#I’ll just fallback

[babythegod]

[livvyofthelake]

13 days until chain of thorns. it’s going to fix me i’m telling you. seeing cordelia is going to be so healing you don’t even understand

[sapphicslut777]

i have never been so smacked in the face with what i could be perceived as…

i need to get better. this is not okay. i am disgusted with myself.

[minniesmutt]

♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: ORAL [F. REC] FINGERING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, OVERSTIM, PET NAMES, UNPROTECTED SEX, NIPPLE PLAY, CUM SHOT, CUM EATING/SHARING, AFTERCARE ♱ ━━━ WC: 1.9K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

     After a short nap, Y/n took to unpacking the things she had brought. It was mostly clothing and a few photos but nothing else. Maybe if she asked, one of them would take her shopping. 

     She heard the elevator ding and peeked her head out of the bedroom. Chan walked out, hands in the pockets of his slacks. Y/n stepped out of the room and met him in the hallway 

     “How are you settling it?” Chan asked as he wrapped an arm around her

     “Fine, the place is a bit bare though,” Y/n told him.

     “I’ll have one of the guys take you out shopping tomorrow. I just came by to see how you were settling in and to go over something with you.”

     “Oh?”

     “Come on,” Chan pulled her into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table he had put in for her and pulling out a stack of paper

     “What’s this?” Y/n asked skimming through the words

     “Contract. Jist of it says what you’ll be doing as a front and you will be paid for the work you help us with,” Chan stated

     “You guys are paying me but you’re also basically paying everything for me?”

     “Think of it as fallback money. If something happens to us for any reason or another, for any amount of time, you’re not left with nothing to fall back on, financially that is.”

     “How considerate.” Y/n smiled, “I’m assuming there’s another part that talks about sex.”

     “Yeah. Every one of us has our own version of this contract. But you're welcome to update anything in it to your comfort level. Most of it goes over what we are into and that every single one of us is clean.” Chan explained

     “Well, so am I, guess there really is no point in condoms,” Y/n smiled

     “Only to prevent a pregnancy.”

     “I’m on birth control. Don't worry about that.”

     Chan explained a couple more things; everyone was made aware of using the traffic light system as a safeword— tapping them twice if she was able to talk for whatever reason as a fallback—, aftercare being important to all of them no matter what, promising her safety from anyone outside of them, etc. Y/n read through the papers as she listened to him, making a few adjustments here and there, but mostly agreeing with what everyone wanted. She signed her name where needed and turned the paper back to him. Chan checked everything and made a quick message about changes to the rest of the guys. 

     “We don’t expect you to memorize anything either. And it doesn't have to be one way, you can ask us for sex too.”

     “Thanks, Chan,” Y/n smiled at him

     “No need to thank me,” Chan smiled back

     “Is there anything else I should know now that I live here?”

     “Say goodbye to your privacy,” Chan chuckled

     The two laughed for a moment before Chan got called away. Y/n saw him off before going into her living room. They had been kind enough to furnish the apartment for her so that was one thing she didn't have to worry about. She figured she’d do a little online shopping for a bit. Adding things she just thought were pretty to her cart, even if she didn't need them. She’ll find a use for them.

     She heard the elevator again and ignored it after looking up for a second, one of the guys came in to see her, something she was quickly getting used to. 

     “Whatcha doing,” Jisung asked as he joined her on the couch, laying on top of her as she was laid back against the armrest

     “Shopping,” Y/n answered as she peered down at him. 

     “For what?” He asked

     “House decorations, clothes, random shit.”

     “Doesn’t sound like fun.”

     “Well, I was bored and that’s why I started. If you have better ideas, I’m all ears.” Y/n dropped her phone on her chest and looked down at him

     “Just keep shopping,” Jisung smirked

     Y/n shrugged and picked her phone back up. Scrolling through the website she was on. Jisung pushed her shirt up a bit then pulled her leggings off her legs. Y/n lifted her hips a bit to help him as he adjusted her legs to lay over his shoulders as he came face to face with her clothed cunt. 

     Y/n peeked down at him before he started kissing down and licking the cloth of her panties. Y/n let out a small moan as he continued teasing her over the fabric. Nonetheless, she kept shopping. 

     Eventually, he removed the fabric and softly kissed her clit, licking the bud to her entrance. Y/n smiled as she peered down at him. One hand removed itself from her phone and ran her fingers through his hair, gazing back at her screen. Jisung picked up his pace after a few moments until he was eating her like a starved man. 

     It wasn’t long till the phone and shopping were forgotten. Her hands tangled in his soft locks and her legs threatened to close around his head. 

     Han hummed against her clit as she gave him a particularly harsh tug. His eyes cast up her body as flicked the little bud. “Fuck Ji,” Y/n moaned

     Jisung didn’t dare let up. Playing with her clit and entrance with his tongue. Enjoying the taste of her juices on his lips and dripping down his chin. He just gave a bit more pressure when he sucked on her clit which seemed to do it for her. Hips rutted against his mouth as he licked her clean from her orgasm. 

     “So fucking good,” He wasn’t letting up. He continued making out with her sensitive clit. Y/n closed her legs around his head as much as she could. Jisung groaned against her cunt, eyes rolling into the back of his head, just from her thighs suffocating him slightly. 

     He pushed her thighs up after a minute. Putting them to her chest as he kept going. 

     “Close,” Y/n whimpered as she grabbed the cushions. 

     “Give me ‘nother,” Ji mumbled against her clit. He pushed one leg over the back of the couch to free up a hand. 

     Soon he was pushing two fingers into her and matching his pace to the rate he was eating her out

     “Fuck!” Y/n cried as her second orgasm hit her. 

     Ji kept going through her high. Fingers pumping in and out of her as he pulled his hips from her clit and sat up on his knees. “One more doll. Give one more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” Jisung begged as he pulled her other leg over his shoulder and kissed her ankle 

     “Need your cock,” Y/n whined, legs slightly shaking

     “One more baby and I'll give it to ya’.” a third finger pushed into her

     “Too much,” Y/n whined as she grabbed his wrist 

     “Color?”

     “Green!” Y/n called as his fingers curled into just the right spot 

     “You can take it, doll,” Ji smiled 

     He pushed forward till he had her coming on his fingers. Her body convulsed under him as he pulled his fingers out, watching her juices flow out of her and soak the cushions. 

     “Good job doll,” Jisung smiled as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. 

     He gave her a moment to come down and rest. He took off his belt, setting it on the coffee table. 

     “Where the fuck did you learn to eat pussy that good?” Y/n asked after her mind out of its haze a bit more

     “Now why would I tell you?” He smirked as he leaned over her.

     “Secrets are hot. You know what's hotter?”

     “What?”

     “Your dick in me.”

     Jisung didn’t waste another second pulling ever fully down onto the couch and unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard dick out, far too eager to actually take his pants off. Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness and worked on unbuttoning his top and pushing it off him as he pumped his cock. He took his hand off his cock to take the white shirt off his body. Her hand replaced his on his cock, pumping him and lining the tip up at her entrance.

     Jisung tossed the fabric to the ground before grabbing her hips and pushing into her. Both moaned as they got quickly used to the feeling. Jisung pushed his pants and boxers down more as he let her adjust to him. 

     “Fuck, move Ji,” Y/n whined 

     Jisung pushed her t-shirt up over her breast and moved her legs around his waist. He laid his hand on the armrest above her head. He pulled out slowly and thrusted back in quickly. His eyes glanced back and forth from her tits bouncing with his thrusts to her cunt swallowing him. 

     Y/n was a mess of moans and whines from him going down on her and making her come three times. Her walls were already clenching around him. 

     “Fucking warm,” Jisung groaned as his hips snapped into her. 

     Y/n tightened her legs around his waist. One of his hands fell from the armrest to lay next to her body. He lowered himself a bit to kiss between her breasts then sucked on the skin. Y/n ran her hands through his hair as his lips latched onto her nipple. Y/n gripped his hair tighter, clenching it around him. 

     “Keep clenching around me doll and I’m gonna blow,” his words were muffled against her boob, shifting his ministrations over to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment he gave the other

     “Give…me, please.” Y/n whined. Her legs hiked up higher on his waist as she got closer to her next high.

     “Got you all dumb on my cock,” Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

     His tip hit right up against her g-spot. She pulled at his hair as her orgasm hit her again. The man above her pulled away from her nipples and gave himself a few more thrusts before pulling out; coming on her lower stomach. 

     Jisung rested his head on her chest as they both caught their breath. It took a few minutes before Jisung lowered himself down and then looked up at her. Y/n caught his gaze as he licked his cum from her skin. Y/N shivered under the touch of his tongue before he pulled away, bringing his lips back up to hers. His tongue immediately darted into her mouth. Y/n melted as his cum transferred from his tongue to hers.

     Ji pulled away after another moment of enjoying her lips. “You could’ve come inside,” Y/n told him

     “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Jisung smiled.

     He stood up from the couch and fully took his pants off. He scooped her up in his arms making her squeak in surprise. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he made his way to her bathroom. 

     Jisung sat her down before giving her a forehead kiss. He started a warm bath for the both of them before walking out of the room and grabbing their clothes. Y/n took care of herself by the time he came back and checked the water. 

     “How are you feeling,” Jisung asked as he helped her into the water after he got in.

     “Tired,” Y/n sighed, leaning back against him.

     Jisung wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her shoulder, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.” 

     “Thank you, Ji.”

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[shinelikethunder]

THANK YLU SO MUCH OH MY WORD????? I actually feel like I understand all of this now… thank you for going through it so thoroughly, that’s so nice of you oh my gosh🥺

Also yeah Firefox rules— but… ahsjshdh again, weird question, any particular extension you’d recommend (other than uBlock origin)? I’ve seen people say you should keep extensions to a minimum as to not make your browser fingerprint super unique or something? But blocking cookies does sound cool, and I also didn’t know you could do that w/ extensions? I’ll leave you alone now I promise😭

you're welcome! i can't believe i've become one of the obnoxious Linux evangelists, but much like Tumblr, it's become the least-bad OS left standing just by continuing to get minor quality-of-life improvements while its competitors race to make themselves annoying to the point of unusability.

so the thing about browser fingerprinting is 1. it's less common than abuse of tracking cookies, and exists partially as a fallback to keep tracking you even when you're blocking the easier methods, 2. Firefox now does its best to block it, 3. if you're using Firefox on a desktop Linux computer, that is probably much more identifying in and of itself than any given combination of popular extensions. i've pretty much embraced privacy nihilism on that particular issue.

you still want to be choosy about your add-ons, though, because they can see and manipulate pretty much everything you do in your browser, and malicious ones can really fuck your shit up. uBlock Origin is maybe the most trusted adblocker out there, Multi-Account Container tabs is developed by Mozilla itself, and Privacy Badger is an EFF project, so i have no qualms recommending any of them. personally i run a few more on top of that: Decentraleyes and ClearURLs to mop up a couple more kinds of tracking crud; separate extensions to force all Amazon/Facebook/etc browsing to be quarantined in dedicated containers; a password manager; and just for the sake of fun & minor website tinkering, Tampermonkey and XKit Rewritten. your mileage may vary on the risks vs. benefits; useful and popular browser add-ons have been taken over in the past by bad actors.

i'm definitely not claiming this add-on stack is a cure-all for anything, because there's no way to fully escape the data parasites while still existing in society. it does, however, noticeably increase my level of peace and fucking quiet on the interweb, as well as affording me the petty satisfaction of making their jobs more difficult.

[zepskies]

How would Beau comfort reader who’s gotten home from work and is feeling overwhelmed and sooky? I’m in need of comfort my the cutie patootie pls and thank you beloved 🫶🥺

Hello, my love!

I know it's been a while since you requested this @chernayawidow, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling down. It’s my pleasure to fulfill this prompt for you! 😘💞

AN: This is sort of a sequel to “Didn’t Mean to Stay,” but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word Count: 3,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, lots of hurt/comfort, fluff, and feels.

Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need.

You heaved a sigh while climbing up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. Why the hell you decided to live on the second floor, you had no idea…

Okay, mainly for the safety aspect of being a single woman living alone, but at least for the past year, you hadn’t been all that single (or alone, for that matter).

Seeing Beau’s truck in the parking lot reminded you that your boyfriend was already home from work. It was rare that you got here after him, but you perked up a little.

I hope he got something for dinner. Your stomach began to rumble at even the first stray thought of food. After the ridiculous day you’d had, you’d happily eat your weight in just about anything.

A hearty sandwich, Chinese lo mien, a whopping burger with fries…hell, you’d eat a whole damn bag of pizza rolls. As long as it was hot and you didn’t have to cook it.

Once you managed to insert your key and unlock the apartment, immediately there was too much sound coming from the living room. Guns and blasting and whoops and hollers. It all grated on your ears and your frayed psyche.

You grimaced as you locked the door behind you.

“Are we being invaded?!” you called.

Mercifully, the cacophony ceased as you walked into the living room and found your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. On the TV was an old western classic, The Magnificent Seven.

Typical, you thought. Your Texan cowboy loved his westerns.

“Sorry. Too loud?” he asked.

“Just a touch,” you replied.

“Well, I’m glad you're home.” Beau nodded at the TV. “Was gonna ask you what your Netflix password is.”

“What, don’t tell me you settled for 1960s cowboys?” you quipped.  

You dumped your purse on the coffee table and sunk onto the couch next to him. Beau slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer. You obliged by shucking off your shoes and resting against him, with your head on his shoulder. You let out a long sigh.

“Well, that was my fallback plan. See, damn Netflix booted me out and I’m really gearing up for that new season of Cake or Cake,” Beau said, with a somewhat childish smile that almost succeeded in tugging your lips upwards as well. Your brows drew together.

“Cake or…oh my God. You mean Is It Cake?” you asked. You nearly slapped yourself with your own hand as it came up to cover your eyes. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“Ah, yeah. That one.” Beau grinned.

“I just can’t figure out how I keep guessing so wrong," he continued. "It looks like a hat. It should be a hat. How the hell is it actually cake? These guys are just so damn talented, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I’ve eaten my fair share of quality cake, but I ain’t never eaten a hat cake…though that does sound good to me, now that I think about it. Heh, I could finally say, ‘if that ain’t real, I’ll eat my own hat.’ And I’d actually be able to take a bite.”

Now, normally you found boyfriend’s diatribes incredibly endearing. Beau was a talker, and you appreciated having him with you at social gatherings. Not only was he great at connecting with people (something you very much admired), but the man was damn good at filling a silence.

Today, however, he was feeding the headache pulsing behind your eyes. You loved him dearly. Yet you were tempted to dig your nails into your own arm just to stop yourself from snapping at him to please, stop talking.

“Speakin’ of food, that reminds me. My stomach’s damn near ready to eat itself.” He eyed you. “What’s for dinner, baby?”

Your hand slid from your face and slapped onto your leg. Your head slowly turned to him.

“I don’t know, Beau. What’d you cook?” you said tartly.

It was an effort, considering how comfortable you were while tucked against him, but you moved his arm off your hip and lifted your heavy-feeling body off the couch. Shaking your head, you trudged a path over to your room.

You didn’t see it, but Beau frowned. Though you heard him follow after you. You did your best to go about your business, unbuttoning your pants and starting on your blouse. You were just so damn tired, and probably still anxious. Even your hands were trembling and fumbling with the buttons.

Still, you sensed him coming closer, saw his sock-covered feet out of the corner of your eye. The rest of him was comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a wool sweater you bought for him last month; he was getting better, but still acclimating to Montana winters.

“You’ve been here all this time,” you grumbled. “You see how late I’m coming in, and you don’t think, hey, my girl’s gonna be tired. Why don’t I figure out how to work the stove so she doesn’t have to worry about feeding my six-foot-ass, bottomless pit—”

Beau’s hands stilled yours, and he took over unbuttoning your blouse to help you. He bent his head enough to catch your eyes, smiling a little at your grumpy face.

“All right, all right. I see your point,” he said. “You had a bitch of day, huh?”

“The longest of my damn life,” you said. The stress of each moment played behind your eyes. So much that they stung with unshed tears when you raised your gaze to meet his.

Beau’s brows furrowed in sympathy. He paused in what he was doing to stroke your cheek and press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And I wanna hear about it, but first, you go take a nice long shower,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Food,” you said petulantly. But he was being too sweet for you to be all that annoyed with him. A reluctant smile was growing across your lips. Beau smirked.

“You in the mood for Italian? Chinese? Maybe feeling a little adventurous and wanna try that Greek place down the street?” he suggested. “I think they deliver.”

By now he’d worked your blouse open. His hands were finding their way along the curve of your waist, smoothly across your skin, then meeting at the small of your back. He pressed the heel of one hand there, where he knew your shitty desk chair often made you ache.

You gripped his strong arms for support and leaned into him. You let out a sigh and rested your cheek against his chest, where he dropped another kiss on the top of your head.

“Greek sounds good, actually,” you confessed.

“Mmm, hell yeah. You want chicken, steak, or lamb on your gyro?” he asked. You felt the reverberation of his hum, and it was weirdly soothing. Though his question reminded you of one of your favorite movies that you too often quoted to him: My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

“What you mean he don’t eat no meat?” you said with a giggle. Beau’s lips moved to your forehead, and you felt the shape of his smile.

“It’s okay, I make lamb,” you both said together.

He chuckled and held you a bit tighter, secure and comforting. “All right. Lamb it is…you think they got cake on the menu?”

When you laughed, it was muffled by his sweater.

After a hot shower, good food, and three episodes of Is It Cake later, you were falling asleep on your corner of the couch.

All through dinner, Beau had listened to you vent about your day. About the problems your coworkers had hoisted on you to solve in the midst of a massive project you were already tackling. How your boss then blamed you for not coming to her first before you overloaded yourself, and how you’d very seriously contemplated going to HR before you figured just dealing with it would cause you less grief in the end.

Your boyfriend listened and gave his two cents, both supportive and fair. That was another thing you liked about him; he was always fair.

Now, he roused you out of your drowsy state when his arms wrapped around your frame and lifted you up.

You whined in protest. “Whaaat? Don’t move me.”

“Nope, you’re goin’ to bed,” he said, in his sheriff’s voice that boded no argument. You grumbled, but you still snuggled closer to his chest and pressed your sleepy face into his neck.

Smirking, he walked you into the bedroom and laid you down on your side of the bed. He came to your place often enough that he now had his own side, complete with his own nightstand and a couple of drawers of your dresser, even a bit of closet space.

You really should’ve just told him to move the hell in already, but you weren’t like Beau. He was a man of action. He processed things quickly and made decisions just as fast. His job demanded him to be that way.

You tended to drag your feet. You also tended to worry, and weigh pros and cons, and you were cautious by nature. Even dating this man had been a slow process, for which he’d been very patient with you. (And you with him, especially in the beginning as he learned to open up to you.)

The evidence was plain to see, as he raised the blankets and helped you roll underneath them. You just took him by surprise when you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down with you.

“Hey!” he laughed. He had to brace himself against the mattress before he crushed you. His knees fell on either side of your hips while your arms twined around his neck.

“You’re a wily one, even half-asleep,” he remarked. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his soft brown hair.

“Like a rattlesnake in the tall grass,” you teased. In fairness, the two of you had gotten into watching David Attenborough's nature documentaries.

Beau’s brows raised, his smile deepening.  

“Oh yeah? Better not mess around then,” he chuckled. “I might just get bit.”  

You snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You leaned up until your lips were nearly brushing his. Beau’s eyes lowered to your face, taking in all the things that felt more like home than his little trailer near the woods.

Just before you would’ve closed the small breadth of distance, you veered away from his mouth and went for his neck instead. He even flinched at the tease of your teeth playfully biting him.

"You little vixen!" He laughed deeply as he unwound your arms from his neck. He pinned you down to the bed and pressed his hips down into yours over the sheets. But it was his claiming lips that stopped you from fighting back.

Your shoulders trembled with giggles that he swallowed up, kiss after kiss. Your eyes closed as he dragged the sheets down away from your body. His hands caressed you through your thin tank top, brushing over a hardened nipple with the back of his hand, then squeezing your breast through the fabric.

You sighed into his mouth. “I know I kind of started this, but I’m really tired, baby…”

“Who says you gotta do anything?” rumbled his rich voice.

A tremor of heat ran through you. Even with your eyes closed, your exhausted body responded to his touch. His lips drew a hot, wet path down your neck, all while his hands did sinfully good things, sliding under your tank top and gliding against your skin. You let him take it all the way off, followed by your pajama pants and cotton panties, though he paused to squeeze your ass in appreciation.

“Someone’s been doing squats,” he noted, grinning down at you.

“Nah, just an extra slice of that honey cake,” you retorted. Apparently, the Greeks liked honey on everything.

Beau’s head tilted. “Huh. Well, I do like me some cake.”

You laughed, then jolted with a yelp when he slapped a bare cheek.

But you couldn’t just lay idle when he started on his own clothes. You sat up and helped him raise the sweater up and over his shoulders, but he stopped you.

“I mean it. You just lie back and relax,” he said, giving you a charming grin. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; he was just too damn good to you.

While he finished taking off the sweater, your hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. You caressed the hardening length of him, earning a hiss and a groan from him.

“Can’t I just…” you tried.

With difficulty, Beau grabbed your wrist. He raised a brow at you and guided you back down.

“For once, I’m ‘a need you to listen to me,” he said, kissing your cheek and then the other side of your neck.

You breathed a laugh, but it caught on a moan as his fingers brushed through your wet folds. He made a sound of approval. And those nimble fingers gathered some of your wetness and began circling slowly over your clit.

You sucked in a breath and arched against him. You even whimpered a little as his free hand wound through your hair, giving him further access to your neck. He hummed against your skin and grazed his teeth under your ear.

“I gotcha, baby. Whenever you need it,” he said, low and steady. You gripped his arms for dear life as two of his fingers slipped deep inside you. You panted into his neck, rocked your hips mostly in time with his fingers as they twisted and pulsed around your tightening walls. His thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit.

“Please,” you whispered into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. “Want you inside me.”

“We’re gettin’ there,” Beau nodded. He was breathing harder too, just from anticipation. The sounds you were making, the way you were squeezing his hand from the inside had him painfully hard.

“Now,” you insisted. Your hands moved to grip his hair, and your lips met his in a devouring kiss.

Beau matched your passion with closed eyes and furrowed brows. He’d had a plan for you at the start of this, but what kind of man would he be if he didn’t abide by your wishes?

So he withdrew his fingers from your slick pussy, even though you uttered a shuddering breath. It took everything you had within you to remain still and resting against the pillows as you caught your breath. You wanted to wrestle down his sweatpants yourself and show your boyfriend how appreciative you could be.

But you also appreciated what he was trying to do. You watched him with tired, but still hungry eyes as he kicked off the pants and the boxer briefs and returned to you, bracing a forearm above your head after he spread your legs and raised up your knees.

He lowered himself between the warm cradle of your thighs and kissed down your chest, licked between the valley of your breasts.

You arched up again when his tongue found your nipple, swirling around it, and finally taking it between his teeth. His hips rolled against yours, making his cock press against your core teasingly.

“Beau, for the love of God,” you moaned.

He chuckled. “Maybe you oughta learn how to be patient.”

You grabbed his bearded face between both hands and raised him up to you. He noted your challenging brow, but also your smile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tease the rattlesnake,” you replied.

Beau laughed and ducked his forehead against yours. “Okay, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

He nosed at your cheek, angling for a kiss. You tipped your head back and welcomed his lips, especially when his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours. His forearm was braced above your head, but his free hand left your hip to line himself up to your entrance.

Another shudder went through your body as he finally slid home inside you. The shape and feeling of his cock was familiar as it stretched your inner walls, and you caught his moan in your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed, forcing him in deeper. His eyes screwed shut as he lost focus for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the feeling of you, or the sound of your voice, or the way you trusted him, but still tried to give as much as you took.

He pulled out nearly all the way, slowly sliding back in so you’d feel every inch. You clenched on him as a tremble ran through your body.

You uttered a broken gasp of his name that spearheaded goosebumps across his skin. And his next movements were faster, though just as deep.

He followed the encouragements of your voice, especially when he shifted his hips at an angle he knew would make you writhe. His fingers stroking your already sensitive clit, in time with his last wild thrusts, had you threatening to rip out a chunk of his hair. Instead, you gasped in his ear and dug your fingers into his hips.

His own release followed yours shortly after; he could only resist you squeezing the life out of him from the inside out for so long. And you held him afterwards, even though he still had a trembling arm braced above you.

Your hands smoothed up and down his back, trailing lightly with your nails. His breath was hot, but not uncomfortable against your neck.

You felt absolutely boneless as your legs slid from his hips. He pulled out of you soon after, but your embrace kept him from moving very far. He rested on his side, and you turned towards him. You both knew you’d have to deal with the sheets and the cleanup, but not just yet.

You carded your fingers more soothingly through his hair and drew his face back to yours.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. And you didn’t just mean in this bed. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Beau’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. Your lips formed a tired smile before they pressed softly to his. “I love you.”

Beau took a moment to brush a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. He’d believed in second chances before he met you…just not for himself. Meeting you made him swear by them.

“Love you too,” he said.

And the warmth of that bone-deep knowledge was more satisfying than even the heftiest slice of cake.

AN: God, I love Beau. I miss Big Sky. 😭 But feel free to let me know what you think of this one! It's only my second time, but I really do love writing this guy. ❤️

And tell me...are you team cake 🍰 or team pie 🥧?

Big Sky Masterlist

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BA Tag List:

@deans-baby-momma @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @waters-2567

@ultrahviolentart @deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @ades106 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @beautyvaliant @beskarfilms

@syrma-sensei @tmb510 @fabimaou @mimaria420 @fromcaintodean @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @charmed-asylum @globetrotter28

[rott1ngbra1n]

First off! I wanna go ahead and drop some fun art stuff I’ve been doing as I’ve been watching Dragons Rising season 2, which I’ve been loving!

I did a version of Arin before but it wasn’t my favorite so a redo! More AlleyCat stuff and obligatory Cole, because I love him.

I do have more Ninjago Art I want to do (Still need to finish that Cole and Morro friend piece-) and I have some other fandom art I also want to do, but I’ll explain more under the cut as well as why I’ve been gone or a bit less active everywhere. This is optional you do not have to read under the cut!

TW// Transphobia

For those unaware I am a trans man, I go by a different name: both online and IRL (online for privacy’s sake), I also work as a barista due to being a college student and needing to save money for moving away from my own transphobic parents. That’s a whole other story. But at work there was a coworker of mine who was consistently transphobic towards me whenever we worked together. It had been going on since June of last year (The irony of it starting during pride month made me and my friends laugh) but it escalated after I returned from New York, so much so I had to go to management.

Myself. Management had been informed by my best friend (who also works with me) about it and was told it was “gossip”. Ok. Sure- So I informed management of the new incidents and was told I had options, the first being to have a meeting with me, the transphobe, and my manager to discuss the issues. I said no so my manager went to the DM to find another solution. To give even more context, the transphobe couldn’t even be transphobic to my face most times it was always told behind my back to my best friend.

That’s how I knew my manager talked to the transphobe one on one, cause the transphobe right after the meeting went to said best friend. Telling her “not to tell me as she didn’t want to start drama” Cool, I feel so cool. I was very mad, went back to my manager with it, had that meeting with myself, the transphobe, and manager. Where my emotions were downplayed and the transphobe said she had “never interacted with a trans person before and didn’t know what she said was wrong.” OK.

SURE.

After that we assumed it was over, my manager made an incident report, but it didn’t stop the transphobe still kept talking behind my back to others. Despite me talking respectfully of her. More context all the talking behind my back happened at work while on the clock. After a while I just went about my day, then Ethics and Compliance called. They spoke to everyone involved, including me and I relayed more about my testimony. They said they would be investigating and I assumed it would take a while, then finally. I was informed that the transphobe was in fact fired.

This whole situation, along with other personal stuff going on with me, caused so much stress. To the point I tended to fallback into habits I had thought I fixed, mainly regarding my physical health. Even at points hating myself for just existing and having been born wrong.

I’m thankfully doing so much better now and have recently gotten diagnosed with Autism, something I knew I had but didn’t fully understand for a while. I’ve been getting better existing in a world knowing the people that are my blood hate me, knowing that eventually, I will never be able to be loved by my parents or sister. I have friends and coworkers who support me and I want to support other people in this community.

With that said I’m back to making more art! I’m building a portfolio for animation and to intern next year, I also will be trying to post more animations to here when I finish them! I also will still be active in the Ninjago fandom, I’ve loved this show since it came out in 2011 y’all can pry it from my cold dead hands-

But I do want to make more original work, I want to do more Star Wars work, QSMP art and animations, and more Musical Theater art whether it be Broadway or Indie productions. I hope people enjoy what I make, especially some of my original characters as I’ve gotten to work on Cybernetic more thanks to my animation class. You’ll see more of it as we go!

Thank you if you’ve read this and thank you for supporting me!

[rubberfuckey]

summary: After a worried phone call from Wheezie, you decide to come back to Kildare. Second part!

part one

wc: 1.4k

a/n: Thank you guys so much for the positive feedback from the first part, I'm already planning on part three! Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in the next part! (: <3333

masterlist

talk to me

You have two options; run for the hills and deny even seeing him, obviously a lie, or go up and face it head-on. Who is this girl next to him? Sofia hasn’t stopped watching Rafe’s face since you walked in. She knew who you were so she knew how he must’ve felt seeing you here. You decide to go over, at least you could introduce yourself to the girl and say hi to Kelce; both fallbacks if things with Rafe get too awkward. You make your way over straight to them and watch Kelce turn to whisper something to Rafe then walk away. Damn it Kelce. 

As he walked by you, he grabbed your wrist, “Welcome home. Thank God you’re back.” 

You look at him with nothing but nervousness in your eyes, “Is it that bad?”

“I’m just really happy to see you.” he chuckles as he keeps walking far away from whatever was about to happen.

Sofia seemed to only move closer to Rafe’s side, not that he was paying her a single slither of attention anyways. With his mouth stuck open, you look down at your feet suddenly feeling every set of eyes on you. 

“Hey,” you said once you reach him. Hey? Really?

“Uh, hey?” 

“Sorry that was weird, how are you?” 

He would not break eye contact, please look away. 

“Oh, I’m great, yeah. You know how much I love Rose Cameron’s parties.” 

You snicker at his sarcasm and finally break the eye contact, looking at the girl you had conveniently forgotten was there.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You stick out your hand for her to shake.

“Sofia.” She says with a small smile.

“Rose did a great job planning all this, huh? It really looks nice in here.” Please, God, strike me down right here. 

“Yeah.” She trailed off awkwardly.

“So! How long have you two been together?” You asked with the fakest smile you could muster.

“We’re not together.” “A few months.” Rafe and Sofia answer at the same exact time. 

Your smile falters, which answer was it? You send her a soft smile before Rafe looks down at you, “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

You debated telling him that Wheezie called but you didn’t want to throw her under the bus. 

“Oh uh, my parents told me what had happened. I had the weekend free so I decided I should probably come to pay my respects.”

“Oh.” 

Silence, again.

“Have you guys seen Wheezie around anywhere? I want to go say hi.”

“Yeah, I think she’s outback with Sarah somewhere,” Sofia responds, Rafe still hasn’t looked away from you. He’s looking down at you with an intensity that makes it feel hard to breathe.

“Thank you, I’m sure I’ll see you guys around later. It was great to meet you.” You walked away as if the ground would swallow you whole if you stayed another minute. Rafe walked away from Sofia without a word. 

Of course, you had to run into Rose before even making it outside. She gasped “Y/N!”

She looks awful, wearing all black and mascara under her eyes. No one should have to go through something like this, twice nonetheless.

“Hey Rose, I’m so sorry.” You said softly as tears filled her eyes again. She shook her head, not wanting to address it.

“Everyone’s going to be so happy to see you, we miss you coming around to the house.”. You were always welcome there, they thought you were a great influence on everyone. Not to mention, you had a spotless reputation. As an older woman came up to speak to Rose, you took that as your sign to continue walking towards the door.

It doesn’t take long at all to spot her, “Wheezie!”

“Y/N! Finally, you’re here!” she said as she pulled you into a hug.

You looked over to see Sarah shocked at the sight of you.

“Hey, Sar.” 

She pulled you into a hug as soon as Wheezie let go of you and whispered in your ear, “You wouldn’t believe what happened since you left.” 

She gave you an unreadable look as she pulled away from the hug and showed you where they had sat down. 

“Did you see him?” Wheezie asked as Sarah looked for your reaction. All you could do was nod as you let out the breath you felt you had been holding since you saw him. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to come here,” Wheezie says upset with herself.

“No, I’m glad I’m here. I want to be here for you guys.” You reassured. You had half a mind to google ‘therapists near me’ sitting here, but you wouldn’t tell Wheeze that. You wanted to be strong for them. As if the universe was playing some kind of sick prank on you, you look up and see Sofia walking past. She’s beautiful, like super gorgeous. Ouch.

Sarah follows your eyes to see what has caught your attention and just shook her head. The rest of the gathering was pretty bearable. You sat with Sarah and Wheezie, while she caught you up on all the drama from her school, not letting you or Sarah get a word out. You didn’t see Rafe for the rest of the time you were there. 

_

He had left the party early, Sofia following him into Tannyhill and up the stairs, lost in his head and whispering to himself.

“Sofia, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you considered us an official thing,” he whispered, he wanted to be nice about it. She had always been nice to him. But, they really weren’t in a relationship, neither of them had ever even expressed interest in defining it as such.

“Oh we’re not, I know that,” she shrugged. Rafe felt his eyes pop out of his head, why would she say that then? Has she lost her mind? Why would she say that to Y/N of all people? “But, I wanted to see how she would react,” she added. He just look at her incredulously. 

“Look, Rafe, you’ve been very sweet, but it’s so obvious you never got over her. I could tell before she even stepped foot back in Kildare, and it was painfully obvious when you saw her there. I thought if I acted like you were with me and moved on from her it would pull a reaction out of her.” She paused, waiting for some kind of reaction but she didn’t get one so she kept talking, “And it did. Did you see her face? She was very obviously upset.” He sat there with his head in his hands. She was upset? Did she care?

“I’m gonna go, I’ll see you later.” She said, standing up from her seat. 

He looked up quickly and put his pride aside. Grabbing her wrist as she walked past, all he could do is apologize.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Rafe.” She gave him a soft smile and showed herself out of the house.

-

Sarah had pulled you away the second Wheezie had finally been distracted enough to stop talking for a moment.

“We should talk.” is all she says as she pulls you in the direction of the parking lot, saying goodbye to the faces you recognized as you walked out of the club. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere far away from all these kooks.”

“Oh right I forgot, you’re claiming that pogue life now that you have a new pogue boyfriend.” you teased, you never really cared about the kook versus pogue bullshit. 

“You will too when I catch you up to speed with everything that has happened since you’ve been gone.” 

You drive over to the southside and follow her out to a dock where the HMS Pogue was tied up. John B, Kie, JJ, Pope, and another girl you didn’t know were all sitting there talking before they noticed your arrival. 

John B stood up and pulled Sarah into a hug immediately, “How’d it go?” he asked softly.

“As good as expected, picked up a stranger on the way over here.” she sighed as she moved out of the way for everyone to look at you. You smiled and waved at the familiar faces and introduced yourself to the girl you now know as Cleo. 

“So Cleo, how long have you lived in the Banks?” you asked.

Everyone turns their heads to look around at each other. 

“Yeah, we’ll get to that, we have a lot of catching up to do,” Sarah said and took the spot next to John B.

part three

Tag List :)

@f4ll-for-you @colbysbrocks

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight 24

Ao3 Link

----

“What on Remnant is that?!” White screamed flying to the left, a giant bony palm swatting through the air next to her, the draft in its wake fighting to drag her down.

“We got to go!” A hand grabbing her shoulder, White saw Black’s desperate eyes. “He did something! This place is sinking, I don’t know where!”

“Yaah!” A silver slash cut across the Giant Skeleton’s face, leaving a path of burning black sludge and argent smoke. It rolled its head backwards facing the sky, letting out an ear-piercing scream that sent cracks up the stone walls, exploded lights, vomiting forth a condensed blast of hyper-sonic air into the sky, bringing both hands down on Red, sending a shower of rose petals across the air, as she leaped away.

It’s burning red eyes stared at the rose-petals and swung it’s arms across the hallway, destroying more of centuries old building, violently ejecting ruble in blast at them, leaving a bald semicircle in front of the half-emerged monster, still half-way sunk into the ground.

Crimson danced through the air in front of them, her barrier of metal eroded the rubbled before it could touch any of them. She pointed a spear at the giant, ruggards chunks of metal exploded toward the creatures, knocking it around, leaving small craters in its black bones. She narrowed her eyes at the sight. She waved her hand towards White and Black, her barrier harmlessly absorbing them in, as they flew out of range. “We need to deal more damage, White do you think you can freeze those cracks in the bones?”

White looked at the pock-marks slowly filling up with dark essence, the slashes made by Red were smoking and sizzling, unhealing. Lifting a hand she fired an icy blast into the cracks of the bones, the silvery essence wrapping around the icy power, as a small iceberg ripped the small slashes open further. 

“We don’t have time for this! The place is done for, it’s sinking and it’ll take this thing with it, we need to go, before we can’t go back!” 

“If we defeat it now, while it’s not fully mobile, that one less tool in His box.” Crimson fired more improvised missiles at the monster, further damaging it.

“Feel free to leave, Black.” White cast more ice at the wounds. “We’re more than capable of handling this without you.”

“You-”

“Incoming!” A voice like thunder came down the hallway, Yellow soared past them fast, nearly throwing them against the wall, a golden aura of fire surrounding her as shot into the chest of the skeleton with an obscene crash. It was knocked back hard, the monster almost seeming to gasp as it screamed thunderously.

Yellow bounced off, just as it started to claw at its chest, a smoldering crack running across its sternum.

A swarm of purple lighting bolts struck its chest, the cracks growing larger and larger by the second. “Fine! I’ll help kill it! But, if we get stuck in His realm, I withhold the right to slap you all senseless before we die!”

-----

She watched as Jaune went rocketed forward, slamming a shield into one of those things, her skin crawling as red eyes locked onto them. It was as the same bulk as he was, but taller with longer limbs ending in razor claws, yet it still went stumbling backwards. 

“Advance!” He told them the words targeted some sort of primal switch in the back of their heads, flipping it from off to on. Velvet forgot any fears she had, the trembling in her hands, or the overwhelming amount of noise her ears picked up, for a moment, everything made sense. She moved with a half-dozen other men and women around him, flowing around Jaune like water; she wondered if he even knew the power his firm words held in a time of crisis, as they surrounded the monster, stabbing at it.

Not every stab hit, but they didn’t need to, as speartips struck it’s body, the wounds built up, until it would fall. Velvet felt with each thrust the blade went a little bit deeper, the wound a bit wider, until one last piercing blow, and it split in half.

“Fallback!” It was like they had become extensions of him, Velvet realized. He hardly needed to say a word, before they understood his intent. As a body flew threw where they had been, one of those creatures had a hole in its chest, laying dead on the ground. Velvet followed the direction it had come from, and almost didn’t believe her eyes, Ren’s fists were glowing pink, locked in combat with those monsters.

Not alone, though, as Nora was at his side swinging her warhammer with reckless abandon. Her blows contained surprising strength, her hearing picking up the sound of bones breaking. 

“Advance, surround it!” Her body moved on its own, spear at the ready. Ahead Jaune fought through a small pack of those things, shield bashing one of them away from him, toward them and they advanced on a sole lanky monster.

-----

River Song felt his couch pillow vibrate, eyes still closed he felt around for his scroll. Turning it on, he read the message, it came from an unknown number.

‘R. get on the chat-room, the Museum. - K’.

River woke up immediately, K. was one of his hunting partners. They didn’t talk outside of hunts.

Opening his burner scroll, he went into the chatroom. Eyes nearly unbelieving what he was seeing. A building sinking into the ground, with rumors of a terrorist attack, or gas leaks, surrounding it.

His gut told him otherwise, so he turned on the news. That LaCroix SOB was there again, declaring the area around the museum in a state of emergency, a small, but powerful localized earthquake had hit the building, and a nearby gas-pocket was leaking into the building, trying to explain any sighting of monsters.

When asked about the sinking, for a micro-expression he seemed almost furious for a moment, before putting on a sad face. “It seems that the earthquake accelerated the growth of a sinkhole under the museum, something that we have left the public uninformed about due to its minute nature, however, we, The city of Vale, have failed you all. We may lose a vaunted piece of history today, but we can’t get back people, as they are the future, and what we should be focused on.”

“What about the people stuck in the museum?”

LaCroix's eyes seemed to glow for a moment. “I’m afraid that anyone who hasn’t managed to escape, must be dead. Being exposed to gas for that long, they have surely perished, or suffered such severe brain-damage that they will expire soon anyway. As sad as it is, we can’t not risk more lives. Doubly so, when the Museum is likely to collapse at any moment.”

“Mr. LaCroix! What kind of gas is it, anyway? We haven’t-”

“No more, questions! I am needed elsewhere to help with the emergency, good night, and to those in mourning, you have my condolences.”

River felt pain in his temple, gritting his teeth. A building in a sinkhole does not uniformly sink in! The building was uniformly falling into the ground, this wasn’t a sinkhole!

A quick look at the chatroom revealed people calling BS, others that were at the Museum today, said they didn’t feel any shaking at all, just some anxiety and lightheadedness. A couple even admitting to seeing some strange figures.

Then, someone posted a link, Javier or something, linked to a live feed. 

River’s eyes opened. It was coming from inside the Museum, apparently they had some type of back of generators in there.

-----

Red jumped to the side, a bony fist crushing stone into dust next to her, her aura protecting her from stone shrapnel. There was a warmth like sunlight behind her eyes, as she focused the energy into her gaze staring at the hand, then a feeling of a warm and clear day hit her, as the purity of the sun focused into her eyes was shot forward.

The silver-blast sent shockwaves through the air, as tons of evil inky smoky exploding out toward the evening sky, layer after layer of millenia old bone was dissolved under her silver-eyes, greatly damaging the limb, but it’s age and soakage in Grimm power was still resisting her. 

It still had nearly broken it. “Hit it, ladies!” She cried valiantly, not at all squeaking! Speeding away, as ice, metal, lightning, and Yang crashing in like a meteor destroyed it, not just the hand, but the entire right arm!

“We’re nearly there! Just a bit more damage!” Crimson cried out, but Red frowned, she felt the floor drop again, as the sky seemed to grow just a bit further away from them. Her ears twitched, as she thought she heard something, like shouts?

-----

Jaune walked ahead of the rest, head twitching at every sound, trying to figure out what was going on today. Along with, why was this all happening? He had wondered that every second since this whole mess started. He felt a shake hit the building again, he had stopped keeping  count of them. Was it related to those magical girls? Or was it something else entirely?

He hated how clueless he was.

At least he knew it was related to the Grimm in some way, though how, was the question. Were they actually Grimm? Or were they part of some family tree, or … He didn’t know, there were so many blank spots to fill.

They didn't disappear like Grimm normally did, yet they still had the same masks and biology, and they had bones that broke. Worse, when he had the misfortune to peer into one the monster's bodies, he had seen organs.

That brought two strong options to mind, and he didn’t like either of them. Both of them involve people. Looking back at his group of survivors,they were all taking today differently, some were twitchy, others were breathing hard, and all were dirty. After today, he hoped they’d forget everything, as best they could.

A shadow moved next to him, a pair of red eyes giving away his visitor, it was sad how predictably they were. Then again, they probably didn’t have good muscle memory to work with, and if they did, it wasn’t suitable for swinging around claws.

Claws scraped against his shield, not even scratching the old metal of the shield, whether that was a testament to it’s craftsmanship or something else, Jaune couldn’t tell you. He stepped into its range, sword coming down on its arm, severing it.

 It was over in seconds, it’s head went down the hall. 

Jaune didn’t have the guts to go confirm his suspicions. The building shook again, the head fading away into the darkness.

He felt another pair of eyes on him from the shadows, they weren’t red, and they didn’t feel hostile. He looked at them, down the hallway, they stared off for a moment. Until they winked at him disappearing in the small motion.

“I’m losing my damn mind.” Jaune shrugged, going to meet back with the group.

Gathering them up, they resumed their march towards the door, eliminating any monsters that got in their way. With their fast pace they reached the doors quickly, just in time to see darkness climbing up the front of the door to the halfway point.

Jaune didn’t hesitate to open the doors, revealing the ground was at the middle of the door, instead of at the, well, the ground. “Come on! Get through there before you can’t get out at all!” He shouted, voice firm and echoing.

He pointed at the edge they could grab. “Get up there and leave! You all are not wanted here!” It didn’t take much convincing to have his soldiers leave. As one after the other they pulled themselves out of this hellhole.

Nora was given a boost by Ren, who wormed his way out between the ever smaller hole out. Soon, it was just him and Velvet, in what little light that remained, she gave him a small smile. “See you on the other side?”

“Yeah.” Jaune nodded. His ears twitched, it sounded like stomping.

He knelt down, giving Velvet a boost up. The sound was getting louder. It was heavy footsteps. Velvet nearly fell as Jaune essentially threw her through the gap. He looked behind himself and wished he hadn’t.

The lights were going out behind them. Not in the sense that they were being turned off, but something was moving under the lights, and they went out. That darkness was moving towards them. Something giant moved in it, as the sound of clacking was getting closer, a gigantic all-consuming noise, and what looked like fading coals burning were getting brighter.

Gripping the edge he pulled himself up, the gap growing smaller, struggling to squeeze through the gap.

“Help him!” Someone cried. 

Hands pulled at him trying to help him through. Ren at one side and Nora at the other, he was being squeezed through an inch at the time, almost there, given just enough time.

Enough time, they did not have. Something enormous grabbed Jaune by his legs, and its power exceeded any help that they could provide. Jaune laid his against the ground, relaxing his partially out body.

“Let go! I’ll be -” Was the last thing they heard him say, as he was pulled backwards into the building. He didn’t reemerge, as they stood there waiting for him to reappear, even as the sound of enormous struggle began, only to become more muffled. Any chance of him escaping to them was gone, as they watched with heavy-hearts as the gap shrunk and shrunk until no space remained, and soon, the building was gone.

----

The Magical Girls floated victorious over the greasy black smear that used to be their opponent, small pieces of bone floating around in it. They looked at it with narrowed-eyes, dirty figures, and a general air of exhaustion.

“That's it?” Yellow asked.

“Close enough,” Black answered.

Red floated up to the ceiling, seeing it was night and nobody remained within a thousand feet of the old museum. Except for vehicles with flashing lights next to some hazard tape that went around the front of the building. “Do you think that everyone got out ok?”

Crimson looked around. “We were so busy fighting that thing, -”

White floated out the building, pointing down at the nearly sunken building. “We don’t have time to check. Not unless we want to be pulled in with it.” She paused with a sigh. “Besides, with all the Grimm running around, it’s far too late for them. Face it, anybody left in there is dead.”

There was a moment of silence, as they floated up and away. “I don’t like this.” Yellow pulsated with flame. “We could have done more, could have done better.” Watching the building as it disappeared entirely into the darkness below. Once gone, the darkness returned down into the pit, leaving only an enormous crater where a piece of history had been erased.

For once, there was no fighting among the girls.

[underestimated-heroine]

sure this has been said before and said better, but we get into dicey territory talking about romantic/sexual preferences--or "types"--a lot of the time because...well firstly, the subject is obviously intensely personal, but also because quite frequently what's happening isn't:

someone has a preference/type

they are hated for it.

but instead:

someone has a preference/type

they go around talking about it in inappropriate settings and in ways that are hurtful; badgering people and even "testing" them (ex. demanding to know if they're "bad" for not liking [x])

people are disgusted, hurt by them, wary of them...and well, yeah, maybe hate them (especially when systemic oppression plays such a significant role in influencing one's "type.")

to me the most revealing element of this is the power dynamics that are almost always at play; people only get away with it safely if they're "type"-badgering one way...and it ain't up. it reminds me of a well-spotted maxim i read about here the other day:

I’m especially interested in how people police each other’s reactions, and how the accumulation of that policing at the individual and societal level leads us to start policing our own, with disastrous results. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The “national pastime” in the USA isn’t baseball, it’s debating exactly how much other people are allowed to react to something that hurts and upsets them. There’s almost a formula in play, where, the more power I have (or assume I have) relative to you, the more I expect you to keep your reactions to the things I do to you to a decorous mumble that I can safely ignore without having to change anything about myself (but also, the louder I will yell about how “dramatic” and “over-sensitive” you are). 

women can tell you they absolutely don't safely get away with saying they prefer certain things in men. no matter how carefully or how long they avoid hurting anyone, giving the truth demanded of them will very likely lead to anger, manipulation tactics, and quite possibly abuse and violence.

trans women not being considered "allowed" to be "picky" is a major vehicle of transmisogynistic abuse. this is how and why so many trans women are preyed on by violent men. "they're just grateful for anything, "they'll do anything to please", "nothing's off limits"...these are common fallback lines of the transmysoginistic predator. a trans woman who defies this by rejecting someone for not being her type, no matter how nicely, is in a very scary position.

we hear white people say they're "not into black people" all the time. not only is it much more commonly said and accepted than when black folks say they don't want to date white people, but white people are incredibly eager to condemn black preferences overall, barging in on discussions which are really intracommunal.

and radfems use "type"-badgering to "prove" the "men" (trans women) who get angry and upset at them for doing this are "violent misogynists", that "maleness" is violence, and to indoctrinate each other. stories of the angry reactions their "type"-badgering got, screenshots from lgbtq+ spaces where people "ganged up on them" for saying they don't date trans women (usually they also said something along the lines of "i can tell when they're trans") are passed around in radfem spaces as Evidence that the Shadow of Maleness is infiltrating womanhood and preying on them...

...yet they're the ones invoking the maxim.

and sure enough, they are not going to cishet male-dominated spaces to do so. they are "type"-badgering specifically in queer/trans-inclusive spaces. functionally, it is nothing more than reactionary maintenance of a power structure which benefits them, and a bid to provide depth to the sense/fear of victimhood they've externalized and phenomenalized (this is a big part of why we say just don't engage.)

these are just a few examples, obviously. the last one is a good chunk of the reason i really made this post. because despite the fact that i'm sure most of us feel all this should go without saying, or can be shortened to "don't be an asshole", i really think it's relevant enough to the conversation about transphobia and exclusionism in leftist & queer spaces that it does need to be addressed, and probably more often.

[aceghosts]

And I try to move on, but I just can't let go

Summary: Rooney Shepard takes a missing person's case at the request of Rogue Amendiares; they do not expect the client to be their ex-boyfriend, Yorinobu Arasaka. Title comes from nightlife's fallback. Rating: Mature Warnings: Referenced Character Death (Specifically Jackie and Rooney's), Referenced Human Experimentation (Rooney), and I think that is everything. Let me know if I need to tag for anything else. Words: 5,198 Author's Note: Just wanted to explain: Rooney's original universe is Mass Effect. I've tried to blend part of the events of Mass Effect (not the aliens and reapers, but their pre-service history and similar events) into Cyberpunk 2077. I tried to fit it in as best I can, staying within the confines of the universe, but I've changed parts of canon. Tagging: @bbrocklesnar. @marivenah, @voidika, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @amalkavian, @onehornedbeast, @captastra, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @inafieldofdaisies, @vizarding, and @thedeadthree. I added everyone who liked this post; I hope it's okay that I tagged you. If you want to or don't want to be tagged, let me know.

AO3

Music blasts loudly as Rooney Shepard steps into the Afterlife, a deep frown on their face. Around them, patrons of the club shout, trying to make themselves heard over the music. Their head throbs, a headache forming as they head towards the bar. Why couldn’t this have been a holo call? Rooney supposes it must be an important missing person’s case if Rogue wanted to drag them down to the Afterlife. Glancing over to her booth, Rooney catches sight of Rogue holding court, already occupied with some merc. Could be a while before she’s ready to see them. They grab a stool at the bar, catching sight of themself in the reflection of the glass panels. In the neon green light, Rooney looks sickly pale, washed out. The dark circles under their eyes stand out prominently, a thousand-yard stare gazing back at them. If it were anyone else, Rooney would describe them as haunted, but they’re fine, nothing is wrong with them. They have to be fine.

A moment later, Claire is in front of them with a sympathetic smile as she places her hands down on the bar. “Here for work or play, Shepard?”

“Work.” I would never come here for relaxation, Rooney adds silently. Relaxation used to be nights building model ships with a decent beer. Or a night at some cheap dive bar with V, Jackie, Misty, and Vik, chatting and listening to classic rock. Now…Now, V is dying, and Rooney needs to help them find a cure. No matter what it personally costs them.

Claire nods, motioning over their shoulder. “Understood. Although, I think some hope that you might come in here for a night off.” They follow her gaze, towards a Corpo, sharing a table with two of his colleagues. He raises his beer in greeting before motioning to come over, all while giving Rooney a flirtatious smile. Not interested. Shaking their head, Rooney looks back to Claire. They weren’t really interested in anyone like that since…“I’ll get you your usual, Shepard, even though you look like you could use a beer.”

“Thank you.” As Claire goes to get their drink, Rooney breathes deeply. Focus, Rooney, Focus. They need to be focused, especially for a case.

She returns with their soda, sliding it towards them as she glances over towards Rogue’s booth. “Rogue is ready for you.” They nod, flicking the creds to her along with a good tip as they get off the stool. Rooney takes the drink with them, making their way over to Rogue.

Squama nods as they approach, with Rooney returning one of their own as he moves to let them pass. Behind him, Rogue lounges, faintly reminding Rooney of a Lioness from the old nature vids they used to watch as a child. She watches them carefully, despite her fairly relaxed posture. “Shepard,” She greets them with a fairly no-nonsense tone, motioning for them to sit.

“Rogue,” Rooney sits, placing their drink down on the table. They watch her carefully, knowing Rogue is one of the few people not to underestimate in Night City. You do not become Queen without disposing of a few pawns. Besides, Rooney is curious about why they are here. Normally, Rogue preferred to give them cases over the holo with a slightly mocking tone or have a client reach out to Rooney directly. It was the rare few that ever required Rooney to come to the Afterlife. 

“I have a job for you.”

Rooney raises an eyebrow, holding back a sarcastic response. “I assumed. Why meet in-person for this one?”

“This job requires…” Rogue pauses, looking away briefly as she searches for the right word, “discretion.”

As Rogue looks back at them, alarm bells ring in their mind. Adrenaline spikes as their heart beats faster. Rooney tenses, eyes scanning around the room for potential threats. Nothing good ever happens when someone mentions being discrete. They know all too well from their time in the military that it meant covering up dirty laundry, protecting the reputation of powerful people. And if anyone should find out the truth? God help them all. For all Rooney cares, someone else can have this case. “No.”

“No?”

Shaking their head, Rooney stands, on high alert, “I don’t want it. Give it to someone else.”

“Shepard, don’t be so dramatic,” Rogue rolls her eyes, “You haven’t even heard-.”

“Don’t care.” Right now, they’re getting the same bad feeling about this job as they had about V and Jackie’s gig with that idiot Dexter DeShawn. And look where those two ended up: Jackie six feet under and V well on their way there. “I’m not interested. You can find-.”

“Sit,” Rogue commands with more authority than some of their previous COs, “Hear me out, and if you still don’t want it after, I’ll find someone else.”

Leave. LEAVE! Their brain screams at them, but curiosity wins out in the end as Rooney sits back down.

“You weren’t my first choice for this gig, Shepard.”

“So, that means others passed on it.”

“You might not be my first choice, but I haven’t told anyone else about it yet,” She pauses for a second, “I hoped I could think of someone else for this. You won’t like the client.”

“Rogue, if you’re trying to convince me, you aren’t being very persuasive about it.”

“You’re only here because you get results. And the client needs results.” She emphasizes that last part, her voice taking on a serious tone. “The client needs you to find someone. Quickly and quietly.”

“A merc could do that for you.”

“They also need someone who isn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later. They need someone who can handle this with a fine touch.”

“Again, I’m sure you could find a thousand mercs in this city who meet that requirement. I’m a PI.”

“Not as many as you would think,” she counters, her gaze drifting down to their left hand, the metal one forced on them by Arasaka, “You might find this case to be personal.”

They clench their fist, his voice in their head: “I hope you make him and Arasaka regret doing this to you”. Saburo Arasaka might be dead, but his shadow loomed large over Night City and Arasaka still. “Rogue, are you saying that Arasaka is going after someone who might need help getting away from them?”

Rogue smirks and Rooney finally feels like they’re catching on. “Maybe,” she shrugs, playing a slightly disinterested tone, “But you don’t want-.”

“I’ll take it.” Rooney has a terribly bad feeling about this job, and they’re playing right into her hands, but they won’t let someone suffer at the hands of Arasaka. What if this person could help V, saving them from the parasite in their head? Or what if it was V? Arasaka had already sent exterminators after V. Rooney wouldn’t put it past them to send someone after V, and who better to help V evade capture than a friend? This job might be a trap, but they’ve walked willingly into traps before and come out alive. Unscathed was a different matter.

“Good,” She flicks her wrist, sending them a text, their holo beeping a moment later. “You’ll find the details for your meeting with them in an hour and a half.” They frown, opening the message as they notice the meeting location set for the Ebunike with very little information on the client. “You’ll hear the exact details from the client. Wanted to keep some of the mystery.”

Dismissed. They get up, sighing. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

“I’m sure you will, Shepard.” As they leave, all Rooney can think is: What have they gotten themself into?

—

As soon as they leave the Afterlife, Rooney heads towards the docks on their black motorcycle, hoping they’ll have some time for surveillance. They do, but their preliminary surveillance leaves them with more questions than answers. Maelstrom guard the dock, providing little useful information. They hear the name “Grayson” a few times, who seems to be in charge of the operation. Rooney would need to investigate him more, but it wasn’t a good sign that he was working with the Maelstrom or Arasaka. Whoever Arasaka was looking for was in deep, deep trouble.

Deactivating their optical camo, Rooney emerges from the shadows, hands by their side as they approach the two Maelstrom guarding the entrance. They are hyper-vigilant, keeping an eye out with their electrified monowires at the ready. “Oh fuck!” One of the Maelstrom exclaims while they both jump at the sight of Rooney approaching. Rooney…wasn’t on good terms with the Maelstrom. While they preferred to use non-violent methods to resolve conflict, the Maelstrom weren’t always willing to listen. And Rooney was willing to use violence if necessary. “Shepard, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m not here for you two,” the two Maelstrom glance at each other, seemingly unconvinced by their words, “I’m here for a meeting with your boss on the Ebunike about a missing person’s case.”

Scratching his head, one asks, “Why should we fucking believe you?”

“Yeah,” the other crosses her arms, “What if this is a trap?”

If it was a trap, these two would have never seen it coming. “Call your boss and tell him Rogue Amendiares sent me. If he does not vouch for me, I’ll leave. Peacefully. You have my word.”

The Maelstrom sighs, his eyes alighting as he makes the call. “Grayson, we have someone for you. Says Rogue fucking sent them. Want us to send them home in a body bag?” He’s silent for a moment before his eyes flick back over to them. “It’s Shepard.” Silent again before sighing, “I’ll fucking bring them over”.

 The call ends, and he turns to Rooney. “Grayson vouches for ya. Says I’m supposed to fucking bring you to him like I’m a goddamn messenger boy.”

“Lead the way,” Rooney motions, “We both have a vested interest in having this end as soon as possible.”

The Maelstrom motions for Rooney to follow as his compatriot stays behind to guard the gate. Rooney follows him silently, making more mental notes as they weave their way through the docks. Lots of containers, stacked high, which meant lots of hiding places, a good and bad thing. Good as it meant plenty of places for Rooney to disappear to give them an edge. Bad as it meant their enemy also had the same opportunity to surprise them. They also noticed a few good vantage points, which would have been excellent for sniping if they brought their sniper rifle, Black Widow, with them. They had the sniper rifle with them during their whole military career, even during the Unification War. Eventually, they reach the Ebunike with the Maelstrom guide, climbing the stairs behind him. As they ascend, Rooney wonders who at Arasaka would need such a large, moored ship. It did not seem like a typical Arasaka meeting place. If anything, Arasaka liked to hold meetings in their buildings or businesses with which they had deep ties. Corps liked to be in control, and Arasaka was no exception.

Dread grows within them, like the blade of a guillotine hanging over a soon-to-be executed man. Reaching the center of the deck, Rooney finds Grayson with a few Maelstrom beside him. He looks relaxed, too relaxed for their liking. “Shepard, thank you for coming. I hope the Maelstrom weren’t too rude to you,” Grayson greets them with an unearned air of friendliness.

“They were fine.” No, the Maelstrom weren’t, but Rooney was not about to tip their hand. They glance around the dock, taking stock of their situation. Some more containers, but nothing that would be too useful. Too open for their liking. Keeping a professional tone, Rooney states, “As I said to your friend, Rogue Amendiares sent me. Told me you had a missing person’s case for me.”

“We do, Shepard.” The world drops out from under them as the door to a container opens behind them. Rooney’s eyes widen briefly at the sound of a familiar borg voice, their anxiety spiking. Instinct kicks in a second later, and Rooney spins around, activating their electrified monowire. The wire gleams brightly in the dim lighting of the ship’s deck, an audible hum of electricity in the air. Rooney tastes the electricity in their mouth, a side effect of their monowires. In the dark of the container, two red glowing eyes stare at them. A second later, they heard the sound of loud machinery, Adam Smasher, Yorinobu Arasaka’s personal bodyguard, stomping towards them. He laughs, sending a shiver down Rooney’s spine as he comes out into the light. “Put the fucking wire away, Shepard. I’m not here to kill you. Yet.”

He’s trying to get a rise out of them, and it’s fucking working. Rooney never liked Adam Smasher, too machine-like for their taste. Too cruel; too callous. They don’t put the wire down, wondering why Smasher would be on the Ebunike of all places. And then, the awful thought hits them like a rocket a second later. Oh no. Oh no. Smasher has to be here for V. Or he’s looking for Takemura, who will undoubtedly lead him straight to V. They cannot let that happen. V won’t stand a chance against Smasher. At least, not without some serious chrome, firepower, and allies. Rooney won’t fail V, not like how they failed to protect-. “What do you want?” Their tone is sharp as steel.

“Put the wire-.”

“I’m only going to ask you once,” Rooney cuts Smasher off, the Maelstrom and Grayson audibly gasping at their audacity, “What. Do. You. Want.”

The tension is thick in the air with Rooney ready to snap at any moment. They know they might not win against Smasher in a straight-up fight, but if they get clever, Rooney can-. “He’ll want to tell you himself. The brat will have a fucking tantrum if I don’t let him tell you.”

They holster their monowires, fairly certain that Smasher doesn’t mean them harm. Curious eyes burn into Rooney, everyone wondering why they would cause such a stir with Smasher’s boss. “I doubt he wants to see me. I think it would be better if you and I talked-.”

“No one ever rejected him the way you did, Shepard. Was licking his fucking wounds for weeks.” Dread morphs into guilt, and Rooney looks away. They hadn’t wanted to hurt Yorinobu, but they needed to return to the Military. It was their home, or at least, it had been at one point. “’Sides, even if I told you, you don’t fucking think he would come to find you himself?”

He would come looking for them, which would place V in even more danger. Vik, Misty, and Mamá Welles too. “You don’t have to tell him. You could always withhold my identity.”

“Pays me too much for that, Shepard. You want the fucking gig or not?”

No, they don’t; they really don’t. But this might have something to do with V, and they can’t fail V. Rooney won’t fail V. It also sounds like Yorinobu might be in trouble too. He was the whole reason Rooney got through their time with Arasaka, after being reanimated and jacked with experimental mods. Yorinobu was the first one to make them feel like a person, not so alone. They wanted, no, needed to help Yorinobu if he was in trouble.  “I’ll do it. When would he like to meet?”

Something akin to a smile appears on Smasher’s face. “Now.”

—

The ride up to the Arasaka CEO’s office is a silent one as Rooney watches the numbers tick on as the elevator climbs upward. Their last interaction with Yorinobu plays over in their head, the memory as clear as day.

Yorinobu is panic-stricken, holding onto their arm tightly. “Rooney, you cannot go back to them. They threw you away, leaving you to the whims of Arasaka. What happens if you die again?”

Three more floors…

They frown, confused by his behavior. “Yorinobu, you can’t stop me from returning. We both knew I wasn’t going to stay here forever. What did you think would happen?”

Two more floors…

His grip on their arm loosens, face softening. “I thought you might want to stay with me. Help me destroy Arasaka from the inside.”

One more floor…

Rooney pulls their arm from Yorinobu. “In another life, I would have,” He looks heartbroken as they continue softly, “But I made a promise to serve, and I intend to keep my promise.”

The elevator door opens, releasing Rooney from their memories of heartbreak. They walk beside Smasher, gaze focused on the office in front of them. Rooney swallows nervously, rolling their left shoulder, out of habit. They never expected to see Yorinobu again, especially under these circumstances.

Rooney enters Yorinobu’s office with Smasher, Yorinobu standing in front of his desk, his back towards the two. In front of him is a large screen, detailing Arasaka’s stock value, and other information. “Do you have them?” Yorinobu asks, sounding vaguely annoyed.

“Course I have them,” Smasher motions to Shepard, “Do I ever come up fucking empty handed?”

Yorinobu shakes his head, placing the holopad down. He turns, facing Rooney and Smasher as the pair stop a few feet away from him. Trying to stay collected, Rooney feels like they’ve had the wind knocked out of them. He’s in front of them; Yorinobu is really in front of them. Yorinobu must be feeling the same way.  His eyes widen behind his glasses, shock clear on his face. “Rooney?”

He says their name, and they want to run to him so badly. To hold him in their arms and tell Yorinobu that they wish they had reached out sooner. Instead, they clasp their hands behind their back, aiming to treat him as they would any other client. “Good evening Yorinobu,” Rooney feels fairly confident in using his first name while staying professional, “I understand that you need help finding a missing person. I’m happy to work with your team, or I can recommend-.”

“That’s it?” Frustration colors his voice as he shakes his head. “This is the first time we have seen each other since that day, and this is how you react? Like I am stranger? Like nothing happened?”

Yorinobu is so much more to Rooney than a stranger. He’s the one that they let go, the one person who still holds the still-beating pieces of Rooney Shepard’s perpetually broken heart. “You are a client,” Their tone is firm as they continue to dig their grave, ever obstinate, “You are hiring me to find someone. Unless you would prefer someone else to take this case.” Someone who has less emotional baggage.

He looks hurt at their declaration, mumbling something under his breath about how stubborn they are, a badge that they wear with pride. To Smasher, he dismisses the man with a wave of his hand. “Leave.”

“Gladly,” Smasher replies, likely relieved to not be part of their argument. He stomps out of the room, leaving the two alone.

Silence permeates the room as Rooney searches for the right words. Yorinobu huffs, “What about us? Did any of that mean anything to you?”

They flinch a little, hurt a little by the insinuation that Yorinobu thought that Rooney didn’t care about their relationship, that it didn’t matter. But, they were treating him like a client. Sighing, Rooney unclapses their hands from behind their back. They join him at his desk and lean against it as they cross their arms over their chest. “What we had meant a lot to me, Yorinobu,” He perks up a little, some of that signature cockiness returning, “but you made it pretty clear when I left to return to the military that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I did not mean-.”

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it,” Rooney looks up at him, “I wanted to respect your boundaries, and you made it pretty clear about where we stood.” Yorinobu looks down at his desk, avoiding their gaze. Damnit, they were screwing this up. “Yorinobu,” they gently call his name, and he looks up at them, “I’m here now. Tell me about this case.”

He comes closer to them, the scent of his familiar cologne invading their nose. Woodsy with bits of Cedar and Nutmeg. “Saburo Arasaka is dead,” He admits quietly, meeting their gaze.       

“I would give my condolences, but I feel it would be more appropriate to say, may Saburo Arasaka rot in hell.”

Yorinobu smirks, a small laugh escaping him. “May he rot somewhere worse than hell,” He looks away from them, “He was poisoned by his bodyguard.” Not the story I was told, Rooney thinks. They trust that V’s version is more accurate, knowing how much Yorinobu hated his father. But, why was he continuing to give them the same tale he was giving everyone else? Probably because they were an ex he hadn’t seen in a few years. Yorinobu couldn’t know where their loyalties lie. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who was going to keep secrets.

“There were also two thieves that day,” They raise an eyebrow knowing full well that he is referring to V and Jackie, “They stole something from me. Something important.”

“Important how?”

Deftly avoiding the question, he picks up a black flash drive from his desk and comes to stand in front of them. Holding it up, he asks, “I have footage of the crime if you want to see it. Would you like me to insert it for you?”

Rooney nods, tilting their head slightly as brush away their dark red hair, offering him better access to slot the drive in. His right hand gently wraps around their throat, holding them still in place, fingers slightly interlaced with their hair. His brown eyes meet their ocean blue ones for a second, and Rooney’s breath hitches in their throat, a small flame of yearning they thought long buried flickering within them. He slots the drive in, the footage begins to play a second later. Two thieves pop out of the wall, clearly shaken: V and Jackie Welles. Formerly Night City’s dynamic duo. Close friends of Rooney’s. While Jackie and V’s faces are blurred, Rooney can still tell them from a mile away. The two mercs rush over to Saburo’s corpse, panicking over the dead man. The audio is distorted, perhaps on purpose to keep any mention of Yorinobu’s deeds hidden.

“Notice anything?” He asks, leaning in closer, his breath warm on their ear. Yorinobu’s thumb lazily strokes along the edge of their jaw. Rooney swallows, reminding themself to focus on the matter at hand: the footage.

“No.” Jackie and V freak out. Jackie paces back and forth in place, awkwardly holding the stolen goods. V is running back and forth, looking terrified as they search for a way out. A few moments later, Jackie and V are gone, the footage ending. The drive pops out, Yorinobu taking it as he releases their throat. Rooney tries not to miss the touch of his skin against theirs, but it’s hard to shake. “I don’t recognize the perpetrators,” a bold-faced lie, “I can reach out to some of my contacts underground to see if they’ve heard anything. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“You will need to find only one of the thieves. The man holding what they stole is dead.”

“Anything more?” Yorinobu looks away, placing the drive down, and Rooney senses some hesitancy. But they need to know. If Rooney can find a way to help him and V, they want to. There has to be a path forward; Rooney just can’t see it yet. “Yorinobu,” They say his name softly, uncrossing their arms. Gently, they place their hand on his shoulder, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze, “I know this must be difficult for you, but any detail helps. I want to help you.” Please let me help you.

He grabs a holopad from his desk, swiping it a few times before passing it to Rooney. Taking the pad, their brows furrow as they begin to read the details. Shit, that is the thing that is killing V. “What is this?”

“Do you remember how I told you that my Father did worse things? Things worse than experimenting on you?” They remember the conversation very clearly, the one where Yorinobu swore that he would destroy Arasaka from the inside out. “This is one of them: the Relic.”

“And what does the Relic do?” They already know what it does. It turns idiot mercs with delusions of grandeur into long-dead rockstars.

“My father wanted to live forever,” Yorinobu’s voice is grave, “The Relic was his answer to that.”

Horror washes over them like a wave capsizing a boat in a stormy sea. Their heart skips a beat, the awful insinuation not lost on them. That’s…that’s…There are not enough words in the human language for Rooney to express how awful it is. Shakily, they place the holopad down, facing him with horror clear on their face. Instinctively, Rooney cups his face, searching his eyes. He’s still Yorinobu, the man they knew. But that still doesn’t make them any less worried for him. “Yori..,” their nickname for him slips out in a breathy tone as he uses the opportunity to pull them closer, hands on their hips, “Saburo…he didn’t try to… he didn’t…?” Even after all the terrible things they’ve seen, Rooney can’t bring themself to finish the sentence.

“No, he never got the chance.”

Rooney breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“Worried for me?”

“Always.” From the moment they left the Arasaka labs, Rooney worried about him, afraid that he might do something rash.

“When did you come to Night City?”

They’re surprised at his question. “I thought we were talking about the case, not about me.”

“You know you need to find the thief and the relic, and I would prefer this was kept between you, Smasher, and I. You will also be compensated generously for your work. But, I am curious as to how you came to live in Night City.”

“I arrived a year and a half ago. Something about being with the military didn’t feel right anymore. I ended up here in Night City, a place where the Free States and the NUS would leave me alone.”

“Did you know I was here?”

They sigh, knowing this would go in circles. “Yes, but I thought-.”

“I know what you thought,” Yorinobu cuts them off, “But did you ever think about contacting me?”

More than he knows. Rooney remembers the first time that they thought about contacting him. It was a rainy day, and they were limping to Vik’s after a nasty run-in with Scavs. As they walk down the rainy street, they catch sight of Yorinobu’s face on a screen. He stops them in their tracks, the world seemingly stopping. They watch, mesmerized, no longer caring that the rain was drenching them as the news report continued. Without thinking, they pull up their contact list, scrolling down to Yorinobu. Rooney hovers over his name, wanting so desperately to call him, to hear his voice. Instead, they close the phone, knowing that some things are better left in the past. The second time was when V was in critical condition. Things were going to shit, and he was one of the first people Rooney wanted to contact. Actually, he was the first, but they decided against it. “I did,” They admit quietly.

“Did you miss me?” A loaded question if Rooney’s ever heard one. And one they refuse to answer. They should keep things professional, already having crossed several lines. “I missed you; I missed you terribly.” He leans down toward them, longing battling within Rooney. God, they want him badly, so badly that it threatens to consume them. He’s so close and Rooney leans up to meet him, wanting Yorinobu so much more than they realize. 

“Arasaka-sama,” A voice speaks over the intercom on his desk, “Hanako-Sama is here to see you.” Rooney is jolted back to reality, realizing what they were about to do and how monumentally of a bad idea this was. They release him, gently pulling themself out of his arms. Yorinobu looks pained at their rejection, and a sharp spike of guilt rises in their chest. It’s better for them both this way.

“I should go,” They have to do this, someone has to stop this, and Rooney will take on that responsibility, “I should start working on the case.”

“Rooney, please do not-.”

“Stop.” The wounded look on his face sends another stake of pain in their chest. “Hanako, your sister, needs you right now.”

“And you do not?” They open their mouth, and he cuts them off. “Do not give me some self-serving bullshit about being fine.”

Rooney is fine. Or at least, maybe they’ll convince everyone they are fine if they repeat it enough times. “Doesn’t matter what I need,” They say sharply, giving him a pointed look, “Right now, we need to find the thief and the Relic.” Or at least, buy enough time that they can figure out what to do with this shitstorm of a situation. “I’ll leave my number with Smasher and pass anything I find on to him.” Smasher was one of the last people that Rooney wanted to have their number, but this would be better for everyone.  

“No,” They raise an eyebrow before Yorinobu’s eyes alight and they’re receiving a call from him, “Since I still have your number and you have mine, please contact me with all updates. I plan to be very involved in this.”

The door to this office opens, and both turn towards the door, the sound of heels clicking drawing their attention.  Hanako Arasaka steps into the office, Sandayu Oda hot on her heels. “Shepard,” Hanako looks surprised, all while staying very prim and proper, “I did not know you were in Night City.”

“Just moved within the last year, Ma’am. Your brother didn’t know either.” Rooney knew what Hanako was fishing for. She had been aware of their relationship with Yorinobu the last time, even if she did not always approve of it. “Oda,” They nod a greeting towards him.

“Shepard,” He returns with a nod of his own.

“Please excuse me. I was just leaving, Ma’am.” They start, making their way to the door.

“Have a pleasant night, Shepard.”

“You as well.” Rooney quickly excuses themself, throwing one last glance over their shoulder at Yorinobu. He catches their gaze, winking at them. They shake their head, fully leaving the office.

As soon as they reach the elevator, Rooney leans against the back wall, letting out a sigh as the elevator door closes. Their holo pings a second later, a familiar name appearing. The text read: We should get a drink sometime. An offer that sounded far more tempting than it should. Rooney closes the message, leaving him on read. This was going to be a long case. 

[ahollowgrave]

There was a post asking RPers with moon-worshipping characters how they handle the moon's revelation, especially with Endwalker. But! I am too shy to reblog that with my actual answers so instead I will post this two page rambling under a cut. (:

Okay, so I look at it through two lenses: 1) How much does your average citizen know about the big wide star and everything our beloved Warrior of Light gets up to in saving it all the time?

There are things in the real world I don’t know and things I am shocked to find out other people don’t know!

The history of the Star is vast and dense and no one can possibly know every crumb of it. 

2) Faith requires a sort of peace in knowing you don’t and won’t know certain things. If you have all the answers to all your questions, you don’t need faith.

The asking of questions is vital, here. If you are not curious about the world around you how can you possibly come to love it and those it shelters? If you believe for a second that you have all the answers to all the questions then your curiosity dies. 

That said with Odette and her convent it really boils down to:  They don’t know!

Odette is young, she may not have been alive during Dalamud’s fall and Bahamut’s defeat. I’m not really sure because time bubbles and I’m very vague with her age because time is my mortal enemy. When the moon started its fall the convent probably took it to mean: gods mad. Who wouldn’t? Even the faithless might pray under such a thing, no?  But the convent is secluded and news is slow to reach them and what does reach them is often embellished or outdated or just untrue. They must pick through the stories they are told and find the truth of the matter - which is subjective, as well! What is true for one might not be true for another. 

It is a bit of a chore, is what I am trying to say, and unreliable narrators are aplenty.

Currently, the Convent believes that earlier scripture naming Dalamud as Menphina’s Loyal Hound were written by Spoken who were trying to make sense of the world around them. They got it wrong, but no doubt there are things we get wrong even now with all our knowledge. 

The point of their faith is not to get things 100% right all the time but rather to meet the star and her denizens with hearts full of love. They don’t allow dogs at the convent, however.

The news out of EW is another matter since it still feels very fresh and new. Odette has stepped into the role of Nun Errant and she does relay information back to her Convent, either in person or via letter. I don’t know if the news of the WoL fighting the 12 made papers and so far it seems that most of the Loporrits that stayed star-side are in Old Sharlayan to learn! A big ship did go beyond the moon but that was… beyond the moon! So, like the nuns, I don’t know! They are but Spoken creatures, they question, yes, but it is difficult for them to see the grand picture being as small as they are.  It should be noted that Odette is not the warrior of light. I try very hard for her to not know everything the warrior of light gets up to in the MSQ because she, realistically, would not know. She’s just some nun! What I CAN say is that if Odette knew everything that I, the player, know she would still worship the Moon and Menphina. Imprisoning Zodiark before more needless death, setting the Loporrits to building a fallback and escape plan, reincarnating her closest and most trusted allies to serve as deities and make sure he cannot be freed? That’s love, baby. Of course, Menphina, the deity of Love, would be the keeper of the moon and its secrets! Also, almost none of this answered the secondary questions but… This is already very long but I could go on about the dark side of the moon, what it means to love, and all that but I’ll end it with this: It is okay for your characters to be wrong and make mistakes, IC! Let them have harmlessly bad and factually untrue opinions. 

BONUS: I recall a question about how a manmade moon might effect a god or goddess who is tied to it! But -- prayer and belief is were deities get their powers.

Well, the 12 as we know them are kind of ‘manmade’ themselves. Yes, Venat sort of reincarnated her most trusted allies, however… It was shown that prayers have the power to change them! We know that this altered Halone in some ways and I believe that it altered Menphina the same. Basically: Enough of her worshippers thought Dalamud was her ‘loyal hound’ and so she got a loyal hound. So, why should the moon(s) be any different?

[pkmnomegaverse]

Do you have any Scarlet/Violet ships (or even just ship ideas) for the Omegaverse yet?

Answering this a year and a half later but so it goes sometimes.

Basically, while I’m still leaning towards not adding any fankids for Paldea until one of the kids smacks me from the void and forces themselves and their potential friends into existence, good fanart has convinced me of the SV ships I would lean towards.

Main Ship which is canon king is Florian/Kieran. I was all set to go with Arven and the protag, but as soon as the second part of the DLC gave Kieran an edge, it was over. Instantly sold. Love that kind of dynamic where one of the characters has the potential to be mean/unhinged. So yeah, they’re def endgame. Omega4Omega most likely. Since I do prefer Florian as an omega over an alpha. And while I would be willing to go either way with Kieran, the next ship is why I lean omega for him too.

While I overall prefer Kieran with Florian, fanart has made me like Drayton/Kieran as well. Like a lot. So that’s a thing that I waver about. They’re probably fucking during the events of the second DLC. Or at least around that time period, some kind of a relationship between them starts. But I know myself too well and the low hanging fruit there is surprise accidental pregnancy between them. Because I think the drama and potential fallout would be fun. Would Drayton feel forced to step up and take responsibility? Would his grandfather make him take responsibility? Would that even be something Kieran wants since their relationship was meant to be purely physical and not emotional when they first got involved? And then throwing in Florian and how he and Kieran resolve things just further complicates things.

I have mused on a three way route between them if I end up getting too attached to Kieran/Drayton, since I think Florian/Drayton could be fun as well. But really that’s lower priority to figure out since it’s only once the hypothetical Kieran/Drayton fankid maybe becomes concrete that the ball starts rolling. If I can avoid making that kid, than I don’t have to decide anything with them.

Any other ships past that are much lower priority. Hassel/Brassius are really good and for sure endgame. My fav normie ship from this game. Since they’re Old Man Yaoi (really Middle Aged Man Yaoi but hush), I’m not sure if I’d make a fankid for them. The vibe I get from them is they’ve been together for a while, so I feel like they would have had a kid together already if they were going to have kids. But as the kid clearly doesn’t exist in the games, I guess they’re a childless couple. Who knows though, I like them enough they’re the next most likely duo I would feel compelled to develop. Hassel is for sure an alpha. Brassius I can see going either way but low hanging fruit says to make him an omega. Although narratively I feel him being a beta would fit best. Both the kind of partner Hassel’s family would disapprove of the most (since if he were an alpha, at least he would maybe be someone impressive, for all that they would still view the relationship as a disappointment) and would also double as to why they don’t have children. No risk of accident baby so something they just never got around to.

I kind of flip flop between Rika/Geeta and Rika/Larry. But then I also kinda like Larry/Grusha. Some combo of that will probably be what I go with. For most of the other characters in general, I don’t have solid ships that stand out. I do like Arven/Florian, but since Kieran is too powerful and beat out Arven, I might make Arven/Juliana the fallback ship. But then Juliana is good with Nemona too. But also Nemona/Penny could work as a pair the spares so I’m sure I’ll combo that group together somehow. Depends who makes the most interesting fankids.

And past that I got nada. I’ve seen enough fanart of various other combos of characters where there’s a lot of other ships I don’t mind, but I don’t feel strongly enough to comment on them as having potential for me to endgame. If they happen they happen. But really I wouldn’t add any of them until I’m able to figure out the final situation with Florian’s family.

[avvail]

prompt #61

minor character death, minor blood

“Sidekick,” Hero breathes, pushing past them. “Sidekick, shit.”

The sidekick was trembling, lungs squeezing their chest and making their breaths shallow. They watched as the hero knelt down, checking the limp wrist for a pulse.

They watched their expression tighten, and something flash in their eyes, before they grimaced and cursed sharply.

Sidekick was horrified. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s okay, Sidekick,” Hero cut in, gently levelling their gaze. “Just...Just go back. I’ll deal with the fallback right now, okay? Just go.”

The sidekick’s vision felt blurry as they pinched their eyes, forcing their eyes away from the bloody scene. They turned and fled, feeling shaken to the core along the way.

[ereardon]

Come Back [Chapter 7][Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC]

Summary: Eight years ago, Bradley Bradshaw was just a college boyfriend who broke your heart. Now, he’s back in your life after a coincidental reunion, and he’s adamant about starting up a friendship. Will it be possible to be just friends with Bradley, or is he inevitably going to end up ruining everything you’ve spent the better part of a decade rebuilding?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x OC [Nurse Maggie Brooms]

WC: 2.5K

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fighting, miscarriage

Series masterlist

You knew it was bad when Bradley said no to a second cup of coffee. 

It was a small thing, but so out of character. Bradley loved coffee. You could have sworn that sometimes the smell hung off of him like he bathed using coffee-flavored soap.

“You sure you don’t want another?” you asked, grabbing his empty to-go cup and standing. “I’m getting another latte, happy to get you something.” 

He shook his head and sighed, bending over the heap of books he had spread out across the booth you two were occupying at the coffee shop. 

When you returned, hot coffee in hand, you slid into the seat and frowned at him across the table. “What’s with you? I’ve never, in two years, seen you decline more coffee.” 

Bradley looked up, leaning on one elbow. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Well then it’s obviously something important that you’re just going to pretend doesn’t exist until it explodes in your face.” 

He twisted his mouth into a frown but didn’t argue. He knew you were right. “I don’t know if I can afford to come back next year,” he said finally. Your eyes widened like he knew they would. “Everything is just so much more expensive than I had thought, and the financial aid office called this morning. There’s nothing they can do.” 

You shook your head. “That’s bullshit. Of course there’s something they can do. They don’t need any more money. There’s a million trust fund babies walking around campus paying full tuition. They can afford to give you a scholarship.” 

“Let me worry about it, OK?” he said, reaching over and taking your hand in his. “I’ll figure it out, I promise.” 

You watched in silence as he went back to pouring over his textbooks. When he wanted to be, he was a genuinely hard worker. He cared about doing well, which was more than you could say for a lot of other people at the school. And he didn’t have a fallback the way so many others on campus did. 

Later that night, you took a deep breath and grabbed your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. 

***

Bradley stared at you, his mouth open. The two of you were frozen in place, like figurines in a snow globe. His hands were hot on your sweater-clad arms, his face only a foot from yours where he loomed over you. 

“What did you just say?” he whispered, breathless. 

You shrugged out of his grip and he let you. Taking a few steps back, until you were pressed up against the far wall, you raised your eyes to his. “I was pregnant when you left, Bradley.” 

He shook his head. “What? How? When?” The words came out in a sputter. He looked on the verge of a complete meltdown. 

Stepping forward, you grabbed his hand and guided him to the couch. He had the pale sheen of someone who could pass out at any moment, and you wanted to make sure if that happened he didn’t have far to fall. “Put your head between your knees and take a deep breath,” you ordered. 

Bradley was clammy and when he wouldn’t move you reached out and gently pushed his head between his legs, heard him suck in a deep breath. After ten or so seconds you loosened your grip on his sweaty neck and he straightened up. 

“Better?”

He nodded. You scooted back against the side of the couch, claiming some distance. 

You hadn’t expected to tell him. What was the point, after all these years? 

Was it just to hurt him?

Or did a part of you believe he deserved to know?

“What happened?” Bradley asked. Suddenly, a wave washed over him and you saw the wheels churning a million miles per hour in his head. “Wait, am I a dad?” It came out in a whisper. 

There was a tinge of hope in his words. It broke your heart to shake your head and shatter that illusion for him. “No, you’re not.”

“Mags,” he said quietly, leaning forward and taking your hands in his. You let him. “Baby what happened?”

Closing your eyes momentarily, you took a deep breath. “You never asked why I became a nurse.” 

He squinted. “What?”

“Nursing. It was never on my radar at UVA. I got a biology degree, sure, but I had no concrete plans on how I’d use it.” You cocked your head to one side. “You never asked me why I chose nursing as a profession.” 

“OK?” Bradley said softly, playing along. “Why did you become a nurse?”

“It was the day after graduation,” you said quietly. You had never told anyone this story. “I was back at my apartment, packing things up to go back to Richmond. My parents had already left. It was late, I was taping one last box when I started to feel really sick. Something was wrong. I could just tell, but I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t know that I was pregnant at the time.”

Bradley’s eyes were locked onto yours. You had gone over it in your head before, how you would tell him. If you ever had the guts to do it. But in the scenarios in your head, you had never been able to properly picture Bradley’s face. 

It was so much more devastating than you had expected it would be.

“One minute I was packing and the next minute I woke up on the floor. I must have passed out from the pain. I didn’t know what to do or who to call. My parents were gone. Everyone else had already left.”

“I was there,” Bradley interrupted softly. “I didn’t leave for a week because I had to help clean out the house.” There was so much remorse twisted into his words. 

You shook your head. “You weren’t an option, Bradley.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, fingers digging into the couch. 

“When I woke up, I dragged myself out to the car and drove to the hospital. And when I got there, they admitted me to the ER immediately.” 

You paused and took a few deep breaths to calm  yourself. Bradley hung on your every word, his eyes traversing your face as he waited. 

“I had an ectopic pregnancy and it ruptured.” 

Bradley’s face was pale, but blank. “What, what does that mean?” he asked quietly. 

“Ectopic is when the fetus starts developing outside of the uterus. It could be in the ovaries or the fallopian tubes or even the cervix. Mine was in my right fallopian tube.” 

“Jesus Christ, Maggie,” he whispered, shaking his head. 

“I had the surgery to repair the tube and remove the fetus. It went fine,” you added softly. “And when I came out, they put me in a recovery room for a day. That’s where I met Joan.”

“Who is Joan?”

“She was my nurse,” you said and you watched as the pieces clicked together in Bradley’s mind. “She was there for me when no one else was. With more compassion and grace and genuine care than I’d ever known in my entire life. She was more of a mother figure for that one day than my mother has been in thirty years. She’s the reason I went to nursing school. She’s the reason I am who I am today.” 

You stopped and looked up at Bradley. He was slightly less pale, but his eyes never left yours. He was so focused on you and your story you were positive that if a car drove through the front windows of the house at that very moment it would take him at least fifteen seconds to react. 

“I’m not telling you to make you feel bad for me,” you said after a moment. “It’s probably time you knew.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Bradley murmured. “Except that I'm so sorry you had to do that alone.” 

“I wasn’t alone. I had Joan.” 

“Maggie,” he said and his voice brought back a flood of memories. Bradley’s hands gripping you tightly as you sat on his shoulders during a football game against Carolina. The velvety tone of his voice whispering in your ear in the morning as you were waking up, Bradley already slipping out of bed for class. The way you felt watching him smile at you from across the cab of the Bronco as you whipped down the road late at night, just driving until you felt like all other responsibilities had melted away. 

Bradley, for all of his flaws, had known almost every side of you. He had learned to read you like an open book exam. 

And now he knew the one secret you had promised yourself you would keep until your grave. After everything, you had given him the final puzzle piece. Bradley Bradshaw knew you better than anyone in the world. He just didn’t realize it. 

“I wish you would have told me,” he said softly. “I wish I would have known. I would have been there, Maggie, no matter what had happened with us. Fuck, I am never going to forgive myself for not being there for you.” 

It was the most genuine thing he had ever said to you. 

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” The anguish in his voice made you want to curl up and hide. 

“You walked out of my life, Bradley,” you said, standing up. “You made your choice and forced me to live with it. Why would I go back to the man who broke my heart to tell him I lost the baby we were never supposed to have?” 

There were tears in his eyes and he pushed them aside with his palms. “I ruined everything, didn’t I? Our whole lives. I threw everything away.” 

“It wouldn’t have worked,” you said finally. “We were so young and so naive.” “We loved each other.”

“That’s not enough, Bradley,” you said, whipping around to face him. “Even now that’s not enough. Real life means being there for the other person when you don’t want to. It means putting someone else ahead of yourself every single day because you promised you would. It means showing up when you say you will. It’s about sacrifice and honesty.”

“I can do that,” he said, standing up and crossing the room, grabbing your hands in his. “I can be that guy for you now, Maggie. If you’ll let me. Fuck, I missed so much. I missed everything. Don’t make me lose out on another eight years with you.” 

“I don’t owe you my time, Bradley,” you whispered and the impact of your words struck him like a slap. “How the fuck do you expect me to just throw myself back into your life. Trust my future to a man who left me for a woman who’s name I'm sure he doesn’t even remember. You were not the guy I needed you to be.” 

“I know it’s a cop out to say, but I’m different. I’ve changed, Mags. I want you. I have always wanted you but I was fucking stupid. Not that I’m not stupid now because I am.” You hated that despite the tears that made you laugh. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m also stupidly in love with the perfect woman standing in front of me. Just begging her to give me one more chance. One last shot. To believe in me. Even if I don’t deserve it.” 

“Bradley,” you whispered quietly. “I always believed in you.” 

He shook his head. “Back then you had no reason to.” 

You put two fingers under his chin. “Who do you think the Shell Foundation was, sweetheart?” 

There was a moment of thought before realization dawned over Bradley’s eyes. “Wait, that was you?” You nodded, biting your lip. “How?” he asked. 

“I asked my dad to liquidate my trust early,” you whispered. “You finishing school was more important than money in the bank.” 

“But, the financial aid office said it was a California-based scholarship fund for out-of-state students.” 

You shrugged. “They said what I asked them to say. They didn’t care, as long as the bill was getting paid.” 

“Maggie,” his voice came out in a whisper. “Why on Earth did you do that for me?”

“I loved you, Bradley,” you said, cupping one of his cheeks with your hand. “I saw my future in you. I would have done anything for you.”

Tears started to slip out of his eyes and you pulled him into a hug without thinking. His large, warm hands drew you in closer, tightening on your back. It was overwhelming and it was comforting and everything flew out the window when Bradley was holding you. As you held him. You weren’t sure who needed it more or where he started or where you ended.  

You weren’t sure how long you two stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Time with Bradley always managed to slip by in the blink of an eye. 

When you finally pulled away, Bradley clung to you. You reached up both hands and settled them on his cheeks. “Sweetheart.” 

He shook his head but you kept your fingers tight against him. “Don’t say it, Mags,” he whispered. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“Bradley, honey,” you murmured. You pressed your forehead to his, squeezing your eyes shut. And then softly, you pulled back and let your lips ghost over his. Bradley pulled you in tight, pushing against you immediately, one hand on the back of your head cradling you. After a few moments, you pulled away. It took everything you had to step out of his embrace and face him. 

“Why did you do that?” he asked gingerly. 

“I had to know it was real once. Everything we had.”

Bradley gazed down at you. 

“I have to go,” you whispered. 

“Maggie, no,” he begged, stepping forward and you held out a hand to stop him. 

“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” 

He ran his fingers through his hair, a look of desperation locked onto his features. “Maggie, life without you is the hardest thing there is. I’ve done it for the last eight years. I don’t want to have to do it for another eight or ten or twenty or however long it takes you to realize that I am holding out hope that you’ll come back to me. Because I know you will.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

Bradley reached out and brushed his fingers against your cheek and neck. “You’re my dream girl, Maggie Brooms. I go to bed and I think of you. I wake up and I think of you. And I lost you once. I will do everything in my power not to make the same mistake twice.” 

You sucked in a deep breath. Bradley caught your eyes. There was hope in his. 

What would it take to trust him again? 

Tag list: @abaker74 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @luckyladycreator2 @marantha @tayrae515 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @bradshawsbitch 

[thana-topsy]

My choice fell on Enthir/Gallus, number 4, because this ship deserves more than one angst drabble👍

Well, anon, thanks to that original Enthir/Gallus prompt, I've been so thoroughly infected with Enthir brainrot that I've started crafting an entire fic around him and his messy fucking life post-Gallus's death. Decided to take the opportunity to use this suggestion to flesh out their relationship a little bit more. I wouldn't say this follows the prompt exactly but it's close enough.

Note: gets a little raunchy near the end of this drabble. This scene will most likely make an appearance in the fic that's slowly being birthed.

--

Enthir had never known Gallus to be one who asked for help. He was a man with a plan, always. Every situation had a contingency, a fallback, a plan B. This being the case, when he turned up in the Frozen Hearth one evening, paler than a ghost and covered in a sheen of sweat, Enthir knew something had to be very wrong. 

“I believe I’ve found myself in a bit of a jam, my friend.”

Enthir only had to take one look at him to know that was the case. “The fuck did you manage to get into this time?”

Gallus flinched through his smile. He was hunched over in an odd position, his body (and whatever else he might be hiding) obscured by his thick woolen cloak. “You know I wouldn’t be here if I could take care of it on my own.” 

“Which means it’s bad.”

“One could say that, yes. I’ll just say, what I’m experiencing is rather unpleasant, and I could use, ah–” His eyes did a quick sweep around the room, his head remaining still, and Enthir took note of the sweat beading along his neck. “A discrete touch.” 

Enthir furrowed his brow. “Follow me.”

After making their way into the basement, in the privacy of Enthir’s office, Gallus removed his cloak, then pulled the glove from his left hand. 

Enthir hissed in empathy, his pulse spiking with panic. “Gallus, you idiot.”

The veins of his hands pulsed black, traveling up his arm to his elbow like trails of ink. On his middle finger was a ring adorned with the image of a skull, its eyes inlaid with sapphires. 

“I admit, I didn’t quite do my due diligence,” Gallus said with another wincing smile. 

“Sit,” Enthir barked, pointing at a chair. Then turned to one of his warded chests. “How long has it been on?” 

“Oh, a few days…”

“Be specific.”

“Since Fredas. Late evening.”

Enthir cursed under his breath, dismantling his wards and opening the chest. “One more day and that thing would have killed you. You understand that, right?”

“I do hate being chastised,” Gallus quipped, but his voice wavered. 

Enthir pulled a soul gem from the trunk, along with a ceramic plate inlaid with sigils. He returned to his desk and set the plate down in front of Gallus. “Hand in the center of the main circle,” he instructed, then sighed. “The most disappointing thing about this situation is that I don’t think I’ll be able to salvage the ring.”

“Please try,” Gallus urged.

“It’s either your arm or the ring, Gallus. And while I know it’s not your stroking arm, I think you’d probably miss it.” He sighed. “But I’ll try. Now hold still.”

It was a delicate process—untethering the ring’s curse from Gallus’s life force. Enthir had recognized it immediately: an artifact of the second era, worn by priests of the Worm Cult. Unless worn by the properly initiated, it would siphon the vitality from its wearer, storing it in the ring until a proper cultist required use of it. Worth at least ten thousand gold to the right buyer.

“You’ve always had a bad habit of sticking your fingers where they don’t belong,” Enthir quipped. Humor eased the panic, made it feel less dire. 

“I’ve never heard any complaints,” Gallus volleyed, as was expected. “Especially not from you.”

Enthir smiled at the comment but maintained his focus, a soul gem in one hand, spell in the other. His fingers twitched as he altered the form in his head, delicately untangling the invisible strings that spread like a fungus through Gallus’s arm, latching to his energy pools like leeches. Slowly, the blackness in his veins began to fade, shrinking back towards the ring. He heard Gallus exhale shakily. After several more tense minutes of silent concentration, Enthir saw the inlaid sapphires flash and he deftly yanked the ring from Gallus’s finger.

“Fucking hell,” Gallus exclaimed, drawing his hand back to rub at his finger. “I owe you my life.”

“Again,” Enthir reminded him. He rolled the ring across his palm, picking up the nearby magnifying glass for closer inspection, checking the inner band. The delicate sigils were still intact, glowing faintly. “Good news: it’s still functioning.”   

“Praise the shadows,” Gallus breathed in quiet prayer. 

“Yeah, that would have been one of your more costly fuck-ups.” He handed the ring over to his friend with mild dismay. It wasn’t every day something that lucrative passed through his hands. “I assume you’ll be compensating me accordingly?” 

“Coin, goods, or services?” Gallus shot back with a grin, the color returning to his cheeks.

“Coin,” Enthir clarified, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “Once you sell it. If you manage to sell it, that is. Otherwise I’ll take whatever you think is fair.”

“Fair?” Gallus got to his feet and strolled around the desk, still rubbing his finger absently. “You place so much trust in me. It’s touching, really.”

“Hopefully not something you intend to put to the test,” Enthir said, his pulse quickening as Gallus dropped to his knees in front of him, hands sliding up Enthir’s thighs.

“I would never.” He laced his fingers at the small of Enthir’s back, arms resting along his legs as he gazed upwards with that boyish smile he so often used to get his way.

Enthir cocked his head to the side, reaching down to brush a thumb across Gallus’s lower lip, tracing his fingers along the line of his jaw. “I could accept… services. In the interim. Think of it as a downpayment.”

Gallus’s pupils had blown wide, the hazel green of his eyes reduced to a thin ring. He smiled, placing a small kiss against the pad of Enthir’s thumb. Then he began to unbuckle Enthir’s belt. 

It was a perfunctory blowjob—more business than anything else—but Enthir threaded his fingers through Gallus’s hair softly, indulgently, gripped the sides of his head as he bobbed on his cock. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and let his mouth soften, groaning into the silence of his office, the only other sounds the slick suction of Gallus’s mouth as he worked. Gallus always swallowed, which was commendable. Left little to clean up. Enthir slid his thumb past Gallus’s lips after he’d pulled off, just to feel the soft heat of his tongue one last time, before leaning forward and kissing him firmly, tasting his own seed in the process. 

“What did we learn?” he asked in a low growl.

“Hmm?” Gallus replied, eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips. “Sorry?”

“Cheeky fucking bastard,” Enthir laughed, gripping Gallus’s jaw tighter and pulling him up for another kiss.