#i have never felt so fandom old in my life

[emometalhead]

.

[deebris]

The Misteryous Visitor 4

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.

Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.

Word count: 3.7k

Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.

"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.

When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.

"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.

"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.

"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.

"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.

"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch Y/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.

"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."

"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.

The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.

"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.

"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"

"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.

Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.

Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?

He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like they. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.

Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.

"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.

"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.

Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.

The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.

The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.

Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.

He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.

Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.

In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.

He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.

He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.

"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.

"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say: 

"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better. 

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”

You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”

“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.

“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.

“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.

“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.

“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.

Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”

Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”

Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.

But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”

“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.

“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “Y/n, what did he tell you?”

He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”

“Which corner?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”

“Did he have a police car nearby?”

“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”

“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.

“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. Were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”

“It was not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”

“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.

“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”

“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.

Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.

“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.

“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.

He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?

He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.

“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.

“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.

“Where do I find him?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:

“Y/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”

He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.

“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.

“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.

Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.

He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.

Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.

“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.

“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”

This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.

“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”

“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.

Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, as she wrapped your smaller body than hers in a tight hug.

She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.

‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.

‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.

‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.

The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:

‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.

‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.

He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.

‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"

Tag list:

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@an-introverted-nishinoyasimp @ellie-x0xo @blkmystery

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stitched Together

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so... ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn't seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky's nurse whenever he gets hurt.

A/N: Based off my mini fic here.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You were used to it by now. In the morning, you'd go into work at the hospital. The pediatrics unit was filled with light and color. You made sure to bring as much joy and light into the lives of the children you helped every day. Then when you came home, you'd do work for the darker side of life.

Bucky Barnes was born for this life. Being the first born son of George Barnes, the position of head of the Barnes Family was immediately his.

But growing up he didn't act like that life was for him. You would know since you two knew each other since you were thirteen. You grew up in the same neighborhood. It wasn't until you turned sixteen that you started dating. You knew who his father was, your own dad knew who his family was. As a detective, he told you time and time again that you needed to stay away from him. Being a hormonal and rebellious teenager, you never listened. You should've.

At eighteen years old was when Bucky killed for the first time. Because he was now a man, his father put him up in a cage fight with another man. It was kill or be killed.

He wasn't the same after. He began to push you away, keep things from you, act like a complete asshole.

Then enough was enough. You broke up with him and even though he hurt you, you never told your father the things Bucky told you. Especially after your father became the chief of police.

You two were ignorant with the roles you had to play in your youth, but reality hit you right when you became adults. You became the dutiful daughter of the chief of police, went to university to become a nurse. You stopped keeping track of Bucky's life, but would hear updates along the grapevine every once in a while.

You were there when George Barnes passed. Well, not necessarily in the room, but you were at the hospital when he passed. You were coming up from your break when you saw Bucky at the elevators. He looked upset.

"Bucky?"

He turned at the sound of his name, "Sw-Y/N. Hey."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, my dad. He-He had a heart attack. I'm-He-" you could see how distressed he was, so you pulled him in for a hug.

"Whatever happens, you'll be okay," you whispered in his ear.

He fell limp in your arms. You didn't know it then, but Bucky missed you like crazy and being in your arms again that night saved him from spiraling.

It's later that night that George Barnes dies. After everything he's done and been through, a heart attack was what killed him.

Karma, is what your dad said.

Despite the position George Barnes held, he was well-loved around the city due to him caring for the community. The streets were filled during the procession, your dad and his men keeping an eye out in case anything happened. You were also there for the funeral. You caught glimpse of Bucky and you couldn't breathe for a moment. He was clearly tired and you couldn't blame him, considering how things have been going for him lately.

Despite your father warning you to not make contact with him, you felt like you should.

"I'm sorry, again for your loss, Buck."

He gives you a tired smile, "Thank you again for showing up, Y/N. I-I know your dad probably didn't want you to come."

"He doesn't control every aspect of my life."

"Still. I really appreciate you being here."

"Of course. It's always hard when you lose someone you love." You would know since you lost your mother when you were young.

"Bucky," Sam, Bucky's right hand, calls his name and urges him to follow him.

"I gotta-"

"It's okay. Hope things aren't too stressful for you."

"Thank you. I'll see you around," he says as he departs. You didn't know just how soon you'd end up seeing him.

Three days later, to be exact.

It was late at night when there was a knock at your door. You hold your knife close as you peer through the peep hole of your door. Your eyes widen when you immediately pull the door open.

"Holy shit!" you whisper loudly as Sam drags a bleeding Bucky into your home.

"He didn't want to go to the hospital since we don't know whose people might be working there. So he told me to bring him here."

You guide Sam to your couch where Bucky slumps onto it, "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know who else to trust right now." You turn on all the nights in your apartment and get a look at him. There's a stab wound in his shoulder. It looks like the bleeding slowed though.

You help Bucky out of his jacket and shirt. You apologize profusely for the pain he's going through.

He dryly chuckles, "You know, when I dreamt about you stripping me, I didn't think it'd be in this context."

You pause and look at him, "You dream about me?"

"You haunt my mind, Y/N." He must be delusional due to the blood loss. Before his father's passing, you hadn't seen nor spoke to him in years. There's no way he'd still be thinking about you after all this time, right?

"I'll be back. I need to grab my first aid kit." You rush to your bathroom and grab the small duffle of all your first aid necessities.

You also grab a bottle of vodka and hand it to Bucky, "Drink up, buttercup."

He frowns and looks at the bottle, "Thought you hated vodka."

"It's not my bottle. America left it from a party I held here," you mumble as you pull on some gloves and begin to clean around his wound. You work in silence as Bucky takes swigs from the bottle. Sam watches from the corner of the room, staying out of your way.

While you work, Bucky takes in your apartment. He takes in the pictures, the decor, the trinkets you have around. This is exactly how he'd imagine your place to be.

"Hey, still with me?" you ask as you begin to thread your needle.

"Yup."

"Okay. This might hurt-"

"Probably not as much as getting stabbed."

You can't help but snort a laugh as you get ready to start stitching Bucky's wound. He grins at the sound of your laughter and you see the sliver the Bucky you once knew.

For the most part, Bucky didn't make much of a sound while you worked. He just kept his eyes on you, taking in every furrowed brow, every twitch of your lip. After all these years, you are still just as beautiful as before.

His heart lurches at what's become of you two. You're practically strangers again after spending so many years apart. His own doing really.

Scared of what could happen to you as he fell deeper into the family business. That's why he behaved the way that he did all those years ago. He was protecting you.

Because after all this time, Bucky Barnes still loves you.

"Alright. We're done. How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," he mumbles as he tries to sit up, but you keep him down.

"Then sleep. You and your bodyguard can stay here for the night."

The man in the corner snorts, "My name's Sam and I am not his bodyguard."

"Sorry, Sam, you and Bucky are free to sleep here for the night." Sam simply nods.

"You don't have to do this. If your dad finds out-"

"He won't. I won't tell him. And you're hurt, Bucky. Doesn't matter what you do or who you are, I can't, in good conscience, let you leave without knowing you'll be okay after this. Just-Just take this as me wanting to observe my patient for the night."

He settles further onto your couch with defeat, "Alright...you know you should've been a doctor."

"Didn't have the time or money to get my doctorate."

"I can help with the money-"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Buck. I'm happy with my job."

"Just..if you need anything, I'm here to help. That's what my dad for the people of this city and that's what I want to continue to do."

"I know. Thanks."

You stand, collecting your things, "I have some spare blankets, pillows, and toiletries. Lemme grab them."

"Okay," he says and watches as you walk to your bedroom.

Sam moves closer, "So that's her."

"Yeah."

"She's nice."

"Yup."

"And beautiful."

Bucky whips his head to Sam, glaring at him, "Watch it."

Sam holds his hands up, "I can appreciate a beautiful face, man. Besides, she's not yours anymore."

"You know how I feel about her."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sam says as he plops onto your sofa chair.

You come back with pillows and blankets in arms, "The couch is a pull out, soooo you two will have to share."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

You snicker, "Okaaay, uh, I have a couch in my room that one of you can take too."

Sam and Bucky look at each other and Sam immediately goes, "I call this bed!" he points to the couch that Bucky's laying on.

Bucky rolls his eyes and you chuckle, "Actually, I think I'd rather have you near me, Bucky, just in case you pull a stitch or start feeling pain again."

"If you're okay with that," he says with a shrug.

"It'll be fine," you respond as you help him sit up and then help him to his feet. He follows you to your bedroom where you show him the couch. You point to the adjoining bathroom, you can take a shower there. I already set out stuff for you and Sam."

"Thanks, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."

"Just doing my civic duty, Buck," you say with a small smile.

He clears his throat, "Yeah. Right. Of course."

"Oh!" you grab a pile of clothes and hold them out, "Here. They're my dad's for some of the nights he stays over."

Bucky can't help but snicker, "If your dad knew-"

"I know," you say with a playful roll of his eyes, "But he's not here and he won't ever know I'm helping you. So go, shower, be careful around your stiches. Call me if you need anything," you turn to set up Bucky's sleeping arrangement, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you ask when you face him again.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes as he murmurs, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Go. Wash all that blood off you."

"Alright," he says and grabs the clothes, going into your bathroom. When the door shuts, you fall onto your bed to give yourself a moment.

A few days ago, you went years without seeing or hearing from Bucky. Now you've seen him twice in less than a week and it's throwing your mind in for a loop.

Hopefully, this will only be a one time thing and you two can go back to being strangers again.

[queers-gambit]

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to (or at least should) suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. As the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Or, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Or... to deserve Crowley. Some people also want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen now.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. First of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid, unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years I will be here without him I expect.

[banquetwriter]

i love the way you write viktor sm sm 🫡 if you feel up to it, id love to see some more of your domestic headcanons! also, do you think either viktor's partner and jayce get jealous of each other? lmao i like imagining a silent passive aggression n rivalry between anyone dating viktor and jayce.

keep up the great work!!!!

AN: AHH ONG THANK YOU 🙏 i’m new to the arcane fandom + writing viktor so i feared my depiction of him was super ooc so im glad people like it haha

now i don’t think jayce would hate you or anything, but he would certainly be weary… since i am an avid jayvik shipper and he is def in love w/ his “partner” he would ofc be upset he is with someone else !

however however he isn’t down right mean to you. being blunt with you, dismissing what you say and asking viktor if he is sure about you is the most he would go

that is if you treated viktor good if you treated him bad (which idk why you would) oh boy you’d have a whole can of whoopass coming to be delivered

using his counselor powers he’d def make sure your life sucks lmfao 😭😭

however once you prove that you really do love viktor with your entire heart and your nothing but kind to jayce im sure after a while he will have to face the reality that your not going away and also he actually kinda likes you

you can keep up with all the hextech shit and no matter what always care about viktor and cmon what else can ask for?

as far as you being jealous i’m sure you would even if you aren’t to typically get jealous. it’s clear not only in his words but his whole life viktor loves jayce even if it isn’t romantic anymore (cuz ur there duh)

at first you were super confused why his lab “partner” was lowkey a bitch to you. you understood viktor has pretty much no romantic experience and he’s probably just looking out for his friend

it wouldn’t be until jayce has finally warmed up to you and shared some old story of him and viktor that you would understand that he loved him. like loved him loved him it wasn’t just platonic

“oh y/n! i am almost done with my work for today, just give me a second and i’ll be right out!” viktor said removing an (honestly) goofy looking pair of goggles he was using to make small adjustments to a project he was working on.

“take your time!” you chime as viktor hobbles away with his cane. you are left alone with jayce waiting for your love to be done. you turn to jayce and with a polite smile you nod to him.

jayce nods back not meeting your eye. after a moment jayce sighs. “you know he never used to leave this much until you showed up.” jayce said with a small sad smile. you smile down at your feet. “yes i’m well aware he loves to tell me how much he has a work i can only assume it consumed his whole life” you admit.

jayce looks down before speaking again, “usually it was me pulling him out of his work. forcing him to eat, sleep whatever it was.” jayce sighs almost defeated.

you smile again, brighter this time. “he also told me that.” you say. jayce chuckles before rubbing his hand against his jaw. “you know sometimes it felt like a loosing battle to get him to take care of himself. it still is. i never gave up because he was my- still is my everything.” jayce admits.

his confession lays heavy in the air. realization hits of what exactly he means. your face falls realizing how much it must hurt to be around you. before you can’t speak you hear viktor walking out of wherever he went.

“oh! you two are talking, how nice.” viktor teases as he walks up to you. you shake your head with a smile. “you go ahead i’ll be right behind you.” viktor smiles with a curious expression but leaves you alone with jayce.

you flung your arms around the man. jayce stumbles back confused but eventually hugs you back. “thank you.” was all you whispered to him before leaving returning side by side with viktor. “what were you two discussing?” he asks not meeting your eyes.

“we were plotting evil against you.” you say with a small smile, viktor only rolls his eyes.

anyways to conclude that i think like you said it’s a silent sort of one sided beef on jayce’s part but eventually it ends (for the most part lol)

as far as what viktor feelings on the matter he can obviously tell it’s strained between you too but reassures both of you that either one of you just want the best for him

he does not like conflict and def gets anxious when both of yall share the same space.

however a small (teeny tiny) part of him is grateful. he hasn’t ever had many people in his life let alone two people (almost) fighting over him, but again a small part he is mostly anxious

as far as domestic stuff goes he def lets you fidget with his fingers. in private ofc. you slowly massage his fingers when your concentrating on something and while he pretends he is reading the page hasn’t been turned in the last 5 minutes because he is solely focus on you

you become his whole world and god he cannot get over how you are his. or that he is yours! i’ve talked a lot about how you take care of him which is true

you help him with his brace, cooking, cleaning all the normal life stuff but something i haven’t touched too much on his how he takes care of you

just because he is disabled does not mean he is weak by any means. he always always always makes sure the house and you are at the perfect tempature.

he will braid small chunks in your hair if it’s long enough, he’ll get your toothbrush ready for you, make sure to have all of your favorite things at the house

takes advantage of piltover’s plentiful arts and brings home things of your interest.

i’m a firm believer that viktor looks like an old man when he sleeps with a long shirt and long pants, which is cute till he radiates heat like a damn furnace at night

you resort to sleeping in just a shirt and underwear. which drives viktor a tad wild. seeing you shuffle out of bed and your ass is already out? he is in heaven.

if you do not have a loving family let’s pretend for a second you do (bc same bestie same) and picture viktor getting personally invited to the holidays by your father.

he’s never been so nervous and excited. i’m not sure what holidays exactly but something that required the whole family which includes him.

he of course is overwhelmed at how many people there are. you eventually leave him to fend for himself when your family needs you to help prepare something

he is terrified but when you come back he is getting his ear talked off by one of your baby cousins. so all is well.

he is mostly scared of being judged by your family (and in this head cannon they never would) but to his shock he is accepted! just like how you accepted him.

your family just like you never ever once made him feel bad for his disability or his appearance or anything ever !

domestic life has not been common for viktor but now that he has you, you have fought for it to be his every day

[meyhew]

“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”

I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.

Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.

All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.

One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.

Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.

Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.

Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3

Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.

If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.

I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.

This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.

Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍

—————

tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone

@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt

[eetherealgoddess]

Hii I’m not sure if you still take requests but if you do can you pleaseee write a story where a fem reader is working for bonten and her and the executives get assigned to k1ll this lady and her family that owes them money but the reader ends up feeling bad and she asks them to spare her but they say no and they don’t really care and they k1ll the family anyway and the reader is starting to realize that she doesn’t want to be in bonten anymore so she asks Mikey if she can quit and he tells her no and if she tries to run he will send the executives to punish her but she tired to run anyway and it ends up with a smut with Mikey and the other executives including kazutora. I hope I explained it right and if you do write it Tysmmm and I love all your work💋💋💋

ꨄNewfound Moralsꨄ

Oneshot - Dark Content - Bonten

❦You should’ve never joined them in the first place❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, Kokonoi Hajime, and Haitani Brothers x Female Reader

❣︎I really hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna add a few lil twists to your request❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩Characters are 18+ as always.

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Newfound Morals

You don’t understand why you tried so hard to be promoted within the industry you signed up for. Honestly, working a regular job wasn’t that bad. As a people pleaser, you’ve always strived for perfection in order to receive the validation you crave. Unfortunately for people like you, opportunists loved to drink all the liquid from your glass without even filling it up halfway in return. You’ve never received what you felt you deserved for the time and effort you put into any craft or job you worked on. That’s why when you found the underground, illegal business through an old friend, you hopped on it immediately.

Who knew that the tense atmosphere of working for an illegal business would actually make you feel that excitement you craved? The fulfillment you craved, the recognition you asked for, all being solved each and every time you complete a task. The financial security you had always felt you deserved finally being handed to you. You honestly felt blessed. Blessed that Kokonoi Hajime, the man who you’d known most of your young adult life, had offered you this opportunity of fulfillment. You knew that you had to prove you were trustworthy and so you worked under him for a couple years before you were finally promoted to take action.

You didn’t know you could feel whole just by killing a bunch of useless individuals. The proud look on Koko’s face for recruiting someone like you, the pat on the back you received from Kakucho after your first successful mission, the sly compliments from the Haitani brothers, and the toast from Kazutora when he offered alcohol at the club to celebrate. Even receiving a pat on the head from Akashi Takeomi and a nod from Kanji Mochizuki. It felt great.

It was hard to get any other reaction from a sober Sanzu considering his sole focus on your boss, Mikey, but you knew there was progress when he’d offer you a pill for the first time in one of the Haitani brother’s clubs. You hadn’t accepted but the gesture was appreciated. Sano Manjiro never seemed to have any other expression on his face but an intense gaze full of nothing but pure darkness and despair. Though, his promotion of your department was a good sign. In a twisted way you finally felt seen by the higher ups.

All the kills had been super easy considering most if not all were some kind of conmen or had been involved with underground illegal shit that they couldn’t handle. A lot of the men you killed were shitty people who put their family in shitty situations as well as other criminal organizations who were classified as enemies.

Tonight, you were sent on a mission with Kakucho and Sanzu. It was your job to set everything in motion by breaking into the worn down starter house and shooting everyone inside while Kakucho watches the outside and Sanzu breaks in from the back to clear any traces or links from the guy who you all were after that leads back to Bonten.

Once you kicked the door in, you walked into the living room, gun raised and finger on the trigger, pointing at the people who sat inside. Your eyes widened at the display of the lady on her knees who had her hands up in surrender and the two children sat behind her. Something in your stomach drops at the new situation you’ve been dealt.

“I-it’s my husband isn’t it?” Her hands shook as you watched her face glisten with sweat and tremors. “I-I knew he had been into s-some shady business. H-he knew this would happen. He left us!”

You took the time to eye the surrounding area. The mess you hadn’t noticed before looked to be suitcases and duffel bags of clothes that were carelessly thrown in. It seemed like they had just started gathering their belongings.

“Where is he?” You question in a stern tone, attempting to ignore the children's whimpers.

“I d-don’t know! I would tell you because I hate him! He put o-our children in harm's way! Gambling some thugs money when I warned him! He didn’t care!” She cried out, tears freely streaming down her face along with snot. You could hear the congestion as she sniffed while speaking through her pleas.

“P-please just spare my children! Just kill me b-but don’t…! Pl-please don’t hurt my babies!” She whined as the children’s cries became louder.

Your hands shook as you held the gun. Your eyes were shot as your eyebrows were furrowed in concern. Your body is frozen in your spot as you can't fight off the feelings of guilt and sorrow for the lady and her children.

Quick thinking, quick thinking Y/n.

As you tried to come up with a solution that didn’t involve the children or lady dying, a loud shot echoed throughout the room, followed by another one before two thuds could be heard. All you could hear was a ringing in your ear and your heart beat as you eyed the blood of the children splattered against the floor and wall. You lowered your gun slowly as you watched Sanzu walking towards the lady and snatching her by the hair to face him while she screamed and cried out for her babies.

“Y/n.” You heard your name in the distance behind you repeatedly but you couldn’t be pulled out of your trance as you watched the mullet haired maniac put the barrel of the gun to the lady’s head with a bored expression before pulling the trigger, half of her head gone while the bits of brain scatter, and blood splatters. You were brought back to reality when you felt a tug on your shoulder.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Kakucho says before you finally face him with the bewilderment stuck to your expression.

“I-I…” You try to say something. Anything, but you’re left speechless.

“She was gonna bargain with them. I can tell.”

Suddenly, icy blue eyes are in your view as you blink. Sanzu crouches to your height before flicking your head, causing you to flinch and rub the spot.

“The King won’t be pleased. Knew ya couldn’t handle it.” He says before tsk-ing. Kakucho eyed you with confusion.

“Is that true, Y/n?” You could only look down at your feet.

“This is no good.” Sanzu gazed at you with half - lidded eyes though the manic glint was still prominent. “Guess ya don’t have it in ya after all.” He chuckled darkly before walking away. Kakucho could only stare at you in disappointment before turning away. For the first time since you started the job years ago, you hadn’t wanted to follow.

“What is the meaning of this, Y/n? Have you gone soft on us?” Takeomi questions as he leans back in his seat at the long table, leg crossed over as he sucks in a pull from his cigar.

“Obviously. Did ya cry?” Rin teased with puckered lips as he sat next to you

You gave him a scowl as you swat his pointed finger away from your face. Your face rested in the palms of your hands with your elbows planted at the end of the table.

“I knew I should’ve waited to put in that good word for you. Someone like you can’t handle something so complicated.” Koko says, mostly to himself with his head leaning on his fingers. Your eyes widen.

“S-someone like me? No, Koko I swear I can handle -!” You attempt to plead your case to your original supervisor, but Kazutora beats you to it.

“You sure about that?” He chuckled with his arms crossed in his seat, his hair falling past his shoulders. “Clearly if you could handle it, you would’ve.”

“This is concerning, Y/n. How can we trust you to do your job?” Kakucho questions with a disappointed look towards you, his seat next to the empty one that sits at the opposite end of you.

“Is Takeomi right, Y/n? Have you gone soft on us, hm?” Ran questions on the other side of you with his leg crossed over the other, limbs resting on the arms of the chair.

Everyone straightens up in their seats when they hear the door click open. Sanzu walks in first to hold the door open for Mikey before they both walk to their designated seats. Sanzu sat in the opposite chair of Kakucho and Mikey sat in the empty chair across from you. Anxiety heightened as soon as Mikey looked at you, causing you to look down at the table in fear of what he was going to say about your failed mission.

“Why?” Once you look up, all eyes are on you. Shifting in your seat with discomfort, you quietly clear your throat. The intense gazes of all the men boring into you felt suffocating.

“I didn’t think it was fair, Sir.” The room was filled with nothing but silence. Not even a pen dropping as they waited for the rest of your answer.

“I didn’t think it was fair for the family to die when it was her husband’s fault.” Especially in such a gruesome manner. It was very disturbing, and the worst part of it all was that it could’ve been worse.

“I don’t think it’s fair to fail your mission when you vowed to work for me.” Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened against the fabric of your pants. You began to sweat in your seat. Everything is beginning to feel too tight, too hot on your skin. The pressure is overwhelming and the glares aren’t helping. You’re in the spotlight of something you don’t want to be involved in.

“I deeply apologize for my inconsistency and inadequacy, Sir. It won’t happen again.” You’re praying you even make it out of here alive just for this one mistake. How could one situation cause you so much fear? You’ve been so caught up with the recognition and security that you completely forgot about what occurs when you fuck up. You could be put to death. This job is more than what you receive from it. It’s more than just following a routine correctly. It’s about survival. It’s a man-eat-man world, and you’re just waiting to be devoured.

Mikey commands you to get out of your chair and come forward. Sanzu stood next to him as he gave you an icy glare. You stand to the side of the table, but right in front of Mikey and behind Sanzu’s empty chair and bend over into a bow with your arms behind your back, awaiting his next command.

You hear footsteps walking around you before you let out a yelp as your head is yanked back, forcing you to make eye contact with your boss, Sanzu standing right next to your bent position with his fingers squeezing your scalp.

“Do you have something you want to say, Y/n?” Mikey questioned. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You shook your head.

“N-no Sir.”

“Koko, tell me.” Your eyes widen.

“What would happen if I decided to leave Bonten?” You asked Kokonoi the night of your mission, after having the display of Sanzu’s murders stuck in your head. You both sat in his office, the only light shining from the desk lamp. You were looking at the floor before you heard his footsteps in front of you. Fingers sternly wrap around your chin before he forces you to look up at him from your seat on the sofa.

“Don’t even think about it. Don’t speak about it, don’t ask about it, don’t even plan for it unless you want to get hurt, Y/n.” He hissed through his teeth. Neither of you noticed the icy blue eyes staring at you both through the glass door, listening to everything.

“Koko… I don’t like waiting.” Mikey teased in a stern tone with no expression on his face.

“What would happen if I decided to leave Bonten?” Kokonoi shook his head as some of the others shifted in their seats with widened eyes.

You bit your lip, knowing you were about to get it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You grind your teeth when the grip on your scalp tightens, sending shock waves of pain through your skull. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the sensation.

“I-I didn’t mean it! It was just a thought that crossed my mind!” You exclaim before a knee meets with your stomach, causing you to grunt and drop to your knees, Sanzu’s grip still tight on your scalp forcing you to continue facing Mikey.

“The King didn’t ask for you to speak.” Sanzu hissed.

All the men except Kokonoi and Kakucho were intrigued with the display, even the guys who wore bored expressions on their faces perked in their seats. The sound of a gun cocking had your eyes widening. Your body trembled as Mikey held the barrel right above the middle of your eyebrows.

“Should I grant your wish, Y/n?”

You shook your head violently as the tears finally fell.

“N-No Sir!”

As you tried to come up with a solution that didn’t involve the children or lady dying, a loud shot echoed throughout the room, followed by another one before two thuds could be heard. All you could hear was a ringing in your ear and your heart beat as you eyed the blood of the children splattered against the floor and wall. You lowered your gun slowly as you watched Sanzu walking towards the lady and snatching her by the hair to face him while she screamed and cried out for her babies.

“You sure about that?”

“Y/n.” You heard your name in the distance behind you repeatedly but you couldn’t be pulled out of your trance as you watched the mullet haired maniac put the barrel of the gun to the lady’s head with a bored expression before pulling the trigger, half of her head gone while the bits of brain scatter, and blood splatters. You were brought back to reality when you felt a tug on your shoulder.

“I-I’m sure! I swear!” Your voice shook as you cried out. You couldn’t release a sigh of relief when he removed the gun that now sat on his lap in his hand. He looked down at you with those cold eyes.

“The only way you’ll be able to leave is once I kill you myself.” His eyes squint at the last word.

“Dismissed.”

You knew that you had to leave. You knew that you had to get the fuck out of there. Everything became too real after that moment. You were so caught up with the glitz and the glam that you forgot about the ugly that this job came with. How could you forget that you’re involved with Yakuza? You had already begun to pack up your stuff in your penthouse, rummaging through drawers and your closet. You already had the plan set. You were going to move to a country far from Japan and change every single thing about your identity. Before you could continue packing, you heard the elevator open and footsteps following.

“Fuck!” You hissed, eyeing all your stuff before shoving some of it under your bed and the rest in your closet. You had to make it look like everything was normal.

“Oi! Y/n!” You heard downstairs. You rubbed the sweat off your hands as you looked around the room before running downstairs.

“What are you doing here?” You eye Kazutora and the Haitani brothers in confusion. Ran went to sit on your couch with his leg crossed over while Rin rummaged through your kitchen for a bottle. Kazutora snatched a chair from the dining table and placed it in front of the arm of the sofa, sitting on it backwards as he leaned his head on his arms that lie on the back of the chair.

“Making sure you’re not up to something stupid.” The younger Haitani states before walking to the sofa and plopping down, pouring the bottle of liquor into a glass.

“What an entertaining show we got yesterday.” Ran smiled as he stretched out his arms on the back of the sofa.

“Honestly, I was at the edge of my seat.” Kazutora grinned. You growled as you made it downstairs.

“Hey! I didn’t say anybody could come over or rest on my shit!” You exclaim. You still felt embarrassed by yesterday’s escapades. You felt your face burn.

“Luckily, you didn’t have to. Mikey told us to.” Your eyes widen. Mikey? Why would he do that?

“He told me to.” Kazutora emphasizes the word ‘me’ while pointing at himself. “These two just came along.”

“It’s cause we’re bored.” Rin explains before taking a sip.

“Yeah, why don’t you entertain us like yesterday? Get on your knees.” Ran teased causing the other guys to laugh. Your face burned once more, this time anger forming as you snatched the bottle out of Rin’s hand.

“Maybe instead of killing you, we could ask him to make you something useful if you try to run.”

“Yeah, how about you become Bonten’s designated whore?” Your eyes widen at the disrespect.

“Such wasted potential. That should’ve been your position in the first place.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You grit your teeth as you point at the door.

“The house Bonten’s money gotcha? I don’t think so.” Kazutora shook his head.

Hours pass before they finally leave, you having been stuck in your bedroom trying to figure out a different time to leave. You decided to escape in the middle of the night, first meeting up with the guy who’ll give you a new identity and then buying the plane ticket with your new identity so they couldn’t find you. It’s a good thing you had sketchy connections before joining Bonten.

Kazutora switched shifts with Kakucho. You still don’t know why Mikey has them watching you. Why would he care when he’s so willing to kill you on the spot? wouldn’t it just be easier to shoot when the time comes?

Kakucho sat on the sofa next to you on the opposite side of the couch while your head leaned on the palm of your hand, elbow placed on the sofa’s arm.

“I have a feeling that you’re planning something, Y/n. I’m advising you not to do it if you want to keep your dignity.” Dignity?

“I’m not planning anything.”

“Y/n. It won’t end well for you.”

“I know, that’s why I’m not planning anything Kakucho.” A throbbing in your head forms, not only from dehydration but from the stress of the situation.

“Okay.” He states. You both sit in silence for hours until you turn your head to see that he has fallen asleep.

“Perfect.” You whisper. You quietly jog upstairs to gather all your belongings. After a while of gathering everything, you take one final look before grabbing your stuff and heading downstairs. A gasp leaves your lips as you see the pink haired demon smirking at you from below with his arms crossed and gun in his hand, as well as Kakucho awake with his head leaned against his fingers.

You immediately drop your luggage before attempting to make a run for the elevator, swinging all your weight off the railing. Shots rang leaving holes in your walls as they miss, though so close. Right when you were about to reach the machine, a sharp pain surges through your calf as you fall to the floor.

“Fuck!” You yell out, slapping the floor. Sanzu walks up to you before stepping on your back, pushing your weight against the floor as you lay there and take it.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill ya. I’m leaving it all up to Mikey.” He says before using the butt of the gun to slam against your head, immediately knocking you out cold.

Your eyes blink open slowly, a bright light shining above you, causing you to turn your head away. The pain in your leg causes you to groan out as well as the headache pounding against your skull. The cold air along with the surface under you causes you to look down in confusion. Your eyes widen when you realize you’re completely naked on the meeting table, arms above you strapped. Your knees immediately go to your chest as a way to cover yourself, completely forgetting that your bare vagina is out and can be seen in between your thighs.

You scream as your eyes make contact with the men sitting around the table like you’re a buffet on display for hungry customers.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You cry out, tears bursting as you struggle against the straps. Your calf in pain from the sharp movements, but numbed out from the bandaging.

“I guess Mikey actually listened to my proposition, huh?” Kazutora says in awe while eyeing your body and crying face.

“Shoulda put a muzzle on her.” Takeomi says as he leans over in his chair to place a hand on the bottom of your thigh, spreading your vagina as he pulls the skin, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“STOP TOUCHING ME!” Your voice cracks as you struggle harshly against the restraints. A hand is placed against your wrists.

“Those were expensive as hell. Stop struggling and relax.” Kokonoi says. He’s honestly just thankful you’re not dead yet. Your eyes widened more when you felt nubs against your nipples. You look down at both of the Haitani brothers on either side of you gently twisting them in between their fingers.

“They’re so fucking hard.” Rin says with a straight face, mesmerized.

“Who knew you’d have such a nice body under that suit, Y/n?” Ran smirked. The feeling of the friction between their fingers and your nipples caused a shiver down your spine.

“It was a good idea to get the Bonten symbol tattooed on her chest.” Kazutora beamed.

Kakucho sat at the end of the table diagnol to where your head lies as he eyes the tears on your face. He ignored the tightness forming in his pants as he looked away.

You were hysterical. You didn’t stop crying until you all heard the door click and everyone removed their hands from your body. They sat back and awaited their Boss and his second in command. Your head leaned back to eye Mikey sitting next to Kakucho as well as Sanzu on his other side.

“Pl-please don’t kill me like this Mikey! I don’t want to die like this!” You whined as you pulled against the restraints once more. You were so hysterical that you forgot the honorifics. You wouldn’t know but hearing his name come out in the plea went straight to his cock.

You watched as he sat criss crossed on the table above you, in between your strapped arms, behind your head with a gun in his hand.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Your teary eyes met his dark gaze as he looked down on you. The room was silent, everyone anticipating what could happen next. You couldn’t answer considering you didn’t know what to say.

“Open your mouth.” Your eyes widen, as well as some of the other men. Is this how you’re going to die? Naked with no dignity and a gun down your throat. You had no choice but to comply. He slowly pushes the barrel past your lips as he glides it down your throat, you slightly gagging.

“Suck. Your life depends on it.” You whimper before sucking the barrel like it’s a toy cock. You hear curses under some of the males breaths. Mikey forced you to suck the gun as he slowly dragged it in and out of your mouth.

“When Sanzu unstraps you, I want you to prove to me why I shouldn’t kill you on the spot.” Your eyes shut tightly as you begin crying around the gun.

No way.

No way he’s going to humiliate you like this.

All these years of working under these men and doing a great job. All your hard work. All your efforts going down the drain. You realized how fake the recognition was. The validation. Maybe they knew all along how weak you were for praise.

You feel the tightening on your wrists loosen before you quickly cover your boobs with one arm and your vagina with your hand as your legs lie flat on the surface. He removes the gun from your throat slowly.

“Pl-please Sir. Don’t make me do this.” You whisper, holding back another sob.

“Y/n.” He says in a sing - song voice, yet his tone is flat. His head tilts slightly as he leans back on his hands.

You slowly sit up from your position, purposefully looking down as you try not to make eye contact with anyone even though you can feel their gazes burning into you. You bite your lip as you turn your body to face Mikey, sitting on your knees, minor pain striking from the injured calf.

“W-what do you want me to do?” You feel nothing but embarrassment and so much pressure. He uses the gun to tap at his crotch area, spreading his legs as he waits for you to make a move. You realize that if you proceed, you will have to bend over and your bottom half will be on full display. You swallow hard before getting in position. Tears continue down your face as you pull his pulsating cock from his pants. You are in disbelief that you’re actually holding your Boss’s cock in your hand.

“M-Mikey I can’t-.” The gun cocks against your head as you shut your eyes tightly before bending over, knees spread with your bottom half on display for the men who sat in the vicinity. You lower your head until your lips touched the head of his penis. You feel his cock twitch in your hands before you ease the entire shaft into your mouth, bottoming out with the head of his cock in your throat.

He let out a breath before laying the gun down and using that hand to place on your head before he whispers, “Good.”

The only thing that could be heard was the wet sounds of his cock rubbing against your tongue as your mouth engulfed his shaft, pulling your head back and forth in a steady pace. You accidentally released quiet whimpers when his hand would hold you against the base of his cock before releasing his grip.

The display had the other men heated as they watched you bob your head on their boss’s cock. Kazutora rubbed along his own bulge with a drawn out, quiet, “Fuuuck.” Ran had his face in his palms as he leaned over in his chair, fighting the urge to rub a finger up your wet slit.

“Goddamn.” Takeomi whispered with droopy eyes.

Rin watched the display with his arms crossed, becoming slightly impatient. When you and Kakucho accidentally make eye contact, you shift your focus away immediately and close your eyes, but within the second, you saw that lust had formed on his red face.

Kokonoi sat with his hands crossed on the table, eyeing your perked ass. He’s honestly in disbelief that the boss even listened to the proposition of those idiots. He could only hope you wouldn’t get killed after this whole ordeal. Though, if you do a good job maybe you’ll get to live. He continued to ignore the tightness of his pants as the escapade played out.

Sanzu eyed your teary face as you shoved Mikey’s cock down your throat. He couldn’t help but be turned on by the scene. His precious King using the seductress whore was a sight to see. He smirked when you opened your eyes and accidentally made eye contact with him, licking his lips in the process. The humiliation and sorrow on your face made him even more horny than before.

You finally felt Mikey’s cock twitch in your mouth before he held you down, nose to the base of his shaft as he released his semen down your throat, a quiet moan escaping him as his hips slightly lift up and teeth meet his bottom lip.

The hand shifts to the back of your neck before pulling you off of his cock. Saliva and cum drip down your chin as the tear stains dry down your face. You attempt to look down, completely humiliated and having a hard time looking at your boss but he tightens his grip and forced you to look at him.

“I own you til the day you die.” He frowned before pushing you back, causing you to fall on your back, legs spread from having to pull them from under you. You watch in horror as he climbed on top of you. Your knees are almost pressed against your shoulders as your hands reach his chest.

“M-Mikey! No!” You squeel as you feel the head of his cock enter you. You suck in a breath when he locks your thighs with his legs and his hands are placed next to either side of your neck.

“Holy shit.” Rin whispers to himself in excitement as all the men’s eyes widen at their boss about to fuck you.

“No, no, no! Don’t do this!” Suddenly hands grab your face forcing you to look back at Kokonoi standing above you.

“Shut up, Y/n! This is the best punishment you can get without losing your life!” You eye the desperate look in his gaze, the white hair draping over his shoulders. Your jaw hangs open in a silent scream as pain reaches through your core when Mikey shoves his cock all the way into your wet vagina.

“Ah! K-Koko it hurts!” You cry out from the lack of preparation. Some of the men almost moan out from your plea, completely turning them on. Suddenly, Kokonoi was pulled away from you as Sanzu took his place, his grip tighter on your face as he forced you to look at Mikey’s intense gaze.

“Look at your King when he’s fucking you!” He hissed with a manic look on his face. His hands hold your face in place as Mikey speeds up his pace. Kakucho watched as his testicles slap your ass, the wet noises going straight to the scarred face’d man’s dick.

“God she’s soaked!” Kazutora says after he got up from the chair to eye your pussy.

Your hands grabbed onto Sanzu’s forearms as Mikey’s cock began to hit your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hips automatically buck up as your legs spread even more. You couldn’t stop the whining and moaning as the feeling burned your lower stomach.

“There ya go.” Sanzu whispered, thumbs rubbing against the corners of your mouth. The tip of the back of your head is pressed into the surface as Mikey continues to move his hips back and forth, grinding into you at a steady pace while he goes deeper and deeper, purposefully aiming to get you to cream on his cock. He feels the tightening of your core, slick oozing out of you as his precum leaks inside of you. He’s not very concerned about whether you’re on birth control or not. At this point he doesn’t even care if he breeds you.

He bites his lip, soft moans and grunts escaping him as he released a curse. He can feel himself edging closer and closer to release, but he wants you to finish first. He wants to feel your vaginal walls wrap around his cock tightly and milk him dry.

At this point, the Haitani brothers have been cupping and rubbing their bulges throughout the ordeal, their cocks tight against their pants as the feeling becomes too overwhelming to ignore. They want to fuck into you so bad, Y/n.

Takeomi relights the cigar that’s been sitting in his mouth to distract himself from his raging hard on. At this point he’s leaking against his underwear.

You finally release a guttural moan as your grip tightens on Sanzu’s arm, nails piercing his skin as tears fall from your face. Your head is turned to the side before the blue eyed man forced your head back to face Mikey. He cursed when your pussy tightened around him, your hips bucking as you orgasm hard against him.

“Shit.” He hissed, head dropping to your shoulder as he fucks into you hard and fast, the tightening walls sending him straight to the edge before he milks himself inside you, cum filling you up as some leaks out of your hole. You both breathe heavily as you lay there for a moment.

Sanzu released his grip on your face as Mikey sat up, pulling himself out of you as he climbs off of your exhausted figure. Your legs fall to the surface, the pain in your calf long forgotten as you lie there. After a moment of silence, you were fucked hard by each executive. Some fucked your mouth and some fucked your pussy. It was amazing that nobody ended up double penetrating you. Kokonoi and Kakucho were hesitant participants but they eventually received their fair share of your body. At least they were a lot more gentle than the rest.

Once the sun rose, you had been laying in the same spot, dried semen, slobber, and tears everywhere. Your body was littered with bruises and scars. If you would’ve known that beginning the job would’ve ended up like this, you wouldn’t have joined. At least you’re not dead.

“When you joined Bonten, you vowed your life to me.” You couldn’t move. Your eyes were barely even open and you wondered if that was a hallucination or not.

“You belong to me.” Your head turned to the side to face your Boss, lazily. A finger traced the tattooed Bonten’s symbol that’s placed right in the middle of your breasts.

“You’ve been demoted.”

Your breath hitched when you felt the baton at your entrance.

“W-wai-!”

Your scream echoed throughout the room.

[lucytara]

a prompt for every week of the year

awhile ago, i created my own writing prompts along the lines of an old livejournal writing community called 52 flavours, whose prompts were always beautiful and abstract and poetic and evocative. these types of prompts have sort of become lost to fandom in favor of more straightforward and simplistic ones (which never inspire me much, personally) so as i start to post fics i'm writing to these prompts, i figured i might as well post the actual prompt list for anyone to use!

the distant glitter of the January sun

back then, everything was music

at the violet hour

the world begins at the kitchen table

it felt just like February; what had been falling snow was beating loudly in the street

Listen. Even the ocean begs.

still without sound

unsure of where to settle down for the night

March is a month of storms and lust

we’ve been alive just long enough

I wrote “valley” when I meant “longing”

you saw me one Friday afternoon and decided you should love me

I know I have been dreaming

April is the cruelest month

all this fucking with no hands on me

I’d write about you a lot more than I should

to put on your best outfit and feel like you’re dressing a wound

to be held by something reluctant to let go

Late in May as the light lengthens

I worry that love is violence

I’ve been trying to go home my whole life–

you can put your strength down

I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.

It is June. Let’s hope someone is kind, just in time

bend in a thousand directions

your smell was never unfamiliar

even hunger can become a space to live in

a kind of undressing

the July night is a song

you, you, and only you

they cannot exist without setting each other on fire

in your hand, its shaky penmanship, my own paper-thin nerves

staying up all night for it

the August sun, returning everything that was taken away—

and maybe love still smolders in my heart

the reverse of being haunted

I want I want I want

a day of rain; the kind you think will never end

September tastes of ashes 

the museum of past lives

maybe a meteor or maybe a phone call or maybe a sudden shift in atmosphere

an old, old wound about to heal or about to bleed

the ache of everything unsaid

October is a thick and hollow bone

the difference between intimacy and radical intimacy

I caught you forgetting me

the wish for winter

Will you forgive me these November days?

amazing how long a ruined thing will burn

Look, you said, sunlight.

All my stories are about being left; all of yours are about leaving. We should have known.

It is December and we must be brave.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.

There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.

Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.

Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.

It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.

Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.

And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.

It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.

The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.

Or so he told himself.

While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.

The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.

And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...

Reliant. Whipped.

He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...

You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.

He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.

That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.

When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.

"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.

You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.

"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"

{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}

Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.

There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.

At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.

Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.

If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.

There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.

Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.

He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.

No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.

One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.

"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows. Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission. "Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"

{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}

He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.

Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.

As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.

He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.

Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.

Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.

Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.

Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.

Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.

Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.

To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.

A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...

On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.

The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.

"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red. "It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness" 'Well clearly it's something' "I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me," 'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?' "Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!" In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring. "...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you. "I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"

{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}

NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"

[londonfoginacup]

Fuck. I missed my 10 year 1D anniversary by 17 days. September 29, 2014 SMG played on Radio 1 and I was changed.

Liam was my favorite. He’s always felt like home in a very specific way. Everything that I would say has been said. He deserved the chance to get better. He deserved the chance to atone. I will always be devastated that this is how it went.

To me Liam will always be that 21 year old trying his best, because I was a 21 year old trying my best. He will always be that bit of sunshine and joy who never said the right thing but his heart was in the right place. I will miss him and the grief will hit and it will hit and it will hit, because he was part of the everything that was pure magic in my bloodstream at a time when I didn’t know magic like that existed.

I saw 1D at the age of 22, exactly 31 days before I broke up with my boyfriend (who hated them). I remember literally ONE thing from that concert and it’s the moment that Liam said something so dumb that I knew, in that moment, that when I went home and booted up my laptop, people would be dunking on him for it. And they were.

He had too much on his shoulders from the very beginning and I only wish we could’ve help.

I’ve missed him for a while and I miss him now and I’ll always miss him.

But I loved him. And I love him.

And I love you all.

To every one of you who has journeyed in any form with me, I thank you. This fandom transformed me as a person, taught me what I was missing in life. I can honestly say I would likely have gotten married at 23 to a man who would turn out to be a Trump supporter, and be perfectly miserable now, if not for all of you.

This year has been one full of burnout and learning to cope with the bad sides of being an adult, and the burnout is still there and I’m still crawling my way through, but still yall have been here with me. I cannot thank you enough.

I miss Liam already. I miss him. I don’t want go to go work tomorrow and be given condolences. I don’t want to hear strangers talking about this pain that feels so private. I don’t want it to be real. I want this to be a bad dream.

But. I am so thankful to the fandom. I wish I could pay yall back properly for the wonderful experiences you’ve given me. I love you all.

[beddybites]

hi friends! big rant incoming— i want to clarify this isnt targeted at anyone, im just noticing a pattern and im getting a little upset with some of the requests im being sent ):

something that really bothers me is the babyfication of giyuu tomioka. the fandom infantilizes the dude way too much. and its even worse when you throw shinobu into the mix and have her being a maternal figure to him when she herself is an eighteen year old who has worked as a hashira since she was a teenager. she does not need to be put into these situations where she’s taking care of her older peers all the time

i see this happen a lot and i feel its rooted in misogyny whether people recognize it or not. almost always the male characters are thrown into positions where the female character has to take care of them and its really frustrating

shinobu isnt a maternal character at all. to inosuke and the younger ones, it’s different, but if i keep seeing her being a mom to giyuu im actually going to lose my mind. giyuu isnt some uwu depressed baby who cant stand up for himself. he is just as mean as sanemi and obanai. he trained to survive and operate in horrible situations and fight for his life for years. hes a grown man and a hashira. he would not be babied by anyone, especially not someone who he has known since she was around fourteen years old

you may say “well ghostbite dont you do this with mitsuri and obanai”… sure. perhaps i am a hypocrite. but you must remember mitsuri is just sort of like that. she loves cute things and she loves fawning over everyone and everything. her scenes with nezuko. her introduction scene in the hashira meeting with her gushing over everyone. she hand feeds tanjiro pancakes in the recent season. she refers to people as “cutie.” etc etc etc

the difference with obanai and giyuu is obanai is often characterized as a yandere simp who is a huge bully to giyuu and tanjiro. he’s not. i like to put him in deaging situations a lot because unlike everyone else, he’s been through hell since birth. he’s never, not once, had a moment of peace. he had no siblings growing up to protect him— he had no loving parents, etc. he never felt love and he believes he is undeserving of it and should never reciprocate it. so here comes mitsuri, the epitome of love. he takes care of her. he watches after her. he is devoted to her. if something happens to him, especially if it’s a situation where he’s much smaller and weaker and in need of care, mitsuri would drop everything to help him. if it were mitsuri, obanai would do the same for her. it’s in both of their characters to do this. them being in these situations makes sense

i love shinobu. she would not. she does what a doctor does, looks for a cure, checks in here and there, and leaves it at that. she is not giyuu’s “mama.” she is an eighteen year old girl who has her own bucketload of issues. if you need her in a maternal role then use inosuke or literally any of the butterfly girls— the kids she actually takes in and takes care of. not her 21 year old coworker who is more than capable

if anything i think shinobu should be put in deaging situations. have giyuu take care of her instead. mix it up a little. but people are so attached to the idea of having every single caregiver role go to the woman that it’s unlikely we’ll see that

this is not a criticism on giyuu. i love giyuu. but i need people to stop treating him like a defenseless baby, and for people to quit seeing shinobu as responsible for him as a caregiver or a mother

tdlr: please stop asking me to draw or write deaged giyuu stuff. someone else can do that. i dont like deaged giyuu. tiny 21 trio is essentially on hold because of this ): i keep getting nonstop requests for deaged giyuu and im so tired, especially because people are framing it in a “you should replace obanai with giyuu” lens, or adding “mama shinobu doing x with baby giyuu”

it’s tiresome and frustrating. i love to make content for you guys, and i love when its something that appeals to you in a comforting way, but if you want specific content with giyuu— you’re very much in the wrong place. i hate the fandomification of him and shinobu— it makes me uncomfy and sad.

other people are deaging giyuu and putting him in situations— go ask them instead of me. i would rather highlight misunderstood and underrated characters like obanai and gyomei or my own personal faves (muichiro) then constantly loop the same exact character over and over again

all this to say im doubling down on the babybu and babynai and pintsized pillars aus. if you keep asking for baby giyuu and maternal figure shinobu my spite makes me stronger. hashtag let shinobu be taken care of for once. she’s already the doctor for an entire organization give my girl a break

[larry-stylinson-for-ever]

This is such a strange thing to navigate. I am 30 years old. I was always considered an 'older' member of the 1D fandom. But to me, it felt natural. I was the same age as the boys. I grew up at the same time they did, although leading a much quieter life. They brought me joy in the darkest of times and have made me laugh, scream, cry and sob many many times over the years.

This weekend has been surreal. I have sat here crying on and off. I can't explain to my friends why I am upset - how do you explain that someone you have never met can cause this level of grief? But it was more than just a celebrity dying for me. It was a person who saved my life at one point, someone who was the reason I met many of my friends and someone who was a major major part of my childhood.

Grief is funny. At the moment I can't imagine how I will be able to think about One Direction without bursting into tears... but I know someday I will. These boys mean the world to both teenage me and current me. Even if I haven't been the biggest fangirl the past few years, they still own a piece of my heart.

Liam, I am sorry for what you went through. I hope you are happier now. I am sorry we couldn't save you like you saved so many of us.

[svtminji]

𐙚 ⠀⠀⠀THE WEDDING⠀ ( 💌 ) ───── mizuki ( みずき ) and jeonghan ( 정한 ) 🏹

attendees 📨 : @thatfeelinwhen, @allthings-fandoms, @httpuji, @watermelon-sugars-things, @malia-blue, @cheolsboo

▶︎ DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY TO YOURSELF IN 10 YEARS?

( 🦢 ) : “I expected this question sooner or later, but I never expected it to it be this early..” Mizuki smiled as she began to think. She cleared her throat, “To the thirty-nine year old Doi Mizuki watching this, I hope you have the family you’ve always wished you had. I genuinely cannot believe I managed to marry the love of my life.”

Mizuki remained quiet as she thought more but ultimately nodded. “I have nothing else to say but I genuinely hope you are happy with our own little family. See you later!”

( 😇 ) : “Ah.. in ten years. Well, do we have any kids? If we do, how many?” Jeonghan paused before smiling to himself, “it shouldn’t matter but I hope I have the family I’ve wanted to have for a while now..”

Jeonghan mumbled a few things about what would Mizuki say but nevertheless he ended it with “I plan to live the remaining years of my life with her and hopefully by then, we’ll be more comfortable with cameras and our fans, of course.”

             HER HAND trembled as her stylist began to fix her hair. Today was one of the important days in her life and it marked the beginning of a new family blossoming. Looking down at her hands, the missing engagement ring reminded her that it was finally time. She wondered if her fiancé had the same questions or thoughts she did at that moment.

The stylist pulled away from her hair to view everything almost pieced together. Calling out Mizuki’s name, the pair made their way towards the lengthen mirror to doll up Mizuki in her dress. One by one, Mizuki felt the accessories begin to transform her to the soon-to-be bride.

             HIS GAZE was kept on the boutonnière pinned on his suit. The recently brown sprayed hair contrasted with how he felt inside. Not so long ago he was performing with his members, but he looked so different then. He knew his time was coming up and he couldn’t leave his damsel in distress alone.

He swore to himself that he would marry the love of live before he enlisted and that day was here. Jeonghan wondered what he would be feeling seeing his bride walk down the aisle. His mother would always calm his worries, stating that she would look undoubtedly beautiful; yet the images that flooded Jeonghan’s memory would leave him flustered.

             THEY BOTH had seen each other in their wedding attire for the wedding photos, yet the nervous feeling kept creeping down their backs. Nevertheless, when both of them were getting ready, all they could think about was seeing each other.

The pair went through the smallest details and soon enough they found themselves ready at their designated spots. The venue was filled with their loved ones, close friends, and ultimately, their members. Their practice dinner with the rest of Seventeen had left them wiping tears from their eyes.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ 민지 ⠀𓍼⠀⠀⠀𝐉.⠀⠀⠀정한

             AS JEONGHAN began to make his way towards the alter and the officiant, he suddenly realized this would be one of the chapters he would be closing before enlisting. He glanced at the tables where everyone resided; though what he thought that was the most important at the moment were his “best men”— to say the least— cheering him on from their own two tables.

The venue’s theme of white flowed throughout the striking brown venue. The lights slightly began to dim as the crowd’s attention was faced towards the door behind them. Jeonghan stared at the door opening and saw Mizuki standing in her all white dress, with her father next to her.

             AS MIZUKI stood in place ready for the signal to move, her heart seemed to stop and resume while seeing her soon-to-be husband. She knew she only had around two weeks left with him, but Mizuki wanted to make this the perfect wedding day— not only for Jeonghan and the crowd, but for her inner child who dreamed for a wedding like this. Linking her arms with her step-father, both of them had taken a glance at each other. Her father’s brown eyes had begun to water as this would make it official that his daughter wasn’t the little girl he knew.

The familiar melody rang through Mizuki’s ears as she faced towards where Jeonghan stood. Walking down the aisle, Mizuki felt her eyes water with each step she took. She finally stood face to face with the love of her life and she felt emotional as she finally stood here with him in the attire.

             THE CROWD settled down and their focused was placed onto the couple in-front of them. The music had softly died down and the officiant began the ceremony. Just like any other regular wedding speech, the officiant went on and on about the pair. They cleared their throat and then the door was opened to Mizuki’s younger cousins with the rings.

Everyone had “awwed” at the sight of the two little girls and how adorable they were. Mizuki had slightly laughed at how serious they were about making sure the rings weren’t going to fall. Yet once the girls had made it to the couple, Jeonghan saw the sparkling rings and how it had slightly lit up his fiancée’s face. The girls had handed the pair their respective rings and waddled off to the side with Mizuki’s aunt.

             THE OFFICIANT began once again, yet this time, they allowed the couple to being their vows.

“WHEN I saw you for the first time, I knew I was going to have a hard time getting over you. We were so young then but I had already had a crush on you. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit it in front of everyone but I have no reason to deny how I felt about you for the first time.” Jeonghan took a deep breath before continuing. “I had told Seungcheol and Joshua about my feelings before telling you first, and to say that they had a good plan.. well, let’s just leave it at that. Yet, you accepted my feelings and returned the feelings back as well.” He paused before collecting himself from the tears threatening to fall down. “From your friend, boyfriend, fiancé, and now to your husband, I plan to spend every day loving you.”

From hearing those words, Mizuki felt her eyes fill up with tears. Thankfully with the veil covering her face, people had managed to not see how emotional she was becoming. The beginning and the end of his vow left her staring right back at Jeonghan. The officiant signaled to Mizuki to continue her side.

“I’m not sure how I will be able to top that vow, but.. here’s mine.” Mizuki opened the paper containing her vows. “When you first introduced yourself to me, I knew we would be friends right away. When you first spoke to me in Japanese, I knew I had fallen for you. Was it because of how much time and effort you did in order to learn my mother tongue?” She paused before continuing, “For a second, I had thought you learned it for the fans, yet when you spoke to my family in that same language, I knew I couldn’t let you go. From waking up to going to bed, sometimes you were everything I could think about. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” Mizuki smiled as she continued. “You have been one of my best friends for the longest time and now with this commitment, I'm sure we will be able to move forward together. I, Doi Mizuki, promise to love you now, in the future, and so forth."

             THE CROWD remained silent but once Seventeen began clapping and cheering, the rest followed. The pair laughed at how crowd followed behind their members. The officiant cleared his throat, once again this poor old man, and started the final nail in the coffin. "Mister Yoon Jeonghan, do you take this lovely lady to be your wife?"

A silence filled the air until Jeonghan spoke those words everyone wanted to hear, "Yes."

"Miss Doi Mizuki, do you take this gentleman to be your husband?"

"Yes." Mizuki said it out loud without missing a beat, which caused some people to laugh at how quick she was to do it.

"Well then, I believe that includes this marriage ceremony. Please wish the now married couple the best!"

this is part one of two. the next part will be the honeymoon :3 i'm going to ignore how long this took me, but while i'm here, i should say that i've currently fallen off w svt but there will occasional posts here and there. my fixation on them has gone away for a bit and most of my attention has been on nct atm. trust me that this blog will remain up LOL

[grahambaham]

Controversial opinion, especially for any Jason Todd fans out there (I'm one of them), but I completely understand why the fans in, the 80' I think, voted to kill him off. Hear me out, okay?

Jason was at first a literal Dick Grayson copy, was legit given his backstory and personality with the name being the only change. And for a while that was all they knew about and, rightfully so, hated about him. Now I'm not sure whether he was given the whole Alley kid who tried to steal Batman's tire story before or after his death but either way, in those fans' minds, Jason Todd was just a boring replica of Dick Grayson and no one liked him. If I was alive and a fan back then, I honestly would have done the same thing.

WHICH IS WHY I HAVE SUCH A HUGE PROBLEM WITH THE WRITERS DOING TO JASON THE EXACT SAME THING THAT GOT HIM KILLED OFF BEFORE!!!

Jason immediately after getting brought back to life was a villain. He wasn't misguided, he wasn't an antihero, my man was a Villain with a capital V. He didn't protect workings girls or children from any drugs or anything, he just made one off hand comment to a guy not to sell to kids and that's it. One of his only interactions with any prostitutes is to mock her for her past and decisions that led to her becoming one. Bruce did not abuse him or attack him unfairly. Jason had not only tried to kill Joker or other horrible villains, he killed anyone whether they were rapists, or robbers, or petty fucking thieves and he didn't do it for justice or whatever the fuck but because he was angry and taking it out on everyone he could get his hands on. He stopped Batman from going after Nightwing after Bludhaven blew up with him in it. He blew up a school. He beat up Tim in his little Robin panties and was a fucking villain.

I love Jason. But I love him as the messed up asshole he is. Not as some misguided wittle antihero. Which is why I despise the fact that the fandom latched onto the completely inaccurate version of him, because the writers of DC had started writing him the way the fandom wanted and he is now irreversibly ruined. Aside from the already mentioned stuff, they made him into a copy of Dick Grayson (for the second fucking time) and Helena Bertinelli.

Helena is the one protecting women and children, the antihero that often uses violent force. She's the one with the reluctant sibling relationship with Tim. Jason was not Tim's Robin by the way, Dick was. Tim does not like Jason one fucking bit and spends most of their forced interactions roasting him so bad he has to buy burn salves. Also her personality was taken and given to Jason in some ways too, like her manner of speech and stuff, but I'm willing to let that slide as accidental.

From Dick Grayson, they mostly took his relationships, romantic and platonic. Jason slept with Barbara and Kori both, which aside from just being dumb as hell is also weird and creepy because Jason is six years younger than them at least and they knew him as a fourteen year old when they were at least twenty, and they would never date someone so much younger than them, they aren't fucking creeps. Then they took Starfire and Arsenal and made them forget their own lives to join Jason's little antihero team (neither of them are antiheroes what the fuck) and act like the sun shines out of Jason's ass and he's their leader or some shit when they would never follow him before that, especially Roy who has led so many other teams and does not deserve that shit. Some fans also ship him and Jason, which is both creepy and character assassination for Roy's entire character more than him being friends with Jason and in the Outlaws already is.

Also, Pit Madness is not a thing you fucking brainless losers. Stop trying to justify and erase the flaws that make him an interesting character. His anger has always been due to the trauma of being tortured and dying and the misguided feeling of betrayal he felt for Bruce. He was unwell and taking his problems out on others. So, repeat after me: PIT MADNESS IS NOT A REAL THING!!!

Thank you for reading <3