#me when the function has toxic relationships

[creppersfunpalooza]

Nothing to Celebrate

(Rosé and Adonis writing drabble because i felt silly)

it’s not that bad because it’s before rosé’s whole transformation thing and all of the more serious stuff between them but uhmmm it still makes me want to tear at adonis soooo

CW/TW: Mentions of religion and religious themes (Catholicism), religious trauma, cult/shunning implications, invalidation, and a teensy bit of manipulation.

————————————————————————

“I just don’t get it.”

“Hm?” Roe looked up at Don, temporarily taking his attention off of the half-decorated tree.

“I mean, I don’t get why you’d wanna remind yourself of such horrible memories. It doesn’t exactly seem healthy, love.” He continued, scrunching his nose at the angel settled on the top. “And it’s not exactly… You know, real. What’s the point in celebrating it?”

Roe sighed and went back to wrapping the popcorn strings around the fir branches. “I don’t know. Call it silly if you want, but it’s comforting to me.” He hummed, still focused on the tree. “It’s about forgiveness and love. If someone was willing to die for my sins, then that means I was worth saving.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t happen. Sure, some guy claiming to be a prophet probably got himself executed, but it doesn’t actually mean anything. It’s just… I don’t know. It feels offensive.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “You want a god to love you, and I’m right here. Forgiveness and all. Look, I think it’s doing you more harm than good to put all this effort into something so pointless.” Don scowled.

He stared at Don incredulously. “Does this upset you that much? It’s not really a worship thing. It’s about what it means to me. It would be ridiculous for me to pray to a being I know doesn’t exist.” Roe murmured, setting down the garland and making his way over to Don, sitting next to him on the old couch. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings though. It wasn’t my intention.” He gently set his hand on Don’s shoulder, staring at him with a sweet expression. “I can take it down, if you want to. But I’d still like to celebrate some traditions with you. I understand if you don’t want to though.”

Don paused for a moment, but his scowl had long since faded. “I don’t know. I don’t want anything to do with the holiday. It’s stupid. I just wish you could see that.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure. I’m done speaking anyways.”

“It was the only time of year they’d ever pretend that I was a normal person. It was nice to belong.” Roe lowered his voice. “It made me feel less alone, even if it was only a temporary thing.”

Don stared at him blankly. “And you still feel alone? Even with me?”

Roe sighed and held his tongue. “No, of course not, my dear.”

[deathbxnny]

hey I need you SO BAD to do like an arcane reaction where they’re drunk and what they do/say while it and btw I love your writing

What Arcane characters are like when drunk. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

So this may have become a little too angsty for some of them, so uh... don't mind me-

Also, thank you so much! I'm glad you love my writing. It means a lot to me!<33

Content: Alcohol obviously, some potential heavy angst, Pit fighter Vi, established romantic relationships, some toxic behavior, this has been written by someone who has never drank a sip of alcohol in their life so I'm sorry if this is unrealistic, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

》VI

Her being drunk wasn't unusual, and in fact, it has become the norm for her at this point. It was the only way for her to numb the agony she was going through every day, and there was no stopping the cycle she was in. If she wasn't drunk, then she was fighting. But even the line that was drawn between those two states she was constantly in was becoming blurry and unintelligible. Things were getting out of hand, and so was her aggression towards everything that moved, anything that cared for her.

But at least you were still here with her, trying your best to keep her together and intact when she refused to be.

She can be cruel and unfocused whilst drunk, often either yelling or punching things to express her frustrations, and yet she never dared hurt you. You were the only light she had left, and she'd be damned if she snuffed you out, too. But this doesn't mean that she can control her words at times. She says things she regrets all the time, insults that cut deep or accusations that made no sense were common. Yet you stayed, you always stayed.

A part of her knows you deserve better, but until Jinx showed up, she refused to wane off the bottle that kept her even partially functioning daily. In a different life, she'd put the bottle down, however, and just finally hug you instead.

》CAITLYN

She doesn't drink much, and when she does, it's in strict moderation. She has a reputation to keep up and can't let her sharp senses falter at any time, especially once she becomes the commander of Piltover. But when it's just the two of you attempting to relax after an impossibly stressful day, the alcohol helps her relax and become more open with her troubles. Her grief had manifested into an uncontrollable force she shyed away from every speaking on, but in drunken moments like these, she'll allow herself to find melancholy in your arms, her flushed face pressed into your shoulder as she did so.

She may cry or laugh of the worries of the day, maybe break down from the guilt and frustrations, let the anger quell over but only still hesitantly even with her judgment clouded. This is a very rare state to see her in after the loss of her mother, and she trusts you to keep this vulnerable part of her safe and sound in your heart behind locked lips.

With that said, knowing how emotional she can get whilst drunk, she tries avoiding drinking too much during functions in case things get too much out of hand. She'd rather not make a fool of herself infront of everyone after all.

》JINX

She doesn't typically drink. But the few times she does with you at her side, she somehow becomes extremely calm and lazy. She'll practically lay in the chair she was sitting in, eyes squinting at a far away point on the wall, whilst she seemingly contemplates life. Most would think that the alcohol would enable her crazy tendencies even more, but alas, it simply turns her mostly docile.

I say mostly, as she usually mentally comes up with the craziest plans instead, all of which are questionably more unethical than the last. She'll eventually lose herself in those thoughts and become either unresponsive or mutter the silliest, incomprehensible things known to man. And there is certainly no in-between.

With that said, she will probably eventually snap out of it and begin rapidly speaking about all these thoughts to you without a single care in the world. Drunk Jinx is somehow less miserable and yet absolutely doesn't like the feeling of it afterward. Sure, it makes her mind stop thinking about her issues and past, but it still feels wrong, hence why it's rare to see her drunk.

Her terrible hangovers alone also cause her to stay away from alcohol in general. It's definitely not worth that pain to her.

》EKKO

Another person who doesn't drink often at all, albeit out of his responsibility as a leader. He has to be a good role model for everyone and only drinks when the occasion calls for it, like a festival or get together with friends and you. That's when he lets loose a little and allows himself to drink more than he probably should, resulting in a very clingy and loving Ekko.

His alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly low, and he always tells himself that he should know better than to down so many glasses at once... yet it's hard to keep count after about 2 and a half of them. Or so he'd say after he sobers up in the morning, much to your amusement. During the time he's fully hammered, though, he'll always have a hand in you and slur his words rather heavily, whilst he practically near proclaims his love for you for everyone to hear. This often results in you having to slap a hand over his mouth before he embarrasses himself further... which is somehow he hates.

He gets teased by the others all the time for it and glares when they mock his loving tone of voice that he only uses when he's in that impaired state with you. This alone makes him abstain from even a singular drop of alcohol... until the next festival roles around and he forgets to keep count again.

But hey, maybe he'll remember next time because you sure as hell won't remind him.

》SEVIKA

She drinks at bars all the time with you, although it's rare to see her ever get completely drunk. She has an extremely high tolerance to alcohol and it shows when there is barely a difference in her behavior. The only thing that may indicate something influencing her would be a slight slur in her voice and her being unwilling to get up or move around much at all. She'll just want to relax and play poker in peace, even if it starts getting hard to see the cards after a while.

Another way to tell that she may be getting drunk is by her sudden overprotectiveness. Sure, it was always there and never left, despite you being able to handle yourself alone. But when she's drunk, anyone that looks at you for too long in a way she doesn't like will either be punched in the face or yelled at to keep it moving.

She also definitely always denys being drunk or even tipsy when you ask her. Whether out of pride or stubbornness, you'll never know, but she will never admit to it. It doesn't matter if she denies it whilst being unable to walk straight either.

[kurooh]

PROFESSIONAL ( AT LOVIN’ ) !

⊹₊˚. HAWKS’ BDAY 2024 — after six months of being his press agent’s friend with all kinds of benefits, keigo struggles to find a way to tell you that he can’t keep up his side of the agreement any longer. / or, his heart’s been in it since the very beginning.

word count: 14.3K (um….please read🧎‍♀️)

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, friends with benefits -> lovers, angst, unprotected sex, creampies, cunnilingus, drinking (everyone is mid twenties), dirty talk, squirting once, office sex.

xoxo, juno: happy LATE birthday to keigo <33 WOOO first fic of 2025 and it’s the longest one i’ve ever written.. inspired by the weeknd’s kissland! hope you enjoy, love you guys :,) 🩷

“this pussy of yours is pretty fuckin’ greedy, huh?”

“how could i not be when you always fuck me so g-good?” the filthy words rush out of your mouth in a surge of euphoria that has taken over your cognitive functions and renders you clinically cock drunk. in this state, things you’d normally never agree to are suddenly more alluring than a shiny trinket to a nesting bird. sex on the roof of the heroes’ safety commission is outlandish and obscene (you’d used those words when keigo had first brought it up in jest) — but here you are getting plowed by none other than the no. 2 hero of japan.

“aw, dovey,” keigo coos, gloved hand closing around the slope of your neck and tugging you back into his chest, “you’ve always got the best compliments, don’t ya?”

“ah, r-right there!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull as your third orgasm of the half hour boils in your tummy like magma in an explosive volcano. “shit, kei, ‘m gonna cum again..”

“heh, go ahead ‘n let it out for me,” the heel of his other hand digs hard into the plush skin above your pubic bone and the crude slapping of skin against skin grows louder. “c’mon, baby, cum all over this cock. show me how good you feel, yeah?”

“yeah,” you whimper, desperately throwing your ass back onto his cock to get him even deeper, “oh my god, keigo, fuuuck—‘m cumming!”

it nearly sweeps you off your feet, the strength of your blissful orgasm leaving you shaking violently and clenching uncontrollably on keigo’s cock. his teeth sharply sink into his lower lip when he quickly pulls out of you, lamely stroking himself to completion above your ass and spraying strings of ivory onto your skin. your body is slick with sweat and now cum, but the messiness of the situation doesn’t hit you quite yet — you’re busy trying to catch your breath while he hangs his head lowly behind you.

keigo still holds you upright on legs of jelly, lightly beating his wings to help stabilize himself. watchful gold eyes sweep over your body, doing a once over and admiring every inch of you. he’s always considered you as the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and has always felt lucky to touch you — so why does he feel so damn unfulfilled? it’s probably a form of karma; keigo hasn’t ever had a consistent relationship, all due to his own actions. so many of his old girlfriends had clashed with him over his neglectful habits — his inability to give them time, attention, and effort. all of his relationships began positively, then quickly deteriorated into toxicity he’d grown tired of dealing with.

he’d been single for a year, and went without sex for longer. if he didn’t always have the press looming over his shoulder and scrutinizing each of his damn movements, he would’ve been able to get his dick wet sooner! keigo would certainly never admit it, but the total deprivation has been a good thing, allowing him to reset and understand why those relationships had completely gone downhill. at the time, he’d pettily blamed his girlfriend or the new guy she’d moved on with.

you let out a tired puff of breath and break away from his hold too soon just to look at your phone, which is sitting on top of keigo’s jacket. “so, my lunch break isn’t over just yet. we can hit the sandwich place around the block if you’re up for it?”

god, you’ve got that lazy smile playing on your lips like it always does after he’s made you cum. how is it possible for someone to look so elegant even as she buttons her blouse and wipes cum off her ass with a spare napkin? his brain literally short circuits when you hand him his jacket, plush lips shaping around a word. words. didn’t you just say something? maybe his post nut clarity has faded into obscurity, or he’s lost his hearing from how hard he just came.

“keigo,” you sigh, snapping your fingers in front of his face and briefly contemplating slapping him out of his stupor, “is the light on upstairs?”

a shiver jolts through him despite the fact that the weather’s warm, and his disassociated eyes finally hone in on you, standing right in front of him. “yeah, sorry. what’d you say earlier?”

you shrug on your suit jacket and slip into your heels. “i’m still free. we can grab sandwiches around the block if you’d like.”

so thoughtful. his heart swells happily at the prospect of eating lunch with you. it always does, usually accompanied with a flip in his stomach, whenever he tags along on something you’re doing, whether it’s eating lunch or sorting through lengthy documents after the office closes.

“sounds good. are we walking or flying, dovey?” your favorite sex petname rolls off his tongue naturally, and after months of this arrangement, you’ve stopped correcting him.

“let’s just walk,” you say decisively, wrapping the used napkin in another, “it attracts less press, showbird.”

☆ ☆

still thrumming with the sensations of sex, keigo walks into the restaurant behind you, piping up to place his order and then to swipe his card for the lunch. he dutifully waits at the table while you stand at the counter, glancing at your phone every now and then to alleviate the impatient boredom that accompanies most edible purchases. keigo allows himself a moment of respite, and instead of looking at his phone, he looks at you — particularly the way your clothes hug the slopes and curves of your body, much like he does when he’s coming down from an orgasm.

it was exactly eight months ago when keigo had first laid eyes on you. he knew right then and there that under no circumstances would he allow his old persona to shine through or mess things up between the two of you. for the first two months out of those eight, keigo had befriended you (with much encouragement from his friend mirko, bless her) and spent time getting to know you as a person over friendly lunches and the occasional drink. he’d committed each of your stories to memory and marked your birthday down on the calendar, something he’d never done for anyone else before. the beginning of everything was after one of those rare drinks that had landed you in keigo’s apartment and sitting criss-crossed on his bed, discussing your unlucky love life.

he’d listened with rapture as you pored over the freaks you’d met and gone out with in detail, mistakenly trusting your friends to set you up with someone nice on a blind date. in their defense, you’d drunkenly mumbled, it’s not their fault that there’s so many people catfishing. one inebriated conversation led to another, and you’d happened upon the fact that neither of you hadn’t had any good sex in a very long time. in the morning, you came into work late and sore all over, but also newly enlightened. for the past six months, you’ve successfully maintained a friends with benefits relationship with keigo takami, the no. 2 hero of japan.

“this one’s yours. here’s the receipt,” you push him a tightly wrapped sub sandwich and his tab.

he catches the sandwich after letting it spin on the table like an arrow on a game spinner, then crumples the receipt. “why don’t you believe me when i say i enjoy paying for you, hm?”

you sigh after a bite. “it makes me feel like a sugar baby . . but also, i can pay for myself.”

“so you’re either saying i’m old or rich,” keigo chuckles when you roll your eyes dramatically, “i know you can, but just let me spoil you, dovey.”

you knew it was a losing game the moment you brought it up, cheeks heating a little at the implication of his words. maybe being his baby isn’t that bad. conversation comes to a comfortable standstill as you both dig into your sandwiches, crumbs falling to the table and making a small mess. when you look up to pause and wipe your mouth, a laugh tumbles out before you can stop it.

“what?” keigo asks confusedly, holding his sandwich tightly and going so far as to swivel around backwards in hopes of pinpointing whatever made you laugh. 

you wrap a napkin over your fingers and lean across the table. instinctually, keigo leans in for a kiss, only to be a little more than heartbroken when you swerve to the side and dodge it to instead dab at a streak of mustard across his chin. the sudden intimacy and close proximity cause the apples of his cheeks to turn rosy in embarrassment. “did you just lead me on?” he asks when he notices you giggling at him again, voice taking on a playful and petty tone. “because it totally feels like you did that on purpose.”

“no, keigo,” a wide smile spreads across your face at his usual antics, “you were the one eating so quickly you got mustard all over your face! someone had to clean you up.”

in an instant, his voice drops an octave, becoming low and sultry. “you keep talking like that and i’ll clean you up.”

“i— we’re in public!” you exclaim, a dull ache pulsing between your legs at the thought of him using his tongue on you. 

he shrugs noncommittally, feeling triumphant now that he’s briefly flustered you. “public or not, you know you love it. now eat your sandwich.”

“way ahead of you,” heat floods your cheeks as you pick up the sandwich, feeling dirty because of the slick pooling into your underwear. keigo doesn’t understand how easy it is to get you worked up, whether it’s with his words or the mischievous footsie he keeps playing under the table with you. “if i come across a headline about this conversation, i’m gonna kill you.”

☆ ☆

“late night?” keigo hums, shattering your concentration on the current task. startled and disheveled, you glance up just in time to catch his typical smirk. his gold eyes shamelessly rake up and down your body as if he’s spotted something he wants—no, needs—to claim. however, his raunchy ogling comes to a screeching halt when he hones in on the shadowy dark circles beneath your eyes.

“the latest,” you blow out a peeved breath through pursed lips, doing your utmost to avoid looking out the window. it’s completely dark outside, the sky an inky blanket of night and stars over the city. “i’m fucking swamped.”

it comes out bitterly, and keigo cautiously steps forward, wings twitching nervously behind him. that well-groomed mess of vermilion feathers at his back seems to have a mind of its own, constantly betraying their owner by displaying his emotions so openly. 

“what, you coming to rescue me?” absentmindedly, you swish around your empty coffee mug. not a single drop flies over the edge, the porcelain totally dry as if it was never used.

“c’monnnn, you know i’m always up to rescue you,” he teases playfully, gently tugging the mug out of your grip and setting a reassuring palm down on your hunched shoulders. “i’ll get us some coffee and help you out when i get back.”

“i highly doubt that you’re qualified to deal with PR work, keigo.” a small though rascally smile plays on your lips, corners flicking up as your sour demeanor starts to mellow out. 

he sticks out his tongue and steps out of your office, heading to the kitchen. as his feet quietly pad along the hard carpet, he considers your recent behavior — last week you were fucking around on the roof and then getting sandwiches like it was nobody’s business. keigo was seeing you around the office and outside of it, but the time he’d been spending with you had decreased dramatically over the past few days. the coordinated lunch breaks and escapades were no more, and keigo’s been caught up wondering why. now, the reason for this couldn’t be linked to anything he did or said — still, it’s impossible for him not to overthink.

“god, you’re a lifesaver!” you groan joyously as keigo sets down a full mug of coffee in front of you and away from your laptop and notepad. “thank you for this.”

“slow down, you haven’t even seen the things i can do outside of making coffee.”

you rotate your laptop once he finally takes a seat in front of you, insistently pointing a finger at the various tasks on your metaphorical plate. “if i give you some work, you’ll have to do a lot of proofreading.”

keigo nods, and his eyebrows suddenly pull downwards in a mix of playful confusion and surprise. “wait, is that a virtual shrine dedicated to me?”

“what?” you mutter, squinting your eyes as you frantically look over the computer screen to no avail. “oh, shut up. just start reading while i finish up the rest.”

there’s a pause and a beat of silence as you both settle into your respective assignments.

then, “i actually came to the office because i missed you a little.”

“you what?” you laugh increduously, licking a finger to aid you in flipping through paperclipped pages. his eyes follow you, from the moment your tongue darts out to wet your skin and then flicks through pages you skim to find what you’re looking for.

“well, i haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” keigo sniffs, tearing his eyes away from you and refocusing on the words on the screen. at the risk of sounding too vulnerable, he throws in something disgustingly horny to save himself. “was just wondering about my fuck buddy.”

fuck. he’s really cringing now, throat instinctually closing up once he feels waves of nausea crashing over him. but you don’t even bat an eye, too busy setting papers aside in different stacks and barely paying attention to him. “oh, yeah. i’m sorry, it’s just that a ton of people have been dumping so much work on me.”

“so that’s why i’m reading a drafted article enshrining endeavor as number one?” he grins, briefly catching your eyes. you’re not quite sure if it’s the exhaustion finally catching up or something else, but your stomach flutters when you automatically meet his gaze. loose papers drift to the floor, falling right past you. 

“yep, that’s why,” you laugh nervously, snatching up the papers so forcefully that they crumple in your grasp. keigo’s always so damn charming, and it affects you more now that you’re so tired. right?

“you want some dinner, dovey?” the affectionate pet name lingers in your mind, echoing loudly until it finally fades into a memory from a while ago. the transition of his affectionate voice into one choked with unadulterated pleasure is seamless, leaving you breathless in an instant. a glance at his wings has you sloppily picturing them fanned out above you and frantically beating the air as keigo ruts his hips into yours . . god, what’s gotten into you? he certainly could.

“i want you,” it slips out before you can stop it or even control it, words laced with a silent desperation only he can detect. “uh, i mean—”

“bold words,” a wolf whistle trills out into the air, reminding you that you’ve now started something you won’t be getting out of easily. “sure you can handle what you’re askin’ for, baby?”

“don’t act like i haven’t countless times before,” you retort, voice a little weaker than you’d like. it’s frustrating, the influence he has over your body — he hasn’t even said anything meaningful and yet heat’s surging to your cheeks while a shiver of excitement ripples through you.

“riiiight. aren’t you the one always saying you can’t handle it? ‘oh, keigo, please! i can’t, i—’”

the endless teasing is just too much — it makes your blood boil, gets your pulse racing, and absolutely does what it was intended to do. your full mug of coffee tips off the edge of the table and spills when you slam the laptop shut, leaping forward to rapidly close the distance between you two. your lips, slightly sticky with coffee, crash onto keigo’s hard, causing your foreheads to knock together too.

it’s a palpable invitation, one that he eagerly accepts without hesitation. his strong hands settle firmly on your hips in an attempt to stop their slight tremble, fingertips pressing into the curve of your waist. he pulls you into his lap and you fall into sync with one another just like always: keigo slips his tongue into your mouth while you tug at his blonde curls. impatience curated by time apart and characterized by frustration has the air in the room sparking with white hot electricity that’s strong enough to cause a power outage — you’re so close to finally scratching that unbearable itch, at least until it comes back tomorrow with much more ferocity.

keigo draws back with a knowing smile, lips curling up. “we should stop, dovey.”

a thin, glossy string of saliva connects your lips to his. you’ve got this desperate, needy look written all over your face, which crumples petulantly as you consider the possibility of being left unsatisfied. something purely horny twists in his chest, alongside his still yearning heart — keigo fucking loves being in control, being the only one who can give you the satisfaction that you so desperately need, but the thought of being something more resurfaces in his mind again.

it always comes to him at the worst times: right now, during a sexual moment, or before he falls asleep and when he opens his eyes to daylight in the morning. it’s eating him up inside, and he’s already too far in to stop — or is he? no, he isn’t! not if he finds a way to extricate himself from the suffocating casualness of this mess and advance whatever’s left into a real relationship, one that’s abundant in love and adoration. the evolution of the relationship hinges on the timing of his love confession, so he’ll definitely plan to wait until you’re not holed up in the office and on his lap looking like you’re about to shed tears.

“i c-can’t,” you gasp breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears, “kei, please— i need you so badly, i’ve been waiting so damn long.” 

and who is he to deny you, when you’re begging so beautifully?

“so you missed me?” keigo murmurs, pressing kisses to the column of your throat and savoring the way you softly gasp. this is his moment. he’s going to slyly frame a question for you, and when you answer it correctly, he’ll spring his confession onto you and then give you what you’ve been dying for.

“god, yes,” a moan rushes out from between your lips, head tipping back to give him easier access. with his nose pressed into your skin, keigo blissfully inhales the faint wisps of your favorite perfume. eight months later and you’re still wearing that scent daily, ever since he complimented you the day he met you. “you know i did, keigo.”

“what’d you miss the most?” he smirks between open mouthed kisses, guiding you straight to the answer with his warm hands that slip under your shirt and languidly caress the small of your back. 

“your cock, t-the way you fuck me,” you groan, unintentionally shattering his plan into pieces; but he doesn’t let it show, chuckling into your neck as he rapidly snatches them up and off the floor. it’s okay, he’s okay. all he has to do is ask a few more questions and offer up some multiple choice answers — in doing so, he’ll have a chance to tell you how he really feels.

“mmmm, is that all?” 

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you tug him back by the hair, scrutinizing him with eyes clouded by lust and nothing else. a carnation colored flush sits high on his cheekbones, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a pesky i love you. not now, not here — this isn’t the right moment.

“keigo, why are you questioning me like my boss does?” he blinks, averting his eyes to your glossy neck, shining with his saliva in the dim light. it smells like coffee now, and he’s wondering if it’ll ever get cleaned up, dark liquid overflowing and soaking through the carpet, straight into the floor. he doesn’t want to be like the coffee, forgotten about and lingering in the air since it had fallen off the desk without you having caught it.

keigo knows you — he always has, and it’s too easy to pick up on the unmistakable tension twisted in your question, along with undertones of discomfort and deflection. automatically, he slips back into his typical persona, lips curling into an impish smile while he waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “heh, you’re so impatient. can you blame me for wanting to build things up?”

you visibly relax, plush mouth forming into a pout he wants to kiss away. “i think there’s been plenty of build up. don’t tease me again.”

“yes ma’am,” he replies coolly, lifting his hands into the air in a show of submission. you release his hair and he pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he stands up from the chair. it rolls away into a corner, plastic backing hitting the wall with a soft thud just as keigo slams you down on the desk, papers flying every which way. 

“keigo, hah, you haven’t even gotten me naked yet,” you sigh, heat rushing to your face as he sinks to his knees on the hard carpet, his eyes never leaving yours. dexterous, impatient fingers find the clasp of your pants, and he drags them down your legs, along with your sticky panties. 

“i know,” keigo breathes, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and pulling your hips close to his face, “and yet, you’re already fucking soaked for me. aren’t you, baby?”

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing when he rewards you by spitting onto your clit. “all for you, kei.”

“you’re so cute.” 

you really are, all spread out on the desk, pretty and pliant just for him. there’s not a shred of resistance when he manuvers you closer or teases his fingertips around your quivering hole, ignoring your strained cries for more. dark pupils enlarge against gold irises, and keigo’s wings flutter eagerly as his arousal crashes over him in continuous, steady waves of heat. now that he’s between your legs and focused on his favorite late night snack, the scent of the coffee dissipates along with his thoughts. 

“keigo,” you keen, fingers threading through his tousled curls, “please, just—oh god, stop fuckin’ teasing me.”

a sportive smack! lands on the side of your bare ass, kicking up a few papers when you jolt forward in surprise. “easy, baby. easy,” there’s a low, warning pitch in his voice, and you settle down frustratedly, gnawing on your lower lip. keigo’s never been one to rush when it comes to eating your pussy, even during quickies—you’d be more aggravated if he didn’t always make you cum so damn hard. his face is flushed pink and shining with eagerness as he pushes two fingers inside you, fixated on the way they slide in so easily. 

he experimentally curls them, and a lick of heat washes over his whole body when he watches your face crumple, head tipping back weakly while you tug at his hair. the blond curls are soft between your fingers, giving you something to grab onto when you need to steady yourself. 

“fuckkk,” keigo groans, attaching his rosy lips to your clit and lightly sucking at the swollen, sensitive bud. clumsily, you grind your hips against his mouth, body sweltering as the small office fills with the impolite smacks of his lips and wet squelches of your sloppy cunt. “loosen up for me, baby, you’re too tight.”

a trembly breath leaves your lips as you obediently readjust for him, spreading your legs and trying to relax so he can tug his fingers back. for a moment, he pauses to appreciatively look over his glossy, creamy fingers��he sticks them into his mouth, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he puts on a show of swirling his tongue around them like some kind of slut. once he opens his eyes, those piercing gold hues meet your own and he plunges them back inside, making you whimper.

“listen to me, dovey,” keigo murmurs, breath fanning over your wet clit, “i want you cumming hard on my fingers in the next thirty seconds.”

“but—oh,” your voice cracks when he deeply curls his fingers, purposefully interrupting you, “what if it’s not enough? i don’t think i can—”

sharp, pearly teeth lightly graze your clit and make you mewl noisily, the action both a warning and a reward. “yes, you can, dovey,” he utters in a hushed voice, “c’mon, show me you’re a big girl. i’ll be counting for ya.”

with that, keigo dives back in, furiously licking your clit while he roughly curls his fingers into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. it’s probably not serious, but something in your stomach flutters at the thought of disobeying him—if he wants you to cum, you’ll do just that. your hips rock into his tongue, developing a messy rhythm that could possibly rival his own when he’s inside you—he smirks against you, clearly pleased with himself. papers lift into the air, swirling around in a flurry of white as if they’re caught up in a tornado. the source of the miniature storm is his wings, uncontrollably flapping about as he determinedly licks at your clit like a lollipop. 

twenty five. a thin sheen of sweat shines on your forehead, making the skin tacky. absentmindedly, you wonder if it could be possible for him to cum in his pants just from eating you out. he certainly enjoys it enough — whenever he says he’s feeling thirsty or hungry, he’ll end up eating you out for so long you pass out by your seventh orgasm.

twenty. keigo’s absorbed in the smell, sight, and taste of you. nothing’s better than watching you fall apart on him, dewy tears in your eyes as you fight back overstimulation or impatience. but this is new: he’s never demanded you to cum after setting a time limit in place. it occurs to him now that he didn’t think far enough ahead to answer the question you’ll probably end up asking afterwards, something along the lines of ‘what would’ve happened if i didn’t cum?’ . . 

fifteen. with your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips lurch off the desk, a bit of drool pours down your chin. covered in a mixture of sweat, spit, and slick, you’re at a loss for words as keigo’s damn tongue rolls over your clit again and again. perhaps you’re too dazed, but you swear you feel him etch the letters of his name into you with the tip of his tongue.

ten. keigo’s pussydrunk, soaking his boxers with precum as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. his eyes are dark with lust, and the rosy skin of his cheeks and chin is smeared with that sticky wetness he just can’t get enough of. all of your muscles pull taut like a bowstring, and you sob out his name, pushing his face into you as euphoria hits you from every direction and all at once.

“kei, oh my god, ‘m gonna fucking cum,” within seconds of your frantic gasps, you abruptly gush on his fingers, hard enough to push them out of you — cum squirts from your cunt, getting onto his face when he curiously leans in to lick it away.

you don’t get a second to come down from your high because keigo roughly licks you through it as if he’s severely dehydrated. “mmmph!” you squeal, hips immediately pulling away from him like he’s given you an electric shock. “wai—wait, keigo, it’s way too much!”

he relents, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. “fine, fiiiiine. you win this one, dovey.”

“pants off.”

he quirks an eyebrow but starts to undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft bang. “you’re so fucking greedy, i swear.”

you throw him a glare, wiping sweat off of your forehead as you sit up, slowly hopping off of the desk. 

papers fall all around you, quietly crinkling as they hit the floor and surround the desk in a sloppy circle. your lips press into a thin line as you take the sight in, mildly exasperated by the mess you’ll force him to clean up. “on the desk, keigo. tuck your wings in too.”

he laughs in disbelief, used to calling the shots when it comes to sex, “so demanding, baby.”

you fix him with a serious look, crossing your arms over your chest while papers ride the dying currents of air made by his wings. keigo clears his throat and folds his wings close to his back, “yes ma’am.”

his flushed cock is rock hard, bobbing as he settles onto the desk; it’s fraught with veins and beautifully curved to one side, something you’re endlessly thankful for when he’s inside you. above him, you’re dripping wet and ready to take him deep — keigo shudders when you grip the base of his cock, carefully balancing yourself on the desk so that you can easily sit down on it.

“holy—oh, shit,” he curses, abs clenching beneath his clothing as he forces himself to keep his hips down. if you want to take control, he’ll give it to you — anything you could ever want is immediately yours. bleary gold eyes clear up and hone in on where you’re connected; your pussy swallows his cock whole like it’s nothing, leaving him breathless.

you swallow, gnawing at your lower lip, “i’ve fucking missed this, kei. been s-so long.”

memories from your most favorite escapades rush back to you so quickly your head spins, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. there’s a beat of silence before keigo grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he borderline begs you, “baby, c’mon, fuck me already.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you breathe, placing your hands in the center of his chest to hold yourself up, “you don’t get to do that right now, keigo.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me.”

maybe you won’t, but your hips will — they start to move until you’re bouncing roughly on his cock, letting his tip bully itself against your cervix. it’s the kind of kiss that only the two of you can understand, filled with affection and an hungry obsession for more.

for what seems to be the hundredth time, this mahogany desk is christened with more sex. skin claps against skin, filling the room with the same applause that echoes in a theater after a successful show; the whole building is empty, and it’s only your window that’s flooded with fluorescent light in the otherwise dark night.

“dovey,” keigo moans, voice cracking on the familiar pet name, “if you keep going like this, i’m—i’m not gonna last much longer.”

you don’t answer, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of exhaustion setting into your muscles. handsy as always, he grabs at your tits, pulling you further on top of him and taking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

the sharp edges of his pearly teeth drag against your skin as he sucks, golden eyes shutting once he hears your whiny moans grow louder. you’re fluid and all too smooth, riding his cock into oblivion while working in these little humps against his pelvis that don’t disturb the rhythm you’ve built up. your clit drags across his skin deliciously—shit, it’s possible that you could cum together.

“haah, baby,” keigo trembles beneath you, wings spreading out and quivering against his will. “i’m so damn close, i want—” it nearly sounds too intimate, but he ignores the voice in the back of his mind and focuses on his impending orgasm that’s fighting its way out of him. “shit, i just want you to cum with me.”

sensitivity creeps up your spine and makes your body ripple with a shudder, “r-rub my clit ‘n i will, kei.”

everything happens so damn fast; it doesn’t take long for your body to respond to his frenetic touch, and you completely fall apart on his cock, triggering his own high. while your cunt desperately grips him like a vice, he’s shooting endless ropes of cum deep against your cervix. ultimately, it was pointless for him to fold up his wings — they’ve fought against him like usual, strewing more papers around the room and knocking objects off of your desk.

“d-don’t move just yet,” he wheezes, holding your hips in place the moment you try to retreat, “just stay here for a second, dovey.”

a mixture of slick and cum is smeared in the wispy beige hair that adorns his pelvis, and he looks at you pleadingly, cheeks a blotchy pink. it’s cute, but not nearly convincing enough for you to stay much longer than half a minute. “c’mon, i’ve got some stuff to finish up.”

begrudgingly, keigo lets you go and winces as you pull off of his cock. it flops lamely against his stomach, cum dribbling down the sides and adding to the creamy ring around the base. he sighs, unsurprised by your eagerness to depart — his thighs are cooling now that you’re no longer sitting on top of them.

“that was good,” you say, voice layered with praise as you stand on the tips of your toes and peck an appreciative kiss to his cheek, “let’s get started on sorting papers, shall we?”

you’re already across the room before he can grab your waist and show you what a real kiss feels like, slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand each and every time. 

☆ ☆

rules are the stitches in the seams of anything, always there to hold things tightly in place. it’s natural to break a few every now and then, but what if there are some that should be broken? perhaps they tend to hold things back rather than securely in place.

“okinawa’s just beautiful,” keigo says wistfully, reminiscing about white sand beaches and the bird’s eye view of colorful tourist umbrellas dotting the shoreline from above. there’s a small glitch in his memories that adds you to the scene in a bikini, sunbathing on a towel while he convinces you to come swim in the water with him. he hears himself say something impulsive, but he doesn’t regret it. “maybe we can go on a trip there together. i’ll fly us.”

you stir your drink with a straw, watching the alcohol whirl around ice. “ah, i think we should build up to that, keigo. you’re forgetting that i’ve never flown around that far with you before.”

“we could always change that,” he replies, voice suave. “nighttime is the best time to fly.”

“someday i might just take you up on it,” a laugh spills out of your mouth after a gulp of sweetened tequila, and keigo’s face softens. one of the things he loves most about you is the fact that you’re not afraid to be yourself around him, never once hiding a smile or laugh. “anyway, is there anywhere you haven’t traveled?”

“hmm, let me think,” he raises his fingers to his chin and ponders momentarily, although the answer had come to him the moment you’d started to ask the question. “well, there’s your house.”

you shake your head, nudging his wrist with your own. “noooo, i’m talking about other countries and cities. haven’t you flown out of japan?” 

“only to okinawa,” he supplies, wings twitching anxiously. whenever he brings up your home in the city or worse, him going to it, you always clam up or push him away. granted, it was a boundary line you’d marked in the sand when you’d gotten into this reciprocal relationship all those months ago. escapades have taken place everywhere but your home—he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d mentioned doing it at your place, only to end up on a random rooftop or in an empty alleyway. ever the quick learner, keigo learned not to bring it up. but now, when he’s considering all the variables involved when it comes to confessing to you, he can’t help but feel that it’s necessary to see your house at least once.

sweat rolls down his spine and he unconsciously tugs at his fitted shirt, feeling the heatwaves brought on from both the liquor and the crowded atmosphere of the bar. there’s so many people walking behind the two of you, so much noise, so many bodies all in one space — he feels a little trapped.

“i’ve never been,” you say, derailing his train of thought as you drain your third drink of the night and then flag down the bartender for another. “it’s supposed to be a great vacation spot, though.”

he wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and finishes his drink before nodding your way, wings fidgeting behind him. “it really is, dovey. you wanna take off after another drink or two?”

two glasses slide on the counter, the sides dripping with condensation and cold to the touch. it’s nice to feel in his hands, and he feels his nerves calming after a few long sips. “sounds good,” you answer, feeling hot yourself. the edges of everything in the room seem to blur, thanks to the halos circling the dim bar lights. “you might have to carry me out of here, though.”

“oh, i don’t mind,” keigo answers with a smirk that you can hear in his voice before looking up at him, “but only if you promise you’ll hold on tightly.”

“yes, keigo,” you drawl, scooting your barstool a few inches closer to him. he follows your shameless eyes, tracing your weighted stare to the small gold chain around his neck. it makes a tinkling sound when keigo loops a finger beneath it, hazy eyes meeting your own.

“can’t stop staring, can you?”

you automatically roll your eyes and look away, although your heart starts to race with anticipation. it should be an innocent question, but keigo’s words roll off his tongue in a way that is loaded with his unique charm and flirtatiousness. in a matter of seconds, you’re overthinking the question and the certain innuendo behind it; your breaths come in shallow pants that are just barely audible, and a finger slips beneath your chin to tip your head up. 

keigo leans in, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “gettin’ all worked up and i haven’t even touched you? that’s a first for you, baby.”

just stop it, you think, yet you’re unable to turn away. damn, he’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it — keigo shoots you a knowing smile when he notices your thighs unconsciously squeeze together. it’s so hot in this bar, and it only grows hotter in his presence; an uncontrollable shiver races up your spine and you shakily reach for your drink. “stop it, kei.”

your words are shaky, and his wings twitch triumphantly behind him, feathers slightly puffing up. the dewy glass slips right out of your hand and splashes all over your blouse, sticky tequila soaking all the way through to your bra and dampening your chest. keigo stifles a snicker and plucks the glass out of your lap, a little bit of liquid still sloshing around inside it.

“that—that was your fault,” you drop a loose ice cube into the remains of your drink and glare at him angrily as he dabs a handful of napkins against your chest, unabashedly looking over the shrinking fabric. now that it’s all wet, it clings to every inch of your chest and emphasizes the outline of your tits.

“oh, but i wasn’t holding the drink,” keigo clicks his tongue and sends you a wink, sweat shining on his forehead. 

“someone has to foot the bill,” you grouse, sourly blaming him for your now stained blouse and sticky chest. then, it hits you—neither of you are drunk enough to leave the bar. after flagging down the bartender and requesting six shots, you look at keigo competitively. “listen up. whoever finishes the shots first wins and doesn’t have to pay.”

“really, a drinking challenge?” keigo grumbles, knowing you have a better chance of winning. normally, he wouldn’t mind paying for you, but you’ve challenged him and might risk covering the bill you’ve both racked up. his head is fuzzy, but one thought is clear: he won’t let you.

“yes, really,” you shoot back, nose crinkling at the smell of the liquor all on its own in the shot glasses. it’s not sweet and there’s no chaser, but you’re determined to fight your gag reflex as it goes down. “ready?”

“i’m ready,” keigo sighs, lifting a shot glass. 

it ends faster than the alcohol was poured. you’re proud to have won, and keigo doesn’t let on the fact that he assisted you. despite the liquid fire burning your throat, you’re happy—too happy; this is the most drunk that keigo has ever seen you, and he’s in the same boat as you, looking for the oars.

he nearly forgets his card when he struggles to his feet and walks out of the bar with you, right into the not-so-dark nighttime of the city. all of the streetlights are fuzzy and the sounds of racing cars are muffled; this is a different area of the city and it takes a moment for you to register where you are in relation to keigo’s apartment.

“dovey,” he says, cheeks flushed a bright red, “do you wanna go to my place?”

strong, possessive hands find your waist and pull you close, pressing your damp chest against his. those gold eyes of his search your face carefully, as if he’s taking in your features and committing them to memory or looking for something he’s intent on finding. 

your hand settles on his cheek and you pull him forward for a kiss on the busy street, not caring about who sees or writes about it. you’re in your own world, thinking of nothing but keigo and his plush, yearning mouth—he’s got the sense to pull away before it goes further, vaguely gesturing for you to turn around. when you oblige, he wraps his arms around you and under your own, holding you securely against his chest.

“i’ll treat you to a little night flight.”

vermilion wings beat the air powerfully, kicking up dust and litter along the sidewalk as keigo lifts you off the ground and into the sky. you’re shocked and speechless as you look over the city from above, thousands of buildings endlessly illuminated with light and color from the entertainment district. “it’s beautiful up here,” you breathe, feeling a little less drunk now that chill air washes over your face and cools you down. “why didn’t you invite me up here sooner?”

keigo laughs, riding on the wind and becoming one with it. “i did, you just never took me up on it. as to why, i don’t know.”

everything’s so much clearer from up here. the view is impeccable, and the air is fresh, free of the different scents of the city — exhaust fumes, restaurants, cigarettes, the occasional incense store. you’re shivering, a little too cold from the breeze blowing through your damp blouse, but being pressed against keigo’s warm chest makes it more bearable. something prods at the back of your drunken mind, a thought you’ve pushed away each time it arrives.

keigo thinks he’s slick. he thinks you don’t notice his lingering gazes, the odd way he tries to snuggle up to you every time you finish having sex, or the acute tenderness written all over his face every now and then when he’s talking to you.

but you do. you notice it, each and every time—in fact, you know exactly what all of this behavior stems from, but you choose to ignore it. clearly, keigo is in love with you. it’s evident in his actions and body language, yet he hasn’t actually said anything. it’s so damn easy to notice and understand because you feel the same, you’re just better at hiding it. something about the idea of a relationship with the no. 2 pro hero of japan is daunting — not only because you’re his agent or you’ll constantly have to face the public, but because there’s a possibility that transitioning into something more from being friends with benefits may be too dramatic of a change. 

“oh, fuck,” keigo groans, getting lost in the myriad of lights and buildings below. he doesn’t know where the hell his apartment is and isn’t sure if he has the time to fly around for a half hour looking for it.

“what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, suddenly aware of the fact that your legs are dangling in the air. in order to preserve his pride and sensitive ego, you don’t bring up anything about him dropping you, but your body tenses.

“it’s the shots,” he grouses, speaking quickly, “they’re gonna come back up.”

“where’s your apartment?”

“i don’t know,” keigo answers, and now you can hear him starting to gag as he forces the contents of his stomach back down. “i can’t keep flying around much longer . . sorry to cut this little flight short, baby.”

“it’s okay, just don’t get sick,” you reassure him slowly, trying to pinpoint your own apartment. surprisingly, the building is a minute or two away from you, if he flies fast enough. “keigo, we’ll head to my place. see that dark building right there, near the red billboard?”

he nods, and the waves of nausea evaporate instantly. after months, he’s finally going to see your apartment—he’s now leagues closer to successfully confessing his feelings to you. keigo’s heavy wings slice through the sky as he hurdles toward your apartment; while the speed is steady, the course is not. from below, people watch as something wobbles through the sky, shifting awkwardly from side to side in a way that isn’t at all graceful . . or intimidating.

you assume he really has to throw up, when it’s quite the opposite. “k-keigo, see that balcony with the potted plants? there’s only one pot of flowers.”

“is that yours?” he asks, struggling to control how giddy he is. “i see it.”

☆ ☆

with the solid, familiar ground of the balcony beneath your feet, things around you are a little steadier. still, the alcohol buzzes persistently in your head and makes you giggle over nothing. it’s warmer now that you’re out of the sky, standing close to keigo and surrounded by all of your potted plants. a pleasant tingling sensation courses through your limbs as your body wobbles, adjusting to being out of the air and the new thoughts that rush into your head.

everything’s still a little fuzzy at the edges, a reminder of your tipsiness and disorientation. keigo wraps a supportive arm around your waist when you nearly stumble to the ground, quietly giggling at your own actions and sighing contentedly in his grip. there’s a beat of silence as your body meshes into his, the kind that settles between two people who’ve just shared a long day, and it feels so natural that your mind absently drifts to two pairs of shoes beside one another and two cups of coffee in the mornings—perhaps you didn’t notice the routine you’ve slipped into, one so innate that it makes everything else feel a little less important.

“hey, did i mention how sexy you are when you’re drunk, dovey?” keigo hiccups, wings quivering as he leans on you for some support, struggling to balance just like you are. his knuckles nudge into your side gently, grin widening as if he’s waiting for a reaction from you. the playful edge to his voice falters momentarily, and you exhale through your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“ugh, you must’ve had much more than i thought,” you laugh, kicking the doormat up and retrieving the brass key from beneath it to unlock the door. it’s dark out here on the porch and the same inside, leading you to awkwardly jam the key into the lock.

“you always blow me off,” he sighs ruefully, smile dropping as he notices you using the key upside down. “what, do i embarrass you or something?”

“i-it’s not that,” you breathe, tensing the moment his chest presses against your back and his hand envelops yours to help you with the key. goosebumps rise on the tender flesh of your arms first, then all over your chest, beneath your damp blouse. you recover once the lock gives, sliding the heavy glass door open and catching your breath. “kei, you’ve always got something to say to me.”

“you, of all people, have the power to shut me up whenever you want,” keigo teases, following you into your quaint apartment. instead of appreciating the moment, his mind races to find an answer to the million-dollar question: why were you so intent on keeping him out of here? even in total darkness, the place is cozy, shelves adorned with knickknacks and décor that suits you. totally lost in concentration, keigo’s wings bristle and he accidentally knocks something off a shelf, but manages to catch it in his hand. you’re in the middle of saying something, but he doesn’t even notice, his eyes completely lighting up at the sight of the object.

“is this that glass bird i gave you all those months ago?” 

a nervous laugh rushes past your lips and you nod, hand falling away from the light switch. “yeah, i thought it looked nice up there. it’s pretty.”

“wow, baby,” he gingerly puts the figurine back in its place, elated by the possible significance that this little glass bird holds. “if i’d known you liked it that much, i would’ve showered you in gifts.”

in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse, you trip over your own foot, and keigo, ever the hero, catches you as gently as he did the figurine. his fingers splay across your bare side and you blink up at him, faced with another small gap that’s dying to be closed. “i know what i want as a gift,” you utter, voice low and sultry. the words seem to hang in the air like more of a promise than a request.

keigo can smell the liquor on your breath and the temptation that accompanies it—without a second thought, his lips are on yours and he’s pushing forward with alcohol buzzing in his veins. he’s so full of hope, believing the best over what he’s considered a sign of something more; it feels so right to kiss you like this, with his hands spanning your bare waist and tugging gently at your waistband. it doesn’t quite occur to him that he is inebriated and therefore may not be thinking as sharply as he would if he were sober in this situation. 

you shove forward, pushing him hard into a wall and nipping at his lips hungrily. despite being a little bothered by him being in your apartment, you can’t say you’re not interested in fucking on your own bed for once. a shaky gasp leaves you when you pull away for breath, stomach fluttering delightedly at the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh.

his breath hitches in his throat, hazy mind racing a thousand miles an hour. the question leaves his lips with more urgency than intended. “i—shit, you really want me to take you right here?”

“in the hallway?” you laugh, astonished. “i’d much prefer my bed, it’s easier for you to fuck me as hard as you want.”

desire and lust conducts your actions, has you dropping your blouse to the floor and unclasping your bra next. each article of clothing falls to the floor in a heap, forming a trail leading to the bedroom door. keigo follows your lead, wings jittering with anticipation as he crosses the threshold. billowy curtains blow up and around the window, lifted by the night breeze, and your room is dark, the details barely visible: keigo notices the many pillows on your bed (so that’s why you were on his ass about buying more than just one) and the full length mirror off to the side.

keigo stops to glance at his reflection in the mirror, fraught with the sculpted curves of muscle—each line a testament to years of hard work and dedication. dark hickeys litter his tanned skin, all left behind from the heat of many moments. momentarily, his eyes shift from the glass to you, perched on the bed and waiting for him. his fingers subconsciously graze over one of the marks, just as he recalls one of your rules, a line that had been drawn in the sand early on—no marks, nowhere near your neck or anywhere at all, even if people couldn’t see them. 

it’s a curious little thing, isn’t it? you clearly have no qualms about marking up his body, but you never let him give you some in return—he hasn’t voiced it, not yet. he exhales softly, feeling the ache between his legs flare once you call his name expectantly. it’s like a switch flips, causing his mind to sharpen and his pulse to quicken when he steps toward you.

bathed in opalescent moonlight, you sit back against your makeshift throne of pillows, eyes raking over him shamelessly, as if you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. vermilion feathers puff up and shake themselves out as the bed dips beneath his weight. “come here,” he beckons you lowly, with every intention of making you his. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

now mussed with abundant wrinkles, the bedspread shifts beneath your bodies as keigo slots himself on top of you and hastily kisses down your neck, lightly nipping at the tender skin, just enough to elicit soft moans from you. doubt melts into desire, lacing his ministrations with something more urgent. for six months, keigo has never seen or left a single mark on you, and tonight, that’s about to change—you’ve already broken the biggest rule you had by bringing him to your apartment, so how much further could this go? 

“yeah, ‘m all yours,” you whine, back arching off the bed when he bites at the soft skin of your tits, tongue lapping away the sticky tequila you spilled earlier. it’s so different—he can’t believe he went this long without making any objections. 

things are heating up fast, and that haziness from the liquor creeps up on both of you, blurring your thoughts just enough. his hips chase yours into the bed, and he eagerly grinds his hardened cock against your thighs, all over them. your voice cracks slightly when you try to moan his name, impatient as always. but keigo decides to take his time with you, kissing and biting longer than usual—he’s in no rush, not yet.

it’s intoxicating in every way possible, causing your body to swelter and thrash beneath his own. keigo’s moving fast, delighting in your pleasure and drinking in every reaction unapologetically. fuck, to think you’d denied him and yourself for so long—he should make it up to you somehow, shouldn’t he?

“dovey,” he pants, fingers slipping under the fabric of the panties appreciatively, “you wore my favorites?”

crimson fabric adorns your waistline, threaded with soft lace. for lingerie, it’s pretty comfortable: it doesn’t floss your asshole like a thong or g-string does, something you’d told keigo when you tried it on in the dressing room. he knew he’d be buying it the moment you stepped out with a bright smile on your face. seeing it on you now is surreal, and he nearly creams his boxers at the sight of it, wings conveying his thoughts for him through a tremble.

your hips rise up and off the bed so he can pull away the last bit of fabric that covers your body. “yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” you titter cheekily, shockwaves of arousal shooting straight between your thighs.

unceremoniously, your legs are thrown open and keigo’s wings flutter in amusement, always the first thing to react to whatever you have to say. “it matters to them,” keigo comments, jerking a thumb back to point at his pesky wings, “fair warning, this place might be a mess by the end of this.”

“so long as you help me deal with it tomorrow, i don’t mind,” your fingers swipe his cooling spit off your chest, and you’re a little startled as you press at a fresh hickey. it’s sticky, skin now sensitive and tingling in a way that’s just right.

fierce as always, keigo doesn’t waste any time diving between your legs, eager to fuck but even more so to eat your pussy. glistening strings of slick stick to the tender skin of your inner thighs, connecting them to each other thinly until he licks it away. “mmm, dovey,” he moans adoringly, and your pulse quickens, “taste so goddamn sweet.”

keigo’s a proud pussy eater, the filthiest and best you’ve ever met. he could be gasping for air with his face covered in your cum and yet, he’d still have something utterly nasty to say. unapologetically nose deep, he slurps loudly at your soaking cunt and pins your antsy legs down over his shoulders. 

“ngh, keigo,” you thrash forward, thighs squeezing his head like a vice while your hips uncontrollably buck into his face. “please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

“keep squirming around like that and i will,” he grunts, one hand pressing you down into the bed while the other pushes between your thighs. those tenacious gold eyes of his are hooded now, gleaming rapturously as he devours everything you have to give him like he’s been starving. loud, sloppy slurps soon fill the room, falling into cadence with your whiny moans; scarlet feathers ruffle in response to his most favorite sounds, and his hips rut carelessly into the mattress, desperately seeking friction.

your head falls back into the downy pillows, jaw dropping slackly as you unsteadily sneak a hand down to your clit, fingers seeking to rub a lustful itch away. keigo’s fingers wrap around your wrist and snatch it away from your pussy, instead guiding your hand to his head in a show of acquiescence. 

“don’t go doing that,” he groans, pulling up for air and pressing a thumb to your swollen clit hard enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, “use your words instead, dovey.”

you weakly nod his way, and a sudden, swift slap is delivered right to your clit, the force behind it causing you to see stars. a twisted yelp tears from your throat, and you’re doe eyed when you tearfully glance down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“gotta work on using your words, baby,” keigo coos, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek. “jus’ trying to make you understand that i need you to tell me what you want.”

there’s a dark edge to his voice that makes the apologetic tone he’s taken on seem ingenuine, almost a little mocking. and yet, you let out a sweet moan, leaning into his touch with a hushed, “yeah, kei. i understand.”

still reeling from the tingling impact of the pussy slap, you guide his head back down between your legs and unsteadily grind into his mouth. he greedily drinks you in, smacking his lips like he can’t get enough of your honeyed taste, and unconsciously pulling you closer. his fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit, occasionally pinching the bud to elicit a scream or two before letting go.

keigo had always been taught not to play with his food—but when she’s quaking against his face and sobbing out his name over and over, he just can’t help himself. he’s had a perpetual  mean streak that he’s only ever unleashed during sex with you, taking an overwhelming satisfaction in fucking you dumb and then teasing you about it. he notices the way your thighs tense at either side of his head, the way your head falls back whenever he tenses his tongue.

your clammy fingers claw through blonde curls, saccharine moans spilling from your lips with each ravenous push of his tongue through your folds. it’s a push and pull rhythm that is nothing less than addictive, dragging out the air from your lungs and leaving you utterly breathless. 

“g-god, keigo,” you keen loudly, shoving him down without any regard for his ability to breathe, “need you to—i need you to fuck me with your tongue.”

he groans in response, shamelessly humping the bed now that the ache between his legs has become too prominent to ignore. it flares dangerously every time you say his name or look at him with that blissed out expression written all over your face . . fuck, now you’re telling him exactly what you want and pushing him around, something he’s always enjoyed. his tongue slips into your awaiting cunt and pushes deep, tasting even more of you once he finds that puffy, spongy spot inside of you that makes you clench up every damn time. 

your breaths come in rushed, frantic gasps that soften each word. “fuuuck, right there—yeah, t-that’s it,” your voice shakes involuntarily, tight with inevitable euphoria. “kei, you’re gonna make me cum, hah—‘m real close, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

you chant those last words religiously, and keigo’s offended that you’re thinking he’d ever want to. “on my fuckin’ tongue,” he half groans, half begs, not sure if you even hear him at all.

keigo doesn’t dare to stop until you finally come undone on his tongue, shuddering uncontrollably as he licks you through your high, nearly passing out from a severe lack of oxygen. you’ve got him in a beautiful leglock that he regrets breaking out of, but seeing the dazed, drunken look on your face when he comes up erases the thought from his mind. the entire half of his lower face is covered in your cum, and heat floods your face when his pink tongue darts out to clean up his lips, all while holding your lidded gaze.

a few sanguine feathers float around your face, falling from the air like snowflakes and lightly settling on the bed like rose petals. it seems to make the moment warmer, more romantic as if this is your first time with him—in hindsight, it would’ve been nicer to christen the relationship with a bed of rose petals and scented candles scattered around the room. instead, it was something that happened fast and right after conversations about ex partners.

you pout at him as he positions himself on top of you once again, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. instinctively, you lick away the mixture of spit and slick he leaves on your lips, tasting yourself on your tongue momentarily. it’s bittersweet and a little syrupy . . maybe he really isn’t lying about you tasting like candy. your thoughts fade away when you catch a glimpse of his vibrant wings — you’ve always seen them, but not like this. this time, you’re up close to them, so close you can see the downy barbs and delicate vanes of each individual feather.

“are your wings . . sensitive?” you ask curiously, voice carrying the barest note of reverence as your hand tentatively inches over his shoulder. after each and every covert tryst of yours, you’ve seen keigo smooth out the feathers or greet you in the morning with stimulating news of his freshly scrubbed wings. but this—touching them—feels like crossing an unspoken threshold.

keigo doesn’t answer, his breath catching in his throat. he’d been in the middle of dazedly tugging his boxers down his body when you’d just dropped a miniature bomb on him. this is the first time that he’s been this astonished, features mellowing profoundly. soon, he finds his voice and uses it, words intertwined with an unexpected tenderness: “ . . it’s alright. they’re just a little sensitive, heh. nobody’s ever touched them before.”

as if they understand you’re talking about them, his wings shift toward your fingers, obviously inviting you to touch them. this is certainly new — for the first time, his defiant wings are actually yearning to be touched, even though they get a little choosy when it’s him who’s brushing his hands through the feathers. gingerly, you reach forward and your hand disappears into the mussed feathers, fingertips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin beneath. the apex of his wings is abundant with small, downy feathers that quiver at your touch.

his eyelids flutter shut and he emits a shy moan, swallowing a sudden heart-shaped lump in his throat. courage swells in your chest and you push further, awed by the all-encompassing softness that meets your fingers. you’d expected them to be coarse, rough from years of flying and smelling earthy or musky. the faint scent of mango wafts through the air, stirring up a sense of familiarity and comfort in your chest, reminding you of all the times he’d protectively wrap his wings around your body as if to steady you. 

“they feel so nice,” you murmur, feeling his cock throb against your thigh. it draws you back into the moment, where you’re naked beneath him with anticipatory legs sprawled open. “so . . soft.”

keigo’s buzzing when you experimentally stroke your fingers through the thin feathers, an intimate form of worship that is only understood between the two of you. “you, ah, didn’t expect them to be?”

a wind created by his flapping wings kick up your curtains and make the metal rings clatter on the bar they’re hanging on. “i thought they’d be a little rougher,” you purr, voice smooth and sultry as your legs lift, locking tightly around his waist. his v-line is visibly sharp and hard to the touch like cut marble against the pillowy skin of your thighs, muscles flexing as he guides his cock to your soaked pussy. 

“i’ll show you rough, dovey,” keigo huffs, smearing his cock with your slick and pulling your legs away from his sides. he’s going to fuck you up, and he can’t do it properly in this position—your feet are thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, thighs folded tightly against your chest. he’s painfully hard, leaking sticky precum all over and trembling by the time he pushes the tip of his cock between your folds. your response is immediate; an eager moan slips out of your mouth, hips bucking impatiently onto his cock.

“damn, baby,” his chest heaves tirelessly, skin flushed pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “you’re ready f’me, aren’t you?”

you look up at him with dewy eyes, electricity shooting through your every nerve. “i-if i was made for—ah—anything, it was taking your cock.”

god, you can’t just say shit like that and cluelessly think he won’t actually fall in love with you—he was only asking for a simple ‘yes’, but now he’s got hearts in his eyes as he finally pushes inside you, swallowing down the sudden urge to blow his load this fast. pulsating, gummy walls wrap around him and seem to suck him deeper without him even moving; he weakly presses his head into your shoulder, gasping frantically as he tries to adjust to the grip you’ve got on him.

“f-fuckkk,” he stutters out, regaining his cool composure after a moment despite the room feeling like a sauna, “i’m gonna hold you to that, you better not forget it.”

he’s relentless, going from zero to sixty in a second with no thoughts of slowing down — he’s jackhammering his hips, curved cock ramming right into your sweet spot and french kissing your cervix. you’re dripping wet, slick pouring down your ass and making each thrust slip ‘n slide all the more smoothly; the bed creaks ceaselessly beneath the weight of your bodies, groaning so loudly it occurs to you that it might just break. but that isn’t even a problem, not with keigo, who’d drop a ton of money on something you could just express the slightest bit of interest in.

“h-holy fuck, keigo,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed, “i could—oh my god, i could cum just from this.”

“yeah, dovey?” he grins, voice tight as he quite literally plunges deeper into heaven. “jus’ from my cock?”

sweat beads on your forehead, making your body swelter with endless steam that seems to vaporize any inhibitions you still had after all the drinks. “nghh, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum—”

“wait?” keigo practically barks out a laugh, shaking his head ruefully at you, “there’s no waiting. i want you to cum right on my cock ‘n i’ll fuck you through it, dovey.” 

you nod with mascara infused tears streaming down your face, legs quaking uncontrollably. everything seems to happen at once — a twinge of pain takes root in the backs of your thighs just as the built-up tension inside you snaps into thousands of sparks, finally igniting your long awaited orgasm.

keigo forces himself to keep his eyes open despite the fact that he’s risking an early orgasm, balls clenching at the sight of you: your lips form an o shape as euphoria washes over you, making your body quiver frenetically. he swallows dryly, closely rocking his hips against yours so you don’t push him out. 

“kei,” is the first thing you sob out when you recover, struggling to catch your breath with every thrust fucking the air out of your lungs. you’re sensitive all over, skin prickling with heat that doesn’t cool even with his wings creating a draft. 

he’s straining tight at the seams, heart pounding in his ears as he thinks of nothing but you.

you, you, you.

with your sweet, glossy-lipped smile in the mornings and the voice of a vixen when you innocently call his name. you’re nothing less than beautiful beneath him, clawing at his shoulders and staring up at him with those glazed over, blissed out eyes while your body molds against his. it’s a shape he knows well, one he’s pictured in his head when he’s all alone, one he’s been dreaming about whenever his eyes close.

his breath catches in his throat. “haah, fuck—dovey, i can’t hold it anymore.”

“right fuckin’ there,” your voice cracks into a squeal, “mhm, jus’ cum inside me.”

“you mean it?” keigo asks dumbly, nearly melting at the wild look you throw him in response.

“yeah, kei—shit, ‘m gonna cum again,” the words rush past your lips, urgent as ever and spurring him on to keep going, “i want you to—i need you to fill me up.”

something sweet flashes behind his gold eyes and he tucks his face into your shoulder, breath coming in frantic pants while he gasps your name. you’re practically in your own world, moaning loudly and dragging his slim hips closer to your own. when his cock starts to twitch deep inside you, the heel of your palm digs into his lower back, forcing his tip right against your cervix. he’s burning hot, utterly lost in you with no way of finding his way out — cum spurts from his cock and the spasms wrack his body, each stripping away a layer of him until he’s left with only his heart in his hands. 

“i fucking love you,” it rushes out and he doesn’t regret it for a second, “god, baby. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back as your body surrenders to the toe-curling sensation of your third orgasm of the night, euphoria hitting you from all directions and rendering you clinically cock drunk. you muster just enough strength to wipe the salty tears away from your eyes, teeth chattering just the slightest bit as you drag in a gasping breath. 

after a moment, you yawn, stretching out your folded body and nudging at his chest to get him to lay down beside you. “ooh, that was great, kei. there’s no fucking way i’m walking tomorrow.”

coming down is the hardest part.

keigo’s shaken to his core by your flippant response to his confession, but most of all, he’s deeply embarrassed to have said something—no, to have thought something this stupid. finally, he’s getting a taste of karma from all of his failed relationships; he wishes that he could allow himself enough pity to ask the abyss of the universe what he did to deserve this. the heat that had once been sexy dissipates immediately, leaving him as cold as a corpse. he rolls over to the side, letting go of you and staring up at the ceiling, laying on top of wings that don’t even have enough life to twitch. pathetic tears prick at the corners of his marked eyes, and for the first time, he’s happy that the lights are off.

“keigo? did you hear me?”

“sorry, i didn’t. what was it you were saying?” he drags a forearm across his sweaty forehead, overlooking the tender inflection in your voice.

“i just . . i don’t know. that was really good,” he may not hear it, but you do. quickly, you clear your throat and tug up the blankets, inviting him to crawl underneath with you. “goodnight, kei.”

he should bite his tongue, but he doesn’t; this is the last time. “goodnight, dovey.”

☆ ☆

after tossing and turning the whole night, keigo finally decides to end the torture at 5:20 am the next morning. it’s still dark out, and he figures that he can easily slip away under the cover of night. he’s got a mild hangover, but it won’t impair him, not when he’s determined to keep it together until he gets back home.

soberly, he absorbs his surroundings and recalls the memories that have been plaguing him for hours. his body tenses, thick cords of muscle pulling taut as if he’s bracing against the impact of a punch, and like it has countless times before, the scene replays in his head again. his emotional, devoted admission of love was something you’d completely ignored—again and again, you’ve only ever shown an interest in his body.

in his chest, he feels his heart clench horribly as he looks over your sleeping form. you’re curled up in yourself under the warm blankets, turned toward him with a serene look on your face that makes it all the more difficult to slip out from under the sheets and into the cold. like a cat, he silently pads into the hallway and collects his clothes as if he was never there. he’s inches away from the back door he’d been so excited to step through last night when he stops in his tracks, head hanging lowly as pangs of guilt hit him like fists. it’s not right to just leave you like this, not without making an effort to say some kind of goodbye.

keigo hesitates in the hallway, feet seemingly glued to the floor. all he can hear are loud alarm bells—every instinct is begging him to leave, to spare himself the imminent heartbreak of going back in that room to see you. against his better judgment, he eventually tiptoes into your room with every intention of giving you one final kiss. at your bedside, he bends forward and presses his lips to your forehead; the kiss is entirely chaste, the brief touch carrying a blend of quiet grief and the tenderness of a love that was bound to fall through.

like most things in his life, this kiss doesn’t go as planned. there’s a momentary flash of blue and white—he’s managed to give you a strong, accidental static shock with an innocent kiss at 5:22 in the morning. you blearily wake up, squinting up at him in confusion and making out the high collar of his hero jacket.

“good morning, keigo,” you stretch under the blankets and reach for his hand, “what—what time is it?”

“it’s early,” he answers unsurely, sitting down on the foot of the bed. his wings droop, vermilion plumes seemingly inanimate. “y’know what, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep, baby.”

“but where’re you going?” you sit up abruptly, eyes narrowing at his fully clothed body. a glance over the edge of the bed reveals that he’s even got his boots on! 

“i’ve got patrol, silly,” keigo picks the easiest excuse out of an array of choices, and you sniff it out immediately. “i’m a hero, remember?” silence hangs in the air for a moment before you slowly speak up, sounding more confused than anything else. “but saturdays and sundays are your off days.”

keigo pauses, tongue sliding over his teeth as he contemplates what to say now that he’s been caught in his lie. like an idiot, he’s managed to trap himself. you scoff, cognitive functions coming to back to life as the final vestiges of sleep fade away into the ruined morning. did he actually expect you to wake up naked and hungover, all by yourself?

“okay, you caught me. i’ve got some stuff to deal with.”

“this early? c’mon, why’re you in such a rush?”

ultimately, it’s best for the both of you if he pulls away.

keigo’s usual smile drops and he sighs, “i’ve got shit to do, okay?”

it’s this early in the morning, and your blood pressure is already spiking in a way that is most undesirable. “are you fucking kidding me, keigo?”

the way you say his name so angrily, so accusingly—it fucking irks him, causing the corners of his lips to pull downwards into a scowl. he’s not really angry at you, he’s angry at himself for causing this dilemma to begin with, but you don’t know that. how could you really know anything about him aside from the way he likes to fuck?

“why are you getting so damn pissy? i’m going to leave whether you want me to or not, okay?”

stark naked, you exit the safety of the bed and make a beeline to your dresser, where you yank open drawers in search of clothes. keigo stands, watching longingly as you pull on some panties and a bra.

“i’m getting pissy because you wanted to take off so i could wake up naked and alone! you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“i was trying to,” keigo argues back, jumping to his feet, “but you were the one who ruined that for yourself, didn’t you?”

“a kiss isn’t enough!” you snap, now covered in a loose t shirt and pajama shorts. “couldn’t you have just waited a few hours? maybe then you could’ve told me why you were leaving.”

“what the hell? so you’re saying i need a reason to go back to my own house?”

“i don’t see why you think you can lie to me!” your voice raises furiously, words sharp as daggers, “i’m not just your agent, keigo. i know you, i care about you! don’t you get that?”

it’s quickly evolved into a dangerous game of catch, the pressure to be the one to drop the ball growing heavier atop his shoulders with each passing moment. painfully, a vein in his forehead pulses from the headache brought on by the hangover and the memories that follow it. it’s been hours and he can’t seem to shake away the pain that gnaws away at him. he’s so stupid.

“yeah, i know you are,” keigo grits out bitterly, “all i wanted to do was leave.”

“so abruptly?” you press him for answers, flicking on a small lamp so you can see him clearly. deep wrinkles span the entirety of each article of clothing that hangs on his body, but it’s the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that makes him look unusually sloppy, getting you to pause as you take the sight of him in. concerned for his wellbeing, you soften, body relaxing. “what—keigo, what’s wrong?”

“it’s just the hangover,” he squints defensively, backing away and into a corner, “anyway, you got your goodbye, didn’t you?”

your gentle, worried face falls away. it hurts more than any injury he’s ever gotten, but he has to keep the walls up to protect himself from the pain even though guilt slips in through the cracks like mustard gas. with a pinched sigh, keigo backs away from the wall, wings limply hanging behind him as he prepares to exit your bedroom with no intention of ever coming back.

he’s blindsiding you, lying to you out of nowhere and slipping through your fingers like steam, too elusive for his own good. without a second thought, you close the distance and grab firmly at his wrist, a gesture that would’ve worked once. “i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters without looking over his shoulder, snatching away from you as if he’s been burned. “i just . . i can’t.”

“what’re you—what do you mean, keigo?” he looks out into the distance of the hallway, focusing on a specific floor tile and tracing its grooves so he doesn’t have to see your face. just from your voice, he knows you must be absolutely crushed. for courage, he allows himself a steady inhale before stepping past the threshold and leaving you in the lurch.

“this,” keigo turns, gesturing wildly and spitting out the words as if everything that’s happened in this room is horribly filthy, “it’s bullshit, all of it. i’m done, got that?”

there’s a beat of silence, and keigo stays a second too long.

“keigo, you’re breaking my heart here.”

you’re probably referring to the sex, aren’t you? surely you’re disappointed by the fact that you’ll no longer be fucking the no. 2 hero, petting his wings and calling him by a name few are able to.

“oh, come on,” he looks over you sourly, shaking his head as his eyes span the entirety of your body, “you’re pretty. you’ll find yourself a new fuck buddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”

immediately, he regrets saying it, feeling a rush of nausea in his stomach—he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

you blink back tears, his stare suddenly invasive and hurtful. “i don’t want a new fuck buddy, i want you.”

“tough shit,” keigo grunts, wings drooping further down. the longest feathers now drag along the floor, picking up whatever there is to offer. “i’m done being friends with benefits.”

“i just—all this fucking time, i’ve been wasting my time wanting to be with you,” the words tumble out of you bitterly, filling up the space between you with everything you’ve ever wanted to say, and his ears prick, grasping at a possible implication beneath all of it, “god, to think i was afraid we wouldn’t be able to become something more—all of this was a mistake.”

keigo pauses, heart pounding in his ears and possibly affecting his ability to hear. “you’re . . in love with me?”

“i was,” the correction is swift and choked, reverberating straight to his core and making his body stiffen. it hurts more than anything to hear, carrying a horrible weight, the kind that makes him realize you’ve given up on him.

“then why didn’t you—that doesn’t make any sense,” he gasps, the newfound information hitting him like a freight train, “if you were in love with me, why didn’t you—how couldn’t you have said something?”

“what’re you talking about?” you hiss, harshly rubbing away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. keigo’s bewildered now, face devoid of anything but shock and some kind of adoration as he seems to process something inside his head.

he stares at you desperately, struggling for the right words, “fuck, dovey, why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“don’t call me that,” you snap, the petname far too fond for a moment like this one, “why would i possibly have said something last night?”

keigo falters, and his voice cracks as the words rush out like a torrent. “i told you that i—god, i fucking told you i loved you. didn’t you hear me?” 

oh.

oh.

his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when the realization washes over your face, making him realize the gravity of this misunderstanding—you didn’t hear him.

wearily, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. he sees the way your spine curves forward, and bites down hard on his lower lip once the first sob slips out of you. in an instant, keigo’s beside you and pulling you into his arms, shaking all over. he doesn’t know what to say, but his voice breaks with endless regret when he finally comes up with something. “i’m sorry, god, i’m so sorry,” tears race down his cheeks and into your hair as he murmurs despairingly, “i thought you didn’t care, i didn’t know—”

there’s nothing more to say. 

keigo tries anyway, brokenly whispering apologies that fade into the air like smoke. his arms are tight around your body, holding you closely — it’s an unspoken promise to never let you go again. for the very first time, he truly melts into you without the walls in the way or the burden of hidden feelings. when you slowly relax against him and your sobs become quieter, something shifts in the air. vermilion wings, once held down by the weight of everything they’ve been carrying, finally come back to life. wings that have had no other purpose but to protect keigo now extend outwards to protect you too, soft feathers cradling you tenderly in the quiet of the morning. just over the horizon, the sun begins to rise, bathing the city in the light of dawn and new beginnings.

[honeytonedhottie]

starting ur healing journey⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🩹🎀

healing is so important for us to function and have good quality of life. a lot of the time its easy to brush ur mental and emotional health underneath the rug but its just as important as ur physical health, if not more important. take care of urself…💬🎀

SHADOW WORK ;

shadow work is a form of journalling that focuses on confronting our "shadows" or parts of us that we dont know well, to help kind of understand ourselves better, why we respond to certain situations the way we do etc. it rly dives into urself and ur shadows.

HOT TIP ; if u search shadow work prompts on pinterest they have some rly rly good prompts, thats where i get all of my prompts. i also have a couple posts that include shadow work prompts…💬🎀

the most common way i see people do shadow work, and the way i do it, is by using shadow work prompts and choosing a few that resonate with me. i'd answer the prompt in depth and talk about it in my journal. shadow work has helped me heal in so many ways and i highly recommend it if ur thinking about starting to do shadow work every now and then.

WHAT DO U STRUGGLE WITH ;

recognizing what triggers you and things that u struggle with help you to identify the underlying source. this is called being more aware of urself, so i challenge u to dig deeper into urself and try and find out what the BIG idea is.

some things to take note of when ur trying to identify the deeper reasons for ur behaviors, feelings etc is to look at…💬🎀

♡ what do i value

♡ what do i have the strongest opinions towards

♡ what is something that i think of all the time/why do i think that all the time

by also looking at ur biggest fears, ur strongest opinions and ur deeply held values u can kind of understand what u value most and where ur insecurities and fears stem from. something that u can also look to is the things that u regret...

STRUGGLE WITH REGRET ;

first off, understand that u should recognize, reflect and then move on because living in a past moment is stagnant and u can't expect urself to heal if ur doing so. the only thing that u rly can do is heal from it and learn from whatever u regret so much so that then in the future u dont repeat those same things.

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING GENTLE WITH URSELF ;

practice self compassion!! i swear everyone is so kind to literally everyone EXCEPT for themselves. give urself a break and humanize urself. u can do this by allowing urself to make mistakes and forcing urself out of the shame cycle. you are allowed to make mistakes cuz your human!! stop being so hard on urself.

furthermore remembering to be gentle with urself can cultivate a better relationship with self. acknowledge ur feelings and remember that whatever emotions ur feeling are totally normal and valid. doing things like…💬🎀

♡ journalling and nurturing urself, ur being gentle with urself and to me thats rly important when embarking on ur self healing journey

WAYS TO SHOW URSELF THAT U CARE ;

♡ practicing forms of self care and grooming - ur showing urself the love that u deserve and that ur worth taking care of and putting in effort for

♡ being mindful of ur health through what u eat, how much u sleep etc

♡ walking away from toxic situations, people etc and protecting ur peace in doing so

♡ getting fresh air everyday and moving ur body

♡ focus on urself and your needs before focusing on the needs of other people. you first.

SEEK AND YOU'LL FIND ;

lately most of my worries and the thing that has been putting the biggest strain on my mental health is things that i dont have the answer to. and by seeking help from some of my moots and my friends and searching on my own for answers that satisfied my curiosity i feel like i can live yk? cuz im constantly in a state of wondering and asking myself things that ik stress myself out and im working on breaking that cycle…💬🎀

[itsclydebitches]

Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.

It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.

The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.

Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...

[sapphireis]

Dark/Yan Daemon HCs

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Toxic Relationship, Implied AFAB Reader (talk about pregnancy and stuff in a part, but for the rest pretty GN), Jealousy, Manipulation, Implied Murder, Implied Kidnapping?, Daemon, OOC?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Characters: Daemon Targaryen

⤠ Dark/Yan Aemond HCs ⤟ Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Highness (Aemond) ⤟

This was requested by my bestie @kredpoison because she LOOVEESSS daemon, while i can't lmfao so sorry if those are short and bad, I literally have no ideas about this man other than i want him out of my life /j

... Yikes.

If normal Daemon is already A L O T to take care imagine dark!Daemon who is so obsessed with you that he can't fully function

It also makes him angry how obsessed he is with you, not that he cares if it is right or wrong, but mostly because he wants to do other things but you are constantly on his mind he can't do it. Not when you are free to do as you wish

We all know how he is. Obsessive. Possessive. Mean. Violent. Just because his heart beats for you doesn't mean you will be spared from his atrocities

Daemon wouldn't hurt you. Not physically at least, mentally? He's always reminding you to who do you belong to constantly, manipulating you into believing that without him you are nothing, that you need him even to breathe.

Like Aemond he is always with you. Watching, following, observing you especially when you aren't married yet or haven't taken you in to go on this many adventures. Cause he will bring you too! Daemon wouldn't want you to be lonely without him.

Or to possibly try to escape him, why would you when he has a ferocious dragon on his side? He will follow you to the end of this world if he has to, you have nowhere to hide.

Once you are his you are forever bound to be his- Daemon doesn't care how he has to get you or if you are already married, we all can imagine the fate of your spouse once he found out...

Either that or he will ruin your reputation completely like he tried to do to Rhaenyra so that you have no choice but marrying him, even if you try to explain what really happened.

He doesn't treat you so badly, you just have to get used to him. But if you are good he wouldnt manipulate you, he will even let you get near his dragon and see him actually happy and content.

Of course, just like Aemond, he will make you pregnant as soon as possible. Its not like he actually cares about having children, but more so his possessive side its content because you have the proof that you are his forever; a little babe that looks like the both of you

This work belongs to @/sapphireis, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

[zegrasdrysdale]

“who did this to you?”

with jamie drysdale

part of the 1k celly event

summary : after an encounter with an ex that leaves her with some bruising and feeling unsafe, she finds herself in Jamie's apartment, where her best friend is there for her like he always is

warning(s) : mentions of abuse / an abusive event, a past toxic relationship, oc made up for the plot

author’s note : i felt v inspired to write something for jamie so here y'all go

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't have come out tonight. That's the only thing she can think of as she sits on the back of an ambulance. Her friend is talking to authorities while her face, wrist, and hand get checked out. Her ex-boyfriend is cuffed and being put in the back of a police car.

Her cheekbone stings and she can barely see out of her left eye. Her wrist is sore from landing on it awkwardly when she fell, and her hand hurts from being able to land one punch in self defense. She spoke to the same authorities as she was making sure her hand wasn't broken from that punch she landed.

The officer she spoke to made it clear that she wasn't in the wrong. He started everything when he came up to her and harassed her. She gave him several chances to walk away when he approached her. All she did was gently push him away from her when he got too close, and he started going off on her. That's how she ended up with a bruised face, busted up hand, and sore wrist.

It was all worth it though because she's been waiting for her asshole ex to finally go to jail for what he did to her during their relationship. She has all the pictures and proof they would need to put him away for awhile when she sends it to authorities.

For now though, she needs to go home and shower. She feels gross since her ex put his hands on her. Plus, a warm shower sounds like a dream.

Her friend comes over to her when she's done talking with the officer. The EMT looks between them as he finishes up his exam.

"I don't see a reason to go to the hospital tonight," he explains. "The cut on your cheek is superficial so it doesn't require stitches. I don't suspect any broken bones but if things feel like they're not getting any better by next week then head to an Urgent Care or the emergency room. Your neuro function is intact so I don't suspect brain injury. Ice and heat on your wrist and hand, and maybe even ice your cheek and eye to keep swelling down. Over the counter meds like Ibuprofen should be strong enough to keep pain at bey but again, if it gets too painful or things don't improve, seek medical help. Any questions?"

Both girls shake their heads. "Thank you," she tells the EMT. "Glad I'm not going to the hospital tonight."

The EMT packs up the medical kit. "I wouldn't drive until the swelling around your eye goes down," he suggests.

"I drove us here today so no worries," her friend replies. "Thanks for checking her out and keeping her out of the hospital."

He nods and the girls head to the car. She looks at her friend as they approach her car. The duo get in and heat immediately greets both of them as soon as the car is turned on. She hums at the warm air. It was too cold outside in her tiny dress and now broken heels.

She looks out the window as the police car with her ex drives off.

Her ex-boyfriend is probably not happy that he's going to jail, but he'll probably get out on bail until whatever happens next. The thought of him getting out of jail makes her stomach do somersaults. She gets very nervous going back to her apartment all by herself.

As her friend pulls out of the parking lot, she asks, "Can you drop me off at Jamie's instead of my place?"

"Yeah, sure," her friend replies. "Don't feel like going back to your own apartment?"

She shakes her head and looks out the window at the passing buildings. "I don't feel very safe going there by myself," she explains. "Security isn't exactly the best."

"I get it. I'll take you to Jamie's. I was thinking about doing that for the same reason."

The car ride gets quiet after that comment. She plays with her fingers and rubs her wrist when it gets too painful.

She thinks back to the events of the night and thinks that maybe she provoked him. She did shove him away from her so maybe it is her fault that she ended up in this position. It's always her fault anyway. It was always her fault when they were together so why would now be any different?

It wouldn't be any different.

Fifteen minutes after they leave the bar, the car pulls up to Jamie's apartment building. She thanks her friend for the ride and gets out. Shaking from the cold and the night's events, she pushes the buzzer to his apartment.

Hopefully he lets her in because it's kind of late. She has to push the button for a second time and slowly begins to lose hope that he's up.

"Who is it?" Jamie's voice suddenly comes from the intercom.

"It's me," she replies. "It's cold. Can I come up?"

The door in front of her buzzes and she lets herself into the building. She takes the elevator up to the fifth floor. She makes her way down the hallway to Jamie's apartment.

She only has to knock three times before the door swings open.

Jamie's eyes widen as he takes in her appearance. The sight of him is enough to make her lip wobble as she holds back tears. He reaches up and gently cups her face. His thumb grazes the cut on her cheek.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, voice soft. "Oh my God."

"I'm okay," she tells him. "Bruised and in a little pain but I'm okay. No broken bones, no concussion. It was Evan. I went out tonight with a friend and he was there and he-" She cuts herself off. "He got too close and I pushed him away and he attacked me."

"Come here."

He pulls her into his arms and envelopes her in a hug. She buries her face in his chest, ignoring the sharp pain that accompanies her action. Her tears begin to flow, wetting his t-shirt.

The door shuts behind her. Jamie's fingers run through her curls as he just holds her.

Neither of them speak, but his hug is enough to make her feel safer than she ever has. Since their breakup, she's been terrified that Evan was going to pull something like this. She never got a restraining order because that meant she would've had to actually file a report, and that would've only pissed him off.

Being here with Jamie though, she feels incredibly safe. His arms are her home. They've always been her home. She's always wanted them to be her home.

"Let's get you changed and into bed," Jamie says. "I'm sure you want to get into something more comfortable. Plus, you look a little cold. and my bed is nice and warm."

She pulls back and looks up at her best friend. Jamie reaches up to gently dry her cheeks, avoiding the cut and bruises on her face. She leans into his touch and Jamie doesn't move his hands. She wishes she could see out of both her eyes because all she wants to do is look at Jamie.

Feelings have always been there for him. She's had some kind of feelings for Jamie for years, but it was recently when she realized that she loved him. The only place she wanted to be was here after Evan attacked her at the bar.

Her first thought when Evan was landing punch after punch was how much she wished Jamie was there to protect her. He probably wouldn't have gone after her had Jamie been there.

"Thank you for letting me crash here," she whispers. "I know it's kind of a burden with your schedule-"

"You'll never be a burden," Jamie interrupts. "You could've shown up here at three in the morning on a game day and I'd still be up and opening the door for you. You're more important than hockey, and you always will be."

Her vision gets blurry all over again as she looks up at him. "I don't deserve you," she tells him, voice cracking in the process. Jamie tries to say something but she shakes her head. "I don't, Jamie. You've always been here for me despite your crazy life. You've always made time for me no matter where you are or what's going on in your life."

"Because you're my best friend," he explains. "And I-" Jamie cuts himself off, shaking his head. "You're more important than anything that's going on in my life."

The tears fall over and roll down her cheeks. Jamie's thumbs wipe them away. "Really?"

"Really," he softly tells her. "I would drop whatever I was doing to make sure you're okay. I mean it, okay. I'd even leave practice if you called and said you needed me somewhere, even if it meant that I got benched the next game. It kills me that I wasn't there to protect you tonight. I could've prevented this."

That's what she's wanted to hear. She's been waiting for those words to pass his lips. "I wanted you there tonight," she admits. "All I wanted after was you. Jamie, I wish you could've been there to protect me, but you're protecting me now by letting me be here."

He tucks a loose curl behind her ear. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want," he tells her. "Stay until you feel safe going back to your apartment by yourself. Hell, I'd be okay if you moved in if that would help you feel safer."

She nods and sucks on her bottom lip. "Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for," Jamie whispers. "Let's go get you changed, okay? We can talk more when you're more comfortable. I'll go grab you something to wear from my closet."

She nods for a second time and Jamie lets her go to go get her some clothes. Her eyes follow him before her feet begin to move. She follows him into his bedroom and he digs through his closet to grab something for her to sleep in. She leans against the doorframe.

Jamie tosses a t-shirt and pair of gym shorts onto the bed. "I'll let you get changed," he tells her. "Come out when you're done and I'll make you something to eat or get you a snack. Whatever you want, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees. "Thanks."

He nods and pushes past her to leave the room. She grabs his wrist as he walks by. Jamie stops in his tracks and looks at her, eyebrows raised in question.

Without an exchanged word, she pulls him toward her gently. Jamie looks down at her while her eyes scan his face. She reaches up and cups his stubbled jaw, tracing his cheekbones with her thumbs. Her heart races in her chest as she gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. She lingers longer than she should before she pulls back and flattens her feet.

Seconds seem like hours as the two of them look at each other in the doorway of Jamie's bedroom. Neither of them have moved in a little bit. She doesn’t think she wants to move at this point.

Jamie makes the first move though. He returns the same cheek kiss and she closes her eyes, taking in his touch. She turns her head before he can pull back. His face is super close to hers, and he doesn’t move.

He mumbles something then crashes his lips to hers in a kiss that makes her head spin. Her fingers slide into his hair and cradle the back of his head.

She used to dream of his kisses when her feelings for him started to develop years ago. She had sweeter dreams where they would share soft kisses. There also were dreams where she would wake up and need a cold shower to calm herself down.

This is nothing like those dreams. She imagined their first kiss thousands of times, but she never imagined it would happen like this. It’s soft, yet heated. He’s being so careful not to hurt her.

That’s Jamie Drysdale.

The kiss is short, but it makes her want more. Just not tonight. It’s already been a long night.

“Get some sleep,” Jamie tells her. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Stay.”

“Not tonight. I want to make sure you’re safe first.”

“I’d be safer with you here with me,” she admits. “Don’t sleep on the couch. Stay with me. Jamie, please.”

He thinks about it for a second before he nods. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

If Jamie is going to do anything, it’s be there for her. He’s always there for her, no matter what.

And that’s what she loves most about him.

༺──────────────༻

MASTERLIST | 1K CELLY EVENT

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[starlostseungmin]

───────　𐙚˙⋆.˚ 　𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.　❞

revamping the old seungmin fic recs. since a lot of writers from my old post deactivated and i added new ones. be mindful of what you read and please reblog to share !! （ 𖹭 ） : personal favorites.　

˖˙ ᰋ ──　 18+ , fics below contains smut , mdni.

𖹭 run rabbit run. by @kwanisms 　ー 20.5k words, 18+nsfw ; seungmin is a vampire and has lived a very long life and seen many ages pass him by. he’s grown weary of immortality until he meets someone one random night who really puts things into perspective for him.

𖹭 is it over now? by @jeongin-lvr 　ー 2.2k words ; ex!seungmin, talk of past relationship, talks of arguing and slightly toxic relationship.

𖹭 midnight diner. by @hwan-g 　ー 8.2k words ; he’s seen a lot of shit in his line of work. but this—he couldn’t let this go. not when you were involved.

darling. by hwan-g　— 8k words, 18+nsfw ; it hasn’t stopped raining for weeks. as you enter his life, as you walk out of it. he just needs one chance with you.

𖹭 your biggest fan. by @jeonginsleftcheek 　ー 9.8k words.

𖹭 hands. by @bbyquokka　ー 0.7k words ; you're obsessed with seungmin’s hands and he knows it.

𖹭 what are you looking at? by @quokkawritesarchivee

𖹭 once is all it takes. by @skz317cb97　ー 5.2k words.

𖹭 marriage material. by @comet-falls 　ー 1.8k words.

thin walls. by comet-falls 　ー 4.4k words.

dirty. by comet-falls 　ー 2.9k words.

seungmin smut drabble. by comet-falls

𖹭 come over. by @multifandomfantasies 　

𖹭 seungmin drabble. by @luminois　ー reader's first time, suggestive.

ditto. by @hwajin 　ー 1.7k words.

kisses with seungmin. by @tasteracha

shy boyfriend seungmin. by @dwaekkicidal

𖹭 thread. by @seospicybin　ー 3.3k words ; the dinner with seungmin’s family going so well, until something bothered seungmin’s mind.

seungmin hard thoughts. by @ateracha

skz seungmin hard thoughts. by @astayinwonderland

bf!seungmin texts. [ fake texts ; suggestive ] by @imfoive

˖˙ ᰋ ──　 13-16+ , fics below contains pure fluff and angst.

𖹭 try and take me ft. han jisung by @latteseungs 　ー 5.6k words ; where han jisung is an annoying piece of shit for bothering you all the time when you’re trying to get a date with kim seungmin.

engagement ring. by @kim-seung-mo 　ー 1.4k words ; your childhood best friend and boyfriend since high school, kim seungmin, has finally decided to propose to you! but the proposal ring he bought…… seemed a bit too small?

𖹭 won't go home without you. by @gamerwoo 　ー 2.5k words ;  “it’s not over tonight, just give me one more chance to make it right. i may not make it through the night. i won’t go home without you.”

𖹭 take a shot. by @starseungs 　ー 19.4k words ; it really shouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn’t get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

𖹭 the subtle art of cliche confessions. by starseungs 　ー 2.5k words ; as aware as you were that life wasn’t like the fictional stories of romance that you enjoyed, a part of you still relished the thought of experiencing it for yourself.

𖹭 universe. by starseungs 　ー 2.5k words ; every day, he thanked the universe for placing you in his life. out of the millions of heavenly bodies in the vast sky, you outshone every single one in his eyes. he was waist deep in a slowly sinking phenomenon he could only describe as love.

of fishes and chocolate muffins. by starseungs　ー 1.2k words ; working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.

college!crush seungmin. by starseungs

𖹭 [9:01PM] by starseungs

# 001. by starseungs

19:46. by @portalhan 　ー 0.8k words ; your boyfriend seungmin takes it upon himself to make sure you've eaten, in spite of your insane workload.

battleground. by @hwangism143 　ー 21k words ; you hated your co-president, kim seungmin. but, it's your last year of high school and prom planning is up to the two of you. you just expect getting work done and leaving school. what you don't expect however, is kim seungmin looking after you (considering you never do) and you coaxing him into being your prom date.

cresent. by @starlostastronaut　ー 0.9k words ; night walk with your boyfriend in london.

ex!seungmin. by @soobnny

dating him. by soobnny

𖹭 cops and robbers. by soobnny　ー 3.8k words ; fuckboy kim seungmin takes interest in the quiet, photography major who lives just across his dorm.

𖹭 [10:50p.m.] kiss at the other’s place + out of love. by @scxrlettwxtches

[11:34PM] — light breeze. by @myjisung

𖹭 proofreader (bf) seungmin. by @neo-shitty

𖹭 married couple vibes. by @arafilez

seungmin as a boyfriend. by @blue-jisungs

a chance. by @seungly

after a day out. by seungly

one with the unrequited love. by @zoe8stay

heart burn. by zoe8stay

voice messages from seungmin. by zoe8stay

beyond love. by @milkybonya

library loser. by milkybonya

the five times seungmin shows you he loves you quietly. by @sadienita

but i love you. by @ppiri-bahng

when he’s in a bad mood all he needs is you. by @rachalixie

sleepy seungmin. by rachalixie

sip of chamomile tea. by @chachachannah

enemies to lovers with seungmin. by @hyunverse

i love the rain. by @seungfl0wer

sip of chamomile tea. by @chachachannah

enemies to lovers with seungmin. by @hyunverse

i love the rain. by @seungfl0wer

₍ ᐢ..ᐢ ₎ *；　 don’t forget to reblog and leave feedbacks for the writers !! will add more soon. enjoy reading folks !!

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for dating a 27 year old man?

I (31M) have been with my boyfriend (27M) for over a year now. We met in college but didn’t really talk or anything because we didn’t have classes together but met up later on Facebook and actually got to know each other. After months of talking, video chatting and needing out about similar stuff he told me he liked me. We started going out and now we’re a thing.

People say he is too young for me. We’re both at similar life stages though - both moved out, both can drive, both working retail. Only difference is I don’t have my degree yet due to health problems and work making it hard for me to take a full course load but I’m close to done now - only a semester left until I catch up to him in terms of being a real adult.

Anyway, people say our relationship is toxic and imbalanced. They say it’s a case of grooming because of the age difference and that he should be with someone still in their 20s. I could obviously understand why people would be concerned if, for instance, we started dating when he was 20 and I was 24. That would’ve been really weird. That’s two completely different life stages right there. However, I think 27 and 31 are a lot closer together in terms of life stages.

 There is one thing I feel guilty about. I have a physical disability. I mentioned early on that I had issues with my physical health (chronic pain). I’m fairly functional most of the time, but sometimes I have flareups. During these flareups, he made the decision to help me out.  By that, I mean that sometimes he helps me come over and move heavy things or give me rides to places like the doctor if I’m in too much pain to drive. I don’t make him do these things, but he has offered.

Some people have said that, even if we were the same age, it would be wrong for me to date him In this condition. They described me allowing him to do those things as taking advantage of him and that’s something I do feel guilty about. It’s not one-sided. I also try to be able assistance to him whenever he needs it. 

They also mentioned that he can do better than me and deserves someone younger, healthier, who has an actual degree and makes more money. When I bring this up though, he doesn’t seem like he wants to leave. He told me he likes me and he wants to still be with me. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[novlr]

Do you have any tips on how to write a character who’s being manipulated?

Your blog has been very helpful to me! :) thanks a lot

Quick Tips for Writing Manipulative Characters

To convincingly write a character who is being manipulated, you must first understand how to write a believable manipulator. Often hidden in plain sight, manipulators pull the strings, guiding the actions of those who are often unaware that they're dancing to someone else's tune.

Let’s look at manipulators as puppet masters, exploring how they function and how their actions echo throughout your story. By understanding the manipulator, you'll better equip yourself to create realistic characters who are unwittingly under their sway.

How do they behave?

Play the victim to garner sympathy

Charming and persuasive

Twist and distort the truth to suit their agenda

Play mind games

Are silver-tongued

Passive-aggressive when confronted

Use guilt to control others

Don’t hesitate to lie or deceive

Demonstrate a sense of entitlement.

Project their feelings onto others

How do they interact?

Play different roles with different people

Prefer indirect communication to direct confrontation

Gaslight others, making them doubt their own perceptions

Shift the blame onto others

Exploit others' vulnerabilities

Use people’s secrets against them

Make others feel obligated or in debt to them

Use flattery to get their way

Create conflict between other characters

Deliberately create confusion and chaos

Describe their body language

Maintain intense eye contact

Use touch to seem friendly and intimate

Facial expressions often don't match their words

Use large, expressive gestures to dramatise

Have a confident and exaggerated posture

Soften expression to look more trustworthy

Smile artificially or excessively

Lean in close, invading personal space

Mirror others’ behaviours to seem more likeable

Mimic emotions they may not feel

Describe their attitudes

Believe they are always right

Feel entitled and superior

Lack empathy

Highly competitive

Often impatient and intolerant

Controlling and like to be in charge

Rarely apologize sincerely

Often play the martyr, acting self-sacrificing

Can be sceptical of others’ intentions

Kindness is often an act

Positive narrative effects

Paradoxically, manipulative characters can have a positive narrative effect on those they manipulate. These characters can act as a catalyst for change, pushing others to unlock hidden potential and indirectly teaching them to be more cautious. In the face of manipulation, characters can mature and grow resilience.

Manipulative characters can also reveal people’s true natures by tricking them into revelations or by fostering unity as others band together against them. Furthermore, their actions can create dramatic plot twists, make people question their own perceptions and realities, and add intrigue.

Negative narrative effects

Manipulators can cause emotional and psychological distress, breed distrust and insecurity, and disrupt relationships and friendships. These characters often lead others to make damaging decisions, creating a toxic environment.

By exploiting and exposing others' vulnerabilities, manipulators make individuals question their self-worth. The extent of their manipulation can even cause physical harm and lead to the downfall of other characters. Their lasting legacy? Emotional scars that define their victims long after the manipulator has exited the narrative.

[angstflavoured]

I would love to hear more about your toxic pim and charlie headcanons. All I can think of is Pim might be too desperate to prove something and Charlie has that "alpha male" thing

SO GLAD YOU ASKED !!!! I need to rant about this to clear things up bc I think about how Charpim would work so much and it makes me go insane bc their dynamic is fucking incredible.

Ill take this as an opportunity to do a little character study and explain why i think they would inherently be toxic at their very core 👹👹 and how I think their relationship would even function.

First off, a HUGE roadblock is the fact that they have completely different ideals. They want totally different things in life and go about life almost in completely opposite ways.

Pim's been shown in canon multiple times to want a normal, healthy, nuclear family. He wants a wife and kids and wants to raise them well and be the father figure for them that he himself never had. It's apparent that he wants to settle down, and just hasn't found anyone willing to. When he even talks to Shrimpina, he can't help puking and making a fool of himself and tossing and turning at night over it. This makes it clear that while i do NOT AT ALL think he's a virgin, Pim doesn't have a lot of experience with this kind of stuff. It's probably all been pretty awkward and never lasted very long.

I don't think that him or Charlie have any problems with being gay, but I do think that Pim settling down with a guy does inherently shatter his ideals. ESPECIALLY with the way Charlie acts. Being with Charlie wouldn't be a picture perfect movie couple, and I think that would really frustrate and disappoint Pim when Charlie doesn't act like he's "supposed" to. He wouldn't really be a BOYFRIEND to him. Pim is just a lot more romantic and holds a lot more hope in the idea of love than Charlie does. He's an optimist and Charlie is VERYRYYY much a pessimist.

The way that Charlie goes about relationships is MUCH more laid back and casual. His girlfriend (who IS CONFIRMED to be his girlfriend by Zach himself in the commentary videos, you can find it pretty easy on YouTube) is hardly ever mentioned and doesn't seem to hold much weight to him at all. To me, that whole thing with her being there kind of confirmed that Charlie casually hooks up with people/dates a lot, and doesn't really take it all that seriously. He doesn't have any intentions of settling down or moving in with anyone. Even in the ep where the fucken mustard chick was flirting with him, Charlie didn't seem to give two shits or even get a little flustered. He'd USED to that kind of stuff, where Pim isn't.

It's been a joke multiple times that even for a critter, Pim is perceived as pretty unattractive and weird looking 😭😭 and that's the biggest difference between them I think. Charlie is single BY CHOICE, while Pim is single because he can't get anyone who wants to long term date him.

If Charlie and Pim ever slept together or did anything, I think it would hold a lot more weight for Pim than it would for Charlie. Charlie is a fucking asshole! He doesn't show affection well, he's pretty inconsiderate of other people, he's very slobby and hardly takes care of himself. He wouldn't want to DATE pim the way that Pim would want to date Charlie. Pim would want to do all that mushy stuff that he's seen in movies that he's never been able to try, like holding hands and cuddling and going out to cute dinners.

CHARLIE WOULDN'T WANNA DO THAT! He's VERY CLEARLY SHOWN in canon to not be that kinda guy. He can hardly even think about himself, he doesn't have the time or want to expend the energy thinking about someone else on a daily basis. Just look at the fucking difference in their rooms--

They work at the same job at the same position, they should be making the same amount of money. And from the Brazil episode where they talk about funds, it doesn't seem like its a super lot. But Pim spent more time and money making his room look nice and his sheets and pillows match, somewhere with a nicer view and cute painted walls. Charlie just bought the cheapest, ugliest little shithole he could find.

You can fucking bet that they would not be good living together, that is if Charlie even wanted to live with him. You can literally see in the back that his sink is full of dirty dishes bro. He probably uses paper plates and plastic cups for everything so he doesn't have to do the dishes, you can bet he's always ordering nasty ass takeout food.

Also sorry, but like please open your eyes and look at the way Charlie treats Pim in the show. Obviously he cares about him and holds him as a dear friend, but he just is kinda a shitty person and doesn't do it very well a lot of the time. He's constantly fucking negative and rude, and it clearly takes a mental toll on Pim. Pim's always the one trying really hard to invite Charlie out to things, like in the alien episode. Pim just wants to hang out and tried to find something Charlie might like, and Charlie was grumpy and dismissive and tried to leave multiple times.

In the most RECENT EPISODE, he got in a physical fight with Alan and was being a dick about physical contact that he basically initiated. In the alien episode, Charlie was screaming at the aliens and ignored pim, ended up clocking him in the fucking face and didn't say a single word about it because HE WASN'T SORRY, HE DIDN'T FUCKING CARE.

they're both incredibly flawed people in completely opposite ways, and they'd both want entirely different things out of the other one. They'd both be trying to change each other, the way they literally already do in the show.

i love charpim more than anything with my entire soul, and im not trying to be a doomer about it, im just so sick of people potraying them like

Charlie: I... I like you... is that okay?

Pim: yes.... would it be okay if I kissed you?

LIKE GIRL WHAT ARE YOU SAYINGGGG THEY ARE GROWN ASS, DIRTY, GROSS MEN WITH DICK AND BALLS.

There was a whole episode where pim literally turned into a fucking crazy ass creature because he was so incredibly jealous of Charlie getting what PIM had wanted. Pim wanted to be a hero and help people and save the day and live out his little idealized world, and when CHARLIE got that and he didn't, it pissed him the fuck off. He wasn't happy for Charlie, Pim WANTED what Charlie had.

LIKE OH MY GOD, THEY'RE JUST SO DISFUNCTIONAL!!!

Their relationship would be fucking crazy and rocky and TOXIC, and that's like the whole appeal of it imo. that's literally how they act in canon. I think that the two of them could eventually work things out to be pretty happy, but it would NOT be without its hardships and it definitely would still never be anything even close to textbook.

THEY'RE FUCKING FREAKS IDK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also almost forgot, not even to mention Charlie's substance abuse and how its canonically shown he gets rude and violent. like r u kidding.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Okay, hear me out-

Semi-loveless and co-dependent Starspeaker AU

Starflight quickly gets with Fatespeaker in order to move on from Sunny, as she advised him to do. However, as their relationship progressed, he still was grieving the rejection he experienced from Sunny more than loving the dragon he’s currently with. He loves Fatespeaker, he really does, but not as much as Sunny. Not as just as his best friend he’s grown up with for years, who’s still living and interacting with him to this very day. He’s been unintentionally using Fatespeaker as a way to move on from heartbreak, but he doesn’t fully realize this and the damage he’s been doing until it’s far too late.

While Fatespeaker quickly gets with Starflight’s due to her rushed, intense, bubbling feelings for him since the day they met. But as their relationship progressed, Fatespeaker realized that Starflight doesn’t love her in the way she wish he does. That’s he’s still dealing with his remaining romantic feelings for Sunny, all while in a relationship with Fatespeaker. That he also is ignorant to why Fatespeaker has faith towards her “visions”, due to him not understanding how could someone ever rely on something so inaccurate and untrue. Not thinking that while Fatespeaker’s visions may not be real, they’re real to her - and that’s an important thing to understand about her. As Fatespeaker’s relationship with Starflight grows, she was at first unaware of it, then in denial about it. But when it came to the point that she had to face that reality, that she finally realized that, well…she didn’t just get with Starflight because she loves him, didn’t she? No. She did it because she was trying to desperately cling onto the first and only dragon who isn’t downright awful to her.

When they got together, their reliance towards each other grew in an unhealthy way. 

Due to Starflight’s disability, Fatespeaker became his assistant within the JMA library. She helped him without taking of the library. She was the only one there to directly help him while his friends were busy with their own duties within the mountain. This resulted in Starflight’s understandably feeling co-dependent on Fatespeaker. But not just for help within his daily life. It eventually resulted in him to feel like he needs stay in his relationship her in order to be a properly functioning individual. He felt like he needs Fatespeaker in order to move on from Sunny in the way she wants him to. Which results in his co-dependency on Fatespeaker to grow in an unhealthy way.

While Fatespeaker feels like she needs to be with Starflight, and to cling onto his relationship with him, in order for her life to be happy. In order to her be worthy of existing, worthy of affection, worthy of love. Fatespeaker was never loved nor respected throughout her life. Starflight was the first dragon to treat her with common decency. Because of this, she instantly emotionally attached to him. She feels like no else can truly appreciate her for who she is. The rest of Starflight’s friends are connected to her, but not like how Starflight is. Even Sunny, the very dragon Fatespeaker instantly befriended the moment they met, became annoyed by her, due to her immense belief to her “visions”. Because of this, Fatespeaker feels like Starflight is the only main thing that makes her life good, better and happy. This results in her to she grows unhealthily co-dependent on him so she can experience happiness and love within her life.

They’re unhealthy towards each other not because they’re intentionally being toxic to one another, but instead due to their trauma, difficulties, as well as their struggles with their emotions and connections with others, they feel the feed to desperately and co-dependently cling onto each other in order for them to gain happiness and stability within their lives, as the ideal image of their love breaks and crumbles apart as their relationship gradually progresses within their lives.

BTW sorry if this confession is weird or wrong in any way, I wrote the majority of this around 3:00 am - 4:00 am when I didn’t go to sleep yet lol.

.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

So I just finished Chapter Eleven of Heavenly Tyrant, and THIS has just happened (below the break for spoilery reasons):

"How do you propose I do anything while confined to this single room?" [asked Qin Zheng] "You can still make speeches. You can still go on camera. You can call officials here or talk to them over the networks. Plenty of women live their lives confined to a handful of spaces. It's what you were doing to me. Surely you can handle the same." [said Wu Zetian]

And like...on the one hand: Hell YES, clap back, queen. He's literally being the most hypocrite. And as a woman who has been told to sit down and shut up only to watch grown-ass men pitch hissy fits for being asked to "please let her finish speaking," I am HERE to enjoy a little schadenfreude.

On the other hand... Girl, he just got told that he functionally has no immune system. What's a common cold for you could kill his ass miserably if he so much as pokes his nose outside. As someone who is immunocompromised (which is not the same as lacking immunity to common illnesses), I totally empathize with the whole, "it takes almost nothing to make me horrifically ill" thing, and how much that curtails one's ability to like...do stuff. Or participate in social life.

Xiran Jay Zhao was NOT messing around when they said this was a mutually toxic relationship, and I'm just kind of in AWE how fucked up it is. A+, no notes.

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Heya! Your writing looks pretty nice hehe! Don't mind me asking for something a little special!

How about Yandere!Kujou Sara with a shy, timid reader? Perhaps the reader is scared of her at first, but once they start to slowly open up, she starts getting endeared and attached? I hope you have fun with this idea!

I did have a lot of fun with it. I didn't exactly see Sara as a possible yandere type until I started thinking of this scenario- even though I think I could do it better. I just can't tell what would I need to change to be honest.

Yandere! Sara with a timid S/O

Cw: manipulation

Reader here is: Gender neutral

Disclaimer: everything in purple text is Sara's narrative so these notes especially aren't meant to be taken seriously. This is not healthy. This entire scenario isn't showing a healthy relationship. Nor is it gloryfing it.

At first she didn't pay any attention to you. Your lives bearly ever crossed and you liked it that way. She was... A bit terrifying.

Her cold glare, her strictness. It was just hard to see past it. It's like she was allergic to smiling.

But fate has it that it likes to mess around. Things changed, slightly but they did either way.

You were helping a friend out run a stall during a festival. It was pretty hard for you given how you didn't want to interact with people.

Luckily, you didn't have to do much around the customers... Until your friend went to take a break.

You were all by yourself. Eventually you were yelled at by a customer and just as luck would have it- Sara was passing by.

Seeing that person cause a ruckus she stopped that person without even second of hesitation.

She was your hero, and you couldn't thank her enough. The way you held onto her hand shaking, your eyes avoiding hers as if she'd turn you into stone if you dared to look... It was captivating.

There was just something in the way you acted. She couldn't put a finger on why was that... But she wanted to feel that again. Even if it meant placing you in an uncomfortable situation once more.

She started following you. You were unaware of it but your gut told you something was off. Your friends dismissed it as you being too paranoid and that nothing was wrong.

And they were right to think that, after all she was only looking out for you. In time, you'll see that. It was normal for Sara to walk around Inazuma so any place you "accidentally" bumped into her felt natural.

Eventually you started interacting more with each save. Her black wings almost looked like that of an angel to you. She was happy when you started to actually talk... Even if neither of you knew what to talk about exactly. But it was fine as long as you looked only at her.

Whenever you smiled at her she felt things unlike any other... But she liked whenever she made you feel safe much more. She wanted you to rely on her.

She loved feeling useful. You had to have her by your side or else you wouldn't know how to function.

She was attached to a point where she took you everywhere. She didn't want to be away for even a moment. At first you just thought it was because of the fact that you freshly started dating... But it was only partly the reason.

You didn't want to see her wrongs. You were so focused on the times she helped you, you didn't think about how toxic she was becoming. Then again, how is keeping you safe toxic? Sure sometimes she overreacted but that's because she loved you.

[starlit1daydream]

Witches & Heirs: Adherence and Manipulation

Well, here we are again. It's always such a pleasure. (Do you remember when you tried to kill me twice, blah blah blah...)

Witches & Heirs are a pair with a lot of material to work with, owing to the fact that Homestuck's main protagonist happens to fall under this category; though comparatively the other characters in the group (besides Jade, fellow Main Character) happen to be relatively obscure.

...But I've also written a whole goddamn analysis on one of them, so this should be fine.

The Witch:Heir class dichotomy embodies adherence, manipulation and fundamentally, control. This is both control over the Aspect, and the control the Aspect has over the person - and practically functions as a means to manipulate & bend the Aspect freely.

Canonical Witch players are Jade Harley (Witch of Space), Feferi Peixes (Witch of Life) and Damara Megido (Witch of Time).

Canonical Heir players are John Egbert (Heir of Breath), Equius Zahhak (Heir of Void) and Mituna Captor (Heir of Doom).

Point A, the narrative function of the Witch.

Narratively speaking, the Witch is the Class of active manipulation. What this translates to is a person whose Aspect has a heavy influence & sway over their life and their actions, which ends up manifesting in them growing to control & influence it in rebellion. And therein lies the key word everyone uses when analysing Witches - rebellion.

The Witch is somebody who rebels against their Aspect. They bend the rules, play around with it, they think they're above its whims. And this, more often than not, is because they don't want it to try and control them in turn.

Jade Harley, Witch of Space, spends her whole life in isolation. Space has her under its thumb, she's got one big, floating empty canvas to play around in and nobody else to inhabit it with. She's so far away from anyone or anything, and has no freedom to explore it to her heart's content because of the fucking First Guardian that keeps teleporting her around.

Feferi Peixes, Witch of Life, has her future decided for her. She's the princess & the heiress to a colossal empire, and the trajectory & development she's meant to undergo is pre-planned. Her life isn't her own to control, and she has to worry about a titanic sea monster that'll kill everyone on the planet if she doesn't tend to it.

Damara Megido, Witch of Time, finds closure to be something hard to swallow. All the toxic & debilitating relationships in her life, she can't bring herself to burn the bridge until the bridge starts burning her - and that's when she resorts to pulling teeth and cutting off heads. And her post-scratch self ends up being groomed & made to serve the Lord of Time himself.

Noticing a pattern here? Witches often find themselves literally controlled by a grand manifestation of their Aspect. Becquerel for Jade, Glb'golyb for Feferi & Lord English for Damara/The Handmaid.

And this brings us to the point that Witches want to rebel against these forces of control. Jade has to learn to break the rules, to disobey her guardian & travel as far from that desolate rock as she can.

Feferi wants to bring great, sweeping change to the whole empire and everything underneath it, she's got big dreams & wants to change the way that everyone's lives grow and develop.

Damara figures out that she doesn't have to take shit & deal with abuse because she can end things, and oftentimes in her situation that means ending lives. And, furthermore, bringing about total oblivion with the Scratch.

(Damara was totally justified in doing that, by the way. Fuck you, Meenah & Rufioh).

This leads to the fairly digestible Point B of the Witches' practical function.

The Witch controls their Aspect to an absolute. The power they gain is to manipulate it and make it do whatever the goddamn hell they want it to do, best exhibited with Jade who gains complete dominion over physical space; which ties directly into her Quest.

Even then, there's still an upper limit to her strength, but from what we see of her God-tiered self (and she's unfortunately the only Witch to reach the God-tiers), Space basically becomes her bitch.

It's one of the most straightforward power sets of any class. Manipulating the Aspect is pretty simple to grasp, and it's moreso the narrative idea of a Witch that's harder to explain.

Point C, the narrative function of the Heir.

Heirs find themselves in an opposing situation, but like the Witches, the Aspect has them under its' thumb. Like the Witch, they find themselves with a huge influx of their Aspect that they don't really get a say in - though I think the difference is that the Heir isn't aware of it as much.

John Egbert, the Heir of Breath, is unrestrainable. He's impossible to keep down or chain in a way that matters, and that often applies to him being impossible to sway emotionally as well. He just glides, freely, from one thing to another without a care in the world - obeying every whim of Breath and disallowing himself the time to dwell on one thing and process it.

Equius Zahhak (yes, I'm going here again) feels empty. He has no substance to himself, and he despises it. Every single facet of his life, he feels is controlled by the untenable nothingness inside him that he can't fight back against, and Void is all he feels he has to him.

Mituna Captor, the Heir of Doom, is fate's chewtoy. He's overwhelmed by prophecies & foretellings of Doom, finds himself repeatedly suffering & stagnating as the world subjects him to misfortune after misfortune, and ultimately sacrifices his own sanity & stability for the greater good.

(And, of course, I don't think I need to mention how the Psiionic gets the raw end of the deal as well).

The Witch uses their Aspect. The Heir is used by it. And though these often overlap, the passive nature of the Heir means they're far more likely not to fight the control their Aspect has over them.

Point D also ties neatly into this, the Heir's practical function.

In the sense that they may metaphorically be consumed by their Aspect to the logical extreme, they are literally granted the ability to become it.

Not only is John seen turning himself into gusts of wind, but further on in the story once he gets his 'retcon' powers; he basically becomes untethered from the narrative. He's unable to stop himself from jumping between places & ideas, becoming instability in its purest form.

This means Equius could become invisible, which is really funny.

So, overall, I find that the Witches & Heirs are deceptively simple to comprehend - and that perhaps my initial frustration with trying to work with them comes from me searching for a hidden complexity that wasn't there. The key words here are definitely control & rebellion, and the way that manifests in them.

I wouldn't go as far as to say their sessions always have this great influx of their Aspect, because I think it's more personal to them - but often the metaphorical cloud of their Aspect that follows them ends up influencing other people around them. That's how changing the Aspect works, right? Change with it, change through it, change it itself. That's the joining point of both Classes; they change.

(That's interesting in of itself because it implies Feferi as someone who changes change, but that's something I'll focus on more when I write about Life; which happens to be my own Aspect anyways).

Next week, the post will be about the most controversial players in Homestuck analysis; The Princes & Bards.

(...oh, christ, please don't make me write about the Makaras).