#there will always be someone to come home to and i won't feel the stifling pressure to perform romance for them

[justforyourlovee]

Synastry observations -1-

Paid readings :))

follow for more content!

+ If anyone wanna ask about a synastry aspect , comment it here and I will post it in next synastry observation Post , tyy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 his Lilith conjunct your sun :It’s over. Very intense! HAWT. This conjunction can make a married man leave his wife of 20 years. Powerful sexual energy. Karmic. This will mirror the dark energy of the man to himself.Can he see his own demons and welcome them with love? Or does he reject all parts of himself?How this goes is completely dependent on the man’s ability to love all parts of him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 their north node conjunct your sun :they light the way for your soul path this lifetime but won't be your comfort zone because it's nn so will be pushing you forward towards where your meant to be so you need to be mature enough to handle that energy because it involves responsibility and honesty with yourself.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Seventh house synastry:When someone has a lot of planets in your 7th house, you’ll feel a strong connection with them. You’ll enjoy their company, feel comfortable, and trust them. Whether you’re doing something fun or just relaxing together, it’ll feel good. This bond can affect your love life—you might be partners or close friends who help each other with relationships. You’ll just *get* what the other person needs when it comes to love.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Uranus square ascendant : this feels like  you're both trying to find a balance between staying true to yourselves and being open to new ideas and experiences. The Uranus person might push you to step out of your comfort zone, which can be exhilarating but also a bit unsettling.  I'm not saying it's a bad aspect but  let's say it's a friendship , you and your friend are always on the lookout for the next adventure, constantly pushing each other to try new things and explore new ideas. The Uranus person may bring a sense of freedom and liberation to the friendship, encouraging the Ascendant person to break free from routine and embrace change BUT this can lead to a dynamic and stimulating friendship, it can also create tension, especially if one person feels like the other is pushing them too far out of their comfort zone. AND if it's a romantic relationship this aspect in any type of relationship add excitement for sure whether it sometimes conjunct the MC ( excitement in you career) or the IC ( excitement in your home environment or in your emotions in general) but this aspect can lead to conflicts maybe a lot of conflicts , especially if one person feels like their need for independence is being stifled by the other. It's like trying to find a balance between being true to yourself and being part of a partnership. If not managed well, this aspect can lead to a relationship that feels chaotic and unstable, with both partners feeling like they're never on solid ground.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sun Moon Opposition : When the Sun is opposite the Moon in synastry, the Sun person often feels drawn to the Moon person. They admire how the Moon approaches life in their own unique way, and there’s a sense of respect for their emotional depth. The Sun, being creative and expressive, appreciates the Moon’s different perspective. Once the Moon feels safe and knows they won’t be overshadowed, these two can become really close—like best friends or partners who just *get* each other. It’s all about mutual respect and giving each other space to be themselves.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Lilith in the 10th house synastry: the Lilith person looks at the house person and thinks, "You’re going places."There’s admiration, but also this restless feeling like they need to  prove something or even challenge the house person’s success. Instead of lifting each other up, they might push against each other, sometimes out of jealousy, sometimes just to see what happens. The Lilith person might feel like the house person represents the **kind of power or recognition they secretly want which can create tension.

Buy me a coffee(tip)

____________________________________

[sosa2imagines]

Finding you again... Part 9

Warning- Fluff

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous.

Maybe it was because Bucky was taking you to meet everyone, his people, his family.

The Avengers.

And while you had been through worse, somehow, the idea of meeting them made your palms sweat.

Bucky must have noticed because, without a word, he reached for your hand. His fingers wrapped around yours, firm yet gentle, grounding you.

Bucky had assured you that they were good people, that they'd like you, but it didn't help to calm your nerves. As you walked alongside him, you couldn't help but feel like you were walking into the lion's den.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, casting a sidelong glance at you.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Just a bit nervous, that's all…”

Bucky gave you a reassuring grin. “They're gonna love you.”

You weren't entirely convinced, but before you could respond, the towering building of the Avengers compound loomed into view.

You looked up at him, and that’s when you saw it. The light pink dusting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing?

Before you could say anything, you arrived.

Steve was the first to greet you, his blue eyes warm as he smiled. “I remember you now,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

You returned the smile. “You too, Cap.”

Sam, of course, was the friendliest. He greeted you like an old friend, cracking jokes right away. “So, you’re the one who finally got Tin Man here to stop sulking all the time?”

You laughed, and that sound, your laugh made Bucky freeze. His grip on your hand loosened as he stared at you, completely mesmerized.

Steve, noticing, sighed and smacked Bucky’s shoulder. “Close your mouth, pal.”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

You glanced at Bucky, confused, but he quickly looked away, pretending like he hadn’t just been caught staring at you like you hung the stars.

Sam laughed. “Oh, he’s gone.”

Bucky's face reddened at the implication, his embarrassment only amplified by Sam's and Steve's teasing. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure, while you tried to stifle a smile.

Steve, always the responsible one, tried to cut through the tension. “Alright, enough. Bucky, show her around. Introduce her properly.”

Bucky nodded, his grip on your hand tightening as he led you through the compound. He introduced you to Wanda, who smiled politely and gave you a knowing look. Then to Natasha and Tony, who kept teasing you and Bucky, and then to Clint, who nodded gruffly and gave you a playful wink.

Bruce joined in after a while and surprised you with an offer. “I could use someone like you in my lab. Interested?”

Your eyes widened. “Me?”

Bruce chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Bucky told me some interesting things about you.”

He proceeded to recount the information Bucky had shared, how you had taken care of Bucky during his 'stay' with Hydra, how you had even attended to his wounds, stitched him up and kept him company when he was at his worst. Bruce smiled, his gaze shifting between you and Bucky. “And, perhaps not surprisingly, Bucky has a knack for being, shall we say... difficult. He needs someone who knows how to handle him, especially when he's being stubborn.”

You considered it before grinning. “Well, I was going to quit my job anyway. I can’t handle teenagers coming into the shop just to take selfies instead of drinking coffee.”

That made everyone laugh, even Bucky.

By the end of the day, you felt at home. These people Bucky’s family, welcomed you as one of their own.

And later, as you were leaving, something truly bizarre happened.

Bucky, yes, Bucky was singing.

Loudly.

“I've been meaning to tell you I've got this feeling that won't subside I look at you and I fantasize You're mine tonight...”

Sam turned his head so fast you thought he might get whiplash. “Oh no.”

Bucky, completely unaware, kept going.

“Now, I've got you in my sights with these hungry eyes One look at you and I can't disguise, I've got Hungry eyes I feel the magic between you and I…”

Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This man needs help.”

You just watched, a small smile playing on your lips, completely unaware that Bucky Barnes ‘the Winter Soldier’ himself was madly, hopelessly in love with you.

Later that day after you had left, Bucky sat on the couch, arms crossed, watching as Steve paced back and forth, listing out ideas.

“Alright, Buck, listen. Back in the day, if a man liked a woman, he’d write her a heartfelt letter. Maybe even a poem.”

Bucky groaned. “Steve, I’m not writing a damn poem.”

Steve ignored him. “Or you could take her to a nice dinner, someplace classy. Maybe even a ballroom dance?”

Bucky deadpanned. “You do realize it’s not the 40s anymore, right?”

Steve sighed. “I’m just saying, romance worked differently back then.”

Before Bucky could argue, Sam strolled in, a smug grin on his face. “Alright, listen up. I’ve got the perfect idea.”

Bucky already knew this was going to be stupid.

“You just walk up to her and demand to know if she loves you or not,” Sam said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Boom. Problem solved.”

Bucky stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s your plan?”

“Yep. Direct, simple, and gets you an answer fast.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sam, this isn’t a battlefield. You can’t just ambush her with feelings.”

“Why not?” Sam shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Bucky groaned and looked at Steve. “Why am I even listening to him?”

“You shouldn’t be,” Steve muttered.

Sam, thinking of another idea, chimed in. “What about a grand gesture? You know, something flashy like a public declaration of affection.”

Bucky shook his head vehemently. “I am not making a public spectacle out of this.”

Just then, Natasha and Wanda entered the room, clearly having heard the conversation. Natasha rolled her eyes at the three of them. “Men are idiots!” she said, shaking her head.

Wanda smirked. “Especially these ones.”

Bucky turned to them, desperate. “You got any better ideas?”

Natasha arched a brow. “First of all, stop overthinking it. She already likes you.”

Bucky blinked. “She does?”

Wanda chuckled. “Oh, wow, you’re clueless.”

Natasha smirked. “Just spend time with her, Buck. Show her that she’s important to you. Let her see that you care. That’s all you need to do.”

Wanda nodded. “And don’t demand anything like Sam suggested.”

Sam scoffed. “Y’all don’t see the genius in my plan.”

Bucky ignored him.

For the first time in hours, he felt like he had a real plan. He didn’t need fancy letters or some grand gesture. He just needed to show you that you mattered to him.

And he would.

Part 8- Part 10

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt @sebastians-love

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt @baw1066 @leviackerman2030 @chaestwbryz @eugene-emt-roe @chuiisi @fckwritersblock @chocolatereignz @danzer8705

@peaches1958 @sebbymybaby21 @ghalouha

[rottenpumpkin13]

somehow, someway, pre-nibel sephi is sent to nibelheim like a month before he's conceived and finds younger vincent and lucrecia. what happens?

Sephiroth wakes up to discomfort, that much is certain. The hard earth presses against his spine, wayward blades of grass prickling his skin, pieces of silver hair either scattered in disarray across the dew-dampened ground or splayed across his damp chest.

His limbs all but stifle their own screams with each difficult movement, as if he'd been dropped from a considerable height. The last fragments of memory parade through his consciousness as though mocking his current state—a night spent with Genesis, drowning in too much Dumbapple wine. Genesis confessed how he habitually made wishes in that liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, hoping one might come true in reality. Sephiroth doesn't remember the moment hypnogogia morphed into sleep, but he does recall indulging in wishes.

A cacophony of sounds, alive and grounding, pierce through his hazy awareness; the burbling water of a nearby river, the cheerful din of morning birds, the rustle of wind and leaves. He can smell moss infusing the crisp air, and then—

"But where did he come from?" A man's voice, firm but gentle in its delivery. Sephiroth knows instinctively that the delicate fingers checking his pulse cannot belong to this speaker.

"He could've washed up from the river," suggests a woman's voice—her touch, now that must be hers; soft and assured as his senses gradually reassemble themselves.

"No, he's completely dry," the man counters. "Perhaps he's from the village. Took ill during a morning constitutional."

"I've never seen him in the village, and trust me—" there's a hint of wry amusement in the woman's tone "—we would have noticed someone like him." At that, Sephiroth feels her fingers gently carding his hair.

The man huffs before launching into a catalogue that makes Sephiroth's lips twitch. "Silver hair, approximately six-foot-five, male, early to mid-twenties."

"He's in uniform," the woman observes. "Oh, the poor thing's shivering."

"We should return to the manor and alert someone."

"No."

"Lucy—"

"Vincent, if we take him back there, he won't come out."

There's a pause, heavier than Sephiroth's headache, before the man concludes with a resigned sigh. "Don't I know it."

Sephiroth shifts uncomfortably, attempting to pry open one rebellious eyelid. The morning light seeps through his vision, drawing forth an involuntary hiss as the sunlight assaults it. His movement startles the couple, and suddenly four hands are steadying him, grounding him in place. He finds himself unconsciously leaning into their touch, their continued conversation fading beneath the surge of remembered wishes from the night before.

Sephiroth had always treated hopes and dreams like precious artifacts in a museum; beautiful to observe but never to possess. He had wished for home, for peace, for belonging, for the simple miracle of normalcy. His last coherent thought before sleep claimed him had been achingly simple: a life where he wasn't anyone's weapon, where he had grown up surrounded by nature rather than steel walls, where two parents showed him what unconditional love meant. But Sephiroth was no naive child casting wishes to the stars—merely a pragmatic day-dreamer.

But when he finally manages to open his eyes and finds himself with the concerned faces of Lucrecia and Vincent looking down at him, he knows with absolute certainty that this is no dream.

Lucrecia smiles as she cups his cheek with a tenderness she has no idea is maternal. "It's okay," she murmurs, "we've got you now."

[prettybean]

KEEGAN (+18)

“We didn't get the dessert”

Car sex, degrading, dirty talk, rough Keegan!

* I had to do it

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Keegan is the best boyfriend ever: he never lets you miss out on anything and always satisfies you in every possible way. Every Saturday, he takes you to a different restaurant, and by now, you've tried them all. But each time, it's even more amazing than the last. He’s a gentleman.

He arrives to pick you up in his car. You still can't figure out how he managed to get his license, but you don't want to tell him he's a terrible driver. You just hope to make it through the entire trip alive.

He surprises you with a bouquet of fresh roses, opens the car door for you, and insists on paying for dinner. His gallantry makes you fall in love with him all over again. You've tried to at least split the bill a few times, but he's more stubborn than you and won't let you.

"Love, did you enjoy your meal?" he asked as he hopped into the car, exiting the parking lot and heading towards your home. "It was absolutely delicious," you replied, and he grinned at you, placing his hand on your leg and moving it back and forth.

"I'm sorry we didn't get the dessert," he said, suddenly changing course and taking a more secluded route with less lighting. You felt his hand move up your inner thigh, his fingers squeezing the soft skin. "Where are we going?" you asked. "To have my dessert," he replied with a chuckle, his hand making its way towards your panty-covered area, tracing circles on it.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Keegan says chuckling, while you moaned as you wrapped your legs around his hand, holding onto his wrist as you rubbed yourself against it. "If you make a mess, you'll have to clean it up with your tongue, got it?" he growled in a demanding tone.

He always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. When he was turned on, he became a different person. "Good girl, keep making those noises," he whispered as he slipped his fingers into your panties, teasing your dripping entrance. You gasped and covered your mouth to stifle your moans, while he kept his eyes on the road, moving his fingers in and out quickly.

“God, look at you. You're getting touched in the car like a whore. That’s fucking pathetic."

His words made your pussy clench on his fingers, noticing how the bulge in his pants is becoming more and more noticeable. “Keegan, stop here please.” “No bitch, I decide when we stop. You can stay still and quiet like the good pet you are."

You whimpered, grinding your pussy on his hand, getting the whole seat wet.

He switched off the car, readjusting the seat and lowering it. "Come over here," he commanded, gesturing towards his lap, lifting your trembling legs for you to sit on him. Your body pressed against his bulge, and you couldn't resist moving against it, letting out soft moans against his lips. Keegan gently kissed you, sensing your desperation for him and hearing every moan that escaped your lips.

"Do you want my cock?" he asked, pulling your lower lip between his teeth, and you nodded eagerly.

“Mine or someone else's?" Keegan asked, pulling down his pants slightly, stroking his cock with his hand, and resting it against your entrance. "Yours," you replied, settling on top of him, sliding his length between your folds.

“Can't you resist anymore? You're literally pushing your pussy against my cock, you're a greedy whore. Say it." He looks into your eyes, squeezing your hips, making you ride his dick. "I said, say it".

Moans leave your lips, feeling how his length fills you up nicely, pushing against your sweet spot.

“I-I'm.. your whore.” You tried to repeat his words, holding onto his shoulders.

Keegan thrust into you with force, making you moan loudly. "You were craving this, weren't you? You wanted me to fuck you from the moment you walked in the door." You nodded, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as he whispered in your ear. "You're such a good little slut, waiting for your reward. Do you want me to cum inside you? Do you want me to fill your pussy?" You screamed in ecstasy, your body trembling with pleasure, riding him hard and moaning his name over and over again.

"Yes, just like that," he said, teasing you with his hand on your folds, enjoying the mess you’ve made, coming all over him.

You attempted to shift, but your body was overly sensitive, causing discomfort in your intimate area, too much overstimulated. Your legs trembled, and you struggled to catch your breath. Keegan took the lead, pressing himself against you, intensifying the sensation within you.

He smiled evilly at you, smacking your ass hard;

"Where do you think you're going? You will get fucked until I say so, got it? Now, take my cock and let me use you."

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 0

CW: Hospice Care/Deathbed

(It's been years since you were all last together. The days of you traveling together had long passed, and now your lives had all settled into their own places. You and Isa were now married and had moved in together in Jouvente, where you often helped Isa at his wonderful little Tailor shop. Mirabelle had moved to Bambouche with Bonnie and Nille to open her own House of Change and spread the gift of her belief with all those who would like to accept it, and finally Odile... a world renowned professor on the theory of craft and its various applications... and one we would soon lose as she laid on her deathbed.)

(It's nice to see everyone again after so long, though the circumstances in which you find yourselves does make it a bit awkward. You all sit silently in the somewhat familiar living room of the famed researcher, who was spending her last days at home in hospice care, other than Bonnie and Nille, the former of which frantically working in the kitchen as the latter supervised. Bonnie never broke the habit of trying to solve everything with snack time, though to their credit it did work a good portion of the time.)

(After what feels like an eternity of waiting, no one even knowing where to begin with what to say, just waiting on the doctor to give the go ahead, they finally exit her room and approach our gathered little family.)

"She's ready to see you all now." (They say, with a trained, soft tone, the voice of someone who cares but sees this far too often to let themselves care too much... as if acting in a play, you think to yourself almost nostalgically...)

(As the other two are collected and you all crowd into the room, stifled sobs and gasps fill the air, seeing the once so well kept and excellently postured researcher of your group, reduced to such a fragile state.)

"Gems alive, you all need to work on your poker faces." (She rasps out in her weakened state in a light hearted manner, still proving to be the most mentally hearty, even in the face of this.)

"Sorry M'dame Odile, it's just hard to see you without a ruler in your hand, shouting at kids to get off your lawn." (Isa chimes in through his uneasy voice, trying not to choke up as he speaks. Despite being such a big loveable oaf, he was always the softest out of all of us.)

"And you, our own little head housemaiden, I know that look, and don't even try it... there's nothing to heal, nothing to fix... it's simply my time." (Odile said, shocking Mirabelle out of her thought spiral. Even in her final moments she was still better at reading us all than ourselves, and just as blunt in spite of that.)

"I-I made your favorite, Dile." (Bonnie stammers out, fighting back a wave of tears as they hold up a plate of Onigiri filled with pickled plums, as fresh as can be. We all know she won't be able to have any, but the gesture alone was enough to bring a bright, genuine smile to Odile's face.)

"Oh Boniface... come here dear." (Bonnie almost moved faster than could be seen to the naked eye, burying their face into Odile's body as they gripped her in such a careful but loving hug, unable to stop from sobbing now while their grandmother figure just rests her pruned and shaking hands on their back.)

"Well... you must be simply dying to chime in with some horrid pun by now." (You find your eyes locked with hers suddenly as her words rolled out towards you, almost feeling like a deer in headlights since you always did prefer the background after all.)

(You must have something for this, you can't miss your moment in such a grim time.)

          "I'm too lost in regret for never figuring out your top secret research topic."

          > "Simply dying huh?"

          "Just desperately trying to figure out how to start looping again."

"Oh dear, it seems your incessant word play has rubbed off on me, the horror." (She teased in her familiar dry way, though it's still a nice moment as you both share a half smile, leaving the rest unspoken, as there was no need to say it aloud, you both already knew all there was to say.)

(You find yourself tuning out for most of the rest of this, after all, you had your moment already, and it was all the both of you needed, everyone else could have theirs now.)

(You don't know how much time has passed, but a harsh cough suddenly snaps you out of it. Odile rasps sharply for as much air as her failing lungs could manage, sighing it back out as she takes a moment to collect herself.) 

"... It's time... No looping our way out of this one, huh Siffrin?" (She tries to smile, but she was too weak to hold it for long. You return one in kind as you feel a tear start to pour down your cheek, almost wishing you could still at this point. You simply walk beside her and take her hand, Bonnie and Mirabelle having taken the other already and gripping it as firm as can be without causing her pain, Isabeau soon joining and taking both your and her hand in his own massive one.) 

(Time slows, each second getting longer than the last, Odile's eyelids getting heavier and lower, it only takes a few moment, but we were all there, holding on tight, lost in an endless, painful moment, a sharp pain through your heart as you lose one of your closest family members... when you start to feel a... tug... on your... sto-)

"FRIIIIIN! FRIIIIN WAKE UP! WE DID IT! IT'S TOMORROW! NO MORE KING! NO MORE LOOPS! WE CAN GO GET MY SISTER NOW!!"

[zyu1sm]

THE WAY THINGS GO // 0. PROLOGUE

how it went...

Looking around for a more secluded area, you catch the glimpse of one of your friends, Yanfei, getting rather intimate with a brunette girl. In another corner, Ajax is chatting a random freshman up. Typically. Meanwhile, earlier, an intoxicated Kaveh left, being picked up by his roommate who you assumed was his lover. You sigh. Even in a sea filled with gleeful people around you, loneliness never failed to loom over your figure from time to time. Surrounded by lovers, alienated by reclusion.

Hope is strong, you think. You hope that one day, you could also experience what it would be like to ditch a friend at a party to spend time with the person you love. To hold hands under a table, maybe whisper things into each other's ears, knowing that no one else is able to enter your small world but you two. You hope that -

Buzz Buzz

Your mood has never switched faster.

"Hello?" You gulp, trying to make your voice sound better than usual. Less awkward.

"Hey, beautiful."

The familiar voice put a smile on your lips. You could almost see him smirk from just hearing him.

"You really weren't joking when you said the party was noisy. Damn."

"Told you. I'm looking for a quiet place right now, wait a bit."

"Take your time. Don't wander too far from the venue, alright?"

You hum in response. As you venture further, you treat Heizou's constant jabbering as an anchor. His smooth voice grounding you.

"Heizou? Can you hear me properly now?"

"Much better. I can't believe they're blasting, like, fucking Ice Spice in there. Some shitty music taste Childe has. They look alike, too."

"That is so mean!"

"It's true, though!" You can hear him yawn from his end.

"I won't fight you there. Anyways, how's your night going?"

"Eh. Dull. I missed you."

It's moments like these where you find your heart beating faster than you thought possible.

"Who wouldn't?"

You hear him scoff. "Yeah, yeah, smartass. You don't miss me one bit? Cold."

"You're being dramatic." You stifle a chuckle.

"And you're being heartless."

You always thought that your sister smiling, well - smirking - over her girlfriend's text messages, a mere bubble on a screen, was ridiculous and weird. And now - Miko's smile could never parallel yours right now.

"And how's your night going?"

"It was fun at first, you know, oh, and I convinced Yanfei to talk to her crush!"

"Well, I'm glad you were having fun." He chuckles. "You feel drained yet?"

"Very. I wanna go home so bad but I worry about my friends."

He sighs. "They're adults now. You should do what you want, and it's clear to me that you're very tired right now. Don't force yourself."

"I know. And it really is fine. I'm not that tired, just a bit overstimmulated."

He huffs. "Stubborn ass."

"Says you."

A lazy chuckle can be heard from his end accompanied by a yawn.

"Aw, someone's sleepy."

"Yeah, well, I had to finish 2 reports today. My gosh, I'm such a good student." He chuckles. "A role model, even. Instead of partying, I'm being a responsible student. You know, [Name], you should really be more like me."

"Uh-huh... yeah, funny, everyone should totally be like you."

"Right?"

"Anyway, you should go rest, then, if you're sleepy."

"But I wanna keep talking to you." You could almost hear the pout in his voice. "Don't end call yet, please?"

"Heizou..."

"Come on, I said please."

"Fine." You sigh.

"See? You really are into me."

A notification from Kokomi popped up on your phone. It was an attachment of Yanfei chugging down a bottle of Bourbon Whiskey. 'Need help, girly's wasted af💀' It seems as though your small moment with Heizou was short-lived. "Zou, I'm ending the call now."

"Wait- no! I'm joking!" He snickered.

"No, seriously, Kokomi just texted me saying Yanfei is wasted. I'll-"

"Not yet... Don't disconnect."

You contemplated. But oh, how your heart soared, its constant yearning felt satisfied when you heard the hint of despair in his voice, as if he would lose all sense of direction if you ended the call.

"You're very persuasive."

"I'm aware." His tone was dripping of amusement. "And you're just very easily swayed."

"I'm being considerate!" You huff. "I won't end the call."

"Really? I'm glad. Take care in the meanwhile, yeah? I'll be waiting, idiot."

"Yeah. You too, Heizou..."

Oh, how strong your hope was.

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝ ͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝

૮₍'˶• . •⑅₎ა ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ prev // masterlist !! // next

A/N: Is this too long for a chapter? Pls do comment your thoughts or suggestions or if you think I should improve on something. Im kinda mediocre in writing🥹 I FEEL LIKE THE PACING IS GONNA BE SO SLOW AHHH

? SYNOPSIS Shikanoin Heizou was perfect. Understanding, charming, smart, patient, sweet - what more could a girl want? Except for maybe the fact that he was planning on getting back together with his ex girlfriend the same time he was entertaining you. Big yikes !! He cut you off without saying a word and then, before you knew it, boom - he's back together with his "ex." That was that. That was it. Done. Finished.

The end.

But with the right amount of overexaggerated moping and unintentional manifestations, fate might play along. Who knows?

@ TAGLIST !! (open) @19909

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

always a god never human II satoru gojo

tags: post shibuya au, alt au where satoru is cursed to be blind, fluff, argument, angst, regret

word count: 4.5k

note: I wanted to write something that could encapsulate what being human is for satoru in the best worst case scenario. some of you might love this as I do, and thank you for your support. also, I made a reference to odysseus and the cyclops so I think I got it right (I haven't read the odyssey in nearly 10 years). also forgive me and please correct me if I got the kikufuku part wrong. will make a part two if this comes out well (I already have it drafted).

satoru gojo had been exposed to curses for as long as he could remember. first, as a boy, then as a student in jujutsu tech, and finally as a friend and instructor to those around him; but he had never been directly cursed.

not until now.

"you may remain as the strongest, satoru gojo, but your strength will be the only thing to hold you. no one but yourself will disinter it, so don't waste your time searching for something already set as destined." he recalled.

"love will be your salvation yet damnation, for you will cry for your shortcomings and failures. no one but you will carry this burden. let it remind you of this day, of the battle in which you never, truly won."

he always wakes up in a cold sweat afterwards. with the erratic beating of his heart and the tears running down his cheeks, satoru clings to himself, pressing a hand to his heart so as to remind himself of his current position. the back of his throat feels rough like sandpaper, and he licks his lips before reaching for the glass of water he's reserved for nights like these.

he drinks nearly all of it, his heart heavy before his fingers fish for his phone by his bedside.

"hey siri," he speaks, voice hoarse, "what time is it?"

"it's 3:24am."

with an exhaled huff, he puts his phone to the side, making note to remember where it is in the morning. as he lays his head down and focuses on the feeling of blood rushing to his fingertips, arms laid out side by side and fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs.

tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, but it has to change, whispers the other.

"now listen, don't give me that look, it's serious!" your frown causes utahime, your longtime friend of 4 years to shake her hands out to grab your attention, causing you to stifle a smile from your face as you hide your lips behind your cup of tea. "I have a job proposal for you, from a friend. and I think you'd like the pay."

utahime had always been sensible on the topic of money. knowing your constant struggles as a college student and now graduate, seeking to find new sources of income to keep up with bills and student loans, the sorceress felt compassion for you, a friend of hers who has grounded and guided her through frustration after frustration; work and romance related. she's never had the luxury of normalcy to a life like yours, she knows, so doing this was in her best interest for your benefit.

she tells you she has a friend who has decided to take up reading. problem is, he's blind.

"he's not a child, though he acts like it sometimes, but he's not some prune old man either. he's around your age so I'm sure talking to him along with your patience won't be an issue."

besides the generous pay for your time, 6 hours a week for $500 as a starting salary, there was something about this arrangement that left you with a good feeling in your heart. and it wasn't because your client was blind, no. it was the sheer opportunity for growth, in doing something you loved and doing something someone wanted to partake in. so on the day of your arrival you dress your best, hair neatly combed with a pearl diadem and academia as your outfit inspiration for the occasion. "he lives in a secluded home," you recall utahime's words, "up on a hill, or cliff. I don't know. it's always cloudy over there," and you can make out the home on the hill. it's quaint, and you feel thankful for having picked the clothes adequate for the weather.

it surely looked like it was going to rain, so you quicken your pace until you're at the front door, standing still as you swallow the lump at the back of your throat. you were no psychic, but the way your heart churned and palpitated let you know something was about to change your life forever.

"you must be the girl utahime sent, I'm satoru. please step inside," you absentmindedly take in the smile he gives you, taking no answer from you before he opens the door to let you in. he wears a pair of black glasses, contrasting to his snowy hair and porcelain skin. wearing casual loungewear neither of you dare to touch one another in the sense of exchanging a handshake out of respect, or fear. it all feels formal, too formal as if this were a job interview or more.

"it's quite cold outside, isn't it?" after you step inside and change into a pair of slippers that are slightly too big for you, satoru shows you to where you would read to him.

he makes conversation rather well, you find, but there is slight awkwardness in the interactions but not in the way he moves around the house. as he moves up the stairs, he has a hand against the wall as he takes each step with precision, knowing when and where to step. you're fairly quiet, but polite in your conversation with him, until you reach the space he calls his 'study' which is just a room with a large window accompanied by books and belongings.

"you're probably wondering how on earth a blind guy has a clean place, right? well to answer your question, housekeeping."

"I wasn't thinking about that," you answer softly biting the inside of your cheek, "I was just admiring the window."

there's a momentary silence between the two of you. either satoru is surprised by your reply, unrelated to his blindness, or you have struck a sensitive chord, however, his nod makes you think otherwise.

"it is. before I was blind, I'd come here as a teen. house is mine, so even the doors are nice in here." and when he hears you agree, he smiles. "anyways, I'm sure utahime told you the basics about this, yeah?"

"yes."

"great. there's a book on that table to your right. you can start reading that one." as he walks, he takes a seat on a chair across from you. he patiently waits until you sit down again to ask, "before we start, would you like some water?"

"yeah," you breathe, "that'd be great actually."

"there's a few water bottles under the table next to you," he informs, making himself comfortable on the chair, limbs spreading comfortably as you take out a water bottle and glance at the book in your lap.

"this book is about malaysia," you read the title, "is that somewhere you'd like to visit one day?"

"maybe," he says, "it was from a friend of mine."

"did he go to malaysia?"

there's a long silence in between the innocence your question and his answer.

"he did," he answers slowly. "it was always a dream of his to go, so that's why I've kept the book." you don't press him further, instead nodding and suggesting on starting.

when you open the book, you don't miss the elegant cursive writing at the top right of the page.

n. kento

you frequent satoru's home every monday, wednesday, and friday for 3 hours every day. the pay is more than what you expect the first week, $750, but you wonder how this man can easily afford your services.

the bigger question, is how can he live alone in such a home like that? does he ever get hurt? what does he do then?

"yeah, I live here by myself." he answers your question on the third week of your employment. "it's pretty neat though. I don't have to worry about anyone misplacing anything I leave, you know?" his attempt at a joke makes you chuckle and walk up the steps behind him to his study. "are we reading something new today?"

"there's something different I want to try," he tells you, "last night, on the news, I heard there was a feud over some meso-american statue. something to do with jade material being one of the few in existence. I know this is beyond what we agreed, but do you think you can find an article on it?" you nod, affirming his request.

"great!" he smiles, relieved, "my laptop is on the desk. feel free to use it."

you wanted to say that was the last time he asked you for a favor like that, but it was you who fueled his interest. that day, you ended up finding 4 articles, and playing 2 videos about the subject. and as a result, both you and satoru engaged in related conversation until the end of your assigned time.

every few days, satoru would inform you on something (practically asking) and you'd reply by responding, researching the questions he ached to know. it went such way that you were reading him books less and less and more article, media coverage, and conversation.

"did you hear about the experiment trials being conducted by this company called oceangate?" satoru asks, interest laced in his voice, "they're thinking about sending people to view the titanic shipwreck."

and quickly enough, so were you.

"yeah, I also heard about it. I couldn't help but read an article about it. apparently, they've done a few trials, but the company is independent, so I don't know how safe it is or if they have government members involved..."

one of satoru's favorite moments consist of the following.

"did you hear about the crime case that just happened last week? the one with the girl who survived the car accident."

"I did!" you answer eagerly, "I heard her stepdad was the last person to talk to her boyfriend."

"do you think he murdered him?"

"it's tough to say," you bite your bottom lip in contemplation, "I knew he didn't approve of him because he was an aspiring musician, but these texts came out saying he wrote to his brother, 'that man better stay away from my daughter or else I don't know what I'll do',""

"no way."

"and that's not even the worst part," you adjust yourself on your seat, criss cross applesauce. "they found dna remains in his car before his death, hair. right before the car accident. there's speculation they argued before..."

"the accident." satoru nods.

as the weeks progressed, so did your conversations with satoru. the two of you had a knack for being adaptable in your interactions with one another. you could reach a book for an hour, then talk about some recent story or just spend a whole session talking, with the mention of an article or some source always being mentioned.

and satoru burned for that. with every interaction, he found himself looking forward to what else he could bring up, and so did you, even spending time of your own researching things he might be interested in learning about.

things the both of you turned out interested learning about.

"here," satoru could feel the warmth emanate from your body (or his) as you sat next to him, your body scooting closer to his, "hold your hands, yeah, like that," placing a small statue, no bigger than the size of a wine bottle, satoru freezes slightly as you guide his fingers to glide along the edges of the statue.

"my friend managed to get this one out of the archives," you explain, "of course, I just had to bring this to you too. can you sense the material?" the corner of satoru's lips tug upwards in acknowledgement of your excitement. it makes his heart squeeze and pulse in ways that felt familiarly unfamiliar. in a good way, of course. everything you brought in his life was good. whether he could see it or not, you were always so welcoming and sweet.

"is this... legal?" he out of everyone finds himself whispering. as if the authorities could be outside his door. you giggle.

"yes," you smile, "I asked my friend if she could let me borrow this for the day, to take 'pictures'." you chuckle, "obviously that's not what we're doing, is it?" a warmth follows satoru's cheeks as he shakes his head and you smile. "this mesoamerican statue is the same material as the one we read the other week, remember?"

we, satoru's words echo in his head as he nods. "y-yeah. thank you for doing this, you know."

"of course," you smile kindly, "I figured, out of everyone who could be here, I figured you deserve this."

deserve.

"open your hands for me, satoru." your soft voice speaks as you cup his hands, the ocean waves crash from afar. after much convincing, you managed to pull satoru out of his comfort zone. what's the point of going to the ocean if I can't see it? he asks.

well, what's the point of me reading to you and us interacting if you can't see me? you counter. and he realizes you've won.

he can smell the saltwater, can feel the wind blow through his hair and let his feet sink into the sand, but that's not what makes his heart skip a beat. your hands shouldn't feel this soft, he thinks. the way you allow grains of sand to fall in his hands feel otherworldly, holy. the way he senses you smile at him and place a shell on his palm, letting him trace the surface with his finger as you guide him makes him feel as the most enlightened man alive.

he can sense you're close, not by strands of your hair slapping his cheek as the wind blows, but by the warmth of your body. suddenly, he does not feel he is at the beach, but with the beach guiding her hands with his and feeling the warmth of what he feels is your smile.

he remains silent, you're looking at him, and he's looking at you underneath his shades. he's frozen. waiting for you to say something, to break this off as if this would never, by any of his wildest dreams, occur in any universe.

but you don't.

satoru feels his pulse quicken, breathing deepen as the point of your feet slot themselves to his, your nose barely brushes his own, causing the six eyed user to forget everything he once thought he knew of limits and boundaries. kiss me, he thinks, take me, he begs to the heavens. satoru thinks he could be captivated, deeper than any spell odysseus and his men were under at sea, but they were cursed by calypso's beauty, and he felt blessed by the touch of an angel. your touch enviable to the gods above.

when you kiss him, he feels like he just made the greatest discovery to mankind, like he's waited his whole life for this, a feeling that greatly surpasses galileo's lifelong accomplishments and napoleon's combined. no feeling, word, or sight could transcribe what it feels to have your lips slide through his, to have you softly gasp against his lips, and to have your body close to his. satoru is convinced that he has reborn, become whole by the touch of your lips which have sweetly imprinted themselves throughout everything he is.

he holds the back of your neck gently, so as to remind himself that you are here, not a dream but here with him. flesh against flesh, man and woman who share one breath.

when you both pull away, satoru feels himself begging to pull you closer, but the hands that push him from you let him know you need to breathe. and although his body cries otherwise, you speak breathlessly, a hint of a smile in your tone, "did you feel that shell? it was my favorite kind to collect growing up," and he smiles because he learns what it is to collect something as valuable as the shells, your lips.

with nearly 3 months of knowing you, there was a shift in satoru's chest one wednesday morning as you excused yourself for a call.

"...of course I don't! you think I want to live with him?" you ask, voice laced with disgust, "I won't be tied down like that again and you know it, Kiro. I'll be cursed if I have to be with someone like him again. you know I'd never stay for someone like that. It's dead weight on my shoulders, and I won't have anything but pity on him." your words, from the end of the hallway send daggers at satoru's heart.

"yes, I'm at work, what else do you want me to do? It's not like I can just fly my way to you in such a short amount of time. you should have told me..." a long pause, "yes... he's blind," another long pause, "I get paid on the 26th, but my boss won't let me work on the 25th, so you can sleep in my bed while I get home. and wear something under the covers, okay?" somewhere, somehow satoru wanted to tell himself he was not hearing things correctly, that you were still the same girl he knew to be around, but when you returned after your call, something was definitely wrong with you.

"so, how was you call?" he asks, feigning interest, "everything ok?"

"yeah, fine, thanks." you breathe, tired, opening the book in your hands, "chapter 21, the last spring."

one week later.

as much as he wanted to deny it, satoru was beginning to think you had changed. what was it? was it him? the kiss? the way he grabbed you? or have you finally had enough of these little visits that could have been masked as pity for a young man like him?

when the 26th passes, he does not ask what your plans are. as much as he wants to ask, he thinks it's not of his place to ask. is he doing the right thing? he doesn't know. it certainly doesn't ease the unpleasant feeling bubbling in his stomach.

"do you have a favorite treat?" you ask. caught off guard, he nods.

"kikufuku," he tells you, "when I was in high school, there was this elderly couple that had a kikufuku stand and they used to have the best ice cream fillings."

"I thought kikufuku was cream based?"

"It was, but not to them. their ice cream filling was one of a kind."

"when was the last time you had some?"

he laughs, "years ago. I'm pretty sure they ended up closing because the wife died, and she was the only living relative who knew how to make it."

"that's too bad."

"I know, but at least they were happy doing what they did." satoru then changes the subject, shifting the focus to a lighter topic.

on december 6th, satoru recieves a call.

"I told you, you don't have to call me sensei anymore," satoru groans, throwing a wooden sword towards yuuta, catching it flawlessly.

"why not? you've always been my sensei. or would you rather us call eachother cousins?"

"you're right," answered satoru adter a long moment, earning a laugh from his former student. "so what was it you wanted to talk about? clearly it was not to train, so what is it?"

"I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"well you could've just called..."

"you haven't trained with us in a while," yuuta sighs, "everyone. we don't really know what you're up to these days."

and he was right, but satoru would never admit it.

"what?" he asks, almost faking offense, "can't your sensei go on vacat-"

"-utahime sensei says you've been in your home a lot," he clarifies, "only few of us know. toge, panda, yuuji and I."

"what about megumi?"

"he's kind of in his own world," yuuta sighs, placing his weapon down before taking a seat next to gojo in the training room. "he knows things haven't been easy."

"you've kept an eye on him and yuuji like I asked, right?''

"to a degree," he admits, "I can't have them open up so freely because I'll always be their upperclassmen, but you... you're..."

"I get what you're trying to say." he answers flatly.

"you do?"

he nods.

"can I walk with you to your home?" yuuta asks, "there's another thing I'd like to ask, personally this time."

satoru finds himself agreeing with his younger student, what else could he do besides that? as the two walk, satoru finds himself giving advice he didn't think he could give, advising the student on what shall become of him now that he's already over age and in his own right to choose his destiny.

as he advises his pupil, satoru finds himself wondering the same for himself. he's turning a year older in 2 more days, what will become of him? what will he do? what does this mean in relation to kenjaku's damned curse? it aggravated him. upset him how everything felt so secure, almost ideal weeks ago, but now his life felt back in square one, returning to his home that he had grown used to be alo-

"surprise!"

not one, nor two, but several familiar voices called from the inside of his open, making satoru freeze in shock.

"surprise! we thought we'd surprise you sensei" panda's voice rang.

"he's right!" another voice, yuuji's appears, "we thought about making a little get together with our favorite sensei..."

"obviously someone had to plan this," satoru turned, stunned when shoko's voice came into play. "you?"

"no," she chuckles, turning to you but you quickly shake your head, reaching for utahime, "it was utahime!" you call, "she wanted to plan something nice for you."

"aww well aren't you sweet?" he grins tauntingly at utahime who can't help but send daggers your way as shoko muffles her laugh.

for the duration of the party, satoru is accompanied by his co-workers, friends, and students. he hears more about what they've done. what travels they have accomplished, and what romances some of them have experienced all while they share laughs. all while satoru searches for yours.

you stand a respectable distance away from him, deciding it would be best to let his friends and students take over since he hasn't seen them in so long. you weren't as special as they were, only having known satoru for the least amount of time, a part of you felt like a stranger. not that anyone made you feel left out, no. everyone was kind to you and even appreciative for your presence. however, you spent a whole majority of the party not talking to satoru, as if you weren't there.

when it came time to cut the cake, everyone who was an adult was nearly drunk. the students, all joyously supervised by ichiji laughed as they shared a group photo. yuuji, satoru's student mentioned something about adding the photo as his lockscreen, causing everyone to burst out laughing from ichiji's protests. everyone looked happy, with a twinkle in their eyes as the end to the party came to an end.

the students and ichiji were the first to leave, then shoko and utahime finding balance in one another, leaving you alone with satoru in his home.

"you didn't drink, huh."

"I don't really drink in social events." you shyly admit, scratching the back of your neck as satoru does not face you, looking towards the door where utahime and shoko left not long ago.

"you thought you were social?" his words take you by surprise.

"I, um.... I talked to your friends." you say, "they were very nice."

"I barely heard you."

"that's because you were probably occupied talking to the others-"

"-you didn't talk to me." he finds himself saying in annoyance.

"I didn't want to take your day away,"

"from who?"

"you."

"there's nothing to take from me."

"yes there is," you tell him. "your attention. you haven't seen your friends in-"

“they all pity me.”

“what? no they don-”

“-you’re not blind. people don’t… they don’t look at you like some pity animal, just waiting for you to fuck up.”

“you are not a pity....”

“oh yeah?” he breathes, ragged. “then why the fuck did you agree to read to a blind man?”

there was some silence, regret pooled at the back of your throat and then a shift in your weight as you stood. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. I like you, “I- I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I- are we…?”

“I don’t think we should be seeing each other,” he expresses. “not for a while,”

“a while?”

“yeah, a while.’’

“do you… want me to leave?”

“I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you want me to come back monday?”

“I don’t think so,”

when you left, satoru's jaw tightened, hands now fisted by his sides and a body so rigid one might think he were frozen in place. satoru stays like that for several moments, eyes nearing a burning sensation as he focuses on where he would imagine the door is, almost expectantly waiting for your return as if this were a dream.

but it wasn't.

and as the minutes pass, he paces his living room. hands running over his hair.

he had done wrong.

"ichiji," his voice almost broke, dry and borderline desperate. “I…” I think I fucked up, “I want you to pick up y/n. She just left my place, but she doesn’t have a car.”

"I already did," he says, "she said just that."

“Did she tell you anything?” he finds himself expecting.

“not really..."

“how did she look?”

normal? Ichiji wanted to say, didn't you just see her? but the tone in satoru’s voice confirmed that he did something to leave you so quiet after the party. 

“she was quiet,” he tells him, “...maybe she was tired from the party. you know, she organized it herself.”

“she... what?”

“yeah. utahime helped her bring the cake. she needed someone to drive while she carried the cake because she didn't trust anyone to hold it the 20 something minutes it took to get to your house. she told me she was trying to look for someone who knew how to make ice cream kikufuku and ended up finding the niece of the old owners of a shop she said you used to frequent. after long convincing, she was able to get the niece to help. I’m pretty sure she made the cake, with the help of the niece of course. she also made the dinner, and even had shoko bring in the drinks along with candles that your friend forgot to bring, — so I guess she was just tired, right?”

Satoru was speechless. unsure if it was the fact that you did so much for him or the fact that he had never heard, in his entire life, hear ichiji speak for so long with such conviction, it was everything he needed to hear.

right? the words in satoru's mind, head pounding with everything and anything relating you. and on the other side of the line stood a confused yet almost concerned ichiji.

"hello? are you still there?"

"yeah," he answered dryly, "is... is she home safe?"

"of course, I dropped her off." but it sounded like, why wouldn't she be? to which satoru felt like it wasn't a good enough answer. he needed to see, hear that you were okay. and he was afraid that he was regretting his words so easily.

"satoru," now serious, ichiji's words pulled him from his thoughts, "are you still there? what happen-"

"-I fucked up," he choked, "I... I said things I shouldn't have..."

[wishcamper]

47 crave for nessriel (or nezriel)

thank you for the perfect excuse to bring back stoner!Nesta

cw: drug use

“So what was the emergency?”

She’s sprawled out Cassian’s bed under the slow-rotating fan when Azriel lets himself in. The looseness of summer is draped over every surface, night a soft blanket covering the sharp and grimy in Velaris, so that the darkness feels ripe with promise.

“I have twelve more pages to write and I’m all out,” Nesta explains, glancing up from her laptop toward the grinder on the bedside table. “And I need someone to entertain Cass when he comes home.”

Azriel sighs and pulls a vacuum-sealed baggie from his back pocket, tossing it on the bed.

“You know they have actual delivery services now.”

“But then how would I ever see you? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been avoiding me.”

There’s a weird dissonance in her clear voice when she says it. Not lonely or angry so much as.. tired. Nesta’s good at hiding how she feels, but he’s picked up on a lot in the two years she's dated his best friend. The way she rolls her neck with a frustrated sigh, long fingers rubbing along an arched eyebrow.

Perching at the desk, Azriel retrieves the rolling papers from the drawer and gets to work, sneaking looks at where she’s resumed her vigorous typing.

“Pain’s been bad?”

“Yeah.” He sees her relief when he hands her the joint, even moreso when she takes a hit and her shoulders retire from where they’ve been crowding her ears. “It’s all these screens.”

“Then you should take a break.”

The bed is soft and warm when he takes the spot she pats beside her. Nesta passes the joint with more care than necessary, nearly delivering it straight to his lips. Cinnamon dances on her breath when she brings her face close to his, the tea she always drinks while studying.

“Any ideas?" she drawls. "I’m sure you know lots of ways to decompress.”

The air in the room is stifling and her eyes are the blue of cool, crushed ice cubes and fuck, he doesn’t want to kiss her so badly. Don’t want to crave her, his own muscles wound tight enough to snap.

He should've ignored her text. These are thoughts for his solo lurking hours, his pathetic wanderings around the city trying to forget that time months ago in the back of Rita's, the shimmer of her dress under low lights—

“Give the poor guy some room, Nes, you're about to make him short circuit."

Cassian’s huge frame fills the doorway. Azriel’s better sense begs him to pull away, put his hands in plain sight, but it’s like they’ve been magnetized. And he's high on more than just the weed because the memory won't stop as it should, Cassian's thick arms, his fucking laugh, all three of them—

“We’re taking a break,” Nesta says mildly, smile catlike. “Care to join?”

[ofallthingsnasty]

I'm not sure if you're still taking requests for the yandere alphabet, but if you are would you do A I and Q for Crocodile please? I absolutely love how you write him ❤️

Yandere Alphabet letters f, h, n and y for crocodile !!! i'm glad 💕 and of course!! prompt lists like that are super fun, they're excellent for warm ups (☆▽☆)

tw yandere, violence mention, death mention, minors dni

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

That really depends on your definition of love - is it love when he gifts you an entire wardrobe, when he keeps you fed and entertained, when he even indulges your little hobbies and gets you some pencils, some yarn, books? Or is that him playing dress-up doll with you, molding you into something that suits him? Is gift giving not a sign that he thinks about you, that he cares for you? Is it love when he graciously ignores you sulking over dinner instead of beating the blues out of you? Is it not love when he lets himself rest on your lap? Does love need grand exclamations and his hands on you all the time? But it really up to who you ask, hm? Because I'm sure that you see everything in a different light than him. In his mind, he's being more than generous, more than loving - while you probably feel like you're about to suffocate, know exactly that he expects gratitude for all the things he gets you, for all the patience he's shown you. So, is it love, a desire to care for you or is it yet another manipulation tactic? Probably both. As for intensity, that man's entire presence is the definition of stifling - he may not be intense in the traditional sense, but those tiny little touches, that hand on your shoulder, thigh, cheek will feel like they weigh a ton. He knows how to impose, how to talk without opening his mouth.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Nothing big, really. He doesn't want kids, he wants power and an Ancient Weapon - you're a nice addition to that. I think he just wants to keep the status quo once you've... been broken in enough. It's rather simple.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Okay, first thing first: you don't leave. Don't fool yourself into thinking that you can somehow slip through his fingers, that'd be entirely ridiculous - the only way out of this is one of you kicking the bucket, because even if the stars aligned and someone were to come to your rescue, he'd drag you back by the scruff of your neck. And if you die, well, tough luck. That little dream is over, then. Is it going to sting? Sure. Will he have a big fit over it? Depends on the circumstances. But he'll do as he always does - goes back to his never-ending work to accomplish something, to build up something, to get a profit out his work. There just won't be anyone to come home to like there used to be.

[film-in-my-soul]

Oh for Bingo can I get Outsider POV IceMav? 🥰

.⋆｡°✩ Carole eavesdrops but only because she loves her friend. ✩°｡⋆.

Pete thinks he's slick. He thinks that his late-night phone calls and dashes out to the mailbox when he's off deployment are sneaky and well concealed, but Carole Bradshaw didn't spend years hiding boyfriends from her daddy not to recognize the same tactics when they were waving right in front of her face.

At first, she ignores it, giggles behind her hand when Pete's not looking, ruffling Bradley's hair when he mimics her. There's no harm, she figures, in letting Pete keep his sweetheart to himself. He's never been shy before when it comes to love, but maybe, she thinks, he's growing up a bit, learning to slow it down when it matters. All Carole cares about is that he's happy, and by the way he can't quite keep the color out of his cheeks or the stars out of his eyes when she spots the edge of a letter or hears the soft whispers of a hushed phone conversation, he is.

The more she hears, though, the more she really looks, the more she realizes that maybe it's not because Pete's trying to be quiet about this thing he's got going on. It might just be because he has to.

As much as it's Pete's home when he's stateside, Carole doesn't try to tiptoe around her house; privacy is never a guarantee. Still, when she's up getting water or just needs to go outside and breathe in the chilly night air to chase away some stray tears sleeping in her half-filled bed leaves her with, she can't help stumbling on Pete tucked around the corner of the kitchen, phone cord stretched around to give his hiding place away.

He doesn't always see her, and she doesn't let on that she's there. In these moments, they're just two boats passing in the night. It doesn't mean that she can't hear, though, and try as she might not to listen, well... she doesn't get much gossip at the Post Office.

Pete's voice is even, a little tired given the hour, but more lovesick than stricken, so what little guilt might have clung to Carole if this had been one of the bad times when Pete needed whoever was on the other end isn't there.

"They're keeping you out there for another week?" He sounds positively anguished, and Carole sees the edge of Pete's foot kick out all discontent. There's no doubt it's his mystery girl. Pete doesn't even get that childish when Bradley steals the last strip of bacon. It makes Carole stifle a snort as she tries her best to open the back door without setting off its telltale creak.

She wonders if maybe Pete's girl is on a carrier somewhere, a secretary or something like that...

"But you're still gonna make it for Christmas, right?" He sounds hopeful, and then he lets out a chuckle so light and fond that it twists up Carole's heart in the best way.

"Look, I know you don't celebrate, but I still want you here." A pause. "Carole won't mind. I'll come up with somethin' to tell her."

Carole's brow furrows, and for a moment, she wants to speak up because Pete has to know that she wouldn't tell him he couldn't bring someone around for the holidays, especially if it's-

"Ice," Pete says with a sigh, and Carole feels her entire brain turn a bit on its axis, realization slipping into place between her wide-eyed slow blink as he continues, voice still soft, "It's not gonna be like that. And you know," his tone brightens. Carole feels that twist again, deeper somehow, "I've always been pretty good at thinking on my feet." Pete tappers off with a laugh, one Carole's heard more and more as the months have drifted by. Now she knows why, now she understands, and even though the tears had dried up when she'd walked down the hall, they're threatening to fall again for a hundred different reasons.

She leaves Pete to his call, then manages to slip out the backdoor without a hint of old wood croaking for attention and looks up to the sky.

Slowly, a smile pulls the corner of her mouth up as the stars blink down on her. The more she lets the understanding stew in her thoughts, the more she finds nothing changes. A part of her, somewhere deep, for a moment in the stillness of her brain making the connections between Pete's secrecy and the reasons why, had been worried something might. Because hoping you act or feel some way in the face of the unknown and knowing is different, and she's glad to know she's not any way she doesn't want to be when it comes down to it. When it's important.

And in the morning, if she passes Pete the last strip of bacon and asks him if he might be wanting to bring someone around for the holidays since it had just been them the last time he was on the ground, well, she's just thrilled when he says, cheeks going hot and eyes sliding away, that maybe he just might.

Ficlet Bingo!

[hpsaffics]

🎄HP Saffics Santa's Favourite Stories 2024🎄

The following stories were selected by our Discord members as their favourite works they've created in 2024! It's been great to read the reasons these stories were chosen, and while we won't share the specifics, under the masterlist you'll find some stats on just why we all loved creating sapphic fanworks this year.

🎁 The list

once more, with feeling by Marenke @nyenke - (Cho & Luna, G)

“Which run is this?” Luna asked, sliding in front of her, because somehow, she always knew, and Cho - head down against the table, trying to not think of Cedric on the table behind her, laughing at some joke - tried to recall, then gave up after half a minute, groaning.

The Road To Home by the_prettiest_w0lf_star @the-prettiest-w0lf-star - (Minerva/Poppy, M)

Having fled a stifling life and built something better for herself, Minnie pours all her love into the orphanage she's just opened with Poppy. Little did she know that one of the children they forstered would become her son, and some more would follow over the years.

tell me why my gods look like you (when dudes try to chase me) by multiimoments @multiimoments - (Pansy/Ginny, G)

Ginny comes to terms with her feelings for someone who has been lingering in her mind lately.

good luck, babe! (you’re nothing more than his wife) by QueenOfStormySkies @chemicalwildflowers

They all do things to survive. For Cultober day 12 - whump prompt - headache

Dream With Me by dark_pookha @pookha - (Hermione/Luna, M)

Hermione wants more than just the white picket fence with Ron; she wants to make a difference. She always thought she’d be doing that in the Ministry, but finds instead that she wants to become a Healer. She doesn’t believe in soulmates, but when she discovers that Luna shares her dreams, literally shares her dreams, her foundations are shaken. The war exposed Luna to her father’s lies. When she’s named co-Head Girl with Hermione Granger, she never expected to fall in love with her. When she discovers that Hermione shares the same dreams, literally shares the same dreams, her foundations are shaken. An 8th year, Head Dorms story with dream sharing. After one early chapter partially from Harry’s POV, all the rest will be from Hermione’s POV. All the scars are on the inside I'm not sure if there's anything left of me -Blue Oyster Cult-songwriters Michael Moorcock and Eric Bloom

Striking a Spark by SiobhanHazel @siobhanhazel - (Minerva/Lily, T)

Minerva McGonagall, an Unspeakable and ex-Hogwarts professor, undertakes a mission to 1979. Thanks to the Time Department’s sophisticated time travel methods, de-aged nineteen-year-old Minerva finds herself at a bar, revelling in the spontaneity of youth with her former students; Lily Evans and her friends. Travel of any kind tends to shift one’s perspective, and time travel is no exception.

Nowhere to Go/Fast Car by shewritesmaybe - (Dorcas/Marlene, E)

A snowed-in, American muggle AU for Dorlene. Because *women*

Bellatrix Black: An Elegy by thistlecat @thistlecatfics - (Bellatrix/Andromeda, E)

“Bellatrix Black Lestrange was survived by her husband, sister, nephew, and me, whatever I could be considered, if I could even be considered someone who survived her.”

Perfectionism and Appearances by maple321 @maple-321 - (Hermione/Pansy, M)

Newly appointed Prefect Hermione Granger is steadfast in accomplishing the long-term goals she's set for herself. She's dating her best friend Ron, is very busy preparing for O.W.L.s and completing Prefect duties, and certainly doesn't have time to be bullied by Pansy Parkinson, who is clearly determined to make her life as difficult as possible.

The Aurora by SnarkyGranger1 @snarkygranger1 - (Narcissa/Minerva, E)

Minerva was surprised to see her at the hot springs but by the end of the weekend, they were grateful for the time well spent.

Look What We Found by DayDreamingFoxglove @daydreamingfoxglove - (Luna/Pansy, T)

Luna finds a cat. Pansy finds humility. They both find their soulmates. Everybody wins.

What must it be like to fall? by lumosatnight @lumosatnight - (Walburga/Minerva, M)

Walburga wanders the moors, bottle in hand, and comes across a woman in the grassy fields. What is the woman, anyway, if not another person, another possibility, that she can never have?

[Podfic of] Sparkles, Moonlight, and Tuna Sandwiches by wilfriede0815 * @wilfriede (Luna/Ginny, T)

Ginny Weasley loves soccer. Ginny Weasley does not love Anthro 101. Luckily, she's found a study buddy.

*this work has multiple creators, and was submitted by wilfriede0815 - see the work for the full list

Darling, you say (And I keen under your touch) by Nihilistic_Nomad @nihilisticnomad (Hermione/Narcissa, E)

Hermione and Narcissa finally take the next step in their relationship.

warmth by miss_grimwood @miss-grimwood (Bellatrix/Nagini, T)

Bellatrix and Nagini give each other the warmth Voldemort denies them

Anything for... by Elvira_Kamgut (Minerva/Arabella, G)

Renowned pirate Minerva McGonagall knew that Albus Dumbledore was hiding some treasure somewhere, if only there was someone who could show the way.

treasure by mischiefmandied @mischiefmandied (Fleur/Angelina, E)

“Oh my désirée, you get me the most beautiful gifts.” Fleur flipped her tail as Angelina approached their secluded cave, braids cascading down her back and her captain's hat casting a shadow across her face. Her hands were full. One hand was dripping in gold chains, strands of pearls, and beautiful gems. The other was dripping in blood, a human heart resting in her palm. 

🎁 The stats

We had 17 (!!!) works submitted as your favourite stories, and we loved reading the reasons you chose them. we categorised themes for *why* you loved these works, and here are the stats:

25.53% were selected because you explored a new pairing or character

5.88% were chosen because it was your favourite ship

29.41% were chosen because you explored a new genre, theme, or dynamic

47.06% (almost half!) were chosen because you were proud of the finished product

35.29% were chosen because they were fun to write

11.76% were chosen because they received positive feedback

and finally, 29.41% were chosen because of the personal impact they had on the creator

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Therapy (2) Masterlist

part one

a map to the lost (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan's third therapy appointment, circa late 2014.

a pinch of sugar (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: dan comes home to find a treat waiting for him at home

But I'll Be Close Behind (ao3) - fringesandcringes

Summary: Exploring how they work through Dan's depression individually and as a partnership, through therapy sessions, episodes, and posting a YouTube video about it for the whole world to see.

Deceit and Devotion (ao3) - Thatonefunhun

Summary: Phil Lester has it all. A successful career doing what he loves, a “bestie” who's always got his back, and a can-do attitude! He’s living the life! But what goes on beyond the camera? And is everything as it seems…

Dropping Anchor in a Storm (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Phil wakes in the early hours to a thin beam of sunlight breaking through his curtains, and the soft sound of Dan breathing by his side.

He should be able to bask in the peace and stillness of the room, but his brain won't let him do that today.

(TW) Exhausted (ao3) - breatherepeat

Summary: Dan has spent years in therapy unpacking the issues of his past and coming to terms with himself. In order to complete his journey of self-acceptance, he knew he would have to face some difficult aspects of his past. The only way to work through years of repressed memories is to bring them to light and process them.

It Gets Better (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: The air in the waiting room is too hot. Dan is hoping his therapist’s office is cooler— it usually is, she has a fan that she always turns on when he walks in— but he also is sitting with that heavy feeling in his stomach that today is going to be a hard day, and the room being stifling would just be part of his luck.

A fic about self-empathy and good sessions.

it's a church of burnt romances (ao3) - phanetixs

Summary: Dan backs into the car and the driver asks where he’s heading. His head swims with thoughts of Phil, and of guilt and embarrassment at how he’s subconsciously treating his friend. Whose life centres around virtues like chastity. And non-objectification goes both ways. Dan takes a few deep breaths, pressing a palm to his insistent bulge to quell his arousal. As always, it doesn’t work.

Well, he resolves, if he can’t get Phil out of his head, he’s got to get someone else into it. Or onto him, preferably.

Or, a Fleabag AU.

Redemption Arc (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: classic, slightly dramatic and unrealistic rags to riches au

run don't hide (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Dan has a run-in with a girl from school.

somebody's gone (ao3) - dvp_95

Summary: Dan's first therapy session after the incident.

the brain inside my muddled head (ao3) - angelmichelangelo

Summary: dan sees his therapist

the uncertainties of sexuality (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: “For me, having a label means having to be that thing and maybe sometimes I don’t want to be that thing but how on earth can I explain that to them when all I have to do is talk about a cute boy or something and suddenly I’m a bisexual icon when I’m not...not that.”

Therapy Day (ao3) - kattdan

Summary: Sometimes therapy makes Dan feel worse and he seeks comfort in Phil.

thursday at eleven (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: This isn’t Dan’s Thursday morning, and no matter how much and how long he’s been pushing the idea, these first steps have to be Phil’s own.

Unfiltered (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: "Start with the unfiltered version," his therapist had told him. "Write it all out, as if no one else will ever see it, and then work your way from there."

It's a long process, getting everything together, readying himself to open up about depression, but he can take it in steps.

we were never in the park (ignoring tornado warnings) (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: After Phil leaves Dan, Dan starts seeing a therapist. Then, Phil comes back, and Dan starts lying to his therapist about him.

What A Catch (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Phil visits the same cafe every weekday morning without fail. But, when he decides to visit the cafe on the weekend for once, the atmosphere that he had grown used to has completely changed thanks to a piano player named Dan. While Phil is ready to jump into a relationship, Dan is hesitant and is still trying to stitch his life together again after What Had Happened in his past relationship. And that’s easier said than done.

wherever you stray i follow (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Dan brings Phil with him to therapy.

[2nd-drop-me-safely-in-this-hell]

The image of Vergil is taken from a video showcasing a mod that alters his face, which can be found here. The screenshot has been altered for visibility.

"An Imposed Courtship, Part II"

Characters:

Lucia (Devil May Cry)

Vergil (Devil May Cry)

Dante (Devil May Cry), mentioned

Relationships:

Vergil x Lucia

Dante x Lucia, unrequited

Premise:

Dante has left the building. Now Lucia and Vergil are left to become acquainted.

Content Warnings:

Unrequited love

Author's Note:

This is the second part of an ongoing story. The first part can be found here. The next part will be linked here when it is finished.

In this story, Vergil's devil form is described differently than it is depicted in Devil May Cry 5. I wanted it to seem to be somewhere in between a standard Devil Trigger and a Sin Devil Trigger, as that is the role it plays in Vergil's moveset.

Lucia looked the man before her up and down. He was unmistakably Dante's brother. He had the same handsome features, albeit undercut by his dour expression and... Interesting hairstyle. She did, however, admit to herself that he was rather sharply dressed.

Vergil broke the silence. "What have you been told about me?"

"I know about Redgrave City, if that's what you're wondering." Lucia bluntly replied.

Vergil nodded. "Dante doesn't plan on returning while you're here. I won't take offense if you wish to go home."

Lucia sighed. "Did he tell you why, by any chance?"

"Not at all. He was insistent that there was nothing wrong with you. He simply isn't interested."

Lucia crossed her arms. "He could have told me as much."

"Certainly. Although, it was foolish of you to come all this way with no guarantee of his attention."

"I know... I was hoping to at least get a confirmation of his feelings, one way or another."

"You shouldn't have warned him you were coming, then."

Lucia stifled a chuckle. "I didn't wish to be that rude."

"It seems to me that he's been incredibly rude to you."

Lucia nodded.

Vergil reached into his coat pocket. "I would normally be happy to send you to the nearest airport, but I've opened two portals today already. Abusing Yamato's power risks blurring the divide between this world and the Underworld, even limiting its use to one side." He pulled out a stack of cash. "The most I can afford to do is to expense your journey home."

Lucia shook her head. "That's very generous, but I'll stay. So long as you don't mind."

"...Even knowing what I've done?"

"As Trish tells it, it's only what one half of you has done. And even Lady admits that you're mostly harmless now." Lucia's eyes fell to the floor. "It's a little inspiring, really. To hear that someone who fell so far can salvage their life, with enough support."

"Hm."

Lucia's eyes met Vergil's. "So, would you mind if I stayed?"

Vergil hesitated for a moment. "No. Though, I'm not much more local to this city than you are, so don't ask me what to do while you're here."

"That's fair enough." Lucia took a seat on the couch. Vergil remained standing.

"So..." She struggled for a moment to decide what to ask this man, who lost so much of his life to evil. Eventually, she spoke.

"What do you know about me?"

"Not very much. Obviously, you aren't human. Though I don't think I've encountered a demon quite like yourself before."

"Ah..." Lucia's gaze fell again.

Vergil adjusted his collar. "It's obvious because you radiate demonic power. Considerable demonic power. You must be a formidable warrior."

"Thanks." Lucia said softly.

"Your form is indistinguishable from a human's. You're quite beautiful, really."

Lucia laughed. "You aren't so bad yourself. Though, I must admit, that hair is quite a statement. Have you always worn it that way?"

"Yes. Unlike my brother, I don't prioritize vanity over my vision."

"Then why not just... Cut it short?"

Vergil shifted nervously. "I like it this way."

Lucia nodded. "That's fair enough."

Vergil nodded as well. "Is that red your natural color?"

"Yes, it is."

"...It's very striking."

"Thank you... I think."

The pair fell into silence for a long moment after that. The quiet was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

Vergil picked it up. "Devil May Cry." He paused. "Yes, that is the password. State your business."

Lucia watched as Vergil listened to the caller.

"Remain calm. Help will arrive shortly." Vergil hung up the phone.

Lucia stood. "Well, it seems there's something to do around here after all."

"That there is. Shall we?"

* * *

Vergil and Lucia stepped out of the office, and onto the sparsely populated street.

Lucia looked around. "I don't see a taxi..."

"There's no need for that." Vergil activated his devil form, and spread his wings.

"Oh my..." Lucia examined Vergil's transformation.

She was amused by the silhouette of his head, which fittingly reminded her of a samurai helmet, save for the protruding tube-shaped horns on each side. His eyes were bright green, not just the two in the middle of his face, but the dozens along his head and body. His face appeared almost skull-like, having flesh, but lacking eyelids, lips, or a nose. His mouth held large, sharp teeth. Two wings sprouted from his back, along with a tail with a barbed tip. His fingers and toes were clawed, and his left arm bore a scaled scabbard, now holding Yamato.

Aside from his more grotesque features, Lucia was struck by Vergil's lean physique, his musculature once hidden beneath his layered garb now laid bare. A strong stench of sulfur hit Lucia's nose, and she couldn't help but feel that she wasn't as repulsed as she should have been.

Vergil cocked his head. "Well? I've shown you mine." His voice was lower, and distorted in a way that sent a shiver down Lucia's spine. "I'm waiting."

Vergil wanted to see her devil form. And despite herself, Lucia wanted to show it to him.

Lucia activated her own transformation, bearing white feathers on black skin, and spread her own wings.

Vergil's breath hitched, made more noticeable by the distortion of his voice.

"I'm ready." Lucia spoke. "Lead the way."

"Very well." Vergil turned in a hurry, then took to the skies, and Lucia found that his physique was just as striking from behind. "Try to keep up!" Vergil shouted as he flew at an alarming speed.

Lucia took to the skies herself, and quickly caught up, leaving behind the Devil May Cry office, and any thoughts of its proprietor.

[writing-with-yours-truly]

"Lowkey Burnout" Wade Whipple (Knuckles/Sonic 1 & 2) x Reader

Request: ANON

Hi there! I really really liked your wade whipple fic, there is not enough content for him 😭. I was just wondering if i could request an x reader fic for him?

(Probably early in relationship) The reader's sleep shedule is all messed up because they keep working into the early hours of the morning, and it's starting to take a noticeable toll on them. Wade makes them take a break and fluffiness ensues. (Preferably gender neutral, but fem is good too)

Ofc no pressure! And make sure to have a break and drink water! :D

---

Thanks so much for the request, Anon. Lots of love to you, whoever you are. Take care, love!

---

Warnings: None

Gender: Non-binary/No pronouns used

No use of Y/N for this fic!

---

---

When you heard that your schedule at work was changing, you were upset, to say the least. Your hours were shifted from the day (about the same as your partner, Wade's) to the late night.

"Are you sure I can't work first shift?" You pleaded to your boss, who sat at her desk, unphased to your passionate and angry tone.

"No, I'm sorry. Mella is gonna quit, and she was the head nurse on the night shift. There's two of you on day shift, so I drew from a hat," Your boss continued typing away nonsense on her computer, not bothering to look at you.

"You know, you could always quit--"

"No, ma'am. That won't be necessary."

The thought running through your mind was:

What will Wade think?

Luckily, your shift change wouldn't happen for a few days, so you'll get to enjoy being home and spending time with Wade -and Knuckles- for a few more days.

You look at the wedding band on your left ring finger, glistening in the bright lights of the hospital. He'll be okay.

----

"Wade, I'm ho..me!" Your voice pitched up as you felt him pick you up. "Put me down!" You squealed with a laugh. "I missed you so much! How was work?" He eventually set you down, and you regained your balance.

"It was alright. I um. I found out that I'm working nights starting Monday."

Wade looked at you with a shocked expression. "Really?" He asked, taking a step back from you. "Yeah. Mella quit, so I have to pick up her shifts."

"Babe, are you sure you can do this?" Wade asked, reaching out for your hands, clumsily missing the first time, before you held your hands out for him to grab. "Yes, I can. Can you? Will you be okay with this change? Will Knuckles?"

"We'll be fine."

---

On Sunday night, Knuckles came over to hang out with his favorite Aunt and Uncle. You and Wade. You decided since it was a warm summer month, you three should go fishing. You hadn't since you moved back home, and Knuckles has never done such a thing. "So, Mrs. Whipple," Knuckles started, looking at you. His pole was next to him as Wade set his worm up. "Wade has said that you are going to be working nights at the hospital. Are you guarding the hospital?"

You stifle a laugh as you feel a tug on your line. You reel in slowly to realize you have a snag. You pull your pole to tug on the branch you're stuck on. "No, Knuckles. I have to be the night nurse. In case someone comes in sick. Like a baby. Or even you. Wait, I think you'd go to the vet."

Wade chirped up, "I don't know, hon. Knuckles is kind of like a person. Except he's red. And furry."

"Well my dad's furry."

"No, he's hairy."

"Same thing."

The three of you fish in silence, before there's a pull on Wade's line. "I got a bluegill!" He yelled.

---

Two weeks.

That's how long you lasted without burning out. You could sleep normally. But now that two weeks have blown by, you aren't getting sleep during your time off. Instead, you're sitting on the couch, watching FRIENDS.

Unexpectedly, Wade walked through the door. He's home early. The sound of the FRIENDS theme song caught him off guard. Usually, you fall asleep to nature sounds. "Hon?" He peered into the living room to see you with bloodshot eyes, watching FRIENDS.

He sat down next to you. "Hey," He said with a soft voice, sliding a hand behind your back. "You need to get some sleep. You have work tonight."

"Not tired," You grumbled, words slurring together.

He pulled you to your feet. "Nope, don't wanna hear that excuse. Now c'mon. Let's get you to sleep."

He guided you to your shared room, letting you sit down on your side of the bed. He laid down next to you, holding you close. "You can call in today. You need to. You look awful."

"Gee, thanks," You stifled.

"Not like that. You just...Look tired."

"I know. I'll call my boss in a bit. Let me just...Stay like this for a while."

It was silence between the two of you for a while. Then Wade spoke up. "I love you."

His response was your loud snores. He chuckled, holding you closer, before he fell asleep himself.

[bellshazes]

do it again director's commentary part 4

She takes a moment just to watch him clawing at the arms of the chair restlessly, creased at the waist like a spring coiling itself tight, gravity dragging on him like a star that’s readying to go out with a bang. She had really loved him for that, once.

She'd understood then, watching him lurch away from her not out of shame but falling into someone else’s orbit; not every home had to be for always. Even now the confirmation of it all sends diffuse warmth radiating out from her chest, that by chance and by choice they've ended up together again and again, despite it all.

i'm still really proud of these. cleo really did love him for that, once, several worlds & more lifetimes ago. also once again bringing up gravity - bdubs is always in terms of orientation, orbit, gravitational pull, compass, etc. etho does the compass metaphor (thank you john donne) later, complimenting cleo's perception of bdubs-as-orbiting, but to cleo he's an object in motion in search of a tether, and to etho he's the other foot of that compass drawing circles.

“I know it’s stupid. I know it was always a death game from the very beginning. It just… matters. To me. What we did, to each other. It has to.” He lets himself lean a little back into her.

THESIS ALERT. bdubs will learn that it does matter, but when they have so many - nearly infinite chances to start again, the limits aren't there and the novelty is what comes to matter. when they understand each other, anything is fine.

“I can see your gears turning,” she says, stifling a laugh. She tangles their fingers together. “I don’t remember, but I remember remembering. Meeting you felt like home again.”

bdubs can quote his own "now it feels like home!" line when implicitly promted in this chapter but he has not realized the implications of cleo making it home meaning there had been another home before with her in it.

“I really don’t think Etho is trying to kill you in this life,” Cleo says. “I’m not certain he tried in the last one. Or ever. ”

there's a reason in limited life cleo is the only one brave enough to straight up ask etho "why can't you be normal about bdubs?". they comprehend better.

“If I was wrong about that last time, then there’s a chance it’s just things bleeding through making him weird now. If I was right that he loved me, then he still got me killed anyway and he’s choosing to lie to me about remembering for no good reason because he’s capable of caring and also doing awful things to me. I don’t know all about that Etho, but I know this Etho. I do,” he says, nodding to himself with a suddenly distant look in his eyes. 

this paragraph was a long, long time of a lot of very hard work to make brief, simple, and complex enough. i needed bdubs to be aware that it's not just about the memory of threats of physical harm; bc of the hospital scene, he's pretty sure etho knows more than he's letting on (even if we know etho's forgot/rationalized it all away now that he isn't half dead). and it's not that he thinks etho is evil - he believes in etho so very much that he's choosing to believe some not-actually-his-current-roommate version of him is a corrupting influence or it's more possesion-like, because then it's that old etho who's the liar. he cannot accept this life's etho lying and being awful on purpose AND that the last one still got him killed anyway. despite the paranoia and ridiculousness of his claim etho's out to kill him, it's really something he's trying to convince himself of, to protect his idea of this etho. and he's right about this etho just.... in all the wrong ways.

She lets go of his hand so she can flip it over, palm face up on his knee, tracing his lifeline with one fingernail. "Do you really think I'm out for your blood, too?" she asks as her index finger comes to rest at the base of his wrist, feeling his pulse. "Are you waiting for an opening to attack me? Because I promise you won't find one. We keep making the choice to care about each other, and unless you stop choosing that, this won’t change. That’s what makes it familiar."

i almost cut this for being too shippy, and then i thought, fuck it, i love this part too much to let it go and the thing is, they love each other. they do, in this different precarious precious way. there is so much joy and affection tied up in them and being home to each other. i call it like i see it man.

Here in this life, this one singular life, there is no threat of dying or betrayal and the choices they both make are different. But when she dreamt him in that open field, conspiring badly to trap the enchanter and asking her help to lure others in, it had been the comforting sameness of him that had made her agree to a plan she knew was doomed. They had not been allies, quite, but they had been before and the friendship, though changed, remained. Even forgotten history is only built on, not erased.

They had not been allies, quite, but they had been before and the friendship, though changed, remained. Even forgotten history is only built on, not erased.

AND SO THE MUSIC CHANGES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fieldofdaisiies]

Lovers At Last (pt. 3)

secret santa gift for @iftheshoef1tz ❤️ @acotargiftexchange ship: Azriel x Eris type: angst (with a hint of fluff) word count: 3,4k words warnings: talks about domestic violence story masterlist | ao3

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,  the world offers itself to your imagination,  calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting… (Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)

Eris folds his manuscript, and finally lowers his gaze from where he has been staring out of the window for the past minutes. He shoves the manuscript —something about blood tests to figure certain illnesses— and shoves it into the front pocket of his small bag. There's an ache in his heart and it won't go away. It has been there since the moment Azriel left. Last evening. 

And this evening…Azriel will leave completely. Romania. What will Azriel do there? He doesn't even speak the language. And what if they catch him?

Harsh and Exciting - the only words to describe the journey ahead of Azriel and Eris can't let himself imagine what that will mean. What dangers Azriel will face. He will never see him again. Even if he survives he will never—

"Herr Doktor?" Schwester Nuala asks with a sort of urgency and impatience in her tone. Has she been talking to him for longer? Hasn't he heard her before? Noticed her?

Eris has to admit he doesn't quite care. He turns to look over his shoulder, his neck and shoulders tense from the pressure weighing down on him. 

"A woman is here."

"For me?" Eris raises a brow and nurse Nuala stifles a chuckle. She knows it is not appropriate to laugh at your boss, but he looks like a deer caught in headlight and she wonders what he has been thinking about that has captured him so terrible. 

"Not exactly, but she wants to see the woman called Emerie. Is she allowed to visit her?"

Eris draws in a deep inhale and then nods. He moves his bag to the end of the desk, leaning it against the wall, the manuscript long forgotten.

"Who is she? Someone from the family?"

Nuala shakes her head. "No, she says she is a friend. She is the singer from the theatre. Gwyneth Berdara, the slender woman with the copper hair and the wonderful voice." 

Eris curls his hands around the backrest of the chair, almost like he wants to keep his body from curling inwards. The singer who often performs with Azriel's orchestra. Why out of all people would exactly she be friends with Emerie. 

Eris shakes his head and brings a hand up to brush his hair back. Nuala is still looking at him, waiting. 

"She-she is allowed t-to." Eris clears his throat, and smoothes out his sterile coat. "I am coming with you, I need to check on the girl anyway." 

Eris follows Nuala out of his office, sliding his hands into the pockets of his white sterile coat, fumbling with pieces of fabric - something to keep him occupied and calm his racing thoughts. He can't let him go. He can't let him go alone.

But he has to. He can't come along. Azriel has to stay. 

There is so much going on his mind. It feels like a whirlwind is brewing. The emotions make him feel dizzy, his head heavy. His heart heavily thumps in his chest, aching fiercely. 

The woman here for Emerie is waiting patiently, a smile blooming on her lips when she takes in Eris. 

He swallows and then clears his throat again. "You are—"

"Gwyneth Berdara. If I remember correctly you are a constant visitor of the theatre, am I right?" she asks with a smile on her face. She just wants to be kind, but the mention of the theatre makes the back of Eris' mouth ache. 

He wanted to forget about Azriel so badly. At least during the hours at work. Thinking of Azriel will become inevitable in the evening, the long hours at night, anyway. But at least now…he wanted some peace, but it is not possible. Azriel is always there, his love for him too strong, his touch and scent imprinted on him. Azriel is always with him. HIs heart is with him. Azriel, has given him his heart, and Eris always keeps it safe. 

I carry your heart with me I carry it in my heart

I am never without it 

Anywhere I go you go, my dear (e.e. cummings)

When Azriel first told him he loves him…Since this very moment Eris treasures his heart. But he…he had not even once said it back. Too scared of what it means. Too scared of getting his heart broken. And now he is the one who broke Azriel's heart. The director expected it to be safe with Eris and all he has done with it, is cause it pain.. 

Eris extends a hand. "After you, Frau Berdara." He has to swallow again, his throat burning like he has drunk acid. 

They enter the room where Emerie rests with a few other women and her eyes immediately light up when they land on Gwyn. 

Eris gives the women a bit of space, preparing his utensils - the ones he needs for Emerie. She will receive a bit more of a painkiller through a syringe so sleeping and lying on her back becomes easier. The gastritis has been very strong. 

"Why are you here?" Emerie asks, a lovely smile gracing her lips. She reaches her hand out to Gwyn who immediately takes it and then sits down on the bed. 

"Because you are my best friend, and you are not feeling well. Obviously, I came to see you." Gwyn smiles, her thumb brushing over the back of her best friend's hand. 

"Oh, Gwynny," Emerie hums. "But how do you have time? You are always practicing on Monday mornings?"

Gwyn shakes her head and Eris focuses on her, syringe in his hand somehow forgotten. 

"Singer cancelled the orchestra practice today. And also the show this evening. He said he wasn't feeling well and had to cancel."

Eris' throat constricts. Azriel truly meant it. He is going to leave. Today. 

The doctor's hands start to tremble, almost so much the syringe slips out of them. But he tries to level his breathing, tries to focus. This is his work - he has to concentrate. 

Eris' gaze lifts and he looks at the window, outside. Almost like he can see right to Azriel’s home. Or the place he called home. Azriel will soon leave and he will never—

It is the women's giggle that fetches him back to the moment. Eris turns to them, his fingers curling tighter around the cool tool in his hand. He has to focus now. 

"I will give you another small injection, Emerie. If that is alright?"

Emerie nods, a small smile on her lips. Eris can see the slight hint of nervousness in her eyes - a syringe scares many people, she is definitely not the only one. 

Eris gentle takes her arm into his hand, cleans the skin, searches for a vein and then inserts the injection without Emerie noticing anything. He has very skilled fingers - his patients never feel any kind of pain. 

But still a grimace spreads over her face and she looks up at Eris with big eyes. 

"There you go, Emerie. This will help with the pain and speed up your healing," the doctor reassures her with a warm smile.

Emerie nods weakly, Gwyn holds her other hand, concern etched upon her face.

"Frau Berdara you can stay a while, but Emerie needs a lot of rest at the moment," Eris advises. "I'll leave you two for a bit. Emerie, take it easy. If you need anything call for a nurse."

As he exits the room, the door closes softly behind him, giving the two best friends some privacy. 

Once outside, Eris inhales deeply, his eyes closing. Is this a sign? That Gwyneth Berdara showed up here? Is she here only so she can remind him of Azriel? 

Eris swallows thickly and shakes his head. 

"Guten Abend, Herr Doktor!"

His throat feels so dry when he wants to answer, his voice croaky when he finally brings out a greeting of his own. "Guten Abend, Schwester Cerridwen."

He walks past her, not even deigning her a look. His head feels dizzy, the world around him blurring. It is almost like walls are moving closer, capturing him. He feels like a captive, his throat constricting. He can't breathe anymore, stumbling to his office. His hand comes up and he fidgets with the top button of his shirt, loosening it. 

He is going to lose Azriel. He loves him and now he is going to lose him. He is going to lose the love of his life. 

The doctor staggers into his office, nearly tripping over his own feet. A ragged breath leaves him when he braces his hands on the white desk and throws his head back. The only thing from crying out loud are the thin walls of the hospital. People would hear him and think he has gone mad. And maybe he has.

He definitely has. For letting Azriel go. Alone. 

Azriel has been alone so much. And now he left him alone as well. 

If something happened to Azriel, he would never—

"Not now!" He growls as an answer to the knock on the door. He is not in the right state of mind to talk about medical business right now. 

He has to do something. He can't let him go alone. His life is Azriel. And without Azriel his life is not worth living. He has to—

"Yes, now!" That voice.

Eris only merely lifts his head, but his entire body shudders when his eyes land on Leutnant Proteus. Oberleutnant Keir's second yesterday. 

"Can I help you, Herr Leutnant?" Eris asks, not able to keep the bitterness from his tone.

"I am here to pick up my daughter." His voice is nothing but a bored snarl, and the elder man strokes a hand down his coarse beard. 

"Unfortunately she is not yet ready to leave."

"And who says that?" The Leutnant steps into the room, giving Eris a once-over. 

To that Eris straightens up. He turns off the light on his desk, surrounds it and leans his hip against it. Then he crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. "I say that. And I may ask you now to leave. My office and the hospital. Emerie stays at least another night."

"She won't—"

"She will." Eris tilts his chin. "She needs to recover. Would you like me to call for someone to escort you outside?" 

Eris' demeanour does not waver, despite the worry and whirlwind in his mind, he portrays the image of the confident and cold doctor. 

The Leutnant snarls, and shakes his head. Then he turns to the door and takes two steps toward it. His hand curls around the handle, slowly and he pulls it open. Eris knows there is still something to come and he doesn't have to wait long. 

"Everyone is aware that you like to stray a little bit from who men are supposed to like. Heard you have a thing for dicks."

Eris clicks his tongue, and then a cold chuckle leaves him. Leutnant Proteus is almost out of the door, making sure some people catch up on their conversation. But Eris has none of it.

"Quite bold words for someone who hits his own daughter." His voice is loud, and stern.

The Leutnant swirls around, rage etched upon his features. "You—" he seethes, but Eris cuts him off by lifting his hand.

"If I or one of the nurses and other doctors ever see bruises on her arm again, Leutnant, I will make sure that you will never ever work in this position again. If needed, I will make sure to personally escort you to a prison cell." Eris dips his chin. "If you'll excuse me now, there is something I need to do," Eris says and shrugs out of his coat. He shoves past the Leutnant and then rushes down the corridor. To his nurses and colleagues, he says, "Keep your heads up, and…have a good evening."

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. (Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)

And what he loves — there is only one thing, one person in his life that he truly loves. And this person's name hollows through his mind when he sets out for a sprint, air whooshing in and out of his lungs. 

✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ✦

"Fuck," Azriel groans, his hand brushing some damp strands of hair out of his face. His jacket does not fit into his old, shabby suitcase. Maybe he does not need it anyway? It is summer here in Berlin, hence it is also summer in Romania. He tosses the jacket away and tries to close the suitcase again. 

The tears he shed throughout the night are still visible on his face, now dried streaks on his cheeks. 

He shoves a small leather wallet into the outside pocket of his suitcase and his eyes land on a folded piece of weathered paper. It unfolds with a soft crinkle. His mother's smile, so warm, so familiar, something he hasn't seen in so long. 

These were happy times. Berlin before the war. Before the…

As his fingers trace the edges of the photograph, his gaze lingers, lost in the whirlwind of emotions it evokes. The love, the loss, the ache of separation - they all swirl within him. 

And now he is going to lose another person. He has no idea when or how he is ever going to see his mother again. She is still in Great Britain, and how should he get there?

He is alone. Azriel is once again alone. Like always. He is always alone. And just when he thought he wouldn't be alone, having found Eris, having fallen in love with him, he is losing him again. 

A tear makes its way down his cheek, and Azriel blinks rapidly. He neatly folds the picture and shoves it back into the wallet, packing it away and continuing to pack. 

Azriel rushes around in his flat, collecting bits and bobs, here and there. And as he rushes around, he spots a ring—a special ring. It’s just a simple silver band, no stones or anything on it. Eris gifted it to him a short time ago. Holding it gently, he feels its heaviness, carrying memories of a love that…no longer is. A love that is forbidden and was never meant to last. 

Azriel swallows thickly, fighting the dryness in his throat, the ache at the back of his mouth. With a heavy heart, he places the ring gently in a pocket, letting it rest against his chest, close to his beating heart. The pain is palpable, throbbing in the silence of the room, only interrupted by the noises of cars outside and his own ragged breaths. 

The sun is slowly starting to set which means he has to leave soon. He needs to catch the evening train. 

18:12, Nordbahnhof, Platform 6

He draws in a deep inhale. Then he continues to pack and also clean his flat. It feels like closure. Leaving this place and everything he has had here behind. A new part of his life is going to start. One he hoped would include Eris. But if the man doesn't want to join him…

Azriel just doesn't understand what would keep Eris here. 

Eventually, his suitcase is sealed, the room tidied, and he stands there, in front of his mirror, in the fading light of the outside world. Azriel regards himself for a moment, and knows, even if it means leaving the person he loves most behind, that what he is about to do is the right decision. He can't live here anymore. 

Can't pretend to be someone else every single day of his life. He wants to be somewhere where he can be himself. Somewhere…somewhere else. Not Germany. Not a country that has never accepted him. Not a country that will never accept him. He needs to leave.

Azriel smoothes down his shirt, and inhales deeply. The light in his eyes faded the moment Eris told him he wouldn’t come with him. He knows it will take a long time for the light to return, but he will find happiness. Somewhere. Somehow. 

Azriel reaches for the switch, plunging the room into darkness. For a moment, he lingers, taking in the quiet emptiness that now envelops his life. His heart. There is the void again. This deep, dark and cold void. 

Eris had started to fill it with love and happiness. He made him feel alive and—

Azriel shakes his head. He does not want to think about that now. Or him. 

With a resigned sigh, he turns towards the door, fingers grazing the cool door handle. His scarred fingers curl around it and he…he did not want to think about Eris, but he can't help himself and remembers the first time they met — when Eris tended to his wounds. He fell in love with him in that moment. 

Azriel pulls down the handle and opens the door. His breath catches in his throat. 

Their eyes meet, a collision of emotions

The weight of unspoken words hang heavy in the air, a palpable tension. The silence stretches out, taut like a violin string, almost like the part in a piece of music before the big climax. Until Eris breaks the stillness. 

"I fell in love with you the first moment I laid eyes on you. Right away I was taken by your eyes, your smile, your beauty, your kindness, your charm, but it was your mind, your intelligence, your wit, that won me over. Every time we touch I get a sort of feeling no one else could ever evoke in me." Eris swallows thickly. "You being in my life brought me more happiness than you can ever imagine. I know you love me."

Eris moves in closer. "And I love you. With my whole heart and body. And I should have told you so many times before. I love you, Azriel." He inhales. "And I want to join you. I want us to run away together. Wherever it takes us. I want to be with you. Wherever we go, wherever we end up. Because I love you."

He cradles Azriel's face in his hands, making him meet his gaze. "You are the person I want to spend my life with. The one person I want to grow old with. And if we are not allowed to live here the way we want it, we have to seek life somewhere else." 

Azriel is too baffled to talk. But Eris doesn't need him to talk. Not yet.

"Your mother still lives in Britain, doesn't she?"

Azriel nods, his throat too constricted to talk. "Seems like we try to go from Romania to Great Britain. We are leaving tonight."

“Bu-t you?” Azriel is still speechless, lips parted, his eyes wide open. “You…you don’t want to leave?”

“I want to be with you, Azriel.” Eris strokes his thumbs over his lover’s cheeks. “I don’t want to spend a single day without you. I need you in my life. You are my life. I can’t let you go. I love you.” His thumb catches a single tear, brushing it away. “Wherever you are, I want to be with you. I will find work again and so will you. And we will always have each other.”

Dropping one hand, he slides it into Azriel's. "Let the journey begin. I love you and I can't wait for a future with you."

Stepping outside, they are embraced by the night, hidden in the shadows of the city that is going to sleep. They don't know what awaits them in the future. In Romania. At the train station. They don't know if police is waiting for them. They don't know how dangerous the journey will be. But they will try. Whatever it needs to find true happiness. 

the world offers itself to your imagination,  calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting (Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)

Harsh and exciting - just like the journey ahead of them!

azris tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @honeysuckle-daydreams13