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#apologies for taking so long to get to this! march has been quite the busy month for me but
spshipstats · 2 months
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What are the stats on all the Damien ships?
Hi anon! Here's the stats on all the Damien ships from v1.0 of the survey which ended with 154 responses.
Kyle Broflovski x Damien Thorn
7.79% of people ship it
92.21% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
16.67% think it's popular
25% think it's uncommon
25% think it's a rarepair
33.33% have never heard of it before
Kenny McCormick x Damien Thorn
25.97% of people ship it
74.09% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
15% think it's popular
27.5% think it's uncommon
47.5% think it's a rarepair
10% have never heard of it before
Tweek Tweak x Damien Thorn
12.99% of people ship it
87.01% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
15% think it's uncommon
60% think it's a rarepair
20% have never heard of it before
Henrietta Biggle x Damien Thorn
20.13% of people ship it
79.87% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
32.26% think it's uncommon
51.61% think it's a rarepair
16.13% have never heard of it before
Damien Thorn x Christophe "Ze Mole"
18.18% of people ship it
81.82% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
7.14% think it's popular
28.57% think it's uncommon
39.29% think it's a rarepair
25% have never heard of it before
Damien Thorn x Gary Harrison
10.39% of people ship it
89.61% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
18.75% think it's uncommon
37.5% think it's a rarepair
43.75% have never heard of it before
Damien Thorn x Pip Pirrup
55.19% of people ship it
44.81% of people don't ship it
of those who ship it:
80% think it's popular
17.65% think it's uncommon
2.35% think it's a rarepair
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hqbaby · 9 months
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eight — sorry, my bad
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fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader
you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.3k content. swearing, sexual conversations, short sex scene with vaginal penetration
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“Ouch,” Hinata says, stopping behind Atsumu. “Man, that must hurt.”
The blond looks over his shoulder, shirt in hand. “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?”
They’re in the locker room, getting showered and dressed after a day of long and gruesome training. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Bokuto hadn’t shown up late and drunk, causing his team to lose the scrimmage and pissing Sakusa off. There was a bit of a squabble after that, but they managed to get it together in time for the next match.
“He’s talkin’ ‘bout yer back,” Aran snickers. “Rough night?”
Atsumu squints, trying to understand what they mean by that. Then it hits him. “Oh,” he says, eyes growing wide. “That.”
Yaku comes up behind him to see what the other boys are talking about. “Holy shit! Y/N did that?”
A few lockers over, Suna freezes at the sound of your name.
“Hey!” Oikawa’s piercing voice cuts through everyone's chatter as he marches his way over to the other setter. “Quit talking about my best friend with these jerks.”
“I’m not!” Atsumu throws his hands up innocently. “Blame Hinata. He’s the one that pointed it out.”
The other boy pulls a face as Oikawa turns to look at him with a fire in his eyes. “I was just worried about Atsumu!” he insists, backing away slightly. “I mean, come on. Look at what she did to him!”
Your best friend scowls but looks at Atsumu anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees it—sees them, all his previous anger washed away. Oh fuck, he thinks. The poor guy.
“Atsumu, I am so so so so so so sorry,” he says, ignoring the freaked out look the other boy has on his face at Oikawa’s sudden change in demeanor. “She’s a demon, I’m telling you. Satan’s spawn. I’ve been telling her mother since we were twelve that her real daughter must’ve been kidnapped and replaced by a monster because…”
Suna sees the marks on Atsumu’s back. Clearly yours. He knows because he’s been blessed with the same ones on several occasions and teased by his teammates about them to no end. Of course they never knew they were yours. No one knew.
He looks straight ahead at the open locker in front of him, quietly putting on his shirt and taking his bag out.
This shouldn’t bother him. It doesn’t, he tells himself. It really doesn’t. You’ve slept with other guys before, he knows that. You’re allowed to. It’s not like he can stop you. It doesn’t matter, none of it does, not when you come back to him at the end of the day. Not when he gets to hold you long after those other guys are gone. Not when you always choose him.
He slams his locker shut and pops his earbuds in, waving at the boys who say goodbye to him as he leaves.
That’s probably why you were busy last night. Why you didn’t read his message as soon as he sent it, like you usually do. Why you texted him back with a slew of apologies at 1 AM. It was all because, last night, you chose Atsumu instead of him.
Of course you did.
He feels pathetic. What did he expect was going to happen when you started seeing one of his best friends? Atsumu doesn’t hide you the way he does. He deserves more from you than Suna ever will.
He pulls his phone out and shoots a text. 
Fuck, he really hates himself right now.
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“Explain.”
You perk up at the sound of Kaori’s voice, smiling as she approaches you on the bench. “Explain what?” you ask sweetly. “Love your hair today, by the way.”
She narrows her eyes at you. “Yeah, yeah. Cut the crap.” She gestures at the three marks on your neck, there are two small ones that you would've gotten away with if not for the giant one beside them. “What are those?”
You keep smiling. “Curling iron, curling iron, allergic reaction,” you say, pointing at each one as you assign their causes. “Sucks to be me, I know.”
“Y/N.”
“Kaori, I love you.”
She groans. “What happened to ‘no marks’?”
“Well, this was the first time with this guy,” you say sheepishly. “Didn’t exactly tell him the rules.”
“First time?” Kaori raises a brow. “Was it…”
“Yeah…”
“Oh fuck!” she exclaims. “Okay! What the fuck? And you didn’t tell us?”
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
Yukie comes up to the two of you, drawn into the conversation by your screaming. “What is it?” she asks. “What’s going on?”
“She slept with Atsumu!”
“What? And you didn’t tell us?”
You pout and put your face in your hands. “Oh my god, could you be any louder?” you say. There are a few other girls in the room, but it’s not like they don’t know about you and Atsumu at this point. And you know more about their sex lives than you probably should anyway, so it all evens out. But still.
“Dude,” Kaori says, kneeling down in front of you and forcing you to look at her. She opens her hands in front of her and makes her palms face each other, holding them an inch apart. “Tell me when to stop,” she tells you, slowly moving her hands away from one another. She pauses when they’re four inches apart. “Bigger?”
You nod, feeling your face heat up as she continues moving her hands. She stops again. You wince. “Bigger.” With wide eyes, she increases the distance between her hands until you say, “Stop.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
Yukie gapes, staring at just how far apart your other friend’s hands are. “What the fuck.”
Kaori drops her hands and bows down in front of you, Yukie following suit. “You’re my new god, Y/N,” she says. “Fucking beast, I’m telling you.”
You roll your eyes and grab their arms. “Get up,” you say as the two of them resist you. “I’ll make you do laps if you don’t. I’m serious.” They know you're (probably) not serious but they get up anyway, sitting down on the bench beside you. Sometimes, you’re happy to be captain. Power is one hell of a drug.
“Was he good?” Yukie asks. “Like on a scale of one to ten.”
“Eight?”
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t know!” you throw your hands up in defeat. “He’s just… nice. And, I don’t know, I think I’m starting to like him a little.”
“No way! You have a crush on the guy you fucked?” Kaori asks sarcastically. “It’s like that’s totally never happened before!”
You frown. “Rin doesn’t count.”
“Oh, baby,” she says, smirking, “he always counts.”
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Suna throws his head back, hips thrusting uncontrollably as he feels his orgasm creep up on him. His breath is ragged as his whole body starts to tense up. He can feel it, he’s so close.
“Fuck! I’m right there!”
“Come for me, Rin!”
“Feel so good, so good. I’m coming! Fuck! Y/N!”
He cum spills out into the condom as his whole body freezes. His eyes shift down to the girl beneath him who looks up with an awkward smile on her face. He’s such an asshole.
“It’s Ayame,” she says meekly as he slips out of her. She sits up with her legs pulled to her chest.
He takes the condom off and knots it before tossing it into the trash. He stays on the edge of the bed, back turned to the girl. “Right. Ayame,” he murmurs, “sorry.”
“It’s alright,” she tells him and he knows she probably means it. She’s one of those girls who would do anything for him. It’s why he texted her in the first place. He knew she’d say yes to whatever he asked for. “It’s Y/N L/N, right? I mean, she’s really pretty. Everyone wants her.”
A dry chuckle. “They do, don’t they?” he says quietly. He glances back at the girl and shrugs. “Sorry,” he says again. “My bad.”
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notes. this was honestly one of my favorite chapters to write in the whole series 😩 like we have some atsumu and reader silliness with their friends AND suna angst??? all the things i love writing <3
if you haven’t seen the results of the poll from last chapter, you can find them here!! totally not what i expected but ykw i’m not complaining
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here2bbtstrash · 6 months
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as promised, here it is: The Big Life Update Post (aka m where the hell have u been and what the hell is going on with this blog)
TLDR: went thru it, came out better for it, i love y'all. and we're getting back into this writing thing as i have the time and capacity 🥳
2023 has been a bit of a whirlwind, to put it very mildly. while the first three months started off relatively smoothly, my saturn return began in the middle of march. only a few short weeks after that... well, i'd basically say everything went off the fucking rails.
content warning: drama talk incoming ft. extremely brief mentions of racism and racist hate mail (no specific details shared).
i haven't spoken on this yet since everything happened, and i want to be explicitly clear that i won't be speaking on it further after this post. but i just want you to understand where i've been at since april.
i will own it entirely and say: i fucked up. i put content in a story that i shouldn't have, that i had no business speaking on, and i think people were well within their right to call me out on it, one hundred percent. however, after i went offline at the end of april, my friends ended up learning that the person who initially stirred up all of the "tea", and submitted the first several anonymous posts about me to a hate blog, was actually someone i knew well and considered a friend.
this was someone whose stories i gladly beta'd, someone i consoled through multiple hard moments in their life, someone i actually even met in person. yep. this was also someone who had read the chapter of my story that featured the problematic content when it was released, and proceeded to send me paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much they enjoyed it, and the story as a whole. this is not to say that people can't change their minds on content after sitting with it, not at all. but to think that i had been through so much with this person, done so much to be there for them, and that they never once gave me any reason to think we were anything other than close friends. yet ultimately, they didn't feel they could come directly to me... or find quite literally any other way of dealing with the issue?
instead, they chose to send multiple messages about me to a hate blog, as well as hateful anons to several of my friends, thinking that we wouldn't know it was them (we did). not only that, but their actions encouraged an actual torrent of racist hate mail to be sent to all of my non-white friends who publicly chose to support me. ultimately, they ended up admitting all of this, and still, they never once apologized or showed even a single iota of remorsefulness or responsibility for the onslaught of vitriol they incited. (even though, you know, this whole thing was supposedly about how racism is bad.)
and this user is still on the platform, operating under a new blog name and pseudonym. so. that's fun. 💀
i don't say this to beat a dead horse, or to drum up sympathy, because i promise i don't want it. it's been long enough, i understand the mistakes i made, and i've done my part to take accountability for my actions. but i needed to start this post here to have you all understand where i was at the end of april - just in time for yoongi's tour 🤪 - in many ways, i felt like i had no friends, at least none that i could really trust. i felt unsure who might have been acting one way to my face, perhaps even praising me, but talking different about me behind my back. and it was beyond fucking nervewracking to think that i would be meeting so many friends IRL for the first time, quite literally days after what essentially felt like a public execution.
i wasn't doing well, to say the least.
and then... the funniest thing happened.
y'all showed the fuck up for me. in droves. in a way that i have quite literally never experienced in my lifetime and doubt i ever will again. even recounting it now is lowkey giving me chills. i received, literally, yes i counted, hundreds of DMs from the most incredibly kind people- on tumblr, on twitter, on discord, in AO3 comments. the vast majority of you wrote paragraphs: about what my stories have meant to you, about how you found my blog to be a safe space in the noise of the world, about how much you'd enjoyed our time together here. so many of you said something along the lines of "even if you never come back here again, please keep writing". honestly, for like a week straight all i could do was read my DMs and cry and cry and cry.
i didn't receive a single hateful DM. not one.
as if that alone isn't more blessings than i deserve in an entire lifetime, i also, you know. saw five shows of agust d on tour. (my credit card is still recovering.) spent two of the best nights of my life in pit getting a water bottle baptism and screaming myself hoarse. and met dozens of incredible moots, who held me when i cried, scream-laughed with me, and of course, drank plenty of booze with me.
at a time where i wondered to myself if i even had a single true friend in this fandom (or, like, in the world), you all showed me that i had so much more. that we had so much more-- we had a community. and i believe we still do. and i am more than ready to block out all the shit that doesn't matter and get back to having some fun around here.
in short: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. if you sent me a sweet word, i promise you, i read it (and probably cried lmao). i wouldn't be doing any of this without you. i will never ever deserve all the love that you have shown me. but for as long as you'll have me, i'd love to have a fun stupid horny time in this little corner of the internet. as a part of our community. what a fucking gift it is. 🫶
phew. okay, so- that was april and may. it's november. what the fuck happened?
i knew i wanted to properly take time to get my head on straight before i found my way back to writing. what i wasn't expecting was to 1. fall in love, 2. get a new job, and 3. move myself and my cat approximately 800 miles across the country... but yeah, since the end of may, those 3 things are exactly what i've been doing!
i won't talk too much about my partner here, because our relationship is important enough to me that i want to keep it largely private, but my god. he is the most incredible human. i can't tell you how much of what i wrote out as silly little daydreams in my fanfiction has somehow manifested itself into this very real human being (like, it's kinda crazy lmao 🙈). i'm grateful for him every single day. and what makes it even more special is that we met for the first time in person while i was traveling for yoongi's tour - yep! he saw me going through so much upheaval, and fell for me all the same. just another thing i will never fully believe i deserve. but goddamn do i feel luckyyyyy 🥰
and in addition to my amazing partner (and in part because of him but honestly i had plans to move before i had even met this man it just happened to work out okay 🙄) i have also finally managed to do what i've been planning for the last year and a half, which is move my ass out of the southern suburbs where i'd been for nearly a decade, and to a ✨walkable city that actually has public transit✨ - what a fucking dream. i may have only been here 8 days, and i may not have much more to my name than my cat, my TV, and my mattress, but i swear to god, i've never been this happy in my entire life.
so yeah. exhale. like i said, it's been quite the year.
now i do want to end this with a small caveat, which is to say, i can't make a promise as to how much i can *be* here (particularly not compared to how terminally online i used to be lmao). i spent a lot of time online because i was unhappy and feeling very stuck with where i was in life, and i needed escapism, bad. now, i've finally gotten to a place where i'm excited to go out of my house and do things, but i still want to make intentional time for tumblr as a form of connection and community, and writing as a form of creative expression. these things are really important to me!!! i just ask that you give me some grace if i'm a little slow on the uptake. i promise i'm still here 🥰
and writing is gonna happen!!! i can't say much more than that, because tbh i haven't so much as opened a google doc since april, but i've been itching to get back to it. maybe.... we might start off....... with some........... drabble requests??? 👀 we'll see we'll see we'll see hehe.
in any case, i think that's more than enough for now 🤪 oh how i've missed babbling to you all, the gay people in my phone. i hope you're well, and if ya feel so inclined, i'd love it if you'd send me a comment or a DM on what you've been up to in the many months it's been since we've spoke! what's new in your life? what are we manifesting??
talk so so soon, eeeeee~ i'm so happy to be back~ love you babes!!! 🤍
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karahalloway · 11 months
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Sleepless in New York: Chapter 10 - Darkfall
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Series: TRR
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.
Masterlist: Sleepless in New York
Chapter Summary: Drake tries to navigate a rough night...
Word Count: 5,300
Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, angst, obsessive-compulsive exercise, sexual fantasy, masturbation)
Chapter theme song:
A/N1: Sorry this took soooo long to get out! As per usual, real life has been exceptionally busy, so I haven't had as much time to write as I'd like to.
A/N2: This is also my slightly belated submission for World Whiskey Day, hosted by @drake-walker-appreciation, and the prompt that this fits with (more or less) is 'The whiskey burns my throat like her absence burns my soul.'
A/N3: I just realised that this kinda (maybe?) qualifies for the @springfeverpitch event that was on this week (Apologies! There are a lot of events on at the moment!) In any case, this would count as domestic x home run I guess 😅
Chapter 10 - Darkfall
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I kick the covers off with an irate growl.
Un-fuckin'-believable...
After the shitshow of a day I've had, I should be running on fumes.
And I am.
Yet for some reason, I’m not able to nod off. Despite the fact that I've been on the go since 6am and have barely gotten any shut-eye the night before.
Because my body’s apparently a sucker for punishment and doesn’t seem to know when to quit. And even though I know I desperately need the recharge, I also know that staying in bed’s gonna achieve nothing 'cept hypertension.
So, swinging my legs out onto the carpet with a tight-set jaw, I reach for my phone.
02:18
I run a heavy hand through my hair.
The hell am I gonna do for the next six hours?
My eyes land almost unwittingly on the ragged shirt-tail peeking over the edge of the trash can.
I rip my gaze away with gritted teeth.
No. Absolutely fucking not.
It’a bad enough that I walked out on Gale without so much as a half-assed explanation. I ain’t gonna compound my dick-like behaviour by showing up at her door in the middle of the night, demanding to pick up where we left off.
Especially not after everything I've already subjected her to today — getting her fired, burning her in front of her friends, pulling her into a fight, dragging her on a forced route march 'cross town, and then literally ripping the shirt off her back. And, if that isn’t bad enough, I topped off her night by dumping the proverbial clutch on her when I should've been taking her for the ride of her life.
I swallow painfully. No. That ship had definitely sailed...
Which means it’s high time to take my own fuckin' advice and get her — and this entire mess of a day — out of my head.
No excuses.
And since the overpriced mini bar had let me down, I’m down to my only alternative — running myself into the ground.
Pushing myself up with a resigned exhale, I trudge over to my duffle. Reaching in, I extract the exercise shorts and t-shirt that always forms part of my go-bag, no matter where I went. Because you never know when you’re gonna need to blow off some steam. And going for a run’s a damn sight healthier than disappearing down the neck of a bottle. Even if the latter’s a helluva lot more convenient.
Throwing the clothes on, along with some socks and my well-worn trainers, I turn back to the bedside table to grab my phone and gun...
...and catch sight of the shirt again.
Motherfucker.
Jamming the phone and the Sig into my pockets — it always pays be prepared then be left holding your dick when shit inevitably hits the fan — I march over to the bin and yank the accursed thing out.
Scrunching it up, I turn on my heel, and stomp out of the room, snatching the keycard up on the way. Wrenching the door open, I let it bang shut behind me as I head down the corridor.
I cannot catch one goddamn break tonight...
Reaching the lifts, I briefly contemplate calling one. But given that I’m already wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, I know I won’t be able to stand the wait, no matter how brief.
So, I divert instead to the fire exit. Pulling the heavy door open, I throw myself into a jog and take the stairs upwards two at a time.
I guess I could've just as easily gone downstairs. But I don’t trust myself not to wind up at Gale's brownstone again if I hit the streets. Which means that the only place I can conceivably go is to the top-floor gym.
Which — all things considered — is probably the better bet anyway. Because going for a jog in the dead of night around the City That Never Sleeps is a risk not worth taking. And even though Central Park’s less than a block away, it’s not actually an option, given that (a) it’s shut overnight, and (b) it isn’t the best lit, and I don’t particularly feel like getting jumped by a knife wielding yahoo, or twisting an ankle on an uneven path.
Plus, I'd have to be a monumental idiot to even think about leaving Chris unattended again. Not that I expect to him go anywhere at this hour — except maybe all the way with Hayley. But I’m not about to make the same mistake twice in one day.
Christ knows I paid for it hard the first time 'round...
I feel my legs start to burn as I continue to climb relentlessly. But knowing that this is exactly what I need if I’m to have any hope of catching some zzz's tonight, I ignore the discomfort and push myself on.
Arriving on the 25th floor, I pause on the landing to catch my breath. But the short burst of exercise has merely thrown me a second wind. I still have a long way to go if I want to waste myself completely.
So, moving over to the stairwell door, I pull it open and step into the gym. Given the lateness of the hour, there's not a soul in sight, and it's just me and the view.
But there’s one thing I need to take care of first.
Locating the changing rooms, I head inside. And before I can think too much on it, or change my mind, I stride over to the dirty towel hamper and chuck the ruined shirt in...
...and dump a few towels on top of it for good measure.
Dead and buried.
Spinning quickly around, I exit the way I'd come, focusing my attention on the row of TechnoGym treadmills that face out onto the distantly twinkling lights of Harlem in the north, and not on how twisted my guts feel all of a sudden.
Picking a machine, I pull my phone and sidearm out of my pockets and place them onto the console so they won’t bang against my thighs as I ran, but still remained within reach in case I need them.
Taking a deep breath, I step resolutely onto the belt and hit go on a program at random.
The pace starts off sedately, barely faster than a speed walk. Reaching up to the console, I tap the speed up impatiently, not wanting to waste time on a warm-up I don’t need and most definitely don’t want.
I’n here to burn rubber.
The motor kicks into a higher gear, but it's not enough. Even though I’m now at a steady jog, my heart rate's barely above resting and I've yet to break a sweat. Not to mention the fact that my mind’s still fixating on the very thing I need to flush out of my system.
Gale, legs spread and head thrown back, moaning my name...
Raising my hand with a growl, I slap the panel again... and again... and again... until the belt is a blur beneath my feet and I'm pelting it like a demented bat outta hell.
The sudden speed forces my body into overdrive. My chest expands, my focus narrows, and my blood begins to pump in earnest, trying to supply my body with oxygen faster than it was being consumed.
I fall into a breakneck rhythm, limbs pumping to the rapid beat of my breath in a desperate effort to stay on the treadmill.
In... In... In... In... Out... Out... Out... Out...
The minutes and the miles tick past on the screen in front of me, but I barely register the stats. I'm too busy chasing oblivion...
...which remains stubbornly out of reach.
Because even as I push myself to the limit and my lungs start to burn and my muscles start to cramp, I can't escape her. She's still there, hazel-green eyes dancing on the edge of my awareness, the honey scent of her hair tickling my senses like smoke on the breeze.
And even as my vision begins to swim and the relentless pace pushes me to the verge of puking, I don't let myself ease up. Because that would be an admission of defeat and I’m not the type to quite that easy.
Not when there’s so much on the line.
Because beyond the fact that I let myself become consumed by a girl I barely know — an unhealthy and unsustainable hang-up that I need to nip in the bud, pronto — my continued preoccupation also ended up endangering Chris' life tonight.
And that’s inexcusable.
Not only is the guy the heir to a fuckin' throne, but he is my best — and arguably only — friend. And I let him down, both personally and professionally, by allowing myself to get distracted, just because a pretty set of legs had walked by.
And while I somehow managed to salvaged my colossal fuck-up, and we all walked away tonight without any casualties, I probably won’t m be able to pull a miracle like that out of my ass every time.
Nor should I expect to.
Especially not during the social season, when Chris is going to be constantly in the spotlight, shaking hands, being interviewed, always in an exposed setting. All it would take is one moment of distraction, one second of lost focus, for someone to pull a gun, to slip through the crowd, for our worlds to come crashing down.
And I’m not gonna let Chris — my brother — down like that.
I can’t.
So, doubling down, I dig deep and continue to pound the vestiges of my frustrations, my failings, and my regret relentlessly into the treadmill, the hard and fast staccato of my feet against the machine echoing around the otherwise empty space.
I have no clue how long I run for. Minutes? Hours? It makes no difference. Every wheeze feels like my last, every exertion a desperate attempt to break free of the purgatory of mistakes I trapped myself in.
And still I push on. Until I hit the proverbial wall and collapse against it, my vision blurry, my limbs shaking, my clothes drenched.
I stand there for what feels like eternity, feet straddling either side of the machine, the belt still whizzing at breakneck speed beneath me while I cling to the console like a life-line, trying to catch my breath.
And eventually my heart-rate slows, the buzzing in my ears clears, and I regain enough coherence to lift a hand and slap the treadmill off.
Pushing myself up to a standing position as the machine whirls to a stop, I wipe the sweat from my eyes and glance at the screen in front of me.
10 miles. 56 minutes.
I scoff wryly. Well, fuck me if that ain’t a new personal best... Who knew that self-pity could be such a potent motivator...?
Exiting the menus, I grab my stuff and move to step off the machine... only to very narrowly avoid face planting into the floor.
Oh, shit...!
Grabbing the console, I shake my head to try and clear the sudden nausea.
Christ, I feel awful...
My eyes land on the water fountain and I lurch towards it like a drunk out of a bar. Because that’s exactly how I feel like — sluggish, light-headed and stumbling around like a newborn calf. Which is no surprise considering I've just run the best part of half a marathon as if the Devil himself had been after me, having consuming nothing but two bottles of beer beforehand.
Apparently I do hate myself.
Managing to make it to the far wall without any incident — just — I lean over the dispenser to inhale the cool stream of water, nearly making myself choke in the process.
But I know I need to rehydrate myself, otherwise I’m gonna be in a world of pain in a few hours' time. So, after overcoming the initial shock to my system, I force myself to loosen up on the pace and start taking longer and slower gulps.
Having finally satisfied my body's cravings, I let go of the dispenser button to run the back of a trembling hand over my water-soaked mouth.
Sweet Jesus, I’m a mess...
I can’t remember the last time I pushed myself this hard on a workout.
But then I've never felt this way before... Like I’m an idiot, like I missed the pass, like I’m stuck in a maze with no way out.
And even though the hard run had managed to clear my mind, that latent feeling of... something is still there, writhing just beneath the surface, like an unscratchable itch under my skin.
And maybe it'll never go fully away. But I’m not about to give up without putting in a damn good fight.
Pushing myself up, I turn towards the pool. And even though I haven’t brought any swim trunks with me, my feet are already pulling me towards the siren call of the water.
Because if there’s one thing that’a guaranteed to set me right, it’s a full-body dunk.
Arriving at the side of the pool, I peel my sweat-soaked clothes off, leaving only my boxers on for the sake of modesty in case someone happens to walk in.
Taking a breath, I step out over the edge and plunge straight in.
The sting of salt hits my nose — not the same flavour as the Med, but then no pool’s ever gonna compete with that — as the water envelopes me and I let myself sink below the surface.
I hit the bottom and the echoey silence settles like a blanket around me, soothing my senses, taming my pulse.
I've always loved the water. Even before I could walk, I'd make a butt-shuffling beeline towards the end of the beach where the waves crashed onto the shore, unveiling a treasure trove of crabs, seashells and shiny rocks.
Of course, Mom'd been terrified that I'd get swept out to sea, or drown. So, to appease her fear, Dad had started taking me to swim lessons — first at the local therapy pool, but graduating quickly to the higher classes in the lap pool as I learnt to float, hold my breath, and leap off the diving board, all by the age of three.
From there my obsession only grew. I joined the school swim team, the water polo team, and even got certified as a lifeguard over the course of one summer. In short, I spent almost as much time in the water as out of it.
And then Chris introduced me to sailing.
At first I couldn't see the appeal of drifting around the Med on a sofa-sized boat when you could be swimming in it. But I've never been able to say 'no' to my best friend, so when he insisted I join him for a spin around the marina in his new Wayfarer one evening, I'd begrudgingly said yes. And had become instantly hooked. The speed, the technical precision, the feeling of flying over the water — it was all addictive.
Jack Sparrow'd had it right when he'd said that a ship is not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. Because even though those things are integral to the make-up of any craft, what a ship — or yacht, or catamaran, or any other vessel — really is, is freedom.
And for a restless 14 year-old, there was nothing more attractive than ditching the world to hang out with your buddy in the middle of the ocean, free of worries or adult supervision, just enjoying the endless view while you fished and talked about nothing in particular.
Of course, being teenagers, we were bound to get ourselves into deep water — quite literally. Which is how we ended up deciding that it'd be a great idea to take out a much larger sloop one evening... only to end up paying for that mistake when a storm decided to roll in out of the blue, catching us off guard and capsizing our craft.
And while that particular misadventure had ended up turning Chris off sailing once and for all, it had made me even more determined to get back out onto the water and obtain my ICC license. Which I did, the following summer.
And even though I no longer have Chris to share my maritime adventures with, my love of sailing — and of being out on the water — never diminished.
Because the sea is — and always has been — my personal haven.
Feeling my lungs start to itch from the lack of oxygen, I reluctantly open my eyes and kick back up to the surface.
But I don't feel like returning to dry land just yet.
So, drawing a quick breath, I stretch myself out and dip into an easy freestyle. Half-a-dozen strokes and I reach the edge of the pool. Diving down, I flip myself around to kick off the wall, resurfacing into a backstroke.
I repeat the pattern for about ten laps, enjoying the rare sense of peace that comes with gliding weightlessly through the water, strokes moving effortlessly in time with my breath.
Eventually, though, I’m forced to call it quits as my body finally runs out of steam and my rhythm starts to falter.
Grabbing onto the edge of the pool, I pause to catch my breath, arms and shoulders tingling from the exertion...
...and I suddenly realise that I'm starving.
Which, all things considered, is hardly surprising. The last time I had anything to eat was at that Midtown stake-house at dinner-time, which was over eight hours ago. And since then I've probably burnt through 800 calories' worth of pure stress, not to mention all the physical exertion I've put myself through. So, my blood sugar levels are shot.
Pulling myself out of the water, I pad over to the other side of the pool to collect my gear.
I briefly contemplate having a shower, but quickly ditch the idea on the basis that (a) I hadn't brought a change of clothes with me, and (b) I can’t trust myself not to go rooting for the ruined shirt that I ditched in the changing rooms earlier.
So, brushing off the worst of the water, I head straight for the lifts.
I’m not expecting to cross paths with anyone at whatever time in the morning it is. And if I do... well, they can suck it up. It's not like I’m walkin' around buck-ass naked.
Arriving back on our booked-out floor, I make my way to my room. Fishing the keycard out of the pocket of my shorts, I let myself in and flick the door closed behind me.
Dropping my exercise kit by my duffle, I locate the 24-hour room service menu and do a quick scan of the options.
A couple of items jump out at me, but knowing that I'll probably have breakfast with the guys in a few hours' time, I don’t want to have anything too heavy.
But then my eyes land on the cheeseburger, and before I can think twice about it, I've reached for the hotel phone and I'm putting the order through.
And even though I tell myself that it's because I never got to finish the one back at the dive bar two nights ago, I know that I'm lying to myself...
...so, I add a bottle of whiskey to the order for good measure.
Because I don’t want to blow up all my hard work by falling back into the same emotional sink hole that I only very narrowly managed to drag myself out of just now. So, I need something to distract myself.
Hanging up, I quickly sort my sweaty clothes out and stow them in the duffle before making my way into the bathroom to have another shower.
Once done, I throw on my jeans and a t-shirt (not bothering with socks or underwear) and flick the wall-mounted TV on to find something to pass the time with while I wait for the food to show up.
Not seeing any movies or series that particularly interest me, I eventually settle on a rerun of an old Pats game...
...but I find my mind wandering.
And it doesn't take long for my treacherous sub-conscious to dig up the very images that have been stalking me all night.
Gale, up in my face out on the club balcony, testing my limits and my sanity with that sassy smile of hers...
Gale, head thrown back and ass pressed up against me as we move to the techno-beat on the crowded dance-floor...
Gale, legs wrapped around me as her nails rake over my skin, fighting to get my shirt off as my tongue invades her mouth...
I groan despite myself, shifting uncontrollably on top of the covers...
...and realise that I've already lost the battle.
Shit.
My eyes land ruefully on the tell-tale tent pole straining the front of my pants.
I huff out a tight exhale.
If there'd been one thing I wanted to avoid tonight, it’s this...
Because I know that as soon as I dip a toe in that particular Rubicon, I’m screwed. And not in a good way.
Because when you've been continuously pushed to the edge, only to be yanked back each and every time from the precipice of release, a plain ol' wank just isn’t gonna do it.
Sure, jacking one out relieved the immediacy of the pent up need. But it’s never gonna hold a candle to the real thing. In part because it’s over in minutes and in part because cumming into your own hand feels about as satisfying as throwing yourself a one-man pity party.
Because sex is a team sport. And trying to run a solo play — when you know what the real thing feels like — is always gonna fall short of expectations. Because when you’re on your own, there’s no one to share the thrill with. To kiss, to tease, to fuck to the limit before letting go so you can finally implode into each other.
Which is why I'd tried my damnedest to exhaust myself so I wouldn't find myself in this situation. At least not until we were back in Cordonia, and I could avail myself of some options...
...'cept now I don’t have a choice.
Not unless I want to greet the bell hop with a raging hard-on...
Because unfortunately for me, my dick has apparently decided that it'd had enough of being baited, and is now gonna bend me over the barrel to get what it wants.
Regardless of the fact that it’s gonna be a massive let-down for both of us.
So, even as I try to shift my focus back to the Pats game — and sideline my ever-growing erection — all I manage to achieve is an even more persistent itch in my pants.
Because despite my resistance, we both know that thanks to the missed opportunity with Gale, chances are good that I’m not gonna find anything resembling decent satisfaction until after the Masquerade Ball.
As even though we'll be arriving back to a Palace teeming with all manner of women — from maids to staff to nobles — that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be casting a net. In fact, just the opposite. I’m not the type to shit where I eat (it causes too much unnecessary mess) and I learnt my lesson about fucking aristos the hard way.
Which means that unless I’m planning to shell out for a call girl — hell'd have to freeze over first — a self-administered hand-job is gonna have to tide me over until there’s a big enough gap in my schedule that I can get away from the Palace for a couple of hours and find some stress relief.
I heave a low breath. Fuck my fuckin' life...
But knowing that I've backed myself into a corner, I reach resignedly for my belt. Unhooking the buckle, I fling it to the side to expose the top button of my jeans. Snapping the fastening open with one hand, I yank the zip down with the other.
The denim falls away and my dick springs free of its confines, its rigid length snapping to attention like an overeager hound that has just caught a scent.
And even though this particular outing isn’t gonna end in the long, hard run we both know we need, that doesn't stop the damn thing from drooling like a mutt in anticipation.
Setting my jaw, I shove my jeans down over my hips, half-heartedly wishing I had some lube or something to try and improve this runaway train-wreck as I reach south...
...and groan out loud as my hand wraps around the warm shaft.
Goddamn...
I’m apparently more deprived than I realised. Though, I guess that shouldn't come as a massive surprise. Especially after the near constant edging that Gale subjected me to tonight, combined with the fact that it's been a good two weeks since the last time I managed to eke out time for a fuck. And that had been mediocre at best.
As if to emphasise the point, my dick bucks against palm, and it's clear that I have a lot of mitigating to do.
Sliding my fist firmly down, then back up again, I set about stoking up a rhythm. And even though it's nothing different to what I've done hundreds of times before, something about the familiar friction sparks an instant fire in my veins.
Maybe it's 'cause I’m exhausted... Maybe it's 'cause my mind’s a mess... Maybe it's 'cause I've gone cold turkey for too long...
But whatever it is, it’s sending me into a tailspin.
I feel my head tip back against the headboard with a low moan as I'm pulled rapidly under by the throes of my self-gratification.
And as my eyes shudder closed in the face of the rising tension, I give myself up to the darkest depths of my desire...
...and in a blink of an eye, I’m back in that cramped apartment, gazing up at Gale from between her legs, the imminence of her climax written on her face, the slickness of her arousal coating my mouth and tongue.
I groan into her as she grips my hair, urging me on with her increasingly desperate pleas, her body quivering above me as she careers towards the edge...
...and I’m suddenly possessed by an all-consuming urge to have her.
Shooting to my feet, with her legs still wrapped around my shoulders, I send her sprawling back over the top of the kitchen counter.
Because I know that we don’t have much time, and if I’m gonna make this happen, we need to do it hard and fast.
And I’m not gonna let myself disappoint her again.
Grabbing her by the waist, I yank her towards me. Her hazel-green eyes widen in shock as her ass dips over the edge of the counter. But my grip on her is unshakeable and she's not going anywhere.
Not yet anyway.
Not until I've fucked her six ways 'til Sunday, and even then I probably won’t let her leave.
Because this girl sets me on fire like nobody else, and I need her to burn with me.
Bending down to give her decadent folds one more self-indulgent lick, I steady her with one hand while I rip my belt and jeans open with the other, not able to take my eyes off her as she writhed before me.
"Drake...!"
The sound of my name slipping off her lips like a fervent prayer unleashes something feral inside of me. Something I didn't even know existed in the dark recesses of my soul. Something that instantly swallows whatever vestiges of rational thought I have left, leaving only one, single-minded purpose:
To make her mine.
And in some corner of my brain I know I should be terrified. Of this rabid hunger that she's unwittingly awakened within me. Of the fact that I can’t control it... and don’t want to.
But I'm already past the point of no return. And I can’t give a rat's ass.
Because the only thing I care about is fulfilling that unspoken obsecration of hers until she’s ruined for all other men.
Shoving my jeans and boxers down with a growl, I grab her hips and ram myself into her in one, brutal motion.
Her wet heat engulfs me, taking me fully, causing my eyes to roll back into my head as I revel in the sheer euphoria of her, her deep-throated cry of agreement rising up around me.
Christ, she feels amazing!
And if the mere act of being inside her doesn’t already feel like pure rapture, she then decides to up the ante even further.
"Fuck me, Drake," she demands, arching her lower back forward.
A guttural sound rattles my throat as she rolls her hips against me, cranking up the torsion as she pulls me in even deeper.
And I could've lost it then and there.
But somehow — whether through sheer force of will, or by the grace of God — I manage to tamp down the rapidly rising swell in order to heed her command.
Because this isn’t about me. This is about her. And I’m gonna make damn sure that she gets what she wants before I let myself cum inside her.
Even if it kills me.
Opening my eyes, I meet her hazel-green gaze with an affirmative smirk. "Yes, ma'am."
She wraps her legs around me expectantly...
...and I slam us together roughly, loudly, unapologetically.
She gasps beneath me, hands flying to the edge of the counter to grip it like an anchor in a storm, her entire body reverberating with the impact of our collisions.
But I don't stop. I can't. I pound into her like a man possessed... because I am. All semblance of logic, of reason, of God-given sense has evaporated and I devolve into the basest version of myself, one that is driven purely by lust and instinct.
And even though I know I won't be able to hold out, that I'll cave in the face of her rhapsodic screams and the almost painful pressure she’s putting on my dick, I'm powerless to pull the e-brake. If anything, it makes me rev the throttle even harder.
Because she just feels too damn good, and I've been at her mercy from the start.
Lifting my head, I lock eyes with her. And in those lust-blown, hazel-green depths, I see more than just need... more than just passion.
I see complete faith.
And it undoes me.
I explode into her with a ragged, animalistic cry, my body jerking with the force of my deliverance.
"Holy... fuck!"
The long-coveted wave of release crashes over me, wiping away my thoughts and my vision, and I'd be convinced that I passed out were it not for the high-pitched ringing in my ears and the thundering of my heart.
A few more pumps, a shuddered breath as the last swell rises, and I’m left drained, floating.
I stay there, motionless, revelling in that all-too brief moment of calm before the chaos of the world spins back up around me.
Sweet Jesus, that w—
Her warm lips brush against my sweat-streaked forehead, her honey-camomile scent drifting over me like a drunken haze...
I move to lean into her. "Harp—"
...but she's already gone.
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The story continues in Chapter 11 - Cold Light of Day
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Picture Credits
Insomnia - Dawn - New York - Run - Swim - Drake - Pool
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I do not dislike Michelle Keller, formerly Michelle Lasso, but I do dislike how the series and most fans either refuse to criticize her or defend her.
I understand that fans, esp women, are compelled to defend Michelle because she’s a woman and women are overly criticized and dragged unnecessarily at times. I get that. However, there would be think pieces about Michelle is she were Michael. And I truly hate this current trend of pretending everything is different when it’s a woman involved.
It’s quite strange how people are so sad for Ted being made to feel like he’s too much—hmm, I wonder who made him feel that way—and are rooting for him to have a happy ending with someone who accepts him as he is. Then when you directly criticize Michelle, it’s a ton of excuses about how separation/divorce is hard, Ted wouldn’t be transparent with her, and so forth.
While this is true, intentionally or not, Michelle still hurt Ted in a major way. And, I don’t know about you all, but I believe you should still apologize for hurting someone even if it wasn’t intentional.
Michelle became short tempered with him and had an issue whenever he tried to do things for her. While her reaction wasn’t malicious, there’s nothing wrong with, “hey, I know you meant well. I just—it’s hard being around you and having this life with you when I don’t even feel like I know you. I shouldn’t have lashed out. You didn’t deserve that.”
Boom!
This NEVER happens.
Michelle never has to take any accountability for the things she’s down, which we know has a major effect on Ted. Essentially, people are arguing he deserved that treatment all while saying, “poor Ted.”
Michelle making Ted feel bad for saying “I love you.” I understand Michelle was going through her own shit, but Christ! Would we defending her if the genders were switched? I’ll need to rewatch the episode to really dig into that, but it felt unnecessarily cruel even if she didn’t intend for it to be so.
Someone will correct me on this, but Michelle and ted separate in February and by March of that same year she’s pushing for ted to sign divorce papers. It’s not like he’s a busy man or anything??? Literally most divorces, esp considering how long they’d been married, take a while to happen. Ted fucking granted her the divorce without her even asking and was kind about the entire thing and Michelle is pushing for a divorce within the month.
Is that not strange?
I honestly think this was just a bad writing choice, but my God, I can’t imagine the discourse if Ted was a woman—Thea. And how “Michael” would be dragged for that and people speculating that either they were cheating or wanted to be with new and different women. Not even accounting for how some would relate to “Thea” and how their ex did them dirty.
But again, we can’t talk about that. No matter how fucked up that was, NOPE!
And this recent shit. I don’t even know.
I don’t know if it’s a case of poor writing or not because I don’t think the series is going to go there. Meaning I don’t think the series is going to say Dr. Jacobs groomed Michelle. But let’s keep in mind that he was her therapist originally, and then their marriage counselor. He was the one who fueled Ted’s dislike of therapists and always sided with Michelle. I don’t think Ted even felt like he could be heard.
When Dr. Jacobs realizes it’s Ted, he freezes as if being caught. As if he was cheating with Michelle. Even Michelle is acting suspicious as fuck. There’s no, “I didn’t want him to find out about this, he may take it hard.” It felt like they’d both done something they were supposed to be doing. Both come off as guilty as hell.
Do I think the actually had an affair?
No.
Or maybe it was an emotional affair.
But people love to skip over the shit Michelle does (or inadvertently blame Ted) and it’s fucking annoying. Not necessarily because they don’t pay attention to her, but because the discussion around her behavior when they actually engage with it is either brushing off what she does or defending it.
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dearestxiao · 10 months
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Hey I just wanted to ask and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfy but what happened to saekogun? I missed your #junesdegeneracyau and then I found out everything disappeared which was weird bcs I recall seeing ur blog in like March 2022
hi there nonnie... omg wow it's been such a long time since I've actually posted on this blog. thank you so much for the concern and to anyone else who's asked about me.
to give a quick tldr as to what happened with saekogun exactly: I took a break from writing right around a point in my life where I was both very busy, and slowly becoming more and more happy. the break turned out to be much longer than I thought it would be, and I one day decided to get rid of saekogun. my mental health has improved immensely, and I just wanted to say hello again.
I will start this off by saying I am very much alive and well. at the start of my first semester last year I decided to take a break from writing so that I could focus on my classes and internship and... just about everything else life had in store for me. it was initially supposed to be a short two week break, which is why I had initially never posted about it. but as more and more time went on, big (good) things kept happening in my life, and I had felt as if my mental health had additionally improved being away from tumblr. I decided that, for the sake of my mental well-being, I would not return for quite some time until I was fully stable enough to do so.
tumblr was a really weird source of turmoil in my life back then, which is kind of funny to say now that I look back on it (it sounds sooooo unserious, I know I know). I never talked about this openingly on my blog, but I did struggle a lot with my mental health, especially as someone with bpd. during the time that I wrote for saekogun, I had consistent and heavy episodes and mood swings. I knew no one else with bpd nor did I have someone I could talk about it with, so I felt a bit alone.
I felt very alone in my struggles and used tumblr as a sort of crutch and aid and it helped. immensely. but it also hurt me in different ways. I treated tumblr as a big responsibility in my life and it felt like I had a full time job as a content creator. I'm also neurodivergent and my executive function issues were beating me up without remorse. this was at a point in my life where I really did not have time for running my blog, but writing and interacting with the lovely following I had generated felt great. it was just too much for me though unfortunately, so I decided to move on.
I decided that I would keep the blog up running so that people could still enjoy it in my absence. however, one night after thinking on it for months I decided to just get rid of it. it sounds odd, but now that I was healing, that blog was just too representative and tied to a bad era of my life for me to want it to keep existing. so I banished it into the void, never to be seen again.
a lot of stuff has happened between now and then. to keep things short and sweet, I'm a lot happier now. I won't say things are absolutely perfect, because not everything can be of course, but I feel as though I've healed and grown. some amazing things have happened and for the first time in years I experienced true joy for a very long period of time. I'll stop myself from rambling before I get too cheesy and corny. but just know that it fr does get better y'all. I'm so glad I've lived long enough to a point where I can confidently say that.
I have a lot of regrets when it comes to saekogun. I definitely was not the best blog runner. I was constantly behind on asks and projects and I made lots and lots of mistakes when it came to my posting schedules and how I handled asks. I had so many asks that I never got to and made so many promises I couldn't keep. for that I deeply and utterly apologize. I do wish that I had done better and am sorry to those who've I disappointed. I thank everyone who had took the time to send something in and put time and energy into my blog.
another regret I have is not saving the color blue before I had gotten rid of the blog. that story is unfortunately lost to time itself since I don't have any portion of it saved. which sucks because if there was anything I'd continue to write about here from my old blog, it'd be that, but I have no access to it now.
I'm also sorry for anyone I have worried in my absence. I really should have made a post sooner, but I honestly had no idea what to say. I didn't know how to come back, and the longer I took to say anything, the harder it got.
I am beyond grateful for everything you've all had done for me, and for sticking around and checking up on me, and for enjoying my content in the first place. I cannot put into words how much it means to me for people to have cared about my silly little degenerate posts. from the bottom of my heart, I seriously thank you all. I also thank my sweet anons, old mutuals, and any followers who are still here.
now, onto the big question: will I ever write for this blog again? the answer is... iffy. I often fantasize about being able to write again, but the truth is I'm not into genshin anymore whatsoever, which is an issue since my primary fandom was always genshin. at some point after sumeru's initial release, I was simply just not as into the game anymore, and was too busy to actually sit down and play. I have no idea what's going on lore or game wise, and anything thats happened fandom wise either.
unfortunately, I'm not interested in getting back into genshin, so I'm very sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for more content like what I used to create.
however, I love writing. and I'm still really into yanderes and dark fiction as a whole. but I'm currently not into any fandoms that I think people would really be interested in so I don't think I have much to offer in terms of content. so for now, it's a... maybe? I guess we can talk about that as time goes by.
this is absolutely not to promise I'll actually be back though. I'm not sure if I'd be able to run a blog still to be honest, atleast not consistently. but I would love to drop by and post a little something every now and then and talk with you all.
thank you all once again, and thanks to whoever read this entire mess of words. listen, I'm rusty okay 😔
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{Sonic the Hedgehog/Juniper of Ebon} "Juniper & Haily's Cosy Bathtime Fun" For © KatarinaTheCat [Collab by © Lightninblade1994] (R-15+)
[It was a quiet evening night at Ebon, where everyone in Echidna Town is as pleasant as always, going about their daily business like they always do. Haily Ranna was in the middle of enjoying her bath at this moment, while the warm water soothes her whole body as she emerges, showing only her head and upper half which appears to be dripping wet after a long soak with only her lower half partially submerged. She then let out a sigh of relief. This wasn't the first time she felt like that ever since she and Andrew felt such peace and joy in their lifetime after defeating Lancelot for the past few years. although, she can't help but feel that something was on her mind. she started to think back to when things used to be quite simple back then, back when she and Andrew actually became so close, much to the dismay of Lancelot, who was probably in his much younger years. She then gently closes her eyes as she slowly starts to sink deeper into the warm water with only her hair partially submerged while she soaks there for mostly a whole hour. Just then, Juniper Ebonywood; who had just finished her duties as high priestess, begins to settle down for the night as she marches on to the royal bathroom with nothing but her bathrobe on and a few towels just to prepare a bath for herself. Juniper then proceeds to enter the room, only to find Haily Ranna, still soaking in the tub at this rate, then looks at her as she starting blushing red , much to Haily's surprise. As Juniper looks on with much embarrassment, Haily then gleefully smiles, who is quite happy to see Juniper again ever since she became the high priestess of Ebon, which had been a long time ever since they last saw each other, thinking that she might require some company herself, wanting to share the tub with a bit of company at the moment.]
Juniper:[flustered] What th--??
Hailey: Hello there, Juniper. It's been a long time, hasn't it?
Juniper:[blushing] Not nearly enough, I suppose.
Haily: You like what you see?
Juniper:[still blushing] S-sorry about that. I-i didn't realize that you were in the bathroom recently. I didn't mean to barge in like THAT.
Haily: It's alright. You're the only one here anyway. We're all girls. So there's no shame into that.
Juniper: Oh, right... I knew that. Sorry.
Haily: No need to apologize, dear. Oh, Do you wish to use the tub too? Don't worry, there's enough room for two as it is. Would you care to join me?
Juniper: *chuckles nervously* Y-you're kidding, right...?
Haily: C'mon, you've seen us at the hot springs before. This here is the best way to settle down after a long evening. I'm sure you've must be tired, having to be in the temple after all these past few hours. It must've been a lot of work for you even until now. You deserve one yourself. I insist.
Juniper: Err... No thanks. I'll just wait until you're finished with your-- whatever it is you've been doing there.
Haily: But you've been out all day, not to mention all the tasks that you were require to do. And I must say, meeting you here has actually been a most pleasant turn of events. It's been a long time since you and I last bonded, and we have so much for us to discuss!
Juniper:[still blushing red from before, but says nothing.]
Haily: Besides, It's not like you actually bathed with an actual woman that one time, has it not?
Juniper: Well. I guess so.
Haily: So, what brings you here all the sudden?
Juniper: Oh, you know... Just thinking about how different it all feels being back on Ebon somehow, how I've missed so much back then, how different things used to be... it's been so long since I've left my home back on earth, It's still gonna take some time to get used to this stuff.
Haily: Well, I'm sure I can help you out with that, if you would like to keep my company for a while, that is.
Juniper: Thank you. but-- I can still find some other ways to make a living here if I going to spend the rest of my days on Ebon. This is actually new territory for me.
Haily: That could be arranged. For now, it's girl-bonding time! So, hop your butt right in, cutie!
Juniper:[blushes a bit, but shrugs it off] *Sighs* Alright, then.
[Juniper then begins to remove her bathrobe, leaving her fully exposed as she proceeds to enter the large bathtub and joins Haily finally. Afterwards, Both Juniper & Haily begin to giggle, which leads to them splashing each other just like any kid would. Then, they take a moment to settle down as Juniper goes under for a good soak, but then rises back up at the very last second now fully refreshed, Haily does the same thing, then rises up again, With both of them now partially submerged and dripping wet, but also refreshed. Haily breathes a sigh of relief, But is interrupted when Juniper squirts some water onto her. Juniper chuckles, Then Haily ponders gleefully.)
Haily: So, what do you think about being back on Ebon?
Juniper: What do you mean by that?
Haily: Well, You've been on Earth for a long time now. Heck, you've hardly even recognized yourself at first when you came here. Andrew must've filled you in on the details, did he not?
Juniper:[leans back a bit] I don't really know. To be honest, Growing up back on Earth, I wasn't really sure where I came from after having to grow up in an orphanage for all these years. Yet, my memory seemed kinda hazy, at first. Mostly because I wasn't really from around that place at that time. But here, it's... Different.
Haily: You've seemed to know a lot about that world more than you can imagine.
Juniper: I do, actually.
Haily: What's it like living on that world?
Juniper: A bit tough, but intriguing otherwise. I can't really say for sure. I've learned a lot ever since I was transported there as a baby once. for once, I didn't really know about that place until know. The only family that kept me around for so long was Mrs. Gray that raised me once. Plus, there were my brothers; usually some friends that I could rely on in order to keep me company. So, I guess living there was really worth the shot. It was thanks to those guys that I was able to keep going, no matter how tough things got. Can't say it was THAT easy back then. But, what can you do?
Haily: Mrs. gray really seemed like a nice lady. She's must've worked really hard to raise you as her own. You should be really fond of her to have around these days.
Juniper: Yeah. I know.
[Haily smiles as Juniper lies back to rest, only to raise her right leg out of the tub in a more comfortable position]
Juniper: So, how'd you and Andrew meet exactly?
Haily: Beg pardon?
Juniper: I mean, you and Andrew have actually known each other for a long time and now that you two are married, well... Maybe it's about time you've told me on how you guys met for the first time?
Haily: Ah, yes. That does take me back apparently. It was much to tell, really. I'm guessing you could say he might've went on heels over me ever since our first encounter that day. By what Andrew saw on that, his face must've turned red when he first met me. You could tell by his reaction that he was quite the shy type at first. Maybe because he couldn't resist my irresistible charm. So, when he came to ask me to dance with him that one night, I can't tell for sure he was already blushing red. It was kinda cute, actually. Not gonna lie. Unfortunately. I had to turn him down. so he asked me again, and I said "No". But, he was a persistent little fella, I tell ya! So, after much persuasion, I've said to him: "OK, but just one dance". and before you know it, He went nuts over me! it was actually love at first sight! I guess my charm might've worked on him after all.
Juniper: Well, that's... quite a lot to take in.
Haily: I thinking you've dealt with stuff like this before, haven't you?
Juniper: Yup. About multiple times I have. I mean, for starters, you got: Randy, Harold, Mikey. *shrugs* ...Butch.
Haily: Those friends of yours must really be quite the handful, the way I put it.
Juniper: They really are.
Haily: --Especially with that "Butch" guy.
Juniper: Well, Butch is great and all. But, sometimes... there are some days where can be wreckless at times, especially when he teases people, like me, for example. I mean, It's bad enough that he does it to show off, especially when he's around other girls. But mostly, it's due to his character, nonetheless. He is a bit of a blockhead, sure, and there are times when he can get over his head. So, he's pretty much all we got. even if he can a bit of a jerk most of the time. I should know.
Haily: It's true. Some guys do think with their muscles besides their heads mostly. I guess that's something we have in common more likely, even when it comes to guys like that recently.
Juniper: I know, right??
Haily: Certainly :)
Juniper: Oh! That sorta reminds me, I got this neat bath bomb that I wanted to try out. Apparently it's hidden in one of the towels. I'll fetch it myself.
[Juniper steps out of the tub for a moment and goes to find the bath bomb that's hiding beneath one of those towels. She then sees the bath bomb hiding in one of the towels, then bends over to pick it up only for Haily to watch on as she starts to blush softly.]
Juniper: Ah, Here it is! I've thought I left that somewhere.
[Juniper then proceeds to make it back to the tub, still dripping wet from before, then sits for a while, only to show the bath bomb that she's holding.]
Haily: That's quite an Interesting Doo-Dad. What does that do?
Juniper: It's quite simple, actually. You've just place it in the center of the tub in front of you. and-- [gently drops the bath bomb as it begins to fizz] Then, the real magic happens...
Haily: Ok. I'm not sure if I feel anything, except-- [starts to feel the effect of the bath bomb] Oh! there it is... *starts shaking with contentment as the effects tingle her skin* Oooh! Now, that feels good ^///^ Aahh X3 [feels a bit of bliss as she starts sinking down in the tub more.] I tell ya, I never got used to this kind of stuff until now ;)
Juniper: Yeah, Doesn't get much better than this. How's the water, btw?
Haily: Still nice, Which I can say the same thing about that new Doo-Dad that you've brought. Really adds a nice touch to it.
Juniper: I'm glad to hear it. [steps right back into the tub, only to feel the effects herself) Whoo! That does feel nice. I'm glad I've paid for those things. Honestly, I don't know where I be without them.
Haily: *snickers*
Juniper: What's so funny?
Haily: You sure have a funny way of showing how you do things around here. even when being around other women. That say a lot about your character
Juniper: Umm, yeah. sure.
Haily: Did I say something wrong?
Juniper: No, it's nothing. It's just that... after all this time, the way we've handled ourselves when we were facing Lancelot & Hiretsuna, You and Andrew must've been through a lot recently. The last thing we really needed was for Andrew to lose you as well. He must've been really desperate to save you ever since-- *sniff*
Haily: Juniper, I'm so sorry.
Juniper: No, it's fine. Just a thought that crossed my mind, that's all. No biggie.
Haily: I understand. You just wanted to be there for him, just like he was there for you.
Juniper: How did you know about that--?
Haily: When I first heard that you were coming back to Ebon, I had hope, hoping that you would take your father's place as high priestess and carrying on the Ebonywood legacy. Of course, that was the only thing that matter the most. Having to see you again after all these years is what brought Andrew back to his senses. Without you, All of this would've been for nothing.
Juniper: :3
Haily: Now, why don't I just wash that back of yours just to make things more easier? Would you mind fetching me that cloth towel and soap there?
Juniper: Sure thing. [emerges out of tub to get the cloth towel and soap, much to Haily's curiosity]
Haily:[thinking to herself] Hmm, she sure does take after me in the beauty department.
[June sits back down as Haily starts scrubbing her back with the soap and towel.]
Haily: Would you like me to wash your lower back?
Juniper: Sure thing. Haily.
[Juniper emerges up a bit, with only her upper half while partially submerged, Haily continues to scrub her gently]
Haily: Can you sit back forward a bit?
Juniper: Absolutely! [lowers herself a bit as she sits down an inch, enough for Haily to scrub there more.]
Haily:[blushes a bit] Y'know, I must admit that you are certainly growing into a very, beautiful young lady. [rinses Juniper's back] There we go. Alright, Do me next.
{Juniper does the same thing, only for Haily to watch from behind as she feels a sudden bliss within her.}
Juniper: How long have you guys known each other for?
Haily: Not much, Just about a few times. Why do you ask?
Juniper: Nothing, just asking, is all.
Haily: I still can't believe after we got back from Lancelot's castle, Nobody had expected something like this!
Juniper: Yeah. I mean, It was obvious that everyone was waiting for this right moment, wasn't it? [rinses Haily's back]
Haily: Of course! it's quite obvious!
Juniper: Speaking of which, Thanks for letting me come to the palace to stay for the whole week.
Haily: Anytime, dear priestess.
Juniper: And I also wanted to thank you for being there for me and Andrew for when we've need help the most.
Haily: Ah, don't flatter yourself. You would've done the same for me anyways, which was actually considerate for you. I have a feeling you're going to fit into Ebon just fine.
Juniper: Haily...
Haily: Yes, dear?
[Juniper then begins to hug Haily out of sheer happiness, then clings onto her with so much content, joy and heartfelt emotions pouring out of her as she continues to hug her, crying silently out of happiness, an emotion that she hasn't felt in a long time since her she left Earth, knowing that she won't have to carry out this burden alone anymore.]
Juniper: Thank you... for everything. :')
{Haily then proceeds to hug her back, also shed a few tears of joy herself.)
Juniper: *ahem* So, where were we?
Haily: Oh, right? You were just going to tell me about your amazing adventures on Ebon?
Juniper: Yeah, that-- or maybe we can we one to other things, like how my is definitely where you're about to GET SPLASHED!! (splashes on Haily; who seems to enjoy it)
Haily: Oooh, Ohoho, Now you've done it! [splashes back at Juniper] Ha, Gotcha!
Juniper: Eek! *giggles* Cut it out! [continues splashing on Haily.]
Haily:[splashes on Juniper} Yah! Take that! [keeps gets splashed on by Juniper]
[Both start laughing as they continue to splash each other for a whole hour, without anything to interrupt them. Well, maybe until next time, that is.)
-The End...For Now-
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tiikerikani · 1 year
Text
I think I’m gonna cry
2022 Dec 03 – Lallintalo, Köyliö
One of the merch ladies was like "HEY IT'S CAPE LADY" when I showed up. Does nobody else actually wear this thing?? It also seems like they still haven’t sold all the blue ones for some reason.
I bought the new poster and a hoodie. I even brought a poster tube from home so it’d be safe getting back to my place. I’ve been hemming and hawing about the hoodie for a while but there were discounts on all the merch because reasons so it was a good time to.
I caught up with Senpai at the reception and asked the burning questions:
Did the letter I gave to him in Joensuu back in March in any way inspire them to add Kirottu yksinäisyys to the set when I saw them again two weeks later?
(I had thought it highly unusual since it was an older song that I had otherwise not heard them play, and it disappeared from the list as quickly as it had appeared.)
[paraphrase] ”I remember we talked about [the letter] after that performance. [usual apologies about being busy and not having written back]”
(I’ll take that as a yes.)
Are the posters because I asked?
[not paraphrase] ”Yes.”
He REALLY did not need to do any of this for me.
He also said that the one date in June that got cancelled had to do with the organizers misunderstanding their requirements (or something like that).
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I gave him the illustration that I had brought with me to Lahti. I had since spruced up the wrapping by putting a tiny bouquet of paper roses on it (I am very NOT subtle).
It occurs to me that I didn’t chat with any of the other members before the show but I'm not sure what I'd want to talk to them about.
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I’ve never been to a live auction so that was kinda fun to experience. I made somewhat perfunctory bids on a few things. I bid 100 on the vinyl I wanted but the pair of blonde fangirls outbid me so I let them have it. (They seem very ... close with the band? At least with Heini, since I've seen them engrossed in conversation with her at least twice.) I already have the poster to put on my wall (outside the covered shrine), even though it’s not my favourite photo. Blonde fangirls also dropped some 260 (I think?) on a pair of hats.
While I wish I had the kind of disposable income to give a hundred or two to charity, everything that Senpai has done for me means so much more than owning a piece of one-of-a-kind band memorabilia.
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Unlike the other time there was a warmup act, I've actually heard a few of Mikko Harju's songs on the radio, so I wasn't completely out to sea. At one point he wanted to know from how far people had come to be here, and the one guy from the gaggle shouted he was from Germany so of course I had to join in and it all took Mikko a bit by surprise :P
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So I guess by extra-long set they just meant 20 songs instead of 18 so there weren’t any real surprises except for the acoustic arrangement of Meissä asuu elämä at the start before the set proper, but since we were told they would play everything from the album, even that was only a half-surprise I guess. People on EPIC FAN BUS didn’t seem to know that the song (not the arrangement) HAS been performed before but I guess they’re not from Helsinki so they weren’t there when I heard it.
Maybe they should record an acoustic album???
Finally Senpai found different #1 fans to gesture at during the song. (But ok I’d already received 3 hugs from him during the evening and that is quite enough.)
People brought their own balloons for the balloon song.
At one point he threw his towel to somebody in front of him; I'll never quite understand the appeal of owning somebody else's piece of dirty laundry but ok
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The #foreveralone section
(Tumblr keeps eating the following paragraphs and I'm tired of writing it for the third time. I think it's the "read more" break that is, well, breaking it, so I'm removing that and sorry this post is long.)
The fanclub founder/admin was on the EPIC FAN BUS and she has SO much to say all the time. The van was packed and I was squeezed into the corner and while I was laughing along and reacting to the conversations I could hear, nobody asked for my thoughts so I did the one thing that always turns heads and started singing. (It wasn’t great because I was cramped there and was going acappella.)
It didn’t make any difference, even though people know me as that foreigner with the covers and there are some FAQs I expect to get related to that. Several of the people were friends and family so of course they had plenty of chatter. I’m not certain but I might have been the only one in the van travelling not only alone but not being friends with anybody. I hate having to say aloud that I would like to be included in the conversation, because it seems rude, but we’re all here with at least one common interest that we all have individual opinions and stories about, come on.
The gaggle guy doesn’t speak Finnish, yet people seem to know him and talk to him, so I’m not taking that as an excuse. Heck even I gave him a drive-by high five ("foreigner party!!") at one point. But then, he’s been fanning for much longer, and is a bit flamboyant/recognizable (the gaggle had matching Santa hats with name tags, which (the hats) I understand are merch inspired by a song from a much earlier album. The name tags are velcro and sometimes appear on different hats). But time also doesn’t change anything if nobody ever approaches you to begin with. 
The line is
Sun täytyy luottaa ja mun täytyy tulla sua vastaan
Which I take to say that you have to put yourself out there (and I do) but others also have to make a move.
People probably know me as Cape Lady and I sometimes go around and wave to people I recognize (for example superfan couple and the blonde fangirls) and sometimes they do that to me. But when I go to shows it still often feels like I exist as, like, more than a face only to Senpai. And I don't know if he notices this or only because my second letter was about this.
// Meissä asuu elämä
Ei voittajaa
Rodeo
Korkeapaine
Turunlinnan muurilla
Nuoriherra
Nena laulaa ilmapalloistaan
Älä lopu yö
Kolme hyvää vinkkiä
Kuka nyt tahtoisi
Kukaan ei koskaan
Tummilla teillä
Wallander
Faarao
Pitää sanoo ei
Ei se rakkaudesta mitään tiedä
Onnellinen mies
Arlandan portailla
// Kohti sydänpeltoja
// Turisti
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The Rest of Our Lives, Part 7
TW: Verbal Abuse, TW: Child Abuse
In the early hours of the morning on March 31st, Finn remained restless. As Butterscotch sleeps, Finn sits up and gets out of bed. He throws his robe on, and grabs his phone before making his way from their shared bedroom to his backyard.
He had found his mother’s phone number online, and had it saved in his phone for if he decided to make that dreaded phone call. This was the only way he was going to find out the truth. All he needed to do was make the call, and ask his mother if the rumor was true. If it wasn’t, he could put it to rest and focus on his wedding, which was coming soon. If it was, he could ask who his real father is, and potentially contact him.
Finn takes a deep breath…before pushing the “call” button. His heart begins to race as he hears the ringing tone. Then it drops slightly when he hears the familiar voice for the first time in 97 years.
“You have reached Margaret Reed. I am unable to come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I might call you back. Thank you.” The voice says.
Once that message tone went off, Finn gulps before speaking.
“Hello…mother. This is Fi-...Phineas…your son. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve talked, and…you’d probably prefer it that way. But I got a really disturbing phone call from Mary recently, and there’s something I really want to ask you. But I…I understand if you’d rather not speak. Um…bye…” Finn hangs up, before looking out at the night sky. It was unsurprising that Margaret didn’t answer the phone. Not only was it rather late at night, but not many people these days answered the phone for numbers they didn’t recognize. Plus, Margaret was always a busy woman…she probably got dozens of voice mails a day.
At this point, all Finn could really do was wait and see if Margaret would call back. It was possible she never would, in which case, Finn could at least say that he tried. He sighs softly, before turning back to the back entrance of his cottage-
His phone starts ringing. He blinks, before looking at it…his heart skips several beats in fear when he sees her name. She was calling him back already!?
He answered the phone swiftly. “H-Hello?”
“Phineas, darling! It has been so long since we’ve spoken! 97 years after you abandon your family, and you finally think to give your dear mother a call?” Her French accent is thicker than Finn’s, but unlike Finn whose voice was as sweet as honey, her voice was shrill, and struck fear in his heart.
“I…apologize for losing touch.” Finn says softly.
“No matter…we actually all forgot you even existed for quite some time! Honestly, we’d love to get back to that…so let’s get this call over with, yes? What is it you wanted to ask me? It’d better be important if you’re calling me this late at night for it…”
Finn hugs himself, before taking a deep breath.
“Mother…Mary gave me a call recently and told me about this rumor that’s been going around since I was born. I simply wanted to ask if the rumor was true…and then I’ll get out of your hair, and you can go back to pretending I don’t exist…”
“Well? Out with it, then.” Margaret demands.
“Mother? Did you…have sex with another man while you were with dad? And follow up…is that man my biological father?” Finn asks.
It’s quiet for a moment…then Margaret laughs.
“God, it took her calling you for you to finally figure that one out, huh? You really are stupid. Please…anyone with two eyes could tell William is not your father! Why do you think he was so dismissive of you? Well, other than the fact that you’ve always been the biggest failure in our family.” Margaret laughs, her voice is careless and cruel.
Finn isn’t even focussed on the insult. His heart stops completely, and he feels like he’s in a dark void. It was true!? This entire time, he was a product of an affair, and no one told him until NOW!? And why now!? Why after all these years is anyone from his family finally telling him this!? Was it simply because they saw that he was getting married, and they wanted to ruin this happy occasion by pushing him down? He couldn’t put that past any of his relatives…
“Now. Was that all? Or did you have more stupid questions?” Margaret asks.
“Uh! Yes…uh…is there any way you can tell me his name? Y’know, the…affair partner. I’d like to see if I can contact him in any way. If you can give me his name, that’d be nice…and we’ll never have to talk again.” Finn says softly.
“Now just a minute, son. If you honestly think I’m going to give you information like that so easily over the phone, you’re quite mistaken.” Margaret huffs. “It’s quite a long story, and I think you should know the full thing. Here’s the deal…you come back to the mansion in Mississippi. We’ll have dinner, catch up a little bit. Then, I’ll tell you everything you want to know…”
“Mother, I don’t want the story. I just want the man’s name…please.”
“Then I’m afraid I cannot help you…you either come here, or you’ll live the rest of your life never knowing who your real father is. Whatever you decide, I won’t lose sleep over it. But I know you will, unless you do as I say. Honestly, if you’re so afraid of facing me in person, then maybe you don’t deserve to know the truth. It’s your decision…but I’m not going to give you his name over the phone. Simple as that.”
Finn is trembling. His choices were to either live the rest of his life knowing that his real father is out there and he doesn’t know who or where he is…or face the woman who put him through so much Hell, that he couldn’t even breathe when he thought of her.
Butterscotch joins Finn outside, having woken up and noticed his absence in bed. When he sees Finn on his phone once again while shaking, he immediately knows that he is talking to his mother. The demon makes his presence known by placing a gentle and warm hand on Finn’s shoulder. Finn looks up at Butterscotch…before speaking again.
“Mother? Is it alright if I talk about this with my fiance? It’ll only take a moment…”
“Very well.” Margaret sighs.
Finn mutes the mic on the phone before lowering it, looking at Butterscotch with fear in his eyes. “Elliott…”
“Finn, honey, what’s wrong?” Butterscotch asks softly.
“The rumor is true…William is not my father…my real father is out there somewhere. But mother will not tell me his name over the phone…she says that if I want his name, I have to go to Mississippi and talk to her in person.”
Butterscotch blinks for a moment…before taking a deep breath and giving Finn a stern look.
“No.”
“Elliott, it’s either that, or I live the rest of my life never knowing who he is!”
“I can’t let you put yourself in close proximity with the woman who abused you. Put you through hell since birth, called you names, beat you, tried to force you to marry someone you hated. I can’t stand by and let that woman hurt you again!” Butterscotch huffs. “I’m sorry, but I’m putting my hoof down. That heartless wench can either tell you his name over the phone, or die in a blazing hellfire! We can find your real pa without a name if we have to!”
“Elliott…you know that’s not as easy as it sounds.” Finn says softly.
“I’m literally a demon that can track people through scent! I will sniff all over the world if I have to just to find a match! Don’t think I won’t.”
“Elliott.” Finn gives Butterscotch a serious look.
“...You’re right, that’d be stupid and time consuming.” Butterscotch sighs. “But is there really no way to convince her to give you his name over the phone?”
“Once my mother has her mind made up, it’s hard to get her to change it. It’s not comfortable…but going to Mississippi is the only way she’ll tell me anything.” Finn says, defeat in his soft voice.
Butterscotch thinks about it for a second, before sighing softly.
“Okay. We can go to Mississippi.” “...We?” Finn looks up at Butterscotch, his emerald eyes twinkling.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you deal with that bitch alone, did you? No…we’re getting through this together. I’ll always be by your side, baby…plus, I need to be there to protect you if she tries to put hands on you or something crazy. So I’ll come to Mississippi with you. I’ll buy plane tickets and we’ll be on the quickest flight there. We’ll get answers, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you get closure. You’re not doing this alone…”
Finn smiles softly. “Thank you, Elliott…that means a lot…”
The couple embraces. Once separated, Finn sighs before unmuting the phone’s mic and getting back on the phone.
“Alright…I’ll come to Mississippi. But you better keep your promise.” Finn says.
“You have my word! I’ll tell you everything you need to know, Phineas…how soon will you be here?” “As soon as possible…” Finn responds.
“Wonderful! See you then…”
Finn hangs up. Butterscotch places a hand on Finn’s shoulder.
“Now…we should get back to bed. It seems like we’ve got a big day ahead of us…”
Next Page
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twilight-orchid · 3 years
Text
How The Demon Brothers React After Fighting With Their SO
tw: some angst with resolution at the end, mentions of past arguments, insecurity.
Lucifer:
This man is petty as hell.
He doesn’t do the silent treatment, but he acts like you aren’t dating.
If you need to work on something together, you’re a co-worker.
At RAD you’re a classmate.
Around the house you’re just a housemate.
His poker face is immaculate and it will not crack when you’re around.
If someone didn’t know what was happening, they’d probably think you two barely knew each other.
However, you won’t notice, but as soon as you look the other way his eyes are on you.
He’s used to arguing with his brothers and is no stranger to explosive fights that end with he and the other person not being on speaking terms.
But you’re different.
He tries to go on with business as usual, but he can’t think about anything other than how much he misses you.
Yet, he lets it continue because he just can’t put his pride aside and apologize.
If you decide to sleep in your old room it’ll both hurt his feelings and royally piss him off.
He thinks you’re being childish and will be pretty rude about it, but that’s because internally his blood just ran cold.
It adds a degree of seriousness to the argument that he’s uncomfortable with.
Yes he’s mad, but he can’t lose you.
If you still sleep in his bed, he makes sure to scoot over to the very edge so he doesn’t cuddle you in his sleep.
In fact, the first night after the argument he’d probably put a pillow between you just to really punctuate the fact that he’s still upset.
I’d say it could go 4 days to a week tops without you making up.
After a point though, he just can’t function until the issue is resolved. He can’t sleep, he’s falling behind on his work, and he’s just generally not doing well.
You get called to his office one night and find him at his desk surrounded by piles of paper, disheveled and exhausted.
“MC, come sit down. I’d like to talk this through. Please.”
Mammon:
He’s so dramatic.
You dare defy him? The Great Mammon can’t believe this tiny fragile human would have the audacity.
The theatrics are just a front though.
His ‘The Great Mammon’ act is a mask for his insecurity, one he hasn’t had to use with you in awhile.
Even as the words leave his mouth he regrets them.
He’s going to be very uncomfortable with everything until the argument is resolved, but most of all himself.
He’s learned not to take his brothers too seriously when they toss insults his way, but words have a way of morphing to belief over time.
Internally he is going to be super hard on himself. 
Regardless of if the fight was his fault or not, he’s going to kick himself constantly for making yet another mistake.
He’s over the argument pretty fast. The anger quickly melts into anxiety.
Are you going to leave him? Do you hate him? Did he hurt your feelings? 
That being said, he doesn’t know if you’re still mad and he doesn’t know how to ask. 
As a defense mechanism, he defaults to how he treated you when you first arrived in the devildom.
Calls you human, disregards you, stuff like that.
If you decide to sleep in another room, before midnight expect him to be knocking on the door.
“Oi, MC. You awake? I just - I can’t - *sigh* Can we talk about this?”
If you sleep in his bed, he makes a point of sleeping with his back to you.
Less because he’s actually mad and more because he doesn’t want his image of you as he drifts to sleep to be a look of anger.
Though as soon as he passes out he’ll roll over and tuck you into his arms on instinct.
I’d say any after effects of an argument with Mammon would be resolved in a day, maybe two tops.
Leviathan:
Arguing activates his trolling the forums mode.
Goes back to calling you a normie and contradicts everything you say.
He’s less mad about the argument and more using the bitterness to cope with how upset he is.
He feels like a break up is less of an if and more of a when.
Why would someone as amazing as you settle for weird otaku like him?
Honestly doesn’t understand why you’re with him in the first place, so when there’s a serious argument he assumes its over.
Tbh don’t know how you and Levi would sleep together being that I doubt two could fit in a tub, but any deviation to your routine sends him into a panic.
It’s his reality check that the situation is serious and he needs to fix it NOW.
He’d have trouble apologizing in person. He can’t think of what to say, he stumbles over his words, and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack.
Instead, expect a long ass text message.
He says how sorry he is, how much he misses and loves you, and legit begs you to forgive him.
If you sleep with him like normal, he’ll probably try to make up after laying there for awhile. His mind is going a million miles an hour and there’s no way he can sleep.
Still really has trouble verbalizing how he feels, so give the poor boy a break and take over the conversation.
He hasn’t had a serious relationship before and he doesn’t know what he should do to make it better.
So the after effects will last however long it takes him to read several mangas, watch some anime, and play a few games to see how the characters get over arguments in the story.
Satan:
Satan makes sure not to fight with you over minor issues.
He’s worked tirelessly to tame his wrath and he refuses to feed into it over a minor issue.
Thus, if you fight with Satan it’s a major argument and it’s explosive.
The aftermath isn’t much better.
He doesn’t want to risk blowing up again, so he’s frighteningly calm.
He’s an absolute master of the silent treatment.
He won’t say a word to you until he’s certain he’s calmed down enough.
For the first few days he’ll straight up leave a room if you enter.
For a good while the only way you can expect to communicate with him is through his body language and the expression in his eyes.
Satan’s biggest fear is losing control and lashing out at you. 
He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you and he can’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him. 
He’s a whirlwind of emotions, so he isolates himself until he can figure out how to deal with it.
Not just from you, but from everyone else too. 
Satan will not share a bed with you for at least the first night.
If he got worked up enough to actually fight, it’s gonna take him time to simmer down.
And he’d rather not risk doing or saying something he regrets in the meantime.
Once he’s ready, he’ll approach you when he’s completely calmed down and has thoroughly analyzed the situation.
He’s considered both of your sides, tried to pinpoint what caused the disagreement to turn into a fight, and made a plan of action to prevent it from happening again.
“MC? I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what happened. Would you please talk it through with me?”
He won’t apologize for the argument if he feels like he was right, but he will apologize for letting the disagreement escalate into a fight.
Satan could go weeks without making up if necessary, but he tries to resolve it within a couple of days.
Asmodeus:
Wants to give you the silent treatment, but is physically incapable.
He can’t stand to have you ignore him.
He’s the type to go back to normal then suddenly remembers you guys had a fight.
“Wait, no! I’m not talking to you! I’m mad at you!”
His biggest downfall is that he’s so stubborn.
If he thinks he was right, he will die on that hill.
There are arguments with his brothers that happened a thousand years ago and he could still tell you exactly why he was right.
But with you, he realizes that doesn’t matter too him nearly as much as it usually does.
If it means going back to normal, he’ll forget who’s right or wrong.
If you sleep in another room, he’s beyond offended.
“What?! Well fine! I don’t want you in my bed anyway!”
Laying in bed alone is a different story though.
He can’t sleep. All he can think about is you. Your face when you sleep next to him, your smell, the feeling of his arms around you.
He 100% cries.
Finally goes and knocks on your door with wet, glossy eyes.
“MC? Can we talk about this? I can’t get my beauty sleep and my tears are wiping off all of my skin care lotion!”
Will throw himself into your arms before you can answer.
If you sleep next to him still, he rolls over and watches you sleep.
It puts him at peace and he decides seeing your sweet, resting face every morning is worth more to him than the argument.
He’ll initiate the conversation the next morning.
I think Asmo could make it a few days if it was a really serious argument, but he will not function well until you make up.
Beelzebub:
Wants to make up immediately.
He doesn’t like to argue, even less so with you.
Whether he was right or wrong, he blames himself. He’ll take all the blame in the world if it makes you happy.
He’ll go make you your favorite food and bring it to you.
If he thinks you don’t want to talk to him, he’ll leave it outside your door and text you to let you know it’s there.
He’s honestly devastated if you decide to sleep in another room.
You guys migrate to your old room when you want privacy from Belphie, but you almost never sleep separately.
Seeing you grab your pillows and march out of the room nearly stops his heart.
He goes completely numb and silent as he just stares at the space you had just occupied.
Like Levi, he thinks this means the relationship is over and he genuinely does not know what to do with himself.
He can’t even bring himself to eat, he just wants to lie there, lost and trying to grapple with his emotions. 
He’s another one who will absolutely cry, but unlike Asmo he will make sure no one knows it.
If you still sleep in his bed, he’s very nervous about it.
He doesn’t know if it’s okay to touch you, what he can or can’t say, stuff like that.
He just lays there stiff as a board not even able to close his eyes.
Honestly the fight would probably have to be resolved before bed. His anxiety just can’t take it.
I don’t think he’d initiate the apology. Not because he doesn’t want to make up but because his confidence is rock bottom in these situations.
He catastophizes and honestly thinks you hate him.
If you don’t initiate the apology soon, Belphie will. He can feel what his twin won’t say, and he knows Beel won’t approach you about it for fear of making it worse.
Belphie will lock you two in a room if that’s what it takes for you to make up.
Belphegor:
The embodiment of if looks could kill.
He won’t talk to you, won’t look at you, basically pretends you aren’t there.
If he must interact with you he’ll roll his eyes and sigh the whole time.
Tries to sleep through any interaction so he doesn’t have to deal with it.
He feels almost betrayed by the fight.
He thought the relationship was stronger than to have such a huge divide, so he’s really insecure about it.
After the first day, the anger has melted away to guilt.
He ‘s not guilty that you fought, but he is guilty about how he treated you after.
Guilt and self-blame have become unwelcome friends at this point. Guilt over Lilith, over his plans to destroy the human world, everything.
But more than anything else, the guilt for the fact that he attacked you weighs on him every day.
He moved past it quickly after, essentially pretending he hadn’t killed you, but that’s because he just couldn’t confront what he’d done. 
He feels like the luckiest demon alive that you forgave him, let alone  opened you heart enough to love him, and now it’s all in tatters.
Another thing to regret.
If you decide to sleep separately, it’ll hit him like a bag of bricks.
“You - what? Where are you going?” 
It’ll take him a second to process what you were doing, but then he’ll roll over and let you leave.
“Fine. Don’t let the door hit you.”
No one will see him for awhile. 
Belphie sleeps all the time anyway, but he just can’t make himself get out of bed.
If you don’t approach him to apologize, Beel will tell you that he’s been nauseous and randomly emotional which must mean his twin is coping very badly. 
Will beg you to go make Belphie happy again. 
If you sleep in his bed still, the argument will be resolved by morning.
He can’t keep himself from embracing you in his sleep, and it’s hard to say you’re mad at someone when you wake up in their loving arms.
It’s hard to pinpoint how long it could last with Belphie. If you don’t apologize first, he won’t let himself be conscious long enough to approach you.
This is both my first hc post as well as my first obey me post so I’m sorry if le boys are ooc. I just got this idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are.  Especially Belphie, he was hard to me for some reason. Let me know if you guys agree or disagree and if you want to send a request or ask, my box is open! 
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littlesniggy · 3 years
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Hi! Love your writing my dear ❤️ I was wondering if I can request head cannons with Marco, thatch, crocodile and Rayleigh with fem readers (separate) . They are having sexy time and then there crew mates walk in during the sexy time and fem reader is in a certain positions (any positions ) reaction from both parties.. thank you so much ! ☺️
Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting! This was a very interesting request and I enjoyed writing for them. I'm also a huge Rayleigh fan so glad to get a request for him this time!! I have no idea what Thatch was like since I never really cared for him (sorry) so I hope it somewhat fits what I wrote.
Warning: 18+, nsfw
Characters: Marco, Thatch, Sir Crocodile, Rayleigh
Marco
Marco usually has not that much free time to fool around with you but when he does it’s always quick but intense. He loves to make love to you even when it’s just a quicky and he is usually pretty careful as to not get caught. But even he can be forgetful, especially when your legs are wrapped around his waist so perfectly, giving him the perfect angle to drive his dick into you.
Neither of you hears how the door to the small room opens, too occupied with panting and quiet moaning. Your forehead rests against his strong shoulder and his hands are gripping your thighs tightly, pushing his member inside of you over and over again, the dirty sound of skin on skin filling the room.
It takes you two to realize your new audience simply because he is just standing there in shock, not knowing what to do. Ace always has something to say – just not right now. It doesn’t happen often that he catches the two of you in a compromising position; to be exact, it’s the first time!
But as much as he is in shock, you are terrified. I mean, it’s a pretty intimate position and most people like to keep this part of their life private. Marco is also shocked but it doesn’t take long for him to get his composure back. Good thing is, he is covering your body with his, so Ace doesn’t really see your naked form and he doesn’t really care that Ace sees him naked.
“When you’re done staring would you please leave yoi?” he’d ask, voice even and with no embarrassment. Is it awkward to face Ace after this again? Yes. Does Marco really care about it? Probably not and neither should you. Ace, however, will probably avoid the two of your for the next couple of days but it’ll go away.
Thatch
He’s a very open man when it comes to most aspects of his life and if both you and him would be okay with it he would have no problem someone watching (no sharing though!!). He likes to show you off to his crew mates, not in a tasteless way like “oh, look at how hot my partner is!” but rather in s more subtle way like moving his hands along your curves while he is talking to someone, diverting their attention to your body (you probably wouldn’t even notice he dies this on purpose sometimes).
I can also see him being the kind of lover to give oral rather than receive it. So, when the two of you are alone in a room, he probably coaxes you into allowing him to give you head, telling you that he wants to spoil you for no reason. In reality, it’s all just self-serving since he loves your taste and especially the sounds you make while he tongue-fucks you.
He likes to tease you a little while giving head and one of the things he does is have you stand on one leg, the other one is draped over his shoulder and you have to keep balance and not collapse onto the ground. He just loves to see your thigh quiver right next to his face.
This is also the position you two get caught in; him on his knees in front of you, his tongue eagerly fucking your core, one of your hands tangled in his locks and your mouth biting down on your other one to muffle your moans. So, given your position, you’re the one to see the intruder first and you’re horrified, to say the least. A loud squeak that sound unnatural coming from you in this position has Thatch alarmed and one quick look over his shoulder has him cover your body immediately.
“Don’t you ever knock before entering a room, Marco?” he asks, a small scowl on his face. Marco is not as shocked as Ace in this situation and he finds his composure rather quickly. “Sorry. Didn’t know this room was already occupied yoi.” He says with a grin before he leaves the room, not looking at you to save you from more embarrassment.
“Did it just turn you on when he saw us like this?” he asks, of course noticed you clenching around his tongue. This doesn’t deserve an answer and you push him down between your legs again, wanting him to finish what he’s started. You wouldn’t tell him weather you liked it or not – at least not yet.
Sir Crocodile
It would be very difficult to actually catch the two of you in a compromising position. Sir Crocodile is a man who likes to keep most of his live to himself, even Nico Robin doesn’t know half of it! So, naturally, he also only has sexy times with you in his private chambers. But there are times which are rare and far in between, where he lets you seduce him in a more ‘public’ area (still inside his private domain!).
In the contrary to Thatch, he likes to receive oral rather than give it and every time you seduce him in starts with you between his legs while he sits in a chair, smoking a cigar. He makes sure not to drop any of the ashes onto your head though. It’s dirty and nothing else. Plus, he doesn’t want you complain to him about it.
He loves hearing the lewd slurping sounds you make when you take him between your lips, the small choking sounds when you try and take him in even deeper and your small, muffled moans while you do. He can’t help but get turned on by it even more.
He probably knows that someone is approaching the door way before it actually opens – and he does nothing to stop you. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t like being walked in while you deep throat him but you just had to seduce him so you had to live with the consequences.
“Nico Robin. Can’t you see that I’m busy?” he asks in his usual dragged tone, a small simile on his lips. When you hear her name you instinctively try to get off of him but the hook on the back if your head doesn’t let you. He is not too keen on Nico Robin seeing his dick so naturally, he has you cover it with your mouth. You feel the heat come up in your face and you want nothing more than to just disappear but you have to sit through.
“Oh my, you should’ve told me that in advance. Now I’ve caught you two in a quite compromising position. I apologize.” You hear her say but you know she doesn’t feel one bit remorseful and neither does Crocodile. They have just a way higher tolerance for embarrassment than you do. When the door clicks, indicating she’s left the room, the man lets you come up again, letting you take in a deep breath. “Next time, maybe you should think twice about wanting to fuck you anywhere else but the bedroom.”
Silvers Rayleigh
Rayleigh is an open man and he rarely, if never, feels shame when it comes to his personal life. He doesn’t go around telling everyone about him and his sex life but if someone (he knows) asks or more likely wants to have some tips or advise he is glad to give it to them. When it comes to details about his sex life he is like a book with seven seals. He can talk about his experience in general but not what he does with you in the bedroom. It’s just common decency.
He loves to flirt with you on deck in front of the crew and he also kisses you from time to time but anything more intimate is reserved for the bedroom (or anywhere else, really). He’s quite some experience, even during his younger days. He doesn’t sleep around a lot but if he wanted someone, he usually got them. Because of this, he got to explore some kinks and his most favorite is you in blindfolds. It’s nothing special but it really does it for him.
He also likes the reverse cowgirl when you’re wearing the blindfolds. Given, he doesn’t see you wearing them but the knowledge that you’re completely relying on him turns him on. When he can hold your hips while you move on top of him, your ass always in sight; that’s just the best.
Just like Crocodile, he knows when someone is approaching the room but in this particular moment he wasn’t fast enough to bring you underneath him to cover you with his body and Roger just marches in, wanting to tell Rayleigh something. When he sees you two in this position, he’s already out of the room, not uttering a single word and Rayleigh has never been so glad that you were wearing blindfolds.
You’re confused as to why he stopped thrusting up into you. “Why did you stop?” you pant and he just chuckles a little. “No reason. Just appreciating the view.” He lies, not wanting to bother you with the thought of your captain not only seeing you naked but also you fucking yourself on Rayleigh’s dick. He knows Roger will never mention it and like hell he would bring it up. It will cause nothing but trouble
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bakugosbratx · 3 years
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NSFW 18+ Fingers — Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader
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Request: congrats on the followers! Can I get a shy reader horny for Izuku’s fingers?
Warning: 18+ content. Swearing, sexual content, female reviving, some bdsm, etc.
Check out my other works here
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A/N: So, I was a dumbass and accidentally deleted the request an anonymous user sent in along with the work I have done for it. I went off of my memory of what you said so I apologize if it isn’t correct! I hope it’s close to what you were looking for.
Words: 915
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Three weeks.
Three weeks since you have received any sexual contact from your boyfriend. Granted, the pro hero has been quite busy with work, but your fingers and sex toys just aren’t doing the trick anymore.
You are becoming a bit pouty over the neediness of your cunt. Your kisses are becoming shorter along with your greetings when he walks in the front door. Your hugs and sweet tone just don’t linger as long as they used to. You swear to the highest of Heaven’s that everything is fine when he ask you what is wrong, but Izuku is far from stupid. He knows you like the back of his scarred hands. Still, he drops the subject and continues the normal routine of eating the leftovers you saved for him, taking a shower, and going to rest.
As week three crept into week four, you have had enough. Izuku is working from home today so this is your chance. Strolling to the closed door, you hesitate, but take a deep breath and turn the knob.
Izuku’s home office door slowly creaked open. Your stomach is fumbling as the sight of your busy significant other typed away on his keyboard. Your presence did not go unnoticed, though, as his green eyes trailed over to your body. You are wearing nothing but an oversized black v-neck t-shirt and knee high socks. He had to do a double take.
You welcome yourself inside with a few small steps. Izuku pushes his chair back, encouraging you to come forward. You pick up speed to find refuge right on his lap. His green orbs cannot help themselves as they trail every single inch of you.
Your lips instantly meet. Just as you are hungry for him, his body is reciprocating the need. You both are starving for one another. Just, Izuku has better control than you seem to. Regardless, this is the attention you needed and crave.
You both slowly pull away. He wraps his muscular arms around your wait to keep you in place.
“Did you need something, princess?” Izuku asked, raising an eyebrow. You usually never come into his office unless you needed to. Especially dressed like this.
“Oh, uh..” You trailed off, beginning to feel flustered as you look down to twiddle with your thumbs. Izuku was quite certain he knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to use your words. You demanded attention and now you have it.
Izuku grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his green eyes. He did not even try to hide his smug smirk as you become even more intimidated in the palm of his hand. A true power rush.
“Use your words.” Izuku demands, brushing his thumb over your delicate pouty little lips. You sucked on his thumb like the hungry slut you are.
“I-I,” you swallow, removing his thumb from your mouth, and closing your eyes then opening them again to meet his, “I want you to finger me.”
“Ah, that’s what you want, hm?” He chuckled, his hand trailing down to your black laced panties. His digits touched the damp fabric. You could not help but begin making lewd faces.
He sits you up on his dark wooden desk and rolled his chair closer to you. “Keep your eyes on me the whole time, okay?” Izuku instructed. You nodded in response, desperately wanting him. You still feel warm from your timid nature. This did not stop Izuku from stuffing his index and middle finger down your panties to rub your pleading clit. Soft little moans encouraged him to keep going. Circular motions kept repeating on your sensitive nerves. You threw your head back in pleasure, forgetting all about what your boyfriend asked of you. You were quickly reminded when he pulled his fingers away and with a hard slap on your putter thigh.
“What did I say?” He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. You bit your bottom lip.
“N-Not to take m-my eyes o-off of you.” You mumbled with a clear stutter, regretting your actions immediately.
Izuku gently pushes you back on the desk so you can reveal more of your cunt to him. He begins taking off of your panties and discards them to the floor.
“And what did you do?” Izuku continued. Your stomach is doing flips. You know this is all to meet Izuku’s power high. If you want to get what you want, you have to play the game.
“Look away.” You mumbled. Izuku stands up and pushes your knees towards your chest to get a better view of your begging cunt. You hold them in place how he likes. Two digits go inside your desperate tight hole and curl. You whimper.
He makes sure you meet his eyes once again before continuing. “If you look away from me again, you are going to get nothing from me. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
The fingers going removing themselves just to go back inside your tight little hole was his sign of approval. He repeated this motion while his thumb rubbed your clit. You arched your back in pleasure, but remained eye contact. Loud beautiful moans filled Izuku’s office along with the sound of your weeping pussy.
Your slick leaked onto Izuku’s desk, down his arm, and completely covered his hand. He helped you up and gave you a forehead kiss. Though, he wanted to do way more to you, he still is a businessman at heart.
“Behave and I’ll reward you later.” Izuku bargained, kissing your lips swiftly. You smiled as you pulled away. Hopping down off his desk, you march out of his office with a satisfied feeling and a surprise to look forward to later.
All you have to do is ask.
©bakugosbratx
All Rights Reserved
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butterysalt · 3 years
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I’m Not Going Anywhere | Sherlock x Reader
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x reader (gender neutral)
Summary: After John beats up Sherlock for being gone for the past two years, you help tend to his wounds back at Baker Street.
Word Count: 1,405
Contains: Slight post-Reichenbach angst, injury
A/N: Other fics are in the works I swear,,, Creative energy is at a small low right now. But I still wanted to be somewhat active so I pulled this one from the old archives. Personally, this one isn’t a favorite of mine. Hope you’ll enjoy either way. :)
You and Sherlock took a cab back to Baker Street. The flat still needed to be cleaned up after sitting idle for so long. The occasional sheets of dust that weren't cleaned by Mrs. Hudson remained thick on the surfaces of shelves and furniture. Generally everything there was left untouched. No one could bear to see themselves throw any of it out. A part of Sherlock Holmes lived within everyone whether or not he was still around.
You briskly wiped down the old green couch with your hand and led Sherlock to sit on it. He groaned lowly in pain as he carefully leaned back into the cushions. You frowned watching Sherlock’s sore expression. His eyes were shut tight and he hissed quietly, an arm clutching his ribs.
John did quite a number on him. It was your job to watch over him while Sherlock was gone but you supposed that no amount of pampering and comfort could bring anyone complete peace after losing their best friend — someone that meant so much to John. But you didn’t doubt that Mary would help bring him around with time. They were Holmes and Watson after all. They always figured it out no matter how much they’d like to deny it.
Sherlock eventually opened his eyes again and found you staring. He made an effort to straighten his back and relax his face as best as he could in his condition. He flashed a sarcastic smirk. His voice came out quiet and tired. “Don’t worry. I’ve looked worse.” There was that infamous wittiness you remembered so dearly.
You fought back the smile trying to creep on your face and shook your head at him. You went to the bathroom to grab some first-aid supplies. You returned to the living room with a bowl of cold water, some towels, and a first-aid kit. With everything on the coffee table beside the couch, you just stood in front of him expectantly. No words had to be exchanged for him to understand that you were waiting for his permission to help him. He smiled a little at your old habit. Always the sweetheart. Sherlock nodded lightly and you sat yourself down on a soft spot next to the detective.
His eyes followed your hands as you wrung out a small towel in the water. You dabbed the cold cloth along his long face, being sure to avoid touching the cuts and green bruises. Sherlock inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and relaxing under your care. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach seeing how calm he was with your touch. How he could fully trust you and be himself in your proximity.
Even when he was wounded and struggling to keep himself together, his mind was still racing as fast as ever. You swore you could hear how loud his thoughts were bouncing around in his head. Suddenly, the curly-haired man sighed heavily, “I thought I told you to take care of him when I left.” He was referring to John.
“I did, Sherlock.”
“Not well enough, surely,” he perked his eyebrow and immediately winced from it. You blew air in your face, huffing at his comment. “I did the best someone could do when their friend disappeared off the face of the earth for two years.” Sherlock was silent hearing this. Afraid you had struck a nerve, you scanned his face, searching for any signs of vulnerability. But he looked overall unconcerned so you decided to continue.
“He has been quite well, actually, aside from tackling you at dinner. He met Mary a few months ago and really felt something special with her… He was actually trying to propose tonight,” you said pointedly, pausing your sanitizing to give him a sharp look. Although his eyes were still shut, his lip twitched from the feeling of your gaze.
“John hasn’t been the same as before but let’s face it, no one is. We’ve all been doing the best we can; I’ve been doing the best I can.” The subtle shaking in your voice didn’t fly past him. It was safe to say that he was a big reason for your internal disturbance. He peeked an eye open and analyzed your expression.
You were focused solely on taking care of his injuries. Your brows furrowed down in concentration and your jaw clenched and unclenched ever so often. In your eyes, you were troubled. Conflict flashed and swirled within them but Sherlock could see how you suppressed those thoughts.
He knew you spent these last two years blocking out everything and marching forward. All this effort to keep yourself functioning. To keep living each day one second at a time. If it were otherwise, you would have cracked under the overwhelming pressure a long time ago. Anyone would do so. And yet here you were, still putting others before yourself like always.
Your hand accidentally brushed the cotton pad over his cheekbone. He hissed sharply and pulled his head away. You mumbled a quiet apology, “Sorry.” Your gentle hands carefully caressed his face and pushed his hair away. Along the way, you ran your fingers through his wavy locks. Sherlock leaned into your hand from the sensation.
He was reminded of how much he missed your tenderness. No matter how many harsh jabs you tried to throw at him, you were too good for him. It was a known fact to Sherlock — and one he did not choose to argue with.
His pale hand trailed along your waist as you leaned forward to patch up his wounds. Your mind was too busy to register his fond touch. Sherlock absentmindedly messed with the material of your clothes. He was soon engrossed in the feeling of the fabric wrinkling under his rough fingertips. You were still wearing your formal attire from the restaurant and Sherlock had to admit, it was a good look on you.
“You clean up nicely,” he commented. His soft tone shook you out of your immersive state. You pulled your hands away from his cuts and looked at him, baffled. “Was that a compliment I heard?” Sherlock made a small smirk and shrugged. You narrowed your eyes down at him. “...Odd hearing that from you.”
“I’m a changed man.” He smiled at you and you willingly returned it. The detective was all patched up now but you found yourself resistant to leaving that spot on the couch. Sherlock was humming deeply under the slow circles of your fingertips in his hair. You felt your chest heaving up and down as your eyes flickered along his beautiful features in the room’s dim lighting. You were his peace as he was yours. “You have no idea how much I've missed seeing your annoying face.”
“Well that's not a very good compliment,” he mumbled, on the brink of falling into a sweet slumber from your ministrations. You snorted at his casual humor, trailing your fingers around his jaw. “Yep. Definitely missed that.” He grinned in response and covered your warm hand with his, getting lost in your eyes. 
You continued to trace his features, delicately dancing around his wounds. Sherlock’s colourful eyes pierced through you and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes were blown, dilated. You could feel the vibrations of his heart pulsing through his body and over to yours when you touched him. The way he remembered to stop and breathe and all the tension in his body left when you were with him. And that’s when the realization finally settled in.
Sherlock is back. It's really him. A tear slipped from your eyes and a strangled noise gurgled in your throat. You pressed a hard kiss on his hand and curled up into his chest. He was shocked, jumping at first, startled by your sudden movement.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around your figure and rubbed your back comfortingly. He hushed you, now being the one to run his fingers through your hair. “I really did miss you, Sherlock,” you hopelessly cried into his shoulder. “It’s been so long. I’ve been so worried, you idiot.” You weakly pushed his chest but ultimately ended up hugging him.
He smiled admirably at you, pulling back briefly to return a kiss of adoration on your forehead. Then he pulled you tighter into his form, holding you more securely as he whispered into your ear. “It’s alright. I’m home now. I'm not going anywhere.”
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demonicheadcanons · 4 years
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The Obey Me Brothers Reaction to MC Breaking Down Over Schoolwork
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(Initial ask contains an ableist slur and so cannot be posted. Please, in future, refrain from using slurs in any asks sent in!! It has since been added to my rules and I will straight up delete asks with slurs in them. Thank you <3)
AN: Apologies for taking so long to get to this one, its been in my inbox for a while. I’m sorry you were feeling that way, its really difficult getting adjusted to everything again, I work in a school and a lot of the students and teachers alike are definitely really struggling. Best wishes <3
I think I’m usually okay at not letting slip that Levi is my favourite boy, but you can tell here ;u; Sorry
Lucifer
He realises all too late that things are probably tough. Initially Lucifer is distant, and whilst he notices how tired you look sometimes at RAD, he decides to ignore it - you were probably distressed because you had been pulled into the Devildom out of nowhere, you’d just have to adapt because nothing else could be done. In his mind it was pointless worrying about it.
However, as he begins to pay more and more attention to you, he realises its more than that. You frown in class, your grades jump around and you don’t leave your room regularly, probably too busy focusing on studying. The few times you’ve accepted his offer of help, you seem to be on edge.
He decides one night to check in on you, and he hears a harsh thud from a few paces down the hall. He throws the door open without knocking, convincing himself that he was just worried you might be hurt because they needed you for the exchange programme and it would be a pain replacing you now, months into the whole endeavour.
You whirl around, arm still raised, your grip tight on your textbook. He looks about and sees other books scattered about, the room a mess.
Lucifer makes a low growling noise in the back of his throat, raising a hand to press against his temples before he freezes, finally taking in the look on your face. Your eyes are wide, having been essentially caught by the one person you really, really wouldn’t want to see you right now. You lower your arm slowly as he approaches, taking your face in his hands before you can duck away from him.
His tone and expression are impossible to place as he silently examines you, gloved hands wiping across your cheeks to get rid of any traces of your tears. You don’t have the time to process any of it before he pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms carefully around your shoulders.
Lucifer is silent, almost eerily so, and he holds you there without moving until you either push him away or until you stop sniffling and drop the book. Even when he does speak again, he’s quiet, deep in thought as he looks around the room and tells you simply to head over to his - he’ll bring you something to eat shortly, get some rest in the meantime. You mumble something about a test, and he waves a hand. He’ll bring the textbook, its fine, go rest.
It takes him a half hour to get to his room, carrying a tray with some tea and snacks. Your textbook is tucked under one arm, and he gently invites you to eat before he starts talking things out. He asks if classes are too difficult, asks if there’s anything in particular you’re struggling with. He makes a lot of offers - Luci is a busy guy, but he can free up a time slot if you want to study with him, or he can get you a tutor, or you can simply text him your concerns and he’ll respond as soon as he’s available. His advice is simple and realistic.
Once you’re done eating and drinking, he opens the textbook and goes over the things that are most likely to be on the test. He gives tips, explains the things that confuse you in a clear and concise manner. He’s a good teacher, and he’s a lot more patient than you’ve seen him before.
Overall, Lucifer is a quiet comfort, but a determined one. He works to make things easier for you in the background, marking out important parts of the textbook so you know what to focus on, and offering a hand whenever you need it. Also, when you get back to your room later, your books are neatly organised on your desk.
[Other brothers under the read more]
Mammon
Mammon randomly pops into your room quite often, making excuses about how he’s absolutely entitled to because he’s in charge of taking care of you. On this particular evening, you have absolutely no warning as per usual and he doesn’t bother knocking, because this boy only has good manners when it benefits him.
He freezes instantly, and he’s over to you in a second before you can throw whatever’s in your hand. His grip is careful but tight on your wrist and he squeezes until you let it go, tossing whatever it was onto your bed without looking and wrapping you up in his arms. You might feel trapped for a second, but he has this fear that you’re Going To Get Hurt and so he just holds onto you until you settle and start sobbing against his chest. (Mammon is panicking too much to think about it, and he’ll definitely apologise after and try not to do it again if he scared you.)
He pulls you over to the bed and sits you down, a hand smoothing through your hair. His grip remains on you at all times, and you can feel his hands shaking when he asks what’s wrong, MC? Did something happen?
Mammon listens carefully, swallowing and smoothing a hand over your hair when you tell him its because the work here is just too damn hard and you can’t do it, you can’t, you can’t remember all the dates for the history or recall the right Latin to say for this one course and its not like it matters anyway because you’re human, why would you need this?
He mumbles back “I know, I know,” and runs his hands down your arms, back, along your hair. Wherever he can to comfort you, wherever makes your breathing slow back to a normal pace and takes away the hiccups left from sobbing. He doesn’t force you to look at him, almost doesn’t want you to as he bites back sniffles and sobs and wipes his face against his sleeve because crying right now won’t fix anything for you.
When you’re both calmer again, he starts rambling about something or other to take your mind off it. Mammon isn’t one to offer any immediate solutions, and rather tries to distract you with stories until you fall asleep and he can lay you down and march straight to Lucifer and demand he talk to Diavolo about this, as fearless as if he were defending Belphie or Levi for accidentally breaking something.
You’re assigned a tutor, and have tutoring sessions with each of the brothers for things they’re good at, with Lucifer and Satan covering any areas the others don’t particularly excel in. Mammon himself helps you with maths, and although he isn’t always the best at explaining it, his presence along is comforting and helps makes working through a little easier, and he’s good for taking your mind away from any stress so that you can focus without worry holding you back.
Leviathan
He had just wanted to get something back that he loaned you, a book or DVD. He can’t remember what it was the second he hears a crash and throws open your door, and finds you in a ball on the floor, the room a mess around you. You don’t even look up as the door opens, and the two of you stay in place for a few moments.
Levi doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know where to start, but he can do one thing. Quietly and carefully, he tiptoes around your room and starts putting things back where they belong. He tidies your desk, faintly organises whatever notes he finds by subject and piles them up together. He doesn’t touch you, because he’s worried you wouldn’t want him to right now, that he might scare you, and so he just tidies until the room looks a little more normal again.
When you finally look up, he’s sitting a few feet in front of you, headphones on as he stares at his D.D.D., either playing a game or watching a video or scrolling through Wikis as he waits patiently for you to start the conversation or ask for whatever comforts you need. You move over to sit beside him, and he blushes but takes off his headphones and holds an arm out so you can rest against his shoulder.
He lets you watch whatever is on his phone for a beat before asking in a hushed voice if you need anything, if something was wrong, or if someone (maybe him?) upset you. When you tell him it’s about schoolwork, he sighs and pulls you closer without thinking about it. He hands you his D.D.D. and puts his headphones on you, tells you to stay there for a bit and keep watching until he gets back.
Levi returns a few minutes later with Satan in tow, each of them carrying a bag with their own textbooks in them. Levi kneels down to take back his D.D.D. and headphones and to help you up, and tells you you’re all going to start studying together in the library. If you’d be okay with it, he means... he could use the help too, and maybe it wouldn’t feel so bad if you were there. Not for any reason in particular!
Study sessions are added to your schedule after that. Even on days where Satan is off doing something else, Levi will tutor you on whatever he finds easiest - usually history, and oftentimes its history involving the navy. His shyness melts away into confidence as he talks about all the things he’s done, about how he was appointed head thousands of years ago and he thinks he’s yet to let Diavolo down.
After study sessions you go and get a drink together, something like bubble tea or smoothies or whatever, and then play games together to relax and let the info sink in instead of obsessing over it. If you ever start to get stressed out again, Levi gently puts his headphones on you and the two of you wait it out together, and he smiles at you every time you take the headphones off and take a deep breath, ready to keep working. He’s proud.
Satan
Satan is observant enough to notice ahead of time that something is about to happen. You seem horribly stressed and unfocused in your classes one day in particular, and he decides to stop by your room the second he gets home to find out what was wrong.
He knocks and waits for a while, but you don’t answer, and he was sure he heard noise before but now your room is deathly silent. He carefully creaks the door open a bit to call in and see if you’re there, and hears paper crumpling against the door. Deciding to investigate, he opens it a little more and slides in through the gap.
The room is a mess of books and paper and pillows, and you’re at your desk, hands clamped hard over your ears. You’re making some kind of whimpering noise every now and then, and Satan starts to piece things together as he gathers up books in one arm and smooths out paper. He taps you on the back before moving back a pace or two, just in case.
You freeze before turning around to look at him, seeming almost guilty, and he doesn’t really get why you’d feel that way but he holds up your books and clears his throat. “Do you want some help?”
Satan is more practical than emotional and, whilst he isn’t sure what kind of comfort he can offer you right now, he knows he can help with the work, help make it easier. He pulls a chair over beside you, motioning for you to scoot over, and leans against you as he opens the first book and asks where you were struggling. He keeps a constant connection between the two of you, either has his leg against yours or his entire side against you so that you know he’s there, so that you’re permanently aware of his presence.
He doesn’t look at you too often, not when you can see him do it. Even then, there’s no judgement in his gaze, just his brows furrowing slightly out of concern until your breathing in alright and you start to smile in little bursts again. He smiles then as well, scribbling down some notes for you.
After that, Satan regularly pulls you aside after class and asks if you want to come out with him to a cafe or to the library, or he’ll call you to his room in the house and ask if you’ll let him teach you this set of notes so that he can remember it better. He’s subtle, never really brings up what happened and never asks you about it because he’s already got it all figured out in his mind. Instead, he just works on moving on from it and making sure it doesn’t happen again, and if it does, he’ll be ready to be there for you again.
Asmodeus
Asmo had decided to visit your room because you weren’t responding to his messages asking if you wanted to go out shopping with him. Majolish had new season wear and he absolutely needed to go get first pickings at it, and he wanted you there by his side.
He knocks but opens your door immediately after anyway, not giving you time to do much more than turn to face the door, bringing the pillow you were about to throw up over your face instead so he can’t read too much of your expression. He sees the tears, anyway, and without thinking walks over to you and holds your face in his hands.
His voice is laced with concern as he asks what’s wrong, and he immediately looks like he’s going to cry as well, but he just did his makeup and he’s not going to risk ruining it right now. Instead he moves over to the bed and pulls you down onto his lap, holding you tight against his chest. He keeps asking, every few moments, if something was wrong and if there’s anything he can do, and his eyes dart around the room to try to piece it all together. Your books were still out on your desk, pillows a mess around the room, and you... You were curled up against him, shaking and choking down sobs.
Asmo pouts and holds you in silence until you calm down and start talking to him, start telling him what was wrong, what subject you’d been struggling with over the past hour and you were still stuck on the same damn page and not making any progress and the test was only a few days away and everyone was expecting so much from you, you who never even asked to be here. Obviously you weren’t good enough for this, obviously they should’ve chosen someone better-
Asmo cuts you off there, pushes against your shoulders until he can see your expression and cup your face in his hands. He’s not having you put yourself down because you’re struggling with work that the centuries-old demons also had a hard time with, not on his watch, and he tells you just as much. When he’s done half-scolding you, his expression softens and he offers whatever help he can. He’s sure he can rope Satan or Lucifer into helping out, and if not he can charm the examiners into giving you a better score... he keeps going until some of his silly advice gets you to snort out a little laugh, and then he relaxes.
He lays back and pulls you down with him, sighing as he instructs you to take a nap, and then after you two can go out shopping and you’ll figure everything out as you strip Majolish bare of its new wonderful outfits. And Asmo keeps to his word. As you’re trying things on he talks through the stall walls, proposing different ideas to you whilst simultaneously boosting your confidence as he compliments you and finds the perfect outfits for you.
Asmo makes it clear that if ever you should need a distraction, just give him a call - there’s always something better to do than reading over textbooks, and he’ll throw in study sessions so long as you’re there to spend time with him. Anything to make you feel better.
Beelzebub
Beel was in the kitchen, clearing out the fridge as usual when he heard a muffled thud against the wall. He pauses, turning to look in that direction, and realises that its the wall attached to your room.
He’s outside your door in no time, and taps nervously against it with his fingertips before opening the door slightly and calling in to ask if you were okay, and could he come in please? He hesitates when you don’t respond, but decides to head in anyway, because you might be hurt and any embarrassments he’s sure the two of you could live with, but with an injury there was no guarantee, not for a human.
There are books everywhere, the room as messy as he’s ever seen it, and you’re... nowhere to be seen. Not until he hears a sniffle and rounds the corner into the dining room section, and finds you curled up in a ball against the wall, face against your knees. He’s quick to back away, worried that he’ll upset you more, but then Beel kneels down a few paces in front of you and leans forward to tap your arm.
You flinch and look up immediately, pulling your knees closer to your chest until you realise its him, and then you just look guilty. Beel’s chest hurts, he feels horrible - what happened to make you feel like this? Could he help, or should he go get someone else? He asks just as much, voice somewhat broken over the questions as he hesitates. He doesn’t get this anxious often, but right now you remind him of Belphie a few thousand years ago, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
He pushes the thought away and slides closer, sitting against the wall beside you. His presence might not help, and he waits for you to tell him to leave, but after a while you press against his side and he opens his arms to you and holds you as tight as he can until you feel a little bit okay again. And then he asks, again, what’s wrong, and he waits for you to tell him, shaking but as patient as can be. You open up to him slowly, and he listens.
Beel doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t think he’d be a good tutor for you, doesn’t know how to relieve the stress really. But, he promises his arms are always there if you want a warm hug, and... he is sure that there is some resolution to be found, but for now you should just do your best and that’s all anyone could expect from you, and if anyone doesn’t like that then... he’ll be your bodyguard, ready to defend you at any moment. He was good at that, sometimes.
Beel smiles at you and gives you the warmest smile he can manage before tucking your head back against his shoulder or chest. He tells you to rest for a little while, and then you can try working again later. Whilst you’re asleep, he pulls out his D.D.D. and messages Belphie asking for advice, and then Lucifer. By the time you wake up, he’s got a few tips from the brothers and a tutoring timetable is being organised by Lucifer for the two of you, so that you wouldn’t be alone.
Belphegor
Belphie doesn’t know why he was on his way to your room, and he stops thinking about it the second he throws the door open and sees you crying. He’s too tired to put the pieces together as he looks around, too tired to really take in the room, but he’s on high alert when he runs over and wraps you in his arms, looking around properly to see if anyone was there, if anyone had hurt you.
You can hear him growling in the back of his throat until he slowly relaxes, shoulders lowering as he takes in how messy your room is. It must’ve been you, he decides, holding you closer to him. A demon would’ve left this place in a horrible state. But nothing was torn, just scattered around.
He’s more awake when he pulls you over to the bed and immediately lays down with you on his chest. He doesn’t get what’s wrong yet, but he’ll figure it out. He wills his powers, his sin’s influence, over you until you’re drowsy and fall asleep, still sniffling occasionally, and then he starts to work things out.
By the time you wake up, Belphie apologises for how disorientated you might feel. He probably should’ve talked to you first before making you fall asleep. He smiles sheepishly at you, but the concern in his eyes is only thinly veiled, and you can see through to it.
“So, school, huh?” he asks, lopsided smile almost teasing. He wants to make you smile, or laugh if he’s lucky. Instead you make a frustrated noise and press your face into his chest again, and he pats your head to comfort you. You hear him swallow before he pushes against your shoulders to get you to look at him again.
He’s not hiding so much when he asks what’s wrong, and he listens as you stumble through an explanation before sighing and asking if you want to take another nap. He grins when you glare at him, before adjusting you both so you’re sitting up again. “Let’s get to work, then. What subject is first?”
Belphie isn’t the best at a lot of the work, and he’s missed a lot of classes, but he’s a decent help and he keeps your stress down by cracking jokes and patting your head when you do well. He’s a comforting presence, and if you get overwhelmed again he leans his elbows against the desk, head in hands, and suggests you take another nap with him because he could really use one right now. He laughs when you swat at him and tell him to focus, and then looks at you and tells you that you can come to him if you need help, anytime. Don’t wake him up if he’s deep asleep, though - get Mammon or someone stupid to do that, he jokes, just in case he lashes out.
In future, Belphie will tap on your door when he knows you’re studying and, although he often falls asleep at your desk or just immediately heads over to your bed to nap, he gives off a comforting aura that makes the work a bit bearable for longer.
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revirushifaa · 3 years
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OK, but imagine MC dying of old age while their daughter is still super young and Lucifer doing his best as a single dad for centuries as their daughter grows from the terrible twos into the teenage rebellious streak that definitely didn't come from him (it did).
Haaah, more papa Sushifer is in order! This is already fun, so I'll give up a scenario!
Enjoy!
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Daughter of Pride:
MC is gone. His partner is gone, and now the only thing that was left of them, was their one-year-old daughter, Lucille. While Lucifer was still a little mournful over his mate's loss, he promised to them that he would be the one raising their firstborn, it was a promise that he won't break, he did his best with the raising alone, after all he had experience with raising children.
Lucille was a demon like her father so she aged differently from her human parent so it was only natural that MC died without seeing their daughter grow up, something that torment them even to the last moment of their life. Lucifer didn't wish to remember that sad day. It had to be one of the most saddest days of his long life.
Please, MC, my dearest... stay with me
Lucifer... take good care of my little girl. Tell her that I love her... I love you too, both of you...
With that last sentence and warm smile, MC stopped living. He was so devastated that he turned himself colder around everyone... but his daughter. Lucille was the only living being left from his mate, the one who he had to protect and raise. It wasn't an easy task, normally, MC was who took care of her the major part while he was absent in business with Diavolo.
But he had promised with his heart to MC, that Lucille would be cared for and raised well. Just looking his daughter, it remembered him of MC. While she had his body form and face features, her hair and her eyes were MC's, it was like seeing his beloved in their daughter, which he took as comfort. He would nuzzle Lucille at nights and snuggled her in bed, the baby half demoness had MC's calid smile and laugh, but she had also inherited that hard attitude from Lucifer. It was a mix, of hard and soft.
"You are my pride and joy, Lucille. Never forget that, daughter mine."
What he would always murmur in her small ears as he snuggled her and cradled her. With his daughter with him, he didn't become full isolated to his room, if he had lost both MC and Lucille, then Lucifer wouldn't be sane at all. At least Lucille was safe and sound with him.
"No, Lucille. You cannot have sugar all three meals."
As the little demoness grew up, she was more hard to raise or to try to discipline. She was spoiled, that was true, and sometimes she turned out bratty.
"But I wanna sugar. SUGAR NOW!!"
"Lucille—"
"SUGAR!!!"
Sometimes her temper tantrums, gave Lucifer huge migraines and constant stress. It was when he used his major authorital tone, that he made her to stop acting up. And if that didn't work, then it was taking her privileges and sometime in the corner. He never hit her as a punishment. No. He just couldn't bring himself to do that, the demoness was only three and if he did that, he would be breaking an important promise that he had made to MC. Be fair with my little girl, Lu.
So physical discipline was a no-go with him. There were other ways that worked his way. Like when he grounded her from playing with her toys for three days. She would only study and practice her writing. No dessert as well. He had glared sternly at Beel, warning him to not be lenient when his daughter was grounded.
"That's it, young demoness. No toys or dessert for THREE days."
"But, Daddy-"
"No buts, or else I'll add another day to your grounding."
That was all to shut her savage mouth in protesting. Of course seeing her sob and cry because he was too harsh in speaking to her, always made his heart hurt. He would always tone down his voice and speak more gentler to her, explaining why he did that, and then fix the situation with offering to do a compromise, if she was well-behaved and willing to it.
As she reached into adolescense, that was a huge stress to the poor prideful father. Lucille at 16 was such a pain in the butt. Demanding and rebellious, a huge picky eater and a true brat.
"I will be clear with you, young demoness. If you give me an ounce of attitude, then your D.D.D will be confiscated for a month, you won't go out during that time and will be put on chores duty for until I see an improvement in your behavior. And you will write three thousand times I will not disrespect or disobey my father. Clear?
Lucille would huff at how strict her father had turned himself into. But she hadn't known that it was all her part to have put him that way. Lucifer was fair if she was fair, it was a cycle of giving and giving back. Lucille behaved, Lucifer rewarded her. Lucille misbehaved, then Lucifer punished her.
"Father, when did you turn like an old boring grandpa? I only want to have fun! You can't keep me as your prisoner in this boring house!"
"Lucille, I demand more respect from you. This is your father, speaking to you. And I never said that I would keep you here all the time. But first things first. Do your school work and then you can go out. Do we have a compromise?"
"Fine. We have a compromise, Dad."
Lucifer would smile a bit softly, when the young demoness was reasonable.
"That's my good, little demoness." He would end it with a kiss to the top of her hair, before departing from her and going to do his own work and the demoness would go to do her own thing as promised.
Sometimes the lying habit came to Lucille and because of her, Mammon got in many trouble when it was all her buying the latest of fashion clothes.
"How do you explain this, Mammon?"
"Hey, what have you gotten into you?! I don't buy girly stuff! Maybe you should ask Lucille!"
....
"LUCILLE!!!!"
"What?"
She would come to him with a nonchalant look, as she's wearing highly expensive clothes and from that, is when Lucifer realized that it's all his daughter and not his greedy brother.
"So it was you who spent all of our money to please your nonsense..."
"Nonsense, Dad? I am a demoness in need of good clothes and looks! What if I find some good looking human in the future? They wouldn't like a normie, like how Uncle Levi dubs it!"
Lucifer's poor head throbs with absolute pain and stress. Ugh his daughter, is again causing him to go grey at just the age that he was at currently.
"Apologize to your uncle and then go to your room and write three thousand times I will not lie and blame my uncle into buying items that I don't need. Right now. March."
"But, Dad!"
"No 'but Dad'. Now, Young demoness. Or else, I will make you write it fifteen thousand times. How is it going to be?"
"I'm sorry, Uncle Mammon..."
And after her uncle acknowledged her apology, she went up to her room to do that, with a sad face, she didn't want at all to make her father disappointed today. Lucifer took notice of it, but decided to wait until she was done with the writings to talk about it.
It was several hours but she was done, and her handwriting had gotten better, it was because of the writing punishments that it got better, seeing as this was a very common punishment that her father doled out to her when she was being disobedient or a brat.
"I...I'm done..." she said in a quiet voice.
Lucifer had looked up from the papers that he was signing. He frowned softly, the demoness hadn't realized it but she had a few tears rushing down her cheeks. His firm tone from before had softened to that gentle tone, as he approached her and pulled her into his hold.
"I hope this will be enough to end your lying habit. I do not like seeing you sad, but you know I cannot let you get away with something that you have done wrong. It is okay now. You have learned and there is not reason for me to keep mad."
He had soft-spoken to her, the way that she knew that he wasn't mad or disappointed anymore. But Lucille couldn't help feeling bad either way. She in fact, never liked putting her dad mad or disappointed in her, she let the silent tears trickle down. Lucifer said nothing, his comfort was always silent and he showed it with actions rather than words. He held her in his arms, all the time that she needed.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad..."
"There's no need to apologize now, this case has been solved. Don't beat yourself too much over it, your uncle had forgiven you, I have forgotten about it. It's all okay, Lulu."
And by calling her by her special nickname that he had for her, she knew all was well. She hugged more but to show him that she actually loved him so deeply. Lucifer already knew that, he loved his daughter with all his life, it didn't matter how much trouble she was, that wouldn't change anything.
He might be cold, stern and everything else that others said of him behind his back, but the love of a father was above everything else. He loved his demoness quite so much, so that was what was important.
"I love you, Dad. And I mean it."
"I love you too, daughter mine, with all my heart."
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21u004 · 3 years
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stitched in silence / geto suguru / march 20th, 2021
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“hey,” geto calls out to you from behind, and you don’t bother to face his way. how could you when all you’ve been doing these past few days is be prideful and avoid him after—that?
maybe that’s the problem—you’re a little too prideful for your own good; a little too stubborn to let your walls down and finally hear him out after days of escaping as soon as he comes into your line of view.
and you think it’s stupid; that little duality of yours. how one moment you’re hearing out everyone’s opinions and then in the other, you’re drowning them out, either because you think you’re in the right, or you know you’re wrong but not admitting it because all you’d have left is your pride, in short words, scared of the truth.
maybe if you’d let your pride down first before anything else, it wouldn’t be the only thing left with you.
then again, whether you put it down or not, they still leave. it’s better to have something than nothing at all.
suguru doesn’t hear a response from you or see one either for him, when all you’re doing is petting the black cat in front of you.
it’s the same cat he’s been so envious of, always being able to get your attention and showered with affection. at that moment, he figures he’s just as childish at you too, and it relieves him.
he’s found someone like him, and yet still so different, because you’ve always been so open to everything and yet closed at some times. it’s difficult to understand you, built with complicated little puzzle pieces, but suguru’s willing to spend hours, days or years trying to figure you out.
“um… about… last week,” he starts, taking a seat beside you on the staircase. he’s still a bit hesitant, afraid to just unintentionally push you away once again if a wrong word slips out of his mouth and he’ll just have missed another opportunity to mend things back together between you and have more time spent with you.
he puts his hand down from his nape, watching you quietly coo at the cat, giving it gentle rubs on its fluffy head and body. it’s laughable; him being jealous over a cat, but then he assumes you’ve felt the same way too, and he’s right.
“i’m sorry if you thought that i—” and before he even gets to finish his sentence, you’re interrupting his little apology, with an assumption that it’s another one of those pitiful sorry’s that nearly everyone’s heard so much every day from him from how many people are head over heels for him and unfortunately, the feeling not being mutual.
“of course you are.”
your fingers stop grazing themselves over the cat’s fur, and instead of it trying to get you back at it again, it leaves as if it sensed the growing tension between you and suguru.
“you’re geto suguru,” you begin, putting your hands back onto your lap, clenching both your jaw and your fist, desperately trying not to be so vulnerable, despite having known each other for who knows how long. “you’re—you’re just so unapologetically yourself, it’s annoying. you’re too—kind, considerate, too polite and too gentle with others that it’s frustrating.”
“it’s frustrating because i can’t seem to—” you don’t dare say it, not because of pride. if anything, you’d like to say it out loud but you feel the words stuck in your throat as if there’s some barrier between it and your mouth keeping the words from leaving you.
say it, and that’s one less person that cherishes you exceptionally, and that’s horrible because there’s barely anyone left who cherishes you as much as he does.
it’s pointless though since you probably already lost him after last week.
you’re vibrating in your seat, wanting to go home and be held and be vulnerable and cry. it’s childish, but you try to tell yourself it’s not and that everyone has to be a little bit emotional at times to let go or accept certain things.
in this case, let go of your pride, and accept the rejection that’s coming your way, then be told it’s okay, that nothing’s going to change and he’s going to stay, and be cradled in—his—arms.
who would have thought that even confessions and rejections could be so—dramatic?
but well, it’s you. you can’t help feeling your emotions to its core; you can’t help letting it all pour out of your little heart and into the world.
perhaps that’s one of the reasons suguru love you so much; how you find love in the littlest corners of the world and let it bleed through you and give it all away. and you don’t realize that he does because you’re too busy worrying and hammering unwanted thoughts into your head.
“sorry,” standing up, you wipe your own tears away with the back of your hands, as strings of apologies (that suguru assumes what he should be doing instead of you) thread the air. “this is, this is stupid and childish. i’m sorry you had to deal with this for so long. i’m going, it’s better that way. i’m sorry.”
you want to leave, but a part of you is telling you to stay. and if you couldn’t choose or make up your mind between those, then suguru was going to choose for you again, like every other time you and satoru chose him as a moral compass.
and geto wants you to stay.
he always has. you’re just too scared to face it—to face him. you could face anything but him, since you’re so afraid of letting him see you without rose-tinted glasses.
you’re afraid that he’s going to abandon you despite getting reassured plenty times that he never will.
you’re afraid that he’s going to be like everyone else.
so he takes your wrist before you step any farther, and his skin’s heat contrasts with yours.
“let go.”
“hear me out.”
and for a moment of weakness, you sit back down, three steps away from where he sat.
he could leave you be, at least you’re not too far, but he chooses to sit next to you and wipe your tears away.
when you don’t stop him, relief showers over him.
he’s careful with you, slowly and gently drying your tears with his handkerchief, patting it lightly on your cheeks.
he’s close, dangerously close to you. his breath’s warm against you, and he smells a lot like cool mint. it’s not helping you from trying to move on from him, because he’s so annoyingly and unapologetically himself, and his true self is this.
still, you don’t try to pry away from him, and neither does he with you because all you each want is to be close to each other again after what felt like weeks.
“get straight to the point,” you croak once he backs away from your face.
“the feeling’s mutual,” he says, smiling at the ground, then at you.
he better be kidding.
“it’s not funny. quit fooling around with me,” you breathe in heavily, feeling somewhere between scared, nervous, and happy.
“i’m not.”
“this! this is why i want to leave. because you keep joking with me when i’m serious—”
“accept it,” he wraps a hand around your arm, and he’s so, so close to you again. he could be teasing you, but the tone of his voice is telling you that he’s just as serious as you are.
it all runs back to you, the little comments about you that shove your insecurities back on your shoulders to carry. “…why? why me?”
suguru sighs and lets go of the tight grip on your arm. he’s got a bunch of reasons—well, contributors to that list, but he doesn’t really know the main reason why. so he replies, simple and honest, “just because.”
you were the one who told him that too anyway. how someone doesn’t have to have a reason why they love someone else.
you want to kick him on his shin so badly and say he’s being playful again with you because he always has been, but you can’t sense a single inch of it. he’s actually serious.
“you—that’s the dumbest decision you’ve ever made,” you spit out, panting heavily after holding your breath for so long. “you’re trying to ruin your life.”
having always been understanding, instead of feeling irritated at your counter, his eyes soften at the look of disappointment outlined in your features. who hurt you and why?
it’s going to take him longer to piece you together, but it’s okay. suguru’s got plenty of patience for you. after all, he’s going to be in it for the long run.
“it’s not,” he whispers.
murmuring a small ‘what’, you get pulled into his chest. it’s warm and comforting, with his hand patting your back gently, and the icing on the cake is hearing his steady pulse.
he’s alive, and he’s with you out of everyone in the world.
he’s unable to make out words and tell you everything he wants to say to reassure you that you’re so much more than what you think you are, that you’re deserving of the same love you give away and so much more than that, that you’re too valuable to be discarded so easily or just thrown away at that. so hopefully, this was enough.
hopefully, even without words, you hear him.
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