This is certainly the week for posts, lol.
Everyone is still reeling from what just happened. Answers are forthcoming, but ones no one ever wanted to hear.
The apartment was quiet.
Cross-posted on ff.net here.
I’ve been so addicted to those shoujo isekai webtoons / manhwa’s that I wanna write my own. sobs into hands.
What I’m writing right now is reaching new levels of angst. I’ve finally hit the experimentation milestone, guys! -Aru
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"Would you die for me...?" Toshinori asks him, with full trust.
"Again? Aha! Never..." He responds. He wants nothing more than to punch Toshinori in the face, but first, he has to save his friends.
Midoriya gets sacrificed by All Might during a deadly battle, a majority of his classmates already dead. In his last moments he wants nothing more than to get a re-do in life and yell at All Might. Someone, luckily, decides to grant Midoriya those wishes and he gets sent back in time to right before he meets All Might.
Can Midoriya save everyone in time, or will his anger and need for revenge...ruin it all?
"Time is non-refundable, use it with intention." - Unknown
Words: 2005, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M
Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Inko, Shinsou Hitoshi, League of Villains, U.A. Faculty, U.A.'s Big Three, Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Todoroki Rei, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Sensei | All For One, Toogata Mirio, Amajiki Tamaki, Hadou Nejire, Akaguro Chizome | Stain
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya/Uraraka Ochako, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & U.A. Faculty, Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku, Ashido Mina/Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Akaguro Chizome | Stain & Midoriya Izuku, League of Villains & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto
Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Midoriya Izuku Has PTSD, Angry Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Bashing, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Protective Midoriya Inko, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Todoroki Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Hurt Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi Friendship, Pining Kaminari Denki, Flirty Shinsou Hitoshi, Flirty Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou is a Dork, BAMF Uraraka Ochako, Minor Iida Tenya/Uraraka Ochako, Sensei | All For One Being an Asshole, Sensei | All For One is Not Midoriya Hisashi, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Blood and Gore, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Midoriya Izuku is a Dork, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bisexual Disaster Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Has a Bad Time, Sorry Not Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Not Ashamed, I'm Bad At Tagging, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Sludge Villain Incident, Midoriya Izuku Has a Knife, Midoriya Izuku Has Trust Issues, Midoriya Izuku Hates Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Dabi Needs a Hug, Protective Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is a Little Shit, Protective Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Gamer Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, BAMF Toga Himiko, Parental Akaguro Chizome | Stain, Kurogiri is Shirakumo Oboro, Babysitter Kurogiri, L.O.V Is Just Full Of Angsty Teens and Adults, League of Villains Shenanigans, Protective League of Villains, Minor Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30515061
Should I make just like. A massive jatp themed angst prompt list or smthn?
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Quote prompt five for zukka
“Well, yell, scream say something! Anything!”
Katara picks her way through the rubble, trying to find him. Zuko had been just on the other side of the room when the building collapsed and he was taken out of sight.
“Zuko!” she yells, stepping over a large slab of concrete. She wish she could earthbend some of this stuff out of the way, but there are metal rods poking out in every direction and she realizes she wouldn’t want to risk moving something and him being attached to it.
“Zuko! Can you hear me?” she stands still, and strains her ears for a sound, any sound, but doesn’t hear anything besides pebbles falling and water dripping. The sun is beginning to set and panic is starting to rise in her chest.
She doesn’t want to stop looking but soon, it’ll be too dark to see anything and she doesn’t have a way to light a torch. She makes it to the other side of the rubble pile, about where he was standing when everything came down.
“Zuko! If you can hear me, say something! Yell, scream, say something! Anything!” she stands on top of a small slab of concrete. “Please,” she whispers.
“Doug,” The sound of his name falling from his lips makes him feel sick, digging his nails into the palms of his hands as he takes a breath in an attempt to quell the uneasy feeling inside of him, “you shouldn’t be here.” He thinks about Maddie and how she won’t leave the apartment, about how thin she is and how she won’t eat and she can’t sleep, how she flinches if he touches her without warning her or how he had to bathe his own sister because she’s too weak and too tired to do it herself. He loathes the man standing in front of him right now and as satisfying as one punch would be, he doesn’t want Maddie to be scared of him, too.
Chapter 3: Like Father, Like Son
Summary: Your baby boy is a carbon copy of the man you miss every day.
Notes: The son is younger in the fic, but finding a pic was impossible, so let’s all imagine lol!
It seems impossible, getting through each day. Especially now that I have a miniature version of you in my arms almost every moment. His green eyes sparkle just like yours did when something made you happy and his hair is as dark as a raven’s. If I hadn’t carried him myself, I would almost swear he wasn’t mine as every feature, every giggle, every smile, is completely you. Perhaps from me, he was able to avoid your Frost Giant gene, as that had been something you had expressed worry over. The reason I barely saw you in your true form.
He’s only three months old, but I can see the mischief in his eyes. Oh, how he would love to learn Frigga’s magic from you. He will be a handful as he grows. Like father, like son.
I decided to name him after his attitude, his mindset. He is greatly determined in everything he does, even at his young age. I know it will only grow as he continues.
If only you could see him now, Loki.
Our little Destin.
There was a soft knock on the door to pull you out of your writing. As you closed your journal, Hilde poked her head in.
“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt, but the littlest prince is hungry.”
You laughed as your stood up from your desk. “I was wondering when he would wake up from his nap. Alright, the milk machine is coming.”
Destin usually slept in your rooms except during the times you wanted to write in your journal. Then you placed him in his nursery.
He was currently in this crib, half crying as he looked up at the mobile Hilde had made for him. It consisted of the animals of Asgard that would no longer be seen by anyone’s eyes. When Destin turned his emerald eyes at you, a small gasp left your lips as you saw your lost love in his tiny face. Would he grow up to look exactly like Loki? Or would your features and genes play a role the older he became?
You gently picked him up and settled down on the rocker, using a pillow Korg had gifted you after Destin was born to support your arm. As he ate, you looked out his window at a bird sitting on the tree right outside. Thor had planted it there so the room would get light, but not so much that the summers would be unbearable.
The makeshift family you had kept you afloat in times like these.
Destin grows so quickly and I know you would be so proud to see how he progresses. He is now five months old and a little speed demon as Hilde would say. He can already hold a few of his toys and sit up on his own, though getting up to crawl is still a challenge.
He always seems to be in a hurry, wanting to grow past what his body is ready for and I fear for the day he can walk. How will I catch our son then?
Teeth are coming in and I have to watch every time I leave him on his playmat as every toy is now shoved into his face. Hilde is baby-proofing the house in record time. She has been a godsend during times.
As each day passes, he resembles you more and more. I show him your picture every day and tell him who you are. I can only hope he is making the connection. My poor heart can only take so much.
“This is your best batch of cookies yet!”
You laughed as you frost the cooled cookies. “Thor, you say that every time I make cookies.”
“And I mean it each time!” Thor bounced your son on his lap. “Isn’t that right, Destin? Your mom makes the best cookies.”
Destin giggled as he sat on his uncle’s lap, unfrosted cooking in one pudgy little hand and a sippy cup in the other. “Badda mapa!”
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you watched your son try to say his first words. “I think he was agreeing with you, Thor.”
“How could he not?”
“He has a point,” Hilde remarked with a mouth full of cookies.
“Mebah!” Destin cried.
Happy first birthday to our little boy! He has become a little clone of you, though his skin is nowhere as pale as yours and his hair seems to resemble mine more. But his face. Oh, that little face of his. That little face of yours.
The mischief is so clear in his eyes as he toddles around the home. We are still awaiting his first words but I know you would be so proud no matter what word he chooses.
I wish I could write more for you right now, but Korg is preparing a party for our little one. It won’t be big, just those who have helped me raise our son.
Tonight I will write more and hope that wherever you are, you can read my words.
I love you, Loki.
The party was very small, consisting of you, Hilde, Thor, Korg, and Mik. While Destin had his after lunch nap, you put the final decorations on a tiny cake meant for him as Hilde finished frosting cupcakes for everyone else to enjoy. Korg and Mik brought pizzas for the adults while Thor provided beer for adults and juice for Destin.
Thor looked over at you and practically spit out his beer laughing. You raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Hilde looked over and giggled. “You have frosting on your cheek.”
“What?” You went to wipe your face with the back of your hand, only to smear it worse and into your hair.
Now Korg was laughing. “Oh man, I don’t believe that helped.”
“You’re right, Korg. But this might.” You pointed the piping bag at the rock alien and hit his nose with a glob of green frosting.
Mik starting laughing and you pressed harder on the bag, hitting Thor next.
“This means war!” He hurled a cupcake at you and you managed to duck in time. However, Hilde did not.
“You’re dead, Your Majesty!”
Laughter filled the house as frosting and sugary baked goods flew around the tiny kitchen, everyone making sure not to his Destin’s cake.
Suddenly, there was a tentative knock on the door and all food fighting came to a halt. You looked around the room, confused as to who could be coming by. Everyone who mattered to you was there already.
“Hilde, you said you have someone watching the kingdom affairs today?”
She nodded as she ate some of the frosting that had landed on her face. “Claude should have everything under control. It was to be a quiet day today.”
“Maybe he had a question about inventory. You know how he loves to sweat the small stuff.” Thor offered.
“Only one way to find out,” you used a paper towel to clean your hands and face the best you could as you walked to the door.
Since the house was so small, everyone was able to gather at the end of the kitchen to see who had decided to swing by.
“Claude, whatever your question is I’m sure it can wait until later,” you began to open the door. “You know how important this day is to us.”
“Who is Claude?”
Your hands dropped to your side in shock and you felt your jaw go slack, unable to believe the image in front of you. “What-”
The silence in the house was eerie as everyone could clearly see the open door and the figure standing before you. No one had words or could even move towards the door. You took a ragged breath as your brain tried to comprehend the image in front of you.
Behind everyone, Destin had crawled out of your bed - where he had his nap - and toddled into the room. He looked up at his Uncle Thor who had his eyes glued to the door. So your son toddled over to you, tugging on your arm.
But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the person in front of you. Was this real?
Destin’s first words broke the spell.
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Haven't posted anything in a while 👀
But here we are!
I have gained a new art style and I decided to draw some Dreamswap stuff!
Oh, these two aren't in the new art style, I just did these a real while ago, but yeah! I really liked these as they were my first two Dreamswap drawings! And if it wasn't obvious, I simp for DS!Blue lol- XD
Here is with the new art style back when Blue was just a little kid ;o; I like to draw Angst sometimes, I did this on the 9th at night and the 10th in the morning(it's already the 11th for me-)
And I just did this starting at 11pm 10th of April.
And I finished roughly 15 minutes ago(12:10am)
Dreamberry is an OTP and I wasn't planning to do them actually as females at all. I was planning to do them as both kids but I suck at drawing kids and hair so halfway drawing Blue I decided, "Nah, Imma make them girls because who doesn't love some Lesbian romance?" And that's the story on how they turned into females lol XD But it turned out really good in my opinion.
I know Blue probably no longer has their beanie/hat thing but like I said, I was planning to draw them as kids and I was too lazy and tired to erase the hat and it looks cute so I just kept it.
Dreamswap and their respected characters belong to: @onebizarrekai
I hope you like it ^~^
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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄
Zombie au + quirkless au
Genre :fluff,slow burn , angst , romantic
In which denki and y/n was searching for food and gotten coner by a lot zombie they run and hide to the nears store that happens to be in corner store
“ of course it have to be me “ he humble to himself knowing that damn sure won’t get him anywhere if keep talking “denki were been run low on food “
“If want to survive the basics is getting food “ said Bakugou denki known that he was going alone he didn’t want to go alone plus very easy for one person to get bitten
Bakugou saw the fear in his eyes and sigh “ I’m sending kirishima with you okay you happy dumbass “ he handing the guns to him “thank you “
“Kirishima “ bakugou yelled “yes bakugou “ clearly just waking up “ come with denki for food “ “yes sir “ gotten his stuff and walking out the barrier￼ form protecting us inside of his horror going on
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄
Walking inside the car “ dude I don’t feel good about this “
“You know this basic for living we going to have to go out someday “
“I just don’t get why he chose me out all people “
“Maybe he trust you “
“You know you are very brave “ said kirishima
He stays silent closing to the loud ring in his ears as the continued with awkward energy in the car ￼
He started feelings himself feeling slowly asleep in the cold car where the seat are comfortable to be not ruin in world “wake up “ said kirishama I found a place “
He stretches his arms “ finally “ he yawled as he the walk to store trying to not making any noise “get all the food in here “ he demanded “I need to go use the restroom “ said kirishama
I hate being alone in this world knowing that he could get kill any moment
Just like there was scream that followed with a pack with zombies coming to eat the person luckily he hide behind the self
“ shit “ a Bead of sweat coming down his forehead does the idiot knowing that by firing his gum could bring hella of pack zombie
Noise track the zombies ￼￼
Kirishama hear the noise coming behind the restroom door “what happened denki “
“Where the fuck come the those zombies “
“Someone fire “
“I will have to stay the night then it look like those zombie won’t be leaving anytime soon “
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄
Been 2weeks we l wasn’t dumb we known that needed to eat so we did just that , kirishama slowly started losing hope that those zombies we leave me other hand ... I really don’t know what to do
The food was running to so kirishama decided that we needed to leave I left of course I did we come crossing a corner store
Very big for just corner store kirishama decides to split up and I go to right and go left as the darkness consuming me ￼a rolling can past by his foot ￼it was making a messy someone been here and it was here seen like a human there was missing can some on the ground food was everywhere “ come out “
“Please don’t hurt l-“ she put her hand up in the hand in air “I’m not “ he said “your name is “
A scream come back denki rush to that side he was worry he just split up on his friend blood he saw blood then body
“Shit “he said trying not crying kirishama was lying front him died he never will forgive himself he never forget his scream and pain the herd of zombie filling the streets
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I Was Meant To Die In Your Arms
Rating: M (18+)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Status: On-going (currently 10 chapters)
Summary: Having a soulmate meaning having a death sentence. Sure you get a year of bliss, but soon after your other half is ripped away from you forever. That doesn't stop Peter and Stiles from wanting to be together however, no matter all the people desperately trying to keep them apart.
Where To Read: Archive of Our Own
❝ 8:42 pm ❞ ☰ boyfriend!youngtaek
ʚ time stamp ɞ
“your hands are so tiny.”
”but look at them! tiny.”
“i’m just saying-"
"son youngtaek, i love you but you’re driving me insane. stop picking on me for how small my hands are,” you groan and he frowns.
”i’m not picking on you, though. i adore your small hands — they’re so cute,” he grins and you roll your eyes.
”sure they are,” you say, turning your attention back to the tv. “watch tv, youngtaek.”
”fine but that won’t change how tiny your hands are,” he smirks.
”how about i use these tiny hands to hit you?” you ask, playfully.
”how about you use that tiny hand to hold my hand?”
”how about i... what?”
the boy intertwines his hand with your own, his attention returning to the movie you were meant to be watching.
”shh, watch the movie,” he teases, his smirk returning.
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I was going through the scenario of a fic I could write based off my last relationship and god I almost just ripped my own heart out and I know I probably can’t write that with a character I like or it’ll ruin me.
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Sag, spürst Du auch dieses unheimliche Gefühl?
Ein Hauch davon, der stets in Deinem Nacken sitzt?
Wo auch immer Du bist, dieses Gefühl begleitet Dich.
Nicht auffallen, nicht sagen, was man wirklich denkt.
Keine Angriffsfläche bieten, um nicht alleine dazustehen.
Sag, kommen Dir manchmal auch die Tränen?
Weil Du es nicht mehr ertragen kannst in diesen Tagen?
Weil Dich die Last erdrückt und Du glaubst, dass die Kraft
Sag, glaubst Du auch, dass es fast keine Hoffnung mehr gibt?
Dass Du nie mehr aus diesem Albtraum erwachst und alles
um Dich herum zerbricht?
Sag, hast Du auch diese Angst,
dass es noch schlimmer wird, weil das Böse unter uns ist?
A look at a relationship built on dancing the blurred line between nonexistence and over-before-it-started.
Words: 1998, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Takami Keigo | Hawks
Relationships: Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Takami Keigo | Hawks
Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Character Study, Secret Relationship, if you can call lingering touches and mind games a relationship, I Do, Relationship Study, Soft Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Soft Takami Keigo | Hawks, Canon-Typical Angst, Hawks is tossin him from roof to roof for that laugh and smile ya'll
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599711
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Show Me The Way
Pairing: Yuta x Original Female Character | Reader
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Explicit sexual content (Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex), Language, Yuta has tattoos and nipples piercings (I put that out in the universe, please make it happen)
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: After an unpleasant meeting with her mother, Chloe seeks comfort in her best friend Yuta. She thinks back to how they started and how they got here. Two hearts beating together, but can the two hearts be together?
Random Word Generator Prompt:
Must be about Yuta
Must contain these words: Therapist, Benefit, Judgment
A/N: This is part of the Random Word Generator Challenge with a friend. I tried to keep to 2k words, but it's slightly longer. Oops! Also, please practice safe sex!
Dinner with her mother leaves Chloe fuming. Chloe’s mother has a habit of dropping by unannounced under the guise of motherly duty only to remind Chloe how disappointing she is. In her eyes, Chloe could never meet her standards for perfection. After graduating high school, Chloe left to go to college on the other side of the country to escape her mother’s suffocating clutches. Unfortunately, her mother started making unannounced visits when she sensed Chloe trying to distance herself.
For the sake of her sanity, Chloe always spends their time together going through a list of her favorite things - shows, songs, food, even her favorite socks. This was something her Therapist had taught her to do - do something pleasant when faced with something unpleasant. This time, she only makes a list of 25 songs before her mother cuts their meeting short. Fortunately for Chloe, her mother has to get drinks with her business partners - the real reason she’s in town.
Now back in the comfort of her apartment, Chloe does breathing exercise from a meditation app to calm down. This is step 1 in her “post-motherly interrogation meltdown” recovery manual. Step 2 is waiting for Yuta’s text. A notification appears on her phone alerting her of Yuta’s text.
I’ll be over in a sec
your mom she sucks
The text calms her a little. Step 3 was set to go. Yuta is the only person she finds she can confide in without judgment.
While she waits for Yuta to arrive, she thinks back to how their friendship was molded. They met during Freshman year when they both ran into their English class late and the Professor kept them both after class to reprimand them. They both sulked out of the class, but once out of the classroom they burst into fits of laughter. Their shared misfortune from the start of their college careers led to their inseparable friendship.
Yuta was an open book. He spoke freely and Chloe never had to second guess his intentions. It took Chloe some time to open up, but Yuta was patient and never pried for information. Chloe’s relationship with her mother further strained when she told her she switched her major from Business Administration to Psychology. Yuta was there to witness the call and was there to lift her spirits by dragging her to a wild night out to get absolutely trashed.
Their relationship took a turn after Chloe had drunkenly confessed to Yuta how sexy she thought his tattoos were.
“Only my tattoos?” Yuta teased.
Chloe shoved Yuta. “You’re sexy. And I’d fuck you right here. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Yuta laughed. “I only wanted the truth. And for the record, you’re sexy and I wanna fuck you too.”
Chloe blushed, more from his words than the alcohol. She leaned in to give him a kiss with more tongue than her sober self would have allowed. Yuta broke the kiss and looked in Chloe’s eyes.
“While I want nothing more than to fuck you till you can’t walk, you’re drunk. If you remember this tomorrow, then we can pick up where we left off,” Yuta offered.
The next morning, Chloe sported a hangover, but remembered everything from the night before. Yuta knew she’d be embarrassed to face him, so he came over with breakfast to help lighten the mood before they talked. She was silent while eating breakfast, but after her stomach felt slightly better she had enough courage to broach their drunken proposition.
“Soooo the cat’s out of the bag,” Chloe tried to joke.
“You mean pussy?” Yuta replied in a playful tone.
Chloe scoffed while Yuta laughed at her reaction.
“Well, we’re both hot and we know how we feel about each other, SOOOO,” Yuta replied. Though he wanted more, he wanted Chloe to decide what she was comfortable with.
“Yuta, I don’t want a relationship,” Chloe shot down instantly. Judging by the look of shock on Yuta’s face, she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Don’t get me wrong, I want you. I want you SO bad, but, you know, me and relationships, they don’t work out,” Chloe explained.
Yuta did know. He witnessed Chloe have her heart broken countless times throughout their friendship. He guessed her failed relationships might have also had something to do with her mother.
“Well, you can have me how you want me, Chloe. We can still be the same Chloe and Yuta, best of buds, but now upgraded with the physical benefits. You know, friends with benefits,” Yuta suggested cautiously. He looked rather shy and seemed a little unsure of himself.
“Are you okay with that?” Chloe eyed him carefully.
“Seriously? Already trying to kill off my genius idea?” Yuta reverted back to his usual playful nature.
“I don’t want to hold you back from relationships. If you ever want to move on or get tired of me, just tell me. I’ll be fine.”
Yuta reached out to cradle her face in his hands.
“Chloe, don’t overthink it. I’ll never get tired of you. We’ll always be friends. We’re just two very hot friends having sex like all the time. It’s what the universe wants.”
Chloe laughed and sealed their deal with a kiss.
The knocking on her front door breaks Chloe from her reverie. She quickly opens the door and Yuta practically jumps in to hug her.
“I came as fast as I could,” Yuta says out of breath. Chloe feels slightly guilty for making him rush over.
“Thanks Yuta. Sorry if I interrupted something,” Chloe says as she sits on the couch. He shakes his head to brush off her apology.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Yuta asks softly as he sits down and places a hand on her knee.
Chloe is touched by his genuine concern, but brushes it off. She takes his hand off her knee and straddles him.
“You know I didn’t call you here to be my Therapist,” Chloe replies. She grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and swiftly takes it off.
“You want me that bad?” Yuta tilts his head back on the couch and laughs.
“Shut up and kiss me, idiot,” Chloe demands. Yuta smirks before he molds their lips together. He starts off slow and tender, before she licks his lower lip signalling him to go deepen the kiss.
Chloe quickly takes her clothes off while Yuta struggles out of his jeans. Growing impatient, Chloe pulls Yuta closer as she sits naked on the couch. She moves her hands down his chest before her fingers delicately brush over his nipple piercings. He lets out a soft moan before he grabs her hands.
“Tonight it’s about you,” Yuta says, taking her hands off of him.
Yuta kneels in front of her and throws her legs over his shoulders. He licks her clit and feels her legs shaking already. He slowly inserts a finger in her pussy while he continues licking her clit. He sneaks a peek at Chloe and sees her writhing in pleasure.
“You’re so wet,” Yuta comments.
“Shut up and make me come,” Chloe demands. She grabs his hair and pushes his face closer to her clit.
Sensing her impatience, he adds another finger and picks up the pace of the thrusts. He slightly curves his fingers and goes back to licking her clit. Chloe tightens her hold on Yuta’s hair and curses when she feels her orgasm come over her. Once she comes down from her high, she lets go of Yuta’s hair. She looks down and sees Yuta looking in her eyes while licking his soaked fingers.
Before Yuta takes his boxers off, Chloe pushes him onto the couch. Chloe kneels in front of him and softly kisses the butterfly tattoo peaking out of his boxers on his left hip. She grabs his dick out of his boxers and smiles at how hard he already is. She licks the head of his cock before slowly licking up and down the shaft. Yuta lets out a moan when she takes his whole dick in her mouth. The sight of her sucking his dick makes him want to lose control and fuck her mouth. Chloe’s mouth keeps a steady pace on his dick, which makes him whine.
Yuta grabs her hair and pulls her up for her kiss. Tasting Yuta’s restlessness, Chloe straddles him and lines up his cock to her pussy. Without breaking the kiss, she slowly lowers herself before raising her hips then slamming back down faster. Yuta grabs her face to break the kiss.
“God, your pussy feels so fucking good,” Yuta says before he delicately kisses her earlobe.
Chloe finds her rhythm and picks up the pace taking him deeper each time. Yuta’s hands move up to massage her breasts, inciting a moan from Chloe.
Yuta can sense that Chloe is about to reach her orgasm soon by the way she’s digging her nails into his shoulders. Taking over, he grabs her hips to steady her before he starts thrusting up into her pussy at a rapid pace.
“FUCK! I’m gonna come,” Chloe warns as she starts rubbing her clit.
Chloe moans as her pussy tightens around Yuta’s dick. Yuta kisses her as she rides out her orgasm. Yuta reaches to pull out, but Chloe stops him.
“I want you to come inside me,” Chloe whispers in his ear before she kisses his neck.
Yuta grabs her ass to press her body closer to him and picks up the pace of his thrusts. Chloe kisses down his chest before licking his left nipple piercing and rubbing the other.
“Fuck! Keep doing that,” Yuta demands.
Not long after, Yuta feels the familiar feeling of pleasure and comes deep inside Chloe. He pulls her face away from his nipple piercing to meet him in a kiss. Coming down from his high, he holds her close as they steady their breathing.
Yuta quickly grabs some tissues as he pulls out and wipes his cum off before it drips out Chloe and onto the couch. He throws the tissues away before returning to the couch to snuggle with Chloe.
Although neither of them would say it out loud, cuddling after sex was one of their favorite things to do together. Yuta buries his face in her hair, pondering how to best choose his next words. He gives Chloe a kiss on her temple, catching her attention.
“You know I’m here for you whenever you need me.” Yuta reminds her as he combs her hair with his fingers.
“I know,” Chloe replies, fearful of what Yuta may say next. Yuta wasn’t usually much of a talker after sex.
“Chloe, I want to be there for you even more than I already am. If you let me,” Yuta confesses.
“Yuta,” Chloe starts. Even if he doesn’t explicitly say it, she knows he wants more.
“Come on, Chloe.”
“You know why. You know what I’m like.”
“Yes I do and that’s why I want you,” Yuta tries to convince her.
Yuta accepting her despite all her issues and flaws should be comforting, it is comforting, but Chloe doesn’t want to let him in. Chloe sighs and closes her eyes. This was not what she wanted to deal with after mindblowing sex. She needs to keep herself centered from her conflicting emotions.
“Forget what I said. I’m leaving,” Yuta announces. He quickly picks up his boxers and jeans from where they were strewn.
Chloe stays silent as she watches Yuta get dressed, unable to find the words that might comfort him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same as Yuta, but she didn’t feel that she deserved something so good when there was so much bad in her life.
“The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner you’ll want me back anyway,” He lashes out as he grabs his shirt.
“Yuta, It’s not like that,” Chloe starts.
“No it’s cool. I know my place.” Yuta hastily slips on his shoes and opens the front door. “See you tomorrow.”
He steps out of the apartment without turning back.
Chloe feels bad for putting him through this. She feels bad he wants more. She feels bad she can’t bring herself to say she wants more too.
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Logan: Intrusive thoughts
On the one hand, another Logan-centric thought fic that was fun to write because I do enjoy writing characters thinking things. On the other hand, projection? Who is she?
Trigger warnings: intrusive thoughts, model student anxiety (just grades, nonrealistic stuff).
Stabbing his hand seemed like an attractive option to Logan, if he closed his eyes, squinted, and pretended he was Remus. Though of course, Remus would invariably be more normal than he was, and so even he would be disgusted by this.
He cursed his stupid brain - this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Grade A students weren’t supposed to screw up. No - that wasn’t right. Grade A* students weren’t supposed to screw up. Grade A students were the screw ups. It was like saying hey - I can do this, but I can’t actually be bothered to properly revise to get a good grade.
Logically, he knew stabbing himself wasn’t an option. It would never be - it was entirely ridiculous. A moment of relief before the overwhelming dread that he would finally have to confess to his thoughts, and that wasn’t something he could do. He would never be able to look his parents in the eyes again.
In other moments though, when he entertained the possibility, it felt like it could be a good idea. Something that he actually wanted to complete. He knew how he would do it - it was always a vivid picture, hand on a non-descript table, and with either a steak knife or a carving knife. He knew the scar it would leave, and for how long he would have to wear bandages for. He knew that it would be his left hand, so that it wouldn’t interfere with his ability to write. It might have been illogical but he wasn’t stupid.
Despite what his grades screamed.
He tried to drag himself out of his thoughts - if he wanted to maintain at the very least an A he would have to revise.
Another image floated in his mind, and Logan was very close to laying his head on the table and sleeping for the rest of the night, despite the fact that it was 8pm and he hadn’t gone to sleep before one for a year and three months.
Maybe if he stared at a blank computer screen for long enough he could convince himself that he wasn’t insane and that he had a work ethic.
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Mention of death, mention of violence, mention of knives, bold text, red text, hmm a bit sad too? Depending on how attached you could be to my ocs.
Adessa had a normal childhood. Two very loving parents. Although, when she turned 6, something tragic happened. Her dad was very loving and caring. So when he saw a human at his doorstep, he decided to take them in and give them a place to call home. The human was reluctant at first, but then agreed to stay there. Adessa and her mother introduced themselves to the human. The human felt very happy and cared for. But after a while and a few days of living there, the human would always be anxious when being around them. When confronted by Adessa’s dad of what was wrong, the human grabbed the closest sharp tool they could find. A kitchen knife. The human saw what was going on. They knew it was forbidden for any human to be here. They knew demons would kill humans. They heard about this and immediately got worried about the demons they were living with. So they did the first thing they could think of. Instead of telling Adessa’s father what they were worried about, they charged at him. And since he couldn’t react fast enough, the knife got stabbed right into his stomach. Then, the human ran off. The worst part is that Adessa and her mother saw the whole thing. How the knife pierced right through him. How quickly his expression changed after it did. How his body fell limb onto the ground. With his last words being
Until he perished. Of course, Adessa and her mother were devastated. Over the years, her mother became overwhelmed. She didn’t feel like doing anything anymore. She wanted to stay strong for her child, so when money got low, she would hunt for unfortunate humans that wandered into the realm for some extra money. She had let out her pent-up rage by killing humans. And by the time Adessa turned 10, she had a full hatred for them. Adessa soon became hateful of them too. She didn’t want to hate them at first, but once she really sat herself down and thought about it, she truly believed that they were the ones to blame. Zara soon became one of the most powerful human hunters in the realm. And Adessa’s hatred for humans grew alongside with her. She believed that one day she would follow in her mothers footsteps. Until a small human girl came up to her one day.
MY FINGERS HURT AUGH- anyways, this is Adessa’s backstory! I’m hoping it wasn’t too dark or sad. I’m not really one for writing angst or anything upsetting, so I honestly don’t think I did too good of a job on making it sad lol that could either be a good or bad thing depending on how you feel. And I honestly think this could be confusing in a way, especially since her dad died while he’s a demon and whatnot- I still need to explain the universe it’s set in lol and no, I won’t make it religious, it’ll be my own universe that I created since people do have mixed feelings on religion. But I’m hoping you read ALL that. And if you did, thank you! If you didn’t, still thank you!
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Angst ist nichts Rationales. Und manche Geheimnisse wachsen durch diese Angst, bis sie zu Monstern in unserem Schrank werden. Bis wir uns irgendwann nicht mehr trauen, ihn zu öffnen. Nicht einmal in Anwesenheit einer Person, der wir unser Leben anvertrauen würden. Manchmal auch, um sie zu beschützen.
Drowning Roses— Keefe x Fitz
A/N: Angst and more angst. Haha. Proofread and everything. Look at all that effort.
TW: angst, d//th, gr/ef, verbal/emotional ab/se mention, p/rents, hating p/rents, tell me if I should add more!
Summary: In which Keefe plans a painting, and Fitz shreds a rose and speaks ill of the dead
Taglist: @beautifuldaysahead @real-smooth @sunset-telepath @the-sky-isnt-blueee @dreaminq-out-loud @stardustanddaffodils @jaxtheoraliestanner @scribblesnsketches05 @silver-shade-and-stars @a-legendary-love-story @turquoise-skyyyy @roman-exe @completekeefitztrash @silver-war @darwinmaximoff @b-blurryyfacee @blxckh0les42
Tell me if you want to be added or removed from my taglist!
Why did they only speak good about the dead?
All of them, every one of them; they spoke of Alden’s accomplishments, his caring, the joy he took in his work.
There was no mention of any faults.
As if the slate was wiped clean after death, and those he left behind were only allowed to recall his daring and smiles and love.
They only spoke well of him, of his charming grins and authoritative orders.
It was unfortunate, because for all of his good parts (although they were a little hard to remember in the wake of shock and the slight, shameful tinge of relief) he was bad, and for all of his smiles there were frowns, and for all his daring, he was a coward.
He was a coward, and it was only after death that it was realized.
Not by the people who mattered; not by the people who exalted him and praised him, the people who believed he was one to be upheld.
The only person who knew that he was really and truly a coward at heart was the one who had been one of them, once.
The one who had believed his father to be the best of the best. Until he was gone, and the truth of the years was laid bare.
But the living only spoke well of the dead, so that one person who knew the truth couldn't speak it, lest he be scolded for daring to tarnish the memory of the great dead man.
The great, kind, caring, hardworking, stern, ignorant, bigoted coward of a man.
But Fitz could only stay silent, because one mustn't speak ill of the dead.
Keefe found him next to the river.
He spared the empath a single glance before continuing to stare into the river. He held a single red rose, and was plucking petals from the blossom and throwing them into the rushing water.
The flower was almost bare.
Keefe wondered how long he'd been here, alone.
He sat down next to Fitz slowly, tilting his head to the side as he studied the boy slowly shredding apart a rose, the red petals sinking into the sparkling river before flowing away with the current.
A painting flashed into his mind, and he tucked it away carefully for later.
Fitz ignored him, and Keefe was content to sit there and say nothing. Soon enough, however, Fitz's head turned to him, and Keefe met his eyes.
Angry eyes, saddened and grieving and regretful. But angry, mostly.
Keefe wondered what he was angry about.
He hoped it wasn't his presence.
"Why are you here," Fitz whispered, his voice cutting through the sound of the rushing river.
Keefe had an answer prepared. "For you," he answered softly. "Because I thought you might have more to say."
Fitz snorted, reaching up to tear another petal from the rose. Keefe watched it flutter into the water, a drop of blood sailing into the deep.
He added more detail to the painting in his mind.
Perhaps he'd call it "Bleeding Roses" or something like it.
"I don't need you here," Fitz told him.
"But do you want me here?" Keefe studied the telepath, watching the way his fists clenched over the stem of the rose, the rough flick of his fingers as he tossed another petal to drown in the river.
He was silent, then- "You don't have to-"
"I do," Keefe interrupted, leaning back on his elbows. "Now," he added, eyes skating over Fitz's tense face, "Why don't you tell me what you really wanted to say about him?"
Fitz's gaze shot to him, but not in surprise. They knew each other too well, and Fitz's fake eulogy had been full of lies.
"I wrote out what I really wanted to say," Fitz muttered. "My mom didn't approve."
"I figured," Keefe responded. Fitz went to tear another petal from the rose, but he found that it was stripped clean. He clenched his fist around the stem, and it snapped.
He flung the whole thing into the river, standing up to pace the bank of the river. Keefe tilted his head to observe his tense movements.
"My father," Fitz began, "was beloved. By his family, his friends, the people he lorded over with the belief that he was better than they were."
Keefe's eyes narrowed in agreement as Fitz paused, continuing to pace back and forth.
"He was hardworking," the telepath conceded. "He cared about his work and did it well. But he loved his work more than his family, and did it well at the expense of his love for us.
"He was selfish, bigoted, and often cruel."
Fitz let out a breath, and Keefe tracked the tear sliding down his cheek as it dropped off his chin. As much as he wanted to wipe it away, Fitz needed to do this.
"He hid his nature from his children until we were old enough to understand that his family was an obligation, expected of him but not something he truly wanted. He covered up his uncaring actions with fake love and pride, parading us in front of his friends until we had no more use and were sent back to our rooms.
"Maybe that was simply how he was. Or maybe it was a fault of us, that we weren't good enough for him. Because he never let us feel like we were enough, and I will never forgive him for that."
Quick inhale, then another breath out. As if Fitz was forcing himself to breathe. As if he wished he didn't have to.
A tear landed on the ground, and Keefe ground his fingers into the grass to keep from reaching for his friend.
"He cared about his status more than his family, and he bothered to care about us only when it suited him. He destroyed my childhood, caused my brother to run away and become a murderer, and crippled my sister's self-worth so horribly that she cannot stand the color green because he told her once that it clashes with her eyes.
"My father was a horrible, rotten person, and I am ashamed to be called his son."
Keefe waited for Fitz to continue, but he didn't, instead folding onto his knees as if he couldn't hold up his weight any longer. Keefe rushed to catch him, and then the telepath was in his arms as they rocked back and forth on the riverbank.
"I hated him, Keefe," Fitz whispered as Keefe's fingers rubbed his back gently in an attempt to soothe him. "I hate him."
Keefe felt tears welling in his own eyes, and he quickly blinked them away as Fitz pulled back to look him in the eyes.
"I hate him," he repeated. "So why do I feel so terrible now that he's gone?"
The previous painting flashed into Keefe's mind, and he saw the roses bleeding into the waves, saw Fitz's tears flowing into the water, saw the vibrant green of the stem contrasting Fitz's dark skin.
The Grieving Prince, he might call it. Bleeding Roses and Broken Hearts.
"I don't know, Fitz," Keefe said quietly, gently brushing a strand of Fitz's hair out of his eyes. "But you'll get through this. I know you will. Because no matter what he thought... you're strong enough."
"I was never enough for him," he confessed, tracing a finger along Keefe's palm. "I tried so hard, and..."
"I don't care what he thought," Keefe said fiercely, pressing his forehead to Fitz's until their breath mingled in the air between them. "You're more than enough for me."
Maybe Della and Biana hated Alden as much as he did.
But they never said it out loud, so he didn't either.
After all, one must never speak wrong of the dead.
Perhaps they viewed it as disrespecting his memory. Tarnishing his reputation, something he would never, ever have allowed while he lived.
Perhaps it was just another way he controlled them still.
But either way, Fitz was perfectly aware of the unspoken rule that everyone always obeyed.
One must never speak badly of the dead, not even the slightest insult.
As if the offense they had caused could be wiped from a mind as easily as remarking on how kind someone had been.
The strangers who patted his cheeks and handed him flowers told him that he should be proud to have such a kind, charming, successful father.
Alden was kind. But only when it suited him.
He did smile, but only when it was necessary.
He hugged his family and friends, and he laughed and laid compliments at the feet of strangers, but he also turned away and frowned and insulted those close to him, and Fitz never knew when his mood would change.
His father terrified and angered him even as Fitz sought his approval, and he hated himself for it.
He hated Alden more.
But he could speak of this to no one but Keefe, because one must always avoid speaking ill of the dead.