#But true hate... nngh.

[mystxmomo]

hi hiii

so. what if. iiii. enabled u to be autistic on the internet again :3c

i wanna hear your thoughts on eilistraee and vhaerauns relationship! the nitty gritty, the dynamics, how they think of each other vs how they act, and how thats changed over time+how its reflected in their church

im ADORING all your posts on it if i could id print them out and eat them 🫶

Okay. So this is officially the third part of my "I need to go crazy on some character analysis" Saga. My analysis on Vhaeraun is Here, and my analysis on Eilistraee is Here. I recommend, if you're stumbling across this post in the wild as tumblr tends to do, reading those two first so that you have an idea of how I see these two characters and where the basis of my argument for their characterization comes from. If I need to reference something from either post, I'll quote it here. But y'know. Need be said.

Okay so.

I believe this post is going to the most subjective of mine. I am going to try and pull up canon screenshots from War of the Spider Queen, The Lady Penitent, and Evermeet, but unlike how you kind of get told directly how the drow gods behave and hold themselves and a lot of things end up getting built on them, I would argue so many hands have touched DnD and so many interpretations of their relationship have sprung up over the books that it's hard to give a truly simplified "This is how they see one another."

Water is wet statement, relationships are complicated.

Anyway. Given what my thesis is, I am going to be talking a fair bit about abusive family dynamics in this one as well. My goal for this (and any character relationship I do, really) if to try and keep it very fair. I think a of people make the mistake when talking about Eilistraee and Vhaeraun's relationship of picking a side. Like this idea of one of them being right and one of them being wrong and needing to "Fix" the other. And I don't think that's true at all. I think to be able to understand why they feel the way they do about one another and why their relationship is the way it is, you need to respect both of their characters individually.

(Granted, I think this should be true of any relationship you're writing for in fiction. If I can preach for a second, I think even if you don't like a character, you have to be able to respect the character to properly portray them.)

Final note before I get into this. Everyone thank @abracadav-r again for being on screenshot duty. The posts wouldn't get done nearly as fast without them, they know exactly where to find these little moments.

So. That all said. Lets get into it.

I've made a smaller joke post about what I think their dynamic is like before here. But now that you're giving me the opportunity to do so, I will go indepth about it. Yes.

I'm kinda of the opinion that Eilistraee is more incorrect about Vhaeraun than Vhaeraun is incorrect about Eilistraee (But also that this is the result of DND Canon not being entirely fair to Vhaeraun.)

Let's get the discussion about my thesis about the Elven Pantheon being an analogy for an Abusive family on a divine scale out of the way first, because it's something I've mentioned a few time's, but only every really shorthanded. And I think here, in the discussion about relations, is a GREAT place to start and actually explore that.

Now. I should probably start by saying, I don't think this was intended by DnD. Like, I think when they were originally making this lore, it was the intention to just make a justifiable evil worth killing. DND came out of a time of the romantic fantasy, the very Tolkien and Fairytale esc ideas of good and evil and have this classic hero's journey power fantasy ideal to it. Other people have gone into depth about that origin with far better sourcing and dissection than I can ever hope to, but basically: DnD is absolutely (as all art is) a product of it's time and of the community it stemmed from.

However, I personally think those themes and ideas are a little outdated, and a modern audience (myself being the modern audience) tends to be more enthralled by very nuanced interpretations of good and evil, and find indepth character driven narratives more engaging. And I think that for what this mythos has become over the course of it's 60+ years of evolution, you can reinterpret the narrative to be a fascinating depiction of a mythos that echo's the abusive family structure.

Copying and Pasting from my Eilistraee Essay:

It is of my opinion that, when you look at the Eilistrae-Vhaeraun Dynamic and how they were treated by Lolth and Corellon, you're looking at a classic Golden Child/Scrape Goat dynamic. This is important to mention here because I do think that's important context within how Eilistraee (the person) see's and understands the world, and where her mind is at when it comes to the perception of her sense of self. To VASTLY oversimplify about how emotionally abusive family structures work by a lot, when you look at emotionally abusive families with siblings, you tend to find a pattern where one child ends up getting the bulk of the favoritism and affection (The golden child), while the other takes the bulk of the abuse and tends to take a of blame and is seen as being deserving of the abuse (The scrapegoat.) I'll get a little bit more into the specifics of what that means for their relationship in a later post.[*] Now. Calling her the Golden Child, but I don't think being the Golden Child is strictly a good thing. In a lot of ways, I think a lot of golden children end up very emotionally stilted, and I think you kind of see that in Eilistraee. She HAS to be the perfect one. And she's had this expectation to be The Good One placed on her shoulders since she was young. Golden Children are often blinded to the abuse their siblings face because they themselves are not subjected to the same kind of abuse.

[*] And well. It's that later post!

In emotionally abusive families, siblings tend to be pitted against eachother, either unintentionally as a result of the Golden Child being the subject of a parents time, attention, resources, and affection, or as a purposeful attempt on the part of a parent to put divides in a family. In the real life world, it is more often the first. I think a lot of people think Abusers are more like Lolth where there's an intentional "I looked at you and from the day you were born decided to make your life hell."

But I would argue the tricky thing about abusive family structures (Especially with parent-child situations), is that more often then not, the abusers love the idea of the person they're abusing. To them, what they're doing is love. It is very rare that an abuser is this knowing evil schemer that actively sits and thinks to themself that "That's my least favorite child, they don't deserve my attention."

(Though, as a small side tangent not immediately related to the fictional character, you might see this logic manifest more in the way finances are weaponized in abuse, especially see in America where college is more expensive and therefore often used as a control tactic. IE; My wonderful son wants to go into STEM, why would I waste money by giving it to my son who wants to do art college. Because people get comically evil about money.)

Instead, emotional abuse is often more insidious. It's... I'm going to put the blame on everything that goes wrong on my son (Who I left in the hands of his physically abusive mother to have his arm constantly bent behind his back by her) I can't bring myself to believe that my daughter would ever want to scheme against me. YOU could have been good once, but you're evil because you're not happy, you're too moody, you're too violent. I'm not even going to give you the chance or the environment to grow, because it's just in your nature to be evil, and because you are evil because you were born evil that all that goes wrong is your fault.

You know. That kind of logic.

So. Eilistraee was Corellon's Golden Child. She was the free spirited happy one. She was the one that loved to hunt and dance. She was the good one.

(But often, when a scrape goat leaves the family, the golden child becomes the new target.

Y'know. Like..

Corellon gave up on the idea of trying to turn his son Vhaeraun to abandon his ways. He vowed to kill Vhaeraun if he ever tried to hurt his sister. Nevertheless, the Masked Lord did threaten the Dark Maiden's life, without known action against him on Corellon's part.

Corellon's servant Solars claimed that, with this act, Eilistraee had exhausted her purpose, because the willing had been saved, and the unwilling cast down as a necessary sacrifice.

The in-story context for this being honestly worse and kind of containing bad racial implications:

“Her soul was destroyed,” Felarathael said solemnly. “But before she died, she saved many. She cleansed the taint from hundreds of drow who might otherwise have been condemned.” “But the rest!” Lashrael wailed. “Thousands! Hundreds of thousands! No hope of redemption for them, with Eilistraee gone. Condemned to darkness and despair, forevermore!” “Another necessary sacrifice,” Felarathael said without a trace of emotion. “Else the game would have been lost.”

This, to me, is the framework of Vhaeraun and Eilistraee's relationship.

Likewise, the Masked Lord nurtures an abiding hatred of Eilistraee. The Dark Maiden always held Corellon's favor more than her hateful brother, and she thwarted Vhaeraun's early efforts to bring all the Ilythiiri (southern, dark-skinned elves) under his sway, enabling Lolth and Ghaunadaur to make great inroads among those who would become the drow.

I'm under the impression that Eilistraee doesn't know Vhaeraun. She has this idea of who he is in her head seemingly both based on the what their father thought of him, and as a result of being an outsider looking at the things he did at the hand of his mother. (And again, let's be clear and establish in this post. That wasn't WHOLLY Lolth. Vhaeraun did play his part. But I don't think Eilistraee see's that, I think she strictly see's an eager climb for power) And then she makes a lot of assumptions about his motivations based on the idea of him she's made in her head that reaffirm that idea.

On the other hand, I think Vhaeraun understands exactly the kind of person his sister is, because it's really not that hard to understand who Eilistraee is. She really does just mean well. While I consider her to be a lot more guarded and lonely then people tend to give her credit for, I don't think she's being insincere with her wants and wishes and you don't have to doubt what her intentions are. Instead, the ways that I think Vhaeraun is often wrong about how well she can handle herself and how strong her allies are by 4e, and what that could mean for drow as a whole. Because he's so willing to discredit her as a threat, he doesn't pay attention to her, and because he doesn't pay attention to her I don't think he realized she'd gotten friendly to people like... Mysta the goddess of magic.

And being realistic, even if he had known, I don't think he understands the weight of her being friendly TO people like Mystra because he himself only ever makes allies, not friends amongst gods.

Now. The reason I capped that whole screenshot above is actually because it contains a very interesting bit of framework that I think proves this. Even back in the 2e source books, the phrasing of these things matters. If it was a matter of Vhaeraun thinking that something was the case, they would have mentioned it. However, the specific way that it's set up in that passage is: "It's not that Vhaeraun thinks Eilistraee's involvement in circumventing his climb to power allowed Lolth and Ghaunadaur to gain power. Her involvement DID allow Lolth and Ghaunadaur to gain power."

And I don't think she's aware of that. But Vhaeraun is.

To further this, we're to copy/paste a passage from Sacrifice of the Widow. Now. This is from the perspective of a Vhaeraun worshiper, and it holds as much bias as Eilistraee's priestesses have towards him. But. Because it correlates with metatextual information we have from all the way back in 1998, I'm inclined to say it's not a full dishonesty, just a biased truth.

The dance might have been beautiful, had it not been a violation of the sacred order. Had Eilistraee not interfered, Vhaeraun might have united all of the darkelves under a single deity millennia ago, but Eilistraee had proved as greedy as Lolth and had stolen the females away from the Masked Lord’s worship. She’d taught them to exclude males from her circle, to subjugate and revile them instead. Vhaeraun’s followers had learned a bitter lesson. Females could not be trusted.

Compare this to how Eilistraee speaks of Vhaeraun's influence in Evermeet: Island of the Elves.

Like... Eilistaee. There are bigger threats out there than your brother But. She's so blinded by her history with him that she can only ever see her brothers influence is a bloodstain on the land.

As I mentioned in my other post, I think Eilistraee is a biased narrator in this scene. I don't think Vhaeraun wants his sister to die for the crime of existing. I think his feelings on his sister are way more complicated than his feelings on either of his parents. And we know when Vhaeraun explicitly wants someone dead, because the text would have told us that.

...

So, to understand Vhaeraun and Eilistraee's relationship, I do think we need to talk about The Masked Lady.

Given how much of DnD is oral tradition and people building on concepts that the games give to us, I think people feel more comfortable engaging with some of these things through the wiki and building off of the idea of the ideas they get from the wiki without searching out the original source. And to be clear, this isn't like, judgement for doing that. Nevermind that the IP is older than I am twice over, that a lot of old blog posts are only acceptable through niche internet archive links, and that a lot the source books are neither applicable to 5e or still within print. I'M personally guilty of doing it all of the time.

Instead, the point I'm making is because of how the realms is set up and how people engage with DND, not a lot of people know when plot point comes from a source book, a blog post, a prose book, an official magazine, when something was fan-submitted and made canon, or Ed Greens personal twitter/discord. They all kind of merge together to create a collective canon. I think, as a result, a lot of people end up engaging with these concepts with the same amount of abstraction. But the thing about The Masked Lady is that they're like. A book character. This isn't just a concept that was placed out into world abstractly, they're a fully fleshed out character within The Lady Penitent.

This is important to us and our purposes of engaging with these characters on a more transformative level rather than at a dnd table. Being a character, we can look at how they behave and what the actual intent of their portrayal was. And I want to show you a few things, because I have an argument I would like to make given that portrayal.

==

A voice called to them: a voice that was neither male nor female, but both. A moment later, it became a pool of utter silence. Then song, then silence. Opposites, twined together, yet somehow harmonious. Side by side, the awarenesses that were Kâras and Valdar drifted to the place where the song-silence was coming from. It caught them like leaves and swirled them up toward itself. They drifted in front of an enormous face. Moonlight bathed the face’s upper half in shining radiance; the lower half was shadowed in utter blackness. A glint of blue danced across eyes the color of moonstones. Masked Lord, Kâras asked. Is it you? A feminine laugh rustled the mask. Masked … Lady? he ventured. The chuckle deepened, became male. Hands moved to the blackness that was the deity’s mask. Fingers gripped its edges. Kâras tensed, and felt the eager anticipation of the awareness that was Valdar. The mask lifted. Kâras wept. So did Valdar—and as he did, Kâras saw into the other Nightshadow’s heart. The emotions that had prompted their tears were as different as moonlight from shadow.

==

“Masked Lord,” Kâras prayed. “Is it your will the breach be opened? Have you—” He hesitated, then forced himself to say it. “Have you allied yourself with the Ancient One?” This time, the god answered. Not in words, but in the distant peal of a hunting horn. That alone wouldn’t have convinced Kâras; it might have been one of the priestesses, signaling the others. But as the horn sounded, a rectangle of darkness with two eyeholes appeared in the air a short distance away, within the tunnel leading to the ruined temple. The bottom of this “mask” fluttered, as if the mouth behind it were lending its breath to the hunting horn’s peal. Dots of angry red blazed where the eyes would have been. That decided it. Kâras wouldn’t run. He’d fight.

==

===

My argument about The Masked Lady is this: Despite taking a lot of Eilistraee's visage and Churches Iconograpy, When you look at how The Masked Lady behaves in practice I would argue that this isn't actually strictly Eilistraee. The Masked Lady feels like a new character that is both Vhaeraun and Eilistraee..... but also Neither Vhaeraun and Eilistraee. In that strictly esoteric kind of way, by merging their aspects together they've created a new god made of their parts.

And on one hand, you can read some of this as Eilistraee Masquerading as her brother to try and get his church to work with hers, but on an authorial level? I don't know if that was the intent. For one, I don't actually think Eilistraee is good at being manipulative, she's too well intentioned. She'd have fallen apart under the weight of that lie.

Granted, I do think with both of them being in there Eilistraee is more "in control." Vhaeraun is absolutely ""Dead"" in at least some ways. The piece he puts down representing himself is destroyed in the Sava game, Eilistraee ends up with his mask, and Lolth is able to show off his corpse in the astral plane.

But even all of that aside, I'm tapping in both Ed Greenwood's thoughts for this and something from Faiths & Avatars.

(I'm going to copy this summary from the FR wiki page on dead powers because, as always, it's quite good at summarization. But as always, I've double checked Faiths & Avatars to be sure)

Sometimes, the memory and personality of a deity was separated from their power and true form at the moment of their death, typically by the interaction of the magical turbulence of their death with the magic of a powerful relic or artifact into the same area. In such cases, the deity remained awake but imprisoned, in a sense, though vastly uncomfortable with their much-reduced state.

As such, I think during The Masked Lady era, three things were true simultaneously.

There was a part of Vhaeraun that was dead. That's the part of him on the astral plane. And even that part of him seemed to hold mild consciousness. But I also think a part of him was trapped by Mystra in a dream, and another part of him existed simultaneously within his sister creating a new entity as The Masked Lady, in the same way that Eilistraee seemed to both exist as herself AND The Masked Lady separate from herself as she's playing the Sava game. Because these are gods. Their existence does not exist in singularity.

But. Why does this matter to Vhaeraun and Eilistraee's relationship. Why do I think this is an important talking point for them.

Because I think the fact that they exist together implies a level of respect and understanding towards one another. This is not how this would have happened if they truly hated one another. What happened with Vhaeraun and Eilistraee seems closer to what happened with Zandilar the Dancer and Bast (Absorbed and became Sharess) or (Sehanine Moonbow, Aerdrie Faenya, and Hanali Celanil) > (Came together to become Angharradh and notedly, can separate to spent time apart as times have changed.)

This feels like. Notedly different, compared to what happened with (for example) Ulutiu and Auril, where he got entirely subsumed by her.

For a moment, they were one god. And they could have only synergized as one if they understood eachothers intentions well enough to agree to be one.

==

It's worth noting before I get into this section. Both the idea that Vhaeraun didn't actually die and was put in ⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹❇Mystra's Dream Prison <3 ❇⊹⋆ ˚｡⋆ and that upon returning to life he started working with Eilistraee are not actually ""canon"" to 5e. They are, like many things, Ed Green-ism's that a lot of people (myself included, because I do actually think he's an incredibly creative person with good character building ideas) take as canon. Despite taking it as canon, I think it's worth mentioning that there is no official source material to pull from for these ideas, because unlike the masked lady, these two ideas exist as concepts to be built off of rather than media to be examined.

We can only logic and reason what happened between them and how it's changed their relationship using everything else we have.

Posted from the FR wiki:

"The Grand History of the Realms explicitly says that Vhaeraun's assassination attempt failed and Eilistraee killed him. However, Ed Greenwood suggests that Eilistraee didn't actually kill her brother. The Dark Maiden defeated Vhaeraun with the indirect help of her ally Mystra, as the Weave frustrated the Masked Lord's magic while enhancing Eilistraee's. The goddess temporarily took her brother's portfolio, and trapped his sentience in the Weave, where it was enfolded in a dream by Mystra. The Lady of Mysteries did this to ensure that the two drow siblings would survive the cataclysm that she knew was coming—the Spellplague—in which she would be "killed" to renew the Weave and magic would go wild. After Mystra and the Weave were completely restored in 1487 DR, the goddess of magic could finally give Eilistraee her own lost power and do the same with Vhaeraun, after having awakened him from his dream."

It was one of Ed Greenwood's ideas to have the two deities reach a reciprocal understanding, and to make the personal enmity between them was no more. More to read here

So here's my take on this situation.

I think a lot of people like to paint the "Mystra and Eilistraee put Vhaeraun in Dream Prison" Situation in a very limited light. In the same way Eilistraee tends to get romanticized as a wholly good and Vhaeraun demonized as a firm evil, it tends to get boiled down to the idea that Mystra and Eilistraee managed to convince him to be "Less Evil."

But, I don't know. To accept the Mystra/Eilistraee tag team as something wholly good, you have to also accept the sentiment of Vhaeraun as someone who is evil and needed "fixed," and I don't think that's ever been the case. As I think my multitude of arguments have implied, I have never been under the impression he's an actual evil.

As such, it's always felt little bitter-sweet to me. I think it's more impactful if they just managed to rub off on eachother due to their time spent together as one. I think it was especially a turning point for Eilistraee, given how many changes came to the structure of her church as a result of that merger. She understands why he uses the tactics he does, she understands that what he's doing is coming from a place of (what I would argue) is sincere love for the drow as a whole, and I think she got a little bit more of a nuanced understanding of the uhh Sexism. I also like to think she understood his experiences more, and that his love doesn't come through the same lens as hers.

Likewise, I think Vhaeraun came out of that understanding that he was stretching himself thin. I think that he learned that he NEEDS to be able to rely on others, he NEEDS to start trusting the outside world more. While he's more accepting of drow as they are now, I think his goal has always been to put them back in power to the extent that they were when he had worship from the Ilythiiri. But, thats not the world they live in anymore. Even if he did pull all the drow from the underdark, they could not and would not manage to be that. I think he comes out of The Masked Lady era understanding that to get the drow away from his mother and to coexist is stability in itself. They don't need to rule to be powerful, they just need to coexist.

You know. It's choosing to forgive. We can't change what we were, but we can start this relationship over and grow something new from it. And sometimes, that might be enough.

....

And ALSO I think they had to start getting along, because it really didn't take their churches THAT long to start meshing together when they fused as the masked lady.

At the word “died,” the priestess glanced down at the male. The cleric didn’t look good; his eyes had fully rolled back in his head and his skin was turning gray. Halisstra reached out and lifted the priestess’s chin, forcing her to look away. “It’s only a weak venom,” she lied. “You have plenty of time to heal him. Plenty of time, still.” “Yes,” the priestess repeated softly. “Plenty of time.” Her eyes reminded Halisstra of another priestess who’d succumbed to Halisstra’s bae’qeshel magic, years ago. Seyll had stared just as trustingly into Halisstra’s eyes a heartbeat before Halisstra plunged a sword into her. And yet Seyll had told Halisstra, as she lay dying, that no one was beyond redemption—not even Halisstra. She’d been wrong. This priestess had a wide mouth and creases at the sides of her eyes that could only have come from frequent laughter. The frown of confusion looked out of place on her forehead. The slight bulge of her stomach hinted she might be carrying a child. Halisstra hated her.

Come on guys, The Masked Lady hadn't even existed for half a decade and there was already pregnancies. We don't know what their churches are like 100+ years out. But, for as much as Ed emphasizes the infighting of the churches (And I have no doubt in my heart there ARE factions who refuse to mesh, that's canon to the text) we are inevitably met with 1-2 generations where the combined churches are all that they knew. Vhaeraun and Eilistraee had to work together, because I think as much as they're their own people with thoughts and opinions and experiences, they are also a reflection of their worshipers.

==

I think, to summarize what I think Vhaeraun and Eilistraee's relationship is like in a few paragraphs

With the way their relationships are described, I think Eilistraee was the golden child and Vhaeraun was the scrapegoat in the earlier parts of their childhood. They become reflections of the parent that favors them, because those were the parents that acted as their main influence. Eilistraee saw Vhaeraun as a reflection of her mothers evil, and Vhaeraun saw Eilistraee as undeserving of the favoritism their father gave her.

This view of eachother was cemented when she followed him to Toril. She saw him and his power as an evil and bloodstain, unhelped when he exiled her (probably out of spite and due to the grudge he had as a result of the earlier years). As such, she worked to undermine the influence he had. And when that allowed their mother and Ghaunadaur to take hold, it was the same kind of evil to her.

Her enabling them to take that power worsened the grudge Vhaeraun had of her, because he knows he isn't the same kind of evil as Lolth or Ghaunadaur, and them having that power worsened things for everyone.

This grudge between them kept itself in the legacy of their churches, all the way until The Masked Lady Era. The Masked Lady era was one where they actually managed to come together for a similar goal. It was the first time they were truly about to understand eachothers motivations, experiences, and perspectives, and the first time that divide between them and their communities truly lessened.

And when they finally came out...? I mean. That's going to change anyone. I think not only their relationship changed, but they sort of managed to change eachother a little.

I don't know. I think their relationship is complicated and messy and such a product of their parents influence on them. There is no forgiving Lolth, and there really shouldn't be forgiving Corellon (though, dnd might disagree with me on that.) But I think theirs one that could eventually heal. Out of all of the relationships in the Dark Seladrine, theirs feels the closest to being one that can be refounded on equal ground and with respect towards one another, especially as drow return to the surface and find more acceptance (even outside of their communities.) Because they are to me, two sides of the same coin.

[pankesitopank]

AAAAAAAAAAA OMG AAAAAH AAAAA MMMHHMMM WOOF WOOF GRRRR GRROOF RRWOOF

omg just thinking about riding him like that aaaahhh

like I have this idea where reader (who I may or may not have imagined as her... but that's very virgin so I'll just leave it as reader) is riding him in that same pose and he does NOTHING just watches her while she falls apart on top of him. Then he's the one who takes control and AAAAHH.

STAY WITH ME I HAVE A MINI SCENARIO

It was that pose. The one he knew made you crumble.

Hyunjin laid back against the couch, arms resting behind his head, his shirt stretching deliciously across his chest. His legs were spread like he was inviting you in—but his expression? That was the real trap. Heavy-lidded, smug, lips parted in just the faintest smirk. He looked at you like he already knew how this would end.

And maybe he did.

You were supposed to be proving a point. Something about not always needing him to take the lead. Something about how well you could ride him without begging for help. But the second your knees settled on either side of his hips, and your hands found purchase against his chest, you felt that confidence flicker under the weight of his stare.

“You sure you wanna try this?” he asked, voice a low hum, almost bored. “You remember what happened last time?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks already warm.

“I can handle it.”

Hyunjin didn’t argue. He just arched a brow, the gold of his necklace catching the light as his head tilted slightly. “Alright then,” he murmured. “Go ahead, baby.”

And fuck if that didn’t already do something to you.

Your fingers trembled just a little as you reached between you, lining him up—hard and hot, his length already pressing against your folds from just a few soft grinds during your makeout session. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet. That was the worst part.

The teasing was all you.

You sank down slowly, inch by inch, your breath catching as his cock stretched you open. That familiar burn, the delicious fullness—it made you pause, hips trembling as you adjusted. He was big. Every time felt like the first. And from the slight twitch in his smirk, he knew it.

“Still doing okay?” he asked, voice smug and lazy.

You bit your lip, trying to focus. “Fine.”

You weren’t fine.

You were already clenching, already too aware of how he filled you up, how deep he was when you were on top. But you started to move—hips rolling slowly, experimentally, finding a rhythm.

And god, it felt good.

The friction, the angle, the way his cock hit just right inside you. You set your pace, slow and deep, hands pressing against his firm chest for leverage. Your thighs ached just a little, but you pushed through, trying to stay in control. You had to. That was the point.

Hyunjin didn’t help you. Not once.

His arms stayed behind his head, that stupid gold watch catching your eye as he laid there like a fucking painting, letting you do the work. Letting you work for it.

He just watched.

Watched the way your breath got heavier, the way your legs started to tremble, the way your movements got a little more desperate. You tried to stay composed—keep a rhythm—but the tension was building fast.

And Hyunjin was silent.

No moans, no groans. Just that same smug look on his face. That calm, unreadable gaze that made you want to snap.

“Why aren’t you—” you panted, lifting and dropping onto him again, “—doing anything?”

He just blinked slowly. “You said you wanted to ride me, remember?” A pause. “You were so confident. So cocky. Wanted to prove a point.”

You hated how turned on his voice made you. It was too casual. Too calm. And you were already shaking.

“I—fuck—” you gasped, grinding down against him with more force, chasing the friction you needed. “I can. I don’t—nngh—need you to—”

“Oh?” he said, tilting his head. “Because you’re getting real sloppy, baby. Haven’t even made yourself cum yet.”

You whimpered.

It was true. The angle was almost there, your clit barely brushing against his pelvis, but it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t get enough speed, enough force, not without help. Your legs were already burning.

Still, you didn’t want to give in. Not yet.

You braced your palms harder against his chest and moved faster—bouncing on his cock with shallow, needy motions, chasing something that was just out of reach. His cock dragged perfectly inside you, but you were losing rhythm, falling apart.

And all the while, Hyunjin just watched you.

“God, look at you,” he said softly. “So pretty when you try.”

His voice made your stomach flip. You were whining now, desperate little sounds falling from your lips every time your hips met his. You were so close, but it wasn’t enough.

You needed help. You needed him.

And the second your pace faltered again, the second you let out that frustrated little whimper, Hyunjin moved.

His hands came down from behind his head, strong fingers wrapping around your waist. He didn’t flip you. He didn’t sit up. He just gripped you tight and started thrusting up.

Hard.

“Ah—Hyun—fuck!”

You collapsed forward instantly, hands fisting in his shirt as he rutted up into you, hips snapping with a rhythm that stole the breath from your lungs. Every thrust hit deep, his cock slamming into your sweet spot like he’d been waiting for you to fail.

“Wanted me to let you ride me, huh?” he grunted, voice right against your ear now. “Wanted to show me how good you are?”

You couldn’t speak. You could barely breathe.

His grip was tight, his rhythm brutal. You could feel his abs flex beneath your stomach, his thighs tensing with every upward drive. The couch squeaked under the pressure, the sound of skin against skin filthy in the air.

“Not so cocky now, are you?”

You cried out—his cock hitting so deep it felt like you were about to fall apart. Your body went boneless on top of him, your chest pressing against his as you moaned shamelessly.

“Say it,” Hyunjin growled. “Tell me who’s in control.”

You shook your head, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes.

He slammed into you.

“Say it.”

You gasped. “You! You’re in control—fuck, Hyunjin, I can’t—”

He grinned, breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought.”

One hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. It was too much. His cock ramming into you from below, his fingers on your clit, his voice in your ear—

You came hard, body convulsing on top of him as your orgasm ripped through you.

But he didn’t stop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, still thrusting up into you. “Now let me finish.”

You were sobbing now, overwhelmed, your walls fluttering around him as he fucked you through your high. You were limp against him, totally at his mercy, thighs quivering as he chased his release.

And then—deep, low, a growl against your throat—

“Gonna cum inside you.”

You moaned so loud it echoed.

“Gonna make sure you remember who really owns this pussy, baby.”

And with one last, brutal thrust—he came.

You felt it. Hot and thick, spilling deep inside you as he groaned into your skin, holding you tight against his chest. Your body pulsed with aftershocks, your breath ragged, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

The room was silent.

Only the sound of your breathing. Of Hyunjin’s heart pounding beneath your cheek.

You didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

He kissed your temple, still inside you, still warm and hard.

“Next time,” he whispered, “just ask.”

You let out a breathless laugh, cheeks burning.

Maybe you’d let him win this one.

[waytooinvested]

Vengeance, Victory and Undying Love - pt 1

A Supercorp fic in which Lena still creates Non Nocere to deal with her broken heart after finding out Supergirl's identity, but this time she gives the name to a different project. A more personal one. And now she’s coming for Supergirl.

Posting chapters here and on Ao3

Kara stirred groggily. She ached all over, and there was a sharp pain in her left temple that told her she’d taken a hard knock to the head at some point. She felt utterly drained in a way that only happened when she’d burned out her powers to the last drop.

That was bad enough, but something else was off too. Normally when she woke up like this it was under the soothing glow of yellow sun lamps, or else if she was unlucky, buried in the rubble of whatever disaster had taken her down. She was pretty sure neither of those was true now, which meant someone had found her while she was unconscious and brought her… somewhere.

She was lying on a bed that didn’t belong to her, in a room that felt too big and empty to be someone’s bedroom – a fact she could feel even with her eyes still firmly closed, though she couldn’t have said how she knew. The bed was a good sign at least (better by far than waking to find herself shackled in a cage, which was always a possibility in her line of work), but she still should have felt afraid at being so vulnerable in an unknown location, and she didn’t.

That might have had something to do with the hand holding hers, cupping it very lightly to avoid the torn skin on her palm, a thumb stroking over the back of her fingers again and again, grounding her in her body and silently reassuring her that she was safe, and loved, and everything would be alright.

No, not quite silently. The words were barely a whisper, almost below the range of her dulled power-depleted non-super hearing but still just audible above the low background hum of machinery.

‘Kara wake up. Please wake up Kara. Please’.

The voice sounded raw and desperate, and so, so familiar.

She almost knew who it was, the name pressing at the tip of her tongue, and then time seemed to stutter and she realised she must have wandered off into a dream.

The light against her closed eyelids was different now, and when she tried to squeeze the hand holding hers to let them know she was alright, she found her fingers grasping nothing but empty air and her own grazed palm.

‘Nngh’.

‘Ah, Supergirl. You’re awake’.

It was the same voice she had dreamt of before, but not. It sounded more composed this time, and a lot colder.

At last Kara managed to force her eyelids apart. It seemed to take more effort to lift them than it normally would have to lift a bus. When had eyelids gotten so heavy? They had no business being heavier than a bus. She would have to write an article about it. The people needed to know.

It was possible that she was a little concussed.

Fingers clicked in front of her face.

Long, elegant fingers with dark painted nails.

Nice fingers. But noisy. The snapping made her already achy head pound.

‘Supergirl, focus. Can you move?’

Kara tried her best to do as she was asked and focus through the fug of pain and receding sleep. The fingers – and the voice – belonged to Lena.

Yay, Lena was here!

She smiled dopily up at her friend and would have reached for her hand if her stupid arm would obey her.

But then… wait…

Lena was here?

Lena was here and her voice was colder than it was supposed to be, and she knew.

She knew.

She knew.

Reality rushed through Kara like a flood of ice water through her veins, clearing some of the sleepy confusion from her mind as it went. She had forgotten for a moment, what with the concussion and all.

Lena had found out her secret in the worst possible way.

Lena hated her now.

‘Le… Lena…’

Her voice cracked on the word, and Lena huffed a sigh and picked up a cup of water from the beside, holding it to Kara’s mouth and allowing her to take a few good swallows before she took it away again.

‘Better?’

‘Yes, thank you. Lena, what hap-’

‘We don’t have time for that now. I need you to tell me, quickly. Can you move?’

She tried, and found she could wriggle a little, but her limbs were even heavier than her eyelids, and there was no way she could stir them enough to sit up.

‘Not really. Are we in danger here? You should go if we are, I’ll be fine in a minute. You don’t have to stay for me’.

Lena made a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh, but it didn’t sound like Lena’s laugh. It was bitter and harsh, and it made Kara’s heart ache even worse than her head.

‘How noble. But no, I’m not in any danger here. This is my lab after all. No, I just needed to know if you could move so I knew whether or not I needed to restrain you’.

‘Restrain me, why would you need to-’

Lena held a syringe filled with green liquid up to the light.

‘What are you doing? What is that?’

‘Just lie still, this will only take a moment’.

She swabbed Kara’s arm with an alcohol soaked cotton ball and tsked slightly when it came away bloody, repeating the process until she had a clean patch of skin.

‘There, that’s better’.

Kara tried to wriggle away, but she was so weak that all Lena had to do was place a firm hand on her arm to hold it in place, and she was helpless.

‘Oh don't look so worried. I keep telling you, I might be a Luthor but I’m not the villain you seem to think I am. It’s not kryptonite’.

Lena leaned down to push the needle into Kara’s arm, her loose hair falling forward to brush lightly over Kara’s skin as she did so, making her breath stutter in her chest. It wasn’t fair that the physical proximity of Lena could have this kind of effect on her, even now. She gave a weak cough, trying to cover her reaction, and attempted again to jerk free from the restraining hand. It was no good. She allowed herself to flop back onto the mattress and focus on what she could see of Lena’s face behind its shielding curtain of hair instead, searching for eye contact that Lena seemed to be studiously avoiding.

There was a sharp crease between her former friend’s brows, her jaw set into a line so hard that could have cut diamond. She was all angles and straight lines without a hint of her old softness, but even like this she didn’t look cruel. She was a million miles from looking anything like a true villain, and Kara wanted to tell her so, but the syringe was looming closer and she had more pressing things to say.

‘If it’s not kryptonite then what is it?’

Lena waited until the needle was in place, pushing it easily through Kara’s skin now that she had no powers to keep it out. Only once the plunger was fully depressed and the green liquid had disappeared into her arm did she deign to respond.

‘Non Nocere’.

‘I don’t know what that means’.

‘You weren’t supposed to. It’s just a little something I’ve been working on since Lex told me who you really were, that’s all. Something to make sure I never have to worry about Supergirl again’.

The site of the inject felt hot and tingly, and Kara could feel, or imagined she could feel, whatever it was working its way into her blood stream. She felt sweat break out on her brow, and her heart pounded erratically.

‘Lena, please just tell me! What did you do to me?’

‘It hurts when someone keeps important information from you doesn't it?’.

She pressed a clean cotton wad over the tiny puncture wound and stuck it down with surgical tape, then stepped back to drop the empty syringe into a sharps bin beside the bed, as matter of factly as if it had been nothing more than a tetanus shot.

‘I really am sorry I didn’t tell you who I was sooner, I hate that you had to find out the way you did-’

‘Don’t. You can stay until you're strong enough to walk out of here, and then I want you gone. Do you understand?’

Lena didn’t wait for her response, and much as she didn’t want to, Kara had little choice but to do as she was told and rest where she was until she had the strength to do something else. She still felt too battered and exhausted to sit up, let alone get herself home.

She lay still for what seemed like hours, drifting somewhere halfway between sleep and waking, trying to piece together what had happened before she’d found herself here.

There had been a fight. A big one, that had ended with her clinging to a giant stolen missile on its way to wipe out half the city. She had managed to divert it, but it had taken every last drop of strength she’d had, and disposing of it had taken her beyond the limits she could safely travel into the upper atmosphere.

Then what happened? Had there been kryptonite involved, or simple over exertion? The bomb had exploded, she knew that much, and she had fallen. Managed to dredge up the last dregs of her power just enough to slow her descent, but not enough to actually fly herself to safety. She had probably hit the ground hard enough to leave a crater.

After that there had been nothing until the ghost of a hand in hers, and a voice she couldn’t really have heard begging her to wake up.

But that part had been a dream. A former version of her best friend that she wished so desperately was still real that she had made herself feel it, when in reality Lena would never touch her with tenderness again…

The thought hurt too much to bear among all her other hurts, so she wrenched herself free from it and tried to focus on practicalities.

What had happened after she passed out? Why was she in Lena’s lab rather than at the DEO? Where was Alex? Were her friends safe? Was the fight over?

What had Lena put in her arm?

She groaned in frustration and tried again to get up.

It was actually a little easier this time, and she succeeded in getting her body more or less upright against the pillows she now discovered were piled up behind her.

An unexpectedly thoughtful touch for someone who hated her. Then again, this bed probably hadn’t been made up specially for her. Of course Lena would want other people to be comfortable. She was a good person...

Kara’s fingers found the sore spot on her arm almost without her conscious direction.

… Wasn’t she?

She had no time to dwell on it now. The brisk clip of heels on tile announced Lena’s return, as if she had just been waiting for Kara to sit up (had she been waiting? Was there a camera somewhere watching Kara’s every move? Probably. L Corp was bound to have security cameras all over the place, and Lena wasn’t one to leave important things to chance).

‘You should be strong enough to stand in a few more minutes. I’ve brought you something to change into as soon as you are – you can’t go out dressed like that, you’ll be a target for every criminal within a ten mile radius in that ridiculous suit, and you don’t have your powers. Once you’ve put these on I’ll have my driver take you home’.

‘Thank you’.

‘Don’t thank me. Just because I didn’t leave you to die in a hole doesn’t make us friends. Make no mistake Supergirl, I don’t ever intend to have to do this again’.

‘Lena, can’t we just talk? I hate this’.

Lena ignored her, talking over her as if she hadn’t said anything.

‘Press the button beside your bed when you’re dressed. Someone will be in to escort you to the car and drive you home. Director Danvers will be expecting you there within the hour, so I would prefer it if you didn’t linger here longer than necessary. Goodbye, Supergirl’.

It wasn’t lost on her that Lena had been calling her Supergirl since the moment she’d woken up. It was as if she no longer believed the parts of her she had known as Kara were real. As if every moment they had spent together – every unspoken thing that had been building between them before that awful, shattering moment – had been a lie.

A tear dripped down Kara’s cheek as another wave of loss hit her.

She wanted to reach out to Lena again, but she didn’t, and if Lena noticed the tears she paid no attention to them.

Left alone in a near empty lab, Kara couldn’t think what to do but to follow Lena’s instructions, so when she was sure she could stand without collapsing she pulled on the soft grey L Corp branded t shirt and sweat pants Lena had left for her, and pressed the call button that would take her away from here.

Lena might well have saved her life tonight, and yet she felt more impossibly distant from Kara than ever before. After everything they had been through – the years of friendship, the closeness, the bond that was not quite like any Kara had ever known before.

It was really over.

[blackjackkent]

"Well, I'll be ploughed sideways. We got a welcoming party."

Is it weird for me to say I kind of like this guy? :P

There are several other duergar waiting at the dock as the boat comes to a halt. One of them rolls her eyes at Hector's companion - who has identified himself as Corsair Greymon - and spits on the ground at the edge of the water.

"You shithead. Time you showed up. We got trouble."

"Spit it out. Sergeant finally choked on True Soul Nere's prick?"

"Drugh no. The Twat-Soul caused a rockfall. Trapped tighter than a ring on a fat finger."

"You're shitting me. He pay up?"

"That's the trouble - he's got the gold on him. Sergeant's arm is falling off with all the gnome slaves she's been beating." She shoots a look up at Hector warily. "Who's the hoon, Greymon? Another slave for the dig?"

Hector has been trying this whole time not to panic. He tried to invoke the name of the Absolute before in the hopes that it would let them just sail on out of the way and not get involved with these people, but it has backfired and had the opposite effect. He hates lying and doesn't want to stand here pretending he's a True Soul - and in fact, these people don't seem to be of that ilk, but instead fighters co-opted by their sergeant into working for one. And they seem a bit disdainful of their current True Soul, in fact, and don't seem to be mourning the fact that he's apparently buried under a pile of rubble at present.

This actually implies they could even be allies against the Absolute if the cards fell out right...but he's not making any assumptions right now.

"I was told to report to the sergeant," he says carefully, sticking to the truth and nothing but, for now.

"Aye," Greymon puts in. "One of those Absolute crackpots. Found the hoon sailing Gekh's skiff."

"That so?" the woman sneers. "I-- nngh."

The pain again - but milder this time. Hector flinches, but doesn't buckle under it as he does when encountering another tadpole.

Narrator: You feel the slightest of stirrings in your head. The duergar is not infected, yet your minds resonate.

"I'll be - you ain't shittin'. Felt the tingle." Her eyes narrow. This is not an improvement of Hector in her estimation, just a change. "Your Twat-Soul chum owes us a load of coin. You want through? Make a donation."

Silence. Hector hears Gale shift behind him, readying for a potential battle, but he puts out a hand, shakes his head. They have amassed plenty of coin, and he sets no store by it - and it seems like there might be something to be said for sowing some goodwill here.

"Fine. Take it," he says, voice deliberately soft, and reaches slowly into his purse and pulls out ten platinum, tossing them onto the floor at the dwarf's feet.

The woman's head snaps back, and then she laughs. "I'll be shagged to Shanatar. Shit's lookin' up!" She leans down to scoop up the coin, pockets it, and looks at him with blithe dislike - something of an improvement from the active malice of a few moments prior. "But I"m warning you - that Twat-Soul ain't settle up soon, there'll be hell to pay for the lot of you cult-buggers."

---

As the dwarf turns and walks away, Gale sidles up at Hector's side and mutters, "Well, this is quite a pickle we've turned up in, eh, oh fearless leader of our merry band of lost souls?"

Hector grunts and looks somewhat embarrassed. "I panicked," he says in an undertone. "I thought if I mentioned the Absolute, they'd just leave us alone."

"Hey," Karlach points out matter-of-factly. "We're alive, ent we? Can't do better than that." She grins, makes a gesture as if to nudge him in the arm but stops before making contact with his skin. " 'Sides, maybe there's something useful we can learn here."

"Perhaps," he says. "Before we do anything else, we need to find somewhere we can make camp around here. We were lucky not to have to fight them on the boat..." He pauses, then looks at Shadowheart. "I was right, wasn't I? Coming in, those statues...this is..."

"It was a Shar temple once. Yes," she says, looking back at him steadily as if daring him to say anything about it. "Defiled, just as yours was above us. Is this the sort of shared experience you wished us to bond over?"

He hesitates. Once, he wouldn't have spared a moment's thought over the collapse of a temple of the dark goddess. But Shadowheart is more to him than her faith now. And he knows how much it hurts to see what she is seeing. "I'm sorry," he says quietly.

She pauses, then shakes her head. "Let's...finish our business and move on," she mutters brusquely. "I don't want to join all the corpses in this place."

[shad0wsofcha0s]

"Take a breath, focus."

Teeth grit, shadows roll like mist, claws dig into palms and horns twist like gnarled branches. He'd been on a true downward spiral when he was finally spoken too, turning and just...glaring for a moment.

"and what th'fuck is that gonna do?! How is that gonna...nngh..." It hurts. It hurts and he hates it.

"...fine. I'll...I'll try."

[hanazuma-inactive]

ifhy. (nsfw) dabi x bottom!male reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: hate sex, a lot of cursing, a little bit of degrading, fucking on a counter (?) idk if that counts, and implied violence a little

a/n: sorry this took a while to write i was passed out for the past two days 😀👍

_____

ever since you entered the league of villains you've hated everything about the man. the cockiness, the way he talked, even the way he smiled, though he barely did. you wanted to prove you were better than him. due to the fact that he had a flashier quirk than you, he received more attention from tomura than you did.

everything about dabi pissed you off.

you weren't very subtle about it either, you made sure that dabi knew you didn't like him. In fact everyone in the league knew you hated his guts and they didn't want to get in the way of you two either, just so they don't get hit by the crossfire.

you challenged him one time during another one of shigaraki's meetings because he was taunting your abilities in the mission tomura assigned you to. the fight was pretty bad and thankfully kurogiri was there to stop you guys or else the hideout would've been burned to crisps in the matter of seconds.

believe it or not, there was actually one thing you hated more than dabi. it was how much you wanted to fuck the man. everytime you were with dabi, you were practically undressing him with your eyes. his tall and lean body, those ocean eyes you could melt in and the fact that you could see his pecs slightly due to his clothing.

you didn't want to admit it but you couldn't deny your own desires. not saying you would volunteeringly ask him to fuck you but if the oppurtunity came up you wouldn't say no either. there were times you touched yourself thinking about the black haired male deep inside you stuffing you full of his cum. he turned you on so much and you couldn't deny it.

it was another day were shigaraki excluded you from a mission. you didn't mind too much this time since you didn't want to go anyways. shigaraki and your ideals weren't similar but he recognized your strength and you recognized his authority.

you were resting at the bar table in the hideout and fixing yourself a drink. you knew kurogiri had to have some good booze hidden here somewhere. while ruffling under the counters you heard slow footsteps coming down the stairs. the person you wanted to see the least appeared in front of you.

"what are you doing back here, aren't you supposed to be with them?" you said in a cold tone.

"they don't need me anymore, they've got it handled. shigaraki's plan also failed once."

"wouldn't be surprised."

"fuck is that suppose to mean."

"i said what i said , burnt face."

you felt the atmosphere in the room tense up and so did dabi. you both stayed silent for a few seconds until he spoke again.

"real rich coming from someone who's been eye-fucking me ever since we entered the league together."

you were startled by his response. did you make it that obvious? you stopped looking for the alcohol and stood up.

"so what if i did, huh? i still fucking hate you, i don't know who in the right mine would want your cocky ass here but i guess some people just don't see how much of a piece shit you can be."

you could feel it in your bones a fight was about to go down. dabi wasn't the type to stay silent after you insult him. well, if he does try something you were ready to face him. backing off from something like this wasn't your style.

dabi walked closer to you and put his hand on the counter.

"i always thought you had a pretty face, what a shame it came with a shit personality." dabi said while cupping your cheek with his hand.

his touch felt so right against your skin. the male's hands weren't cold but it wasn't exactly warm either. you didn't know why it felt good but you didn't care either.

"don't fucking touch me, bastard." you said while slapping away dabi's hand.

you wanted dabi to touch you but you didn't want to admit it infront of him. in fact, he was getting too close to you for comfort and the tense atmosphere with just the two of you, him pushing you against the wall. even a nomu would know what he's trying to do.

“oh please, we all know you want it you fucking slut... you want me to fuck your brains out right on this counter, don’t lie to yourself.”

“don’t be so full of yourself, who do you think you are? just because i like your body doesn’t mean i like you.”

dabi turned around and started to walk away realizing you were being serious about this.

“then again, i'm not saying no. so if you want to prove me wrong, come and show me.” you said

dabi understood what you meant, he turned around and grabbed you by the waist pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

you've never felt your heart beat so fast in your life before. you hands on his shoulders pulling him closer towards you. both of you struggled to take control of the kiss but dabi ended up winning this time.

after a few minutes the kiss broke and you wiped your mouth with your left arm.

"is that all you got bitch boy? c'mon there's no way you're this weak right?" you taunted

"you haven't seen nothing yet, you fucking squirt."

dabi said as he unbuckled his belt. you could see the thick outline of his cock under his boxers. it was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined all those times by yourself. dabi soon took off his boxers to show you the real deal. his cock was still half erect but it already looked too big to fit into your hole.

“you like it?” dabi asked with a smirk on his face

“tch, i’ve seen better.”

“oh? is that so.”

right after he said that, dabi grabbed your head and shoved it onto his dick, making you take his cock by all its length right away. you attempted to push yourself away but dabi’s hands were on your head the whole time. Soon enough you submitted to dabi and adjusted to his rhythm. after a while dabi finally let go of your head and pulled out his cock, this time fully erect. you couldn’t tell the exact size but it was practically double the size of what it was initially. during this entire time, you had an erection in your pants too. you were begging for a release preferably through dabi’s cock.

“c’mon sweet heart, we all know what you want. now show me that fucking ass and get on the counter.”

you stayed silent for a bit thinking whether or not to pass up this opportunity or take it. the decision was still in your hands because although dabi might be a villain he would never do something like this if he didn’t get their consent first. after considering, you realized this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity and agreed. you slid the bottom half of your clothing off and sat on the counter. you didn’t expect dabi for the type to ever get flustered but he did. when his eyes locked onto your ass and thighs his eyes widened just like when you saw his cock.

“bet you never had something like this huh~” you teased.

and just like your response earlier, dabi scoffed and said

“i’ve seen better.”

you were both impatient for what’s about to happen next. one person to be stuffed and the other to do the stuffing. dabi’s precum was the most lubricant he was ever going to use on you so without prepping he pushed his cock inside you. right away you felt a bit of pain under there but it quickly turned into pleasure after dabi moved around the area a bit more.

“f-fuck bitch… you’re tight huh…”

“nngh... tch, i told you AH-.”

“this is the good spot isn’t it~” dabi said as he pushed his dick further into you.

you moaned in pleasure as a response with grunts in between. you were feeling euphoric, this was the situation you’ve imagined so many times and now it’s finally coming true. you looked down at your own dick to see the tip of it leaking pre-cum. you couldn’t deny how good you felt at this point even if you wanted to.

“fucking hell… you fuck pretty good for some a-ah! who talks like a bitch.” you managed to make out.

“don’t talk with you ass full, slut.” dabi said as he yet again thrusted into you this time with even more force.

“and you wanted to deny it, look how good im making you feel. you’re gonna cum just from me fucking you in the ass.”

“you’re one to talk, i can feel all of your pre inside. i know you’re feeling just as good as i am don’t lie to me.”

you two gave each other a smirk as if this was some kind of competition of who can make the other person feel better. well it is, but in an aggressive way.

as both of you were getting close the moans and grunts started to become more frequent.

"hgh! im fucking cumming." dabi grunted out

"a-ah fuck! me too." you replied

the two of you came at the same time. pants filled the room with dabi still inside you.

"heh… not bad y/n."

"that's the first time you said my name, dabi."

"the same goes for you."

"i still fucking hate you by the way."

"the same goes for you."

[jackrrabbit]

Bloodlust /// Sanemi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: A naive demon is waylaid by the Wind Hashira.

A/N: Might fuck around and get back into KNY…Sanemi is one mean bastard, and I’m here for it. Be warned—this is pretty brutal (not by canon standards, but still). ngl I’ve missed writing stuff like this 🥺

Tags/warnings: sadomasochism, noncon, hatefucking!!!! is def the best way to describe what happens in this fic, threats, violence, demon reader & demon things, primal, degradation, outdoor sex, bloodplay & marechi kink stuff, yandere? obsessive fixation ig, some creative liberties have been taken with canon

You’d almost forgotten what it feels like to be weak.

Strength came with the territory when you were turned into a demon, along with the hunger: all-encompassing, oppressive, like you’re starving every second you’re not eating. Apparently you’re better able to control your hunger than other demons, not that you’ve met many—none, actually, other than the one who turned you. He was the one who told you to exercise control, who told you that you’ve done well to stealthily pick off prey that wouldn’t be missed instead of attracting attention. He was the one who told you about demon slayers.

You almost laughed at the idea at the time. A group of humans who tried to resist demons? Tried to kill them? How? Every human you’ve encountered since you were turned—hunters, mostly, men who’d wandered into the woods looking for something to eat—has been pathetically weak against you. Life as a demon is simple. As long as you stay in the shadows and avoid the sun, you have nothing to fear.

Sometimes you daydream about making your way to a village and gorging yourself, but you don’t mind the hunger so much. You can get by on scraps. And besides, the demon who turned you warned you not to go overboard. He said to stay away from the humans’ notice—not that the threat of some human calling themselves a “demon slayer” bothered you. You know how strong you are; you can feel it in your blood, your muscles, your bones. You don’t understand how a flesh-and-blood human could threaten that.

You don’t understand…until you meet him. The Wind Hashira. You should’ve listened to the warnings about demon slayers.

Bitter.

It tastes bitter, and you try to ground yourself on that taste, the sharp, bitter-wet flavor of the grass and dew and earth because the slayer is shoving your face into the dirt and the copper from where you’re biting into your lip and holding back the sound of your voice. Not that he cares, probably. But you don’t think you could take hearing yourself moan for a human while he carves the shape of his cock into your pussy.

How did you…get here? Facedown, barely holding yourself up on your elbows, chest and stomach shoved into the grass with your back arched up and your kimono ridden above your hips… Fuck, you can barely remember the fight, his ability, him wrestling you into the earth and shoving his weight down on you and bringing his blade to his own arm and—

—his blood, so rich and thick and sweet that even recalling the smell of it sends a wave of heat through you and you whine under your breath. The hunger overtakes everything else you’re feeling, but only for a second before with a twitch of his hand the Hashira brings the edge of his sword to the tender skin of your throat. “Ah-ah,” he rasps out a laugh even though his voice is heavy and strained. “What was that? Are you starting to like it?”

“K-Kill you, I’ll—kill you,” you snarl, but you and him both know the threat is empty. You tried. And you failed.

“Fucking demon whore,” he spits, and the blade slips just enough to draw a hair-thin line of red across your neck, earning a yelp from you even though you don’t dare move any more for fear of letting it cut you deeper. When you go still, he grunts and you can hear him shifting position in the grass, angling your hips up so his cock can sink in again. “Asking for it…fuck…”

“I wasn’t—nngh—ah, ahhh, s-stop—you can’t—” Your words are coming out in babbles, barely intelligible but it’s his fault. He’s pushing up at your womb, pulling out in short, quick thrusts and slamming his cock back into your cunt so hard and rough it’s like he’s knocking the breath out of your lungs. It hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurts, an ache deep in your core and accompanied with a heat and tension that you hate even more than you hate the pain, because it means he’s right. You—no, your body, your traitorous pathetic weak body that submitted to his so easily—it’s starting to like this.

“How’s it feel?” He’s mocking you, fisting his fingers in your hair and wrenching your head back so he can look you in the eye. “Does it hurt?…it hurts, right? Good.”

“—i-it doesn’t—“ You don’t even believe it yourself.

“Yes…it does. Guess even a demon bitch like you can’t take me that easily.” Somehow the slayer’s hips keep pumping deeper, pushing his fat cock through your walls and against the entrance to your womb until you’re certain your unnatural healing can’t keep up with the bruising in your cunt. Your fingers are scrabbling in the grass, digging clawed nails into the earth—the little nick on your throat has already knitted itself back up, but the tension in your pussy is a dozen—a hundred—times worse.

“—stop, let me go—“ Debased. Lower than an animal. You’d be begging if you thought he would listen.

“‘Stop’? How are you going to...ungh, make me stop? Want to try to fight me off again?” He pulls out (you hate the way your cunt feels when he does, hot and slick and empty) and his grip on the sword slackens, easing up enough to give you a scanty inch of movement. “Go ahead, give it a try.”

The slayer’s taunting you—just like you taunted him at the start of this, when you first challenged him, when you thought he was a human—and, and somehow he is, still human and yet just as much a monster as you are. More. You’ve been cruel, you’ve done evil things, but you did them to survive. Fuck, you shouldn’t—shouldn’t have taunted him, shouldn’t have boasted, should’ve stayed hidden in the dark. You didn’t know. He wasn’t supposed to be this strong.

Your muscles are shaking from exertion as you brace your hands against the ground, trying to push up against the weight of his body so you can right yourself, but it’s futile. Within a second (less than a second) of your attempt to move, one of his scarred hands slaps over your wrist and crushes it back into the dirt, grip so tight you swear you can almost feel your bones grinding underneath. You snarl, try to twist yourself away from him but the hilt of his sword slams down flat against your other hand so hard you feel a dull pang of surprise that nothing actually breaks.

“So weak…try that again and I’ll use the sharp end.” His chest is moving back on top of yours, and you recognize the silent rhythm of the movement.

He’s laughing at you.

Weak. You know it’s true. You thought you were so strong, but compared to this Hashira you’re nothing. Pure unadulterated defeat is written in every cell of your body, and whatever animal instinct you have left from your human life is telling you to roll over and accept that he’s the predator, and you’re nothing more than prey. But the mockery, the ease with which he holds you down, the goddamn fucking laughter sparks a fresh wave of hatred and you thrash and squirm underneath his body. “You’re dead, you—I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you apart, they’ll be picking bits of you out of this forest for weeks—“

The red haze over your vision is so heavy that you barely notice the blade tilting into position—not over your skin, but against his. You only register what he’s doing when the glint of sunlight on the blade reflects brilliant white, and you catch a scarlet line of blood beading against it. You pull back, eyes going wide, trying not to inhale but your lungs betray you and,

oh ohhh fuck it smells good smells so good you want it you want it so fucking bad you’re going to die if you can’t taste it you need it you need it you NEED IT.

Your muscles go slack. You’re salivating already, dizzy from hunger, so intensely focused on the smell of his blood that you can’t help your compliance as he pulls your hips up into place and slips his cock back into your pussy. Only when it starts to hurt again—a dull soreness now, because he’s slowed his pace to push his thick shaft into you inch by inch—do you feel that same prickle of hatred and disgust, but who cares who cares that you’re getting fucked because the smell of his blood is driving you out of your mind with need.

You no longer have the self-control to hold back your voice, and when the slayer hears the pathetic little mewl dripping out of your mouth from the sensation of him filling you up, he laughs again. But this time you don’t care, you just want him, want his body, his blood. Your jaw snaps open and shut on instinct and you whine, pleading, because you’re past the point of believing that you can beat him.

“You like that? Want to taste?” His voice is softer now, but the vein of mockery still runs clear through every syllable.

Your head jerks up and down desperately and then he draws his hips back and slaps his cock between your aching walls, pushing a huffed “uhhn!” out of your lips—but you don’t pull away. You can tolerate this, if it means getting to taste that blood dripping down his fingers, over the sword grip still held in his palm, just to be wasted on the grass. Out of your reach.

“So docile now…think I could get used to this,” the slayer sighs, adjusting the position of his thighs so he can thrust into you lazily and deeply. “F-Fuck, you’re—tight, you know that? All hot and sticky inside…”

“—let me have it, need it I need it, why—“ Your head is spinning, feels like you’re…what? The intoxication is hitting some note deep in the recesses of your memory, a past life you aren’t supposed to be able to recall. Bitter taste on your tongue, liquid pouring, fuzzy edges bordering your vision. Drunkenness.

“Little demon bitch,” he growls, tapping the blade lightly against your neck when you snap your teeth at him again. “Said you were going to kill me, yeah? But now you’re moaning like a whore…”

You try to muster a denial, but you can’t.

The slayer’s other hand twists underneath the two of you to press up on your lower belly, pushing into the place where his cock is nudging up against your womb. You keen at the pressure, the slow friction against that little patch in your cunt that makes you slicker every time his cockhead passes over it. “Feel how deep I am in your cunt…? I can—feel your pulse on my cock, fuck.”

You can feel it too, your heartbeat echoed in the twitches of your pussy around his skin, quick and fluttering from the drunken stupor his blood has forced you into. Every sense is heightened, and the weight of his hand pushing up on your belly just makes it worse…or better. You’re not sure.

He swallows, and with his body on top of yours you can feel his heavy breathing puffing out over the bared skin of your neck. “Can demons even cum? If you can get wet, then you can cum too, right? I bet I can…bet I can make you cum, you fucking whore. Wouldn’t that be nice…get you creaming on my cock, make you my little fuckpet…”

His hand slips down from your belly to rub roughly at your cunt, pushing into your skin to seek out the little button at the top—and the feeling of his hands on you like this, the sharp jolt of pleasure somehow sends a splinter of clarity through your delirium. “No,” you wail, hearing how wanton you sound and hating it. “I can’t I can’t, please, please don’t make me—“

“Quiet.” His thick forearm wraps around your neck, tightening against your windpipe and cutting off your voice. “Learn your place, demon—the only reason you’re alive is because you’re a nice wet hole for me to use. So when I tell you to cum—“

His pace picks up, hips knocking yours deeper, splitting you apart while he swirls his fingers around that sweet spot—and then the smell of copper gets thicker and he’s pushing his bloody hand against your mouth—

“—you cum.”

You’re not sure whether it’s your cunt or the taste of his blood smearing over your lips that does it, but as soon as he says the word you shatter like glass. The heat is brutal horrible delicious and so overwhelming you’re surprised you’re conscious through it—every hair is standing up on end and your body pulls tight like a bowstring, arching your backside into his hips so you can feel every inch of your cunt sucking around him.

It’s bliss—sickeningly sweet, burning like fire through you—without thinking, you eagerly lick the scarlet liquid off his hand and fuck somehow, somehow, it tastes even better than it smelled—feels like you could live off just the blood in your mouth but you want more, you’d die for it, you’d do anything, and your teeth are bared ready to puncture his skin deeper when—

Cold steel slides up under your jaw, almost nicking one of the veins pumping blood up to your hazy brain. “Keep—ahh, yesss…d-damn it—keep still,” the slayer rasps. “No teeth.”

He’s not finished.

Every muscle in your body aches for you to ignore him, but the knowledge of how easily he could separate your head from your body makes you obey, dragging your tongue over his still-bleeding cut instead of biting down. You can hear the noises of damp skin against skin issuing out from where your bodies meet, but you’re not sure whether it’s from you lapping at his fingers or his cock pressing in and out of your sopping-wet cunt. Probably both. Not that it matters.

The slayer’s head lowers—you know it by the angle of his cock inside your twitching pussy and the faint tickle of his hair brushing against the skin of your neck—and then you feel his teeth sinking into the side of your throat. They’re blunt, of course, as harmless as any human’s, but the primal dominance of the action sends a shudder through you.

“Not bad…looks like demons are good for something after all. I think I might just keep you,” the slayer laughs. His voice is too close—you want to flinch back, spit at him, bite—but you can’t. You’re helpless.

You’re weak.

[mandoalorian]

The Way of Betrayal [Din Djarin x Reader]

Summary: Din Djarin finally meets other Mandalorians, and he learns the truth about his creed. Confused and hurting, he begins to over think, and so it's your job to comfort the Mandalorian and promise him that you'll love him no matter who he is or where he comes from

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none really, a little bit of guilt and anxiety I suppose.

Authors note: I know I always write a smut based around the new episode but.. as a TCW/Rebels fan, chapter eleven hit hard. I had been theorising about Din being a Death Watch foundling on my twitter literally since season one came out and now that it's been confirmed… my feelings are all over the place. So I knocked up this fluff/angst. It's a little painful but let's preserve.

~ gif by firedragon04

When the leader of Clan Kryze, Bo Katan, removed her helmet, it came as a surprise to you. You couldn't even imagine how it made Din feel. His whole body tensed up, shock coursing through his veins.

Waves crashed against the hull of the ship, the cold air stinging your skin as you nursed the child in your arms. You covered him in your cloak slightly, protecting him from any further attacks. You hushed him gently, rocking him up and down as his big dark eyes blinked up at you. You gently stroked the light white hairs on his little green head and he gave you a tired smile. "You're okay, little one." you whispered out as he settled in your arms.

It wasn't just Bo Katan, but stood by her side were two other Mandalorians, both helmetless. You half expected Din to remove his helmet, despite you knowing that it was against the code of his creed. You were baffled, to say the least. You and your boyfriend were now stood before three Mandalorians, each one helmetless. Of course, there could be a chance that they weren't Mandalorian at all; and that their armour was stolen. It seemed as though Din shared the same thought process as you.

"Where did you get that Mandalorian armour?" he gritted out. "Nobody is allowed to remove their helmet."

"Oh, he's one of those." Said the girl with dark hair, bitterness dripping from her tongue.

Din didn't move an inch, his fingers cautiously gliding over the blaster in his holster. You didn't like her attitude, or the way she spoke to Din. You wanted to rip that smirk from her lips; but you knew that acting irrationally would only get you and your Mando in more trouble than necessary.

"One of what." Din's question came out as a more gruff statement, anger bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. He didn't have time for games.

Bo Katan hesitated for a moment, her amber eyes becoming glossy as traumatic memories swarmed over her. "Death Watch," she tried to remain composed but her explanation came out as a shaky exhale. "You were a foundling of the Death Watch. They're traditionalists, trying to rebuild the way of Mandalore so it remains the way it was intended to. They're a violent faction of Mandalorians. Your creed are responsible for the death of many Mandalorians, including my sister, Duchess Satine of Mandalore."

You knew of this. You had heard of this before. The prolonged silence was unbearable and you decided to speak up. Din was clearly struggling to process Bo Katan's words.

"We don't know what you're talking about," You sighed. "We have been tasked to bring this little one to the Jedi. We've come from far away places, just for some intel. Just to find you. Outer rim to inner rim. We need help."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Bo Katan frowned. Din remained silent and your grip tightened around the child as you took a step forward, breaking any distance between you and the red headed Mandalorian.

"Can you help us?" You asked finally, not wanting Bo Katan to expel any more information that could confuse or hurt Din. You knew he couldn't bear to hear the words that Bo Katan spoke, and to you, it didn't matter anyway.

You had heard of the Death Watch; but your father had always told you it was an ancient folk tale during the Clone Wars. He told you of clan leader Pre Vizsla and how he worked with Darth Maul to overthrow Duchess Satine. And now you were learning that it could all be true, and that your Mando could be part of it. You wondered how much Din knew about it.

Despite all of this, it was something you could see past. You knew Din better than anyone else in the whole world. You knew that he is not capable of Death Watch crimes. You could never judge him for his creed.

"We can help you. I know of… a Jedi…" Bo Katan folded her strong arms over her chest. "But you need to help us first. I'm looking for a certain Mandalorian weapon and I've received word that it's in the hands of an Ex-Imp. There's an Imperial transport leaving docking bay 94 at dawn and we plan on scavenging it for at least information on the weapon. Your help would be greatly appreciated."

Din loosened up, finally moving his gaze from the floor, back to Bo-Katan. For a moment and looked down at you, holding his garbling child in your arms. You and the child were his life, and he hated leaving you both. Since met you, he found himself caring more about you and the child, than he did himself. Mandalorian's are taught to be selfish, but you taught him compassion and love, something he valued a lot more. He was your protector. His mind returned back to Bo Katan's plot and he didn't like the sounds of it. He knew this would be a Mandalorian only mission, and that you wouldn't be able to join him.

The Razor Crest was in bits, and every native Din had already encountered had tried to kill him for his beskar, or kidnap you, or drown the child for shark food. There was no safe place you could stay. Sure, you were strong, but Din needed the confidence that he could protect you. He didn't want to leave your side.

"I'll consider it." Din replied and you knotted your eyebrows together in bewilderment. He wasn't sure if he could go through with the mission if it meant leaving you and the child behind. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to return the child to the Jedi; but he was quested to do so by his creed. The same creed he now learnt were Mandalorian terrorists during the Clone Wars.

"You know where to find us," Bo Katan smiled politely. "This is the way." she said before the three Mandalorians put their helmets back on and jetted off the ship and into the velvety night sky.

"What do you mean, consider it?" You asked Din, dropping a hand to your hip. "You've come this far. This could be your only chance to find the Jedi. You have to help them."

Din's knees felt weak, all this information was too much. The Mandalorian could handle a lot. He could survive a lot. But this was hard to take in. Your words were scrambled to him and with a wobble he fell backwards into a box of crates. You gently placed the child down and ran towards him, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, sitting him on an extended plank of wood. "Are you okay?" you asked, concern filling your eyes.

"Nngh, I don't know. I don't know if I can trust them." Din admitted, looking into the ocean. You slipped your hands into Din's and began to rub comforting circles through his gloved fingers.

"I've heard stories about Clan Kryze… and Duchess Satine. I've heard of the invasion of Mandalore, and all about Death Watch. They… they've done bad things to a lot of people." You felt Dins hand tense up at your words. "But that doesn't mean you're a bad person. I think it just means we can trust her."

Din looked at you. "They… they removed their helmets. All this time I've been telling you I can't but maybe I've been wrong."

"I don't care what they look like under their helmets. I don't care what you look like under yours. Because I fell in love with your heart, Din. And if you still don't want to remove your helmet, then I respect that."

"I feel so foolish." Din admitted and you shook your head. You sighed, leaning into him and curling up on his lap. The child clambered up his knees and shuffled in between you two for comfort. "Look cyar’ika, our little family." Din hummed with delight, running a gloved finger through your hair. "Promise me, no matter what, no matter who I am or where I come from, you won't leave me."

"I promise Din."

"Because I don't think I can live without you, sweet girl," Din croaked out, his heart breaking at the mere thought of losing you. "I wish I could take my helmet off for you and the kid. I wish I could show you who I really am."

You cupped the curve of his beskar helmet and looked into his visor. "I know who you really are Din, and I love you for it. Whatever happens next, we will figure it out together."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!): @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic

[collabwithmyself]

1-2: Turnabout Transaction (2/2)

Miles hadn't meant to blurt out his trump card. He was stressed and cranky from the trial, and being face to face with the man that had happily ruined the life of a friend of his, had ruined the lives of so many people, had filled him with an indescribable anger that made him shout exactly the wrong thing in an effort to wipe that awful, disgusting smirk off White's face.

Now he was in the detention center on the wrong side of the glass, nursing a black eye that nobody had bothered to treat him for. Maya looked extremely disappointed in him... or at least, it seemed like she did. His glasses had broken upon the impact of White's fist against his face, and their remains had been left behind in the scum's tacky office.

"Do you realize how stupid that was, My?!"

"I'm well aware, I didn't--" Miles paused. "My?"

"Now what are you gonna do? Don't tell me this was your big plan to get me out of jail all along!" Maya thumped one fist against the glass.

"Miss-- Maya, it wasn't my intention to get assaulted or arrested. I certainly do not plan to take this turn of events lying down."

"You better not!" she shouted. She sniffled, and Miles suddenly realized she must be on the verge of tears. "I can't lose you too, okay, you dummy?"

"You... barely even know me..."

"But you stuck it out for me! Sis's killer is still out there, so... so... so you better not give up now, alright?!"

A weak chuckle escaped him. "I wouldn't dream of it."

⁂

But despite his most valiant efforts, everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand. He'd almost had White cornered, could hear the panicked edge in von Karma's voice as she attempted to salvage the situation, but unless he could prove White had been there the day of the crime, it was all for nothing.

He squinted frantically at his notes, at the collection of evidence he had, but nothing was coming into focus. Maya had fallen silent beside him, perhaps sensing the inevitable defeat that was bearing down on him with all the force of a freight train.

"I... I apologize," he whispered to his companion. "It seems I wasn't enough, after all."

"Hey, shut up, Miles," came a voice from beside him that was most certainly not Maya's. He gave a start, then narrowed his eyes at the figure next to him. Taller than him, with arms folded... they had dark hair like Maya, and those robes looked like hers, but this couldn't be Maya. Could it?

"Think, Miles," they urged him, and the sense of deja vu that had been plaguing him since he stepped into court suddenly intensified. "What is it you need?"

His mouth felt dry. For some reason, he didn't feel as though he needed to be concerned about the identity of this stranger. "Pr... Proof White was in Mia's office the day of the murder."

"Alright, what proof is that?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure you've checked everything?"

"I'd very much like to," he snapped, frustration mounting, "but I can't see."

"What?" The figure leaned towards him. "What happened to your eye? What did you do to your glasses, you dingbat?"

"A-Are you going to help me or not?" He bristled at the overly familiar tone they were taking with him.

They sighed and reached over to start rummaging through his papers, bringing up the small sheet with Maya's name on it in blood.

"That doesn't prove he was there," he sighed forlornly.

"Yeah, it does." They turned it over. Miles leaned in, squinting as hard as he could. There was something printed on the other side, but he couldn't make it out.

"...I can't read this."

"Seriously, what happened to your glasses?"

"Just tell me what it says!"

"It's a receipt for that lamp in the office. You know, the one White broke beyond all recognition?"

"Yes, but he claims he saw it when he placed the wiretap a week before the murder."

"Aha. But this receipt is from the day before the murder."

Miles felt the cogs in his head shudder and suddenly start rolling again. He snatched the receipt from his savior's hand, thrusting out his arm frantically.

"HOLD IT!"

Things got messy after that. White tried to squirm his way out of it, and it almost looked like it'd work, but then the person next to him started saying names.

Names he knew.

Names only two other people would know, and one of them was on the witness stand.

Ignoring White's howling and von Karma's choking, he stared, uncomprehending, at the person beside him.

"Mia?"

"What? You--" The figure turned to him, and he distantly registered White sobbing. All of a sudden, the voice seemed so much more familiar. "Miles! Seriously! Where are your glasses?"

"Ah," he mumbled, and his vision darkened around the edges. "I think I'm going to pass out now."

And, presumably, he did.

⁂

When he came to, he almost expected the harsh smell of disinfectant and the steady beep of a heart monitor. Instead, he heard voices he faintly recognized, and registered that he was lying on a very uncomfortable seat.

He groaned and sat up, clutching his head as he attempted to get his bearings. "What..."

"Geez, My, your uncle says you passed right out!" came Maya's voice from somewhere nearby.

"Wh... Ray's...?"

"Don't act so surprised, buddy, I told you I was gonna be there for you today. Your little friend here just beat me to the punch for co-counsel."

"Maya's not even a registered paralegal," Miles managed to say as the world came back into focus - well, as much as it could with his glasses gone.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't say no to that face." Ray chuckled.

"Did... did we win?"

"Yeah! You're not guilty!" Maya cheered.

"And Mr. White's been arrested," his uncle added, sounding proud. "Good work. Your dad would be impressed."

"I..." It all came back to him in a rush, and he leaned back. "...couldn't have done it without Mia."

Ray made a confused noise, but there was a clapping sound from Maya's general direction. "So it did work!"

"Huh? What worked, kiddo?"

"The channeling! I channeled Sis! I helped!"

"You what," Miles said.

"You know we come from a family of spirit mediums, don't you, My?"

"I... yes, but I didn't actually..."

"You are so dumb."

When he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor from that revelation and get to his feet, Ray pushed two things into his hands. One he recognized as his spare glasses, large and clunky. The other was, upon close examination, a key with a figurine attached to it via a chain.

Miles squinted. "Is... is this the Steel Samurai?"

"Hey!" Maya piped up. "That's my spare key! How come you have it?"

"Good question." He slipped the square frames on, frowning when he realized they were slightly small on him. Still, it was a marked improvement for his vision, and he was able to see his uncle shrug.

"Beats me. The lady told me to give it to you."

"Why would Mia give you my key?" Maya mused.

"Perhaps there's something at her office she wants me to see...?"

⁂

But a trip to the office revealed no new information. It was completely clean, like nothing had happened at all, but Miles still felt a chill when he stepped inside.

Maya knelt by the potted plant in the corner, examining it closely. "At least Charley survived," she sighed wistfully.

"Charley?" Miles repeated, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "You named the plant?"

"Hey, Charley is a valuable member of this office," Maya insisted very seriously. After a moment, though, her face fell. "Although he's not gonna be able to work here anymore with Mia gone, huh."

Miles's heart sank. "She worked so hard to secure this place for herself," he murmured.

"I know. And... and now we gotta clear it out, 'cause there's nobody to run the place." Maya was sniffling again. He hated that the sound was becoming familiar.

He searched desperately for something to say, but could only come up with a subdued apology.

"S'not your fault she's dead," Maya said, shaking her head.

Well, in a rather convoluted way, it sort of was, but he didn't want to get into that. Instead, he looked at the key Mia had chosen to entrust to him. The worn metal glinted at him like an SOS signal, and beside it, the Steel Samurai nestled into his palm as though it belonged there.

Why did Mia want him to have this when it didn't even belong to her?

He looked from his open palm to Maya, knelt by Charley the plant, and for a moment he swore he could see a glowing thread connecting the two. He stiffened and gasped as the answer struck him like lightning.

"Eureka," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Maya looked at him and started giggling. "What did you just say?"

"Ngh--" Ignoring his rising blush, he cleared his throat. "I... I think Mia wanted me to look after the office. And after you."

He was not expecting a snort from Maya. "Oh, please. If anything, I've gotta look after you! You're a total disaster, My!"

Miles felt himself flush with indignation. "You are seventeen years old!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get punched because I accused somebody of murder with no one else around!"

"Nngh..."

"Face it, My, you need my help!" Maya had her hands on her hips, a confident grin on her face. "If you're gonna earn the money to keep this place, you gotta listen to everything I say!"

"I never agreed to--"

"First order of business is celebrating!" Maya grabbed his free hand, and with surprising strength for someone so small, she began dragging him towards the door. "There's this great burger joint just down the street Sis used to take me to whenever I came down to visit--"

"Wh-What?!" he squawked "Where do you-- does anyone else know you're here?!"

"Quit worrying so much, My, it's all good!"

"Maya!!"

⁂

You failed.

Not only did you fail to win this trial, you failed to keep your composure. Everyone could see you cry. Everyone could see you lose control.

A von Karma does not lose, and a von Karma does not cry.

You are not worthy of the prestige of your family.

It's like you're not a von Karma at all--

No. That's not true. You are Sascha von Karma.

Your name is Sascha von Karma.

A von Karma never accepts failure.

It's his fault. That man.

Miles Edgeworth.

He makes you sick.

He's going to pay.

[serararku]

Where the Wild Things Are Pt 4

<Theme>

By the time the dirty deed was done, the sun hung high in the sky. It had thoroughly burned away last night's thunderclouds and was halfway done pummeling Thanalan like a drum with its blistering heat. The huntresses were done sharpening their spears, blades and arrows, the wives had already awoken the young to begin their chores, and the sentries had returned to their posts to begin their watch anew. 

Era stirred from her slumber with a thirst strong enough to wake the dead. The first thing she noticed was the soft wool blanket draped over their bodies, two large clay pots filled with crystal-clear water, and a pair of leather loincloths and cloaks; there was only one person that came to mind that was sober enough last night to do this. "Thanks, mom…" Carefully she lifted the covers off her body and wiggled free from her sleeping Nunh's grasp. She had used every trick and every technique in her arsenal to leave a lasting impression, and judging by the stains, smell, and bruises, hopefully her hard work paid off.

There was nothing sweeter than fresh oasis water after a long night such as that one. She couldn't contain herself- once the cool drink splashed against her upper lip, she tilted it back and drank deep. Gulp…! Gulp…! Gulp…! Gulp…! Some of it slipped from the corners of her lips and trickled down her chin, but she couldn't care less; it was too refreshing to notice anything else. With her ravenous thirst defeated, she wiped her mouth dry with her forearm before eyeballing the other one. Surely Vahli wouldn't mind if his favorite wife wanted a little extra?

“Nngh… not so fast…” He groggily groaned as he forced himself onto his side. Undoubtedly he was jolted awake by how obnoxiously loud her drinking was; Era was many things, but a quiet eater was definitely not one of them. Vahli reached over and lifted the large pot with a single hand, but not before pouring half of it into the empty one. A grunt slipped through clenched teeth when he pushed himself up into a sitting position, then he knocked his drink back in only a few giant gulps. Era remained still and silent as she waited for him to quench his thirst. “You weren’t a maiden were you?” Her ears flattened against her head and her breath caught in her throat. She was awful at lying on the spot- and the flicker in his deep red eyes let her know Vahli knew the truth. “No maiden could do what you did last night. But… I’m not angry.” He added reassuringly. “You lived in the tribeless cities for over a year. And with a woman like you… well… Tia of all kinds tend to gather in those places. I want to say I’m disappointed but that would be a lie.”

“Why…?” Was all Era could mumble.

With another grunt and a sharp wince, he tucked his feet beneath him and rose to his full towering height. “Denoh had you exiled from the tribe. You were his by right of conquest. And yet you ran away to chase the man who actually managed to kill your father. But when I defeated him- quite easily I might add- your mother begged me to overrule his decision.” Vahli slowly walked to the window to bask in the warmth of the harsh sunlight. He turned just enough to glance down at Era, and motion for her to join him. “Family is all we have. The Zu… no. All Miqo’te are stronger together. I could not refuse her request… I could not keep a mother from her firstborn daughter.”

“Thank you…” Era sighed, rising to her feet to stand beside him. Maybe it was a good idea she didn’t keep contact after all; knowing she was exiled would have destroyed her. “I.. don’t know what to say.”

“Your ‘thank you’ is enough.” Vahli crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “But not all of my reasons were selfless. She told me you were the most beautiful of all her children. I… hoped you would return to the family while I still drew breath. I’m glad you did.” The Nunh opened his eyes to watch the desert heat cause the wastes to shake and flicker. He was silent for a long moment, until his faint smile began to fade. “Listen. I’m… not stupid. I know how things operate in tribes. I know the rivalries that go on for the Nunh’s affection. And I know you didn’t just blow my mind because your mother convinced you to.” Vahli let his arms drop to his sides as he turned to face her. “You want something. Speak.”

Era pursed her lips as she stared into his eyes. He was a difficult man to read, not just by how he spoke, but how he carried himself as well; he can hide his emotions better than just about anyone and everyone she knows, and the prospect of trying to sidestep his demands with deception didn’t remotely feel like a good idea. Instead she chose honesty. For now.

“I want my father’s glaive.” She blurted out, noticing his eyes shimmer when he blinked.

“No.” Vahli’s face was as still as stone when he gave his answer, but his tone was firm and forceful. “Rarku’s glaive isn’t just a good weapon. It’s a symbol. An icon. The Nunh who wields it commands both the fear and respect he had when he was alive.” He turned back to gaze out the window. “Without the glaive the Drake Tribe will start getting ideas. We have enough enemies already.”

“In that case…” Era started, pausing to inhale sharply. “We need allies. My friends in Ul’dah can help us.”

Vahli grimaced when his gaze returned to her. “Outsiders.”

“They’re good people… and I’m sure they’ll be willing to help us.”

“The Zu do not negotiate with their prey.” He pushed off the window to walk toward the table, distractingly reminding her that they both were still completely naked. “We’ve hunted the halfmen and their wagons for decades. We don’t even speak their clumsy language. They want us dead and gone so they can plunder the dirt for their shiny rocks. We cannot rely on them for anything.”

Era pursed her lips when she hurried back over to his side, almost forgetting how much her entire body ached. “Ul’dah hates us… that’s true. Attacking their caravans hurts their profits… and also the whole… you know… outlawing slavery thing…”

“The Zu do not recognize their authority.” Vahli glowered, scratching at his chin. 

Era remained adamant. “Our ancestors traveled across the frozen sea to find a better life. When our tribe first settled here in Thanalan… we had to adapt to this unforgiving place in order to survive." Slowly she stepped in front of Vahli to keep his attention. "Our hunts used to wield ten times more meat than that giant boar. There may not be enough food to go around. The springs are shrinking… and the enemy gathers at our borders. This cycle can’t continue… is this really what you want for us?”

A low growl hummed from the back of his throat when he grimaced. “Of course not…”

“Gaining the trust of the Immortal Flames will be hard… it may not even happen in our lifetimes. But my friends can help us. We just need an emissary to keep in contact with them.” Era stood as tall as she could and swallowed dryly before adding, “I can do this.”

Vahli didn’t look so convinced. “My favorite wife, out there in the tribeless cities? No.” He turned his back to her as he made his way for the cloak her mother left for them. “It’s too dangerous. They will kill you if they know you’re Zu. Your place is here, birthing and raising children.” Era exhaled slowly and her ears flattened against her head; her pupils dilated and her tail bristled, and Vahli definitely noticed.

“I am Rarku’s firstborn daughter.” She pushed out the words through a trembling voice. “I didn’t just get his eyes and hair. His rage flows through my veins… his anger burns in my heart. After just six moons of training, I fought toe-to-toe with a hundred shelled men and won. Slaughtered an entire pirate crew by myself. Faced off against an unnatural monstrosity and killed it! Imagine what I’ll be capable of after a whole year of training. All that talent would be wasted sitting on my ass with a baby at my nipple.”

He pulled his cloak over his shoulders and adjusted his loincloth in silence. Era kept her mouth shut as she watched him get dressed, already pre-planning to answer what he might ask next. “If you’re as half as good on the battlefield as you are in the bedroom…” He left his sentence hanging while he turned to look at her again. “There is someone waiting for you in the tribeless cities, isn’t there? A lover? More than a casual fling?”

“There was only Tage. I went through hell to get him back… and when I failed… I went through hell again to avenge him.” Era slowly walked over to her own pile of spare clothes and began dressing herself as well, keeping her gaze to the floor. Better to lie to him now than wait until later; Vahli doesn’t know her signs yet. “I want to keep my family and my friends in my life. I may be a decent lay but I’m no mother. Not until I can get rid of this murderous hatred.”

“The tribe needs children. Our territory is too large and our forces too few… we’re spread out thin. But…” He let out a defeated sigh before continuing, “I can’t afford to let your skills go to waste. A deal then? A compromise?”

“I’m listening…”

“Your heart may belong to Tage, but your womb belongs to me.” Vahli puffed up his chest as he studied her closely. “I will let you attempt this ‘treaty’ with the tribeless cities, but you will drop whatever you are doing and return to us should we need your talent for bloodshed. After our enemies are culled and our allegiances cemented you and I will focus on childbearing. Understood?”

Her eyes lit up with a nod and a half smile. “Yes… I understand. Thank you Vahli.”

“You’re recognized as my wife and your status as tribekin has been restored. Seek out Elder Huuna. If anyone knows about you and your father’s rage and how to handle it, it’s her.” Vahli ran his hand down her shoulder and back as he walked past, heading for the exit.

Era remained silent and still. The Elders were a reclusive lot, and set in the old ways more than anyone else. Elder Huuna was especially strange. A cold shiver ran up her spine when she thought about that blind woman and her enigmatic methods. But what choice did she have? If she didn’t resolve her anger issues at least then she would only return to Ul’dah with little more than awkward shame and embarrassment. Without the glaive this entire trip would be more or less just a visit to speak with her mother at the cost of her dignity. No… her choice was more than clear.

With a sharp inhale and bated breath, Era stepped out of Vahli’s chambers and began making her way to the Elder’s tent on the other side of Valhaas Barrow.

[sweetbunnykook]

Invisible Things (M)

Adopted!JK x Detective!Noona - Oneshot/Drabble 

Warning: taboo and toxic relationship, slight smut, angst (light manipulation)

Word: 1,762 

Inspired by Nude by Radiohead 

Synopsis: Jungkook struggles to control himself around you and he hates himself for it. 

“Don’t get a-ny big ideas, they’re not going to happen…”

Jungkook sings softly, careful not to wake you even though you’re separated by a thin but solid wall. He wraps his oversized black and mustard yellow flannel around himself and curls into his pillows. He presses his headphones further onto his ears by the weight of his head. His deep cacao bangs tickle his lashes and with a small shake of his head, he sweeps the strands to one side.

“You’ll go to hell…for what your dirty mind is thinking…”

Can you hear him call out for you? Can you hear his heart weeping? He half hopes you can, and half hopes that you’re clueless to the turmoil resting inside his belly, warm and probing.

Digging his long fingers underneath his pillow, he tugs the end of a pale pink fabric until he can hold it against his chest. He had never wanted to stoop so low, but somehow he knew it was bound to happen, that it was about time he crossed the line. He holds your brassiere up into the golden light luminating from his Iron Man lamp. The superhero’s yellowed eyes stab into the gentle lace as if it could not stand seeing Jungkook hold it so tenderly between his fingers.

Jungkook unhooked the undergarment and brushed his nails over the tarnished metal hooks sewed in the back. Holding it up by the cups, his other fingers trace over the details of the lace sewed onto the otherwise plain surface. He felt white heat, stirring deep in his abdomen, that keeps him gently writhing in bed. His sweatpants tighten uncomfortably around his pelvis, prompting him to reach down and adjust himself as a blush cascades over his acne scar-kissed cheeks.

He reaches over to the Walkman resting next to his pillow, his most precious gift as you had been using the small device since your teenage years, and turns up the volume a tad bit. He wants to drown in the gentle lull of the bass and drums. He wants to drown in the music, away from his screaming thoughts.

How could you do this to her? Do you know how disgusted she would be if she found out? What is wrong with you, you ungrateful little shithead?

Jungkook squeezes his eyes close and brings his blanket over his shoulders. That’s not you speaking, he tells himself; that’s his other mother, the version of you in his head that he’s terrified of disappointing. It’s something he learned to bury inside him, but sometimes she haunts him, follows his angry footsteps.

But he knows, he absolutely knows, you would never be disappointed in him in reality. Upset, maybe. But disappoint? You’re too kind, too naïve, too caring for that. You would simply walk into his room, tell him not to do it again, take the lace away from his hands, and leave. You wouldn’t bring it up again, not over the dining table or over your morning routine of fetching his sports bag from the storage closet.

And that’s why the guilt, despite the stirring in his groin, feels like his chest is about to cave in.

But it’s so, so, so beautiful. The Chantilly lace, looking almost crème in daylight but peony pink under his bedroom lights – he wishes he can see it on you, trace the edges with his lips, breathe in the scent of your perfume-kissed skin. Jungkook groans, audibly, yanking his headphones out and rolling over to the cooler side of the bed. He brings one leg over his black bolster pillow and presses himself against it, seeking friction for the heat in his abdomen multiplies as the lace presses against his cheek. He closes his eyes and replaces the smell of fabric softener with your perfume instead.

Yes, he can just taste how sweet you are. God you’re so soft and supple, your skin warm under his fingertips. He can hear your breath hitch just before your eyes roll back and – fuck – you’re clawing at his shoulders, chanting his name like a prayer. You’re tight, gripping, pulling his heavy length inside you until you can feel his tip nestle in the opening of your cervix. Your lower lip is caught between your front teeth, your eyebrows scrunch in concentration, sweat drips down your jaw onto your clavicle. His pace quickens when you take a hand and squeeze your breasts together, prompting his hips to snap against you like a rubber band.

Nngh, Jungkook, please…please baby, my Kookie, my-

“Jungkook?”

Two innocent knocks and a muffled voice brings the young boy back into reality as he quickly stuffs the sinful fabric underneath his pillow and sits up on the bed, chest heaving, eyes dilated, and still insanely hard. Jungkook quickly brings a blanket up to his hips as the poster-covered bedroom door opens and you peer in; he can see your reading glasses is resting on the lower bridge of your nose, your hair pinned up with a clip, your nightgown loose around your shoulders. You must’ve been in the middle of your nightly reading routine.

“Y-Yeah, mom?” He breathes, inwardly cursing as his voice betrays the panic settling in his stomach.

“I cut up some fruit, do you want some?”

His eyes catch your free hand holding out a small dish of sliced honeydew melon and strawberries. Shit, he’s starving. It only dawns on him, at such an inconvenient time, that he hasn’t had dinner. But he obviously can’t accept your offer or else you’ll walk in to set the dish on his table and you’ll really see the ends of his bangs soaked with sweat and his cheeks pink with shame.

With a heavy heart, Jungkook shakes his head. “I’m okay. T-Thanks, mom. Can you close the door on your way out?”

His voice is desperate, labored.

You flash him a smile and pull the door close, prompting a relieved sigh from Jungkook as he slouches forward. And then the door opens again, your eyebrows scrunched slightly this time. He perks up immediately, clutching the blanket closer to his hips.

“…Are you okay?”

His fists tighten. “Yeah, why?”

There’s a pregnant pause, an undeniable tightness in the air that makes his back prickle with sweat.

Something was off, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Jungkook looks like he has something to hide, but then again, when did he not look like that?

You let yourself in the room, placing the plate of fruit on top of his PlayStation console. His spine straightens – he’s anxious, squirming further into his bed. He’s rather relieved that he’s softening slowly the closer you get. The fear of being shamed (not that you would do something like that if you found out) was too much for his mind to wrap around; he needs to play the role of the innocent and clueless son until you realize that all those men you’re going on dates with aren’t worth your time.

His mask was so close to falling a into place. He could simply say he’s been feeling a little under the weather and that’s why he lost his appetite today. It would explain why his hair is damp from sweat too. The plan was fool-proof, the words resting on the tip of his tongue, heavy with lies.

At least, it was, until your gentle and hesitant fingertips brush over his jaw and behind his ears, eliciting the softest whine you’ve ever heard. Jungkook wanted to rip his heart from underneath his ribs and reveal that you’ve been inside the whole time. He wanted, so badly, to tell you everything that’s been on his mind since he submitted his college applications.

I want to stay with you, mother. I want nothing more than to be your pillar, like you’ve been to me since you found me. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. I want to be with you. Together. Forever.

“Kookie…you know you can tell me anything…right?” You inquire, watching his guilty eyes fall on his lap as his head hangs low. The worry that maybe he mistrusts you, that perhaps a bond with someone you adopted, rescued out of pity, is not as solid as you hoped; it hurt you.

And Jungkook doesn’t want to hurt you, ever. It kills him that he’s made you worry. As soon as he hears your voice sounding so small, not like how you usually are as a prestigious detective of a famous precinct, he knows you’re not going to accept anything but the truth from his doll lips.

So he gives you the truth. Partially.

“It’s just…anxiety, mom.”

You wipe your palm across his damp forehead, underneath his bangs, across his acne scars. Oh how many times you’ve told him not to pick at his skin but he doesn’t listen.

“Do you want me to run you a cool bath?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to rest his head against your bosom. He breathes in your perfume, subtle but pleasant on your skin. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, one hand moving up the nape of his neck to comb his silken tresses. He murmurs something unintelligible, softly, and wrap his arms around your waist.

“Do you ever want something you can’t have?”

You let his hair flow between your fingers. Poor baby, you think, college stress is already getting to him. “Of course. It’s part of being human…but you learn to accept it.”

“What if…what if I can’t accept it? What if I want more and I just keep craving more…and more and more…what happens then?”

You don’t answer him, because even when you have been an adult much longer than he has, there are some questions you can’t answer with complete gentleness. As a mother, it was your duty to bring his hand closer to the fire, let him be a person who is not just your son. But you can’t let him go. You want to hold onto him, just a little bit longer. Just a little bit.

“You’ll know when you get there, darling.”

Jungkook nods, brushing his cheeks up and down your pounding chest.

“But…I have a chance of getting it…don’t I? A true chance?”

You wince slightly when his nails dig into your sides, but you pretend not to notice. You pretend he’s perfect just the way he is.

“Of course, Kookie. Of course you do. Whether you get this…this thing you want, or not, I’ll always be proud of you. I’ll always love you. I hope you remember that.”

[nijisora22]

Jelly

*Short oneshoot* *Established relationship* *KurooHina* *bxb* *i’ve warned ya* *don’t complain to me if you get nightmares later* *not really this is soft* *and fluff* *just a tiny beeny bit of possessive kuroo* *I just suddenly craving to make them* *just scrabble but-meh*

Kuroo being jelly. (That’s literally the plot)

Kuroo loves Hinata.

He loves everything about the boy. He loves it when Hinata called his name, he loves it when Hinata laugh, especially if he was the one that makes him laugh, he loves it when the boy smiled while unconsciously lifting everyone mood. Kuroo is just so in love with the boy, he was infatuated with Hinata. So much that everything feels alright if he was with the boy.

And Kuroo, in the back of his mind, in the part that he lock far too deep in his mind, know that his obsession towards the boy was wrong. It was so wrong that when he actually thinking about it he can feel his stomach twisted and turned, forcing him to puke his dinner that night. He knows yet he can’t do anything about it, because Hinata is perfect, and Kuroo will do anything for the boy even if it’s mean he has to sold his soul to the devil.

And he just felt that nothings wrong as long as Hinata loves him back. Fortunately for Kuroo, Hinata accept his love and even shows that he loved the man back. And just like that they became a couple for almost 3 months now. Kuroo was content with his life, everything went great for him just exactly the way he want, life was so amazing that he thought that he can’t ask for more

Oh boy how wrong he is.

It was when Hinata and the tall black-haired setter that he always rant to Kuroo over the phone walked out from the bus while the taller boy oh so casually put his right arm around Hinata’s neck like an one-hand embrace. It was at that exact moment Kuroo feel like he want to murder someone. Looking at how Hinata laugh while doing nothing to search for him and actually choosing to relaxing into the setter’s arm make his blood boils.

“Who the fuck did he think he is,” 

“Kuroo, did you say something?”

“No, nothing Kenma. How about you go and say hi to chibi-chan?”

“Okay..?” 

That was bad, he almost let his true feelings out. He can’t afford to let his feelings clouded his mind after all, at least not now. 

***

It was until the after-bath time that they actually get some spare time to spend with each other. “I missed you so much,” the younger of the two said while burying his face into Kuroo’s chest. “Me too, Shouyo. Me too,” 

Minutes passed while they’re drowning themselves into each other scent, Simply basking in each other’s presence. 

“Nee, Shouyo?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I mark you?” Kuroo asked while running his fingers through the younger’s oranges locks.

“Hmm-wait what?” 

It was comically instant, how Hinata suddenly looks up to Kuroo with his eyes widening, “You want to what, Tetsu? I think i hear it wrong,” even then the sunshine makes no effort to pull out from the hug. Sighing while looking into his boyfriend warm eyes he said again, 

“I was just, i was, Argh, I was jealous okay. I hate seeing others look at you with honey dripping from their eyes, or how that setter of yours dares to casually touches and half embrace you. I was fucking jealous for hours today.” Kuroo said voice dripping with venom towards the end.

Admittedly this make Hinata’s heart literally blooming, ‘Gotcha,’ 

“Okay? And this make you want to mark me? To show to everyone that I am in fact is yours?” 

“Yea-”

“When the whole teams in this training camp is basically know that we’re dating? Really Tetsu? And it’s not Tobio’s fault okay? He’s just feel more comfortable around me more than the others, it’s the usual gestures Tetsu,” 

‘Come on, just snap already...’

“Shouyo..did you said usual gestures? And what now? First name basis?” 

“Oh no, nope I didn’t mea-mmph-Tetsu no-nngh,”

“Ssshh, I just need to get him out off your head dear,”

“Nnghh-Tets-ahhn-your hands-nggh-”

‘Perfect‘

***

“And that’s how you have hickeys all over your neck?” Yamaguchi just sweatdropped at his friend antics.

“That’s disgusting, what are you, animals in heat?”

“Can you even play today?”

“I can probably, well I hope I can~”

“You idiot, but you know that you will get it right? I mean you were the one that asked me to put my arms around you,”

“And you ask us to be more touchy feely too,”

“So Shrimpy is actually the horny one huh? You better buy give me the promised strawberry shortcake asap by the way,”

“Oh shut up! I’m just gotta claim what mine okay, he was just far more reserved these days so I need some triggers~ Oh and Kageyama be careful today kay? I feel like he will try to get you somehow you was a big help~”

“Wait-what?! OI HINATA! DON’T JUST LEAVE AFTER YOU THROW ME INTO LIFE-THREATENING SITUATION!!”

“Good luck Kageyama..”

“The King is fuming at the peasant, *snort* this is hilarious.”

“HINATAAAAAAAAA.”

***

“What with your face Kuroo?”

“Stop smiling like that-”

“-It’s scary.”

“Nothing~”

***

E.N.D 

P.S : So tbh it was supposed to be more dark and all if you can feel the changes from few first paragraphs into the last few, it was 2am and i feel darky and gloomy but suddenly my bestie called me saying some funny shits and the story changes to be more fluffy than what i intended... should i make the darker version too? 

[wolvesandfoxes25]

What we want:

Chapter 15

(It gets dirtyy people. ;))

“You’re staring, Ino.”

The blonde just flung her hands up, rolling her eyes.

“Well, excuse me forehead for being concerned about you!” She snapped.

Sakura just raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, come on Sakura. You had a-“

“I’m aware of what I went through, okay?” Sakura interrupted, grabbing her tea cup, trying to hide the trembling in her fingers.

Ino just eyed her, mouth firmly shut now.

Silence.

“I just want to move on. I need to for my sake, and for Sarada’s. I wasn’t that far along anyway.” Sakura shrugged.

Ino only shook her head.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t make the loss hurt any less.”

Sakura sighed, but didn’t respond.

 

 

Naruto was staring out his office window, when a knock on the door brought him around.

Kakashi.

“Lord Hokage? Am I interrupting anything?” Kakashi asked, followed by a light blanch behind his mask.

The blonde shook his head.

“Just thinking about Sakura. Last I saw her was over two weeks ago. Her and Ino have been working on Kyona’s case notes, waiting on him to show some sign of waking up. Which he’s not. And it’s really…it’s bringing her down.”

Kakashi nodded, dropping into a chair across from Naruto’s desk.

“Anything on Hinata?”

Naruto just shrugged.

“Heard she’s been seen around town, looking particularly happy. Her new job is treating her well, I’ve looked into some of the stuff they’ve had her do.”

Kakashi listened.

“Bolt and Himawari are staying with me tomorrow, so I have to start leaving earlier later on in the week.”

Silence.

Naruto rubbed his temples, willing his fifth upcoming headache of the day away.

It never helped.

“Well, I’m not sure it’s my business, but how is Sakura doing after the uh-the miscarriage?”

Naruto just looked at him.

“She’s covering up how she really feels. We’ve talked about it, and she isn’t in bed anymore, which I’m wholly grateful for. Other than that, she’s been trying to move on.”

Kakashi just nodded, feeling the knot that he came in here with start to tighten again.

“Naruto. There’s been a ripple of disturbance outside the village.”

The blondes ears perked up, Kurama stirring.

“What kind of disturbance are we talking about here?”

Kakashi leaned up, reaching up to pull his mask down.

Huh, that’s new.

“So, you’re just taking your mask off willy nilly now?” Naruto asked, eyebrow arching.

Kakashi shrugged, “Well, after nineteen years I think you’re due some face time. And since I don’t go out on missions as much, I don’t see the point of constantly concealing my features anymore.”

Can’t argue with that logic.

“Anyway, what I mean by disturbance is a simple ripple, like when I got thrown into a Tsukuyomi. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

Naruto stared at him for a moment and looked out the window.

Something wasn’t right about this.

“You said it was outside the village?” Naruto asked the silver haired man.

Kakashi nodded, crossing a leg over his knee.

“It was only once, I was coming in from training with some of the younger ninjas and just felt…off.”

Naruto nodded, feeling Kurama stir again.

Welp. Something isn’t right about this.

“Naruto.” Kakashi interjected, and he looked over at the older man, raising an eyebrow towards him.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t felt it since, maybe it was just a fluke?”

The blonde didn’t believe that though.

He said nothing.

 

Sakura sighed for the thirtieth time, wanting to just get home.

She had spent the majority of her day looking over research notes with Ino. Her sick leave was up tomorrow, and she was trying to restock her kitchen and food.

Grabbing a couple of leaks, Sakura checked her basket, and thanked Kami.

She finally had everything.

Standing up abruptly, she accidentally ran into a person who was walking behind her.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” She said, turning to apologize.

Hinata.

Both of the women just stared at the other, and Sakura felt a trickle of uneasiness roll down her spine.

Silence.

The raven haired woman just continued to look at her, white eyes starting to mist over.

Oh Kami, was she going to cry?

Sakura wasn’t sure if she could bear that.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered firmly, and turned around to leave, when she felt a hand on her elbow.

Sigh.

Turning her head a little, she watched as Hinata put a firm expression on.

“Let’s talk somewhere, please?”

 

 

It was awkward. Oh Kami, was it awkward.

They sat in silence for close to ten minutes, until finally Sakura broke it.

“Hinata. I’m so sorry.” She whispered, feeling the sting of tears start to cloud her eyes.

The Hyuuga nodded softly.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. And I know that sounds really cliche, but, I’m telling you the truth. I swear.”

Hinata nodded again, taking small sip from her tea.

Sighing soundly, she put down her cup gently.

“I understand that you didn’t plan any of this, Sakura. But, I don’t know how you and I can ever be true friends again.”

Sakura bit her lip but nodded, knowing that was coming.

“I know you must hate me, Hinata.”

The darker haired woman shook her head at that, fiddling with her cup.

“I don’t hate like that. Not when I know that feelings can’t be helped between two people.” Hinata muttered, glancing away from the pinkette to stare out the window.

Sakura wanted to ask what that meant, but decided to mind her own business regarding the matter.

 

 

That night, Sakura laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about her conversation with Hinata. They parted on amicable terms, both of them waving slightly and heading off from one another.

Sakura didn’t know how to take any of that, it seemed like nothing had been mended.

She didn’t know if it ever could be.

Knock.

“Why do you always have to climb in my window, Naruto?” She asked in exaggeration, watching the six feet tall man stumble through into her home.

He was such an idiot sometimes.

“I just don’t want to wake Sarada. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.” He responded, removing his sandals, putting them beside the door.

“She knows pretty much all there is to know. Well, not everything.”

The young Hokage snapped his head towards her, arching an eyebrow.

“Does she really?”

Sakura nodded, shrugging lightly.

“She’s really perceptive, it’s one of her many talents.” Sakura smiled.

Naruto chuckled, leaning back on his elbows, yawning a little bit.

Sakura watched him remove the majority of his clothes, glancing over his body. Kami, he looked so different from the teenage boy he used to be. All of his skin was sun-kissed, his arms and legs lightly smattered with blonde hair. Then there were his muscles, they had only grown firmer, and expansive over his body.

He was nothing short of beautiful.

“Sakura?”

She shook her head, clearing the fog from her mind.

“Were you talking the whole time?”

He nodded, giving her a little smirk.

“What were you thinking about, Sakura?” He asked, feigning innocence.

The pinkette just smiled a little, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Naruto nodded, laying back on the bed again, his muscles bunching up around his stomach, his abdomen flexing in the low light of the room.

His blue eyes never leaving hers, he moved his hand down his stomach, over his thighs and right over his manhood, cupping it in front of her.

Sakura sucked in a breath, feeling heat settle in her belly and burn downwards.

“You wouldn’t.” She said to him, the both of them still locking eyes, her daring him to continue.

He gave a cheeky grin, fingertips grazing over the front of his boxers, teasing the hardening appendage trapped in the cloth.

“Oh, I would, Sakura.” He whispered huskily.

She sucked in a breath, moving over to the door to lock it.

 

“Are you in any pain?” Naruto mumbled against her skin, the two of them making out for the last few minutes.

Sakura shook her head.

“N-No. Since you left last, I’ve stopped bleeding.”

Naruto nodded.

“Any pain?”

Sakura shook her head vigorously, trailing her hand down his chest.

“Good.”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Naruto grabbed a hold of her legs and pulled her towards him, eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman.

Running his hands up her thigh, he stopped at the button on her pants, flicking his eyes up in permission to continue.

She nodded.

Leaning up, he found her lips with his, managing to get her pants unclasping, shoving them downwards.

 

After they were both nude, the two of them just lay still, kissing over skin and groaning lightly into the night air.

Naruto trailed his lips up, running his tongue over her neck, stopping at the shell of her ear.

“Nngh.” Sakura gasped, clutching his biceps.

Naruto smirked at the sound, feeling a rush of pride alight within him. He loved the sounds he could get her to make.

“Sakura.” He mumbled, shoving his nose into her hair, moving his right hand down her belly and through her soft curls at the base of her womanhood.

Green eyes swept up to meet his gaze, cheeks rosy.

Groaning, he played with her entrance, gathering up the fluid that was going to make his trek inside of here easier.

Sakura lifted her hips, trying to force his finger inside.

Tsking, Naruto pulled away.

“Patience, Sakura.” He growled down at her, watching as a shudder vibrated through her body.

Naruto had plans for her tonight.

Moving down the bed, Naruto ran his hand over her ass, a rising growl from Kurama coming forward.

Pushing it back, he grasped at Sakura’s thighs, flipping her around. Squeaking slightly, Sakura looked back at him over her should, raising an inquisitive brow.

He only smirked, pulling her hips up from the bed.

“What are you doing?” She whimpered, her thighs starting to tremble.

Naruto didn’t answer, kissing her hipbone softly, trailing down to her beautiful, shaking thighs. His tongue following suit after.

Pushing her up a little bit, Naruto’s fingers grabbed at her ass fully, opening her up for him to view every crevice.

Sakura gasped loudly, swiftly biting her tongue.

“Gotta be quiet, Sakura.” Naruto muttered hotly.

Kami, was she beautiful.

He was definitely an ass man.

Her hole was almost hairless, her womanhood itself only covered with a very small amount of hair as well.

Moving out, he watched as the liquid on her essence lay trapped between her folds, beckoning him in.

Dipping low, he licked lightly at her folds, a light gasp hitting his ears from above.

Grunting softly, his hands still gripped at her inner thighs to hold her open, his mouth and tongue tracing her clit and labia over and over again, tremors starting to run entirely through her.

“You taste so damn good.” He told her, kissing her clit, trying to catch as much of her essence as he could.

Sakura whimpered, shoving her hips back against his face, starting to move her hips to his ministrations.

“Yeah, that’s it, Sakura. Get into it for me.”

Kami, he was hard.

But, he had a mission, and this was almost it, but not quite.

Continuing to kiss at her wetness, Naruto moved up and up.

“Oh, oh Kami.” Sakura grit out, feeling his tongue move over her…other area.

Naruto didn’t notice, tonguing at her tightly furled hole, groaning at the noises she was making, her hips riding his face slowly.

Fuck, he had to have her.

Pulling back, Naruto quickly slid a finger into her heat, hissing at the tightness that welcomed him.

“Y-Yes, please. Please, Naruto.” She gasped out, moving up and down his hand, throwing her head back and moaning.

The blonde nodded, swiftly adding a second finger, blue eyes devouring the image of her body taking him in.

Pulling his fingers out gently, Naruto grabbed his manhood, slicking up the pulsating skin, hissing at the contact.

Sakura was whimpering, digging her fingers into the bedspread.

Plunging forward, Naruto pushed his throbbing length through her folds, leaning down to suck at her neck and buck his hips forward, driving himself inside.

“O-Oh.” Sakura gasped.

Naruto lifted himself off of her upper body, sitting back on his haunches, shoving her front into the bed, moving over her quivering form again.

“N-Naruto!” She gasped, pushing her hips back on his dick, gasping and moaning with him as she drove herself towards her pleasure.

“Just like that, Sakura. Take it, take it all.”

She bit her lip, shutting her eyes.

Gripping her wrists in his hands, Naruto watched her body arch into his pelvis, his entire girth buried inside of her, making him want to snarl and dig his fingers into her hips. Shaking his head, he shoved back the possessiveness he felt, feeling Kurama stir.

Welp.

Breed her.

Naruto’s nostrils flared at the pink opening taking him in, sucking in his manhood.

“Yes.” He hissed, setting a faster pace.

Sakura flailed, meeting every thrust of his with her own.

“I’m c-close.” She whimpered.

Naruto growled, pushing his nose into the crook of her neck, feeling the chakra of Kurama take him over.

Fangs elongating, eyes reddening, Naruto sniffed at the spot he had marked before and nibbled at it, keeping up with his constant thrusting.

“Naruto!” Sakura suddenly cried out.

Do it now!

Sinking his fangs into the same spot, Naruto felt as Sakura stilled, and started shaking, rolling her hips sporadically.

“Coming. I’m coming.” She gasped.

And he followed right after her.

 

Sakura was snuggled up to him, drawing lazy circles on his stomach.

“Are you going to do that every time?”

Naruto looked over at her, feeling a wave of unease fall over him.

“The biting?”

Sakura nodded.

“I-I don’t have to do it, if it makes you uncomfortable, Sakura. O-Or if it hurts, does it hurt?” He rambled.

Sakura sat up and looked at him, giving a small smirk.

“If you haven’t noticed, I rather enjoy it. If you were to do anything I don’t like, I’d tell you. Okay?”

Naruto nodded slowly, grasping the back of her head, pulling her lips to his.

 

“I have something to tell you Sakura. And I think you’re the perfect person to talk to about it.”

The pinkette nodded, staring into his face.

“Kakashi came into my office today and said he felt a ripple outside the village.”

Sakura furrowed her eyebrow, snuggling into his side further.

“A ripple?”

Naruto nodded.

She pondered for a second, feeling a strange tugging in her belly at the mere mention of this ‘ripple.’

Suddenly, it hit her.

Sitting up straight, Sakura grabbed her chest, feeling her breathing quicken.

Naruto gripped her elbow, “Sakura? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Gasping, Sakura felt the room roll around her. Oh Kami, she couldn’t breathe.

“I-I can’t…can’t..” She tried to tell him, clutching her throat, feeling the onslaught of hysteria and panic wash over her.

“Sakura. Breath. Look at me.”

She did.

“You’re having a panic attack. Just breathe. In for five, out for five. Here, do it with me.”

At that, they both sucked in air at the same time, Sakura shaking in his arms.

 

After a few minutes, Sakura seemed to have pulled herself together.

“Are you alright?” Naruto questioned, keeping his hand near her person.

Sakura nodded.

“I’m sorry, that just brought up a lot of unpleasant memories. I-It was when we got sucked into that Tsykuyomi. F-From Madara.”

Naruto’s eyes widened.

“Menma.”

Sakura nodded.

“Oh Kami, what if it’s him? What would he want here?”

Silence.

Sakura stared at the tick in Naruto’s cheek until she couldn’t take it anymore. Standing up, she started to pace by her window, gripping her hair, whimpering.

“Sakura. Hey.” Naruto called out to her, getting out of the bed.

She didn’t answer.

He reached out and gripped her shoulder, turning her around, pressing her against his chest.

“It’ll be alright.” He whispered into her hair.

Sakura just shook her head.

“Naruto. If it is him, he could cause some serious damage. Remember what happened last time? He tried to take the nine tails from you! And he almost succeeded!”

The blonde squeezed her against him harder.

“Well, if memory serves me correctly, we won that, Sakura.”

The kunoichi just shuddered, taking a deep breath in.

“I know. I was just so afraid of losing you.”

Naruto gripped her cheeks softly, pulling her gaze to his.

“Together, remember?”

Sakura nodded.

“Together.”

[annzybwrites]

Truth or Dare: Coming Out Edition (Chapter 2: The Main Event)

Read on AO3 | Donate to my Ko-Fi if you like | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

A South Park Fanfiction ft. Creek, Style, and Bunny

The big group of ten took turns playing Mario Kart. Whoever wasn’t playing either cheered on their favorite current players, or sectioned themselves off to talk one on one or two on two.

Just as Tweek had guessed, he was hyper aware of every time he saw Kenny and Butters whispering to each other. Butters seemed to be giggling and laughing a lot over whatever Kenny was telling him, though there were a few times where he frowned, swatted Kenny’s shoulder, and huffed, “Not appropriate, Ken!” To which the latter just snickered and winked.

Winked. Something HAD to be going on between them, right??

“Babe,” Craig whispered, gripping Tweek’s chin to pull his gaze away. “Stop staring, geez.”

“I can’t help it, Craig!!” Tweek chewed at his bottom lip, his eyes rolling to the side as if he could see them through his skull. “It’ll be so nice not to be the only gay couple in school anymore!”

Craig sighed and released his chin. “I know, honey, but you know staring isn’t nice.”

“Nngh!” Tweek closed his eyes to stop himself from staring. “I know!!”

“Just try and relax, Tweek.” Craig pulled him closer, resting Tweek’s head against his shoulder. “We’re going to play Truth or Dare soon and then you can ask some questions.”

“What if they don’t want to answer??” Tweek asked, opening his eyes again as he gripped Craig’s shirt tight in his hand. “If they didn’t want it to be a secret, we’d already know, right??”

“That,” Craig starts slowly, rubbing at Tweek’s back to ground him. “Or there’s nothing to tell.”

“... Oh.” Tweek blinks, relaxing a little. “Yeah, that’s true!”

“Can we do truth or dare yet?!” Clyde started whining, upside down in his favorite chair so he could kick his feet against the top. “I’m boooored!”

“Well,” Token paused the game and looked at his watch. “I guess we could. Unless you guys wanna open presents, first?”

“Nah,” Stan set the controller down and stretched a little. “Let’s open presents at midnight.”

“Midnight!” Butters spoke up, looking a little worried. “Oh, I’ll be falling asleep by then! You guys won’t draw dicks on my face, will ya?”

“Don’t worry, baby bear,” Kenny patted Butters’ back with a serious expression. “I’ll protect you.”

“Well gee, thanks, Ken!”

“Baby bear?!” Clyde wheezed in shock. Tweek’s jaw just dropped in surprise, so he was glad when Craig closed it for him.

“Okay!” Token stood up and clapped his hands to gain attention of the room. “Truth or dare it is! Everyone get in a circle! Clyde,” he turned to give him a look, “go get the Hershey’s kisses.”

“On it, boss!” Clyde gave a little salute before somersaulting off the chair and running to the spread of candy on the counter.

Soon, everyone was seated in a big circle on the floor (or in a chair if it was close enough), and had three Hershey’s kisses for their “passes.”

“Who wants to go first?” Token asked, ever the perfect host.

“Ooh ooh!” Clye swung his arm wildly in the air. “Me, me, me!!”

Token sighed and gestured to Kyle. “Why don’t you go.”

“Hey!!”

Kyle chuckled a bit, giving Clyde an amused look. “Okay, dude, you can go next, but first - truth or dare?”

“Hm…” Clyde tapped his chin, narrowing his eyes at Kyle as if to guess what he was thinking. “Dare!”

Kyle grinned, sharing a look with an also-grinning Stan before turning back to his victim. “I dare you to call Bebe and tell her you hate her new shoes.”

Clyde gasps, slapping his hands to his cheeks in mortification. “If I do that, she’ll give me a black eye!!”

“What, you’re chickening out already?” Kyle snickered, sharing a low five with Stan who was trying not to lose it.

“I t-told you!” Stan tried to speak between his laughter. “Clyde’s a wimp with Bebe.”

“I am not!!” Clyde glared at the two of them before pulling out his phone. “I’ll do it right now!!”

“Craig, make sure he’s actually calling Bebe,” Kyle requested.

“No, fuck you,” Craig replied, not wanting to move from his position of holding Tweek’s hand. “You do it.”

Tweek frowned and poked his cheek. “Craig, come on. You’re closer.”

Craig sighed and begrudgingly moved away, stealing Clyde’s phone to call Bebe for him. “There, it’s ringing.”

“CraIG!!” Clyde started freaking out and almost dropped the phone, sweating nervously as his heart leapt into his throat. “Shit shit shit!”

“You have to leave a message if she doesn’t answer!” Stan added, covering his mouth to try and stop his snickers.

“I hate you both so much -!” Clyde hissed just as Bebe picked up.

“Hello? Clyde? Aren’t you at that sleepover thing?”

“Y-yeah!” Clyde was starting to shake with nerves. “Um, I was just calling to tell you… uh…” He glared at Stan and Kyle who were snickering and gesturing for him to continue. Not to say everyone else wasn’t chuckling a little, but the two instigators were definitely the loudest. “I hate your new shoes!!”

“... What!?” Bebe snapped so loud that the phone’s audio crackled.

“Okay, bye!!” Clyde hung up before she could say anything more and threw his phone onto the couch. “Well, I’m not going to even look at that thing for a few hours.”

Most of the group started laughing openly now, joking about how Clyde would have a million messages and missed calls by tomorrow.

“You’re right,” Token teased, smirking at him. “She’ll give you a black eye the next time she sees you.”

Clyde puffed his cheeks out again in a pout before sputtering, “Truth or Dare, Token!!”

“After that, definite Truth.” Token held up a hand. “No way am I risking you daring me to do anything with Nichole.”

“Damn it.” Clyde groaned and tossed his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “Um…” His face split into a wide grin as he snapped back to look at him. “Tell us about a wet dream you’ve had!”

Kenny snorted and offered Clyde a high-five, which he gladly took. Token, on the other hand, was starting to turn red, seriously considering using one of his free passes.

“It doesn’t have to be the most intense wet-dream you’ve had,” Stan offered. “Just one of them. Like a weird one.”

“That’s assuming I’ve had more than one!” Token snapped in embarrassment.

Kenny snickered as he offered, “If you share one, I’ll share one of mine~”

“No fucking way,” Kyle deadpanned. “You’ve told me some of yours, Kenny - no one wants to hear them.”

“Kenny’s told you about his wet dreams?” Stan asked, raising a brow at him. “Why?”

Kyle just shrugged, looking away from his best friend. “You know how Kenny is.”

“Not yet he doesn’t,” Kenny purred, winking at Stan and wiggling his fingers at him. Butter started laughing then and covered his face.

“Helloooo,” Clyde interrupted. “I’m still waiting for Token’s wet dream!”

Token groaned and brought his knees up to his chest, burying his face against them. “Fine!”

He proceeded to tell them about a dream he had involving himself being a pirate captain hunting for mermaids, but once he found one he somehow shifted into a merman and they went to a coral reef to make out.

“Ooh!” Butters clasped his hands together, a big smile on his face. “That sounds fun, though!”

“Tame, but fun,” Kenny agreed.

Token just grunted in response before surveying the circle. “Tweek, truth or dare.”

Tweek tensed up, his cheeks pink from Token’s Truth response and his nerves swirling around in his guts. “Um… D… Dare!”

“Yeah?” Token smiles softly. “I dare you to… tell Craig you hate him.” Most of the circle booed him, saying that was a lame dare, but he argued, “It’s Tweek’s first time! Let’s go a little easy on him.”

“Ack!” Tweek didn’t seem to like the idea anyway and turned to Craig with wide, apologetic eyes. “I don’t wanna do that!!”

Craig chuckled, the corners of his mouth upturning in amusement. “It’s okay, Tweek. I know it’s not true.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t want to say it!” He whined, pulling at his fingers. “Craig, I… I hate you!!” He covered his face right afterwards. “Ugh, that sucked!”

Craig was still smiling, reaching to stroke some of Tweek’s hair back, as if he were a cat. “You did great, Tweek. Ask someone else now.”

“Mmmm.” He looked at everyone through his fingers. “Jimmy, Truth or Dare.”

“Oh!” He straightened up in excitement. “I’ll take a d-dare, as well!”

Tweek took a deep breath, staring down at the carpet as he tried to come up with a good one. He didn’t want to do anything too mean, but he didn’t want everyone to boo him either. “Um… I dare you to… eat a huge spoonful of peanut butter without drinking any milk!”

Clyde absolutely lost it, rolling onto his back as he cackled, “Was that the b-best you could come up with!?”

“I mean, that would be pretty uncomfortable,” Butters said, making a face as he thought about it. “Peanut butter is so sticky!” Kenny snorted and covered his mouth, so Butters pouted at him and poked his head. “Get that mind out of the gutter, mister!”

“Well,” Token interrupted, standing up. “Let’s get to the kitchen so Jimmy can eat his peanut butter.”

“This’ll be fff, ffun,” Jimmy cheered as he slipped his lofstrand crutches back into place to stand. “Let’s go f-f-fellas!”

Truth or Dare continued for quite awhile after that, with each boy trying to get even more wild with their propositions. Even Timmy was dared to wear underwear (clean, thankfully) on his head for three rounds. And, Clyde kept trying to either ask or dare Craig to talk about when he first fell in love with Tweek. His strategy was to get Craig to use up all of his passes, and with only one left, he was grinning ear-to-ear and just waiting to get two more turns.

“Won’t be long now, Craigy~” Clyde sang. “You’ll have to tell us sooner or later!”

“Unless we just stop picking you altogether,” Stan pointed out, since it was his turn.

Clyde turned crestfallen, clasping his hands together to practically beg, “Pleeeaaase pick me, Stan! I’ll do your homework for a week!”

“Dude, you get worse grades than me. Not a chance.”

“Then I’ll do your chores!!”

“Tempting,” Stan tapped his chin, thinking about it. “But, nah. I have something else in mind. Craig, Truth or Dare.”

“Just to torture Clyde, Truth.”

Clyde whined in agony and flopped onto his back as Stan replied, “Hm… kind of similar to Clyde’s question, but how did you… I mean, what made you,” he struggled to find the right words, and everyone’s eyes on him didn’t help. He took a breath before managing to ask, “How are you so okay with being gay? And, like, having that as one of the main ways people think of you?”

Craig raised a brow at him, curiosity etched into his face. He leaned backwards onto his hands, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Like, I dunno, man.” Stan was starting to mumble, his gaze cast to the floor. “I just feel like once someone’s labeled as “gay,” that’s like… the only thing people think about you. Like it doesn’t matter what else you do - doesn’t matter if you’re a genius, or great at sports, or great at film in your case. You’re just… gay, and nothing else.”

The circle was quiet after Stan’s little speech, most assuming that Stan had a very personal reason for asking this question. Kyle was staring at his friend in slight shock, mouth open slightly, and Tweek actually felt still for once. Craig did say there might be other gay couples in the school - was Stan in one of them?

“Well,” Craig started out slowly, startling everyone out of their own thoughts. “I, personally, don’t feel like that. I mean, yeah, obviously some people are only interested in talking to me because I’m gay, like the yaoi fangirls, or some of the adults, but they can go fuck themselves. I have friends who actually know me and don’t only think of my sexuality when they think of me.” Craig gestured to Clyde. “He’s the exception, since he’s my friend and also very interested in my relationship. But I’m sure he’d be just as interested if I was with a girl, so it doesn’t bother me much.”

Clyde grinned, giving him two thumbs up. “You got that right, bro. I’m supportive 100%. Unless you break Tweek’s heart.”

Craig smiled softly, leaning over to kiss Tweek’s cheek, causing the blonde to squeak in surprise. “I would never break his heart. It’s too precious.”

“Cr-Craaaiiig!!” Tweek whined and covered his face with both hands, curling up as if to hide. “God, stop!!” He curled up even more when he heard the others just chuckle at him.

“Does that answer your question, Stan?” Craig asked, staring straight at him.

“Yeah.” Stan nodded, his eyes far away as he avoided looking at anyone in particular. “Thanks, man.”

“Great. Kyle, Truth or Dare.”

“What?” Kyle jumped a little, turning his head away from Stan. “Oh, uh. Truth, I guess.”

“Do you consider yourself 100% straight?”

Once again, the circle was struck silent. Craig’s blunt question caught everyone off guard. Everyone turned to look at the redhead, but no one was prepared for Kyle’s response.

“Not really, no.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Please consider donating to my Ko-Fi if you enjoyed!)

[thefaithie]

WC, Chapter 4

Wrong Conclusions Chapter four: The Consequence of Seat Switching

Within a few hours, a movie was chosen as were a couple of pizzas. Seeing as that Beast Boy was the 'man of the hour', Starfire and Raven had both agreed that for once, they could splurge on more then one pizza and had gotten a 'meat-lovers' for Robin and Cyborg and a nice 'vegetarian dream' for Beast Boy. Raven usually didn't eat too much pizza to begin with, and Starfire ate anything if she was allowed to add her own personal toppings to it, so their choices weren't an issue. The movie itself was a horror flick, as per usual, but Beast Boy had made sure that it had nothing to do with any vampires. Every time Cyborg had mentioned the word, Beast Boy had come close to hurling.

Beast Boy and Cyborg had been the first to return to the Titans Tower. They had popped the DVD into the player and then went to forcefully drag Robin away from what he had claimed to be a breakthrough in their villain's identity. Starfire and Raven had appeared not ten minutes later with the pizzas and set them onto the table.

Now, the movie was about to begin, and Cyborg stood up in front of Robin (who was moodily tapping his fingers on his arms, which were crossed over his chest) to tell the Titans something about the movie. "This here's a brand-spanking-new horror flick. It's said that someone had a heart attack just watchin' it! It's all about zombies and ghosts -- but no vampires 'cause widdle BB's too scawed," Cyborg flashed a challenging glance at Beast Boy, who was leaning over the couch to watch Cyborg's summary with Raven and Starfire right behind him. To everyone surprise, Beast Boy just gave a weak laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"Er...yeah. Anyway!" Cyborg continued, tossing the DVD case carelessly to the side and sitting down on Robin's left. "C'mon! Sit down everyone, so we can start this thing!"

"Great. Another night of meaningless horror movies. How fun," Raven muttered to herself, watching Starfire float towards the couch. To her surprise, though, Starfire sat on the other side of Cyborg, rather than next to Robin. And what surprised her even further was that Beast Boy, after giving Robin a strange look-over, smiled meekly and sat right beside Starfire, himself, on the corner.

Robin, too, seemed a bit taken-aback by this. Starfire had always sat right beside him during horror movies... She usually used his cloak to shield herself whenever she got scared. Robin looked back at Raven, who merely shrugged and floated forward to take the last available seat, which was next to Robin in the corner opposite Beast Boy.

Cyborg, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the strange actions and merely continued on with the merriment. "About time. Okay -- let's go!" Cyborg pulled out a remote and pressed a button to turn the lights off, then another one to turn the movie on. Cyborg was into the movie within mere minutes. Robin was lost in the movie quickly as well, as it begin with somewhat of a detective mystery surrounding a strange murder, where as Raven was already beginning to pull out a black book and pretending to ignore the movie best she could. She was thankful for times like this, when she could spend time with her friends and all, but horror movies simply didn't appeal to her, especially after that time she had been frightened into losing her powers.

Beast Boy and Starfire, though, didn't have their attention averted quite so quickly. Both looked from the corner of their eyes at Robin and Raven sitting next to one another, both feeling stabs of jealousy, annoyance at themselves, and disappointment as they did so. Thankfully, it was dark, so none of the Titans noticed that the two were looking -- not even Starfire and Beast Boy. As far as the each knew, the other was lost in the movie, already.

As much as I hate to admit it, they do look good together... Beast Boy growled bitterly at himself, mostly for being so jealous of Robin in the first place. Dude, I gotta get over this! They like each other! Heck, they may even love each other! It's not like I can blame her...Robin's only, like, a million times cooler than me. And I can't blame Robin, either. I mean, if I fell for Raven, why couldn't he? Man, he probably made a move on her a long time ago, too. I should've been quicker! For all I know, it's all it would've taken for her to at least like me...

As Beast Boy mentally wounded himself further, Starfire merely let out and a small sigh and looked up at the movie. Beast Boy was clenching his hand in a fist, almost ready to literally hit himself in the face when he heard her sigh. She was right beside him, after all, and he needed something to snap him out of his mental self-abuse.

So once he heard her sigh, Beast Boy turned his head a bit to look at Starfire's face, which was just barely visible in the dim light emitted from the television screen. It practically ripped his heart in half to look at the poor Tamaranian's expression. She was usually so happy and peppy, but her eyes were so depressed and lonely at that particular moment...The look didn't suit her. At all.

What's up with Star...? Beast Boy asked himself, studying her for a few more moments from the corner of his eye. Within a second, he was mentally smacking himself in the face for not having realized earlier. Of course! Star's totally got the hots for Robin! Man, I forgot she likes him so much with the whole Raven thing going on. She must hate seein' 'em together more than I do! He clenched his teeth, angry at himself for being so self-absorbed recently. But the anger faded, as he looked at her expression again. I wish I could make her feel better... It isn't the same, when she's sad...

"...What is wrong, Beast Boy?" Starfire whispered, turning her head very slightly to look more directly at Beast Boy. He had an uncomfortable look on his face, and she didn't think it was caused by the movie. "Are you positive you are unharmed?"

"Huh?" The Changeling blinked in surprise, before shaking his head vigorously to rid it of any thoughts he had been having a moment before. He managed to lower his voice to an only-slightly-too-loud whisper. "Yeah, fine, fine! Just kinda tired from today. Must've spaced out!" Beast Boy let out his normal, high-pitched laugh while scratching the back of his head.

Cyborg growled darkly around Starfire and hissed, "Shut it, will you?", causing Beast Boy to go completely silent with a guilty expression.

"Well...If you claim so to be true," Starfire said quietly and went back to having her eyes on the movie, though she seemed to be looking almost past the screen instead of directly at it. With a small sigh and one last glance towards Starfire's sad face, Beast Boy finally began to do the same.

Two hours later, the movie finally ended. Raven had managed to ignore the entire thing, where as Robin, Cyborg, and Beast Boy were gaping in horror. Starfire was clinging to Beast Boy's arm and whimpering into it, although apparently, Beast Boy didn't even notice she was there.

"...Ugh, I remember why I hate zombies so much," Robin was a slightly paler color than usual.

"Dude, that was sick...!" Cyborg made a motion to vomit, but seemed to stop himself in time, a closed hand covering his mouth. Raven still scooted away just in case.

"Oh, man, maybe vampires WOULD'VE been better-" But Beast boy's commentary was cut off as his attention was drawn to the arm Starfire was clinging to. She had let out a whimper and dug her nails into his arm.

"Are the walking undead no longer on the screen...?" She managed to squeak out, causing Beast Boy and Cyborg to laugh a bit.

"It's only a movie, Star! And yeah, it's over," the Changeling said with a laugh, as Cyborg joined in. Starfire whimpered again while hesitantly pulling her face away, but refusing to un-dig her nails from Beast Boy's arm.

"But...but I fear they may return!" She cried.

"Yeah, Star, you can deal with vampire-boys flyin' around without so much as yawning, but when it's a guy in a lot of make-up and rubber, you head for the hills," Beast Boy taunted.

"Ooh, don't let the scary make-believe-man get me! Out of my way, sludge beast, I'm hiding from a guy with make-up!" Cyborg imitated Starfire, causing her to smile a bit at her own silliness.

As Beast Boy and Cyborg continued to lightly taunt Starfire's fear of movies but her lack of any fear during battle, Raven and Robin both looked over at the three, having slightly different reactions. They didn't feel like teasing Starfire.

Robin accidentally crushed a piece of crust he was holding in his hand, a sudden wave of anger washing over him. He didn't know why, but every second Starfire continued to hold onto Beast Boy's arm seemed to send a new wave of rage pulsating through his veins. It shouldn't have been a big deal; Starfire hugged people all the time, and that had never bothered him before. But there was some form of territorial voice going off in Robin's head, telling him that Starfire was supposed to be clinging to HIM, to HIS arm right now -- not Beast Boy's. She always sat next to him during horror movies for protection. Why... why was the suddenly avoiding him and going to Beast Boy, of all people, instead?

In Raven's head, a small twinge of annoyance kept going off. She didn't know why, really, and merely assumed it had to do with Beast Boy and Cyborg's taunting. After all, Raven had not had it any better when they had made fun of her fears. They had no right to go after Starfire in such a way, after what happened with Raven. But then again, Starfire was sort of asking for it, sitting right between Beast Boy and Cyborg, rather than Robin...

...Why WAS she sitting next to Beast Boy rather than Robin?

Raven blinked a bit as her eyes focused in on Starfire's hands on Beast Boy's arm. She felt another annoyed twinge in her system. "Nngh," She let out an uncomfortable sound, suddenly slamming her book shut, and causing Beast Boy and Cyborg to go quiet mid-joke.

"I'm going to bed," the half-demon said calmly. "Everyone else probably should, too, with that vampire-guy still running around and everything." With that, she began to float off towards her room.

Robin hopped to his feet instantly, happy to have an opportunity to break Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Starfire up. "Raven's right. We should all go to bed after that fight today. Especially you, Beast Boy," the Boy Wonder gave a smile; half because Beast Boy had done so well that day, and half because Starfire had finally let go of the Changeling's arm. He didn't know why, but the latter caused a cool feeling of relaxation to quickly spread through his body.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Beast Boy let out a small laugh, hopping to his feet. Cyborg stood up as well, and Starfire simply hovered a few feet above the couch.

"Mm," Robin gave a small nod before turning to walk off. "I think I'll call it a night for now, too. Good night," He waved lightly to his friends, only Starfire waving back. A few moments later there were two recognizable 'Fwoosh' sounds, as Robin's door opened and closed behind him, Raven's door doing the same right after it.

"I should go catch some Z's, too," Cyborg said with a small yawn. "All that chasin' after you was pretty annoying, BB," He snickered lightly, walking off before Beast Boy could think of a retort.

That left Beast Boy feeling pretty frazzled, and he crossed his arms over his chest to pout at the robotic Titan's back. "Stupid Cyborg always having to have the last stupid shot because he's so stu-"

"Are you truly alright, Beast Boy?"

"Huh?" Beast Boy turned a bit to look into Starfire's eyes. She was giving him an uncomfortably worried-filled glance, and he backed up slightly out of instinct. Why's she starin' at me like that...? ...Or does she always, but I never really bothered to notice before...? Aw, man. Beast Boy's thoughts were cut off by the sounds of Cyborg's door opening and closing behind him. "Uh, of course, Star! I mean, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, after the battle with the Trigon, you have had the Querchok eyes."

"...The what?" By now, Beast Boy was more than accustomed to Starfire's Tamaranian terms, but he could have sworn he'd never heard THAT one before.

"The Querchok is a creature on my planet whose eyes are always filled with sadness and despair, despite its mouth always being up-turned, like a smile. When someone's eyes are filled with the same sadness, though a smile is on the face, that is the term we use on Tammaran," Starfire shrugged innocently, as though she assumed Beast Boy would have known this.

Beast Boy felt his eye twitch, feeling caught. Man, Starfire's a lot sharper than any of us give her credit for... "Really, Star, I'm fine," Beast Boy finally said. "I just...started to think a little more, y'know? And since I'm not used to doing that, it's makin' my head hurt," He laughed a bit, Starfire giggling as well after a brief pause. She was one of the few people who appreciated his jokes...whenever she understood them, anyway.

"Well, if that is what you say," Starfire began to float towards her room, but out of nowhere, Beast Boy's gloved hand gently caught her wrist. Starfire's eyes widened, and she turned back to look at Beast Boy's strangely anxious face. Starfire had no idea, but Beast Boy was dying to know if she was going through the same thing he was. If she was feeling the same pain he felt over Raven's loss, only over Robin's. It may have been a 'misery loves company' thing, but then again, making Starfire feel better could've let Beast Boy forget about Raven, and they could both be their old selves again.

"But...What about you? I mean, I heard Robin talking about you getting totally awesome at your Starbolts all of a sudden, and your eyes are like Kweerchak...Quarche...That thing you said's too!" Beast Boy hadn't meant to be so open about it, but he hadn't thought before blurting everything out.

He flushed darkly and let go of Starfire's wrist as suddenly as he had caught it. Beast Boy spoke up again before Starfire could even reply to his prying question. "Sorry! None of my business. Night, Star!" Beast Boy turned and ran off, feeling horribly embarrassed with what had just come over him, leaving Starfire alone in the living room before she could have even said 'goodnight' back.

Starfire stared blankly after him, but sighed once he was gone, turning towards the window and rubbing her arm lightly. "So, it is obvious that I, too, have the Querchok eyes...?" She asked her reflection, getting no response as she gently pressed her fingertips near the corner of her sad eye.

Disclaimers:

Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, Robin, Cyborg, Silkie, and pretty much everything but the plot at hand belongs to © D. C. Comics/Cartoon Network/Kids WB

9/2019 Update:

Whoo, another one down. It's weird remembering high school stuff as I read through this.

[bcbdrums]

@benjimators I'm sure you're tired of me saying this, but here's another case of 'it was so much better in my head than it is on paper.' Ah well. Let me know.

By popular demand, "part 2" and the conclusion of Things Change.  Enjoy!

---------

It was barely a moment before Drakken was up and running after her, his teddy bear forgotten.

"Wait!" he hurried into her darkened, empty room where she was pacing angrily. "Shego, what—"

"Go back to bed!" she cut him off, tossing him a furious frown as she continued wearing a path into the floorboards.

Drakken watched her in utter confusion. First she was mocking him, then she was crying, and now she was mad at him?

He fidgeted anxiously, wondering momentarily if he should check her for a moodulator, but then took a step closer. "Shego, what did you mean, not to worry about you?"

She stopped pacing and threw her head back, her face contorted in frustration.

"Rrgh! Look this isn't easy for me, so just...just shut it. I'm sorry, okay? Forget what I said about everyone hating you and just...do whatever you want!"

She never looked at him, and when she finished speaking she continued her pacing along the back wall as far away from him as possible.

Drakken was even more confused. He supposed he understood the apology for her attempted manipulation, but...

"...But, Shego. I...really do want everything they're offering. Well, most of it anyway," he said thoughtfully.

She finally stopped and leaned back on the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. He could just make out her scowling face in the dark.

"I know you want it. So, go for it. Go claim your prize. Congratulations," she said impatiently.

"But..." he took another step toward her, "you don't want it."

She lifted her eyes to his, and he was surprised at how angry she looked. "Yes. Doy. I know. You know. We both know!"

He blinked. "I don't understa—"

"Doc, did it ever occur to you that you don't have to include me in your future plans?"

He blinked again. She groaned and rolled her eyes. "It doesn't have to involve me."

He cocked his head and blinked twice more.

She hissed through her teeth and stepped right up in front of him. "You. Me. Not working together anymore. No more contract. You go be the world's golden boy, and I'll keep tearing things apart."

His jaw hung open as he stared at her, lost for words. It had never occurred to him that they wouldn't...

"So...give me my beach chair and I'll get out of your hair," she said, moving around him and back into the main room.

He turned and hurried after her. "But Shego—"

"It's fine, Doc! I told you not to worry about me. I was taking care of myself long before you ever showed up."

He watched as she picked up her beach chair and dumped his clothes off of it and onto the futon. She started toward the door.

He ran after her. "Shego—"

"Get over it, Doc! Things change. That's life."

"But Shego—"

"What?" she snarled, raising a glowing fist beneath his chin.

"You don't have to— I mean, y-you can stay and I'll... I mean, you can have the lair."

She dropped her hand, the green glow vanishing. "Huh?"

"Or another one if you want, or...or all the lairs. I...guess I won't need them, anymore..." he finished quietly as a deep weight settled into the pit of his stomach. It seemed that he had made his decision.

Shego blinked at him, her anger fading. "That's...real generous of you, Doc."

He realized he was standing only inches away from her and took a hurried step back.

"Ah...so...which ones...do you want?"

A smirk slowly settled on her features. "Can't really argue with Tahiti."

---------

Three days later, Drakken stood on stage at his would-be alma mater to receive an honorary doctorate and to present about his mutant plant formula. It was awkward, to say the least. The last time he'd "presented" anything to anyone besides Shego and his henchmen had been when he'd been a student, and those times hadn't gone very well either.

It was only the presence of the Possible family in the front row that gave him any confidence. The surprisingly supportive smiles of his former teen foe and her two parents let him know that it wasn't a complete disaster.

Later in his hotel room, he was actually relieved when the knock at the door turned out to be Kimberly Ann.

"What...um, can I do for you?" he asked nervously, turning away after opening the door and resuming his careful packing of his new degree certificate.

Kim stayed in the open doorway, her hands folded in front of her and an honest smile on her face.

"I just wanted to let you know that you did great out there, and well... I'm glad you decided to stay on the good side."

"Heh heh. Thanks," Drakken said, glancing at her shyly.

Kim took one small step inside and began glancing around. "So where's Shego?"

Drakken's face fell. "Oh, she...I suppose she's still at the lair."

"At the lair?"

"Or she may have gone on vacation. She did that a lot."

Kim shook her head in confusion. "I don't get it. Why would she be on vacation?"

Drakken snapped his suitcase closed and looked at the itinerary that was taped to the outside of it. His flight to Canada left in three hours. Plenty of time to get to the airport.

"I'm actually not sure why she went on vacation so much," he answered honestly.

"But...why isn't she here?" Kim continued.

Drakken felt a weight deep in his stomach like the one he felt every time he'd thought of her in the past three days. Which was every five minutes or so. "Oh, she isn't working with me anymore. We've gone our separate ways."

Kim's eyes widened. "What?"

"She didn't want to be on the good side."

Kim shook her head again. "Wait, time out. So she's still going to try to take over the world?"

Drakken shrugged. "I suppose. Although random mayhem always seemed more her style..."

"I don't get it," Kim said, shaking her head. "I thought you two were, you know..." she gestured idly with one hand.

Drakken blinked at her in confusion. "What?"

Kim looked oddly uncertain. "What I mean is...you two always seemed so tight. Even when you weren't in synch, you were. I...guess I thought you would always be partners."

The weight felt even heavier in Drakken's stomach, and he sat down on the hotel room bed, thinking about the morning he'd left only three days prior. She'd jokingly promised not to destroy any of his inventions for at least six months, and he'd not-so-jokingly promised not to turn her in. She'd been annoyed by his seriousness and sent a green blast after the hover car, hastening his departure.

"Drakken?"

He realized he had zoned out, and Kim was looking at him uncertainly.

"S-sorry," he said, looking down at his itinerary again. Time for lunch was penciled in in red right after the lecture... He groaned and threw his head back. He was already messing things up!

"What's wrong?"

"Nngh, I'm off schedule!"

Kim came fully into the room and peered down at his itinerary. "Shego made that for you, didn't she."

Drakken glanced away, suddenly suspicious. "So what if she did?"

Kim took a step back. "See, that's what I mean. It's weird that you two aren't together."

Drakken pushed off the bed and picked up his suitcase, heading for the door. "Well sometimes things change," he said impatiently.

He was halfway down the hall when Kim's voice stopped him.

"Maybe they shouldn't."

He turned and looked back to where she stood with one hand on the door frame, her form silhouetted by the sunlight in the room behind her. He slowly started back toward her.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"I mean..." she ran her fingers through her hair, "Gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this. I mean, maybe you should...stay in villainy."

Drakken blinked twice and shook his head, "I'm sorry, I'm not following you."

"I mean..." She looked sad. "You're not really going to be happy doing this, so why waste time?"

He set his suitcase down and crossed his arms. "I'm here because this will make me happy. That's the point."

"Yeah, and I get that..." Kim said, looking away. "But I'm getting ready to leave for college, and I know how tough it's going to be, to be away from Ron for so long..."

"What does the buffoon— I mean, eh...Stoppable...have to do with anything?"

Kim rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair again before hugging herself. "This is so awkweird... I just mean...you're not really going to be happy being away from Shego. Especially forever."

Drakken felt the weight in his stomach agreeing with her, but he ignored it. "Of course I am. I'm getting everything I've ever wanted."

"Everything?" Kim asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly he felt uneasy about his answer. Was there something missing? He fought down the unease and pressed forward. "Yes, everything. Even Shego knows that. She encouraged me to do it."

Kim's eyes widened, and for reasons unknown the blue scientist felt even more uneasy.

"Oh, Drakken..." Kim said sadly.

Drakken began fidgeting. "...What?"

"It is just like me and Ron. Don't you understand that she's in love with you?"

The world seemed to stop. Kimberly Ann's words echoed in his mind until they were a relentless flood, drowning out the rest of his senses.

Shego...loved him?

"It's just like...when Ron told me he was okay with things changing, and that he didn't want to hold me back. And...of course we can't know exactly what's going to happen in the future. But I do know that Ron Stoppable is a non-negotiable. And so whatever does happen, ultimately he's going to have to fit into the puzzle, and as the biggest piece too. I can't have it any other way."

Drakken heard her, but he was lost in his memories of everything that had happened since the ceremony at the U.N. Shego's uncharacteristic silence through all of the interviews. Her lack of mocking. Her cruel manipulation with the photo album. Her tears. And her insistence that he leave villainy behind and pursue his dreams.

His heart was pounding. Could it be true?

He dropped to his knees and opened the suitcase, tossing aside his doctoral certificate along with various articles of clothing as he searched for something.

"Drakken? What are you looking for?"

"Aha!" he cried, holding up his prize in delight.

"A tracking device? Let me guess...you have Shego chipped? Does she know about this?"

"She's still there!" he cried as the tell-tale blip appeared on the screen in the middle of the Pacific. He threw everything haphazardly back into the suitcase and slammed it shut, barely getting it latched before he grabbed it and ran down the hall.

"Hey, Drakken?"

He stopped short at the corner and looked back, suddenly remembering Kim Possible was there.

"Good luck," the teen said with a smile.

A moment passed, and he returned her warm gaze. Then he rushed away with one purpose in mind. He finally knew what would make him happy.

---------

The sun had set by the time he reached Tahiti, and as he slowed the hovercraft above the lair he saw it was in darkness. The tracking device still showed her there, so either she was asleep or the electricity was still out.

After parking he leapt down onto the balcony and rushed through the door. He almost ran straight into Shego, who stood ready to attack whoever was intruding.

"Dr. D.? What are you doing here?"

He froze as he realized he hadn't thought this far ahead.

"I...changed my mind. I still want to be a villain after all."

Shego's eyes narrowed on him in disbelief. "What!?"

He fidgeted and smiled innocently. "Hmm," he nodded.

Shego...looked furious. "Ugh!" she cried in disgust, turning on her heel and heading toward her room.

Drakken moved to follow but then stopped as he took in his surroundings. Everything was exactly as it had been when he left, right down to his teddy bear and mussed blanket laying on his futon.

He hurried after her and pausing in the doorway found that her room was still empty. She was leaning up against one of the corners, her arms crossed and her head down.

"What...have you been doing since I left?" he asked cautiously.

She glared at him. "Thinking. But no, ser-seriously, Doc. What are you doing back here? You're supposed to be off...getting hero-worshipped or something."

He took a deep breath and entered the room. Each step that brought him closer to her increased the anxiety on her face. He stopped his approach about six feet away from her.

"It...wasn't what I really wanted," he said, shaking his head.

She gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me! After all the— Nnn, no, no, we already went over this," in three quick steps she was in front of him, her hands on his shoulders turning him around and pushing him toward the door, "you wanted the world to recognize you for your genius, and now they do. So just...get over what ever stupid idea is in your head now and—"

"No!" he shoved his hands out and braced himself against the door frame.

He turned around, and she looked genuinely shocked.

"No?"

He took a few quick breaths. "No. I mean...you're right, I thought I knew what I wanted..." he said, rolling his eyes nervously and raking his fingers through his hair. He started pacing a small circle as he spoke. "But then I couldn't stop thinking about— And...then Kim Possible said—"

"Kim Possible?" Shego crossed her arms. "What does she have to do with this?"

Drakken looked at her. Gone was her bizarre behavior of days past. From head to toe, she looked ever the impatient, volatile sidekick who had been in his employ for the past several years.

And he started second-guessing himself.

"Well she— And the future—" he fell on one knee in front of her, pulling at his hair with both hands now. "And the itinerary! And Stoppable not holding her back, and you telling me to do it, and—"

"You know when you kneel like that, you look like you're about to propose marriage," she said with a smirk.

"—and non-negotiables, and— What? No, no, no no no no!" he said, standing up in a hurry and waving his hands in panic.

Shego cackled, and his panic soon gave way to frustration.

"Ngh. Grh! Nyaaaaah!"

A long string of incoherent syllables flew from his lips while she stared on in amusement, until finally he turned with an exasperated sigh and slammed his forehead against the wooden wall, his fists soon following suit.

His breaths were heavy as he stood un-moving with his eyes closed, trying to process everything. Shego was acting just like her old self.

Kim Possible must have been wrong.

"...Dr. D.?"

"...Ow."

He heard Shego sigh. "Look Doc, I don't know what brought you back here, but it can't be worth this much aggravation. So, tell you what—get yourself a good night's sleep and then in the morning you can go back to all your genius big-shots. Aren't you supposed to be in Canada right now?"

His eyes opened. That weight was back in the pit of his stomach. No, he knew exactly what he wanted now.

He turned around just as she set her hands on his shoulders to push him through the door again. Her face was set in determination.

"No!" he cried.

"I'm trying to be nice, here," she growled out, shoving him fiercely.

He grabbed onto the door frame again to block her from pushing him out. With a scowl she grabbed his wrists and yanked them down. Suddenly, his vine shot out from under his collar and spiraled around them before either knew what was happening.

Drakken coughed as the wind was knocked out of him and took a moment to catch his breath. When he did he noticed that he and Shego were pinned front to front, and her irritation was quickly turning into rage.

"Not this again!" she shouted, and he covered his ears. "Tell your stupid vine to let go!"

"F-flower, let us go!" he commanded, though his voice was shaking.

The response from the mutation was to curl even tighter, restricting their movement. They both gasped as they lost their footing, stumbling until Drakken's back was up against the wall. He looked down at her nervously, his hands raised in innocence while hers were in fists on her hips, her expression radiating disgust.

"Rrrghh!" she growled, igniting her hands and setting them against the vines.

Sudden, searing pain made Drakken see white. He realized he must have screamed because of the additional pain in his ears. But then as quickly as it started, the burning sensation began to diminish.

His legs shook beneath him and he pressed his back and hands against the wall to help keep himself upright as he caught his breath. A moment later he opened his eyes and saw Shego's horrified face. He swallowed nervously and glanced down to the scorch marks on the vines that still tightly held them together.

So it was that kind of mutation. Great, just great...

"...Are you okay?" Shego asked. Her voice was tense, and full of remorse.

"I think so," he said breathlessly.

The fear receded from her eyes. "What's with your stupid vines?" she said shakily.

Drakken tried to ignore the throbbing in his neck. "Ngh, I don't know! They have a mind of their own."

Shego sighed and crossed her arms, arching her back away from him. As he looked down at her, her expression was annoyed, but gradually becoming thoughtful.

"What's going on, Dr. D.?"

He blinked down at her. She was waiting for his answer.

"You're...non-negotiable."

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Ngh, I mean... Being recognized by the world isn't the complete puzzle."

She frowned at him pointedly. "You're not making sense."

His instinct was to pace, or pull his hair, but with the vines trapping them he found all he could do was lift his hands and gesticulate. That felt odd to do with Shego so close in front of him, so he kept his hands merely hovering next to his sides.

"It might make me happy for awhile, but it...won't last."

She shook her head. "You know, you're unbelievable. And I'm not non-negotiable. Things change, Doc."

He heard a slight catch in her voice, and he focused all his attention on her eyes. She still looked irritated and impatient, but that strange bit of sadness from days ago was back.

"I don't want them to change!" he bit back at her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Look. If this is some stupid nonsense about you wanting me around as some sort of P.A., you can hire somebody else. And if you're just afraid of things being different—"

"N-no," he shook his head quickly. "Nothing like that."

She blinked at him. Suddenly she began to look anxious. "And...if this is about me not getting my say in this, I'll go out and cause some newsworthy destruction tomorrow if it will make you feel better."

He swallowed anxiously, letting his eyes answer for him.

She crossed her arms. "Then what?"

He felt blood beginning its journey upward to flush his cheeks. She looked even more nervous.

"We're both getting everything we want," she protested against his silence. "I'm happy, you're happy. You saved the world, Doc. It's better than being an evil dictator, because everyone's actually happy to have you. They literally owe you their lives. Countries globally are begging you to visit so they can honor you. The entire world is yours, Doc. I don't see what your problem is. So...find a way to get your stupid vines off and just leave?"

Her voice had gotten more and more tense as she spoke, her throat finally constricting on her final words. There was a significant amount of moisture in her eyes, which she hid by closing them tightly.

"Shego..." he protested softly.

She responded by slamming her fists into the wall on either side of his head, her face twisted in...some kind of emotion.

Just then the vines tightened again and she stumbled as they both gasped for breath, her chest colliding with his as her forearms dropped to rest on his shoulders.

She looked up at him in shock, and he was surprised to see the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks.

He bit his lip. "You're not happy with...how things are, any more than I am."

She looked away in frustration, tears coming back to her eyes. "So what if I'm not? It's not like you can do anything about it. But I'm happy for you, so just...just go, rule the world. You don't have to do anything for me. I'll be fine, Dr. D."

His heart was pounding. He took a deep breath and pursed his lips in determination. "What if I could?"

She suddenly tensed and gave him a sidelong glance. "What?"

"What if I could...do something about it?"

Her eyes widened, a myriad of emotions wildly passing through them as she stared at him. She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth tightly together, blinking away her tears.

"You can't," she hissed out defiantly.

He glanced briefly at the scorch marks on the vines pinning them tightly together. He realized then that he could feel her heart beating in time with his. He was fairly confident she wouldn't try to blast the vines again, considering what happened before.

He gathered his courage to speak, willing his voice to come out strong. Instead it came out in a mild squeak, but his words were still clear.

"I love you."

She gasped and stared up at him, her eyes betraying only shock. He quickly closed his own and held his breath, bracing for the ridicule that he was sure was soon in coming. But he would take it. At least he had tried.

Moments passed and he realized that there was no mocking. In fact all he could hear was her breathing, nearly matching his in its anxious pace. He cautiously opened one eye, and then the other. She was still staring at him, now with some sort of...expectancy. Her forearms became heavier on his shoulders.

He blinked in uncertainty. Why was her face so close to his? Had he remembered to say it out loud? He drew an anxious breath, about to try again, when--

"Aren't you going to kiss me now?"

His eyes widened. Her own seemed to be urging him on. He felt a sudden heat and perspiration down the back of his neck as he looked at her hesitantly.

Her expression changed as some thought suddenly struck her, and she looked up at him warily. "Don't tell me... You've never kissed anyone before?"

"Uh, heh heh..." he chuckled nervously, offering her a smile as he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh."

He was still bracing himself for disappointment, but then all his senses lit on fire when she placed her hands behind his head, pulling him toward her. She rose up on tiptoe until their faces were barely separated by breath, her body pressed warmly against him.

He watched in fascination as her eyes fell closed and then her lips gently pressed against his. Her fingers wove into his hair and pressed into his scalp, soothing his nerves even as he took in the velvety petal-soft sensation of the kiss.

After a few seconds she pulled back, looking at him with that same expectancy and now just a hint of impatience.

"Well?" she said.

His response was to let out a long, shaky sigh and to sink back against the wall, a dreamy smile settling across his face.

Now she looked annoyed. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."

He blinked down at her, not quite sure what she expected him to do. After a moment he shrugged again. "Um..."

"Oh, for the love of—" She wrapped her arms fully around his neck and this time when she pressed her lips to his, it wasn't a peck. His body felt like it was floating as she moved her lips against his, capturing his lower lip between hers. This time he responded and a gentle contest ensued between them as each tried to gain dominance over the other with the action of their lips.

His arms, which he had kept hovering by his sides, now wrapped tightly around her, pulling her into him as if he could somehow capture the essence of her and make her part of himself. Apparently he held on too tight, because she broke away and gasped for breath, resting her head on his shoulder as she did so. He loosened his grip on her and relished in the soft sensation of her hair brushing against his cheek.

After a moment she lifted her head and moved her fingers back into his hair, the fingers of one hand weaving in and out of his ponytail and twisting it around. With her lips parted she moved forward for another kiss, but was stopped by his words.

"Shego," he panted, and she looked up at him. "I don't need the world..." he said, shaking his head definitively, "as long as I have you."

Her lips parted in a silent gasp, and she gazed into his eyes in wonder. Wonder gave way to a demure apprehension, and then finally to unveiled happiness. She blinked quickly to hide the tears that came to her eyes un-beckoned.

She pushed herself higher on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck again, smiling into his face while he held her tighter. Neither noticed that the vines which had entrapped them had long since vanished.

"I love you, Dr. D.," she said.