towards you, where he almost never raises his voice to you

Valentino is actually protective, believe it or not and he is defensive over his son. Rather said son be above ten years old, he doesn’t trust a single being in Hell. Not anybody in Vees, not any under their luck bum he picks up for hire, not any one of his assistants. Nobody. He doesn’t ever want to leave you with somebody who can cause a threat

Valentino doesn’t really want to resort to this but after some more time. He decides to stop leaving you in the Vees Tower. You’re alone and you need him so he begins to bring you to his porn studios but what he does is that he glues you to other devices so you don’t have to be uncomfortable with watching pornography

Valentino is relatively soft and gentle. Even somebody as deranged and sick as him has a moment of love and affection and it’s in his son. He could be the most pissed off and at his absolute worse but when he is greeted by his offspring, he swallows back everything to be doting to you

Valentino calls you his silkworm because you’re a little caterpillar to him. He’s the moth, you’re his caterpillar and he’d pop you on his back and spread his wings for you if he had to. He enjoys your reaction of surprise and awe at his rather beautiful moth wings. He can understand where it comes from, it’s incredible. Isn’t it? He likes it when you’re proud of him or in awe of him

Valentino is aware of your deafness. You’ve been deaf since he had you… back in human life. Believe it or not, but he did and he actually cared to get you hearing aids but after you two died, he lost a hold of hearing aids and he has literally no other methods to help you

Valentino also much prefers you like the Vees themselves and the effort proves worth it since you end up viewing his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox as a stepfather and Velvette, their close friend, as a surrogate big sister. Valentino finds your point of views on his fellow rulers rather adorable and will playfully tease you about them

Valentino is learning sign language, since now of this time, sign language has been fully developed but he is struggling and his temper makes him go from trying to giving up to trying again. He’ll get there eventually, all for you

Valentino out here doing aggressive sign language and failing a whole lot

[canisalbus]

I love the shape language for Machete and Vasco, how angular and pointy the former is VS how round and soft the other... It's so GOOD I adore that

Thank you! I like the contrast as well, it makes them very fun to draw together. I try to keep them visually distinct while still making sure that they look harmonious and complementary next to each other.

[the-daiz]

#2— leap rewards

—Flufftober day 2: Rainy day (prompt extras)

Pairing; Speed-o’-sound Sonic x reader

Tags; Established relationship, corny, corny reader

Synopsis; Kisses, tenderness and cockiness.

✎Word count; 1.3k

♪ Playlist; Feenlayalik | فين لياليك

A/N; ew this is so cringy it’s killing me. One of the very few fluffs I’m writing, so eat well. I hope I didn't miss any typos woops

The rain, only a few lone droplets a moment ago, drizzled across the dark streets in a thunderous rhythm.

Your fingers curled tighter around the plastic bag in your hand, and you could do nothing but purse your lips as you watched the cruel misfortune cackle at you behind the glass of the convenience store.

It was midnight. Almost midnight, and you were restless, so you decided to simply head to the small familiar store to find something to eat in hopes of quenching your boredom.

Unfortunately for you, however, the night sky had hidden the clouds encasing the city, and who would bother checking the weather app for such an inconvenient outing?

You muttered a fleeting curse as you contemplated running all the way back to your apartment. You'd probably catch a cold, but what other choice did you have?

"Seriously? How do you always manage to get yourself into these situations?" The snarkiness laced in the individual's voice didn't go unnoticed by you, and you needn't glance to your side to know who the ominous figure— that seemingly materialized out of thin air, was.

"Of course I'd find you here." You sighed, masking the relief that had washed over you.

"I found you." His smirk stretched. "Actually."

"Yeah, ok, what are you doing here, anyway?" You finally turned your head to glance at him. The lights from the streets poured onto him with such great precision, even while being obstructed by the rain droplets racing down the glass tiles. He looked enchanting.

Speed-of-sound Sonic. What a name. What a face. Always so beautiful, always so alluring. Always keeping you ensnared in its bewitching existence. Always keeping you chasing after its beholder.

"Looking out for you. I had a feeling you'd get yourself into some kind of predicament." He glanced at you from the corners of his eyes, the smug turn in the corner of his lips never faltering.

"So you were stalking me?" You concluded.

"In a sense." He shrugged.

"How shameless." You shook your head, a smile slowly creeping up your features.

"Oh? So you don't need my help?" He raised a brow. "Save's me the trouble, then." He turns around, walking away, pretending that he's about to abandon you.

But knowing him, he would do it if he's feeling cocky enough.

As quickly as he does, though, you latch onto his arm. One hand faintly squeezed his while the other clasped onto his inner elbow. His brows rose and he blinked down at you with gleeful endearment.

His lips stretch to form a grin once more, but this time, it holds less arrogance than his previous one.

He feels a stretch of warmth pool into his chest as your palms press around the fabric of his sleeve.

The both of you fall silent, as the sound of pouring rain outside filters the quiet around you.

"What?" Sonic finally speaks as he stares at you.

"You know what." You roll your eyes with a grumble.

"Hmm, no I don't think I do."

"Does being a prick turn you on or something? Help me." As soon as those words flew past your lips, his hands were quick to carry you off your feet and into his arms. One of his arms supported the back of your knees while the other held you firmly by your back. You let out a soundless gasp at the sudden action.

You still hadn't gotten used to his speed.

"Sure. I won't do it for free, though." His smirk was back, but you had no time to retort as he was already soaring out of the shop and into the streets. The wind slammed into your curled frame along with a few spatters of rainwater. You scrunched your eyes closed and held your breath, your hands gripping tightly onto his sweater.

After a few seconds of wind constantly ramging into you and breath-knocking swerves, everything stills. You slowly pry your eyelids open, and you're met with the clean walls of your home. The lights were on. 

Did you forget to turn them off? or did he turn them on just now?

After blinking a few times while taking in a few deep breaths as your heart hammered from the sudden adrenaline rush, your gaze trailed up to his face. He was peering down at you, his grin faded and replaced with a stoic, serene look. He carefully set you down.

"How'd you get into my apartment?" You asked as you glanced at the closed and supposedly locked door of your home.

"You should be asking how I was able to carry you." There it was again, that snobbish look. He leered down at you with amusement, expecting you to push his face away with a scoff and head off to place the items you had purchased into the kitchen.

Instead, you stood unmoving before him, staring up at him with quiet fondness. Your fingers relaxed and a small thud was heard as the plastic bag fell, discarded on the floor. Your pupils moved to glance at each of his eyes, stammering as if unsure where to look. They both- He. Him. All of him was ineffable. 

His grin felt spindly.

The way your eyelids sat solemnly as you peered at him. And the sound of your inhales— he didn't know what it was but it was coiling around him, hindering his mobility, at least, his mental one.

Heat began to creep up his neck. He had to hold back the urge to dart his gaze away from yours, growing flustered under your fervent gleam. 

He continued to feign control, face flushed and sweating, and his mouth fell open into an empty gape, lips slightly twitching before he spoke.

"You're dying to taste me, aren't you?" His brows furrowed as he continued to forcefully stretch out his grin. Surely now you would've been tired of his stuck-up attitude. He expected a shove to his chest paired with an eye roll from you.

You cracked a soft smile instead. He felt a jolt ram into his chest when you slid your hands around his neck and hummed a nod, completely unfazed by his remarks. You pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. He squinted his right eye and frowned as you attacked the side of his face, pressing harder onto him before dramatically ending it with a prominent 'mwah' sound.

Your grin widened giddily at his expression, a mix of annoyance and stubbornness-- along with a faint cast of pink spreading to his ears. You closed the distance once more and engrossed yourself in a soft, fleeting kiss. He instinctively gripped your waist with a hand to steady you, his head tilting to the side as he contributed to your tender affection. He didn't like that it was fleeting, but he had no say as you broke the kiss and began to line pecks on the side of his lips.

"You're so sappy it's repulsing." He huffed, tugging you closer as his other hand gently pressed against your nape.

"Stop talking, you're ruining your face." You murmured before planting another kiss along his jawline.

"You don't have to talk to ruin yours." As soon as he riposted, he jerked your head to face his and pressed your lips together once more. Your eyes melted shut as you pushed further into him, your mouths swaying a passionate song, much different than his usual frantic ones. 

Your hands slipped to cup the sides of his face as you slightly deepened the kiss. In response, one of his arms wrapped around your torso, and euphoria coursed through him as he held you closer.

Faint panting hung in the air as you broke the kiss, looking into each other's eyes. You squashed his cheeks a little with your hands, flashing him a toothy grin. His face was still and adorned with bliss as he gazed into your grace.

"I'm not being serious." He breathed out, his features remaining placid. You snickered, your eyes squinting as your grin spread further.

Ugh, what the hell were you!?

"I know."

[quazkers]

Winding down and scurrying away from harsh days and work is easy to do with Diluc. He's always there for you, holding you when you're down, wiping away sorrowful tears, and reminding you how meaningful you are with soft actions. It's always best to treat him the same when he's at his down.

A door slammed open and the sounds of the thunderstorm entering the home alerted you. Rushing down the stairs you looked toward a darkened figure, a splotch of red hinting at who it was.

You quickly rushed to Diluc’s side, helping him take off his drenched coat. He’d hug you if he wasn't soaking wet from the rain.

You both stayed silent as you rushed Diluc toward the bedroom, a few small chuckles came from him as he found your tendency to worry about his health adorable.

Once he entered the bedroom you rushed off toward the bathroom that connected to the bedroom, quickly turning on the bath. As Diluc watched your figure leave toward the bathroom he couldn't help but let out a soft smile. He muttered a few words under his breath, chuckling to himself.

As you left the bathroom you tried your best to look away from Diluc. He was wrapped in a towel you had hurriedly gave him. "Hm? Nervous? Last time I recalled this isn't the first nor second time you seen me-" You quickly shoved a set of clothes in Diluc's arms before he could finish, pushing him toward the bathroom. He let out a laugh, enjoying your embarrassment.

As Diluc relaxed inside the bath, you quickly put his damped clothes in a basket, dropping them off inside the laundry room. You hurried back toward the bathroom, planning to help Diluc with washing his hair. Though he was capable of doing it himself, it must've been a rough day for him. It would be better for him to relax more than struggle with washing his hair.

You entered the bathroom, rolling up your sleeves. Diluc turned around, his back facing you. He had an idea on what you were gonna do. Taking the shampoo bottle you squirted some on your hand, quickly reaching over to Diluc's hair. He let out a sigh, enjoying the times when you would comb your hand through his hair. You hummed a small melody as you continue to wash his hair, massaging his head slowly. Though there were no words spoken, the silence brought peace to the both of you.

You always enjoyed the chances where he would melt under your touch. Letting his guard down around you so easily. You found it funny when people would explain the meaning and definition of peace at times. No long complicated sentences were needed to explain the simple word, when peace to you was Diluc.

𓂃 # NOT PROOF READ.

[fatuismooches]

Man I adore tormenting dottore as my love language :3

cw: kinda dark? zandik accidentally hurting us because he's hallucinating (IM NOT AN EXPERT I just think it's like. Very realistic if this were to happen)

Anyways, I like to think that Dottore came from a... Rather unpleasant home, and then especially burned his home town along with everyone who has cursed him (except for you ofc)

Still, the memories hasn't left him. It's not like he could, no matter how much he buries himself in his research. Zandik can't heal when he pretends that it's all fine and that dwelling into such emotions would be a waste of time. This proved to be more prominent during his younger days...

One day, I could just imagine, you come home to your shared dorm, all preppy and smiles because you're finally gonna spend time with the love of your life! Only to see absolute ruin of your dorm—everything was a mess, papers strewn every where, couch flipped, drops of his blood on the floor. You panic, wondering if the Matra finally raided your home to arrest Zandik, then you heard him yell—in your bedroom. You run towards it, frantically, and stupidly.

You should've assessed the situation more. Took a deep breath and calmed your mind—but you were striken with anxiety and fear, and when you shouted "what happened here!?" "What did you do!?" at him, you were quickly met with pain you've never felt before.

He had burned you with a torch, and now you're on the ground, writhing and screaming in hellish pain, cradling the parts of your body that was burnt to a crisp. You see him grinning at you, eyes full of satisfaction and malice.

You thought that this was what he wanted all along, that everything was a lie and he just used you for all your worth, and now that he has nothing to use you for, he has decided to kill you.

But you then hear him shout: "Are you proud of me? I've become the monster you've always told me that I am."

Quickly, you realize that he hadn't meant to hurt you.

The scars stayed, much to Zandik's dismay. After treating your injuries, he has resorted to ignoring you for the next couple of days, being mean and insulting you.

Just be patient with him, you know that he cares. And that he's absolutely crushed that he has hurt you, of all people. He didn't mean it, but now you've got painful scars that will ache for a life time, all because of him. All because he was stubborn to heed your concerns. He wanted to burn the past, he really did. To forget and move on. He hated his childhood so much that he's willing to just let it burn into ashes... But he didn't realize if he tried, he'd burn you along with it.

You see him open his mouth whenever he tends your healing wounds, but then close it, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. You see him read books all about treating burn wounds, cook you meals, ignoring his research all for you—his hands shook, eyes dark though glassy. You know he wants to apologize, but then his eyes goes to your scars, sucks in a deep breath, glares at you and walks away.

He's really doing his best to push you away

Zandik cares so much that he wants you to leave him, hate him, for being who he is, for being what he is. But no, you're smiling so softly and reassuring him that you're fine. That it's not his fault, that he didn't mean it.

And he'd yell he did mean it, that you were just lucky to survive (as if he hasn't lost sleep and progress on his research just to tend to you).

It wasn't his fault, you urged.

You remember it all vividly. Zandik knocking frantically at your home, houses ablaze behind him, his body littered with cuts and bruises. People were carrying torches and pitchforks, makeshift weapons and screaming at Zandik to just leave—and with out much thought, you grabbed as much as you could from your room and ran away with him.

You knew he finally snapped that day. Took matters in his own hands... He never talked much about it, but you could assume what happened. And you were certain he had confronted his parents before it all went to shit.

He wasn't trying to hurt you. He never did, and he would never want to hurt you. You were the exception and will always be, he would rather let the world cave in than letting you bleed by his hands. Zandik was lost in his thoughts, drowning in unpleasant memories and his eyes deceived him—he thought you were someone else, and he wanted to hurt them, not you.

JGJGOFHFJDSJS yeah that, he most definitely probably cry in your arms talking about how much he hates ur scars bc he gave them to you...

I would add more BUT IM LITERALLY IN CLASS AND MY PROFESSOR IS LECTURING HELP OKAY BYE SMOOCHES ILY /P HAVE A GOOD DAY CKCBXKCBDJ

Sorry for this I just like. Exploring struggles and menta shit KBcjcjc

MOOT WHAT IS THIS... WHY ARE YOU HURTING US LIKE THIS my JAW WAS DROPPED THE WHOLE TIME 😭😭 Okay but real. I have two hcs when it comes to Zandik's parents - they were the only ones who loved him but they died when he was really young, or they really just hated him. I've also heard others say "Zandik" can be used as an insult too? I don't know how true that is though. But yeah I think the latter is more likely to be true unfortunately 💔 Even if they were nice to him it wouldn't be enough to counter a whole town's worth of hatred towards him... yup yup the village definitely got burned down to the ground.

One would think that he wouldn't be affected. But he wasn't Dottore yet. He was merely Zandik at this point. He couldn't just shrug it off and go about his day. He pondered. He thought. He felt. He was still more human, more feeling than he wanted to admit, and he absolutely hated it. Still, he didn't regret it, but the memories would simply not leave his head. It was wholly bothersome. After all, not too long ago he was merely a little boy... a little boy who was deemed a monster, a demon child. All the people, even his own parents who accused him were gone now yet... their voices still rang clear in his head. And of course you had no clue, because Zandik would never speak about his feelings under any circumstance.

OUCHHHH HOW CAN I EVEN WRITE THE NEXT PART?? I CAN'T WRITE IT AS GOOD AS YOU oh gosh I WILL TRY. Ah... coming home to your shared dorm. Thinking it's going to be another regular, good day with you and your lover. But it's not, and when you see your home ransacked of course the first thing that goes through your mind is if your Zandik is okay. Of course you you rush to him and beckon him to tell you what happened as anyone would do. Of course you try to reach out to him. And of course, you didn't expect to be licked with flames by your lover's own hand, not only is your body crying out in pain but so is your heart - did Zandik really not care for you after all of these years? The only one who you treasured above all else... perhaps he never viewed you more than a pawn. But then you hear those few words that make you realize what's truly going on - ah, you understand now.

The logical part of Zandik knew that the scars would remain, but the illogical part of him hoped (to think he was even capable of that) badly that they wouldn't. You wonder what his expression was when he was tending to your wounds - you were asleep at the time - but even if you had seen it you probably wouldn't be able to put it into words... it was expressionless yet also not at the same time. He looked empty, and unfeeling, yet he looked the opposite too. And perhaps you wouldn't believe how tenderly he treated your wounds, from the way he's giving you the cold shoulder now. You wouldn't know the way his hands shook the whole time because he did that to you. The one person who would never, who should have never faced his anger, his wrath. It's all his fault, there's no denying that, he hurt you and now you're going to be hurting for the rest of your life too. The last person, no the only person who he doesn't want to see hurt.

Even now, Zandik doesn't understand you. How the fuck are you more calm about this than he is. He hurt you. He burnt you and he meant it and yet in the aftermath, there's not a hint of resentment on your face and he doesn't understand - he hates it so much, you should hate him, in fact it'd make him feel better if you did because how can you even begin to like him a tiny bit after what he's just done, he's claimed to love you and even in that twisted mind of his he knows that's not what lovers do. He doesn't understand why you haven't packed your bags and moved to another dorm by now, hell why do you try to usher him to bed because "lack of sleep is bad for him" what actually goes through your mind...? What went through your mind when you decided to leave with him too? The villagers weren't after you, just him, you could have had a normal life, but you still decided to go with him... you two had no plan, no money, no real necessities but you gave up everything for him anyway. Sigh...

Ouch... i feel like at some point you would just accept your scars but Zandik? Haunts him more than he wants to admit. Don't get me wrong he still thinks you're beautiful but... you know what I mean. Mhm... imagine the child segment asking you where/how you got the scars from and at the moment you make up the most ridiculous lie because that's all your brain can think of because there's no way you're telling the baby that Prime did it. Oh and the angst if Dottore hears that convo :(

Okay... moving on from that angst... PLS You're hella brave for being on tumblr in class, I'm too scared to open it or write fics in general in fear of someone seeing 😭 Once I accidentally opened my blog on my laptop and I closed the tab at LIGHT SPEED. ILY TOO KAI I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL!! ❤️❤️❤️

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Cuhut it out- you guys!" "Nu-uh, not until you're all perked up first! You don't want those gym challengers meetin' with an ol' mopey leader, do ya?" "Whitney's right, dear friend. No need to hide that beautiful smile of yours, alright?~"

What it takes to cheer up Johto's beloved ghost boy 👻💕

[whimsicorner]

still thinking about arknights naruto gang but in a bit of a struggle buggy in that I'm not particularly fashionable and not sure what kind of outfit I would put the lad in HAHA, Izuna canon outfit is nice and simple but I was like if he has access to modern clothing we might as well play dress up...something to ponder. Also trying to grasp how liberi hair feathers go......I don't know....I think it's the 'don't worry about it' principle

doodle looked cute tho so I cleaned it up a bit. floating heads again.

[malulurivers]

birdsong trickled through the window much like the morning sun. you groaned, burying your face into your blankets. still hazy with sleep, you felt the hand flung over your waist shift as warmth enveloped your back.

breath tickled your neck as Link wished you a good morning, pressing a trinity of kisses into the bare skin of your shoulder. you hummed, lethargically tracing his arm in soothing circles.

his legs were entwined with yours, blankets lost to your side of the bed. and so he melded with you, hiding from the sun and the real world that came with it.

☾ ₊ ˚ ✩ ˚ ｡ ☽

masterlist | buy me a hot chocolate <3

[talknerdytome18]

That feeling to write a fluffy Seblos oneshot is consuming me right now but the problem is that I've been pure angst since I started writing so writing fluff is impossible for me 😭

Seblos stans, I promise that I will write a fluffy oneshot because I feel bad for massacring Carlos's character in my current fanfic series. I stan Carlos Rodriguez and just want to write a fluffy piece to make up for destroying Seblos like s4 did.

[candyriku]

finally getting a chance to work on chapter 15 today :-)

[natasha-in-space]

hii!! can I request something like going somewhere nice for dinner with saeyoung and going back to the apartment? I imagine that they'll end up having a nice talk and I love reading the way you write meaningful talks in your writing it makes me giggle so much I can't 🥺

"Hey, don't stress so much! There's really no need to overthink this, sweetheart. You could take me out to a McDonald's joint down the street, and I'd still be super happy to spend time with you."

You put your hand on Saeyoung's shoulder from your passenger seat in one of his most fancy looking babies, patting down the soft fabric of his sharp suit in an attempt to reassure him with your warm touch. While you were, without a doubt, flattered by him putting this much effort into your first proper date together, you were kind of starting to worry that he was way too occupied by the idea of making it a 'perfect' date and not what really mattered at the end of the day. He did have a tendency to be too hard on himself at times, after all.

Being treated to an expensive restaurant sounded lovely, you couldn't deny that, but it's not like you need any of that glitz and glam to feel satisfied.

You went through thick and thin by each other's side, there was not a slimer of doubt inside of your heart that he was the one who you wanted to eventually grow old with.

"Thank you." Saeyoung gave out a nervous chuckle, clearly trying to play it off like this wasn't a big deal to him. Though, you could see how tightly he was squeezing the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from way too much pressure put on them. "B-But hey! No deep and heavy topics for today! We've been together for months now, but with the whole 'saving my lost family and taking down an evil underground organization' shenanigans, we've never had time to go out on a proper date before... And you deserve better than that. I want today to be all about you, Y/N. If you let me."

Stopping at the red light, he took this small opportunity to put his own hand on top of yours, bringing it up to his lips to give your knuckles a light kiss. You pursed your lips into a thin line, still not liking where he was going with all this. There was no need in treating you like some royalty for him to serve and please. You just wanted to spend some meaningful time together and relax... not be spoiled by costly food and fancy atmosphere for a couple of hours.

Then again... this was clearly very important to him. He was planning this date of yours for weeks now. You kind of felt bad for wanting to call this off so quickly, without even giving him a chance. Maybe, you should just see where this whole thing goes. And if things really do turn south in the process... you can take it from there.

Feeling satisfied with your final conclusion, you smiled, reaching forward and chastely kissing him on a cheek. "Alright, Casanova, you officially won me over. Just please remember that any time we spend together is precious to me. I love you."

"Love you too, starshine." While he couldn't turn to look at you properly, your eyes met through a rear-view mirror, as he gave you a tender smile, squeezing your hand in his own for a couple of lingering moments before he had to let go in order to focus on the road ahead.

~~~~~~~

You could see that he was upset, even if he was stubbornly trying to hide it from you all the way back to the bunker. In the end, the date by itself went smoothly and peacefully, leaving you feeling perfectly satisfied by the time that you two had to leave an elegant establishment located right at the center of Seoul.

Though, Saeyoung, clearly, couldn't share the same sentiment.

Sure, maybe the waiter messed up your tables and some stuffy old man sitting on the other side of the room thought that you were laughing too loud for his liking, thus making a complaint that you two eventually had to deal with, but it's not like that means that the date was a failure! You still had a very good time, and enjoying a chance to try out some high class food with Saeyoung by your side was a treat in and of itself. Not because of the food itself, but his company that went along with it.

In the end, you were right when you wondered whether or not Saeyoung was putting way too much pressure on himself to make this date of yours 'perfect'. You could practically see nasty thoughts gnawing away at him like a swarm of tiny parasites as he drove you back home, guiltily avoiding your worried gaze, like he did something wrong. Still, you decided to wait until you were both back home to start up this conversation.

"Who knew it would start pouring the minute we get out of the car, eh? Now you're all soaked. Like a huge grumpy kitty!" You giggled, ruffling up his red hair on purpose with your towel, as you sat kneeling on the bed, trying to dry each other off. Well, more like you drying him off. Your boyfriend was looking more and more gloomy by the minute, and frankly, you were not having it. With one short sigh falling from your lips, you shifted closer to him until you knees bumped into each other, gently cupping his cheeks and prompting him to look in the eye at last.

"Saeyoung, seriously, what's wrong? There's obviously something bothering you, and I need to know what it is. Come on, I hate seeing you like this..."

In reality, you already knew the likely root of his problem, you just needed him to finally admit it not only to you, but to himself as well. You didn't want to out him like this when he might not be ready to do that yet.

Saeyoung chewed on his bottom lip, clearly doing everything he possibly can not to run away from this topic completely. You appreciated his efforts, merely caressing the damp skin of his cheek with your thumb and giving him time to come up with a proper response. Finally, he gave up, dropping his eyes to the ground and slouching his shoulders.

"Are you... really okay with how this date went? There's no need to sugarcoat anything for me, you know. I... don't understand how you can be so bright and happy when so many things have gone wrong for us. I thought I made a mental note of every possible scenario, and from what angle I should approach it to make everything perfect but- When it came down to it, I couldn't do anything." He sounded almost ashamed of himself, keeping his voice low and bringing his brows together into a dark frown, one that you were not pleased to see at all. This really was bothering him...

Still, it's a good thing that he opened up to you about this issue, instead of bottling it up as he sometimes did.

So, you treated him with compassion, lightly brushing your lips on the tip of his nose to bring back his attention to you, rather than let him continue focusing on those ugly thoughts inside his own head. "Saeyoung, what in the world are you talking about...? Of course I'm okay with how our date went! I'm more than okay. I told you, just spending time with you makes me the happiest I can be. It was fun to laugh at these stupid mishaps with you and try to figure out the names of the dishes. I love you, silly. I don't care about some spiteful old man grumbling about me laughing when you're right next to me. I don't need 'perfect', I need you, you big goof. You're already perfect in my eyes, no fancy restaurant can compete with that."

He stared at you, eyes wide open, like a deer caught in the headlights, as his cheeks were slowly turning into a deep shade of red, only making you smile further at the sight. God, it was such a relief to finally get this off your chest!

"So... You... are not upset? I just- I think that you deserve all of the best, and-"

Before he could continue this line of thought, you shushed with a delicate kiss to his lips, lingering on his skin just long enough for him to relax into your touch, letting some of the tension finally ease up out of his body. Slowly pulling away from him, you left a trail of butterflies kisses down his jaw, making him shiver under your affections, clutching onto the bedsheets under you. "You are the best, Saeyoung. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and no date can ever beat that. This date was perfectly imperfect, and I will treasure this memory forever. So don't talk to yourself like that, okay?"

Before you could pull away from him completely, you felt his hand gently grab you by the wrist, tugging you into him and making your forehead bump into his chest, as you tried to blink away your confusion.

"Uh, Saeyoung...?"

Being this close to him, you could hear his heart hammer away right under your ear. It was fast, really fast, actually. Was he nervous? Embarrassed? Scared?

Either way, soon a pair of strong arms pulled you closer, holding onto you tightly as you two easily fell back onto the soft bed with you now laying on top of him. Glancing up at his face from your comfy position on his chest, you were met with flushed cheeks almost the colour of his hair and glossy amber eyes looking down at you like you're the most beautiful creature in this whole entire universe. Or, maybe, you were projecting.

Because that's how he looked to you right now.

It took you some time to register the next few words he mumbled to you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair. "Then... If what you're saying is really true, does a date in my garage sound good to you? To be honest, this was my first idea, before I got carried away with the whole 'proper date' idea. Is it not too boring to you?"

"God, I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at him, gently flicking him on the forehead with a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "That sounds amazing. And hey, I know practically nothing about cars so it'll be like an adventure into the unknown!"

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 9. Moral Support

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,080

Patience picked up her glass, took a gulp and immediately spluttered.

“Are you all right?” asked Nathan, giving her a look of concern.

“Fine,” she sputtered, mopping herself up. “I thought it wasn’t alcohol.” She eyed the glass with some trepidation.

“It’s only a very low percentage,” he said. “I swear I told you about it—”

“You did,” she recollected. “I just forgot. Looks like straight juice. I was distracted.”

“By my charming conversation?” he asked, taking a judicious sip of his own.

“Something like that.” She dabbed ineffectually at the stain on her shirt, then shrugged. “Ah, well. It’ll wash.”

“It looks nice on you anyway,” Nathan informed her, and Patience looked suitably awkward.

“Thanks,” she said at last. She never knew how to respond to compliments.

“You do look awfully nice in that kind of light blue,” he added guilelessly. “But look, if alcohol is a problem, I won’t order it next time.”

“You checked with me beforehand,” she said. “So it’s fine. But maybe not, yeah. I’m going to forget, and it’s not a flavour I particularly prioritise.”

“My apologies,” he said soberly. “It’s very little, too, so it shouldn’t have any problems with how much we have, unless we have significantly more than we currently have.”

“I certainly won’t,” she said instantly. “That would be stupid.” She leaned forwards then, and said, “What do you think about excessive consumption of alcohol? As in, to drunkenness?”

“It’s wrong,” he said immediately. “That’s my opinion. To drink to excess is wrong. But then again—I mean, I can’t talk. I have a history of self harming, which is hardly what God wants either.”

She sighed. “And how’s that going?” Patience asked, diverting the subject. She made eye contact, and Nathan did not look away.

He sighed in response. “Not great.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I haven’t actually relapsed. But it’s harder to ignore again. It just—I keep thinking about it, even when I don’t expect to. There’s no reason; I’m not coming up to something particularly stressful or anything like that. It just keeps coming up, and I—I’m scared, Patience.” Now he looked away, fidgeting with his glass. “I’m scared it’ll come to a point at which I can’t ignore it. I’m scared to undo all the progress I’ve made so far. I feel so awful about it.” He took a gulp from his glass, and wiped his mouth vigorously.

“It won’t undo your progress,” said Patience, as gently as she knew how. She put her hand on his, on the hand which when she looked closely she saw several very pale, very fine scarred lines, and squeezed it gently. “You’ve still got that progress, no matter what happens next. And you’re—you’re trying, Nathan. Surely that counts for something?”

“I don’t know,” he said, with a helpless little shrug. “I have no idea if that counts. It doesn’t feel like it.”

“How long have you been clean at this point?” she asked, feeling like she was in a deep sea with no way out. She was drowning, trying her best to throw a life preserver to her fellow drowning person.

“Three months.” Nathan removed his hand from hers and rubbed his other arm, where a single, large scar disfigured the otherwise flawless skin. “Three months and one day. But if I break it someday—the way things are going I don’t think I’ll get to four months. I really thought I was healed of it, Patience. I really did.”

“I know,” she said, though she didn’t know at all. “And it—that sucks, that sucks so bad, and I don’t know what I can say, but I do want you to know that I love you all the same, despite all this. I hope that helps. Can I do anything to help?”

“Keep on loving me,” he said, in a voice hoarse with grief. “Keep on loving me, my Patience. Please.”

“God being with us both, I will,” she promised him. “Whatever I can do to help you, I will. I’d do anything.”

“There are some things you should never do,” he said flatly. “Never, Patience. Not ever.”

She didn’t ask what. She could see it in his eyes. If his choices were what caused her to follow him down that path, she thought it might break his heart.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, eventually. “And whatever I can do for you, I’ll do. I’d sneak out of my room at midnight for you, if it would help.” It drew a surprised laugh from him, and a frisson of triumph flashed through her. “You would? Wouldn’t your parents be mad at you?”

“Only if they knew.” She ignored the fact that he’d said parents, automatically, though only one parent lived in their home. “And besides, I’m sure Mum would be fine with it if I told her, if there was some reason.”

“Not needing a chaperone?”

“I can always rouse Rhona, if that’s what I need.”

“I would have thought she’d be too much on the side of give me my sleep and don’t get in the way of my sleep, though.”

Patience laughed. “She’s not, actually. She has a lot more bark than bite. I love her.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “Is it diplomatic to agree with you and say I love her too?”

“Of course—she’s very loveable. Just so long as you don’t love her more than me.”

He smiled. “Never, my love. I love you above everyone else. Your hair is like a flock of goats.”

Patience touched the strands around her shoulders, which were unfortunately frizzy today, and sighed.

“—That was a joke—”

“Next time you quote Song of Solomon at me, please make sure it isn’t so realistic….”

“I’ll try,” he agreed. Then he looked at her, deeply, into her eyes, and said, “Patience? Thank you.”

“For what?” She hadn’t done anything.

“For everything: for sticking by me when I don’t feel like I should be stuck by.”

“I’ll stick by you for as long as we both live, if God wills it.”

“That’s all I ask.” He got up, rounded the table, gave her a hasty hug and returned to his seat. Patience patted at the stain on her front again, self-consciously.

“I’m glad you’re around,” she told him honestly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re very precious to me.”

Nathan smiled, looking down through apparent embarrassment. At that warm, opportune moment, their food arrived.

Tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun@graycedelfin@pilgrimsofworship and @choasuqeen