#perhaps the second one but still hard to believe it happened twice

[prythianpages]

'Cause It Was Always You | Azriel x Reader

summary: After eavesdropping on multiple conversations, Azriel finally gathers the courage to confess his feelings to you, thinking he's on the verge of losing you.

word count: 1,741

warnings: I guess angst at the beginning? But I promise it ends with fluff!

a/n: Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather has been on repeat in my head and it prompted this cute little idea. Also shoutout to @nocasdatsgay for helping me with a codename for Az.

“I fear I’ll love Lapis until the day that I die…until the light leaves my eyes…until I’m in the grave, rotting awa–”

“y/n, you’re drunk,” Feyre had giggled.

“Drunk in love,” you sang in response with a giggle of your own.

And when one of Azriel’s shadows reported the silly little smile on your face, the silly little sparkle in your eyes, he shrunk back into the ones that had remained. His heart sank to his stomach, a cold, heavy weight settling there. 

Because you were in love. 

With someone that wasn’t him.

Azriel told himself that was the last time he’d eavesdrop. And perhaps, that wouldn’t have been a lie, if it wasn’t for the pesky little shadow that followed you around. It enjoyed dancing and flitting around you. Sometimes, it’d make its presence known by weaving through your hair or slithering up your arm. Most times, it’d trail behind you, like a little duckling.

Azriel tried to call the shadow back home but it was unwavering, choosing to linger in your presence instead. The same way he wished to linger by your side. And recently, the inky traitor had gotten into the habit of summoning more of his shadows to your side, weaving an invisible bond between you and him.

Every time a shadow returned to him, it brought whispers of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the softness in your voice when you spoke of Lapis. Each word you uttered about that male tore him apart, every confession cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

“If you don’t ask Lapis out, Jasper will do it for you and believe me when I say you do not want that to happen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll ask him out. Tomorrow.”

That was a snippet of a conversation his shadows had reported to him earlier, cutting his morning training short. It lingered with him, haunting him throughout the day. And now, he found himself unable to sleep, constantly turning in his bed.

Azriel’s stomach twists into a tight knot, the storm raging outside echoing his inner turmoil. Tomorrow. He was running out of time.  Fear and perhaps, even pride, kept him from telling you how he truly felt about you. But now, he found himself fearing something even worse. Losing you before he even had a chance to say it…

He didn’t want to wake up one day and regret his silence, regret not telling you how he felt because of pride or fear. He needed to do this for himself, to break free from the shadows of his past. He had failed to confess his love twice before, and the thought of a third failure was unbearable. This time, he couldn’t let fear hold him back. The risk of losing you to someone else was a pain he couldn't endure.

With a deep breath, Azriel steeled himself. He needed to find you, to tell you the truth about his feelings. Before anything between you and Lapis could blossom. He couldn’t let another moment pass without you knowing how deeply he loved you.

Which is how he found himself at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, clothes sticking to him like a second skin as the rain pours relentlessly down on him. His shadows stir in excitement, whispering anxiously as they hear your approaching footsteps. His heart is pounding, so fast and hard that he fears it’s going to explode.

“Azriel?” 

Your voice is still marred by sleep as you blink up at him. That traitorous shadow hovers behind you, peering at him over your shoulder. He glares at it, and it quickly hides behind your hair. You don’t seem to notice it, either unfazed or truly oblivious to the shadow that had been following you around for so long.

“Did something happen?” You speak again, brows furrowing in concern. You step back into your apartment, a silent gesture for him to follow after you and come inside. 

“I–” Azriel begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He can’t even bring himself to move as his eyes catch the movement of your arms wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill of the downpour. The nightgown you’re wearing is thin and short. A  glimpse of your exposed skin has a warmth rushing to his face and he’s blushing.

"I—" He tries again but when his eyes meet yours, his heart leaps into his throat, choking off his words. Oh gods, he can’t do this. He’s grateful for the rain as it masks the tears beginning to sting at his eyes. He thinks he’s going to be sick and–

“Are you okay?”

His shadows push him forward, wings shuddering in response. It’s now or never. He can do this. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you.” 

The words spill out in a rush, raw and unguarded. He watches you with bated breath, his shadows whispering every nuance in your expression—from the way your eyebrows raise and your mouth parts as a gasp escapes, to the way your eyes glisten with something he’s too scared to discern.

You’re rendered speechless, the silence that follows feeling like an eternity. Azriel’s wings slump, growing heavy. He clears his throat, averting his gaze. The need to retreat is overpowering what little courage he had gathered moments ago. 

“That’s all I had to say. I should, um–I’ll be leaving now,” he stammers, so unsure and so unlike himself.

“Az–” you start, reaching out to him, but he’s already stepping back into the rain. He doesn’t think he can face your rejection, much less witness the look on your face if you don’t feel the same.

“Goodnight.”

His shadows are like a wall of resistance, fighting against him as he turns to make his leave. He asks them—begs them, even– to swallow him whole. To winnow him away and save him from further mortification. But they refuse. Stay, they insist, tugging and weighing his wings down. 

It leaves him with no choice but to walk away. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rain soaking him to the bone. Listen, his shadows urge as they continue to tug relentlessly at his wings for him to turn back around and face you. 

But he can’t. Not when the Mother has seemed to have cursed him with loving those who could never love him back.

“Azriel!”

His mind screams at him to keep going, to keep walking away. However, the plea echoed in your voice has his chest tightening. His heart overrides his mind, shadows only encouraging him further. He turns around just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

Your legs wrap around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a desperate effort to keep him from leaving. His own arms respond immediately, securing you to him. 

“Don’t go.”

Your breath is warm against his neck as you tighten your embrace, and his wings curl around your smaller form in response, wanting to shield you from the relentless rain. He feels you shift in his arms, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. One hand reaches out, tenderly brushing the dark fringe from his forehead. His breath catches, and you must sense his inner turmoil because you gently smooth away the furrow of his brow with your thumb.

“I love you,” you say, your hand caressing his cheek. Despite the cold, harsh downpour, your touch is warm and soft. A balm to his frayed nerves.

His heart swells with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He had prepared himself for rejection, for the familiar sting of unrequited love. But here you were, confessing your love to him with the same vulnerability he had shown you.

“Really?” he whispers, voice thick with emotion, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Really.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with relief. “I thought I’d never have the chance to tell you.”

“Lose me? Azriel, you’ve always had me.”

“But you said you loved Lapis? You were going to ask him out–”

“So you were spying on me!”

Azriel’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing all over again and he’s glad it’s dark enough to conceal it. “No–I–not intentionally…my shadows, they…,” he trails off, realizing how ridiculous he must sound.

Yes, his shadow refused to come back to him. But he didn’t stop the others from reporting back to him so with a defeated sigh, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Azriel,” you giggle and he’s frowning at you, not finding the humor in the situation. “You are Lapis.”

“What?”

“You’re Lapis. Cas is Jasper and Rhys is Amethyst.” You explain, lips curling into an amused smile at the sigh of relief that comes from Azriel. How had he not realized that all those names shared one thing in common? And more importantly, that they were color coded to his and Cassian’s siphons?

“I needed a codename for you so I can gush about my feelings for you without, you know,” you tilt your head toward that nosey, barely visible shadow that had been following you around. Sensing the attention, the shadow dips and hides again, curling around the back of your neck. 

“I fear it’s yours now,” Azriel replies, almost sheepishly.

“Good,” you smile at him. “I’ve grown rather fond of it. Just as I have over its master.”

His shadows take your words as a welcome invitation, swirling and dancing around you both. Azriel’s arms hook underneath your thighs, pulling you even closer to him. Your arms find their place around his neck again.

Then, you're closing the small distance between you and kissing him. Warmth spreads throughout him, reveling in the sweet sensation of your lips against his. The rain continues to pour, but neither of you care. 

When you finally pull away, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as if in fear that this is all just a dream. You gently kiss his nose, your soft voice reminding him that this moment is real.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes open, looking right into yours. “Until the day that I die,” he tells you, echoing your devotion.

There’s a knowing spark in your eyes as they search his own for answers. It has his lips lifting into a smile that mirrors yours, confirming that he had been eavesdropping on your drunken confession weeks ago.  Your smile widens. 

 “Until the light leaves my eyes.”

This was a better idea in my head but hey, at least I finished it. I also don't know the logistics of having a conversation in the rain but that's the beauty of fanfic, I guess?lol Anyway, I could not get these lyrics out of my head. They were so Azriel coded for me:

I'll love you 'til the day that I die 'Til the day that I die 'Til the light leaves my eyes 'Til the day that I die I want you to see, hm How you look to me, hm You wouldn't believe if I told ya You would keep the compliments I throw ya

the way I keep fixing these lyrics but I think tumblr is glitching or something uggghh, pls ignore the random mismatched sizing

Also just wanted to point out that if Az hasn’t confessed, reader would’ve done it the next day anyway 💀

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

[tender-rosiey]

to be honest, idk how you did it but you truly got me stoked over heian era husband! sukuna. i hate the man with most passion (bcs of what he did in the manga), but i couldn't help but giggling, crying, kicking my feet with butterflies in my stomach every time i read your husband!sukuna stories. your writings are *chef's kiss*, i read all of those more than twice already.

idk if you're currently open for request or not, but i want to ask, are you comfortable writing angst/hurt no comfort stuffs? bcs my mind keeps imagining what and how the husbands (gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami) react to their wife (y/n) got klled right in front of their eyes? perhaps bcs of their enemies or something, the enemies know you are their weakness (imagining sukuna, the king of curses, who's feared by most, or satoru who's known as the strongest — turns out have a weakness that he himself perhaps is not aware of is so mindblowing(?)) anyway, you don't have to write it if you're unable to, no worries and no pressure!!

"YOU— WHO I HAVE LOVED TILL LOVE BURNED"

— when you die in front of gojo, geto, nanami, and sukuna

a/n: hehe i am so glad that you like my heinaera!sukuna MWUAH 💕 we gotta ignore what he is doing in the manga 🧍‍♀️ also sorry in advance y’all, but I lowkey had a blast writing this; hope you like this anon <333

GOJO SATORU:

satoru stood outside the operations room, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

he clutches his hands tightly, and his eyes are trained on the door, fixated on your cursed energy that he can feel through the door.

you were going into labor, after long 9 months of waiting.

the two of you were going to finally meet your baby girl. the same girl that the two of you would talk to at night, whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

he knew that the pregnancy was hard on you, and that’s part of the reason why he is relieved that this day has come.

the moments are long agonizing, and what kills him on the inside are your screams of pain as you try to push out your daughter.

he wanted, so desperately, to be with you in the room, but the doctor decided against it; they thought that it would be better to free the room as they worried that there might be a risk in the labor.

that worried him, but he had no choice but to abide by what they said. finally, the sun smiles upon him, and he hears the cry of his daughter.

he stands up, grin overtaking his face, and eagerly awaiting being let in.

he waits.

and he waits, but nothing happens, and he stops the first nurse that goes out the room, “what is happening? is my wife okay?”

the nurse splutters and nods, before dashing to another room. he doesn’t believe her for one second, and so, he tries looking into the room through the windows on the door.

he can’t see anything, but he can still feel your cursed energy. that’s the only thing that calms him down.

but, he can’t find it in him to sit back on the chair. he leans on the wall beside the door, and his nails dig into his knuckles, almost making them bleed.

he doesn’t snap out of it, until the doctor walks out, lowering his mask, “mister gojo—”

he walks past the doctor and heads inside.

“y/n!” he calls out, but he is met with the sight of the nurses covering your figure with a white cloth. his eyes widen, and he grips the wrist of one of them, “what are you doing? she is not dead.”

the nurse’s brows furrow, and her expression turns into of one of pity. he snaps his head towards you then at her, “she is not dead. I can feel it.”

he can still feel your cursed energy, so they must be wrong.

he looks down at you and cups your face gently. he moves your face to his direction, and he whispers, “pretty girl, you did so well, but you gotta wake up now.”

your face is limp in his hand, and his eyes grow frantic, “y/n?” he urges, “please say anything, yell or scold me even.”

he rubs his thumb across your cheek as he chuckles nervously, “love, I can feel your cursed energy. the prank you’re playing is a bit too much, no?”

“mister gojo,” one of the nurses calls out, “I think it’s from her.”

he looks up, and he sees your daughter in the nurse’s arms. she is wailing loudly, and—the nurse is right—she is emitting your cursed energy or remnants of it, he realizes now.

“mister gojo, you need to have skin-to-skin contact with your daughter,” she speaks softly, gently handing the little girl to him.

he takes her, wordlessly, and he mindlessly opens his chest to hug his daughter to it.

the nurses exit the room, and satoru is left to stare at you.

he sits on the bed, one arm holding your daughter and the other hand holding your face. he speaks up lowly with a small and quivering smile, “wifey, come on, wake up. our daughter is here.”

said girl lets out a small huff, and satoru finds himself biting his lip as he lays his forehead on your own.

“come on, y/n,” he begs, “she even looks exactly like you,” he pulls you closer, “you cant do this to me—please, not you too.”

GETO SUGURU:

the businessman sighs, “I won’t pay more than what I offered. geto. my words are final.”

“and who are you to be making orders? geto asks, resting his elbows on the desk, “I could kill you with the flick of a finger, so either you give me the two million yen—I know you can provide—monthly, or you can say goodbye to this life and empire you built.”

the man taps his palm and sighs, “I assume that we won’t be reaching the outcome I want?”

geto tilts his head with a smile, “come on, you still have the power of choice.”

the man stares at geto for a second before speaking up, “your wife is a lovely woman,” he grins, “too bad she has to depart so early.”

at the moment, for the first time since that incident, geto feels his heart drop to his stomach.

he jolts up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall, “what nonsense are you spouting?”

geto’s grip on the man’s throat quickly tightens.

the man is barely able to choke out his reply, “y—your dear sweetheart has been poisoned, since she went to your ‘usual’ café spot, and my men were there,” he grins manically, “better go and try to get your goodbyes, while you’re at it.”

your husband throws him on the floor and releases his most brutal curses to eat him. the man’s screams are ignored, as geto hurriedly runs to the café.

his heart beats violently against his chest. how did his curses not notice anything? how could he let you be in danger?

he slams the door open and yells out, “y/n?! y/n, do you hear me?!”

the café is empty, and the only person present there is you. the others having long fled.

you look so pained, letting out labored breaths and furrowing your eyebrows in discomfort. he kneels beside you and gathers you in his arms. he rises to his feet, but halts when you let out a pained shriek.

“I am sorry, honey, I know, just hold on,” he comforts. you shake your head and bury your face into his chest. he tightens his embrace on you and quickly starts running out.

“suguru, it hurts—moving hurts,” you cry, and it makes him kiss the top of your head firmly while nodding, trying to comfort both himself and you.

he thanks the heavens that he arrives at the estate, and he gently places you on the bed. he looks back at manami, “call all the healers and doctors, now!”

he looks down at you, and he grips your hand with it and presses it to his lips. he murmurs softly, “you will be okay; don’t worry,” he clutches your shirt.

he repeatedly apologizes and brings you fully into his arms. he watches your breathing slow down, and he feels your skin get colder. your expression starts to relax little by little.

it sends geto into a frenzy. he snaps, “where are the doctors?! why is no here yet?!”

manami runs inside and pants, “a-all the doctors have been k-killed.”

geto stops feeling the tips of his fingers, and he looks down at you. he starts breathing frantically, “then get anyone! anyone who knows about poison!” he cups your face and shakes you lightly, “y/n, please open your eyes.”

“suguru,” you say weakly, and he instantly lowers his head, so he can hear you better. you whisper softly, “I love you.”

he nods repeatedly, “and I love you too, so you have to stay awake, so we can say it again, yeah? come on, y/n.”

he moves your hair away from your face, his hands shaky as he falters, “can you say it again? one more time.”

your body stills in his arms, and he shudders, “just o-one more, y/n…” he closes his eyes, burying his face in your chest. your arms are limp, and he is left hugging your body.

everybody stays silent, and they watch geto not leave or loosen his hold on you.

he looks up slowly at manami and speaks lowly, “round up everyone that had an affiliation to that scum; those filthy monkeys will pay for what they have done.”

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami heaves a sigh of relief when he spots yuuji, “are you okay?”

the young boy nods frantically, and nanami looks around him then at yuuji again, “is y/n not with you? have you seen her? anywhere?”

yuuji shakes his head, regretfully, but nanami takes a deep breath, “it’s fine; let’s search for her together, okay?” he assures.

yuuji smiles and nods, determined, “yes!”

nanami barely manages a reassured nod of his own, his mind focused on finding you. in fact, he starts running, eyes quickly scanning each street and corner for any sight of you.

he clenches his jaw, remembering what you said before taking this mission.

“kento, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

he dismissed your worries and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. he hummed softly, “I know, but we have to do it. if things go bad, then we have gojo present anyway.”

gojo is not present. shibuya is slowly turning into a city full of blood and corpses, both non-sorcerers’ and sorcerers’. he regrets not listening to you, but what else could’ve been done?

all he can do right now is find you and make sure you’re okay. that is his first and most important priority.

“nanamin, I found her!” yuuji screams excitedly, pointing at you who was busy thwarting off the myriad of curses charging at you. at the sight of you, nanami’s body relaxes, and he lets out a small smile.

you punch a curse back to a building, so you can finally turn to your husband.

“kento!” you grin and start running towards him. you throw yourself into his arms, and he—as always—catches you. he pulls you close and takes in your presence, burying his face into your hair.

he lets out a small breath.

“I am so glad you’re okay,” he says, but then he feels a strange wetness on his hand. he pulls away slowly and looks down at it. his eyes widen in alarm.

it’s covered in blood.

he looks up at you and mutters, “y/n, are you hurt? where are you hurt?”

“I—I don’t know,” you look up at him, “I can’t feel anything, k—kento; I don’t want to die,” you plead, and he quickly tears off a part of his suit to cover your wound and trying to stop the bleeding.

yuuji quickly goes to try and find shoko.

he hugs you closer, applying pressure to the wound, while pressing gentle kisses to your hair, “you…you won’t; don’t worry.”

you grip his shirt weakly and look up at your husband. you manage a small smile, “have I told you how handsome you are?”

he chuckles weakly, trying to stabilize his voice, “mhm, but I would like to hear you say it again tomorrow; can you do that?”

you nod slowly, “yeah…”

he stays silent for a second and grips you a bit tighter, “do you promise?”

your breathing starts slowing, “promise,” your body relaxes against his, and you feel his hand go to hold your own. he massages your ring finger and raises your hand to his lips.

you close your eyes with a smile, “I love you, ken.”

“I love you more,” he replies instantly. you stay still, and nanami embraces you with the entirety of his body, burying your face into his chest.

he clenches his jaw and whispers, “so much more.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

the king of curses dodges another attack with a full-blown smirk on his face. he swiftly turns and slashes the person till they drop into pieces. his chest heaves with excitement.

that is until he catches the smell of your blood.

he turns behind him, and he is greeted by a sight that he would usually take the time to relish in: a myriad of dead bodies, some piled on top of each other, and blood splattered and spilled everywhere.

he ignores of all that as his feet take him to where he senses your cursed energy.

he sees you standing in the middle of the bodies, and your stance is weak. you’re clutching your side, trying to stop the bleeding. he slowly walks towards to you and teases, “what happened? the queen got hurt?”

you let out a small chuckle, “shut up; it’s a minor injury, nothing worth noting.”

that is until the skin over your chest starts bubbling, and your heart explodes. the blood splashes all over him, and your body drops lifelessly to the floor.

sukuna’s eyes lock with your own blank ones, and he can’t process all the feelings he has.

his chest starts heaving particularly quickly, and his jaw clenches. he bends to his knees—something he never thought he would do—and raises your head towards his, searching for a glimpse of your cursed energy.

his eyes bore into your own as he speaks your name roughly.

“stop playing games, y/n!” he barked, shaking your head in his hand, but you grace him with no response.

“haha! I took out your dear wife; what will you do about it now, you monster?!”

sukuna eyes’ snap to where the voice came from.

he then decides that he will put that man through torture that is not even close to the amount of fury in his chest. sukuna is silent, as he gently lays your head down and walks towards the man.

the sorcerer’s smile starts crumbling, and he quickly falls on his back while trying to move away from sukuna.

“s-stay back, or I will kill you!” he attempts to threaten, but sukuna’s expression is blank. blank being a permanent furrowing of his eyebrows and his lips are pressed into a thin line.

the moment the sorcerer turns his back, trying to flee, sukuna cuts his feet.

sukuna doesn’t give him the chance to scream and wordlessly stomps on his back. little by little, he presses harder on the man under him.

he continues until he hears the cracking of bones and coughs full of blood. sukuna watches as the man tries to claw at his feet, in attempt to escape.

“I will make you suffer ten times over for what you have done.”

and it goes down in history as the biggest carnage sukuna has ever committed.

it didn’t stop at that man.

it extended to all the villages surrounding the vicinity. every sorcerer met a crueller death than the one before him. the single women were eaten, and the married ones were slaughtered.

no man was to enjoy what he was stripped of, and he would let the world remember your name along his through the passage of time, and he would make the temple he erected in your name stand tall forever.

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[stuckasmain]

Hal tries to warn them. Twice. I hadn’t noticed until recently but he does, it’s hard to notice because the way he tries to sounds so routine for him. The second time was just before Frank’s murder making it an all the more tragic case.

Hal is programmed to tell the truth- he wants to- has to and yet the one most vital part he can’t tell them. Not yet. But he tries to work around the order by bringing it up in ways where he is not explicitly telling them that something is wrong or about the true nature of the mission. Unfortunately for Hal the way he goes about it is too similar to that of his typical behavior and it goes unnoticed by the crew until it is too late. It is hard to pick up on his concern/meaning without already knowing something was wrong in the first place. This is the case during the second attempt but it backfires- now his entire existence is in jeopardy.

His first attempt is sprinkled with if/have/you/perhaps. His questions seem rhetorical and prying and it’s mistaken for a psychological evaluation. “I’d be worried if I heard XYZ, wouldn’t you be?” Rather than “I’m worried about this, do you feel the same?” Dave seems to pick up on the strain and nerves in his tone but isn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Maybe he just sees it as Hal’s speech improving and becoming more conversational with better tone.

The second time it is just assumed to be his usual behavior, Hal has always been a tad prideful and self assured. His insistence on the matter of error wouldn’t be unusual despite him pointing it out a bit more than usual.

“It can only be attributable to human error.”

I think this here is as close as he can come to outright telling them, it has always been attributable to human error. Someone put in a wrong number or gave a stranger order, a computer can only be as good as its inputs in that if you mess up code, orders etc. it cannot be at fault for that. Here Hal is hinting that the cause of the break, what lead him to (unknowingly) falsify it has been because of conflicting orders and intervention by humans. This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t given conflicting orders and lead to lie- he had been operating perfectly before and all of this time … how is that not proof to them that he is not at fault? (In his mind) He thinks he is being much more explicit than he really is- his earlier attempt and the current one fall too inline with how he usually acts for them to take notice, there’s a nuance not noticed by his human companions.

It also further plays into the fact Hal is sick. His attempts at warning them are just as unconscious as him hallucinating the faults in the first place. If he doesn’t know/believe anything is wrong with him why would he try to warn them in the first place? These little moments of lucidity and begging that a truly sick person never seems to remember and you can’t be sure of it was really them or just the fever. That’s why, even after there’s an idea of what’s going on Dave and Frank are still uncertain.

Can you really heed a warning that might be just as much of a trick as the failure?

Can you heed a warning you don’t hear?

When he makes the second attempt they now know something is wrong, except it doesn’t matter what cause it at this point It is something wrong with Hal, their concern is much more on their own and mission survival. Hal has to go to sleep for a while, he must be deactivated— if he hallucinated this break what other vital element could be next? What if it’s the life support systems? Cause doesn’t matter right now survival does.

By the time he makes this second warning it’s too late for him or any of them…

[darknight3904]

Invasion of Privacy

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Asgard 2013 

Warnings: Female and male masturbation, voyeurism. 

Astri nearly tripped over her feet as she hurried down the hallways that led to her chambers. She could barely believe what had just transpired in that cell. She quickly slipped out of her dress and into a soft night one before snuggling into her soft bed. She could still feel the way Loki's mouth had pressed against hers. His lips had been a bit dry and colder than hers but every bit of it had been perfect. The way his hands had cupped her face and the way his hair felt oh so soft between her fingertips when she tugged at it. They had kissed twice tonight and it had left Astri breathless even now as she tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this giddy. Was it the first time she went horseback riding? Or perhaps when they visited Midgard at Christmas time? Either way, Astri still couldn't believe what she had just experienced. Loki, Prince Loki of Asgard, the one she had grown up with and used to stick spit-covered fingers in her ears had just kissed her, multiple times. 

She thought about how he had felt pressed against her in that cell, surrounded by her swirling magic that had created the stars above. The way his breath had hitched when she initiated the second kiss had been positively sinful. The way his fingers had been just the slightest bit rough the moment they brushed her face had her wondering what it'd feel like if he had explored the rest of her. What would it feel like if they had danced lower, down her body, and across her chest, between her thighs to where she was craving him now? 

Her own hands were sneaking down her body and between her thighs at the thought. Loki had always been attractive and Astri had always been aware of that but, there was something about him being in that cell that had him appearing more attractive than usual. Could it be his relaxed style of clothes, or maybe the way his long hair was curling at the ends? Either way, the way he had felt against her was perfect. Her hands slipped between her thighs where her undergarments were, as predicted, soaked. Soft moans slipped from her open mouth as she rubbed gently at her clit. A sharp twinge of pleasure shot through her stomach as she slipped a finger inside her needy body, her mind was racing as her back arched slightly when she sped up. Loki's face danced in her mind and teased her as she imagined what he'd do to her. 

Loki found himself lonely again as he lay awake in his own bed. The kisses he had just shared with Astri not even an hour ago were plaguing his mind. The way she had blushed so hard after they broke apart was a good sign but the way she scampered away after he had tried talking after the second one wasn't. Had he overstepped a boundary? Her laughter didn't seem to say that. He fiddled with his hands nervously as he reached out through their mental bond. Would he even be able to see her? Her mind's walls were strong when she was awake. And yet, there she was. He could feel her and her elevated heart rate. Soft murmurs of sound fluttered through the link as he focussed on strengthening it. He had expected her to be distressed, perhaps talked to Drifa that handmaid she favored, but what he was met with was not what he had ever even pictured Astri doing. 

Loki's breath got caught in his throat as he eyed what was happening in front of him. Astri's moans were flowing freely as her fingers danced between her thighs. Apparently, the kiss had done the opposite of upsetting her. He felt his own arousal building as she whispered his name like it was a sin. His own groans filled his cell as he pulled his trousers down just enough for his cock to spring out. His grip was probably too tight as his stomach tightened in pleasure whenever Astri whimpered. She was close, closer than Loki was as he desperately tried to catch up to her. Astri's back was arching and her moans were loud in Loki's ears as he stroked at his manhood. A soft whisper of his name left her lips again and before Loki knew it she was cumming. The moan that left her mouth as she came had sent him over the edge as well. He slumped backward in his bed as he caught his breath and tucked himself away again. Astri seemed to be doing the same as her legs dropped so she was flat on her bed.

   "What an amazing show." Loki found himself saying 

Astri let out a squeak of surprise when she finally noticed him through their link. 

   "How long have you been...what did you see?" She demanded 

   "The climax." Loki found himself arrogantly saying, seeing Astri pleasure himself to the idea of him after just one kiss had been ego-indulging, to say the least. 

   "That's an invasion of privacy!" She groaned 

Before he could respond she had pushed him out of her mind and Loki was alone again. He knew what was coming next though. If he knew anything about Astri, she'd be scurrying down to this very cell soon so she could yell at him in person about how spying on another's self-pleasure was unprincely or something like that. And sure enough not even 20 minutes later she was standing in front of the cell again, night dress falling off her shoulder slightly, breathless from hurrying to him. 

   "Your hair is a mess." He commented

   "Do not toy with me," she warned 

   "I thought that's what you were just doing in your chambers." He smirked from his bed 

   "I'm going to kill you." Astri threatened 

   "Judging by what I just saw I don't think you will." He smugly said 

   "I will strangle your cocky ass in your sleep." She pointed at him 

   "I'm not asleep but please, do try." He grinned 

His smile widened as she began to push through the barrier like she had earlier. Astri had taken the bait just like he knew she would, she had never been able to resist his taunts very well and now he was getting what he wanted, her in front of him. 

Astri wanted to laugh at the way Loki's smile faltered slightly when she had pushed through the barrier and was storming towards him.  It was like someone had turned all the lights out as Astri made her way to Loki, he was all she could focus on. When she reached him though, the anger in her body had dissipated significantly. Sure, he had invaded her privacy but he was in front of her just like she had been wishing when she was in her bed, tangled in her sheets. 

   "I thought you were here to strangle me." He said, that idiotic smile still on his face 

   "I am," Astri said before wrapping herself around him again. 

Loki tasted like the grapes he had been popping into his mouth earlier. The feel of Loki's lips on hers sent a wave of tingles through her body. A soft gasp left his body when they broke apart. 

   "That's not how you strangle someone," Loki said looking down at her with a smile

   "But you enjoyed it anyway," Astri said 

   "That I did." He laughed before connecting their lips again 

A rather loud cough interrupted Loki's mouth on hers as he was the first to pull away. 

   "How long has this been transpiring?" 

   "Thor!" Astri laughed nervously as she pulled herself from Loki's arms "This is...uh not...its well..." 

Astri had never been good under pressure and now trying to explain the current situation was making her face become redder than the cloak that draped over Thor's shoulders. 

   "It's exactly as it seems, brother," Loki said suddenly, wrapping an arm around Astri's waist and pulling her to his side, his fingers dug into her hip possessively and she strained against him. 

Astri could tell Thor was skeptical of his younger brother's words as he slowly nodded. 

   "Right...Astri do you want to go for a walk with me?" 

Astri glanced at Loki who didn't seem to object to the question. 

   "Of course." She smiled and wiggled from Loki's harsh grasp and through the barrier to Thor who waited with his arm outstretched for her to take. 

Astri cast one more glance at Loki who stood at the shimmering barrier watching them leave. He seemed a bit upset but remained silent as she fell into step with Thor and took his arm, leading them from the dungeons. 

Saw The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes for the second time. It's such a good movie. 2017 me would have been ecstatic to know there was another Hunger Games movie in the world.

I wrote something for young Coriolanus Snow because I'm in love with Tom Blyth officially. If you'd like to read it, check out here it's called It Burns For You

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[mchlgayser]

✸ it wasn't intended ft blue lock men

synopsis: An argument broke between you and them, but it was most definitely (un)intentional for them to shout and throw spiteful words your way.

─── ୨୧ warning: angst + no happy ending, languages, arguments, and slight toxicity

─── ୨୧ notes: I will do this very first part with my favorite characters first (I'm biased) and then will continue with the other characters, you guys can comment on any specific chacs you like and I'll try to do it no promise (I might do this up to two or three parts only lol)

ISAGI YOICHI:

It's rarely happens, the time you both got into a fight. Isagi is rather composed, and collected most of the time but these days - all thanks to the facility that's been doing nothing but feed his ego, he is rather the opposite.

Not 360° all the way but you can see the change of demeanor, he is maturing since the last time you saw him, which is before he got into the facility. That's good news but it made you lowkey missed the old Isagi. You could try and spend some time with him but it's hard because his mind will play a loop of new strategies and techniques he's building for his next game. It was bearable, at first.

But the more his mind is occupied with it, the more you felt left out. You try talking to him about it once or twice but as always, it fell in to the right and and fell out of left.

That is until one day, you decided you had enough! He calls you for accompany, shouldn't he at least make up time for you? Even for a minute? No, he decided to still be the villain and ignored you, hands occupied to a bullpen, mind for ways to suppress everyone.

"You shouldn't bother texting me to come you know?' You suck in your teeth realizing that you've been ignored, once more

'For God's sake, I'm talking to you!' The sudden outburst noisily interrupted him 'Should've declined my offer, then.' He barks back, eyes glued to his front 'Oh, my God! You've turned from a complete nice guy to a jerk, a total big jerk.' You half-yell at him, and finally, the long-awaited attention is towards you

'Can you shut the hell up, I need company not a mother to nag me all around but since you decided otherwise maybe you can leave and stop bothering me.' That, that hurts.

'I can't believe you, you know that? I've been here all this month rooting for you and your sickening dream and this is how you repay me? I'm not asking much, just simple attention from you yet you can't afford that but instead, you lashed it out back at me like I'm the one at fault.' Hot, and warm tears begin accompanying your cheeks, you try your best to keep them away from plunging but it kept falling like an endless rain.

For a wink, you could see a twinge of regret in his eyes but his actions and his words never flatter 'Fine, leave and stop bothering you? I will.' He watches. He watches as you pick your stuff up, he watches as you slam his bedroom door open and he watches your hand slip him with a mere inch. He watches you leave and stop bothering him.

OLIVER AIKU:

How many times has it been? First at the mall, second at a private karaoke bar, third at one of his matches, and this? the fourth, perhaps the fifth, worst of it all inside your Goddamn house. Your one-year-old month boyfriend is caught cheating with you. They were playing games at your Nintendo switch. As a person who could not tolerate getting your stuff snoop around, you didn't waste another second throwing your heavy bag to her head eliciting pain screaming.

Aiku shot from his seat dropping the woman in the process and your Nintendo fell to the hard ground. You throw a dagger at the slightly shorter woman, pointing out to the door 'Get. Lost.' She picks up her scattering stuff and leaves with a screech when you do the slapping motion her way

'We need to talk.' You grumble he could barely make it, he hums legs man-spread waiting for you to speak further 'Why?' It was inaudible, below a whisper, had he not paid attention to you he would miss it but the eat-shit grin never wipe off his face knowing he'll get out of this mess sooner or later.

He loves you, yes but wasn't enough to make sure he won't cheat. You are nothing like the girls he's with, you are different in your ways but the urge to always never be faithful laces behind him - but you are always kind enough to never push him off even after countless times he cheated on you and that's why, right now he is not scared. Not scared of losing you, the only one who can love and understand him.

'I don't know...' That three words are enough to completely shatter every last dignity in you and to finally stop being an idiot and get your heart plays every time.

'I've done nothing but forgive you, yet you still cheated on me with another girl-' You rambles

'Not another, it's the same girl-' Your body moves before your brain could digest, and your hand place right on his cheek leaving a red print that his bottom lip bleeds slightly from the harsh impact.

'I hate you.' His grin drops from his face, and the smug smirk on his face fell effortless at your words, the words he's familiar with to other women but so strange from you. That simple but harsh words indicating him that he's fucked up, badly this time.

His whole form jolted your way but your eyes remained to the ground 'I'm leaving.' You finally said after a moment of intense silence.

You get up and try to leave but the firm grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so 'Where are you going?' You swat his hand away 'Fuck you, Aiku. Fuck you, fuck your girls, and fuck this stupid relationship.'

BAROU SHOEI:

You don't exactly remember how this argument even started. You remember arriving home, taking shower, and doing your work when Barou slam the door of your private study room, all angry, veins popping out at the side of his temple.

And you do remember your boyfriend being an absolute clean-freak.

'Was it so important? I just asked you to take the fucking trash out, God damn it!' Ah, you remembered now, that morning he had asked you to take out the trash when you got home after work but you forget 'And I said I forgot! Seriously, what's wrong with you?! It's just a fucking trash, go and take it out yourself!' More veins popping out of his face.

'You are so useless, you peasant. It's just a simple task but you can't do it. All you do is lie down all day and procrastinate like a fucking turtle. Seriously, is there anything you good at?!' His words are harsher than he intended. It was spiteful and sharp like a knife. The form of the act to look tough just as much as he did fall crumble to the palm of his calloused hand.

'You are so mean. What do you mean by 'procrastinate'? I've been stressing over deadlines and working all-day, do you bother asking?' You feel the desire to kick him, punch him and slap him for saying that but you fight every bone and fiber in you not to as to not make the situation worse.

'I'm tired enough playing slave at works but not at home too..' You sighed, your head throbs in pain and agony but you composed yourself with exhales and inhales.

'But maybe if you desire someone to do everything you asked for, you should go and hire a maid not a girlfriend, you selfish idiot.' You purposely bump your shoulder on him, leaving him in the room to himself.

NAGI SEISHIRO:

Hassle. Another hassle. More Hassle. Is it even a hassle anymore? more like a burden. A burden you had to carry. A burden you lift off to save this pointless relationship.

At first, you find it cute, anyone would but after months of living together, it became sort of like a responsibility. A responsibility you aren't ready to commit. Each day becomes worse, so worse that you sometimes became doubtful if you can go through the day, alive.

'Seishiro, why is everything scattering around?' You implied to the scattered chips, cans of sodas, and the CDs of games 'Eh, it was a hassle to pick it up.' He mentioned, hands continuing to type in the controller 'Sei, we've talked about this. You shouldn't turn the house upside down.'

'But it wasn't upside down though...?' You had to stop your words to take a long breath to compose yourself from cursing out at him 'No matter what it is, you shouldn't mess stuff around. Clean it.' You put your bag down and take a towel to bath 'Make sure everything's done when I finished showering.'

Indeed not. The boy won't listen, no matter how loud you shouts at him, no matter how hard you are on him, he will never budge

'Seishiro, what did I tell you about-' You notice the headphone on his head, you can even hear the song he's playing knowing how loud he just set his volume to. You snatch the headphone off his head with an angry look 'Pick up the mess you made.' He rolls his eyes at you, the faint 'K.O' sound from the television heard not long after he set down his controller.

'Why don't you clean it yourself? It's a hassle for me to do it. There's so much...' He complained, legs crossed with his eyes on you. His sharp eyes bore into you, probably creating a dagger of a bullet if you hadn't spoken any further to switch his attention to 'Listen, it wasn't me who go around and did this mess. It's you, and that's why you should do it.' He clicks his tongue in annoyance, well that's new coming from him

'You are such a hassle. So annoying...' He scratched his head in attempt to reduce his annoyance 'I'm annoying. No you are. You are a hassle. I am not your mom to go and clean up after your mess Seishiro. Think wisely before you speak from the idiotic, and lazy mouth of yours.' You pointed out, your point finger merely an inch from his face, ready to stab his face with it.

'Until you clean this whole a lot of mess you've done. Don't call me, I'm staying at a friend's.' He wanted to call for you but something is holding him back - it wasn't a hassle he felt, for once.

EITA OTOYA:

He wasn't like this at first. He is pretty calm, relaxed, and laid-back when you both first dated but nowadays - he is still the way he is but not with you. With everyone else, yes but not with you. With you, he changed. He's becoming cold, and sarcastic all the time. But this minimum change in him never succeeded to make you hate him instead, you grew worried. Is there something you've been doing wrong? Is it your appearance that made his change? Why won't he say anything?

You know how risky it is to date him, after all, you knew him from way back. Otoya is a playboy, a guy who dates half of the girl population in school. But was that enough to stop you from taking a liking to him? No. It's sicker when you confessed to him and he accepted you right away.

It's even sicker when he told you he's been eyeing you for quite some time. That's why you are in this relationship with him now even though it's secreted from the public eye.

You snap out of your thoughts when a controller is pushed your way, your sibling who had just finished their show giving the remote to you 'Your boyfriend is doing an interview today right?' You thank them with a smile as you switch the channel to sports ones. It shows that the media is now preparing for a press conference with the Barcha's FC man of the match, which is your boyfriend. You could spot him at the back, his green strand stood out from the rest as he began treading to his table and sat down, ready to answer the media's question.

It was going well, they were asking your boyfriend - well questions that related to football but not until a female reporter came and ask him about you - technically, your relationship 'Is it true that you've got yourself a girlfriend?' The reporter asked, 'Is she coming today? Would you describe her and what she's like?' She continues further on, adding fuel to the fire.

You began not feeling comfortable in your seat, anticipating the answer your boyfriend will prepare 'No, no I haven't got myself a girlfriend, with my career that is important ta' but ta' have a girlfriend is just not it, it's too tiresome. So I'm pretty much available right now.' He winks to the camera earning a few laughs from the audience. But, was it funny? It wasn't funny to get your heart stomped on like that by the person you trust with every molecule in your body.

You decided that it was enough and switched off the channel. On cue, your sibling got out of the bathroom 'Can I stay overnight?' You watch them giving you a suspicious look 'What happened?' You shake your head at them, dismissing the idea completely to talk about this, right now.

'I'm just too tired to drive,' They step closer to you plopping down on the couch 'I can call Otoya to pick you up?' You rapidly declined the idea, giving them a small believable smile before you - leisurely, got up 'I'm gonna go and have a bath.' You thank them for indirectly letting you stay for the day and tread to the guest room.

Your sibling watches as your figure disappears inside the room, shrugging to themselves.

It was late at night, strike twelve yet you were still up, eyes wide like a fish. Your hands cross on top of your stomach tapping a rhythm to find the need to doze off but your mind decided to play tricks on you by looping the interview you watched that evening. Your mind is hazy and your eyes are teary. Otoya never left a message after the interview ended. Is he not scared you might watch the interview, how come he didn't update anything? Can he at least say that it was a lie?

But nope, you don't know what happened to the boy after the interview.

You keep tossing around to sleep when out of nowhere the bedroom door of the guest room burst open. You jolted in bed, thinking the possibly worst of all but upon seeing the stood-out green strand and white hair, your whole form relaxed but then, you realized why you are in this state at the first place.

You spot your sibling by the door doing the 'what's going on?' gestures with their hands 'You can leave...' You encourage them, watching as they are reluctant to leave but leave nonetheless.

'Close the door, I don't want them to hear us...' Otoya is in disbelief not liking the way you are talking but obliged.

'Why didn't yer' come home? I was waiting fer' ya, thank God yer' sibling called me...' You sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed and feeling the mattress dip under your shape 'That's rich coming from you when you told the world about how having a girlfriend is 'tiresome'.' You watch his eye twitch in irritation.

'I did what I was supposed to, I don't want them ta' know about us?'

'Why not? No, really, why not? Why didn't you want them to know? I mean it's been a while since we are dating so don't you think it is finally time or is it because you are bored of me now? Because that explains why you've been ignoring me these past few weeks.' His Adam's apple bops up and down gulping down a huge lump at the back of his throat.

'I...'

'Don't you dare lie to me, Eita.' You point a finger his way in a threatening manner 'Yer' right. I don't know Y/n. I don't think I see any future heck even a tomorrow in this relationship. My career is so important ta' me, I don't see myself can focus on anything else but football at this time. I don't want to hurt yer' by breaking up witcha but I just don't feel it anymore... M' sorry.' You scoff, feeling the urge to choke him so hard he loses consciousness.

'Don't apologize if you didn't truly mean it. It still doesn't justify your actions to treat me like one of your exes. I'm hurt Eita, hurt because I know you meant what you said during your interview. At least try and be a little nice with your way of talking shit about me.' You huff in disappointment

'So I think we can end this now, get out!' He flinches at the sudden spurt but he stays under composure 'I said. Leave.' You pointed out at the door gesturing him to walk up which he did after a moment of hesitation.

'I hope I can see you around. My sibling will walk you to the door.' You close the bedroom door, immediately creating a barrier between him and you.

MICHAEL KAISER

One thing about Kaiser being in a relationship is he always thinks men are superior. He's the 'woman stays in the kitchen to serve men sandwiches' type of guy and that didn't make any difference with you. Of course, at first, you obliged like a good girl of his, after all that's what he wants in a girl, an obedient girl - and you fit the spot just perfectly. But after months you think it becomes sort of like a master and maid kind of relationship minus the fact you two eat, sleeps, shower, and get intimate. It was something you can bare for a long period of time but within time, he became overly comfortable with the way you are.

And that pissed you off. Kaiser is sweet at a time, but most of the time he is his usual self, arrogant, rude, and vain. The way he talks to you sometimes also adds salt to the wound.

'And what exactly is my job, Kaiser?!' He shrugs, his looks staying unbothered 'To serve me, take care of me,' He swirls the wine inside the wine cup before he takes a sip. You scoff in disbelief 'I am not your fucking maid. I'm your girlfriend for fuck's sake!' He sighs putting down the wine cup 'Look, why do you suddenly complain? Why now, I thought you are fine being my maid-girlfriend' He emphasized the word 'maid' with one brow cock 'You are an asshole, you know that?' A deep chuckle slips his lips in pure amusement 'Tell me something I don't know.' He challenged, one hand now propping to his knee and his chin, looking at you with a mock confused look

'You never change, do you? Always thinking you are superior to anyone else but... I'm your girlfriend, Kaiser. Can't you at least be nice, even for a little? It's that little I'm asking for you.'

'What can I say, Y/n? Am a narcissistic fuck and that won't change even for you, I mean who are you?' He laughs picking back up the wine to drink it in one go 'You are not different than the rest of that mediocrities I'm with, just identical.' The way those hurtful words coming out from him like it cost him nothing brings instant tears to your eyes

'You are so ignorant.' You push the urge to break down in front of him as you turn your heels around to walk away 'Where are you going?' He asked gripping your waist and hugging you from behind 'Let me go,' He tighten his grasp on you so close you can feel his head shake a no.

'Not gonna happen,' 'Kaiser, let me-' A broken sob left your mouth, and that's when he finally lets go to turn you around so you are facing him 'Y/n...' You finally get the chance to push past him and huff 'Don't call my name,' You strut to your room and close the door, locking him behind.

[aoyama-division]

ARB Birthday Special 2024: Tomi Chōten

~~ August 14th ~~

"It's all about the money."

Login Lines:

*Sighs* "Back home... I won't say I missed it, but... I am... a bit glad to be back. I had almost forgotten how Aoyama looks. ...Hino. Good to see you again. ...Yes, the honeymoon went spectacularly, thank you for asking. Miho-san and I had a wonderful time. ...What's this now? A welcome home gift? No? Then..."

"A... birthday gift? ...Oh. It is my birthday today, isn't it? I can't believe I returned home on the day of my birth. I must have been having such a good time, I forgot. ...Well, thank you, nonetheless, Hino-san."

Voice Lines:

"28 years old. Hard to believe that I'm two years away from being. ...I won't say I'm looking forward to it. But then again, why am I worried about things that haven't happened yet? Perhaps, I've been spending too much time among the common class, as of late."

"My parents, (un)fortunately, stated they wouldn't be around to celebrate my birthday. My mother stated that she grew a bit envious seeing me and Miho together, so she forced my father to take her on a vacation, i.e., a second honeymoon. ...I'd say I'm sad that they're not around, but... well, it's no different from usual. At least, they forwarded some money to my account. ...But I really miss my birthdays when I was younger..."

"Miho-san called and wished me a 'happy birthday', which I thanked her for. I escorted her back home after we had arrived in Japan. It was really nice to spend a month and a half with her without worrying about things here in Japan. ...Perhaps, I should endeavor to take her on a vacation twice a year, for both our birthdays. I think it would do us both a world of good."

"Karada. ...Yes, it's good to see you again too. I'm glad you took care of Aoyama in my absence. ...The honeymoon was pleasant. Miho-san and I had a very good time. ...Oh, our pictures on PROFILE? Yes, we visited a variety of places. We couldn't decide where to go, so we chose a number of good spots. …Well, if you need any good spots, I'll be sure to recommend some."

"Anyway, if nothing else, I... ...Oh, a birthday gift? ...Oh, a humidor for my cigars? Wow, this is a bit surprising coming from you, Karada, especially since you're the only one of us who doesn't smoke. ...No, no, it's fine. Thank you, Karada."

"Luis. ...I and Miho-san's honeymoon was fine, thank you very much. ...Look, whatever issue you have with my wife, get over it, please do get over it. Regardless of rather you like it or not, she and I are husband and wife, and will continue to be so, so please let it go. ...Well, I'm glad to hear that. ...As I said before, your glibness does you no credit, Kōkyū."

"So, was there something else you wanted? ...What are these now? ...Opera tickets? ...Oh, I did mention that Miho-san and I were into opera, didn't we? I'm surprised you were listening. ...And these are high-rise seats? Hmm. If I didn't know any better, Kōkyū, I'd say you were getting used to Miho-san's presence. ...Haha. Well, thank you for this. I'll be sure to find time for Miho-san and I to use these."

Karada Lines:

"Hey Tomi! Welcome back to Japan! It's good to see you again! ...Of course, man! I wasn't gonna let nothing happen to this city while you were gone! Not on my watch! But anyway, how was the honeymoon?! I saw some of your pics on PROFILE. You and Miho-san looked adorable! ...Oh man! I gotta convince Lola if I can take her on a vacation sometime! ...Hey, maybe you and Miho can join us! Just think about it, okay?"

"Oh, by the way, happy birthday, man! Yeah, it's a case for your cigars! ...Hey, I still don't see how you and Luis smoke those things, but hey, I'm not judging. ...Glad you like it, Tomi! Happy birthday again, and welcome back!"

Luis Lines:

"Tomi. Welcome back, I guess. And how was your little getaway with your bride? ...Hmph, glad to hear it. ...Issues? Oh, you misunderstand me, Chōten. Whatever so-called "issues" I have with your wife, I assure you, that are quite miniscule compared to some of the other people in the D.R.B. Do I care for her? No. But compared to others in this rap tournament, she's not worth getting upset over. ...Glad to know I have your approval. ...Whatever."

"Anyway, here. ...Yeah, I won these off some radio show, but I personally can't stand opera. But I know you and your bride do, so... here. ...Don't flatter yourself, Chōten. ...Whatever. I'm out. Give your wife my regards."

[invisiblegarters]

Only Friends Character Rankings - Ep 6

Well this was an episode, wasn't it? Finally the mess really begins and now the mettle of every single person who says that what they were looking forward to was messiness is about to be tested. Because every single one of these characters is gonna bring the mess, even the one we like best. Maybe especially the one we like best. Here comes the point when they really start to tear strips off each other. Can we handle it?

For myself, I can't definitively answer that (temptation compels me to say yes but also you just never know and I refuse to pretend otherwise) but I can say I can't WAIT to find out.

Character Rankings (Fave to Least Fave atm)

SAND. Sand my darling my shit stirrer my passive aggressive asshole. I've already made a whole post about how calculated he was in his manipulation this episode - he wound Ray up and watched him go, and literally only interfered when the result flared out at Nick. Which shows me exactly how little he cares about any of these people and desperately makes me need his ex to be alive and to show up real time because Sand has some very complicated, very unresolved issues there and frankly, caring about Ray or not I think he's still in love with them.

If they are dead though that would make a lot of sense, mostly because now Sand is sort of frozen in that place of betrayal and anger and yeah, love, thwarted as it was. It would also explain his need to destroy Top at the cost of everything else.

I still wonder if it was a woman. I want it to be Mix but we keep referencing that San likes both and he's yet to be seen with a woman, so.

And nope, did not miss his passive aggressive digs at Ray either. "I see why you like him." "He's lucky he has someone like you looking out for him." Especially that first one. Lbr that was entirely a dig and while I get it - he's smarting from everything that happened with Boston before (regardless of how hard he pushes it down it's still obvious) and he figures why the hell not, no one else gives a shit so why should I, I know exactly what I am to this person and it's practically nothing so what does it matter if I use him? Tit for tat - I'm not so far up his ass (yet, there's always next week) that I can't see how fucked up it is. I just also kind of love it. I'm impressed, tbh. I was fully expecting Sand to reveal the tape to Ray out of some stupid "I just want you happy wah" thing and to have him do it this way floored me. I have said before that what I want from his storyline with Ray is mutual destruction and if things keep going along on these lines I will be very pleased. That second fight still worries me though.

I will also say that I bet I'm angrier about Ray calling him a whore (twice! In less than ten minutes!) than Sand will probably be. Sand did this, he wound Ray up as I already said, and if there's one thing that has been entirely consistent with his character thus far it's that he takes responsibility (perhaps takes it when things aren't even really his fault). He takes responsibility for his own feelings and he takes responsibility when he fucks up. I can definitely see him deciding he earned what he got, even if Ray went straight for what he knew would hurt the most - hasn't Sand told him over and over that he's not going to be bought? - he also went straight for Ray's weakest spot to get what he wanted out of him. Tit for tat.

That said, I can very much also see him internalizing that that's what Ray thinks about him. Especially if that turns into Ray's go-to insult when they fight (as I guess it might just).

I'd say he's the episode MVP, but actually he's tied with

MEW. Oh, Mew. I keep saying that it's always the reserved ones that go the most nuts when crossed and neither Sand nor Mew has proven me wrong this episode. Also the man just has a delicious sense of drama and who doesn't love that? The way he lulled Top into thinking all was well and then lured him into believing that there would be sexy times, followed up by that fucking line. I screamed and then started cackling (very quietly, it was early here and people were sleeping). MEW YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND. I had clocked that he wasn't having fun and that he was extremely subdued about Top's showoff gift but him punching Ray really convinced me that he was gonna ignore everything Ray had been trying to say.

That said, they better not reveal that they cooked this up together because then why did Ray go full scorched earth? If it was a plan they could have executed it in pretty much any other way.

Nah, feels wrong to me. What I think is that Mew punched Ray because he was ruining Mew's on the spot plans to confront Top himself, but also because wow bestie how about we don't humiliate me in front of all our friends? Plus he knows that if he apologizes Ray will forgive him anything. It's a benefit of the whole BFF being in love with you business.

Loved the bath smile in the preview. My guess is he's gonna revenge fuck Ray, but only after Top thinks that he's forgiven him and they get back together. It'll be very messy. Why can't he fuck Sand instead that would be the ultimate revenge for both really.

Boston. Yeah, Boston. He read Ray to filth in this ep while ALSO trying to lead him into thinking that telling Mew about him and Top fucking behind his back would be just as bad as fucking Top behind his back. Like it's genius and fucked up and eighteen levels of wrong and it ultimately didn't work but jesus.

And then at the end of the whole mess he is the only one who got to go home with a dude that still wants him. And I have to appreciate that that's because Nick already knew. Sure it wasn't fun to hear I bet but it's not like it's not something Boston hasn't been clear about.

He got a reprieve this week but I suspect he knows that. He's gonna go gunning for Nick too because he's not a dumb man and he can put two and two together and get four (even though sometimes it suits his purposes to make five instead) and it's gonna dawn on him sooner than later that he has someone very very close to him who has access to all kinds of fun spy equipment, doesn't he? Why yes he does.

Looking forward to watching Mew yeet him into the pool next ep though.

Ray. I love mess, and boy howdy did Ray bring it this ep. I'm incredibly unsure why he decided to burn all his bridges so spectacularly, but well, he's drunk and maybe high definitely feeling sorry for himself and we don't always make the best decisions in those situations. Seen speculation that he fully intends on hurting himself by getting behind the wheel and yeah, that also rings true.

He also knows just where to hit everyone where it hurts and he didn't hold back, did he? If I can't blame or hate Boston for what he did last ep then the same must be said for Ray - he wasn't spewing anything that wasn't true...until he got to Sand. There it was entire untruths but I don't like Ray enough to try to unpack that, especially since my less than rosy view of Ray means that I am inclined to think the worst. Frankly what I want to say is that all Sand is to Ray, whether he's actually paying for it or not, but even I know that's uncharitable. See, growth (mine, not Ray's - I think we've got at least three episodes before we see growth from Ray).

And frankly I don't think Boston was entirely wrong that he hopes that Mew finding out about Top and Boston will send him to Ray's arms - it's not the whole reason he needs Mew to know, but yeah. it's there in the back of his mind. I still don't blame him for telling him.

But also I'm with Sand - getting in a car the way he is isn't entirely about him, he could seriously hurt someone else and that pisses me the fuck off. I have a real bug bear about drunk driving. No excuse is a good excuse for that shit and that's why he's lower than Boston this week. Fuck him for that honestly.

Top. This might be controversial, but I feel kind of bad for Top this ep. I mean, not horribly bad, I was having a great time watching everything fall apart around him, but a little bad.

And here's the reason why: I don't think that he is entirely playing a part with Mew. I do think he likes him - not sure if I buy love but he does like him, perhaps a lot. The man is a nasty piece of work who slips into cocky assholery way too easily for my tastes, but I also think that he's kind of put in that role and so goes with it. He did try to be cordial with Sand this ep - kind of insane when you think about the fact that Sand hates him, Top knows Sand hates him, and he also knows why - but he didn't switch to assholery until he took his cue from Sand. Same when he ran into Sand with his car - he was sorry and worried but then Sand wouldn't follow that script so he followed. He does the same thing with Boston when they interact.

I think he enjoys being with Mew because Mew lets him be the best version of himself. But of course the asshole is still there underneath, he can't run from it, so it all falls apart around his ears. I do think he holds genuine affection for Mew, but what does that matter when he's screwed over so many people in the past? I think he also likes the novelty of doing love and sex Mew's way, but I also believe that he'll only play the penitent for so long before he loses patience. I'm curious to see if I'm right, and how things will go if so.

Chuem. Every time this woman opened her mouth it was to be a dick. Like, damn. I knew she wasn't some sweet angel but I get the impression the only one of her friends she really likes is Mew. Curious why, because she seemed to at least like Ray well enough two years ago. At the very least Mew is the only one that she's not casually cruel to.

Nick. Babe. You're pretty but I'm gonna need you to do something okay? Yes, even if your revenge hits Sand at least it'll hit SOMEONE. Because right now you're just a succession of "oh shit" faces and I need more.

Relationships (Most to Least Fave atm)

TopMew. Yep. They finally got really interesting and beat out BostonNick. I am so curious what Mew is gonna do to Top. I already said that my top guess is making Top work for it, making him think he's forgiven him...and then fucking Ray and making sure he finds out about it. This suspicion will turn into a certainty if he finds out that Top fucked Boston because he thought there something happened with him and Ray.

Nick and Sand. I want them to hash it out and make up. I said I'd be okay if Nick's revenge hit Sand but I really won't be haha, I want them to end the show still friends. They are usually really good at talking to each other so I have some hope. Don't let these men you probably won't even know anymore in a year screw up a friendship that might actually last beyond college, guys. Also you should make out.

Sand and Top and the ex. The way I am being teased about this is not nice. GIMME. I want answers, don't care how I want them now. Make it messy please. Please please please please please I want the ex to show up like a wrecking ball and for Sand to utterly lose all his shit over it.

BostonNick. Still think these two deserve each other. Am READY for Boston to put two and two together and get Nick fucking bugged his car, though. And maybe he can get Nick to play the recording from him since at this point he and Chuem are the only two who haven't heard it. I am curious to see what if anything Nick does when it all falls apart. I kind of want him to ascend to unhinged lengths as yet unseen.

SandRay. I guess the mask is off now (even though I kinda think it was always off, lol). I do not ship this. They are bad for each other and Ray especially needs to just not be anywhere near a romantic relationship, but especially not with Sand who has a serious caretaking complex that is going to foster some really nasty codependence, as well as a far too patient streak which will only encourage Ray to keep lashing out at him whenever he wants (yes this ep he did what he did but I cannot stress enough that it wasn't really about Ray. Oh, he took his shots but at it's heart this was all about getting at Top. Top is a special case for Sand, he's a dude who riles him up just by existing. Ray might get there eventually but currently he's nowhere near on Top's level for Sand, he'll put up with perhaps a LOT more before he finally gets to that point).

Every week I worry that Sand is gonna enter his doormat era, and every week they've neatly dodged it happening. But oh, we still have six weeks to go and the worst fight is yet to come so that worry ain't fading anytime soon.

As I've said, mutual destruction is more fun for me so this ep wasn't half bad on that front. If things stay in this vein I might actually work around to enjoying it as a disaster ship.

In Conclusion

I'm gonna need everyone to stop it with the slut shaming, please. Boston's an ass, but he's not an ass because he likes to sleep around and I'm kind of tired of the conflation of the two.

[stitch1830]

Hii, Stitch🥰

Kantoph × 8. Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry

Hi Purple! Thank you so much for the ask! A little late, but here's the prompt. Home you enjoy the whump :')

......

Kantoph - H/C - #8 - “Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

He dropped his travel bag on the kitchen table, filling it up with all the essentials. Other than the rustling of clothes, toiletries, and accessories, the house echoed in silence that filled Kanto with dread. This was bound to happen once, twice, even three times throughout the year, and yet, the fact didn’t give Kanto any comfort. 

When he zipped up his bag, Kanto glanced over at the bedroom. With a tired sigh, he braced himself.

The hard part was only just beginning.

She lay on their bed, shaking as she silently cried herself to sleep. He hated seeing her this way, but what could he do? Kanto had a job to do, and she knew that. Toph was nothing but rational. Unfortunately, being rational didn’t mean that she liked it. 

Truthfully, he didn’t like it one bit, either.

And this time, leaving Republic City,  it felt different. Perhaps because she couldn’t come with him. 

He walked over to his side of the bed and lay beside her. She didn’t bother to wipe the tears away, so Kanto did it for her. Gently, he brushed his thumb over the tears, whispering, “Please don’t cry, baby. I hate it when you cry.”

“I can’t help it.” she sniffled. “You made me this way.”

“I won’t be gone long,” he promised. “We’ll be back here hopefully by the end of the week.”

“It’s not that you’ll be gone. It’s that I won’t be there to protect you.”

“Believe it or not, I’m pretty good at my job,” he lightly teased. “I should be just fine.”

“That’s what you always say, but then your dunderhead brain has you doing something stupid and leaving you exposed,” she snapped back, her shaky voice getting louder as her emotions overwhelmed her. “You realize that I don’t want to live without you, and every time you do something stupid the thought of living without you crosses my mind and terrifies me? You realize that?”

“I —I don’t mean—”

“I know you don’t mean anything by it, Kanto,” she sighed, “but it still happens. And that’s why I should be going with you.”

Kanto let out a deep breath, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I know. You’re the smartest one in this family, and I do foolish things sometimes because I know you have my back, just like I have yours.

“But you need to stay here, to protect our little badgerfetus. You know your mission is much more important than mine, yeah?”

Toph shut her eyes, then moved her hand to cradle her growing belly. Her lips formed a thin line, but she nodded in agreement. 

As hard as it was for him to leave her at home, Kanto knew it was hard for Toph to stay behind. She loved going missions, but she would never put the baby in harms way.

It didn’t mean that she liked staying behind.

So Kanto laid beside her until the last possible second, brushing her hair out of her face, wiping away her tears, telling her sweet nothings to try and cheer her up. Then, he placed his hand over hers that rested on her belly and began talking to the baby. “Hey there, baby Beifong,” he whispered. “You take it easy on Mama while I’m away, okay? You two will watch over things here, and I’ll be back before you know it.

“I love you and Mama very much, baby Beifong. So much.”

A rare sob broke out of Toph, and it shattered Kanto’s heart. He pulled her into his arms, letting her cry into his chest. Her fists twisted in his shirt, and he held her as she let the tears fall. 

And to the best of his ability, he continued to reassure her with the best brave voice he could put on. “I promise I won’t put myself in harm's way. I’ll—I’ll do everything by the book, like you always want me to. It’ll still be dangerous, but—but I’ll be as safe as I can. Okay?”

Toph let out a shaky breath, then emerged from his warm embrace. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks, and it wasn’t until she brushed her thumbs across them that he realized at some point he began to cry himself. 

But with a hard, determined look on her face, she ordered him once more before he left for the mission. “You come back to me, Kanto Nakamura. Come back to us.”

Kanto managed a small smile, then pressed his lips to hers in a deep, longing kiss. It was a kiss that mended his aching heart, one that seared in his memory to hold him over until they could reunite in a week. And when they finally parted, he replied to her order.

“Yes, Chief.”

......

Send me writing asks if you don't mind waiting a bit! Lol

[marroniere]

fic: strength of heart (tenderness of the soul), thranto, E, WIP, almost finished

Word count: 190,318 words so far (5000-word chapters are posted twice a week, 38 chapters overall)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, mpreg, Thrawn dealing with his traumatic past

Excerpt:

“All right,” Eli says, although, of course, it is not all right. Then he asks the question he has wanted to ask since the conversation they had on the bridge. “What are we going to do in that case, then?”

“We might hope for more reinforcements,” Thrawn says.

“What do you mean, ‘might hope?'”

“I have requested them.”

Thrawn’s tone is suspiciously evasive.

“And what if we don’t get them?”

“Then,” Thrawn says, “we stay. And we cause the Grysk fleet as much destruction as we can.”

Eli can read between the lines; he understands what Thrawn’s words truly mean. “We fight to our death to make sure that as few Grysk Warmasters as possible reach the Ascendancy, where they can be destroyed by the remaining Defense Force ships.”

“Okay,” Eli says, after a few seconds of silence. “I still have that stupid hope we’ll make it out of there alive, though.”

“So do I,” Thrawn answers.

Then, after a bit of contemplation, he adds, “Perhaps we will. With any luck, we will even return to Naporar, teach your mother and uncle Cheunh, and have one more child.”

Eli lets out a quiet, sad laugh.

“Future talk,” he says. “I like that.”

“It is not hypothetical,” Thrawn answers. “I may be in heat. The tests I have taken suggest it could be the case.”

At first, Eli finds himself at a loss of words.

“Ah,” he only manages, with an intonation that sounds ridiculously Thrawn. “After…that time?”

Thrawn gives him a tiny nod. Is it really happening? Eli finds it hard to believe it could even be a possibility, not after they have been trying to conceive for two years, to no avail.

“I want to try again,” Thrawn says. “Nothing may happen, but then we shall accept it and wait for another opportunity, should it present itself. But it is worth trying.”

Eli can’t hold back a smile.

“That’s some motivation for making it out alive.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn only says.

As Eli stretches on the bed, clothed, he asks, “Can you lie down with me?”

And Thrawn lowers himself by Eli’s side, his long, lean body pressed to Eli’s, his hands cool on Eli’s, his face buried into Eli’s hair.

Eli closes his eyes.

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 45 - Part 3

*Warning: Adult Content*   

The smile faded from Dara's face as he headed towards the stairs, the weight of the conversation he was about to have settling in on him.

It was hard to believe he'd come to care for Maric so much in so little time but maybe time didn't matter for much.

They'd be through more in the time they had spent together than many couples went through in a lifetime.

Dara had almost died twice and Maric once.

Perhaps numbers of near death experiences weren't something most people measured their relationships by but the events had certainly brought them closer.

As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, Maric spotted him and hurried over.

His eyes were on Dara's face, searching and Dara suspected from his grim expression that he had already figured out what Dara was going to tell him.

"Can we talk upstairs?" Dara asked.

Maric nodded, took Dara's hand and led the way.

Once they were inside Maric's room with the door shut, Maric went and sat down on the edge of his bed and let out a sigh.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Dara sat down next to him.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Maric."

Maric shook his head.

"I've been trying to think what I would do in your position. The same thing, probably."

"Leaving you is the only hard thing about this decision," Dara told him.

"I want to be free, to see my family and let them know I'm alive, to go home, to bring Bug back to his home and family. There are so many reasons I want this but I want you to know that it was still a difficult decision because of the love I have for you. This is not something I've chosen because I don't care for you, Maric."

"Love is often tragic," Maric said.

"Though we've been together only a short time, you've changed me to the core in ways I will be forever grateful for. You've reminded me of things I always knew but chose to ignore at times because I could. That we're all people, that we all deserve a certain standard of treatment and respect. That even the most powerful of men should have accountability to himself and failing that, to others."

"You gave me back my sense of self worth, my confidence," Dara said.

"You reminded me of who I am and what I can be. I hope this isn't the last time we see one another."

"I hope that if we do see one another again, it will be under circumstances that are better for both of us. Circumstances that let there truly be an us, if that's what you still want."

"Who knows what the future will bring?" Dara smiled.

"Well, Bug but as he says, he isn't very good at it."

"Well, I hope that whatever devils lurk in that boy's head make up for some of the grief they've caused him and keep the two of you safe on the road."

********

Bug looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed when the door opened and met Brayan's eyes.

"Ah," Brayan said, only pausing for a second before continuing into the room.

"Thank you," Bug told him.

"Hmm?" Brayan said as he knelt to look through his bag.

"The Prince said that setting us free was your idea. So... thank you."

"I take it you haven't had any visions trying to make you stay this time?"

"No but I suppose there's still time for that, Sir," Bug said.

"Or maybe this was why that happened in the first place. If I'd joined the Wrasher, I may have never had the opportunity to return to my family and Dara would still have been a slave."

Brayan looked up at Bug and frowned.

He still hadn't actually retrieved anything from his bag.

"That's a little circular, isn't it? Whatever controls the visions could have prevented you from being taken in the first place."

"Maybe but that doesn't account for Dara's freedom."

Bug shook his head.

"I don't really know, if I'm honest. There are many possibilities."

"You would think being able to see into the future would give you all of the answers but it only seems to have left you with even more questions. It seems unpleasant, if I'm honest. Even experiencing it through you is frustrating at times."

"Sorry," Bug murmured.

"What did I say about apologising all the time?" Brayan asked but there was a lightness to his tone.

He wasn't truly scolding Bug.

He stood.

"Well, there's much that needs to be organised if we're going to do this. I should get started on that. Head downstairs when you're ready and we'll leave as soon as Maric and Dara are done talking."

"Didn't you need something from your bag?" Bug asked as Brayan headed for the door.

"It wasn't in there," Brayan said as he opened the door.

"I'll have to look for it elsewhere later."

[josenoelrobles]

Navigating the Storm: Surviving a Second Bankruptcy

Introduction "Bankruptcy is not the end; for many, it's a challenging beginning. Facing it twice? That's a testament to resilience and the start of a profound transformation." This bold statement invites us to rethink our perception of financial setbacks, especially when they strike more than once. Personal Experience: A Journey Through Double Bankruptcy How does the saying go? Full me once shame on you, full me twice shame on me. You would think that going through bankruptcy would be a hard enough experience that I won't do it again. You would also think that I should have learned my lesson and avoided what led me to that first bankruptcy in the first place. Not me; I am a slow learner because, within 5 years of filing my first bankruptcy, I am filing for my second one. And let me tell you is not fun at all. Putting aside the humiliation factor, the process of a second bankruptcy is awful. Especially when is so soon and so close to the first one. The skepticism and the judgment from the court and your creditors are on a completely different level. The scrutiny and the invasion of personal life are on a whole different spectrum. And to be fair, I don't blame them. I am a repeat offender so I deserve it. But still is not a good position to be in. Not to mention and perhaps the important thing, you fail your loved ones one more time. In my case, I have a wonderful wife whom I call my Super Womam. And I also have 6 amazing children. And when you set seal in the journey of entrepreneurship, even though you are the captain and perhaps you are doing all the work sometimes we forget that there are a lot of other people in the boat with us. And that is that ship sinks, they will drown with you. And that is what happened to me way too many times. Even though I have 2 bankruptcies, I have had a lot of businesses in the past that failed too. Every time that I failed and lost a business, not only me but my entire family had to pay the price and the consequences of my failures. Some of those consequences have been so damaging that I still trying to repair them. It is easy to justify our behavior and our actions by saying that everything that we are doing is for our families and to better them and their future. When in reality we are doing it for us. Because we are prideful and because we want to prove something and in many cases to people that can care less about us. But that is a topic for another blog. The great thing about it is that our governmental laws created these bankruptcy laws so we have an option in case we fail. Trust me, if you can avoid going into bankruptcy please do so. But the fear of failing shouldn't t be a reason why you don't try to pursue your business dreams. Having these laws in place should be an indicator that there is a chance that you will fail. That is why they exist. A lot of other people have failed in the past. But this should not discourage you. Use this as a motivation to pursue your dreams. In the same way that so many fail, so many others succeed. It is up to us which statistics are we going to be part of. The only way that you can actually fail is when you stop trying. To me, my past failures I don't see them as failures. I see them as lessons that need to be learned in order to move to the next level. Painful, and humiliating, of course, but those lessons have made me stronger and wiser, or at least I like to believe that 😅. I am already on the books of those who failed too many times. Now I am the books of those who never give up. And soon, God willing, I will be in the books of those who succeeded. Data: Insights Into Bankruptcy Trends and Impacts Statistics show that a significant percentage of businesses that file for bankruptcy once are likely to do so again. Research from the Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts indicates that about 16% of businesses that file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy are repeat filers. This suggests that the challenges leading to the first bankruptcy may not have been fully addressed or new challenges have arisen that were not anticipated (Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts, 2020). The Problem: Recurring Financial Crisis The core issue in recurring bankruptcies often lies in inadequate risk management, insufficient financial buffers, and an underestimation of market volatility. For many, the root causes of the first bankruptcy, such as high operational costs or poor strategic planning, remain unaddressed, leading to subsequent financial failures. The Solution: Building a Stronger Financial Foundation To avoid the cycle of financial distress, consider these practical steps: - Thorough Post-Bankruptcy Analysis: Conduct a comprehensive review of what led to each bankruptcy to identify and address underlying issues. - Enhanced Financial Education: Regularly update your financial knowledge and skills, focusing on cash flow management, budgeting, and forecasting. - Strategic Planning and Diversification: Diversify income streams and continuously update business plans to adapt to market changes. Implementing these strategies can help individuals and businesses not only recover from bankruptcy but also build a resilient financial future. Conclusion: Turning Adversity Into Opportunity In conclusion, experiencing bankruptcy twice can be both daunting and enlightening. It presents an opportunity to reassess, learn, and rebuild with a stronger, more informed approach. The key to turning these difficult experiences into success stories lies in proactive management and continuous learning. Read the full article

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 29: Jaws

Today, for Memorial Day, I watched Jaws for the first time. I'm glad I saw it in the sense that it is basically required Classic Movie viewing but I don't think I'll add it to my list of favorites. Also, I sometimes hear it listed as a horror movie and I would say it definitely is not. Maybe a thriller, but it had as many comedic moments as scary ones, imo.

It was definitely very well made with a lot of interesting and beautiful shots. And I can see how it would be very impressive on the big screen. I can also see how it could be some people's repeat viewing favorite or annual rewatch or what-have-you; I can imagine becoming very familiar and comfortable with it and returning to it again and again. The overall structure is very simple and the different sections of it are almost stand alone most of the time; it's probably easy, once you've seen it once or twice, to zone in and out of it, maybe paying particular attention to your favorite parts.

Even I was kept fairly well amused for the extremely long whole-second-half-of-the-movie-in-the-boat, even though that's not really my thing. It did stretch a little long for my tastes. How many times can you think you've got the shark without getting him before it becomes stale? For me, hmmm, maybe it was becoming a little stale. Just a little.

I liked the earlier parts about the town better although I also found them infuriating. It's very hard to watch a movie about a government steadfastly refusing to believe in a danger that they absolutely and objectively know exists, because doing so would require making economically painful choices, in 2023, and not feeling like, hmm, yeah, I've seen this IRL and I'm still mad about it. The REAL villains are the Mayor and Local Business People who saw a child straight up murdered and were like "....but the economy?" when faced with the suggestion that perhaps, in the future, fewer children should be murdered. Like, that hotel lady should have been slapped, not the Sheriff who was just trying his best.

I found the characters mostly likable and enjoyable to watch, though I took a while to warm up to Quint. And then when I did... chomp chomp.

Overall, though, I was pro shark. I mean, they came to the WATER, WHERE HE LIVES. And he was hungry, so. Seems like pretty reasonable behavior on his part. All these people had to do was just not go into the water, and they couldn't even do that--again, even having literally watched a shark attack happen. Having big parts of your body chomped off is basically just paying a stupidity tax at this point.

So, overall, it was definitely fine, it kept my attention, and I could even see a certain fondness for it growing over time. I'm glad I saw it but it will not become a new favorite, I don't think. I think if I watched it again it would be in a more background-noise or while I'm doing other stuff way--which is sometimes just the kind of movie I want.

[quaritching]

Some Avatar 3 thoughts and predictions!!

The new Na’vi

I absolutely adore the concept of fire Na’vi, however I’m truly hoping and praying that they don’t stick with the name “Ash people”. I mean, we don’t call the Metkayina the “Water people” so I really don’t see the point. It just sounds lame

Considering the Metkayina differed in color because of their environment, I believe the fire Na’vi will as well! We have no real reference as to what their environment really looks like, but I imagine they’d be a darker or purplish blue (red and blue = purple, wink wink), or maybe just a dull, greyish blue! I think purplish blue would look cooler and make more sense aesthetically, but since they’re dubbed the “Ash people” it does make me think they’ll be a greyish blue

I also think their eyes would be a slightly reddish shade of orange! Perhaps their tails would lack the tuft of hair on the tip and they’d sport short hair styles or tie their hair up and away so they don’t catch fire

James Cameron mentioned that instead of only seeing the “bad side” of the humans and the “good side” of the Na’vi, we’d actually see the “bad side” of the Na’vi as well! I don’t think this is an original thought, but I believe the fire Na’vi are supposed to be the “bad side”, that in this movie we’ll get more Na’vi vs Na’vi action instead of the Na’vi vs Human action that we’ve seen in the two previous movies

The Sullys and the Metkayina

I read somewhere that even with the introduction of a new Na’vi type, we’ll still see plenty of the new characters that were introduced in ATWOW! Safe to say we’ll still see the sully kids and the main Metkayina people that were introduced to us. I hope we get to see them a little more grown up! Especially little Tuk!

As we all know, Spider saved Quaritch at the very end and did not tell anyone about it. While he did not actually kill Neteyam (that was Lyle), Quaritch takes the blame in their eyes for even hunting Jake and endangering his family to begin with. Neytiri and Lo’ak are definitely going to be angry, I’m not so sure if Kiri and Jake are gonna try to defend him but the betrayal is gonna hit them all hard for sure. It’s gonna be hard on Lo’ak especially since he was the one who went back to save Spider and dragged Neteyam with him, and then he later gets shot when they all try to flee. Out of all of them Kiri would be the one most likely to come to his defense, but who knows! Very very interesting I think!

While I don’t truly see this happening, if they were to bring Neteyam back I would hope it’d be as a Tulkun. Since Na’vi are “born twice” and energy is taken and returned (he was returned to the sea specifically), I could see it happening, but I honestly hope he just stays dead. If he were to be revived his death would feel meaningless. Sorry Neteyam stans but you know it’s true lol

I think it’s pretty obvious that Grace’s pregnancy was a gift from Eywa, and that Kiri has no real father. Like I said before, energy is taken and returned. Grace did not take energy from Eywa, but she gave her energy, herself, to Eywa when she died during the transfer ceremony. I think Eywa was returning the energy and that created Kiri! I’m very excited for Kiri to explore more of her connection to Eywa and Pandora in the next movie as well

Colonel Miles Quaritch

The real question is, How does Quaritch fit into all this since we know that he’s alive at the end of the movie? Here are some of the ideas I’ve had:

He does not go back to the RDA immediately, and instead finds himself struggling to survive in the wilderness of Pandora OR he goes back to the RDA and because of his massive failure, they throw him out and he has to learn how to survive on Pandora. I don’t think the second option is really possible though, I think the RDA would just kill him rather than let him go if it ever were to come down to that considering how dangerous he is to them, especially if he were to pull a Jake Sully

Whether or not he goes through the 1st scenario, he stumbles upon the fire Na’vi and finds a way to bring that force with him to fight Jake Sully and whoever he has backing him up. Full on Na’vi vs Na’vi, one side led by Jake and the other led by Quaritch. Raw as hell.

Redemption arc baby!! (This is gonna be a big one so hang on tight)

As we’ve seen in ATWOW, Recom Quaritch is not the same as his human counterpart. Recom Quaritch is basically a Na’vi shell with the inserted memories and personality of the human Colonel, and it is stated multiple times that Quaritch is not him ( e.g. “I’m not that man, but I do have his memories” and “[Spider’s] not your son” ).

Besides the literal difference, there’s many small things that Recom Quaritch does in this movie that I believe human Quaritch never would’ve done or bothered with. Quaritch shows an interest in being more Na’vi in order to better understand the enemy, like learning the language for example. This is not necessary, spider is more than capable of translating anything for them so Quaritch never truly had to learn Na’vi, but he tried regardless.

When the recom squad gets to the village to question the people about Jake Sully’s whereabouts, he listens to Spider’s plea and does not shoot the Tsahik, or anyone for that matter. The old Quaritch absolutely would’ve shot her, but Recom Quaritch orders their homes to be burned instead. He still has a mission to fulfill and he still needs to leave a message. Yes, it’s still a horrible thing to do but it’s objectively better than murder, they can rebuild their home but they cannot bring the dead back to life. It’s a subtle difference but I think it’s a really important one considering how Quaritch was more than happy to kill the Na’vi and destroy Hometree in the first movie (he basically enjoyed it if we’re being honest).

This could be argued, but he looked uncomfortable imo when they began to hunt the Tulkun. Recom Quaritch is very open with his emotions in this movie, it’s very obvious when he feels triumphant (like bonding with his Ikran) or when he feels conflicted/upset/frightened (Seeing his skull, watching cam footage of his death, and seeing Neytiri’s arrows). During the hunt, you can very clearly see Scoresby enjoying every minute, a stark contrast to how uninterested/uncomfortable Quaritch seemed to be. He even asks Scoresby if the Tulkun ever fight back, purely out of curiosity I think, but I also think that maybe a small part of him hoped that they would fight back. He has his own Ikran, he bonds with it through tsaheylu and knows how it feels, and I’d like to believe that’s started to change the way he sees the wildlife on Pandora, tulkun included. They hunt the tulkun basically as a last resort anyway, it’s not like Quaritch wanted to hunt them in the first place, it’s just something that he believes has to be done in order to lure out Jake since interrogating the villages was not working.

Another notable thing is that he sacrifices his last bit of leverage (Kiri) the moment he thinks Spider may die. He cares about Spider so much that he’s willing to be at a disadvantage in completing his revenge mission, a mission that is the whole reason for his current existence. He’s also at a physical disadvantage the moment he lets Kiri go because then he has nothing stopping both Jake AND Neytiri from attacking him. Quaritch also seemed upset/annoyed with the interrogation Spider went through and very quickly shut down the machine, claiming he wanted to try a different approach. It’s very hard for me to believe human Quaritch would’ve made these same decisions, he really only cared about saving humanity. Recom Quaritch cares about Spider, he cares about being a good father to him.

Something else that I noticed that I believe could be argued as well is that Quaritch never actually wanted to kill the kids, and to him they were simply a way to get to Jake. He puts a gun to Lo’ak’s head and tells Jake he’ll let his son go if he comes forward, and if he doesn’t he’ll kill Lo’ak. Whether or not he kills Lo’ak is irrelevant, even if he shot him Jake would’ve still went after him for killing his son. But Quaritch doesn’t do that, he waits for Jake to stroll on up. Payakan interrupts that as we know, so everything goes to shit and the fighting begins. Later when Tsireya tries to free Tuk, Quaritch simply throws her in the water instead of actually causing any harm or killing her. Again, when he later uses the comm he threatens the lives of Kiri and Tuk, telling Jake the deal is still on and he’ll let his daughters go if he offers himself up. Why not just kill them? There’s no reason to keep them alive, the only difference is Jake offering himself up semi peacefully or Jake coming at him with the intent to kill. Either way he would’ve had Jake coming to him, and human Quaritch doesn’t really seem like the type of person to just let “prisoners” go. Again this could definitely be argued, this is probably my least solid point towards his redemption lol

I definitely believe there’s a lot of potential for there to be a redemption arc of some sort with him, I don’t think he’ll be some saint or anything but he could definitely be a more neutral or anti-hero type of character. Stephen Lang even said that Quaritch is going to go more Na’vi or something in the next movie so this kindaaa makes me think the redemption arc is the most viable. Unless that means he’ll team up with the fire Na’vi? I suppose we’ll just have to see 👀

The RDA

Because it’s been heavily hinted that the fire Na’vi are going to be the main threat instead of the humans, that raises the question of what exactly are the RDA going to do now? How are they relevant?

I believe they’re simply going to lie low during the 3rd movie, trying to recuperate and rebuild after the heavy losses they took. They lost a lot of people, basically all the recoms (Minus Quaritch and possibly Lyle and Mansk since their deaths were not seen on screen), and the whole SeaDragon ship with all of its materials and deployables at the bottom of the sea

They’ll probably be back for the 4th movie, since we know how persistent they are and how desperate they are to colonize Pandora to save the rest of humanity. General Ardmore didn’t get a lot of time to shine in ATWOW, but if the RDA returns in the 4th movie I imagine she’ll have a bigger role and could possibly be the main antagonist like Quaritch was in the first movie

[suna-reversed]

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

toji fushiguro x reader

You could have anyone you want

Why would you want to be with me?

I’m nothing special

WC- 8k+ || MINORS DNI !!

my fic for the “great conjunction collab”

Warnings/tags- (unprotected sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, choking, nipple play, mating press, size kink, slight breeding kink) (historical AU, non-canon timeline, greek mythology, hades-persephone retelling, mentions of misogyny/sexism, depression, religion, hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, major character injury, descriptions of blood, violence and death, manipulation)

𝙀𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙖 - 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙

It would be an understatement to say that Toji, despite being one of them, had never felt like part of the clan and had hated the whole Zenin bloodline through all his years of suffering.

And the only thing he hated more than his own blood? It was the damned nobles who looked down upon him- mocking his lack of power under whispers and rumours. The spineless cowards didn’t even have the courage to spit those venomous words at his face.

He kept note of every single one of them- it was hard not to with how their laughs echoed in his mind each night as he dug his nails into his palms. So of course his attention was bound to drift towards the mother and daughter from a titled family that happened to take residence in the Zenin estate when they got news that their home down-south had been attacked. 

𝘼𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙚𝙖- 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

Your home had not been attacked. It was all planned of course- your travel to the mountains up north that crossed the Zenin abode, your mother having fabricated the news so that she had an excuse to find an honourable match for you from one of the most powerful clans. Her sly spies had already done the dirty work, providing you with two suitable men- even if one of them was twice your own age and the other known for his aggressiveness. 

The white gown your mother had dolled you in and the orchids she had braided into your hair had every single eye focused on you as you made your way up to your chambers. You kept your head down, too nervous to meet the eye of anyone- hoping no older man took an interest in your facade of purity and innocence and decided to stake his claim on your body. Oh, how you wished you could get away from this life, get away from the wretched woman you had to call your mother, get away from all of it- the stupid clan- the stupid suitors- the stupi-

“Ah!” 

You yelped as your body crashed into what seemed to be a rock hard wall of muscles, the scent of night chilled mist and cedar taking over your senses. You blinked. 

Gulping, you moved back a step, ready to start sputtering apologies before your mother peeled your skin off for already having embarrassed yourself. Instead, your words stayed stuck in your throat as your gaze met with an intense pair of orbs- filled to the brim with the rage of achilles, but somehow also his sorrow. Your breath hitched in your throat, and in the back of your mind, you knew you should do something- move, apologise, scowl like a noble lady would if nothing else- but all you could do was stand there stunned, the man’s stance mirroring your own. 

You flinched as the pot-bellied butler who was leading you down the hallway came back, and you thought the dark haired man might kill him right there for interrupting the burning moment between you two. Instead, you were shocked as he let himself get pushed to the side, stuffing his hands into his pockets, head down as he made a beeline towards the exit.

You barely felt the crescent moons being engraved into your skin as your mother dragged you to your room by the arm, a clipped smile on her face. 

𝙊𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙪𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙚- 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

“Toji”

He continued walking, even as his eyes held a warning look. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace.

“Toji-”

He shuddered. Say it again, he wanted to command, instead he turned the corner, hands curling into tight fists.  

He had been confused at first, almost appalled, at you- at your audacity to try and act like he wasn’t who he was- a piece of scum, the lowest of the lowly in the clan. But it seemed like this is how you had decided to spend the rest of your time whenever you weren’t being flagged by suitors or being paraded around your mother as the ideal of a chaste loyal wife. 

He had indulged you the first time you had struck up a conversation. Perhaps that was his initial mistake. His second being committed just now as he turned to you, the glee on your face making bile rise up to his throat. He had seen women like you before- well born “ladies” of the court in dire need of a good fuck, before they were packaged off like objects to a husband who’d only ever look at them as a vessel for carrying his children. Toji huffed in annoyance, eyes doing a quick scan of his surroundings before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the storage rooms right around the corner. 

“Look-”

Toji cut himself off as he saw the baffled look on your face, your eyes starting to fill up with fear and panic. Somehow, he found himself speechless, the bitter words of telling you to go look for pleasure in a whorehouse now dissolving on the tip of his tongue.

He knew who you were being considered as a match for- having overheard the conversation during a clan meeting- it was supposed to be the sons of one of the higher ups and he could already picture the half wilted life you’d be living. And right then, something clicked in Toji’s mind- all those years of hatred and resentment flashing before his eyes as you hesitantly stepped back, tears welling up in your eyes, and right there, Toji knew what he wanted to do- what he had to. 

He took a deep breath and your heart hammered even harder in your chest. He had been different from the rest of them- you had known it from the first time. However, now you doubted your own wits, trying to recall the ways of combat you had seen the soldiers back home perform- even though you didn’t quite see how you’d succeed against the tall burly mass of flesh that towered above you. You jumped back as he strode right towards you- eyes clenched shut, hands raised in front of your face ready for the impact and pain. 

You were met with nothingness, barely feeling the light brush of his arm as he moved past you. 

Toji sighed at your almost childish antics, even though he agreed your actions would have been justifiable if it was any other man having pulled you into such a secluded place. He waited for you to calm down, lazily looking for the latch of the huge glass window situated on the other side of the room. He easily lifted it open, biceps flexing as he did so- placing his hands on the ledge before pulling himself to the other side.

He turned back towards your gawking figure, rolling his eyes, ready to put forward the offer that would decide if you were worth his time and effort or not. He extended his hand, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to the tip of his ears at the giddy relief-filled grin that spread across your face as he asked, 

“You ever visited the countryside princess?” 

--

You must be an angel in disguise, he finds himself thinking. It terrified him- the time he had spent staring at the column of your neck, watching your chest fall and rise with every breath- and the time he could have spent simply admiring every crook and nook of your body. 

You looked serene in the golden hour of the afternoon, lying on the grass with your eyes shut, sunlight cascading down your figure making it seem as if you carried your own halo. Toji was afraid you’d sprout wings any second now, disappearing away to someplace heavenly- someplace better than the hell you were about to be condemned to- someplace that didn’t have monsters like him. But at last, you were only a human- soon to be one of the Zenins if nothing else. 

The time you had sneaked out to the lake in the countryside with him had not been the last of your rendezvous. You had been quite different from what Toji had expected. You hadn’t made any advances towards him but you weren’t the pure little thing everyone believed you to be either.

You were smart to say the least- a trait that families often suppressed in women of your status, trying to force them into nothing but submissive concubines for their future husband. You were oddly aware of it- had mentioned your doomed fate quite a few times now, and he was struck by how you always laughed, as if your own self being stripped away was a joke. You seemed to do that quite a bit, and he understood it in some twisted way of his own plight. 

Even as his mind kept reminding him that you had still grown up being pampered, being spoiled, having others do your work for you- others like him. But conversation had flowed so naturally with you, he found himself showing you more and more of his places of solitude he had found all over the village through his years of misery.  

You were also naive in many ways, but still blunt in twice as many. Toji had rolled his eyes as he had asked you what you did with your free time back home- the answer was expected- it always had to be something related to the arts and education, trying to pump the ladies full of culture so that they have something to talk about at the dozen balls and galas they’d be attending every month. However, he had almost choked on the pear he chewed as you had started listing names of erotica after erotica- the titles being lewd enough to let him know just how filthy the content inside would be. 

You had burst into laughter at the look on his face, crumbs of fruit left on the side of his mouth making him look even more bizarre. You had reached up your fingers almost instinctively, eyes widening as you realised you had brushed them over the scar he never seemed to talk about. His hand was wrapped around your wrist in less than a second, halting it in place. 

He had stared right back at you, breaths heavy, eyes calculating as he loosened the grip around your skin, but not before he lifted your fingers to press against the mark once more. You swore you could have heard the drumming of your heart, and perhaps he did too.

As you brushed away the remaining bit of the sweet fruit, you couldn’t help but notice the flush that had formed on his cheeks, even as he scowled. 

𝙀𝙧𝙤𝙨- 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚.

“You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

You’re bent over the table in the storage room that has somehow become your portal of escape from the person you have to pretend to be. It’s not the first time Toji has whispered his filthy administrations into your ear, but he’s never done it quite so close to where anyone could walk in and catch you red handed. 

Perhaps it was the fact that his face had turned a sick shade of green at the sight of your suitor tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips twitching upwards at something he said- the same way they had twitched up the night before when he had risen from in between your legs, the taste of yourself flooding your mouth as he had pressed his lips to yours. 

This is exactly what you were here for, and despite it, Toji knew who’s name you screamed at the end of every day. So then why did another hand on you ignite a bestial flame inside his chest? Why did he feel the need to pull you away in the dead of the night amongst the crowd of tipsy people, ridding you of the fabric of your dress in one swift movement as he had pressed you against the nearest surface. 

You didn't panic for even a moment, you knew it was his hand just from the touch of it, his hot breath against the shell of your ear, and his throbbing member pressed against the curve of your behind as a thumb rubbed circles into your hip bone. 

You throw your head back against his muscular chest, craning your neck upwards till you meet his eyes- they soften for the briefest of moments, but the way his tip brushes against your underwear-clad core seems to fill them with raw electricity once more. And you think he’s going to fuck you right there- make you cry out his name for letting another man so close to you. Instead, you gasp as his rough hands grab the flesh of your thighs, kneading the muscle as he spins you around, a smirk being flashed your way as he gets on his knees. 

He looks ethereal in that moment. And your breath hitches in your throat as you realise you’ve made a fallen angel bow before you- have tricked him into thinking you can cleanse him of his deeds when the only sinner in this room was you. The way his lips press against the inside of your thighs, nose rubbing against your freshly flowing juices- it’s tantalising, even worse when he takes both your hands in his as they try to find solace in his locks, pinning them to your sides onto the table instead. 

He rests his chin right below the apex of your mound, eyes wandering to your face as he sighs, the lazy but smug curve of his lips accentuating the scar you had grown to cherish as much as your own heartbeat.

Your chest is heaving, the sound of your heavy breathing hanging in the silence of the room as you look down at him. If this was to be his ruination- his fall from grace- Toji would die a happy man. The scent of you is lingering right below his nose, his mouth watering alone at the thought, but he cannot seem to pull away his eyes from your beguiling face, bathed in the moonlight. The words seem to escape him before he can think twice of them.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

You’ve barely let his words settle in before he presses his thumb right against your wet heat, rubbing small circles onto your sensitive bud. You don’t have a chance to respond as he proceeds to dive into your drenched cunt- his tongue giving kitten-licks to your clit, lapping up any wetness that dares to drip down. You cry out loud as two of his fingers join his mouth’s onslaught, slapping a hand against your own mouth remembering where you were. 

The sounds filling the room as he suctions your clit in between his lips are filthy- arms wrapping around and under your thighs, pulling your arousal even closer to his starving mouth, the new angle of your leg being thrown over his shoulder letting his fingers rub against the spongy spot inside your walls that makes the coil in your stomach snap. You’re grinding against his face and he’s letting you, nose pressing onto your clit as he licks up the remnants of your juices, fingers continuing to fuck you through your climax as they quiver and shake around his head. 

You’re still coming down from your high, body hanging limp at an awkward angle against the hard wooden surface. His strong burly arms are easily lifting you up, carrying you towards the other side of the room- right towards the glass window. Your eyes widen as you realise the malicious idea that has popped up into your lover’s head, but you’re barely able to put in two words of protest before your feet are hitting the ground, the cold surface making you gasp as your tits are pushed against it. You’re crying out loud as he rubs his thick length against your soppy folds. 

“Toji- someone could see us- we shouldn’t- ah!”

You’re cut off as he lines himself up at your entrance, a pleasurable burn down in your core as his girth stretches your walls. It always hurts. No matter how many times he’s made you cum on his fingers and tongue or prepped you up with an ointment- his size is something no one would ever get accustomed to. He knows it too, but tonight he seems to care less about taking it slow and letting you adjust. You honestly cannot care less too, not when you're gushing around him as such when he’s barely even halfway inside. 

“Too big Toji- too much.” You’re mewling, hands trying to grip onto something.

“You can take it- fuck just let me-”

He’s hastily moving his fingers across your stomach to rub your pulsing bud, groaning lewdly at the way your cunt flutters around him, letting him move deeper inside of you.

The growl that leaves him as his tip hits your cervix is grossly animalistic, making you moan loudly. His other hand is coming up to grip your jaw, cheek pressed against the glass as he lifts up one of your legs, the angle letting him thrust in and out of your poor drenched hole even deeper. His thrusts turn sloppy, eyes clenched shut above you as the sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh with each thrust fill the room.

You’re both groaning in unison, his strokes getting faster as he feels your walls clamping down on him. You’re choking on a breath as his hand moves to wrap around your throat, the sensation making you moan even louder.

“Call me selfish-”  

A sharp smack is delivered against the flesh of your ass causing you to arch your back, the action making your tits press up against the window even more,

 “... but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

His lips have been suctioned to your neck, your delightful noises being muffled as he’s turning your head to the side till his tongue slips into your mouth. He tightens his grip around your neck and you’re seeing stars, along with the pace of his fingers on your clit and his rapid thrusts making the well in the bottom of your stomach come apart, tears of pleasure slipping your eyes, the feeling of his seed painting your walls making you clench against him amidst your own orgasm.

You barely feel the arms cradling your body, carrying you to set you down on the table. You furrow your brows as Toji strips himself of his shirt, and your eyes widen at the thought of him ravishing you once more so soon. Instead, you shudder as he swipes it against your sex, cleaning up his mess. 

The way you beam at him, even in your exhausted state, is honestly worth the ruined shirt- he finds himself thinking as he moves to pick up your dress from the ground. He clicks his tongue as he realises just how much of shreds he had ripped it into in his feral daze. He’s lifting his head to meet your eyes, wondering how he’ll tell you that you have to find a way to get back to your chambers in this state- 

“Oh-”

Your saccharine voice is pulling Toji out of his thoughts, surprise forming across his face as you burst into laughter at the sight of what he’s sure has cost twice as much as all the clothes he’d ever owned combined. 

“How well do you think I’d fare going out in one of the potato sacks?” 

How could he have not smiled right back at you. 

𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙨- 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙚

Toji had never wanted to rip his own heart out so badly before, inject his blood with ambrosia so that he could be worthy enough for the goddess that was ready to abandon her sanctity- her piece of heaven- for him. He had always known how it would end- in an empty heath of a fire gone out long ago, the only thing keeping it burning now regret and sorrow.

 Love could not have sustained you when there was barely enough space to breathe, when there was barely enough food for your kids to live off of. Once the love faded, all that’d remain would be your wish to go back to the past, getting drunk on forgetfulness so that you can survive within the stone cold walls of a house- not a home.

Once again, Toji knew what he had to do- knew he willingly stepped into this hoping to ruin what was supposed to be the prize of his own blood- in order to humiliate them and fulfill his revenge.

He also knew he was the ruined one now as thoughts of you plagued his mind day and night- how his tactful game of cat and mouse had turned into sweet kisses and hushed giggles, and how all he wanted was to find a pit stop in time where his blood did not matter, where the sins of his past did not matter. But despite it all, he knew he couldn’t have dragged you into his own hell, even if you begged him to take you.

He sighs. 

You had recited the exact conversation you had with your mother- laid yourself bare before him as you poured out your heart- letting him know that it’d be worth tasting the 7 seeds of evil even if it meant living in hell for half your life. 

He had thrown his head back and laughed. 

“You really thought our little getaways meant anything more than a fling to me? More than just a decent fuck?”

You stood still, mouth agape at the words that had slipped past his lips, a hand fisting the fabric of his shirt right above his heart, desperately searching for the pulse of the man you’d grown to adore over the past few weeks. 

He had looked down at you, the scar you had so tenderly ran your fingers over twitching upwards- in amusement- in laughter, face contorting into one of resentment- of revulsion before he had suddenly stilled. 

“Did you forget your place princess? Pretty little head got too lost in a fool’s paradise- did you forget you are one of them- always have been one of them.”

He had spat the last words at you and you wanted to shake your head, wanted to tell him he was utterly wrong, but all you could do was clutch on even tighter to him.

He had put his hand over yours and you had almost begged for him to tell you that this was a sick joke- almost pleaded for him to intertwine his calloused warm hands with yours as he always did- as he had when he made you scream his name, instead you had found yourself gasping at the icy touch as he flicked away your wrist, brows furrowing in repulsion at the contact- at you.

The tears that had slipped through your eyes had only worked to make him throw his head back like a giddy child once more. He had looked up at the sky as if he was mocking the gods in Olympus - look at how I’ve so beautifully wrecked what you created,

while you had stood there looking up at him as if he was your religion, mouthing,

this is not a joke, love me, love me.

𝙊ï𝙯ú𝙨- 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

You felt raw. But you did not fight the black hole opening up in your chest. You let it settle into your bones, nurtured the hollowness- ignited it until you felt it turn into flames instead.

You couldn’t have let the ice creep into your heart- it would mean giving up the tears, giving up the feeling of wanting to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath, and that would mean you no longer felt- no longer harboured the only thing that made you feel alive in the cage of bones and flesh your troubled mind resided in. 

There was a heavy pain in between the arch of your shoulder blades- like your wings had been clipped and your halo ripped away.

You ignored the scowl that rose to her face, the way she flinched as you leaned over to rest your head in her lap. You couldn’t tell if the wetness on your cheeks was yours or hers- mourning the daughter she was going to lose. You felt your mother’s burning gaze through the back of your head all throughout the journey back home- could already feel the wrath of your father and the nasty bruises that were to come as her hand came down to rest on your head. 

You instead found yourself being locked away immediately- not a single word from anyone. The only time your door opened was for a maid to serve you your half portioned meals. Not like you had an appetite or a will to do anything else. 

Days passed by, perhaps weeks or months, and you counted the scattered marks on the wall beside your bed like you had done once with the freckles across his back, and you waited-  for what? You weren’t quite sure yourself. You waited and waited until the day your door opened, but it wasn’t the regular pitter patter of steps of the maid who served the food.

Instead, your eyes met the raging ones of the head of your clan, and for the first time in days, an icy shiver creeped up your spine.

----

The torment you’re put through is much worse than expected. You were well aware you were to be disgraced, to be stripped of your title, but somehow the gaze of your own friends and family avoiding your beaten bloody form and ignoring your whimpers and cries of agony was what had stung the most. 

The world seemed to be upside down, fading in and out of hues of colour and greys and blinding lights. You could barely feel the blood dripping down the back of your head and into your shirt as your gaze managed to remain focused on the window outside of the rattling carriage you lay in, panic rising in your chest as you recognised the familiar scenery. 

You fought your hardest to stay awake, but you lost to the increasingly heavy pressure against your head, hoping your blood would run dry before you had to face the hell you were being thrown into. As your head lolled to the side, you wondered if satiating the hunger within you was worth the price you were paying- if this was what happened to every soul that had brought the god of the dead to his knees, wondered if you were the first to do so- wondered if you’d be the last. 

𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨- 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩

Toji had left the clan- made a living of his own by doing what he did best, by doing what he was made to- destroying and causing wreckage till there was no piece of his soul left to be salvaged. 

He had avoided news about you like the plague, and had still ended up finding out that you were locked away back at your home from the gossiping servants. He had chuckled bitterly, what had he been expecting? He was right after all, you'd never have to face any consequences in life, and soon this whole scandal would be swept under the rug and you would be well on your way to marrying another wealthy brat, having filthy little kids with him who’d have the same luxuries in life and-

Toji found his heart dropping, the axe along with the freshly chopped wood he carried thumping down against the forest floor as he reached the entrance of the wooden cabin he had taken residence in. He saw the pool of blood first- the familiar mop of hair later.

No-

He must be hallucinating- 

But he still found himself moving out of his own accord, gathering the crumpled figure into his arms, feeling a thick fluid drip down his skin- stain through his shirt as he tried to pick you up. A chill ran down his spine as he realised what those savages had done for your body to resist even in an unconscious state- 

And that’s when his eyes slid to the nails in the ground, the sharp metal going right through the flesh of your fingertips, a note pinned to your abdomen in between your shredded dirtied clothes-

“We don’t want the gross wreckage of your perverse ruination. Keep the whore since you wanted her so much.” 

A sea of rage rose in the back of Toji’s mind but it stilled, the vicerating waves crashing against the shore that was the barely noticeable action of your chest heaving. He held back what was a choked sob, mind barely sane as he took out the nails as gently as possible- a man so familiar with death yet utterly horrified by it as he counted your laboured breaths, thanked every deity out in the universe for every huff of air that he could feel against his chest as he carried you inside. 

—

How do you kill a god? 

You had asked him once. He had raised his brow, ruffling your hair before pushing you down onto the bed once more, intent on at least letting you know how you got to heaven. 

How do you kill a god?

It now echoed in his mind as he watched your broken body lay on his bed, having done everything he could have to fix you up even though he feared there would be wounds more than just the physical ones when you gained consciousness- if you gained consciousness.

How do you kill a god? 

Pit him against another god. Let him stare at his own reflection and see all his glorious flaws until he’s falling to his knees, begging for the taste of ichor to be washed out from his mouth, begging to be stripped of his damned divinity- because the curse of immortality is a heavier burden to carry than the curse of mundane suffering- because it’s easier to drown in a sea full of blood than live with it staining your hands.

𝘼𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚- 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“How do you kill a god?” You had asked him once.

Afterwards, you had lain awake late into the night as he had given you a taste of his own holiness, bare in his arms as he had muttered the words into your hair, barely a whisper as they escaped past his bleeding lips, 

How do you become a god?

The burning light attacked your eyes and you flinched loud enough for your own ears to ring, and then flinched even harder as the hot searing pain spread through your body, especially across the tips of your bandage covered fingers. You tried to use your voice but your throat was like a desert and your own harsh whisper scraped against your sensitive ears.

All you could do was stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, lying numb, waiting for your saviour- or perhaps your torturer to come.

All had gone still once the door opened, your gaze falling onto the familiar hands that carried a bowl of water and about a dozen different small bottles in a basket. You stared through him, through his wide blown eyes and through the sigh of relief that left his mouth as he rushed towards you. 

How do you become a god?

There was much more you had wanted to tell your mother. You had told her you were sick of pretending, sick of being the goddess of spring when everything you touched died in your hands- how every beam of light you emitted was a stolen one from another soul. Perhaps, you had always craved pomegranates and death - had always willingly walked into the darkness with a smile and open arms.

How do you become a god?

You let him plead and writhe to have a taste of your lips - make him believe it is his only salvation. And right when his lips meet yours, you dig your teeth in deep and not let go, even as his fingers grip the column of your throat and his growls rumble inside your mouth. You let the trail of crimson coat your tongue and feel his tears burn your flesh- you make him taste your blood and take his throne. 

—

He says your name like it’s a prayer and you want to rip out his heart.

Instead, you turn your head towards the wall opposite to where he stands, clenching your eyes shut, hoping the next time you wake up it won’t be here. 

Still, you can hear his voice. Every single day of every waking moment- even as you sleep- even as you wake up in cold sweat haunted by the bittersweet melody of his laughter the day he crushed your heart in two, or the time your own blood nailed you down into the earth. 

But most of all, you hate it when you can hear the gruffness of his voice, still heavy from sleep as you let him cradle your head, shushing you- letting you know it was just a nightmare- but it was a nightmare you had lived through- a nightmare he had put you through. 

Not that he didn’t acknowledge it equally as much. It was odd- almost laughable the way he was so desperate to bring even just a flicker of the light back inside your eyes, breaking free from his stoic and tight lipped demeanour to whisper grossly sweet nothings into your hair.

He had explained his regrets the first few days that you had refused to even look at him, simply staring at the wall as he stripped you of your clothes to redo your bandages, not even the barest of reaction visible across your face. He had caused this. 

The first words you had muttered to him weren’t of hatred or anger or sadness- they were said into the heavy air, late into the hours before dusk at a point in time where your bones still couldn't support the burden of your body, 

“I need to pee.” 

You had said it through gritted teeth, had scowled throughout the process of him picking you up and carrying you into the bathroom, giving you privacy to do your business. 

The second time you had spoken to him was right after and it had somehow dented itself much deeper than he had expected it to, even as it was all he had been preparing himself for in the past few days, 

“I hate you.”

You had said it with no anger, no poison in your words- had simply stated it like it was a mere fact. 

“I know.”

—

It was weeks later and you seemed to have fallen into a strange routine.

He’d go out to do his filthy work, come back bathed in blood and dirt, even as he washed himself off outside thinking he was sly with it. You’d pretend not to notice as you’d cook for yourself, sometimes leaving bits behind as leftovers even if you had purposely spilled the extra bit of rice- had regretted it as soon as you had realised you had done it because he hadn’t had dinner in three days.

Perhaps it was the irony of the situation, and maybe even the cold winter air creeping into your bones that let him move from simply holding you when you woke from your nightmares- to him warming your bed at night even when you dreamed of nothing but the scar beside his lip. 

Still, you let him know you despised him every night that he pulled your body against his chest and every morning that he rubbed his warm hands up and down your arms. Even as you felt yourself leaning into his touch, felt your heart softening at how he’d mutter apologies into your hair while he thought you were asleep, how he’d pay attention to the foods you took more of and made sure to get twice the amount next time, how he’d shred his own shirts to provide you with cloth for when you got your monthly cycles. Yet, you couldn’t find any other words to say to him. 

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚- 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

You had woken up alone as you did on most mornings, grateful that you wouldn’t have to face the shame that came with having your limbs tangled with him. The day was like any other yet different, perhaps it was the monotonous dread of living a life such as this- of having to live at all after being stripped of everything you had called yours.

You had somehow ended up taking steps outside of the wooden door, outside of the small garden the burly man used to grow his own vegetables, and even farther outside the vines and shrubs that kept the cabin hidden from any unwanted visitors.

You had walked and walked till your feet carried you to the edge of the world, a never ending fall down below from where you stared at, the sound of water flowing signalling the presence of a river running deep under the steep cliff.

You had stopped walking, the silence of the forest being the only noise to have outdone the heavy emptiness in your heart in months. And you simply continued to stand there, bare feet digging into the dirt and grass and stone, barely realising when the light faded away and darkness took over. Hadn’t it always been like this? 

It had taken no more than two rounds of the house and the trail of footsteps in the garden out back for Toji to realise you had left. His heart had dropped into his chest as he had followed the dents of your feet in the ground, careful not to step on them as his mind bitterly reminded him that it may be the last of what’s left of you by now.

He knew where the trail you had walked along led- had himself sat on the edge of it once, legs dangling off as he his mind had replayed the memory of your glossy eyes and crestfallen face when he had hit you with those fatal words months ago. Toji’s breath hitches in his throat, hands shaking as he pulls away the last branch blocking the view of the edge of the cliff. 

His feet are moving faster than his mind can think as he all but falls onto his knees, clutching your abdomen as if you’d disappear forever if he let you go now. You turn around in his arms, a look of confusion on your face, your eyes still as hollow as a void but all he cares about right now is the steady thumping he can feel with his chest pressed to yours. He’s clenching his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before he’s sliding his hand into yours. You don’t protest- letting him lead you back into the warm safety of his house and he’s too relieved to consider whether your lack of resistance is a good thing or not. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and you can hear him ruffling through something in the bathroom, door ajar, eyes glancing towards you every two seconds as if he’s expecting you to bolt out the door any second now. For once, you don’t want to stare at the wall as he walks towards you, getting down on his knees- making a blow of nostalgia hit you right in the gut. But your eyes remain fixed at the top of his head, at the dark locks that had grown out much more since the last time you had let yourself gaze at him. 

You only realise what he’s been doing as you notice the bowl of water kept on the floor, hands gently lifting up your dirty feet, cleaning them of the mud and the blood from small scrapes. He’s lifting up your legs onto the bed once he’s done, adjusting your pillow as a gesture for you to lay down. He’s blowing out the lamps and soon enough you feel the mattress dip, his arms engulfing you tighter than ever before. You can feel the slight tremble in them and you feel guilty for the small pinch in your chest. You wait for his breathing to steady, head to fall limp into the crook of your neck before you roll over towards him in the dark, eyes set on the small crinkle between his forehead and brow. 

The warm hand that cups Toji’s cheek has him convinced that he may have lost his mind. Opening his eyes, he knows for sure that you have. Especially as you slide your other hand into his, pulling it till it’s placed onto the crest between your collarbone and chest, adjusting it a little more towards the left. Toji’s staring intently at you, wondering if this is your way of telling him that you’re still alive- that even though you’ve been cursed and damned to living in this hell, your heart still beats- it still fights. 

Toji bares his own emotions through a gesture- pulling the small hand that holds his to the apex between his upper ribs- pressing it till your fingers feel like they might just pass through his flesh. He hopes you know that if he could, he’d snap each one of his ribs open so that you can reach inside and press the palm of your hand against his beating heart, rip it right out of his body and spit inside the hollow space of his ribs with contempt- even then he’d survive on your hatred alone if it means surviving with you for the rest of his life. 

“I don’t hate you.”

The words are whispered in the dead of the night with no emotion, no trace of forgiveness or affection- simply stated as if they are common knowledge.

The soft lips coming down on his own have his mind spinning. He realises what it is you wish for- to be able to live once again as a human, to feel once again as a mortal- he can almost almost hear you saying the words into his mouth as your fist bunches up the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m tired of being a god.” 

He can feel his own sentiment being passed right through as his hands slide under the cloth of his shirt that you wore, exploring the expanse of your reverenced skin, mouthing his response against your cupid’s bow.

“I’ll worship you even after you fall from grace.” 

And he does, pulling himself up on arms above you, dipping his fingers into your soaking sex, making quick work of ridding you and himself of your clothes. He’s tucking your legs against your chest, feet dangling over his broad shoulders as he comes forward to meet your lips. He’s pulling away and you’re mewling at the loss of contact- the loss of his taste. 

“Do you want this? Do you want-” He takes a deep breath, forehead coming forward to press against yours till your noses brush against each other, “...me?”

Your response comes in the form of sliding your hands to the back of his head, pulling him forward till his lips crash against yours once more- bucking your hips up till the tip of his massive girth is brushing against your heat. He doesn’t miss the moan that escapes you, eagerly kissing you back, moving to litter a plethora of kisses against your jaw- your neck- your collarbone. When he comes back up to your face, he’s well aware of the effect he’s had on you- the want in your eyes as you lift your hips against his once more, a small plea leaving your mouth. 

The need that comes over him is animalistic as he moves a hand down to position himself before sliding into your soppy hole, he swears he can see stars with how hungrily you swallow him in. You’re gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he strokes your insides so languidly. Your faces are close enough for you to feel his breath on your mouth, to feel the fall of the hot droplets on your cheeks, your own tears of grief- of freedom- of a love gone to waste so long ago combining as he continues to thrust in and out of you deeply. 

He’s dipping his head and the tears are being kissed away as his hand moves down to play with your over sensitive bud. You can't stop peppering kisses against his lips, moaning his name in his ear as he hits a particular spot inside you. He can feel you getting closer with how your breaths get deeper, fingers moving faster, strokes getting sloppier. 

You feel the tight coil in your stomach start to unravel, and all it takes is for him to lower his head and suction his lips around one of your nipples for you to come apart underneath him. He’s reaching his own arousal soon after, pulling out to spray his seed onto your stomach. He all but collapses on top of you, rolling over to his side once he catches his breath, another hitching in his throat as he finds you crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his waist as you bury your face into his naked chest. 

This is what being a god feels like. The taste of wine coating your tongue and the way his lips meld with yours- swallow you whole and then spit you out. You reach for him again in the dark, his chest panting against yours as the moonlight cascading from the window hits his face. You rest your chin against the centre of his chest, looking up at him with droopy eyes, his own stare right back at you- filled with tenderness and affection. 

“No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.” 

His voice is gruff and heavy, but carries a sincerity warm enough to send tingles down your back. You can’t quite place the look on his face, it's determined- pointed. You can feel the unravelling of the violence beneath his skin as his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and you wonder just what kind of monsters the god of the underworld plans to unleash.

His hand moves to caress the back of your head, adoration-filled eyes raking over your still panting figure. He presses his lips to your temple and says your name like a prayer. It all floods in- the pain- the love- the sorrow- the joy- you’re sobbing and he’s holding you like he has time and again. Only this time, he finds himself awestruck by the spark of ember that comes alive in your eyes, even if just for a second, he knows you’re going to be fine. 

-

The god of the dead had bowed before you, offered you his crown, his throne- would have ripped off the flesh from his own back and handed it to you without any hesitation if only you asked. 

You were the goddess of spring and everyone had loved your life and light, but who except him had acknowledged the death and destruction that came along- had reached out their hands into the rotten parts of your flesh and kissed every bruise and scar?

This was Toji Fushiguro’s life now, coming back home to his precious darling each day- the only burst of spring in his everlasting winter, the only ray of light in his world swallowed by darkness.

Tonight, as you lay on him bare-bodied and covered in sweat from your previous feat, he finds you asking him about the season, about how far the harvest festival was. He’s confused at your sudden curiosity but answers you nonetheless, telling you it’s in a fortnight. He finds himself asking why. 

“Every single member of our blood attends the festival- they had waited for it while they kept me away.” 

It’s the first time you’re talking about the incident and he can feel you quiver in his arms. It makes his blood boil, and he finds himself protectively pulling you even closer into him. 

“...they had wanted each and every single one of them to get a chance to cut through my skin.” 

That’s all you say before falling asleep, the tears on Toji’s chest making a storm of anger rage inside his mind. 

--

It’s a fortnight later and Toji watches the red and orange hues of the flames making your face glow brighter than the sun. 

You’re standing there hand-in-hand with him, looking over the half wrecked ruins of the village, the screams of the people you had grown up with- who had taken no less than a second to turn their backs on you- who had left you to die- now echoing in your ears. Right on the edge of the hilltop you stand on, you see a small figure running towards the slope, clothes burnt, high pitched sobs filling the air as it succumbs to the heat that had spread through it’s bones.  

She must’ve been eight or nine years old judging from her size and half burnt frills of the frock she wore. You know she’s at peace, much like the many others who would’ve faced nothing but agonising hardships being raised in the hands of your cruel persecutors- all of whom lay as nothing but bones and ash and dust now. 

Toji’s worried that he’ll find the same emptiness he’s spent months breaking through as he glances over at your face. Instead, there’s a fire being reflected in your eyes, a sadistically deliciously smile stretched across your supple cheeks. He finds his own lips curving as he grips your jaw to turn your head and press his lips to yours, the screams and shouts of your monsters merely anything but white noise as your fingers come to tangle in his hair. 

After all, Hades may have been the god of the dead, but it was Persephone’s wrath which brought upon the destruction.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

credit- prompt list

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[houseofbrat]

Why won’t Bea’s marriage survive? It’ll get too difficult for her? She seems to be happily married. I really really hope it does survive. I used to like Eugenie & Jack but I don’t any longer. Something’s off there.

Someone mentioned this video to me more than a year ago. I haven’t ever studied Beatrice’s (or Eugenie’s) charts very much. Usually just take a casual glance every now and then. 

And what the video points out is true. It is very likely that Beatrice & Edo will divorce. She very likely will have a second marriage. It seems hard to believe that Bea & Edo will separate & divorce, but it’s there in her chart.

When I look at Andrew’s chart, he’s about to go through a few shitty years. And that’s probably putting it nicely. As in, Andrew still has some defenders as of today. He probably won’t have defenders--except for the exceedingly stupid--by the time we get around to New Year’s Eve on 2026. 

Due to the absolute scandal that is going to happen--which is 100% Andrew’s fault--that’s going to place some pressures on Beatrice & Eugenie. It’s just a natural process of being the daughters of a man who is a total heat score, socially and legally. That in turn puts pressure on the marriage because the press is going to be relentless. 

And I know that I’ve been discussing with other anons the likelihood of Andrew attempting suicide but surviving. After taking another (brief) look at his chart, I’m not entirely sure Andrew is going to be alive when we get to 2030. Perhaps he doesn’t attempt suicide. Perhaps he attempts and survives for a few months or a couple of years, but the likelihood of Andrew making it to Charles’ current age (74) isn’t very likely. 

Marriage for many people can be hard enough, even if you love the person deeply. But add in a major, international scandal with your father/father-in-law and the UK press to the mix? Well, that would be enough to make anyone think twice about how much they want to endure.  

I don’t know much about Eugenie & Jack other than they’re currently in Portugal. There is one thing in particular about Eugenie’s chart that makes me pearl clutch when I open it up, but who knows, perhaps those two crazy kids will make it. 

[a-gal-with-taste]

Baked and Battered (3/4)

Summary: It's the classic story: Boy meets girl, Sumpsnipe meets Promenade-brat, baker meets rebel. And then it becomes so, so much more than that, for both of them.

(Inspired by @sweatandwoe​ ​ & Secret Ingredient, a must-read)

Warnings: SFW. Baker!Reader, romance, revolutionary-shenanigans, young love, time-skips, bit of world-building, slice-of-life-ish, hurt/comfort, humor, angst, eventual happy-ending

Part 1 | Part 2

A hand flashed out, with the intent to dive, grip, and never let go.

"Vander, stop it!"

You could hardly believe you were in this situation in the first place... your friend, the biggest, warmest fool and friend you had ever known, acting in such a way. It was appealing.

"Vander, enough!"

"I have to do what's best for Zaun," He insisted, and despite your protests, despite your fighting hards, desperate to ward him away, Vander succeeded in avoiding all your efforts, and snatching himself a cookie. Promptly shoving it into his mouth before you could slap it from him, "And I gotta make sure these are ripe for eatin'. Could be poisoned."

"Yes, Vander." You said flatly, giving Benzo a look of death-itself when he had the gall to start reaching for the plate. "I upgraded from frying-pans to poison."

The Hound of the Underground, grinned, elbowing his friend with a wink, "Told ya, deadliest of us all."

Rolling your eyes, you made sure to keep one on the large batch beside you on the counter, and the dozens - maybe even a solid hundred - others milling about the building.

When Silco had told you that Vander and Benzo, in all their genius, decided to purchase a bar to host their most important meetings with the Children of Zaun... you had to burst out laughing. The idea was absurd as it was perfectly in-character, and you still couldn't help but be utterly baffled that Silco allowed it to happen.

"It wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Gods no. A bar is acceptable as a public-forum, but as a central-base?"

"Well, then how did they sneak the deed past you? Did you not sign it?"

Silco's face had simultaneously turned sour and blank, and he had been quiet for a long time before replying. Theoretically to enjoy the food you had made for him... but in truth to avoid your bursting laughs at his confession for as long as possible.

"I was drunk when they put the paper in front of me."

In the present, you had to bite lightly on your knuckles not to giggle at the irony - was it the best piece of irony you had ever heard of? No, not really... but finding excuses to laugh were becoming rarer and rarer, and you knew you weren't the only one finding it difficult to laugh much these days.

Vander and Benzo, while locked in valiant battle for half of a cookie, both sported shadows under their eyes, and despite their age matching up close with yours they... looked old. Tired. Like the world was resting on their shoulders, and it was crushing.

You didn't like to think how Silco didn't look all that different, but couldn't stop from gazing out over the thick crowd of people in the bar, searching for the man himself, getting the urge to glance further up. A smile touched your lips, and you raised a hand to wave your fingers invitingly when you caught sight of him on the balcony above.

This was the first time you had been at The Last Drop, but it became clear quickly that though the ground-floor specialized in providing some entertainment, the second floor was entirely business, and mostly Silco's territory. Looking at him now, you knew he wasn't too thrilled by the party - eyes narrowed, flicking between his people with mouth pursed in a stern line...

Shadows beneath his eyes twice as dark, making something inside you twist. "Silco," You said, having no-hope with speaking over the music, boisterous laughter and conversation, but perhaps he was pre-tuned to your voice, for Silco's attention snapped towards you in seconds.

Gaze darkening briefly at the sight of Vander and Benzo, indeed acting like Children. It brightened, however slightly, when his eyes landed on you.

"Have you even sat down today?" You pressed gently when he strode down, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. You chose, for now, to ignore the wince he made at the motion - some bruise or other that you would take care of later, but for now, you reach over to pluck a cookie, give Vander a death-glare so he retracts his hand, and put it in Silco's. "Here, eat."

He has the nerve to sigh as he says your name, "I haven't developed an appetite today-"

"That wasn't a request. Eat."

The other Sons of Zaun chuckled at Silco's expense - and, in fairness, the man had guts of steel to actually pout between nibbles of a fresh-made cookie - but you shooed them both away as a stool was dragged over, and you pressed on his shoulders, gentle but firm, to force Silco down onto it. "C'mon, sit."

"Gonna ask 'im to shake too? Bastard already speaks well-enough..."

"I bite too, Vander," Silco said, and you blinked because... it wasn't a joke. The words were more than a bit ridiculous, but far-more absurd, was the fact that the two were glaring at each other.

And even after you shoved a cookie in the larger-one'a hand, shuffling him off to go mingle with his fellow revolutionaries - Benzo eager to follow - Silco was still glaring into the ground with a cold fire in his green-blue eyes. "Careful, glare too much and your face will stay like that. And you're too handsome to look like a grump all the time."

This finally caused the glare to slip from his features. Eyes wide, Silco gazed up at you with the tips of his ears reddening as your words registered, but you only rolled your eyes fondly, stepping behind him, hands settling on his shoulder to knead into stiff muscles.

"... I am not a grump."

"Not if you keep looking like that, you won't be." You assured him, looking out over the crowd, and not bothering to hide your smile at his huff. "Don't like parties?"

"Not a preference time-waster, no," Under your hands, you felt the man begin to relax, muscles loosening under your touch, and it wasn't long before he was leaning back into your grip in-earnest. "This one is becoming a far more remarkable experience."

"Because of the food?"

"Yes. And the caterer looks just as sweet."

Sly bastard, you were sure he was smirking as you ducked your head to hide your own blush.

For a moment despite his loathing and tenseness at the party atmosphere, and despite your obvious-outsider status among the deepest, most revolutionary part of the Lanes, you felt at ease. Which was a rare, too rare feeling these days. Enforcers were on the rise as much as the Children of Zaun were rising - business-searches had become more popular along the upper-levels near the harbor, not to mention random street-searches that made people more wary to walks the streets, even at daytime.

Down here, in the Lanes, you didn't see a scrap of the Piltover blue-gold of Enforcers, and it was a relief. The Entresol, and by extension the Lanes, had their own issues - you weren't sure when, or if you'd ever feel truly at-home in this level, but despite it all, you felt welcomed.

And when Silco's hand came up to cover your own, long fingers curling around your own to squeeze gently, you thought maybe just could feel at-home. Not necessarily here, but with him.

Maybe.

But then you felt another tensing beneath your palm, and you raised your gaze to look through the strings of patrons, Brothers and Sisters beyond, and you knew where his ice-lined gaze was fixed on.

Or rather, who.

"Want to talk about it?" You murmur softly, squeezing his shoulders when the young man didn't reply for a minute. "Silco?"

A moment paused, before, apologetically, but firmly, he squeezed your hand right back in reply.

Exhaling through your nose, you decided to let it go, reaching over to take a cookie for yourself to nibble on. You weren't here constantly, you couldn't know what sort of rift was built between the two... but you'd known them since childhood. And knew that, despite their moments of brilliance, Silco and Vander could just as often be dumb boys, brothers in all but blood - just as eager to build another up, as they are to tear each other down in a stupid, silly tussle between such brothers.

Lowering your head, you rested your chin atop of Silco's head with a sigh through your nose.

They were dense, but they'd figure it out and one way or another, there would be peace. You were sure of it, and with that thought, you ignore that small, anxious weight gathering inside of you...

Concern for Silco wasn't a new thing. It's how the two of you met - instead of letting out a shrill scream for an adult, to cast away the strange child robbing the pastry-shelves, concern for the fellow-child's too skinny frame had led you to grab a basket, and more rolls for a sufficient meal.

Years and years went by, and you didn't think your concern for the boy, then teen, then young man, now revolutionary, could ever cease.

You had so much concern for Silco, you didn't leave a speck of it left for yourself.

Hands numb, as you gather the next handful of shattered glass between your napkin-wrapped palms, you wonder if maybe this could have been avoided if you were a bit more concerned for yourself.

Your windows, shattered.

Kitchen, a complete disarray.

All the food brought to the ground, squashed spitefully under boot or simply left to rot in the form of stains and smears.

And a notice on the door, with Piltover's stamp clear to see.

A shard slips between the coverings on your hand, slicing at a finger, but your mind can only focus on the words you had read, still disbelieving even after seeing them with your own eyes.

Suspicion of rebellion connections. Warrant of search.

Deep down, you knew there would be sneers that you only endured a search, and not an interrogation. Oftentimes, along the harbor, Enforcers don't even bother with those, and simply jump straight to an arrest.

Lucky.

Depositing the next handful of glass into the bin, you want to laugh. Then cry, at how lucky you were.

Lucky that Vander finally convinced you to go to a Lanes party. Lucky that you accepted, and that the event had lasted long enough that you missed the Enforcers entirely, only coming back to the destruction they left behind.

Lucky that you convinced Silco to split up with you, before returning to your bakery - though, deep down, your luck had to run out at some point.

A shuffling of glass with his first slow steps into the building - there wasn't much point in using the door, with the window busted wide enough that one could just step in. And that's exactly what Silco does, slowly and carefully making his way over the frame that still holds a few jagged planes of glass, into your shop.

You can't look at him. Not even when he says your name.

The second-time Silco says it, it's sterner... not like Silco, but like a Son of Zaun.

"Did you check the building? Any left?"

Another handful of glass, deposited almost robotically into the bin beside you, before you shook your head. "No," You whisper, voice quiet, maybe little tight. "They... no one else is here."

It took another second, before Silco was beside you, kneeling in the glass. The urge to stop him,, to shoo him before he cut himself came far too late, and when your hand came up to push him from the mess, Silco was easily able to catch you by the wrist.

"You're bleeding," He said, simply. Plucking away the napkin acting as a pathetic excuse for gloves, Silco guides the hand closer to him for inspection, flashing the pad of his thumb over the fresh wound with all-gentleness. "There's no glass in there... let me go find-"

"No," You breathe, taking him with your other hand, and looking toward him, imploringly. His bright gaze flashes up to you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

The contest was broken by your blink, followed by another, rapider one, which acted as introduction to your small voice whispering in a single plea, "Don't leave me."

Don't leave me, when all I've known is left in ruins.

Don't leave me when I need you.

Don't leave me just for a stupid bandage.

Don't leave me.

You only say the last thought on your mind, a simple plea of three words. It doesn't say all of what you ask him for.

But Silco understands you. And as tears start rolling down your cheeks, hiccups sobs beginning to slip from your mouth with no hope of stifling them, he just pulls you into his arms.

Silco doesn't leave you. Not then.

That doesn't stop that dreadful weight from coiling inside you, still.

"I won't stand for this."

"They've dealt worst blows-"

"And I didn't stand any for those either, but this is too much. Too personal. Too close, Vander," Silco barely resembles humanity, with the way his lips are drawn back in a snarl, and  eyes the exact color of blue-fire.

It's a sight that would be so much more terrifying, if Silco and Vander weren't the one's covering in splashes of paint in the repainting the walls.

Benzo kept you company at the single table and chairs that had survived the Enforcer's search and raid - he also acted as your warden. A kind warden, one that offered you a drink from every so often from that bottle that recently seemed near-glued to his hand, but Janna-forbid you attempted to even stand.

"But-"

"Nope, y'gotta relax."

"Can you tell them that?" You gestured with a more properly wrapped-hand towards the other Brothers in question, who where nose to paint-splashed nose with each other.

"This, was far too close, Vander," Silco hissed again. "Next time it could be a supplier they hit. An informant, one of our insiders, and that risks the entire operation falling apart."

"It's not going to come to that!" Vander insisted in a scoff, but Silco, stubborn still, shook his head again. "It always comes to that. They'll never stop pushing us... not until we're back on our knees, or better for them, six more feet under."

Vander went to interrupt, but the wiry young man was quick to cut him off, dropping his brush back into the bucket - ignoring Vander's growl when some splattered over his boots in response - before picking up a sanding, getting work ridding the window framing of bumps.

Worrying at your lip - stopping before you could split the skin, again - you made a move to stand, and gave Benzo a sharp look when he reached for you, "Getting snacks," You murmured quietly, pulling the thick jacket tight around you during the travel to the kitchen-area, surrounded by a early spring-chill, and an colder atmosphere with Vander and Silco.

It was supposed to break soon, by rain. You hoped that with the passing storm, would also come the pass of whatever cold storm had brewed between the two Sons of Zaun.

You could hope, and, while they were here with you, you could distract.

"Here, you've guys earned the good stuff," You said upon your return, Benzo immediately leaning over to hog the first honey-bun, far sticker and sweeter than the kind that would be found Downtown. Vander took his just as fast, all but cramming it into his mouth - you were surprised, but the furious speed in which he moved, that he didn't punch his own teeth out.

Silco was stone-still. Staring at Vander, eyes wide, lips tight and bloodless, and looking more statue than man. Calling his name, even softly, didn't seem to help and when you placed your hand on his shoulder to rouse him, he only continued to stare at Vander in pure, utter...

No. You didn't even know the name for the expression on his face, but you found yourself glad it wasn't directed at you. You were horrified just to look at it - you had no idea how Vander hadn't dropped dead from the full-force of Silco's glare.

"... what did you just say?"

Vander ignored him, focusing on his work.

"Silco, what's wrong?" You ask, quietly, and wishing you hadn't left the room, if only to find out what happened. Hands hesitate at your side, before, you're reaching up to brush some splatters of paint from angular cheekbones but the taller man is stepping forward, teeth bared like fangs ready to sink into flesh. "Silco-"

"Think about peace?" His repeat of Vander's words are croaked, anger choking at his words as he glowered at Vander. "Think about... are you serious? You want to stop?"

"I don't want people getting hurt! She got hit, whose next, Sil??" Vander hissed right back with a head jerk towards you. "I can't... we can't keep taking 1these kinda risks. We have to pull back, just... take a breath, organize ourselves-"

"We pull back, they storm right on in. Don't be foolish, even taking a second to breathe with be a second long enough for then to demolish us. Do you want that?" Silco breezed past you, growing so close to Vander that it was honestly concerning. Glancing at Benzo, bewilderment and confusion clear on your face didn't help, as he seemed to be intent on committing every detail to his bottle to memory, while Silco continuing harshly underbreath. "Do you want them to take control from us? Take back everything we've worked for? Do you want it to all be for nothing?"

"I don't want to keep fighting for nothing!"

Vander, like thunder crashing and rolling, all growls with threats of a downpour. His eyes are a storm, fury... and a bit weary, from how long the tempest against Piltover has lasted.

Silco, lightning sharp and devastating - it takes a single strike to take one out, and he does so with four words, to the man you had always known to be his brother, before he turns, and all but flashes out the door, and out of sight from your shop.

"You are a coward."

You don't say anything. You can't, really - too shocked, you can only quietly set your plate down, swallow thickly, before stepping towards the door. But Benzo, staggering from his seat, stands to take you by the elbow as Vander passes you, stomping out the door like a dark-cloud.

"When has-?"

"That? Been a few weeks now, I reckon... Don' blame yourself, doll. They're thick, but they'll b thinnin' out soon 'nough..."

Benzo pauses, before false-cheer fills his voice with some joke about picking up where they left off. You don't quiet hear it, staring out the door where the other Sons of Zaun had both stormed out of.

There's a noise in your ears. Static, almost, to go along with the sudden, cold weight of dread lying at the bottom of your stomach...

It's a weight that grows heavier in the days that follow.

Heavier, and heavier, even as the world, in other ways, grow lighter. The burden of a broken bakery is lifted quickly - Benzo seemed far more at ease working there by himself, and it was looking like things could be back to business as-usual within a week, maybe less.

It didn't loosen the solid-lead weight of dread inside you, because despite Benzo's help, despite the shop being repaired and cleaned back to normal operations, despite... you don't like to think about why the Enforcer patrols, even intimidation has slowly began to diminish, but despite that, there's still a heavy-dread inside you.

It grows with every day, every day that Silco isn't there.

You try not to think about how he just... left. Walked out, didn't even say goodbye to you. You know his fight against Topside was bad. Stressful, and it was hard to remember, but all of you were far younger than most would believe, knowing what some of the Children of Zaun had accomplished.

Children of Zaun wasn't actually that far off, in some cases. You knew from the tailor down the way, his daughter had scurried further down not long ago to join the fight after another heated argument...

You dreaded to find out what Silco had done, after leaving suddenly from such a venomous exchange with Vander. Still, you tried to keep spirits up. Opening the shop again was a good start, Gods know there were plenty that relied on your food, and you were more than happy to roll up your sleeves, tie on your apron, and work. Work, create, batter and bake...

It's not nearly enough to quiet then storm outside. But it's not enough that, when Vander shoves the front-door open in the middle of your baking without you immediately noticing, you freeze with flour up to your elbows and a smear of fresh apple filling on your chin.

You've never known Vander to be quiet. Not even as children - that's why, after you startle and stare at him, absently wiping off hands as you take in his soaked-form, tangled damp hair, and bandaged arm, not saying a word...

That weight inside you drops.

"When?" You whisper, amazed you still have a voice left. All thoughts have seemed to stop otherwise, and only static fills your mind. "Where?"

Why?

"River. He... I..." His hand hovered over the bandage part of his arm, as if he's too disturbed to even touch it. Vander swallows, grey eyes on the ground, before he finally glances up to you. "I... couldn't find him. Afterwards... raining. T'much blood-"

Cuts himself off - none of the boys liked to give the gory details, but you could imagine. Enforcer guns, batons...

It never seemed possible that anything of mortal-creation could take out a man like Silco. But maybe that was just the grief talking, denial-stage already in full-swing.

Vander seems to be on the same boat, croaking out as he takes in your far, far too-still body at the news, "I... I shoulda... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," You say, numb with the lie. "I... it's okay, Vander. You did all you could."

Grey eyes squeeze shut, as if you personally struck a blow to him with your words. His hand comes down on his bandaged-wrapped are, gripping it tight enough that whatever wound lies beneath must sting at the painful pressure, but the Son of Zaun doesn't make a sound. Doesn't speak, Vander just... leaves.

Turns, walks out, and not even attempting a goodbye.

Vander leaves you, and for a moment, the only thing you can do is to turn back to the counter, gripping it with shaky-hands and staring numbly at... what was it? What was the world like, only moments ago, before you knew?

You don't remember, and you don't try to. Because that weight inside you was now all-around, pressing, breaking, crushing you...

It's crushing so hard that you can't speak, can't think.

You can only bring your flour-dusted hands to your face, cover your eyes, and cry.

Some weights, like that of dread and unknowing, has lightened. But it leaves you with a weight heavier than all the rest, and you would give anything, everything, to have the grief be a little less crushing then it is, leaving everything you know in ruins.