#ITS SO CLEAR HOW HES ALREADY HAVING SECOND THOUGHTS ON THE DECISION BUT IS TRYING SO HARD TO CONVINCE HIMSELF THIS ID RIGHT

[starryemeralds]

guys don’t worry, aziraphale is just in his zuko arc

[chiscaralight]

you most definitely should NOT be fucking your plumber. but its excusable this time because tartaglia knows exactly what to do with you!

trying to clear my drafts lol. nsfw!tartaglia x reader. he's your plumber. slight nonconsensual voyeurism, oral, both m and f receiving, no penetrative sex, (here. pt 2 ?) enjoy plz. still have one more request to write after this then I should be done for the day. I've posted like 4-5 back to back since last night kekw

sex wasn't something that really shook you. sure it felt good, but it's not something that crossed your mind too much. well, not until that sexy ginger bastard came to fix your pipes that day. the boyish grin splayed on his face as you opened the door, the way his grey shirt hugged his arms, how smooth his voice was when he spoke to you... you're already clenching your thighs together at the mere thought of him.

so while you're cursing the person who marketed this house with an array of plumbing problems, you're thanking your stars it happened because you're getting to see that stupidly hot man working hard to fix whatever is going on with your housemate's bathroom.

but you never know what he's thinking! you notice the way his eyes catch the soft skin of your thighs while he's mending the pipe that burst somewhere behind the house. but it's barely a second before he turns back to his work. he's keeping the conversation with you as you try to hide your pout. you have an inkling of a feeling that you're not imagining it though, because he's raising his arms a bit too high for stretch and exposing a sliver of his skin for a second too long. when you finally look up from staring embarrassingly long at his happy trail, the look on his face is anything but innocent. the air is thick with tension, and you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

he just claps his hands together and picks up his toolbox. he nods at you and tells you to call him if anything goes wrong as usual before taking his leave. once the door, shuts you're groaning hard and flopping down onto the couch. you don't even take your shorts off as your hands are worming into your underwear, fingers quickly getting coated in the wetness. all you can think about is him. you're practically going insane! imagining what it would feel like if it was his fingers in you now, rough thumb pressing on your clit as he hits that spot in you. your orgasm comes quick and hard as you try to keep your moans to a minimum.

you shake your head as you sink into the cushions of the chair. you can't do this anymore. you don't want this man. no. you need him an abnormal amount. and you're going to make sure that you get him. what you don't see, is the way he silently pulls away from the window once you start waddling towards the stairs. it's going o be difficult walking down the street to get to his car with the way his cock is straining against his pants, but at least he'll definitely have something fun to think about when he gets home.

it's definitely wrong, you know. but your mind is made up and you're going to do this. so when tartaglia is stepping into your kitchen because "the sink is making a weird noise," you're leaning against the island and very poorly pretending to be doing something on your phone. but he's no idiot. there's absolutely nothing wrong with that fucking sink. so this is your plan? he's trying hard to stifle a laugh. he turns to you with mock concern and tells you he's just going to check the pipes under the sink real quick. as expected, but what you don't expect is for him to lay on his back and slide into the space under. he takes his sweet time, dutifully messing with the pipes as he spreads his legs and props his knees up.

you're not even hiding the way you're staring now. phone long forgotten on the counter, your mind is racing as you try to make a decision. this could go one of two ways, but the consequences of your actions are the last of your worries when you finally seat yourself in his lap. he doesn't even have time to question you before you're grinding down hard on him. the gasp that leaves your lips when he slowly rolls up into you is absolutely sinful. his hands are greeting your hips as yours splay out onto his chest. your eyes are squeezed shut, and a groan falls from his mouth as another voice cuts the two of you out of your daze.

you almost forgot your roommate was home! the man under you is about to speak, but you just shove two fingers in his mouth and respond as calmly as you can. she just tells you she's on her way out and I'll see you later before the familiar sound of the front door closing sends you a wave of relief. it's the feeling of his wet tongue dragging against your digits that reminds you of the position you're in. your face flushes as you drag your fingers away from him.

" no no, don't get all shy on me now. you gotta finish what you start, beautiful."

which is why you're now pushing him back onto the couch. you're quick to straddle him, arms finding his neck as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. those plump lips taste so sweet to him, he's not even letting you come up for air. his grip on you is strong as he flips the two of you over so you're the one laid down. the way his hands graze up and down sends shivers across your whole body. when he pulls away, his gaze is lazy. he keeps his eyes on you and kisses his way between the valley of your breasts, around your belly button and stops right above where he needs to be. he's slowly dragging his nose against your clit, and the sensation has you whining, trying to push his head down further, but he doesn't budge. he takes his sweet time, kissing over your clothed slit while your fingers tangle in his hair. he moves away and you're ready to protest, but he tells you to relax. his fingers hook the sides of your underwear to drag them down.

his eyes are sparkling like a child in Disneyland for the first time. you're fucking soaked, cunt clenching in anticipation as his tongue finally comes in contact with you.

he's moaning into you at the sheer taste. he's lapping up every drop like a starving dog, tongue finally prodding into you. he knows exactly what he's doing because of the way the wet muscle darts of his mouth, tongue fucking you with an expertise that has you clamping your thighs down around his head. it's sinful, the way he's eating you out like this not only for your pleasure but his too. you're pulling hard at his ginger locks as you cum around his tongue. he rides your high out, letting you hump on his face like a bitch in heat to strain out every last drop of pleasure you can. he's dragging himself back up, lips connecting with yours. he's still drenched with your essence, but you don't seem to care, because the tongue that was in you a few minutes ago is caressing yours, dipping and swirling into your mouth.

When you decide you've had your fill, you push him off to sink your knees to the ground. the way his lips start to curl up is almost automatic, and you're rubbing your cheek against the fabric covering his bulge. he raises up to let you pull his work slacks down. your mouth waters at how thick he is, swollen tip leaking precum as you kiss up his length. you slap it on your tongue for good measure, before enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth. he's big, really big, and you can feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes as he pushes your head down. you slurp around him and pull off, and the noise he lets out has a familiar heat pooling between your legs. you work your way strongly up and down, and he's fighting every urge to fuck your mouth; all in vain. because once he feels his orgasm coming, both his hands are supporting your head, and he starts to thrust quick. when he comes, it's thick and hot hitting the back of your throat. You gasp for air as he finally pulls off, and his fingers are finding your chin in a firm grasp.

he's about to kiss you again, but the sound car pulling into the driveway pushes you both back into your senses. you're getting up on wobbly knees and ushering him upstairs because you're sure as hell not letting this end here.

lol

[gremlingottoosilly]

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry. 

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep. 

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside. 

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea? 

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate. 

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me. 

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. 

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him. 

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app. 

— Thank ye, lassie. 

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party. 

The driver is chatty. 

Really fucking chatty. 

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour. 

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now. 

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up? 

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels. 

— Don’t have any. 

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely. 

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone. 

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing. 

— I’m focusing on my career. 

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed. 

— Career? How does that work out for ye? 

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar. 

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver. 

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit? 

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before. 

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to,  you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least. 

— Um, sir? 

— Aye, lassie? 

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible. 

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side. 

— Didnae think I did. 

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold. 

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in. 

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”. 

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment. 

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass. 

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand. 

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself –  he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth. 

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one. 

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row. 

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver. 

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine. 

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble. 

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers. 

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance. 

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway. 

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable. 

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye? 

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth. 

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress. 

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough. 

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home. 

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now. 

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you. 

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips. 

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke. 

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off. 

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this? 

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl. 

He loves his team – and they will love you as much. 

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone. 

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe. 

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye. 

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride. 

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes. 

— And you aren’t? 

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though. 

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it. 

— Goin’ bring her home? 

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed. 

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob. 

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny. 

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me. 

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls. 

— Too tight for my dick. 

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky. 

— Never intended to, sir. 

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold. 

— How is her mouth? 

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt. 

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny. 

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after. 

— Selfish, Mactavish. 

— We all deserve to be selfish. 

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention. 

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team. 

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise. 

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again. 

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. 

[sxcret-garden]

ღ NCT Dream Jeno x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2.5k ღ genre: college AU, roommates AU, a bit of humor if you squint, smut ((subby) perv!Jeno, a bit of humiliation, handjob (idol receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “How many times have you jerked off to me?”

It’s a Thursday afternoon like any other - you arrive at home at around 4pm after the end of your last class, you’re slightly exhausted from having a busy day, and you’re craving nothing more than some alone time with your laptop and some comfort food.

Except that you didn’t expect to hear your roommate moan your name upon entering your shared flat. You think you misheard it at first - maybe you’re more tired than you thought and you’re so out of it that you’re having hallucinations? - but then you hear it a second time. Jeno, most likely in his room, is calling out your name loud and clear, followed by a groan that causes blood to rush to your cheeks. You’re a little embarrassed about it at first, but at the same time you find it strangely amusing. And so, you make the most immoral decision in a while, and you draw closer to his room as quietly as possible to eavesdrop.

“Mmmh… feels so good, Y/N…” you hear him mutter. “Your pussy… so tight…” You raise your eyebrows as you're caught off guard by the dirty things leaving his mouth, but at the same time a huge grin appears on your face. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s into you - you’ve known that something’s up for weeks, and even your friends who occasionally come over when you’re both home have noticed that he has a crush on you. He hasn’t made any clear advances on you though, and neither would you for as long as you’re stuck living under the same roof. You don’t mind that he obviously treats you differently than his other friends, that he smiles more to himself when he’s around you and that sometimes he stares at you a little too long when he thinks you’re not looking. However, the thought of attempting to date someone you’re already living with would’ve never crossed your mind either.

And still, here you are now, listening in on Jeno getting himself off to what you assume is a very detailed fantasy about you, and you’re somehow not repulsed by that at all. And so you bite your lip in excitement as you hear him groan your name over and over again, spelling out bits and pieces about the mental image in his head. 

“Ride me… yeah… just like that…” An uncontrolled moan escapes him, making you think he’s about to cum, and you wonder whether you should announce your presence before, after, or not at all. “Ah… your tits… I love your tits bouncing like that…” And then it happens. You crack up. You make a noise. And at the same time he stops making noise altogether. You’ve given yourself away, and in order to spare him the suspense that you imagine is killing him at this very moment, you step through the half open door. Standing in his doorframe now, your gaze finds his huge hand wrapped around his cock in all its pre-orgasmic glory, and then also his wide open eyes, quivering lips, and deep red cheeks. He gapes at you, opening and closing his mouth like a fish under water, and you almost feel a little sorry for him.

“Excuse me, but would you let me in on the fun or am I supposed to keep pretending I’m not here while you’re getting off to my bouncy tits?” Jeno remains speechless. You’d have thought he’d immediately try to hide, try to talk himself out of this situation, but none of the likes. He just keeps sitting there, at the edge of his bed, frozen. 

“What day is it?” That’s the first thing he says when he finally speaks.

“Thursday?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Oh my god. I thought it was Friday. Shit.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean against the doorframe. Friday is when you would’ve had an evening class, so it makes sense that he thought he’d be undisturbed for another while. However, this also makes another burning question arise - almost as burning as Jeno’s deep red ears.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?” Jeno looks around the room, obviously in a panic, and somehow his hand is still wrapped around his exposed dick.

“U-uhm… like… today?”

“Lee Jeno, my god. I didn’t think you were such a huge pervert.”

“I… I’m sorry?” Now he grins abashedly, like a five year old boy that has just been caught preparing a prank on someone, which makes quite the contrast to the rest of the position he’s in.

“At least it’s not on my bed…” you comment, and when he seems to run through another circle of internal panic at your words, you immediately brush them off, gesturing wildly. “You know what? No, let’s not talk about this.” Though, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, on second thought it somehow turns you on to think he’s secretly snuck into your room just to get off on you there.

“I… can I have a minute or two? And then we uh… talk about this?” Your roommate gives you an apologetic yet mischievous grin, and you profusely shake your head.

“No. No, you can not have a minute or two.” And then you push yourself off the doorframe, and you take a few steps to his bed until you’re standing right in front of him. You see him gulp as he looks up at you, and a single drop of sweat makes its way down the side of his face. Perking up an eyebrow, you slip out of your shirt, throwing it to the ground somewhere next to you. 

“So… how many times?” You pose the question once again as you put your hands on his shoulders, and a knee between his legs. 

“T-today it’s… the first time…”

“And overall?” You lean in and you let your lips ghost over his neck. “Be good and tell me the truth.”

“U-uhm…” Jeno stutters, unable to bring himself to answer. You find it kind of cute, and when you nip at the skin below his ear and you let a palm glide down the shirt covering his stomach, he becomes even more flustered. You decide to tease him for a while, running your fingertips back up and raking them into his hair as you take your sweet time scattering kisses all over his neck. He leans his head back a little, allowing you better access, and you have to grin at how needy he is.

“Been close?”

“Huh?”

“Were you close to having an orgasm when I barged in?” you clarify, and you lift your head to get a good look at his face. 

“I-…”

“Just tell me. Maybe I’ll help you out a bit…”

“V-very close…” He’s still embarrassed that you caught him. You can tell by his stammering and by the way his cheeks are still dusted pink, but when you put your hand over his, slowly sliding it towards the tip of his cock in order to take over for him, he relaxes with a sigh.

“Now… how many times?” You stroke him slowly, watching him melt under your touch with a groan.

“F-faster…” he mutters under his breath, and you huff.

“Then answer my question.”

“A few times…?”

“Oh really?” You apply some pressure when going over his tip, and another desperate gasp escapes him.

“M-maybe every Friday… for… some time…”

“You are such a perv,” you say, but at the same time you speed up the movement of your hand. Jeno throws his head into his neck with a groan, digging his fingernails into the bedsheets at his sides.

“I heard you call my name too,” you say. “Wanna let me hear that again? Right in front of me?” If looks could kill you’d be dead by now, but when you cock your head to the side and you stop moving your hand, he’s quick to give in.

“Y/N…” he moans, “keep going. I’m begging you…” You smirk at his request, and you give him what he wants.

“It’s really cute how much control you can have over a guy once you have his dick in your hand.” You say that, not thinking much of it, but it seems to be doing something for him, as he squeezes his eyes shut and moans your name again.

“Y/N… I’m gonna-” His load spills into your hand as he clenches his teeth and a strained groan escapes his throat. You stay like that for a few seconds, drinking up his blissful expression that none other than you is responsible for, and then you get up to grab a tissue from beside his bed to clean yourself up.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, I-” Jeno gets ready to apologize, pulling his pants back over his softened dick, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unzipping your jeans and slipping out of them. “I’m not doing this for free. Also, I thought you wanted me and my bouncy tits to ride you?” He blushes again at how nonchalantly you say this, but when you also rid yourself of your underwear, now standing completely naked in front of your roommate, he merely gapes at you in disbelief. 

“Get naked,” you prompt. “Or are you telling me you’re gonna miss out on this chance?” Jeno doesn’t think twice, and he hastily slips out of all his clothes as you watch him with a victorious smile on your lips. You let yourself marvel at his toned, well-trained body, and once he sits down on his bed completely naked, you crawl on top of him, pushing him back into the blanket by his shoulders. 

“Now, tell me again what you almost got yourself off to.” Again, he’s shooting daggers at your wicked grin and your words, but you can also see a certain thrill in his stare as he begins to talk.

“You… on top of me… like right now,” he begins to explain reluctantly as you run your hands down his chest and abs. However, the more your palms roam his body, the more confident he becomes. “I was thinking about you riding me… my hands on your hips, like this.” Jeno grabs your hips at once, giving them a squeeze, and then you allow him to guide them to his core. You roll them in his lap once, and you feel your folds grazing his hardening length.

“You’re already getting hard again just at the thought of it?”

“Aren’t you getting wet at the thought too?” he challenges you, and you can’t exactly deny it. Not when you feel the heat rushing to your core so clearly.

“So? What’s next?” You ignore his attempt at teasing you, and instead you keep rocking your hips, feeling him grow against your slick pussy. He sighs at the friction, and you raise an eyebrow, throwing in, “My boobs?”

“Y-yes…” he answers, and suddenly his stare is glued to your chest. He brings one hand up to squeeze your right tit, and you moan at his touch. It fits into his hand just perfectly, and you too find yourself throwing your head back at the way he gropes you. 

“You’re so perverted…” you hum, and then you lift your hips off him for a second. Aligning yourself with his full grown length, you prepare yourself to take him in. And then you let yourself glide down on him, taking in just the tip to tease him, but in that same moment you can clearly feel just the tip isn’t enough for you either.

“Fuck…” you mutter under your breath, hands propped up on his chest.

“Well, you’re the one currently having sex with that perv, so…” Jeno comments. You come back up, having him slide all the way out, before lowering yourself onto him again. You repeat that process a few times, each time taking him in a little deeper, until eventually you both run out of patience, and he takes control with both hands back on your hips. Guiding you all the way down, you gasp at the way he stretches you out, and Jeno gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size. And then, you begin to bounce on top of him, and you find his lustful eyes fixated on your breasts.

“Perv,” you mutter, but that only seems to turn him on more. 

“You’re enjoying it,” he throws back, and you can only moan in response.

“Maybe…” But who could blame you, when he feels so good inside you, and when his hips meet you so perfectly every time you sink down onto him. You feel him pressing his thumb against your clit, and it causes you to groan, becoming more eager in your movements.

“You gonna get off on that perv’s cock, huh?” Jeno teases you, directing his full focus on pleasing you. You whine in response, feeling your high approaching at light speed. Something about this situation makes you unbelievably horny, but you currently don’t have the means to figure out what exactly that is. Instead, you focus on moving your hips in just the right way to maximize your own pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N… you feel so good…” You moan in appreciation, and through a string of curses falling from your lips, your high crashes down on you. You feel yourself clench around his cock, and your thighs tremble as you keep rocking your hips even past your orgasm. You bring Jeno’s hands up to your boobs, letting him squeeze and play with them as he pleases while an expression of utter bliss appears on his face. 

“Mmhh… this is even better… than I imagined…” he groans through gritted teeth, and now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks as well because of his boldness. You feel him twitch inside you as your hips keep bouncing on top of him, and then eventually he shuts his eyes tightly and grunts your names as he cums inside you.

You crawl off him, knees still shaky, but you do your best not to let him notice. Then, you collect your clothes, tucking them under your arm.

“I’m going shower,” you inform your roommate, who’s following your every move with his eyes. You can tell he’s unsure what to say, and you’re at least as speechless as he is about what you just did, but you’re a bit better at seeming unbothered. You walk out of the room, and just as you’re right in the doorframe, he calls out to you to make you halt.

“We should do that again sometime,” Jeno blurts out, and you fail to suppress a dirty grin.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I catch you getting off to me again I’ll think about it.” You throw him a wink, and before you can fully register the smirk on his face that’s supposed to tell you he’s accepted your challenge, you leave the room for a nice and hot shower.

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Fireflies ╝

Premise: Haganezuka gets a marriage proposal from one of the elders of the village, marrying was a must for those in the Swordsmith's village, self preservation of the clan and its techniques was absolutely mandatory. He hated the idea to his very core, to say the least.

Word count: 3544

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Amongst all the preparations of the corps to beat Muzan, came the craftsmanship of the Nichirin swords, an art that had been passed from generation to generation to this day.

Haganezuka Hotaru, had the honor, some would say, to craft every single one of Tanjiro’s swords, even if the last one wasn’t his own creation, thanks to him it was in fighting conditions.

Though, this also meant one thing, now that the sword was ready he had a lot of free time since his mountain training was over as well, the sword had been officially delivered to its owner and he had just one eye left, even if he wasn’t completely sure of how all that actually happened.

Tecchin, the village’s chief and his father figure called upon him a lovely afternoon.

He thought he was being summoned for tea and sweets, as that’s usually the only reason to call him there, but that was far from the truth this time.

He was rewarded with the promised mitarashi dango set, yet tea time was not the reason for his summoning.

“Hotaru, you are to marry next full moon.” a mochi ball got stuck in his throat making him cough loudly in order to save his own life.

“WhAT?”

“You heard me, boy. It was decided already, you will marry the great granddaughter of the previous chief. I wanted her for Gantetsu, but it appears she prefers you instead. It is your duty to take her hand in marriage, it’s final.”

“But why me? What do you mean she prefers me? Why was I an option? Does she know I don’t want any part in this? Does she even know what she’s getting herself into? Tell me where she lives! I will make her regret her decision!” he was hyperventilating at this point, smoke coming out of his mask, the elder getting ready to face one of his angry outbursts.

“I do not know why she would prefer a crazy boar like you, but it is a fact that cannot be changed. You can ask her all those questions yourself; she should be here any second now.” the man was trying to calm himself down by chewing on some more treats, he needed his head clear, otherwise he would get sucked into this situation without an exit path.

You did arrive a few minutes after his statement, proving your eagerness. The kimono you were wearing was beyond expensive, your hair up beautifully decorated with the finest hairpins, and your makeup had been clearly done by someone who knew what they were doing.

You looked like a doll, one to keep on display for all the village to look at and brag. Or at least that was the impression Hotaru got the moment you stepped into the tatami matted room, definitely not someone who should be interested in a man like him.

“(Y/N), my dear, please sit with us. Do you like mitarashi dango? I got these from the famous shop down the street, they’re Hotaru’s favorite treat.” the mentioning of his name got him restless once more, he had so many questions but also just wanted this whole thing to end so he could go back to his lone training in his room.

“I do, Tecchin-sama. You’re very kind.” stretching a hand over to grab one of the sweetened treats, you smiled in his direction. He just couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman, you weren’t just taking his time with your ridiculous expectations but were also eating his food.

“I informed Hotaru of the ceremony and its date, I will leave you two alone so you can get to know each other.” you just nodded in appreciation, bowing to the elder as he exited the room, plainly excited to finally have some alone time with your future husband.

“Woman, what is this about? I’ve never seen you in my life, why is it you wanna marry me?” the question caught you off guard, you knew you would have to address the matter at some point, you just wished it wasn’t this soon, you tried your best to look presentable and get in his good side, yet that didn’t seem to be the case.

“I- well, I have seen you around…” your voice turned softer, uncertainty could be felt from your words but also an unexplained amount of warmth came along.

“You’ve seen me around? That’s it? Have you not seen any other men ever or what’s your deal?” you could see his frustration growing by the second, you were aware of his bad temper and wanted to avoid triggering him yourself, especially on your first official meeting, though it seemed you also failed at that.

“No, no. That’s not it. I…” sitting up straighter, you left behind the sticky sweets to fully convey your thoughts and show him your resolution filled heart, it was now or never. “I saw you when you were training in the mountains. I was there myself in isolation, trying to cure the restlessness of my soul. You see, my family had been trying to get me to marry someone for a good decade now and it just never worked. But I was the problem, not them.” this piqued his interest, so he just remained quiet, listening without making any sort of commentary.

“They never interested me; I just couldn’t see myself marrying men like them. My father was so angry that he sent me to the mountains to reflect on my behavior. That’s when I saw you. Your extreme rigorous training, you were so focused you didn’t even notice I was sitting beside you one day.” racking his brain he is certain he didn’t see any woman at all while training, this was concerning to a degree.

“To me it was a wonderful sight, all that determination, that concentration, that urgency to become better, those muscles….” the last part was nearly over a whisper, yet he heard it loud and clear, the tips of his ears burning at the little piece of information gained.

“So, when Tecchin-sama and the elders came up with the proposal to marry his son, I just picked the son that managed to interest me instead of the one who was being offered. I also happened to be around to see how you were bleeding everywhere and kept on sharpening that blade for the young lad after the attack, it was so alluring and ugh, yeah…you know…” he could see your blush shinning brightly even under the layers of fancy makeup you were wearing.

He was definitely not prepared for such a confession; he was more than ready to not only turn you down but make a scene just to make sure you’d hate him. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to go the route anymore, though.

“So, you’re physically attracted to me? Is that it? You haven’t even seen my face. What if I’m an ugly bastard?”

“Oh, but I saw it…though, even if you were…I’ve never seen someone so determined and with such a strong nature. That would be enough for me, since I’m considering traits that I want in a husband.” you were giving him a soft smile, one that made him shuffle on his seat cushion. He’s used to people yelling at him, disrespecting him, being complete dicks to him, but he was most certainly not used to this softness.

“You don’t know me, woman. I don’t get along with others, I prefer to be on my own and some say I have a bad character. Surely this isn’t what you want in a husband, rethink your decision, nobody would blame you for leaving me, I’m a lost cause anyways, nobody expects me to get married.”

“Haganezuka-sama, could you please stop insulting me? I know what I want ok? I like you, is that so hard to believe?”

You were both now standing, facing each other equally enraged by each claim, “Oh you think I’m insulting you? You haven’t gotten a sample of it yet even, prepare yourself, you have no idea what you signed up for, you…you ugly pigheaded woman!” his mask was fogging up with the steam he was blowing out of his nose, completely deranged at this point.

But you…

Oh…you were mad, alright.

How dare he call you such an awful thing after all the time you invested in dolling yourself up for him, this was outrageous.

He was screaming nonsense in your direction, a bad headache coming its way up your frontal lobe.

That’s when you saw your chance.

You’ve heard it from others in the tavern downtown, tickling this man was the only way to get him to shut up, that was his weakest point, an adorable one at that.

Tackling him to the ground, you sat on his hips, pinning him down with one hand on his chest, the other tickling his side at an insane speed.

He was so overwhelmed by the entire thing that his breathing became ragged quite fast, his strength quickly declining, giving you the chance to lift the mask off his face.

When he had your own so close to his, he could see the remaining tracks of angry tears down your beautiful face. It seems like he really hurt your feelings with his harsh words, and honestly that’s what he wanted to accomplish, but seeing your effort so up close made him feel bad for ruining everything.

Not only your clothing and hair accessories were probably bought for this encounter alone, he could see the amount of time getting in so many things must have taken, how your makeup was now ruined due to him, how even if you were tickling him and making him laugh to his death as a result, your expression was one of pain.

“I don’t have a pig face….” you were mumbling in between sniffs, your hands coming to a halt when you noticed his eye trained on your face. “You don’t….”

He sighed, getting you off of him gently, still trying to regain his breath. “Do you really want to, you know…marry me? Even when I’m like this?”

You nodded, wiping your face of any watery remains, “You’re the only man I’ve ever considered for my future. Am I…not to your liking…?” your eyes were on the floor, afraid of his response not being what you had hoped for.

“Ugh…you’re not half bad I guess, but how can I marry someone I don’t know? I get it, you’ve seen me around, you seem to know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you besides what I just gathered on your crazy stalkerish behavior.” his wording made you chuckle, the sadness filling your chest moving away on its own accord.

“Would you consider it after a few dates?” he groaned, reaching over for his discarded mask, covering his face with it once more.

“Just don’t make it awkward…you know where I live.” getting up, he headed over to his room, a weird feeling of expectation invading his confused self.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you asked him to consider your offer after going in a few dates, he honestly thought you’d be pestering him about it the very next day, yet it’s been a week since your last encounter and he hadn’t heard a word from you.

Tecchin thought his boy had ruined everything as usual, so he himself went to check on you, to try to convince you to take his actual son instead.

To his surprise, you were covered in rice flour from head to toe when he arrived at your residence, trying to master the art of pounding it into mochi.

Saying he was confused was an understatement, he thought you’d be heartbroken hiding away in a corner of the house, but you were very much busy, determination covering your face, it reminded him of Hotaru when he’s working, and so, he began to understand your line of thought when choosing a husband.

“(Y/N) dear, what on earth are you doing?”

“Oh, Tecchin-sama!! Sorry I didn’t see you there, I’ve been a bit busy. Who knew mitarashi dangos were so complicated to prepare.” so that’s what you were doing, he thought you’d been chasing chickens in the kitchen and had fallen into a sack of flour, that’s what you looked like at least.

“Why don’t you just buy them from the specialty store near my house?”

“Well, I wanted to show Haganezuka-sama I can be a good wife, so I thought of learning how to prepare his favorite dish, honestly I didn’t expect it to be this hard, but it’s been fun, I’m confident this batch will meet his expectations.” Tecchin was moved to tears, he’s never thought someone would be willing to go this far for that silly adoptive son of his, maybe you were really the one.

“I’m sure they’ll be perfect, dear. Please stop by the house to say hello when your done. Even if he denies it, I can see how restless Hotaru is, he’s most likely thinking you gave up on him.”

“I would never! I’ll go get myself ready as soon as the sauce is fully cooked!” knowing he was grumpy on your account made you smile to yourself, he’s so adorable, you wondered how nobody has noticed this as of yet, it’s so obvious to you it’s painful.

Thankfully, the treats ended up being better than you had expected, the sauce sweetened to perfection, the mochi gooey as it should be, the golden color from it indicated they had been cooked to perfection.

For your visit though this time you opted for a more relaxed fit, you wanted him to see you for who you really are and not some kind of kimono shop mannequin for sale. A pale pink yukata with scattered white lilies on the bottom, a soft braid threaded with wild flowers and only a bit of lip tint as makeup.

To any, you looked pretty ordinary, but when Haganezuka opened the door to your calling, his mask fell from his face on its own.

It was amusing how you looked even more beautiful with clearly less effort. If you looked like a doll before, you looked like some sort of goddess now, those you see painted in temples.

The natural glow of your skin, the rosy accent on your plush lips, the seemingly wild look the small flowers on your hair gave you, it was a bit too much for his brain to function properly. To this day, not even a single woman had caused this sort of reaction from this man, not even the ones from the red district, a day to remember for history books, the day Haganezuka Hotaru broke.

“Haganezuka-sama? Is something wrong?” he was just there flabbergasted while holding the door knob, looked like he was in some sort of trance-like state.

“Boy are you gonna let her go in or are you gonna keep her outside all evening? A storm is coming.” the warning seemed to snap him out of the weird feeling in his stomach, moving a side to let you in and quickly closing the door behind you, keeping his father’s prying eyes at bay.

“I apologize for taking this long, I wanted to bring a gift for you, but I didn’t know how to make it, so it took a while to master it.” your quiet fit of giggles made that awkward feeling creep back into his gut, his chest tightening, could it be possible he was going to have a heart attack just now? Man, what a pathetic way of dying…

You handed him a medium sized container, carefully wrapped in a beautiful cloth.

A gasp left his lips at the sight of way too many delightful balls of gooey goodness. “You made them yourself-?”

“I did. Hopefully they will be to your liking.”

Without wasting any time he dived in for a taste of what he assumes love tasted like. He’s eaten mitarashi dangos all his life but they’ve never been this good. He heard an old lady once saying love is what makes food taste good, guess she was right.

“Are they…good…?” he just nodded pushing a couple more into his mouth, causing you to giggle. “Take it easy, they’re all yours, nobody will take them away from you.” you leaned closer, gently removing the excess sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

Nobody’s ever been this intimate with him before, what he thought was weird though was how it almost felt natural, like this was just how things should be.

The container was soon emptier than you’ve ever seen it, he even licked the remains of sauce from it, leaving it sparkly clean.

His lazy bum was laying belly up on the tatami mat, trying his best to digest the enormous amount of sweets he just had. “You know? I made that many for them to last you an entire week. They lasted what, ten minutes?” the fond look you were giving him was making his belly hurt even more.

You noticed his discomfort and moved closer to his side, one of your hands reaching over to rub his swollen belly in adoration.

“I don’t get you, woman.”

“Would you stop calling me that? I have a name…” naming things make it hard to let them go later, that’s why he avoids calling others by their actual names.

“Then, I don’t get you, (Y/N)….” hearing your name falling from his lips felt foreign yet wonderfully, it made you smile.

“What is there to understand?”

“You’re too nice for a man like me…I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

“And what is it that I want?” the suggestive tone you were using was clouding his judgement, seems like he was a man after all.

“Well I don’t know…a husband?”

You shook your head, looking into his eyes, “I never wanted a husband, my father was the one that wanted me married with a prominent house, I on the other side, just want you.”

“So you don’t want to marry me then?” the disappointment lacing his words surprised the both of you, he didn’t know when it happened but he didn’t hate you that much anymore.

“Of course I do, silly. But I don’t want to marry you just because I want a husband. I want to marry you because I like you, because I want to spend the rest of my days with you…”

“Just because I have muscles now?” that made you laugh, opting to lay beside him on the floor, still rubbing his indigestion away.

“The muscles are just a bonus, I like your grumpy self a bit too much. Even if I have to tickle you on daily basis. But look! I’ve been here for a while now and I haven’t had to do it at all.”

“I guess you’re tolerable…”

“Does that mean you like me too? I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer me in formal dressing, or-“ he stopped your babbling by holding your face up by your chin, your eyes meeting his instantly. “I prefer you like this. You look real now, not like some sort of princess.” his honesty caught you off guard, the warmth of his hand sending tingles down your body.

“Well, I like you better like this too, without that mask and head wrap…relaxed and by my side…” you chuckled, nuzzling your face against his palm.

“Even if I have just one eye now?”

“I think it suits you, it gives you this mysterious look. I always thought guys with scars were hot, they’re like battle trophies, proof of how strong they are.” your fingers were gently caressing the severed eyelid, with such a gentle touch almost freezing the man to his spot.

“So next moon…”

“Wait, wait! I thought you wanted more dates before making a decision…” panicking, you sat up, worried you had taken too long learning the new skills needed in order to satisfy him and had lost your chances.

“Why wait? The old man is driving me crazy and those dangos gave you some extra points, I don’t think I need to think this further. If I have to marry someone, might as well take a woman this dedicated and effortlessly beautiful…” his last words were all slurred together in embarrassment, making your heart run wild within your bodily cavities.

He reached for your hand pulling you back down beside him, he already missed your belly rubs and not even five minutes had passed.

Maybe getting married wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe he should start paying attention to the outside world some more, he almost missed on this without noticing at all.

And maybe, just maybe, his heart was as happy as yours to finally find its other half.

The lonely firefly in the pond finally shone its brightest the moment he found his one and only match.

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Masterlist

[sharkboywrites]

"You're Just a Boy, You Are No Man, And Nobody You Know Will Understand"

Twst staff finding out stealth ftm reader is trans (platonic)

Reader is a trans man and implied to pass, misgendering, mentions of dysphoria and periods

A/N: Back with a part two to this post after the poll came out mostly positive. I really love the staff taking on a parental role to Yuu/player, its just so sweet.

Dire Crowley

Getting teleported to twisted Wonderland was a very difficult experience, and of first the first person you met, and the one causing most of the problems for you, was Crowley. As the headmage of the school, he had to do something with you and generally take care of you. it was only a matter of time before you had to tell him the truth.

This doesn't mean you avoided the inevitable conversation as much you could. You were able to go a few weeks without running into an issue, that being the dreadful natural process that comes once every month.

While you could run to Sam, there was the small issue of the right clothes to wear, after all boxers won't really cut it in this situation, so unfortunately you had to go to Crowley for the right things to wear.

It was definitely an uncomfortable situation , sitting in Crowley's office, having to explain the situation to him. He was also, clearly, made a bit uncomfortable by the situation, but as headmage of the school, it was his job to provide you with what you needed.

you could already sense that dreaded feeling coming in the back of your throat as you explained. You really didn't want to cry in front of him, it was embarrassing, but there was really nothing you could do to stop it. In all honesty, Crowley doesn't know how to react in this situation, he's not really good with comforting and all that, so he isn't sure what to do once you get up and leave once the conversation, tears threatening to pour from your eyes.

You do find the next day, however, the clothes you requested, although you're decently sure he made a guess on the sizing, and a small chocolate bar. A small note sat with the items, reading "You've been excused of all chores for this week, take the break you need". Truly a bird dad at heart, even when he's not good with the talking part.

Divus Crewel

While Crewel can be seen as, well, cruel, he's taken a liking to you as you've made your way into Night Raven College. Now obviously he hadn't thought much of Crowley, knowing he did the bare minimum keeping you at the school, but he didn't expect this.

Other than your school uniform and the clothes you showed up in, you really didn't have anything else to wear, and he was not having it. Of course once he found out he dragged you to the nearest clothing store. Caught up in his anger and disappointment with Crowley, he didn't see how nervous you actually were about getting new clothes.

It wasn't until you had to make decisions did he pick up on your hesitation. he was a bit pushy with trying to get you to pick out things, but it wasn't until it came to trying thing on he realized just why you were so hesitant about this whole thing. It really all had clicked the moment you had to actually try things on, but he had reassured you that everything was fine and took a different approach.

He started to prioritize clothes that would make you feel comfortable over the ones he thought looked fashionable, although don't doubt for a second fashion won't still be considered.

Once you're all done you've got a new wardrobe and Crewel understands you a lot better. After this there's very clear favoritism once in the classroom now, which Ace will complain about until the day he dies. But that's alright, it's worth it to put with the complaining now that Crewel's you're new dad figure who's willing to do anything to make you feel comfortable with the other boys

Mozus Trein

Out of all the staff at Night Raven College, professor Trein is the most of a dad, quite literally, after all he had three daughters. Because of this, he can pick up on those small things that make you different from the other male students at Night Raven College. While he had his assumptions, he never outright said anything. He decided it was none of his business, and that if you wanted him to know, you would come to him instead.

it was during one of his classes that he noticed you seemed really uncomfortable. Not just uncomfortable physically, but mentally. It looked like you were ready to burst into tears with one wrong move. When class ended, he told you to stay after.

In that moment it felt like everything had gotten so much worse. Had you messed up? Were you in trouble? That's really not something you could handle right now. but to your surprise, he asked if you were alright instead.

You couldn't help when you started to cry a bit at that moment, although you did your best to hold back as much of it as you could. this caught him off guard, he didn't want you to cry. After reassuring you that it was alright, you explained to him what was going on. You told him how you were trans, how you were trying so hard to hide it, and how dysphoria had really been eating away at you ever since you got there.

Fortunately, when raising his own daughters Trein had to comfort them plenty, so he was able to calm you down enough to once again reassure you that everything would be alright. He told you that if you had any issues, to come to him and that he wouldn't tell anyone if you didn't want to. if you wanted the rest of staff to know, he'd help you slowly come out.

After that, he's very attentive to you in class, always making sure you seem alright. He really just wans you to be okay, even if he doesn't know that much about being queer. he starts to see you as one of his kids, and he wants to protect and help you in any way he can.

Ashton Vargas

Out of all the teachers you weren't very exited to learn about your identity, it was Vargas. He's like the average intimidating man that you're not sure if you want him to know you're queer. his reaction would either be super supportive, or he'd be the most transphobic person you'd ever met. teaching gym, it was inevitable that he would eventually find out you were trans.

When it came to locker rooms, it was really a challenge. there was no way you could change with the rest of the guys, they'd figure it out in seconds, and no you can't get out of changing for gym. So you had to go to Vargas to ask if there was somewhere else you would be able to change. Of course, he made you explain. it wasn't in a mean way, but he wants to push every student to being the best version of themselves, and being too scared to change in a locker room was not going to help that, a least according to him.

So, you had to tell him. You explained to him that you were trans and not only were you not comfortable changing with the rest of the boys, it would be unsafe for you if in the room with the wrong person. he's very taken aback by this. he probably isn't the type of teacher to think about students being queer, not in a homophobic way, just not something he generally thought about. So he offered to let you use one of the bathrooms nearby, as long as you didn't tell anybody about it.

This does not mean, however, that he'll suddenly go easy on you. you're still expected to do the same exercises as the rest of the boys. you are a boy and therefore will be pushed just as hard as the rest of them. Sorry, no getting out of that one. Vargas doesn't really see you any differently. You're still one of his students and need to be pushed to your limits, no matter how much you may dislike it. In fact, this makes him even harder on you. he's strict about making sure you don't exercise in a binder and gives you work outs that would make you more physically masculine.

So congratulations, you're given even more work than all the other students, but it's in good intentions from Vargas.

Sam

In the end, it was inevitable that you would also have to go to Sam at some point. I mean those period products aren't gonna buy themselves. Even though it wasn't really an ideal situation, Sam seemed like the person who'd you'd rather come out to than everyone else.

He's a bit odd, but he doesn't seem like the type to be judgmental, although he might bug you a little bit about it, not in a mean way though, the way he does to everybody. He's a bit of a sassy guy and that isn't going to stop for you.

When you first ask if he has anything that could help, he simply laughs. yes, it's an odd request that he wasn't expecting, but of course he has some. In fact, he even has enough for you to pick out a preferred size of whatever it was that you wanted.

he doesn't tell anyone if you don't want him to, although when you show up, with friends or not, he'll make a few sly jokes about it. Not enough to out you, just enough to let you know that he knows, and it doesn't bother him at all.

this took me a lot longer than I thought I would, probably because I kept goofing off and getting on my phone instead of writing. I feel like Sam's part is really short but at this point I'm pretty tired and need a hot chocolate lol. ty for reading and have a nice day <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Another Lie || CL16 {5} - Charles' Ending

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, if you don’t want a Charles happy ending look away now and wait for the Max alternative! WC: 2.8k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || 5.1 blurb request

It was strange to be back after so long. It was strange to see that the Principality hadn’t changed at all. Upon reflection, the only difference was that you had. 

The gravel path crunched under your ballet flats as you followed the winding track to the lookout and found him sitting upon the wall looking out over his homeland. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Charles nearly fell off his perch with how fast he turned and you placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as he righted himself. 

“What…?” he trailed off in confusion as he stared at you in disbelief. 

Thanks to Instagram you had seen how his face had sharpened with age, heard how his voice had deepened too. And, from what interviews you had watched, even his thoughts and opinions had matured in recent times.

But he hadn’t seen the difference three years had made to you. You were never one to publicise your life and your Instagram was mostly used to keep up with other peoples life rather than display your own. He knew because he still checked.

“Your mum called.” He was still staring as you climbed the wall and took a seat beside him. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years.”

When Pascale had invited you to the anniversary of Hervé’s death she had assured you that Charles was aware and fine with it but given how shocked he still was at your arrival that didn’t appear to be true.

“Where’s Jules?” you asked, trying to get him to say something other than stare as you picked at the loose stones on the wall.

A smile curled his lips at the mention of his son before it lost some of its brilliance. “It’s Sapphire’s week with him. Wait, my mum has your number?”

“We’ve kept in touch over the years,” you admitted with a shrug. She had never forgotten your birthday and always wished you a Merry Christmas. “When she said you weren’t answering your phone I figured you’d be up here.”

“I just needed to clear my head for a bit,” he murmured as he peeled his eyes away from you and returned to watching the sun reflect on the picturesque Côte d’Azur. “With the custody battle, the busy race schedule and dad’s anniversary, it all got a little loud in here.” He tapped a ringed finger to his head and sighed. “I’m thinking about retiring.”

The stone in your fingers slipped and tumbled down your leg and into your shoe, irritating your foot as you tried to kick it back out. With a chuckle, Charles dropped off the wall and pulled your shoe off, flicking the stone out before slipping it back on. 

“Thanks,” you muttered as you still tried to process the information he had dumped on you. “Why would you retire? You’ve been doing great!”

He didn’t return to his seat beside you, instead he tipped his head back and closed his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “There’s something more important to me than winning now. I only get to see Jules every second week, and there’s 28 race weekends this year. There’s just not enough time to race and be the father I want to be for him, the one he deserves.”

When he opened his eyes you could already see the decision had been made, whether he knew it or not. 

“At least you can retire knowing you kept your promise,” you said as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. “You always swore you’d win a championship with Ferrari, even when no one else thought it was possible.”

His lips parted with a laugh as he kicked the rocks with his sneakers. “Wasn’t easy.”

“Nothing good is. But all that hard work and you never put the #1 on your livery…why?”

He shrugged and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I chose my number for a reason.”

He could have chosen sixteen for a number of reasons but he always said it was because your anniversary was the 16th of January, you first met in 2016 and one plus six equals seven - his lucky number. He was always looking for patterns in everyday things, he couldn’t help it. 

Your phone vibrated again with a reminder you hadn’t opened the message and you saw Pascale’s name, asking if you had found him. You quickly replied that you had and shoved it back in your pocket before hopping off the wall. 

“Come on, your mum’s probably worrying we’ll be late as usual and you’re my ride off this mountain.” 

“We?” he asked as he cocked an eyebrow up. “I was always ready on time, you were the one who made us late for everything.”

“That’s not how I see it, because as the driver, it’s your responsibility to get us to the destination on time.” 

It was effortless how easy the lighthearted teasing came without any of the biting remarks or bitter sarcasm that had tainted those last months of your relationship. This was, dare you say it, nice. You only hoped it could last because you had missed his friendship most of all. 

“How did you get here?” Charles asked when he looked around the carpark, only spotting a few older model cars alongside the latest Ferrari Purosangue.

“Arthur dropped me off after he picked me up from the airport.” You slipped into the luxury SUV and pouted as the engine started far quieter than the Pista. “Where’s my baby?”

“Gathering dust most of the time.” He nodded his head to the backseat and you looked over your shoulder. “She doesn’t fit a carseat.” 

“Of course, that makes sense.” You shook your head with a small laugh. “I can’t believe how practical you are now.”

“Having Jules changed me. The first time I held him, it was like everything came into focus, you know? I realised if I carried on like I was then he was going to see that behaviour as being okay, and it wasn’t okay.” He glanced across the car making eye contact with you. “I’m trying to be a better man, one he can be proud to call dad.”

Hervé would have been proud to see his family, smiles on their faces as they sat around the tables that had been pushed together to accommodate everyone, celebrating the life he had. 

Lorenzo’s family had grown by two and the toddlers were full of energy as they chased each other around the table; Arthur’s wife, Carla, also had one bundle of joy on the way; and Pascale looked at all of her sons with radiating pride. You almost shed a tear as you sat down for the family dinner after visiting Hervé’s memorial, the love and warmth that filled the Leclerc’s family home felt like the missing piece you hadn’t been able to find on all your travels.

“You okay?” Charles asked as he filled your glass up with the sweet lemonade Pascale had made for her grandchildren.

“For god sake, Charles, offer the woman a proper drink,” Pascale said as she passed a bottle of red wine down the table. 

“It’s okay, I don’t drink anymore,” you said as you passed it on to Lorenzo before returning your attention to Charles. “Do you still do this every month?”

He faked annoyance as he nodded but you could see how happy he was surrounded by his family. “Normally it would be when I have Jules but with the race calendar this month it just didn’t work out.”

The sun was beginning to set as you finished washing the last dish and passed it over to Charles to dry. From the living room you could hear Pascale reading to the children while their parents cleaned up the mess they had made and out on the back porch you could see Arthur and Carla sharing a moment as they watched the red sunset together. 

“I miss this,” you whispered before realising it had been aloud and Charles had heard. 

“Me too,” he sighed and stacked the plate in the cupboard. “How long are you staying?”

“Three days.”

His brows furrowed into a deep frown. “Is that all?”

“I do have a life,” you teased as you stole the dish towel from his shoulder to dry your hands.

“Does that include a boyfriend?”

The laughter faded and you shook your head. “No, there’s no one else.”

His eyes traced your lips and when you saw his tongue roll across his own you stepped back and swatted his arm with the damp towel. “Cut it out, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he lied through his cheeky smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed your handbag from the kitchen side. “I’m going to go now because this has been a really nice evening and I want to keep it that way.”

He swiped his car keys up just as quickly. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“My hotel is only a few blocks away.”

“Then let me walk you, please? These streets aren’t as safe as they used to be. I’ve been mugged twice.”

“Then why would I want a walking target next to me?”

“Shit,” he chewed his lip at his flawed argument and sighed. “Please? I’ll walk you to your door and that’s as far as I’ll go.”

He held his breath as you debated the offer before lifting your hand up, pinky raised. “To the door and no funny business.”

He linked your fingers and shook on it. “Pinky promise.”

It was almost midnight by the time you reached your door. The classic cinema along the way was playing a double feature of Humphrey Bogart and when Charles saw Casablanca was about to start he had hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and led the way inside. His smile dared you to argue but you had come to enjoy the black and white film whenever he had watched it.  

Hervé had loved to torture his sons by making them sit and watch the film at least five times a year as a family. You had only been there to witness it twice but it was clear despite the feeble grumbles they all had come to love it too, especially when Charles whispered the lines to you under his breath. 

When the lights had gone down in the theatre you had felt the heat of Charles’ arm as it shared the rest with yours between the seats. The projector flickered to life and the speakers crackled as the film began and you were thrown back in time.

You were immersed in the story when your hand was taken, the touch taking a moment to be noticed, and you looked down at your fingers laced between his before following the line of his sleeve until you reached his face.

His eyes were focused on you, and a sad smile played on his lips as he mouthed Rick’s line, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

By the end of the second feature you were hardly seeing what was on the screen. You could have left after Casablanca finished but there was a silent agreement that neither of you wanted the night to end. So you had remained in the dark room as most of the other patrons left and To Have and Have Not started, your hands still entwined on the arm rest.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” Charles asked as you stepped inside your hotel room and he stopped at the threshold, leaning against the frame with your hand still holding his.

You bit your lip to hide the smile that appeared. “If I do?”

“Cancel them.”

“Ohh, sorry, I can’t…I have a lunch date with the prettiest Leclerc.” His smirk grew and he nodded his head in agreement. “But you can join us, I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind.”

His jaw dropped before his head tipped back with a laugh. “I’d hate to be a third wheel. Maybe I can steal you for breakfast in the morning instead?”

You looked at the time on your phone and saw midnight tick over. “It’s morning now.” You took a step deeper into the room but your hand tugged tight against Charles where he remained firmly planted at the door, shaking his head.

“I made a promise, bella,” he said softly before pulling you back and into his arms so he could press his lips to your forehead. “I made you lots of promises, and I’m going to show you that I will keep them all…if you give me a chance.”

You tucked your head into the curve of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Three days,” you whispered. “That’s how long you have to show me the kind of man you are now.”

“That’s easy,” he said as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. “I wasn’t a man before. I was just an asshole who let the fame go straight to my head and lost something precious because of it.”

His words caused your stomach to flip and you looked up at him in a new light as you saw the pained look of regret in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“Ma bella,” he groaned, stepping out of your arms and towards the elevator. “Of course I want to come in, but I won’t. We have both changed. I want us to get to know one another again. Start afresh.”

You swallowed down the plea that was on your tongue because he was right. If you fell back into the same pattern like last time it would be stupid to think there would be a different outcome.

You wrapped your arms around yourself to keep from reaching for him as you conceded a nod. “Pick me up at 8am for breakfast?”

“It’s a date.” He started to walk backwards to the elevator like he was savouring every last second of seeing you in person and blew you a kiss as he hit the down arrow. It opened immediately and he looked a little disappointed as he stepped inside before a smile started to curl at the corners of his lips. “And just so you know, I am the prettiest Leclerc…until it is you.”

Three Years Later.

A gentle euphony echoed along the halls of the otherwise silent house and you wiped the sleep from your eyes as you padded barefoot down the staircase. It was far too early to be awake and even the birds had yet to rise with their songs as you passed the large glass doors that overlooked the dark waters of the Côté d’Azur.

With quiet footsteps you crept around the corner to the living room to find the reason why all the beds were empty.

Charles looked exhausted as he sat at the piano bench, his fingers moving slowly over the keys, drawing out each note a beat longer than they should. The retired racer’s jaw trembled with a suppressed yawn but his tired eyes were blinking less and less as he started to slump.

“How long have you been playing, love?” you asked as you sat beside him and brushed his hair back from his face. “The kids are fast asleep.”

“Really?” Charles turned with a groan to see Jules snoring on the sofa with his little sister tucked into his arms. “Melody’s crying woke him up.” He rose to his feet and cracked his back that had gone stiff from playing for hours. “I can’t wait for those teeth to just come through already.”

“You should have woken me.”

He bent in half, groaning at the protest in his back but he pushed through the pain so he could kiss you. “I need this, bella. I can’t feed her when she wakes in the night but I can play her lullaby. And you must have been tired if you didn’t hear her on the monitor.”

You followed your husband to the couch and gently scooped Melody into your arms, praying she was in a deep sleep, before carrying her back up to the nursery. Charles followed with Jules asleep in his arms and took his carbon copy to his bedroom beside Melody’s.

You both breathed a sigh of relief when you met in the hallway, the doors shutting on well-oiled hinges. There wasn't a single sound to disturb the kids as you crept back to your bedroom and Charles curled himself around your body.

“Goodnight, my sweet,” he murmured as he kissed your shoulder. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“You don’t have to thank me everyday,” you said with a smile at the regular bedtime routine.

You felt his smile against your skin. “I do, I’m thankful for you everyday and I always will be. Forever, just like I promised.”

Click here for the alternative ending (Max’s).

[kaiju-art-for-the-heart]

An Heir to the Throne: The Final Decision

Chapter 3:

It had been a week since the intense conversation between Mothra and Godzilla. The dynamic between the two didn't change, but the atmosphere most certainly did. Both Kaiju knew that at some point the subject would come up again, but neither knew when or how. 

As the nights and days passed by, Mothra quickly became impatient with the thought of them avoiding it. To take her mind off of everything, she planned a trip back to Hallow Earth to have some time to herself. As the new day came in, Godzilla was surprised to see Mothra awake along with him. His snout gently nuzzled into her fluff as he gets her attention. "Why are you awake so early my queen? Is something the matter?" he questions, worry obvious in his tone. She picks up on this and quickly nudges her head against him. "No my king, everything is fine. I will be traveling to Hallow Earth to check on the tribe. I will also make sure there's no trouble happening that may bubble up to the surface." she trills calmly, quickly easing Godzilla's previous thoughts. Mothra perched herself on top of Godzilla's back as they made their way out of the nest and down to the beach. 

"Please, be safe my queen." Godzilla huffs quietly, getting a small content chirp from her. "I will, my king." she assures him, laying her head onto his as their bioluminescence dances between them.  After saying their goodbyes, Mothra lifts herself into the sky as Godzilla made his way to the sea. They knew their time apart would be short, but necessary for the development of their current situation. 

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

It did not take long for the humans to catch onto Mothra's plans. She watched as they scrambled to catch up to her in their small metal birds, their curiosity amusing to her. As Mothra approached a shallow pool nearing an unmarked island, she braced herself as she dove head first into it. The process of getting from one world to the next was no sweat for her, but did take great effort for the poor humans wanting to follow. Within seconds Mothra was already adjusted, gliding effortlessly through the crisp morning air. Emitting a short warning cry, the queen quickly arrived to her destination. Thankfully, the silk barrier she had put up earlier was undisturbed.

Not wanting to break through it, Mothra decided to take a brisk stroll around the area for any signs of trouble. Her eyes scanned endlessly around the dense trees, rocky nearby mountains, and various critters scattered around. After a thorough search, everything seemed to be clear with no immediate danger present. As Mothra took to the sky again, the screech of a Giant Condor caught her attention. The large Kaiju traveled alongside her, crying feverishly at the opportunity to see the queen again. It had been many many years since Mothra had seen such a creature, its beauty was well developed since then. Though it reminded her of that treacherous traitor Rodan, she nodded humbly to her as a sign of respect. The Condor nodded in return before looking behind her, a gentle cry calling to them both as Mothra turned as well. An incredibly young hatchling had been trailing behind the two, trying its best to keep up with its mother as its obvious first time flying. The small condor turned to its mother for approval before approaching Mothra, screeching nervously as it bumps into one of her legs. Mothra chuckles at this before leaning down slightly, her bioluminescence glowing brightly as she helps calm the condors fears. It caws again, bumping clumsily into her forehead as a goodbye before heading back to its mother. 

As Mothra watched them both leave, slight envy gradually picked away at her. She wanted to feel the same pride and joy, the same happiness at the mere sight of her own offspring. Before she could let it consume her, Mothra turned away to start making the trek back home. She had been noticing more and more hatchlings appear recently, chalking it up to being that time of season. It was almost maddening, longing for the same life but knowing the road to it was almost impossible. In the midst of her thoughts, she remembered another encounter just before she left to be with Godzilla:

Mothra was saying her temporary goodbyes to the Iwi people, watching them crowd around her. Some sobbed at her departure, others cheered quietly for her return. As some were more outgoing than others, Mothra almost instantly noticed a young woman shuffling through the crowd. Lowering herself down to get a better look, the woman approaches the queen to present a small bundle of cloth. Mothra's eyes widen as the bundle unravels to reveal a newborn baby, its tiny delicate features encapsulated her. From that moment on, she could not get the idea of offspring out of her mind. 

As the sweltering heat of the day turned to a calm cool evening, Mothra had already found the portal, but halted herself from returning so soon. She felt almost at war with herself, debating if she should bring it up again or let it fester in her mind. After another brief flash back of the youngling from before, she made up her mind. This was now or never.

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

Godzilla had been swimming through the endless oceans, taking brief rests here and there and enjoying the opportunity to do what he wanted for the day. Even though the day was to himself, the wellbeing of his queen held firm at the back of his mind. He enjoyed returning home to check on her, and bringing her food and small gifts he found during his patrols. He knew he'd be seeing her later tonight, but still felt the nipping feeling of loneliness that he had forgotten about upon her arrival. 

Along with Mothra, the conversation from before also never left his mind. Previously, the presence of children was not something he was worried about. But the more he thought of it, the more it made sense to try. The strength and intelligence of their offspring would surpass every Kaiju inhabiting this planet. And to raise that hatchling would be quite prideful to him.  The more he let it linger, the more he agreed it to be something worth trying. 

Though the initial idea sounds wonderful, there are still con's to becoming parents of an interspecies kaiju. The hatchling could be far too underdeveloped or defective to the point of early death. If it somehow turned out ok, Godzilla would have to give up his free time, resources, and most of his sanity to care for the youngling. The humans would become much more pesky, and the danger of other kaiju potentially wanting to kill it would be much greater. Just the mere thought of it irritated Godzilla to pieces. 

Interrupting his thoughts, the familiar sound of a humpback whale caught his attention. At first, he thought it would be great to hunt for his own amusement. But the moment he got closer, his eyes locked onto a much smaller creature following behind it. The young whale calf swam carelessly around its mother, clicking and crying into the deep blue of the ocean below. Godzilla watched intently, recognizing that this was an incredibly rare occurrence to witness. Whales, much like kaiju, take quite a while to produce offspring. A tender call rang out from the calf to Godzilla as it noticed his presence. Though he was a good distance away, the calf could not comprehend just how large Godzilla truly was. The king found this amusing, and with a low growl, he successfully startled the young whale back to its mother.

Though he initially wanted to hunt, he felt it wrong to do so to a mother and her young.  Without a moment of hesitation, Godzilla backed away to head home. He could sense his queens return, and knew she'd be happier knowing why he came back empty handed. 

During this swim, he had made his final decision on the topic of offspring. Now, he just needed to figure out how to say it. 

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

Mothra sat quietly in their nest, her mind deeply lost in thought as she stared longingly to the open sky. It didn't take long for Godzilla to return home either, his quick movement reverbing through the island like an echoing cave. Mothra took a deep breath, turning to greet her king at the entrance with an excited trill. 

"How was the visit?" Godzilla questioned, settling in snuggly beside her. "It was wonderful. I saw many new creatures and ran into an old friend on the way." she purred, snuggling into his forearm. She asked him the same, to which he dismissed as the usual. After a moment of hesitation, Mothra found this to be the perfect opportunity to bring it up again. This time, she was as determined as ever.  

"Gojira.." she started, straightening herself out into a more serious position. "This is very important. I'm sorry to spring this on you now, but I need to know. Are you willing to mate with me or not?" 

"Yes my queen. I think its time we give it a try." 

"Please Gojira, I-.." she pauses, looking up at him with wide eyes. After a moment of stunned silence, her voice breaks slightly as she speaks. "You.. want to try? Are you serious?" she questions again, getting another confident yes from Godzilla. "You were right. Now is the best time to try. I'm willing to take the risks and.. I want to make you happy. Let us try for offspring, and bond as true mates while we raise them." 

Mothra sits and listens uninterrupted. As he speaks, a wave of relief and happiness wash over her as she crawls into Godzilla's arms. He looks down at her surprised for a moment before asking if she's ok, to which she nods. "I'm just... so relieved.." she sighs, feeling Godzilla begin to groom her neck and wings.

"Well I guess now the only thing I'm questioning is how are we going to do this?" he asks, getting a smug look from Mothra. "You'll be happy to know I've taken my time to change as well, making sure my current form is capable of bearing your offspring. Or at least, that's what I attempted. The only way to know is to try." she sighs, getting an intrigued huff from Godzilla. He gently licks her fluff again before nuzzling her. 

"Then I'm ready when you are to find out."  

[puhpandas]

GGY Week Day 2: Comfort

Gregory has to deal with his injury from trapping the mimic and everything else that comes with the experience after dealing with GGY and the Pizzaplex. His injury also took away one of his only escapes. Hurray.

Gregory didnt even get to finish his long, drawn out miserable groan before Vanessa opens the door to his room and comes inside.

He's still doing it when she shuts the door behind her and makes her way to his bed. He doesn't look away from his phone, which he's holding in his lap, even when she approaches.

She wordlessly ducks her head to look at what's on his screen, and when she gets a look at it, that's finally when he finishes.

He frowns, miserably looking at his phone screen. "The Soccer team seems to be having a great time without me."

It had been an impulsive decision one day at school (after he managed to get enrolled again) to join the team after he'd seen a flyer. It had made so much sense at the time. Gregory loved running, (and was very fast for his age), was good at kicking, although for the wrong reasons, and was very tired of being stuck inside with plenty of opportunities to remember everything terrible that's ever happened to him with no breaks.

Ness had been proud of him, that he'd taken a leap like that. Gregory knows how much Vanessa struggles with social interaction after Vanny. Gregory... he was afraid to join the team at first, not because of social anxiety, but for a completely different reason. Rab kept entering his mind, because the last time he made friends...

He... he had been tired of sitting around being nothing but afraid, though. So he did it anyway, and ignored all anxiety digging a hole in his stomach about Rab to try and prove himself wrong.

And it worked. He loved soccer, was great for his team, at least his teammates thought so, and was great with the other kids.

Besides school itself, it's one of the only things he has that gets him out. Out of everything. The house, his head, his funk... Its something important to him. It's a hobby that doesn't have an ulterior motive, like robotics does. He does that because hes good at it, likes it just fine, but also because Freddy needs a guy good with robots to give him the scheduled maintenance he needs to stay functional, and Gregory would sooner jump off the catwalks in Monty Golf than leave Freddy without that.

But soccer... he doesnt have an adult reason to be there. Its fun. He has friends there after so long of having none out of fear and a way to put all of his skills he learned for the wrong reasons to good use. He feels normal there. Like everything with Rab and Tony and Ellis and his parents can be pushed to the back of his mind to just. Have fun. Be a kid.

And now, he's stuck in bed.

It's a little harder to see with how the sunlight from his open blinds glares on his screen, but he gets it clear as day. The team sent him a Snap just to update him on how they're doing while Gregory is away. It's a picture of them on the field, uniforms dirty and cheeks scraped and smiles on their faces. He can feel the adrenaline and good kind of exhaustion through the screen, having experienced it.

Vanessa doesnt respond for a second, just nodding grimly and patting him on the leg. "Sorry to hear that." She says, all formal like she does. Then, "Would some ice cream make you feel better?"

Normally, he'd light up, but he hasnt felt it like that in a while. He nods anyway, a small smile on his face. "Of course."

She goes to the kitchen to make them some. While shes gone, he keeps staring at the picture, feeling the will to get back on the field so strongly but unable to.

When she comes back, it's with two big bowls of ice cream, one scoop for her, and three for Gregory. She knows him well. He takes it from her, once again not looking away from his phone.

She sits next to him on his double bed (one that Vanessa for some reason already had on hand in his room that looked like it hadn't been touched in years) and makes herself comfortable. He leans his head against the wall, his hair brushing up against stray peeling corners of drawings he has hung up.

He sighs through his nose, taking a bite of ice cream and looking through his friends Snap stories. It's all different pictures and point of views of happy faces and the soccer game.

Vanessa hums, looking over his shoulder and working away at her own ice cream. She swallows, then, "Hows your leg?"

Gregory frowns, looking at it. "Fine." He says, but he knows he should give Vanessa a better answer. "Okay, its... its healing good. I try to keep still, but it's hard. Especially because its itching all the time."

"...It doesn't hurt?" Vanessa asks after a second. Gregory can hear the worry in her tone, even though shes trying to hide it. He doesnt blame her. They'd both had worries about its severity when it had still been fresh.

An image of the bloody mess the wound had first been when he got it flashes in his mind, and he shoves it down just as quick. "No." He tells her honestly. "I mean. Besides the sore part... it seems fine."

Vanessa deflates ever so slightly next to him. He knows its relief; Its been this way for the past multiple weeks. Probably months by now. She smiles, although her eyes still look tired, and reaches over to lightly ruffle his hair. "That's good." She says. "Means you'll be able to get back to the field pretty soon."

He nods, but his heart must've not been in it, because then Vanessa is scrutinizing him. He keeps looking at his phone, sighing again. His brows furrow, and every time he sees that picture of the whole team, any will he has to get back on the field with his friends is snuffed out as quick as it comes. It's like he has a flame he's desperately kindling to keep alive, and then someone comes over and dumps a bucket of water on it. Its upsetting.

"How are you doing?" She then asks, nudging him.

Gregory jolts slightly, finally putting his phone down. He stares into his bowl of melting ice cream. "Um..."

He trails off, and Vanessa picks it back up. "Would you want to get back on the field if you could right now?"

Gregory gets taken off guard, gaping at Vanessa for a moment. She hit the nail right on the head. He shouldn't be suprised, at this point. She knows him better than himself, and same with him to her.

He sighs. "...No."

Gregory isnt looking at Vanessa, but can hear her spoon scraping against her bowl. "Why not?"

Gregory doesn't respond right away, just thinking about everything. "It--" He cuts himself off. "I... I'm not feeling it."

Vanessa doesn't respond, so Gregory keeps going. "What happened... it was really bad." He says. "Even if I didn't have this stupid injury, I dont think I'd just be able to..."

"To keep going with life like nothing happened?" Vanessa finishes for him. "I get it, Gregory. Okay? It was just like that for me when I was first freed."

A small bit of pride swells inside Gregory at hearing Vanessa able to talk about it so easily. She doesnt even stutter anymore. It's still not as easy for him. He looks over at her. "It was?"

She nods. "You and Freddy had time to adjust and process. But I..." She trails off, looking like shes remembering every bit. "I just had to keep going so I could make us money. I had to go back to work pretty quickly, and I just... wasnt ready for a routine yet."

Gregory frowns, fidgeting with the strap of his watch. "That sucks."

Vanessa nods. "Yeah." She agrees. "What you went through, Gregory... it's not just something you can brush past."

Gregory sighs through his nose, resignation souring his insides. Against his will, he feels his eyes burn. He thought he was done with this whole getting traumatized and healing stuff. He just wants it to be over. "...I know."

"What I mean is that it's okay to take some time." Vanessa tells him, setting a hand on his arm. "You may not want to, but forcing yourself is even worse than taking time away." She says. "Processing something enough to move past it takes time."

Gregory nods wordlessly, remembering going through regaining his memories on top of dealing with the Pizzaplex. It was awful. He'd just managed to get himself to reconsider hobbies he'd barely remembered having before everything Rab came rushing back, and then he hadn't wanted to anymore, having a whole new can of worms to deal with. A worse one.

He furrows his brows, his shoulders drooping. He doesn't want to do that again. Everything was going so good. He thought they'd finally moved past it.

And then that thing had to rear its ugly head, and Gregory had to use himself as bait just to trap it in a dark hole in the basement.

His leg twitches involuntarily, and he winces at how bad it really is. He forgets it, sometimes. How even though its healing, there'd been worries of lasting damage. How Gregory had just made friends and used his talents of running and fighting to his advantage to join a sport (which eased his worried of falling out of practice as well) and that could have been fully ripped away if his leg decided to heal wrong. (He wouldnt be able to run away anymore.)

How it wasnt an easy wound to explain to the hospital. How it had been made by an eight foot tall monster with big claws and a grudge against him who'd managed to reach a bit too far into a vent a bit too long, too long for Gregory to make it out. How it'd been all his worst nightmares and the cause of everything horrible that's ever happened to him and his family in one big package with a pretty bow and it had bored into him with its red eyes and its limbs had been too long and it'd gotten ahold of his leg and dug its claws into his flesh and ripped and he was sure he was going to die--

He snaps out of it, just barely managing to realize he was spiraling before it happened. He breaths slowly, realizing it had started to get erratic. He fidgets with his watch strap, keeping his gaze away from Vanessa.

Vanessa saw. She clearly did, or she wouldn't be looking at him all worried like she is right now. She doesnt need to say anything. He knows that what just happened alone is proof that he needs to take time off to process. No matter how miserable it makes him that this is happening again when he'd just wanted to finally move on--

His body jerks, and to his horror, he can feel his throat close up and his eyes burn. He frowns deeply, trying to wipe at his face before any tears can fall. It's stupid. It's all stupid.

But before he can shove it completely down, Vanessa puts hers and his bowl onto his nightstand, and shifts her body. "None of that." She tells him, soft as silk. Before he can react, shes carefully gathering him in her arms in a hug.

Gregory tries really hard to not let that be the water that breaks the dam. He stubbornly, even though he doesnt move away from the hug, tries to keep the tears from spilling.

But eventually, it comes out.

He cries silently; that's always how it's been, but not motionlessly. His shoulders shake and jerk as tears slip past his eyelashes, and he hugs Vanessa back.

"I know it sucks." Vanessa tells him, not trying to baby him or shush him, because she knows he hates that. "That you have to keep going through this stuff over and over--" Her own voice gets choked up, and he can hear her swallow. "And I'm-- I'm sorry. But you cant let it get to you."

Gregory sniffs, nodding against her chest. He gets what she means. He cant let it get to him, as in he cant let that thing win. He cant let it ruin all that hes built for himself-- they've built for themselves because it's hard. It was hard before. It was really, really hard. Knowing that he killed all those people. That his parents are dead and his whole life was destroyed and his friend that he'd had to watch bond with not-him got killed thinking he was betrayed.

But he got past it. He got better and healed and was able to code without curling up into a ball and hyperventilating, and draw the nightmares he had to process them. It had taken time, but he was better.

He snakes an arm back to wipe at his eyes. This? Compared to Rab? This is nothing. That thing with its glowing eyes and its claws and its tunnel deep gashes in his leg that almost ruined something great in his life is nothing--

Okay, so maybe it isnt nothing. But its nothing he cant handle. Hes nothing if not stubborn, and he isnt going to let that thing take away something else. Scars or not.

"Thanks." Gregory mumbles into Vanessa's shirt. "I needed that."

"You'll get back onto the field someday." Vanessa tells him, a hand in his hair. "And your friends are gonna dogpile you when you return and you'll be able to run and score as many goals as you want."

Gregory nods, squeezing her tighter. "I'll just have to make tons of robots in robotics for now."

Vanessa chuckles, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, kid." She says. "Go on and pick up a fourth talent while you're at it, dont you."

The tears stop falling, and the tracks dry on his cheeks as he pushes against the hug, shoving at Vanessa playfully. "Its not my fault you're talentless. Don't be jealous."

She pushes back at him, careful of his healing lower half, a grin on her face. "Says the boy currently under the blanket I hand sewed for him."

Gregory laughs, shoving and pulling and pushing at Vanessa, and her back. He may not feel one hundred percent right now, but who knows how fast itll take him to heal. Theres nothing saying he wont be ready by the time his leg heals. Maybe he'll reach a new record.

Almost taking no effort, he shoves down the reminder of high scores and records being associated with Rab immediately. Even quicker, he moves past it.

ao3 link

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, I know that I already reblogged @antianakin's post about why Anakin didn't need to murder an entire Tusken village because 2-3 of them killed his mom (original post here), but I just feel the need to talk about one of the most damning examples of why Anakin has no excuse for that response.

Post Order 66 Jedi/Clone interactions.

Let's just say, for the sake of the argument, that the entirety of the Tusken village--including the literal babies and children--all took part in the torture/murder of Shimi Skywalker. No exceptions.

Anakin's response to his mother's death is to murder everyone with no remorse or a second thought. Even when he confesses what he did to Padme, the RotS novel clearly shows that he doesn't actually feel bad about what he did. Most of his worry is about what others will think of him and, ironically, about how he's a "good Jedi" that should be better than this.

Now let's move on...

Every clone took part in Order 66 in some way.*

The clones murdered every single Jedi they could in cold blood (albeit without a choice), including the children, with only a miniscule few survivors. How many do we canonically have right now that didn't get captured and become Inquisitors? Obi-Wan, Quinlan, Cal, Caleb/Kanan, and Gungi are all I can think of at the moment.** That's 5 Jedi, out of thousands, that survived--and that's not even mentioning the destruction of their places of worship/cultural artifacts and the shitty propaganda spread about their culture.

* I'm not including the Bad Batch because, my own opinions about the show/characters/writing/etc. aside, we can all agree that the only reason their chips didn't activate was because they're Filoni's beloved OCs and he has a habit of trying to make his OCs "special" in some way.

** I'm not including Ahsoka in this because, like she says repeatedly as of Season 7 of TCW onward, she isn't a Jedi and doesn't see herself as such--and for the same reason I'm not including Grogu, since he's like...a Mandalorian apprentice now and not technically a Jedi. I'm also not including Luminara because she eventually gets captured and killed pretty early on and I'm trying to only include Jedi that are alive for a significant amount of time in the Imperial Era.

So, how do the Jedi treat the clones after they murder their entire family and destroy their culture? Let's look!

-----

Example One:

Obi-Wan Kenobi never learns about the inhibitor chips, as of current canon. He is 100% under the impression that Cody and the 212th (as well as all of the other clones) just up and betrayed him and the Order for no reason. He also watched the security tapes that, yes, showed Anakin killing children, but also would have shown the clones killing Jedi as well.

In the Kenobi show he runs into a clone veteran of the 501st--a veteran who, in all likelihood, probably stormed the Temple and was a part of its destruction.

Does he spit in the clone's face? Call him a murderer? Kill or harm him in any way?

Nope!

He gives the veteran some of his credits, even though it's made a point in the show that Obi-Wan is now working with limited funds and is very poor at this point in time. He doesn't have credits to spare and he is supposed to be looking for Leia, but he takes a moment to give some to someone who took part in the genocide of his people.

He also routinely thinks about Cody and the 212th in the comics! He remembers them fondly and still connects Cody to the feeling of hope, even though they tried to kill him! Even though he has no idea that they never wanted to!

-----

Example Two:

Kanan Jarrus/Caleb Dume knows about the inhibitor chips, but in Rebels it's made very clear that he thinks that it's just something the clones made up so that they didn't have to take responsibility for their actions.

In Rebels, Ahsoka makes the (objectively bad) decision to send Kanan out to find her "old friends" to help the rebellion.*** Kanan then finds out that her "old friends" are three clones, only after he gets there and sees them. He reacts in a panic and ignites his saber, clearly freaking out a bit.

*** I'll probably expand on this later, because I have a lot of opinions on this particular decision of hers, but anyway-

Does he try to hurt and/or kill them? Do they have to fight him off? Does he even lunge in their direction or deflect Wolffe's blaster bolt at him?

Again, nope!

He steps in front of Ezra in a defensive position and, when shot at by Wolffe, deflects the bolt into their ship. Then, when Ezra steps in and says that Ahsoka said to trust them, Kanan de-ignites his saber and they all have a conversation about them helping in the rebellion--even though Kanan clearly doesn't trust them at all and is dealing with his PTSD while being there. Eventually he even comes to get along with/trust Rex, albeit in later episodes.

-----

Example Three:

Gungi, in the Bad Batch, meets up with the Batch and immediately recognizes them as clones. Now, we don't know his opinion on them and their betrayal because it's never really expressed, but it's safe to assume that he has no idea about the chips (at least, until Tech tells him) and it's clear that he's very scared at that point in time.

What does he do?

He hides in the corner of the ship and is wary about the food they offer to him.

That's literally it.

And then later in the episode he works together with TBB and trusts them enough to let them help defend his village.

-----

So, even with most of the Jedi either having no idea about the chips or likely doubting that story, we're shown over and over again that the Jedi never seek revenge against the clones or try to kill them after Order 66. Even though their lives were ruined by what the clones did/took part in, they're never shown to be actively trying to cause them harm.

So there is literally no way you could possibly justify Anakin killing an entire village of Tuskens because of his mother's death, when--in arguably the same/a worse situation--the Jedi are actively shown not doing that.

[the-solar-system52]

I was listening to Sun's Help Wanted 2 voicelines again and noticed something interesting I wanna discuss (spoilers: Fazbear Entertainment is doing something shady again)

First, we need to clarify something. It pretty clear that our POV character in HW2 is an adult, and someone who works at Fazbear Entertainment. Once more, I think this minigame is supposed to be like a test simulation of how Sun would act around a child, which explains why we are a grown adult playing arts and crafts. And explains why there are no other children present. The player and Sun have to act out the situation of Arts and Crafts, as a test of some sorts, like employee training.

I think this is why Sun's personality is so inconsistent throughout the minigame. He will go from calling us his 'friend' to insulting us in a second. Sun isn't perfect, but I doubt this is how he would actually act around a child.

His personality is changing because some voicelines are him playing along with the role play, and pretending our POV character is a child. And the others are him going off-script and making jabs at Fazbear Entertainment by insulting us and our work.

This is also why he compliments our artwork and then proceeds to shred it. Because its not real, its just a role play, so there's no need to keep the artwork. I dont think he'd shred a real child's artwork. The player character probably isn't even offended by it.

No matter what DCA lore you believe, it always circles back to Sun being treated awfully by Fazbear Entertainment. Mainly, they refuse to properly fix the Moon problem and I think this explains some of Sun's weirdly out of character voicelines in this. His attitude probably stems from the fact our characters works for Fazbear Entertainment, and he has a huge grudge against the company and all who work there.

"Ha, I should turn off the lights myself."

"Do it again, and you're taking a nap."

Sun is absolutely terrified of the Moon and the dark. From all his other behaviours in other games, it doesn't make sense for him to joke about the lights going out and a child getting hurt. But if our POV character isn't a child, then it makes more sense. Since it's Fazbear Entertainment fault that Moon is so violent, he doesn't mind using some dark humour because he feels like the employee deserves it. Reaping what you sow, in a way. Sure our character is just an employee and doesn't make big decisions like that, but Sun doesn't know that and I don't really blame him for being distrusting to any adult human he meets.

A lot of people, mainly Moon fans, try to use that first line about the lights to reason that Sun isn't actually that scared of Moon. Because he can joke about it, which obviously means he would be willing to turn the lights off out of spite! And he isn't as afriad as we originally thought!

But if you listen past this line into other voicelines, you can see this obviously isn't true. At some point, Sun mentions that it will be naptime soon, and is obviously very scared. He pushes the player character to finish the art quicker and generally becomes more and more anxious and frustrated from that point onward. So it's clear he is still very afraid of Moon, and probably wouldn't be okay with our character getting murdered.

(Also, literally everything that happens in the hard mode of this level confirms this.)

Anyway, this is where it gets really interesting in context. Because when he mentions it's nearing naptime he says,

"Don't work in the dark, never work in the dark."

And then, after a second, adds

"You'll...hurt your eyes if you work in the dark."

This is obviously a cover-up as to the real reason you can't work in the dark, Moon. But it's not like this employee wouldn't already know about Moon.

(Probably my favourite peice of worldbuilding in SB is that Sun literally has a warning for Moon at the back of his head, so this cover-up isn't so the employee doesn't learn about Moon, because they obviously already have.)

But with the context that this is supposed to the employee acting out the role of a child, this made me realise something.

Fazbear Entertainment doesn't allow Sun to talk about Moon.

Listen to the line again, and tell me you don't hear it! It sounds like he just remembered the employee was in the room and had to add the excuse on quickly so he didn't get in trouble.

He never calls Moon by name, and always uses some sort of riddle or metaphor to explain what is happening to him. At first I thought that was just how he talked, but maybe it's because he's just not allowed to tell people whats going on!

He omniously warns Gregory to keep the lights on, but doesn't tell him why. Even when Gregory gets closer to the security desk he only says "that area is off limits" and doesn't try to explain how dire the situation really is.

Hell, even when the lights are out and he has nothing left to lose, he doesn't say anything direct about Moon that would help Gregory.

Maybe part of the reason he banned Gregory from the daycare is because he felt he had no other option, it would be pretty hard for Gregory to stay if Sun couldn't explain what just happened.

And you could make the argument that he's just trying not to freak out Gregory, but what about a situation where he has no hope of not freaking someone out? Why doesn't he say anything about Moon then, if he once again, doesn't have anything left to lose.

When he meets Cassie he says

"I am trapped in a nap!"

And in Help Wanted 2 he says

"He'll wake up if the lights go out."

Both use sleep as a metaphor for not being in control of the body, even though I highly doubt Moon is actually unconscious during these moments, since Moon always seems to know where is his target is, so I'm guessing he has Sun's memories.

Again in Ruin, he instructed Cassie to turn on the generators, warned her when it wasn't safe, and even sang a creepy metaphor-ridden version of Daisy Bell! And yet he never mentions Moon by name??

He also never mentions Eclipse by name, and instead just asks Cassie to make them "whole".

And in Help Wanted 2, there was no reason he couldn't properly explain the situation to the employee in the hard mode, since they weren't in the role play anymore.

For whatever reason, Fazbear Entertainment has pretty much brainwashed him to never directly mention Moon. I think this was probably to keep up the false narrative they have made with the Moondrop Candy posters that Moon is a good guy. And Sun telling the kids, or other people, the truth about Moon would be bad for publicity.

I feel really bad for Sun though, that he couldn't properly warn anyone if the lights were about to go out, or talk about his problems at all.

What I'm really interested in is if he has just been told not to say anything OR is there something in his coding literally stopping him from saying Moon's name. Like, if he tried, he would just go mute and not be able to talk.

Although the latter is an interesting concept, I don't think it's true.

First of all, Moon mentions Sun by name in his Ruin voicelines and I wouldn't really make sense for this coding to only apply to Sun.

Second of all, even if his code prevents him from talking about Moon, if he was really determined to say something, he could just use substitute words, write, draw, or in any other way communicate what he wants to say and bypass the coding.

No, I think it's a little more psychological. It could be possible Fazbear Entertainment has simply just told him to keep his mouth shut, and since they have control over everything in the Pizzaplex, he's too afraid to go against them. I wouldn't put it past them to threaten to turn the lights off if he speaks up either. Or to scrap him.

Sun has always had an irrational attachment to rules, which would also be explained by Fazbear Entertainments threats. He is determined to keep things clean in the Daycare, but his room is an absolute mess. He doesn't bat an eye at Gregory trespassing in the Pizzaplex at night, but does care when he goes into an "off limits" area. His hypocritical and confusing take on rules can be explained by these not actually being his real opinions, but just paranoid habits brought on Fazbear Entertainment's treatment of him.

"You're gonna get us in trouble..."

As far as we know, he doesn't have any friendships with the other animatronics. And besides Moon's patrols, Sun never seems to leave the daycare. Dudes just a paranoid loser with no friends. (real) This isolation could've been encouraged by Fazbear Entertainment's threats.

In conclusion, fuck Fazbear Entertainment and I hope the next game involves a robot uprising of sorts.

Edit: I have no clue how forgot this, but thank you to @technowingsgs for reminding me of Sun's line,

"Not me! The OTHER me!"

This is probably the most egregious and direct example of Sun refusing to say Moon's name. Since he's trying to tell Cassie that she needs to reboot Moon, but can't get away with just using a pronoun, he actually resorts to using an alias. Which may point more to the theory that its his coding that stops him from mentioning Moon, since hes ok with using an alternative name, but I'm not sure. But it could be a combination of factors.

I mean, I doubt its just that Sun doesn't know Moon's name. If MY name was SUN and I saw merch littered around the pizzaplex of a dude that looked like THIS:

Wouldn't exactly take a genius to come up with a name.

Also! A lot of people were confused at this line and didn't know why Cassie couldn't just reboot Sun in his AR body. So I want to attempt to explain what I think!

It seems that, since Moon is controlling their real body, Sun's consciousness has been pushed into the AR World. And the thing about the AR World is that it isn't exactly real. MXES can't hurt you when you take the mask off, because he doesn't have a physical body, he's more of an ghost or hologram. You can walk through walls, use portals, and enter arcade machines. Overall, it's seems to be some sort of non-physical unreality.

So the reason Sun tells you to reboot Moon and not him, is because he's really talking about his physical body and his AR body. If you tried to reboot him with the Vanny mask on, it simply wouldn't work!

This because you have to stick the fazwrench into his head, flip a switch, and that somehow merges Sun and Moon's code together into Eclipse. Their code is no doubt stored in a circuit board of some sorts, maybe even the one that's visible at the back of their head. All of these things are physical changes, that rely on the materials and mechanics inside his physical body. So if you tried to reboot him in a non-physical plane, it wouldn't do anything! Since AR Sun is more of a projection of his consciousness, like a ghost, and isn't fully connected to his corporeal body. Thus, the fazwrench couldn't reach the necessary code inside his circuit boards. That's why he asked you to turn the lights on, so Moon would freeze up and you could safely reach him.

That, and the game would be too easy if you didn't have to turn on the generators to freeze Moon! Sorry if that segment was too technical, I waffled on a bit.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 25 - Prompt: Bad @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 659 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Sirius shoved his way through the crowd with his gaze laser-focused on James’s dark, tousled curls. He needed an answer to this vitally important question right now and James was his moral compass. It was imperative that he check in before he made this decision.

“James!” he hissed, rushing to his best friend’s side. “Quick, what does it mean if I’m defending Remus to himself? Is that a bad sign?”

“What?”

Regulus glared from where he was snuggled under James’s chin. “It means you like him, which we already told you. Now, go tell him!”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

James sighed, then smoothed a hand over Regulus’s back. “He’s right though. You’re gone for him, mate. I don’t know why you’re defending him from himself, but that much I do know.”

“He was calling himself stupid and some other bullshite in Welsh I didn’t really understand, but was clearly ragging on himself and I couldn’t just stand there and let it go when-”

“Sirius!” Regulus snapped. “Go snog him and leave us alone.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth twice before a frustrated whine left his throat entirely of its own volition. “But he’s from here and I live-”

“So what? It’s fine! Now go, you obnoxious git! Before he sorts out that you can’t tie your shoelaces without James’s approval.”

“That’s not true-”

James reached out and squeezed Sirius’s shoulder. “Really, Sirius. We’ll figure it out. See if this thing with Remus is worth it, then hash out the details later, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Sirius spun around and squared his shoulders. He could do this. James believed he could do this, so he definitely…probably…could?

“Go!” Regulus shouted, kicking his bum.

He stumbled forward, then shot a glare at his brother, but Regulus was fully snogging James now. Sirius grumbled under his breath before approaching his Herculean task. It shouldn’t be this hard to ask Remus on a date. The bloke practically admitted to liking him too, just not in those exact words.

Just walk over there, ask him to have a drink, and see where it goes. Easy. He might even get a cheeky snog himself for the effort, which he did want. Ever since their not-a-date lunch a few days ago, he’d thought about kissing Remus.

Then why do I feel like I’m about to pass out?

Remus was still awkwardly bopping in a sea of couples, exactly where Sirius left him. His brown beanie was askew after his fidgeting with it and a few of those honey-dipped curls were matted to the sweat on the back of his neck. More than anything, he wanted to yank that ugly hat off of his head and stroke his fingers through all of that hair.

He's not even fit, but I still want him. That has to mean something, right?

Sirius inhaled deeply, then marched toward Remus with the confidence that fled earlier marginally renewed. James said they would figure it out, and that was as good as a promise coming from him. He could do this. He could have something real for once.

“Remus,” he said, inwardly cursing at the waver in his voice. Sirius cleared his throat and tried again when he skidded to a halt in front of the bloke. “Remus. I like you and even though we live an obscene distance from each other, I’d like to try…this.” He waved a hand between them and chewed the inside of his cheek.

“This?” Remus blinked slowly as his brows furrowed.

Shite! How am I already fucking it up?

“Oh…erm, dating. If you want to, of course. I’m not assuming that you do, or anything. Just asking, sort of,” he blathered, face flushing deeper by the second.

Flirting was second nature for him, yet he’d lost every ounce of his charisma the moment those pale green eyes met his. Sirius never fell apart like this over a bloke. He could charm the pants off of anyone with little effort. Men, women, or otherwise, it didn’t matter.

What is wrong with me?

Next Part>>>

[lfghughes]

Stay Forever

a/n: got a little barzy request about moving in and it’s been a long while since i got a barzal request

“Mmm, I don’t want to go to practice.” Mat stirred next to you, his fingertips traveling up and down your spine. You seconded his statement, last thing you wanted was for either of you to leave this bed especially when soon enough your time here would be coming to an end once again. Living in a different city had its challenges. It could definitely be worse but a three hour drive was still rough especially when it was mostly you making the drive.

Not that you were blaming him at all but during hockey season you understood he couldn’t just come and go as he pleased and there was no way that after a game he’d want to drive three hours to your place so you usually made the sacrifice. Again it could be worse but this was still tough. “Are you still planning on heading back home later today?” He asked and you could hear the tone in his voice was slightly on the down side. 

It would definitely be another week before you’d be able to make it back down since you had a few projects you needed to focus on this week and you knew Mat wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. “I’m probably going to head out as soon as you go to practice so I can beat the traffic.” You could still feel his finger tips on your skin as he cleared his throat slightly like if he was nervous.

“I’ve actually been thinking that maybe we should start thinking about maybe you moving in with me. That way you don’t have to drive as much and I mean there’s plenty of space here for you to work and do your own thing.” The idea was beautiful but there was also a big part of it that made you feel anxious. You had lived with an ex before and it clearly hadn’t ended well. Not that you saw yourself and Mat breaking up but living together changed a lot of things. 

You pulled away slightly from his touch and a frown grew on his lips. Immediately you felt the guilt settle in. “I don’t know, I have to think about it. I like my place, you know. I know it’s far but I’m not sure if I’m ready to change my life yet.” Maybe not the right set of words for this moment. “I mean I want to. It’s not that. I just…living together will change so many things and what if it’s not for the better.”

Luckily, Mathew knew all about your previous relationship and he knew how it affected you and the insecurities you had now so right away he knew why you were worried. “It’s going to be a change but not a big one. I mean you’re here pretty much every weekend but hey we can do a slow move in. Whatever makes you comfortable.” His expression had softened and you knew that he would let you take this at your pace which meant the world to you. “I really have to get to the rink, but just think about it. You already have a key and half your stuff is here but whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

With all that being said, Mat slipped out of the bed going off to his practice and leaving you with your thoughts. He had a point and even though it wasn’t ideal you could pay rent on your own place for a few more months until you were sure this was a good idea and once you felt more comfortable you could sign the lease over to someone else. You knew you could trust him but seeing how he was willing to move at a slower pace and the fact that even if you did say no he wouldn’t get angry made it so much easier to make a decision. You took out your phone sending out a quick text to him “What about we try this whole moving in thing next weekend?”

[roxannepolice]

hi!!! hows it goin i’m here to dump my thoughts about simm!master/lucy vs ten and martha cause i have MANY. also a disclaimer before i begin that i’m white and that likely does color my experience as a viewer compared to a BIPOC viewer. anyways: i’ll start with ten and martha because by sound of drums we’ve spent all season watching them and its that already established dynamic which i think lucy/saxon are meant to parallel in a way. you have ten very much still grieving rose and his entire planet, which makes him try and push away any new companions for a bit. but he’s still looking for - and i think needs, in a way - this kind of connection where he can depend on someone, and ideally they could depend on him. however. ten sucks at this second bit. for the entire season. so he’s in need of this connection despite not wanting any whatsoever, emotional intelligence completely out the window right now since he’s grieving x2, and martha unfortunately walks in right in the middle of this. so you get this dynamic really starting from i’d say the shakespeare code wherein martha is carrying a lot of the weight in their relationship. ten will entrust her with the most deeply personal shit (like his memories of gallifrey, his feelings on losing rose, even in 42 where he’s like "i’m scared i’m so scared" where he depends on martha for emotional support) and then when martha’s like hey can i get some support here or something ten’s like “uh sorry all out too busy being sad” i mean that's a bit exaggerated/summarized but thats the vibe they have. in the beginning he doesn't even admit she’s traveling with him! he’s all “just one trip” “just one more” and refuses to make a concrete decision that martha really needs him to make already. and despite this emotional unavailability shtick ten still relies on martha quite a bit! off the top of my head you have 42(martha freezing/unfreezing ten as he screams in pain), blink (they get sent back to the 1960s… and only martha gets a job???), and. human nature. wherein martha endures racial abuse alongside lesser shitty working conditions in order to ensure the doctor doesn't get his body possessed or something. and in the middle of it this human version of the doctor falls in love with another woman(after basically uh leading her on for the whole fucking season) (sure maybe unintentionally but that's not the point here) who. also was racist to her she's not even a nice person. and her only friend in this godawful place gets possessed. and human doctors a dick to her. and i think. i reflect on it and i come to the conclusion that ten very much does expect martha to just… do his job for him sometimes. handle all the dirty work like making sure human him doesn't get distracted or hurt or die. and still immediately after is like haha we are in 1960 now. i will not get a job what is that. why do you want me to “communicate” or “pull my weight” you’re traveling across space and time lol.

and the master and lucy are a darker extension of this dynamic that i actually haven't really seen people talk about much!! the master is very clear about why he married lucy, and there is no love/admiration/respect whatsoever in there. it is purely a means to an end - her family gets him influence, and she helps him carry out his plans. he gives nothing to lucy, only takes. which is in itself a mirror to ten & martha - the audience knows ten isn’t intending to be malicious in how he treats martha throughout the series, but when paralleled to lucy & the master i think you really get a sense of the harm this can cause down the line. what resentment this kind of dynamic can lead to. and ALL THE WHILE martha is walking the entire planet for a year to save all of humanity while ten hangs out aged 100 with his little tent & dog bowl & seething sorta-ex-husband-boyfriend-whatever. i mean he doesn't have the best time either but he also doesn't have to do that much and also is perhaps a bit too happy about not being the last time lord to fully grasp that hey, uh, humanity's in pretty dire straits right now. martha watches as the master turns earth into a living nightmare, slaughters millions of people on a whim, turns ten into a 900-year-old tweety bird, and tortures her family for a year, only for ten to go “guys dw i can fix him lol we’ll just live in the tardis for eternity together” as if she hadn't had to fight for that too. and ten is still shocked-pikachu-face when she goes “yeah no i’m leaving. i gotta get out.” and that is very much similar to lucy's moment in a way! where she sees the doctor forgiving(without really considering everybody else's opinion on the Past Year), martha's mom talked down from killing him, even Jack is talked down from his confusion at the whole idea, and i think in that moment she goes. okay. you guys can forgive. you guys can let him walk away having just taken, taken, taken everything without any repercussions. i meanwhile have this gun and two years of pent-up rage coursing through my veins. and both of these moments - martha leaving, lucy firing the gun - come at a shock to the doctor and the master. i mean you can see the master's little "oh" face when he gets shot. even if he plays it up like he expected it after i don't think he considered it before. and i think on a certain level neither really expected to be called out like this - ten because he’s got the emotional intelligence of a baseball bat, the master because he doesn’t think humans are capable of wiping their own asses - so in both of these moments in LoTL theyre like "wait i didn't know you could do that"

anyways tl;dr thats why i think lucy and the master are a darker parallel to the doctor and martha in their own way. which feeds into the rest of the finale where the master is just showing the natural extremes to who the doctor is - this is that toxic dependency taken to its natural worst possible place, where you treat someone as a tool rather than as a person. the master's generally a great foil to the doctor but the series 3 finale is just a fantastic example of it i think.

OMG, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts like this! And I love your thought process here so much.

First, absolutely, Martha is the case of right person, wrong time... which is probably what makes hers my favourite companion arc - as I like to put it she travelled through hell and pulled her Virgil (because yes, the Doctor absolutely always has this guide role that brings Virgil to mind, at least in companions' first episodes) to the Earthly Paradise in the process. There's a lot of debates going on about whether Ten was leading Martha on, because on the one hand - well, he's very clear he's not into her romantically, on the other - ok, bitch, you made it clear the kiss doesn't mean anything, but also you hit off with flirtatious winks and end showing off time travel while also casually showing off your Adam's apple. Yeah, a girl can make deductions. And you're right that this superficial frankness is mirrorred in Master's relation to Lucy - though if anything he's crrepily keen on playing a caring husband, what with the 100% performative hug he gives her while the Toclafane are hacking a journalist up. Though I suppose in his head this is what the Doctor does as well when they comfort their companions. And let's give it to Ten - when he said he's not going to let Martha *checks notes* fry in a small capsule in far space because of a sentient sun, he does bend head over tits and does as promised. But historically it has happened that the Doctor's reassurances were hollow (future, but kind of most painful in Twelve assuring Bill he's going to de-cybermanize her only to later admit yeah not really an option... considering Saxon was there to witness this, I wonder if he marked this in his Notebook (of Rassilon) of Spiting the Doctor).

Ten's handling of the chameleon arch is kind of pathetic, thanks for pointing that out! Like, ok - if the Family gets a whole Time Lord lifetime it is a genuine threat to the universe, but his attitude of oh I'm just going to spend three months as a human in a random timespace, what could possibly go wrong, and anyway, Martha will be there to clean up any mess? is a mess. I do like John Smith's romance with nurse Radfem, though, not in the sense of shipping them, but more of an appreciation of the concept: a classic victorian/edwardian romance, but when you look at it from the persective of a BIPOC servant... it kind of becomes apparent both parties are dickheads. This does tie back to the Master in a way, because I think... want to think... that by the time the Doctor went oh no, we're better than a tyrant maniac that spent a whole year destroying the planet and torturing everyone in the room specifically, so we're not going to execute him, I'm going to put him in my nice spaceship and we'll have nice cuddle movie evenings instead, she was already hardened by the fact that he put her in an (unintentionally) tailor made emotional torture room for three months only to later reveal oh yeah, I could absolutely have handled them all along. Is just higher moral ground, innit?

I guess as all best foils do, the clue lies in the diffrences, though, right? Both Martha and Lucy end up deeply disillusioned with their respective semi-immortal twinks from space, but in one case there is still a disillusioned friendship (Ten's surprised Pikachu face, excellent comparion) and in the other there's only hate - and for good reasons! And where the Doctor grows to really respect Martha (and I wouldn't say he started off dismissive, I mean he is impressed when she tells him oh no mister, a doctor isn't something you just are, you have to earn the title) and is not just saddened but... humbled?... by her leaving, the Master shows up in EoT and is like Hey, my widow, did you miss me, hope you haven't remarried, that would be awkward to explain in the registry office :D!

*sigh* I suppose this is why tensimm is so special to me. It's 20 seasons of foil dynamic condensed into 5 hours. It really shows how thin the difference between the Doctor and the Master is. And how in the right circumstances, including the loss of the handy mirror villain to show how things can go wrong, a madman with a box can turn into an eldritch horror deciding the future of the universe. So, again, thank you so much for poining out yet another excellent parallel!

[snoozepotato]

We’ll Be Fine -3- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns

Congratulations, I have gifted you a younger brother for this story!

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Summary: Your caught wearing an embarrassing outfit.

Part 3

~BUNNY SUIT~

Distinct knocking cuts through the droning hum of electronics, snapping you out of your trance and sending you bolting from your office.

Another round of deafening banging as you make your way to the front door. Louder this time a clear urgency on the other side. Rattling on its hinges from the force of each blow, tension builds in the back of your throat as you approach.

 Tentatively looking through the peephole to assess the situation. Eyes narrowing at the sight of your brother's distorted face through the fisheye lens, two of his ‘little’ friends from the other day stand not far behind. Opening the door without another thought, a decision you regret almost immediately.

“The fuck are you wearing?!” Bewildered words fire from your brother. For a split second you're confused by the wide-eyed stars you were receiving before it hit you.

“Oh,” letting out a soft gasp, realization taking hold as you look down, also taking in your appearance. You could have died on the spot if not for your sliver of pride.

Clad in a rather unflattering hooded white jumpsuit with built-in feet… Face nearly completely covered by a white mask which you promptly tuck under your chin. You're a sight to behold!

“Bunny suit,” you state plainly like it’s an everyday occurrence and step back into the space, avoiding eye contact.

To be fair in your current line of work it’s not uncommon to wear protective gear. Not for your own safety but to keep sensitive equipment free of particles from you and your clothes. Oh so fondly referred to as a ‘bunny suit’ by others in your field... But this wasn't normal for your current company.

An awkward pause hangs between the men left standing outside, the front door left wide open in an obvious invitation but they are all now feeling a bit uneasy.

“Started getting worried when you didn’t answer the door, I noticed you moved the spare key,” your brother calls, eventually trailing after you, the others following suit.

“Was gonna break it down,” Ghost interjects. Your brother shoots him a dirty look as if silently cursing him for telling you their plan. Luling Your head to the side to shoot the man a quick glance over your shoulder. In all honesty with how forceful they had been knocking on your door, you're surprised they didn't.

“I didn't hear the knocking at first, sorry.” You turn from the three men standing in your flat, at least they didn't just barge in this time. Even so, their ability to show up at the most inconvenient times is beyond you.

“You seem busy, whatcha up to?” Soap inquiries, shooting you a crooked smile as he settles onto a sofa in the neighboring sitting area.

Making your way into the small kitchen you remove your gloves and mask, discarding them into a nearby waste bin. Happy to be rid of the constricting gear as you take a deep breath, thinking over how to answer.

“Freelance work,” you state plainly, deliberately being as vague as possible.

“Better be nothing illegal,” grumbles your brother, plopping down next to Soap on the sofa.

“Psh, don't worry about it,” you mutter, trying to lightly laugh the comment off.

“Debug!” He snaps

Turning to face him you reach up to pull back the thin material of your hood, letting out a deep breath. Suppressing the strong urge to roll your eyes at his mistrust, instead shooting him a narrowed stare.

“Calm down, it’s not... Just recovering some paranoid guy's corrupted hard drives, I set up a clean room in my office.” you motion down at your attire. This was already more than you wanted to share on the subject.

“I was just finishing up,” pausing a moment you shift your gaze between them “Why are you here anyway?” You suddenly ask, delighted to find a way to drop the topic of your work.

“Checking on you…” The sheepish statement sounds more like a question.

“Real reason?” arm cross brow quirked, you knew better than to trust that answer.

There's a long pause before he looks over at you sheepishly, a sly smirk spreading across his face.

“Baked goods…” he mutters and you can't help but let out a soft laugh.

“Ya, I thought so, check the kitchen,” you remark, making your way across the room and down the short hall, reaching for the door across from your office. Pausing, you glance around the corner at the mountain still standing near the doorway.

“Ghost,” you projected at him, the man's attention now completely on you. Catching his intense stare for a moment, you beam.

“Make sure he shares,” cheeky words uttered as the door is pulled open and you disappear behind it.

Ghost is left standing there looking off towards where she vanished, stuck pondering that wide grin she'd just flashed him. Maybe she wasn't scared of him… Why was this a relief?

 The door to her office is left hanging open, the man's prying eyes catching a glimpse inside. One wall is dedicated to server racks, an organized chaos of cords strewn around the environment, loud humming emitting from the space. No wonder she didn't hear them knocking.

That's some serious hardware, what's going on here?

Thanks so very much for reading <3

@tallrock35

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Fifty Seven

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

As ever, thank you so so much for your love on this fic. It means so much.

This chapter contains a conversation I've been planning on them to have since Emily had Lily back in Chapter 40!!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.2k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She barely speaks to him on the way home, her eyes fixed out of the window as he drives, his spare hand fixed on her thigh. Her demeanour changes the moment they pick up Lily from daycare, a switch he’d be surprised by if he didn’t know her so well, her ability to compartmentalise second to none. 

Their evening at home is relatively normal. She feeds Lily and he then gives the baby her bath, the weight of grief that had been heavy on his chest for days lessening as his little girl giggles as she splashes water at him, her smile already the same as Emily’s. Once they’ve put Lily down to sleep the happy facade shatters, broken shards of it on the floor around them as they both sit on the couch, the baby monitor occasionally crackling from its place on the coffee table. 

Emily doesn’t know how to feel. Her emotions are wrought, overwhelming in a way she hates, as the doctor’s words play round and round in her head like a grim tape she can’t switch off. She wonders if it’s better this way, that the decision was taken out of her hands even though, in her heart of hearts, she knows what she would have done. 

“What would you have wanted to do?” She asks, the question surprising her almost as much as it does Aaron. They’d been sitting in silence ever since Lily had fallen asleep, the minutes stretching out into hours as they sat in their grief and sadness, “If…if I hadn’t lost it what would you have wanted to do?” 

He looks at her, his eyes fixed on her profile as she continues to look straight ahead, her gaze lingering on a picture of Lily when she was a newborn - the photo taken in the hospital when Emily held her for the first time. He isn’t sure how to answer the question, not wanting to upset her any more than she’d already been upset, but he’d never lied to her, had made a promise a long time ago that he never would, so he sighs, his gaze dropping to his lap as he speaks. 

“It’s your body, Em,” he says carefully, “It would have been your call.” 

She snaps her head to look at him, anger she knows he doesn’t deserve thrumming under her skin as he unknowingly repeats a phrase she’d heard in two pivotal moments of her life. The first when she was pregnant at 15, coached by Matthew who was the same age as her, the assurance that she could do what she wanted strange coming from someone whose voice had only just broken. The second was a surgeon when they confirmed she was a match to donate her liver to her mother, a reassurance that she didn’t have to do it, even though Emily truly felt like there was no other choice. 

She doesn’t want pleasantries from him. She wants the truth. Wants to know what he would have wanted if they had been left to make the call themselves. 

“Aaron,” she says, clenching her teeth slightly when he looks up at her, “Please tell me. I…” she clears her throat and shakes her head, “I need to know.” 

He maintains eye contact with her, and the desperation in her eyes makes him ache. He swallows thickly, trying to push down the lump in his throat, and he blows out a steady breath. 

“I would have wanted to do whatever was safest for you,” he says, the thought of losing her, something he’d had to consider more than once over the years, almost too much to bear, “I need you, Lily and Jack do, I can’t risk that,” he can’t read her face, can’t see what she’s thinking and he hates it. He clears his throat and looks down at his lap, “I wouldn’t have forced you to do anything you didn’t want to, but I would have wanted to listen to the doctor.” 

Even though she knew that was what he would say it still makes her suck in a harsh breath, her lungs too full of sadness and grief and misplaced anger to fully let it settle, forcing it back out in a humourless laugh. 

“You sure came to that decision quickly.” 

It’s unkind and she knows it, but it was easier to be mad at him because she knows he loves her, that he’d forgive her. She could feel the anger brewing like a storm in the bottom of her gut, making it twist and ache in a way she’d become painfully accustomed to over the last week or so. She knew, if she was really angry at anyone, it was at herself. At her doctor. At the universe for putting her in this position, the collision of her past and present that had left her feeling so unsteady. 

He clenches his jaw at her response, irritation making his body tight and his nerves start to fray. She wants an argument and he knows it. He’d loved her long enough to know this was how she dealt with things, how she put off actually feeling what she needed to feel. He’d barely slept in a week, spending his time either worried about her or making sure she was okay, hardly giving himself time to think about what he’d lost too. Suddenly he’s overwhelmed with memories, with the longest hour of his life as he waited outside an operating room as Emily had emergency surgery to have Lily, his fear that he might lose one or both of them something that still would wake him sometimes in the night.  

Later, when he looks back, he’d know that’s why he said what he says next, his turbulent emotions winning out over his usual ability to not bite at that bait dangled in front of him.

“It’s not the first time I’ve had to consider it.” 

His words hang over them, heavy and suffocating as they suck all of the air out of the room. Emily stares at him, her lips pressed together as he stops talking, any other comment stuck in his chest. 

“What does that mean?” 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and he wishes he could unsay it, that he could take his comment back, but he can’t. “When you went down for your c-section I pulled the doctor aside, and I asked her if she could only save one of you, to save you.” 

It feels like a blow to her chest, winding her as she struggles to suck in a breath. She frowns as she looks at him, the mere thought of it enough to make her put a bit more space between them. 

“You…” she chokes on a sound between a laugh and a sob, “You asked them to do what?” She asks, her voice dripping with something so close to disgust, something that makes him clench his teeth even harder, “What about our little girl-”

“Don’t you dare imply I don’t love our daughter,” he says, cutting her off before she can say something they both know she’d regret. He looks at her, his gaze fierce, unyielding in a way he hadn’t looked at her in since long before they fell in love, “I’d die for her, for both of you, you know that. But I didn’t know her then. I knew you. And I…” he drifts off, clenching his jaw as tears press at the back of his eyes, “I can’t lose you, Em. You’re the love of my life. And god help me, I’d say the same thing tomorrow if I had to. You’re the most important thing in any of these situations. Even more so now Lily is here. It’s not just me anymore. She needs you too.” 

She watches as a tear slips free from his lashline, painting a treacherous path down his cheek. All the righteous anger she’d felt disappears so quickly that she physically wilts, her shoulders sagging as she looks at him. 

“Honey,” she says, shifting towards him, closing the gap she’d created. She places her hand over his and squeezes, her heart aching even more when he doesn’t look at her, doesn’t squeeze back, “I’m sorry. I know you love her, I know that,” she says, squeezing his hand again, “It’s just…you never told me that before.” 

They’d never talked about it in any depth beyond an initial conversation once she and Lily were home from the hospital. Aaron had never told her anything in any real detail from his point of view. Instead, he’d simply been there for her. Helped her through her physical, and mental, recovery from a labour that hadn’t been anywhere near what she wanted it to be. She feels guilty for not checking in on him more, for not thinking about how he felt after it all happened because she was so wrapped up in the exhaustion of having a newborn. 

She didn’t have to imagine how it felt to sit in a hallway as the person you loved was in surgery. It was something she was intimately familiar with, a kind of fear she wouldn’t wish on anyone, let alone the man she loves. 

He smiles at her. It’s crooked, self-deprecating, and not the smile she knows and loves. But it’s something, and it warms her up from the inside out regardless. 

“It’s not something that just comes up,” he says, squeezing her hand, his jaw tight as another tear slips free. She reaches up and wipes it away, her touch delicate against his skin. He turns his head to kiss her palm. She shifts closer to him so she’s tucked up against him, settling into his side as he wraps his arms around her, an edge of desperation to his embrace. “I…I can’t lose you, sweetheart.”

She lifts their joint hands and kisses his knuckles, “I know,” she says, kissing his hand again before she clasps it in both of hers. She rubs circles on his skin with her thumb, hoping she can press her love for him into his skin, that it’s something he can carry with him everywhere, “I can’t lose you either.” 

It had been 18 months since Foyet had attacked Aaron. Their lives had changed so much since then. They had bought a house and got married, they had a little girl. Despite all that, there were moments when she felt like she was still right there, outside his old apartment with her gun in her hands as she heard Foyet taunt him. She still struggled sometimes when he didn’t answer his phone, when a little too much time lapsed between contact. Those precious few minutes she’d spent talking to Penelope that night enough to leave him permanently scared, something she still felt guilty about even now. 

In comparison to when she had Lily, what happened with Foyet was a lifetime ago. Aaron was still processing it all, and maybe he always would be. She knows it’s something they’ll face when they do decide to have another child in the future, her fear of losing another pregnancy she knows she won’t shift, the comparison between Rome and now something that was forever solidified in her brain, alongside his fear of what would happen when the baby was born.

She knew they’d get through it just like they did everything else - together. 

“I know it would have been the right call,” she says, tears pressing at the back of her eyes, “It wouldn’t have been easy, but I would have done it. For you, for Lily and Jack,” she sighs and her chin trembles, “I spent the last week trying not to compare all of this to Rome,” she says, pressing her hand to her abdomen, “I was even the same meds for fuck sake,” she shakes her head, “I guess I just always hoped it wasn’t a decision I'd have to consider if I ever met someone and started a family.” 

He pulls her closer so she’s all but in his lap, her legs swinging over his as he holds her tighter, his lips against her forehead, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

She turns her head to kiss his jaw, “It’s not your fault,” she pulls back to look at him, her eyes shining and her smile faint, “Although we are going to have to be careful since we really do seem to be the most fertile couple on the planet.” 

He chokes out a laugh, the sound wet as it catches in his chest, and he nods, pressing his lips against her forehead fiercely, “We’ll figure it out. I’ll go buy condoms in that pharmacy down the street with the smart-mouthed teenager on the checkout.” 

She nods and smiles, leaning in to stamp her lips against his, “I love you.”

He presses his forehead against hers and cups the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, “I love you too.” 

She knew that as long as she had him and their family, she could make it through anything. 

-x-

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