#admission of guilt aside

[dailydemonspotlight]

Yoshitsune - Day 40

Race: Wargod

Alignment: Light-Neutral

May 16th, 2024

Can you believe it guys? Twinks! Just a week away! Everyone knows Yoshitsune, everyone loves Yoshitsune- he's one of the most popular demons in the series for good reason, and in celebration of reaching 40 days of this series, I've decided to give him today's spotlight. Our resident prettyboy has a boatload of lore to get into, so without any further ado, let's get to the spotlight! Today's demon of the day is likely in everyone's top 10 list of demons, that being the ancient Japanese general of the Heian era, Minamoto no Yoshitsune!

During the late Heian era, a certain clan was incredibly prominent, one with a lot of political backing as being parts of the imperial family who weren't parts of the line of succession, instead being nobles. This clan, the Minamoto clan, commonly competed in the realm of politics with their contemporaries in the three other 'Great Clans,' those being the Fujiwara, Taira, and Tachibana (no relation to Yakuza 0) clans. Even now, the clan still persists in Japanese politics, albeit less prominent. In that clan, though, was a commander whose skill rose him to the level of a living legend- Yoshitsune no Minamoto, a man known as the epitome of the Samurai.

Yoshitsune no Minamoto, also simply known as Yoshitsune, was an incredibly powerful figure feared and respected by people all around. He was vital during the Genpei War as one of the most important figures leading the battles involved, helping his half-brother Yoritomo rise to power, though that isn't even close to the extent of the things that Yoshitsune got up to. According to legend, he managed to defeat the legendary monk-warrior Benkei, a man of equal prowess to him, whereafter Benkei offered to become his retainer. After this, he served his clan with utmost loyalty, being a leading commander throughout a power struggle with the Taira clan, who had usurped the supreme title of the emperor.

Yoshitsune's accomplishments during this war are stories and incredible, and, if anything, there are likely several anime about every little thing he achieved. Eventually, after he led the Minamoto clan to crush the Taira in the war with several historic victories, he was granted the Ōmi province to govern. Since then, he spent his days as a respected warrior-leader, though came into conflict with that same brother he helped earlier, Yoritomo. His half-brother suspected that something was up with Yoshitsune's rise, revoking all of his power in the army- however, in revenge, Yoshitsune declared war on the other Minamoto with allyship with his uncle, Yukiie no Minamoto. It didn't end that well.

Yoshitsune was forced on the run alongside his wife carrying an unborn child, but as she was captured, he couldn't make much of a move anymore as to not incur the wrath of his half-brother. He took to living a solitary life under disguise with the assistance of the son of a man leading the village, Hidehira no Fujiwara, but put under pressure by Yoritomo, he was eventually found and put to death. Yoshitsune's retainers were slaughtered in the night, including Benkei, and the samurai was put to death- wherein he took his own life via Seppuku.

I'm sure I don't need to explain why Yoshitsune is such a popular figure- his tale follows a format almost storybook-like, a man so unstoppable yet killed at last via a betrayal by his brother. It's a tale that has been retold time and time again, and for good reason, as it feels like one straight from a manga. There is a lot to his story that I couldn't cover in a short DDS, unfortunately, but overall he's a legendary figure for a reason. Some theories even purport that he faked his death and ended up becoming Genghis goddamn Khan, but these are more just people trying to come up with ways that Yoshitsune could have escaped his imminent death. His tale alone, however, is more than enough imo. Regardless, how is he portrayed in SMT?

Really well! While he's portrayed as rather skinny, his garb and face paint are very samurai adjacent, and his design is iconic for a reason. His usefulness in gameplay, too, also cannot go understated- he's one of the most powerful personas in Persona 4, per instance, as his signature move can completely obliterate almost anything. Yoshitsune is beloved, and we love Yoshitsune. It's almost impossible to point out any flaws with his design, as he would be a downright perfect main character to an SMT manga focused around demons. Shit, he already kinda is, appearing prominently in the Raidou Kuzunoha manga!

Overall, with his strong story, design brimming with that 'it' factor, prowess in gameplay, and everything inbetween, it's no wonder that Yoshitsune is one of the most popular and prominent demons in the series, and one of my favorites as well. I mean, who doesn't love this guy? The sheer flair of his design alone is enough to make him cool, even outside of the insane amounts of lore behind him. Yoshitsune is something of a creature to me, and I'm sure you can see why.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter eighteen

Summary: "Can we talk?"

Warning: It's a Bucky and Cry Baby-only chapter.

Word Count: 791

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A/N: My heart. Now do you understand why this had to be its own chapter? Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez

For a moment, you hesitated, uncertainty gnawed at your mind as took in his demeanor and appearance. Yet, something compelled you to nod, stepping aside to grant him entry. 

Bucky stepped inside, his eyes boring into you as you closed the door and turned toward him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, his eyes searching for answers you weren’t sure how to give. 

His question hung in the air as you took a deep breath the tension in the room began to amplify as you met his gaze. “Why does it matter?” you counted, your voice laced with an unexpected defiance. 

“Because I care about you,” he replied, his voice filled with frustration and something more vulnerable. “You’re my…” he paused to sigh. “You’re my friend, and I had to find out this way? In the middle of a bar fight?” 

Running a hand through your hair, you tried to collect your thoughts. “I didn’t think it was a big deal, James. We were just… enjoying ourselves.” 

Bucky’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he stepped closer. “You didn’t think it was a big deal? You didn’t think it ‘mattered’ to tell me you have a boyfriend? “ he questioned as his body loomed over you. “Everyone else knew before me… Steve, Nat… Sam! Why was I the last to know?” 

“It wasn’t some big secret,” you sighed, a feeling of guilt surging within you. “They just found out over time.” 

“It’s me, though,” Bucky insisted, his voice edged with hurt. “I thought we were closer than this.” 

“Closer?” you echoed, your voice softening. “Why didn’t you tell me about Leah?” you asked, a hint of hurt now evident in your voice. 

“This isn’t about Leah,” he snapped, his voice rising. “It’s about you keeping things from me!”

His raised voice echoed off the walls, an oppressive weight filling the room. You flinched at the volume, his words crashing down on you. You took a step back, his presence feeling suffocating. 

“James, try to understand,” you pleaded, desperation crept into your tone. “It wasn’t…”

“Stop calling me James!” he roared, reverberating around the small apartment. Your words seemed only to stoke the flames of his anger. His chest heaved with each ragged breath.

You pushed back against his anger. “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you began, your voice becoming steadier by the word. “But you disappeared for weeks without a word, and again, you didn’t tell me about Leah, either!”

If you had blinked, you would have missed the flicker of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced again by anger. “That’s not the same thing,” he snapped, his voice sharp.

“It IS the same thing,” you insisted, you weren’t backing down. “You shut me out, Bucky. You left that night and didn’t come back, and then you came back and everything was different.” 

Bucky’s jaw clenched, for a moment it looked like he was struggling to find a response. His fists balled at his sides. “I had my reasons,” he muttered. 

Your frustration boiled over, the emotions you had bottled up for so long now began erupting like a tsunami. “What reasons could you possibly have to justify any of this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. 

But no explanation came, instead, he turned away from you, his shoulders sagging. For a moment, the apartment fell silent. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

His admission only fueled your emotions. “You don’t know?” you repeated. “After everything we’ve been through, you owe me more than…” 

Before you could finish your sentence, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a desperate, frantic kiss. One hand found its way to your waist the other, to your face. He pulled you closer to him as if he needed to erase the distance. 

For a moment, you were lost. The sensation of his lips against yours, the taste of him, your senses became overwhelmed. 

As the kiss deepened, you responded, your hands reaching up his chest, clenching his shirt in your fists, pulling him closer. But, the doubts lingered at the back of your mind. 

When you finally pulled away, your breath became ragged as you gasped, struggling to make sense of what had happened. His gaze met yours, searching for something, anything. You couldn’t find the words to express the emotions swirling inside you. 

His eyes filled with remorse, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes beginning to well. “I never meant to hurt you.” 

You nodded slightly. “I know,” you replied softly, the weight of the evening washing over you. “But you did.” 

There were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend what was lost between you.

---

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[eelnoise]

caveat

zoro x afab reader

c/w: choking, slight cum play, praise, use of the word 'slut', oral sex (both giving and receiving), unprotected sex, soft!zoro, slightly possessive zoro

a/n: i put my whole pussy into this because i'm so biblically down bad for this man. someday i'll figure out how best to format my fics but until then please take this sloppy setup

word count: 2849

Zoro prefers you close. He prefers to see you, to hear you. Hell, even just knowing you’re in a room with him is enough - provided you’re in his vicinity. Much like his swords, you’re precious to him. He needs to protect and care for you, to keep you pristine and without blemish. 

And just like his blades, you’re nearly always at his side.

You don’t mind at all. You’re sated to indulge in what you know means a lot to Zoro, so you find yourself in the training room alongside him, curled up on a bench with a book open in your lap. 

This quality time usually comes with a caveat - Zoro’s inexplicable and hungry arousal after a workout.

Zoro doesn't notice the shift in his body, the way his heart pounds in his chest, or the way his cock hardens against his thigh. He's too focused on his training, too absorbed in the rhythm of his breathing and the burn in his muscles. 

Of course, when Zoro's attention turns away from his own breathlessness and toward the source of his arousal. His eyes lock onto you, taking note of the book in your lap and wondering how long until you set it aside for something else. Something naughtier. His gaze holds for several long moments before Zoro finally breaks the silence.

"You know," he says gruffly, voice roughened by exertion, "it might help if you stopped pretending to read that damn book." His tone is teasing but there's an undercurrent of desire in his words - a clear indication that he wants nothing more than to see you put down those pages and come crawling to him instead.

You look over at him and tilt your head in interest. "Pretending?" You reply, a bemused look etched onto your face. "And why would I be doing that?"

Zoro smirks, his teeth flashing white against the backdrop of his tan skin. "Oh, we both know you haven't turned a page for a while," he says casually, leaning back on the weightlifting bench with nonchalance. "What's the matter? Lost in thought?" 

Damn him and his observation haki.

He pauses, letting his gaze drift down to the curve of your breasts before snapping it back up again. "Or maybe you just enjoy watching me sweat." A slow grin spreads across his features as he waits for a response, anticipation coiling tightly within him.

Your guilt is plastered upon your face at his words and a warmth that hadn't been there prior now washes over your cheeks. You'd been caught staring, and staring at him while he's this horny was not exactly the wisest decision. The flustered expression you give him makes his cock twitch almost painfully. 

"Fine." You admit, closing the book and placing it to the side. "I was watching. So what?" 

Zoro's smirk grows wider at your admission, a dark and predatory gleam lighting up his eyes. "So what?" he echoes, voice low and throaty. "Well, since you asked..." 

Without further warning, Zoro pushes himself off the weightlifting bench, his muscular form moving with surprising grace and fluidity. In a single, almost impetuous motion, he's on his feet before you, towering over with his intimidating presence. His hand reaches out, fingers curling gently around your chin as he tilts your head back to meet his gaze. "I think it's time we found out just how much you like watching me sweat." Zoro says, his voice now little more than a rough whisper.

With that, he descends upon you, his lips crashing down onto yours in a possessive, hungry kiss. His tongue darts out to claim your mouth, demanding entry as he presses his hardened length against your soft stomach.

You allow him entry, tongues quickly meeting in a lustrous dance. You taste even better when he's this worked up, and he wasn't about to take it for granted. At the sound of a soft mewl from your lips between breathless, wet kisses, Zoro has to fight the urge to take you there and then. 

No. He wants to savor this, to savor you.

The sound of your arousal sends a shiver down Zoro's spine, fueling the fire burning deep within him. He moans low in his throat, his hand sliding up your back to grasp at your hair, pulling gently on those silken strands. 

Without breaking the kiss, Zoro steps back, drawing you along with him. His other hand reaches down, grabbing at the hem of your shirt and pulling it upwards in one swift motion. The fabric rides over your head, revealing the skin of your torso. His eyes drink in the sight of your smooth soft stomach, hardened nipples peeking through your bra clearly visible even beneath the thin material.

A growl rumbles low in his throat as he trails his fingers lightly over your skin, tracing lazy patterns that send shivers down your spine. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "And all mine."

"Yeah?" You coo, your sultry tone undeniable. "You want this pretty girl to scream your name?" You know that you're in no position to ask this question, simply teasing him is enough to drive him fucking crazy when he's this rabid for you. And the more you do it, the harder he'll fuck you.

But he isn't in the mood for your game this time. As far as Zoro is concerned he's going to fuck you until you can't see straight anyway.

"You already know the answer to that question." Zoro growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your skin. With that, he spins you around, taking a seat on the bench in your stead. His hands slide down your hips, tracing slow circles as he teases the fabric of your panties. "On your knees," he commands, his voice a dark rasp.

Zoro's heart is racing now, his blood pounding in his ears as he watches you comply, deliciously delicate form kneeling before him. You look up at him through your lashes, a challenging glint in your eyes that does nothing to dampen his arousal.

"Spread your legs," He demands, the rough tone of his voice alone causes you to sigh in arousal. "Show me how much you want this."

You do as you're told, spreading your thighs and pulling your panties to the side, glistening pussy on display and offering yourself to him. "Mmm," You purr, gaze glassed over with lust. "Wanna make you feel so good, baby."

Zoro watches each word leave you in slow motion, transfixed on how each syllable curls off your pretty lips. Before he can think, he's freeing himself from the confines of his shorts and letting his thick, desperate cock fall right into your face.

Zoro groans deeply, his hips jerking forward as he feels the heat of your breath against his engorged shaft. It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to come right then and there, your eager anticipation driving him wild.

He watches, his heart pounding in his chest, as you lower your head and take him into your mouth. Your lips slide smoothly over the head of his cock, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through his entire body. Zoro's hands come to rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not quite enough to hold you in place.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice ragged with desire. "You're so good at this."

With that, he pushes gently against your head, urging you to take more of him. Zoro watches as you obediently open your mouth wider, taking him deeper into your throat. Wet, sloppy sounds echo around the room, fueling his lust even further.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his hips starting to rock gently against your face. "Sucking me so well like the good little slut you are."

Your eyes don't leave his, even as you bob your head up and down, each pleased groan of pleasure or soft words of praise sending out a pang of arousal right to your desperate, weeping pussy. You run your tongue flat against the underside of his length and swirl it around the tip. The mix of saliva and pre-cum coats your busy lips and drips down both your chin and his cock.

He allows for you to pull back for a moment to take a breath, long strands of fluids attaching your mouth to his cock. It's just a moment, though, for as soon as you've recovered he forces your head back down onto him with a forceful motion. You gag around him from the sudden filling of your throat, but he loves the sound.

"Fuck," he breathes out, tangling his fist into your hair and beginning to move your head at his own pace. "Gonna let me cum on that face, right baby?"

"Mhmmm~" You hum, making his dick vibrate from the tone. He grunts in reply, shoving your head right against his pelvis, nose buried in moss green hair as the back of your throat is hit over and over again. Zoro's free hand moves to the front of your neck, grasping it tightly to feel the outline of his cock rut into your warm, slick mouth.

Tears beat at the corners of your eyes and your fingers dig into his thighs as he nears his release. Zoro's hold tightens around you, his soft grunts of pleasure having turned into louder, filthier moans.

Suddenly, he pulls your lips from him with a wet pop and a whine. He holds you in place by your hair - pressing his cock tip to your swollen bottom lip, and instinctively you lull your tongue out against it.

"Shit," Zoro hisses out when you plant a series of open-mouth kisses on it, quickly moving to pump himself with his other hand. "You want my cum in your mouth?"

"Please," you whine, throat a little rasp from how greedily he had face fucked you. "Wanna taste you; need you on my tongue~" 

Your words send him over the edge. Zoro tugs at your hair tightly as long, drawn out, and slightly whimpered moans fall from his lips. Thick, white ropes of his spend coat your face and tongue while his hips slowly grind out his high. You, without question, swallow the pool of his seed in your mouth.

"Fuck, baby," Zoro growls, rubbing in the cum on your lips with the head of his dick. "You look so good painted in my cum." He leans forward, releasing his grip on your head, eye taking in your used, messy appearance as if committing it to memory.

Zoro snatches you up then, grabbing you by the hands and swapping your positions so that you’re now sitting on the bench. "Lean back," he demands, tone gruff and low as he hovers over you. "Show me that pretty pussy." 

You oblige, of course, leaning on your lower back and spreading your legs open to him like a gift before sliding your panties down, leaving them hooked around your ankle. Zoro grabs onto your thighs with large, calloused hands and spreads your pussy lips open with his thumbs. Without warning he lunges forward, capturing your clit in his mouth with a hungry moan. 

He's devouring you, eating you like he would a peach. Zoro slurps your clit loudly and inches two fingers inside your soaked folds. "Fuck!" You cry out, your own digits teasing your nipples. "Feels so good, Zoro~" 

His mouth works over you so fucking good that you're already on the precipice of your release. He's flicking his tongue and lapping at your sensitive flesh, your hips buck forward along his lips, coating them in your wetness. Zoro groans against you, vibrating your soaked folds and thrusting his fingers deep within you, curling them so deliciously against your g-spot.

"You like this?" He grunts, taking your cunt-flavored juices greedily. "Tell me what you want." 

"Wanna cum!" You sputter out, voice rasp and quivering. "Wanna cum so bad, please…" You're begging. Desperate cries for your sweet release ring in his ears and he absolutely loves it. 

Zoro drills his digits into you harder, feeling just how your inner walls flutter around them. "Gonna make you cum, baby." He growls, taking your moans as encouragement. With a series of hard sucks to your clit, you come undone. A sharp, high-pitched scream emits from your throat, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Zoro says, pulling away from your pussy and leaning over your sweaty, heaving form. "So fucking pretty." He reaches forward, using the fingers that had been deep in your cunt to wipe some of his leftover cum from your cheek before sliding the digits into your open, willing mouth and forcing the taste of you both onto your tongue. You suck on his fingers, licking them clean. 

Then, with one sudden move, his lips are on yours in a fiery, passionate kiss. Zoro doesn't care about the leftover cum smeared across your soft lips, and you don't care about the taste of yourself on his. The kiss is messy, it's sloppy and it's full of teeth and tongue, but as long as you're tethered to him, as he's bound to you, nothing else seems to matter. 

Zoro breaks the kiss, but his lips rest just on top of yours. "Think you're ready for my cock now, baby?" He asks, though he knows the answer and you know just how hard he's about to fuck you. 

"Fuck," You sputter out, feeling his dick twitch against your slit. "So ready. Need you to fuck me so badly~" Your words are weak, and your voice is raspy, but the look on your face tells him that you're genuine. Genuine and ready for him to fill you.

Zoro smirks, his eye gleaming with lust. "Then take it." He says roughly, shoving his thick cock into you with one quick motion. You gasp, body arching off the bench as he buries himself into your pussy to the hilt. "So fucking tight." Zoro hisses, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to move, thrusting his hips forward in a steady rhythm that has you crying and clawing at him in absolute ecstasy. 

Large hands dig into your hips - and you already know that by the end of this, you'll be marked with ten fingertip-sized bruises. Zoro's movements become more frantic, his growls and low grunts of pleasure meeting your salacious cries and whimpers in a cacophony of your entwining lust. Your pussy milks his cock and it makes his eyes roll back into his head with how fucking good you feel, how warm and tight you are around him, how perfect you are. 

Zoro grits his teeth, jaw tensing in an attempt to avoid cumming too quickly. But it's hard, so, so hard to not let go and fill you with his seed like the good little cumdump that you are. He picks up speed, forgoing whatever rhythm he had going as he loses himself in the sensation of fucking you. 

The tip of his cock hits your cervix hard, each slam of his hips into yours making you see stars. "Zorooooo~~~" you wail, completely cock-drunk with a glazed-over expression. His heavy balls slap against your ass and echo throughout the room as he drills himself into you at a nigh inhuman pace.

The only word left in your vocabulary seems to just be his name, judging by the jumbled, quavering mantra of disjointed syllables that fall from your swollen lips. He can't take it any longer. The way you're calling for him, crying his name over and over as he bottoms out in you without mercy - it's all too much. "Fuck!" Zoro hisses, his death grip on your hips somehow tightening. "Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna cum right inside your tight little pussy."

You feel his muscles tense, and with a loud cry of your own name as a warning, Zoro erupts into you, head thrown backward and hips jerking violently while his cock throbs and fills your pussy to the brim with cum - so much that it surprises you.

"Fuck." Zoro pants, collapsing onto you as his chest heaves from exertion. He presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, heart racing from the intensity of their intimacy. "So good."

As you catch your breath, you hold him close. Both of your chests are flush together, and you swear that you can feel his heartbeat. Arms wrap around his broad shoulders, one of your hands slipping into his hair to gently caress his scalp in a comforting way. Zoro hums in satisfaction as your soothing embrace works wonders for both his mind and aching body.

“Thank you.” Zoro breathes softly into the crook of your neck, his voice barely higher than a whisper. He knows he doesn’t need to thank you, but he wants to. You kiss the top of his head and smile.

“Zoro,” You begin, your voice soft and sweet. “I love you.”

He looks up at you then, one slate-gray eye shining with affection. He smiles.

“I love you, too.”

[blood-starved-beast]

NEMESIS!!!!!

Jokes aside people focus a lot on how mean Nem is and yeah!! She's mean and clearly covets Mel's job but also if you look at her life philosophy it all makes sense.

Cause as Retribution Incarnate, Nemesis's whole deal is that you reap what you sow. If you experienced consequences, you did something to invoke them. Hence why she argues with Moros over the Fates and their influence vs. one's autonomy in that one conversation. It's also why she resents Mel having the job to save the House of Hades so much.

Mel never did anything to deserve this job. She's going out there, with the weight of everyone's expectations, worked up af, dying a billion times cause she was told she ought to. She didn't fail like Hecate did, it's not her official reason to exist like Nemesis herself. The only "crime" Mel did to deserve such a "fate" was being born to Persephone and Hades. Which is why Nem says the job isn't "personal" for Mel - Mel has done nothing (for good or bad) that warrants such a punishment - the scrutiny, the bloodshed, the agony etc.

It contextualizes the animosity between her and Hecate so much. We know Hecate failed as handmaiden to warn Nyx (or so Nemesis accuses her of) and we know Hecate couldn't save the House other than take Mel, Hypnos, and the unfinished family portrait (her own admission). From Nem's perspective, Hecate's the one who deserves punishment more, yet she's fostering the responsibility onto Mel.

It also contextualizes why Nem is so self-loathing about the whole arrangement too. If by her admission, one reaps what they sought re: consequences, what does it mean then, that she herself is stuck in the Crossroads on guard duty? What has she done to reap this? It's probably why she accepts the job even though she hates it. Sidenote: after the Nem + Hecate fight, Mel would have a conversation with Nemesis about it. She asks what did she get for her "insubordination" and Nem's like "heh. more guard duty." but not particularly mad about it. She knew what she did, what the consequences would be. Cause of course she knows.

Anyways, this whole thing is a long ramble to say - Nemesis has a lot of hidden depths besides her asshole-ishness. I do think all her insults and jabs at Mel are thinly veiled concern for her situation (I mean, she's constantly pointing out where Mel is lacking - scrawny, not personal, not deserving of it, etc. and being like "does anyone else think this is fucked up??") while also thinking it should be her responsibility instead. I mean, does Nemesis carry guilt about not being there to stop Chronos I wonder?

[all-risejd]

A New Judgement Chapter 13: Braiding Challah and Some Morning Snuggles (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.  Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 12.5.

Warnings: Smut below, not too graphic but there are hand necklaces and biting involved as well as talk of the loss of a loved one.

Nessa pulls up to Rhea's house after finally getting the groceries she promised. She turns off the car and sits there a moment trying to process what happened in the last hour or so. Nessa bites her lip deciding to not bring up the weird coffee shop experience and sends a message to the group text calling everyone out to help her bring in the groceries. One by one they all jog out of the house. Damien is out first and goes to hug Nessa, the rest of them surrounding her, hugging her in relief.

“We were so worried Nessa, we couldn’t get a hold of you and thought something happened.” Damian is the first to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Nessa says her voice muffled by Damian's chest and she wiggles trying to get some space and air. Everyone thankfully notices and takes a step back still surrounding Nessa.

“I’m so sorry guys, a storm came out of nowhere and I couldn’t see to safely drive so I parked and ran into the nearest building which was a coffee shop and there was like no service for some reason and I waited out the storm and then I forgot where I parked for a bit.” Nessa blushes, embarrassed at the admission.

“Then please next time ask someone to use their phone or even the business phone to just let us know you are ok and what is going on. Like Luis said we were worried sick!” Rhea gently pushes Nessa on her shoulder, the rest of them making sounds of agreement.

“Ok, I will I promise.” Nessa holds her hands up in surrender before gesturing towards the car.

“Can you guys please help me get the groceries in before they spoil? There is cold stuff in there and I want to get to starting dinner.” Damian kisses Nessa's forehead and hugs her one more time and Nessa can feel that he is relieved she is safe and can see the tension still in his body, in all their bodies they were so worried for her and she fills with guilt. Rhea grabs Nessa’s hand to stop her from going to help the boys carry in the groceries. Nessa looks at Rhea who shakes her head and kisses Nessa’s hand.

“Let them carry it in, I need some Nessa time. You promised to let me help you cook so let's go set up the kitchen while they bring everything in.” Rhea asks and Nessa nods and heads into the house pulling Nessa with her. The boys following behind grumbling.

“Hey, I thought you only went to the store for a few things,” Dominik complains loudly. Nessa looks over her shoulder as Rhea still continues to pull her along.

“We are here for a few days so I got a few day's worth of food for 3 grown ass men one of which doesn’t eat carbs, one that eats super healthy and constantly to keep up with his workouts, and you know how you eat; so I planned for those few days so everyone's dietary needs are met,” Nessa answers back yelping as Rhea pulls a little too hard on her arm bringing her through the doorway. Rhea looks guilty at hearing Nessa yelp.

“I’m sorry Bunny, I didn't mean to pull that hard!” Rhea apologizes and releases Nessa’s arm.

“It’s fine Dems, I know you didn’t mean to.” Nessa accepts the apology immediately and grabs Rhea's hand again and together they walk to the kitchen and the boys set all the bags on the counter. They all turn to walk away and Rhea clears her throat.

“Can you help us put this stuff up while we get started?” Rhea cocks her head and the boys grumble but they do as asked while Nessa sets aside the ingredients she needs.

“Ok, thank you.” Nessa grabs Dominik's hand and pulls him into a hug before placing a kiss on his lips and doing the same for Damian.

“Come here Luv?” Finn holds out his arms and Nessa steps into them wrapping her own around his waist. He tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer and whispering in her ear. “We are glad you are ok. I am glad you are ok,” He pats the back of her head before breaking the hold he has on her.

“Thank you Finny, If you guys are ok with it can you leave me alone with Dems for a while? I’ll bring you plates when it is done.” Nessa asks and informs them.

“No Nes call us we will get our own plates, you are cooking for all of us the least we can do is get our own plates.” Dominik shakes his head and the others make noises of agreement.

Nessa starts waving them away, “Fine but get out of my kitchen,” she continues to shoo them, not noticing the smile they were sharing with each other. Nessa waits until the boys are clear out of the kitchen before turning to Rhea.

“Ok, Dems start the oven then zest and juice the orange and then soak the raisins in the orange juice, I’ll start the noodles.” Nessa gently instructs as she starts to make the dough for Challah and sets it on top of the stove to proof while the Kugel bakes. Nessa grabs a few Lunchables from the fridge that she bought and sits down on the floor leaning against the counters facing the oven and pats the ground next to her for Rhea to join her.

“Come on Mami, we have about an hour or so before we braid the Challah and put it in when the Kugel is out. We will put the Kugel in the warmer while the bread bakes. I’ll have you braid it.” Nessa smiles and offers a Lunchable to Rhea who returns the smile and joins her on the floor grabbing the Lunchable.

“When we lose someone we love or anyone in general we say to each other and to family may their memory be for a blessing. We sit low on cushions or on the ground to signify how low our grief takes us and we eat stuff like cheese and fruit and talk about the memory of the one we lost. For immediate family we are supposed to stay home for a week after the funeral.” Nessa explains grabbing Rhea's hand and leaning her head on Rhea's shoulder. Nessa feels Rhea's body start to shake in silent sobs and Nessa runs her other hand up and down Rhea's arm in a calming gesture just letting her cry. After a few minutes, Rhea calms down and sniffles, laying her head on top of Nessa’s. “Tell me more about your Nonna sweetheart,” Nessa asks, squeezing Rhea's hand gently which Rhea returns by lifting their hands to her mouth and placing a kiss on the back of Nessa’s hand.

“She… She… She used to let me help her in the kitchen. Especially after I had a rough day with my self-worth and mean comments. Much like this actually.” Rhea starts off weak, her voice getting stronger.

“I’m glad I could do something to keep her memory alive. Tell me more if you would like?” Nessa prompts.

“How about we both share memories of people we lost… please,” Rhea asks and Nessa nods Rhea's head still laying on hers.

“Ok, when I lost my brother in January I was gutted. I went no contact because he couldn’t stay clean from drugs and was stealing from Mom. But I loved him, that was my brother and I had to mourn what we could have had as well as the life that was lost. When I was 16 he tried to sneak me out to a seedy tattoo place for us to get matching tattoos. We got busted and mom got so mad.” Nessa smiles at the memory, wiping away the stray tear that slid down her cheek.

“How old was he?” Rhea asked, picking her head back up and taking a good look at Nessa.

“24, so he knew bette,r” Nessa chuckles and meets Rhea's gaze. Nessa gently wipes away the tears on Rhea's face.

“My Nonna wasn’t surprised when I came home with my first tattoo and she actually was supportive of me getting it and calmed my parents down…” Rhea lets out a little giggle at the memory, resting her forehead on Nessa’s. Rhea closes her eyes like watching another memory and Nessa grabs her hand again.

“I remember my first year in NXT. She surprised me on my birthday by sending me a care box of my favorite sweets from home. She was always so thoughtful and I am going to spend the rest of my life missing her.” More tears fall down Rhea's face. Nessa moves to pull Rhea down and rests Rhea's head on her shoulder and wraps her arms around her.

“I know, sweet girl, but her memory lives on in you. Every time you breathe, think of her, in the inspiration you are for others like she was to you. She is still alive in that memory. It is up to those they leave behind to keep the memories alive and you do that with everything you do. I don’t know her but I do know how proud she must be of you for achieving your dreams and inspiring others to be themselves.” Nessa kisses the top of Rhea's head mirroring the comfort the woman in her arms has given her. Rhea sniffles and shuffles deeper into Nessa’s arms.

“This…this helps, thank you, Nessa,” Rhea scoots down in Nessa’s arms to rest her head on Nessa’s lap. Nessa runs her fingers through Rhea's hair, gently scratching her scalp. They stay like that for the rest of the hour trading stories of their lost loved ones until the timer goes off.

“Ok sweets let's get up and I’ll show you how to braid the Challah after I put the Kugel in the warmer to keep it ready.” Nessa gently slides Rhea's head off her lap, laughing when Rhea lets it thunk on the ground.

“Everything ok in there?” Comes Damiens worried voice.

“Yeah all good, Rhea decided to test the hardness of the floor with her head.” Nessa answers back while getting up, laughter coming from the living room as she helps Rhea up. Rhea gently grabs Nessa, both hands on either cheek and kisses her lips tenderly, and pecks her nose before letting her go. Blood rushes to Nessa’s face with affection.

“Are we going to talk after dinner Bunny?” Rhea asks softly as Nessa takes the dish out of the oven and puts it in the warming drawer. Nessa turns around still blushing and goes to stand next to Rhea at the counter.

“Yeah, I suppose it is time to give you all my decision. It is unfair to you all to not have an answer, especially because I’m the reason y'all haven’t had sex for what over a week?” Nessa shrugs, feeling guilty and embarrassed. Rhea shakes her head and just pulls Nessa towards her trapping her between the counter and herself. Nessa’s back against Rhea’s chest and Rhea leans down to whisper in her ear.

“That is not a problem and is not a bad thing or your fault Nes. Don’t give us an answer just because you feel bad or because you feel pressured for sex.” Rhea tells her seriously and squeezes her arms around Nessa’s waist.

“It's not because of that, I want to because…” Nessa stops when she hears Rhea take a sharp breath and nuzzle into her neck.

“I knew it.” Rhea quietly gloats, smiling into Nessa’s neck.

“Just keep it quiet till after dinner, there are still some things I need to discuss ok?” Nessa asks and Rhea nods and places a string of kisses on Nessa's neck making her breath catch in her throat. Nessa swallows a few times to gather herself and clears her throat. “Ok so let's get the Challah done, it'll take another hour and I’m getting hungry!” Nessa tries to move out of Rhea's arms only for Rhea to grunt, “Nuh uh”. Nessa sighs and shakes her head. “Menaces the lot of you…” Nessa can’t help but smile glad her back is to Rhea.

“So what do I do?” Rhea asks, reaching around Nessa. Nessa rolls her eyes and directs her on what to do, sometimes guiding her hands and helping as they cut and braid the Challah and add the egg wash. Rhea grabs the tray and turns around putting it in the oven, Nessa can’t help it, but she smacks Rhea's ass as she is bent over, a blush rushing to her face again as Rhea snaps back into a standing position and turns around her eyebrow raised. Rhea slowly steps towards Nessa who is already backed up against the counter. Rhea closes the gap between them and places her hands on either side of Nessa trapping her back against the counter.

“Now little girl, what was that?” Rhea’s voice drops and Nessa’s face gets even redder as she bites her lip.

“I mean it looked so inviting and delicious I couldn’t help myself…” Nessa squeaks out looking up at Rhea with wide eyes. Rhea smirks devilishly down at Nessa, grabbing her by the ass and lifting her onto the counter, Nessa instinctually wrapping her arms around Rhea's neck.

“I know you like rough play but you don’t know the game you are playing yet little girl. You don’t know how much I want you, how much we want you, and have come close to crossing that boundary. You’ve been such a good girl taking care of me and the boys this week,” Rhea gets even closer as she talks, her face close to Nessas, her voice sending shivers up Nessa’s spine.

Rhea scoots Nessa closer to the edge of the counter closer to her and Nessa wraps her legs around Rhea. Nessa leans closer and puts her lips to Rheas, feeling her soft lips move with hers, Nessa’s hand tangling in Rhea’s short hair making the woman moan and pull back.

“Oh no Bunny, if there is hair pulling I’ll be pulling yours.” Rhea rasps out knotting her hands in Nessa's hair and pulling her head back exposing her neck. Rhea wastes no time biting and sucking on Nessa’s neck, Nessa whimpers quickly becoming putty in Rhea’s hands.

There is a thunder of footsteps and Damian and Dominik run into the kitchen making Rhea separate from Nessa, a proud smirk on her face seeing the marks lining Nessa’s neck.

“Oh come on, that's not fair!” Dominik whines and Damian smirks and crosses his arms.

“What happened here Mariposa? I hear a thunk then all of a sudden you guys are making out?” Damian whines.

“She smacked my ass!” Rhea answers and Damian chuckles while Dom makes the oooh face.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Damian chuckles and walks over gently grabbing Nessa’s chin and gently moving her head to look at the marks on her neck.

“I'll have to add to this, it is unfair that Rhea gets all the fun.” Damian says, the promise heavy in his voice and Nessa takes a shaky breath looking up at him. Damian meets her gaze and leans down about to kiss Nessa only for Rhea to pull him back and Nessa pouts.

“You can kiss later, it's my time right now and we are cooking dinner, so like she said get out of my kitchen.” Rhea playfully shoves a pouty Damian out of the kitchen, Dominik laughing and following him out. Once she is sure the boys are gone and hopefully out of earshot Rhea steps back to where Nessa is still sitting on the counter and stands between her legs again, hands gently resting on Nessa’s hips. “Are you ok Bunny?” Rhea asks, studying Nessa’s expression trying to read any potential discomfort. Nessa blushes and nods her head, wrapping her arms around Rhea's neck again.

Remembering Rhea asks for verbal confirmation Nessa answers, “Yes... Can you kiss me again?” Nessa asks, rubbing her nose on Rhea’s. Rhea lets out a noise between a huff and a chuckle at how much more innocent Nessa seems, clearly, she is a little, more bits and pieces falling into place making sense. More gently this time Rhea slides her hand up Nessa’s side, continuing until it is on the back of her neck, and pulls her close, melding their lips together, Nessa’s lips parting slightly allowing Rhea to maintain dominance. Nessa’s hands gripping Rhea's shirt at her shoulders, feeling Rhea’s tongue on her own, Nessa’s heart pounding in her chest. Rhea breaks the kiss first, resting her forehead on Nessa’s, both of them taking shallow breaths, their chests heaving with the effort.

“I uh… I think we should stop there for now, Bunny.” Rhea nearly whispers, swallowing trying to put some control back in her voice. Nessa whines, batting her eyelashes at Rhea silently asking for more. “Nessa, you haven’t told the others and I am afraid we won't stop if we continue, so, we stop there for now. We have plenty of time to continue.” Rhea kisses Nessa’s forehead and takes a step back, helping Nessa off the counter.

“Ok I guess that is fair…” Nessa can’t help but pout as Rhea starts cleaning up the kitchen and Nessa does the same, almost glad to busy herself to distract from the throbbing between her thighs. They clean the kitchen together, moving in sync with each other, no feeling of awkwardness between them, instead, it is the sexual tension from earlier, their actions playing on repeat in Nessa’s mind. They are nearly done when the timer for the bread goes off.

“I’ll get it Bunny, you’ve done most of the work.” Rhea kisses the top of Nessa’s head and turns, getting the bread out of the oven.

“Let it sit for about 10 minutes and we can plate everything up. I have a salad with chicken in the fridge for Finn, just give him a little scoop of the Kugel so he can try it since it is high in carbs. There are some other food options if you guys don’t like it. Kugel isn’t for everyone…” Nessa shrugs shyly, nervous about how they will like the food.

Rhea shakes her head and goes over to Nessa pulling her close and resting her chin on top of Nessa’s head. “It smells delicious and I am sure we will all love it. You need to have more confidence in yourself and your abilities.” Rhea orders gently swaying them back and forth.

“How much longer, I’m starving!” Dominik whines from the other room.

“A few more minutes Dom Dom be patient. I’ll bring it out when it is ready.” Nessa answers back.

“You mean you’ll call us when it is ready.” Finn hollers back.

It makes Nessa roll her eyes, “Uh… yeah sure” Nessa responds, jumping away from Rhea who tickled her side. Nessa swats away Rhea’s hands and goes over to the oven and slices up the bread and pulls out the tray of Kugel, Rhea grabs the plates and utensils. Nessa plates up the food and sets it on the counter before calling out for everyone to come and get it.

The boys all run in and see plates already ready all with different things on them. Nessa grabs the first plate and hands it to Finn. “I know you eat a low or no-carb diet so I only gave you a little of the Kugel and bread and the rest is a healthy chicken salad.” She smiles shyly as Finn takes the plate with a grateful smile.

“That is so sweet of you to do that, you didn’t have to.” He steps forward and kisses her forehead surprised she went through the trouble to prepare them all separate plates for their dietary needs. He smiles and turns away as Nessa blushes and heads back to the living room.

Damian grabs the plate Nessa holds out to him and steps forward placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Thank you Mariposa, you didn’t have to go through all the effort to make us all special plates we would have eaten whatever you made.” Damian gently strokes Nessa’s face for a moment before turning and joining Finn in the living room.

Dom smiles widely at Nessa and grabs the plate which was admittedly less healthy than his counterparts, playing on his sweet tooth though it was well portioned. “Thank you Mi Vida, I always love your cooking, you know that!” Dom steps forward and kisses Nessa much the same as Damian previously.

“I know that’s why I gave you a little more than the others, though not enough to wreck your diet, now go sit while Demi and I bring in our food.” Nessa shoos him away and smiles as he goes in for a second kiss before scurrying out the room avoiding Nessa swinging lovingly at him with the wooden spoon she picked up. Nessa shakes her head and sets it down, handing Rhea her plate and grabbing her own. Rhea follows Nessa and sits down on the floor in front of the couch where the boys are, Nessa in front of Damian's legs and Rhea in front of Dominiks.

“Why are you guys sitting down there, there is plenty of room on the chair or you can sit on our laps.” Damian offers wiggling his eyebrows.

“I think I am good down here guys, Nessa taught me this is a way to grieve and it kinda helps.” Rhea shrugs and takes a bite of the Kugel and closes her eyes letting out a moan, “You didn’t tell me it was going to be sweet.” Rhea takes another bite and does a little happy wiggle enjoying the taste of the food on her plate.

“This is really good Luv, thank you!” Finn takes another bite and smiles, the others making noises of agreement as they eat.

“This bread is delicious, you made this from scratch?” Damian asks, his mouth full and holding up a piece of the bread.

Nessa swallows her mouthful before answering and leans back on Damian's legs, laying her head back on his knees to look up at him upside down, “Yeah it is really easy and doesn’t have to proof for too long.” Nessa smiles up at Damian who uses his free hand to momentarily stroke Nessa’s cheek.

Damian notices that Nessa’s expression has changed to a look of worry. “What’s wrong Mariposa?” Damian strokes her cheek again.

Nessa’s eyes focus back and she picks her head back up and shakes it. “Nothing Luis, I just want to talk after dinner. There are some things I want to say to you all…” Nessa takes a nervous bite of her bread trying and failing to hide her shiver as Damian runs his fingers through her hair.

“There is no need to be nervous, Corazon, we accept your decision no matter what you say. Just eat Princesa, you’ve spent so much time cooking and taking care of us you need to eat now,” Dominik reassures her while trying to make sure she takes care of herself. She does as she is told, the rest of them eating their dinner in comfortable silence with the tv on for background noise. Once everyone is done eating, Nessa tries to get up to collect the dishes only for Damian to stop her by placing his hand on her shoulder before getting up and grabbing the plates, Dominik helping him. They come back in after a few minutes and join Nessa and Rhea on the floor, Finn doing the same, all of them sitting in a circle facing each other.

“The floor is yours Mariposa.” Damian smiles at his pun making the rest of the room groan. Nessa swallows nervously and taps on her knee.

“I … I have… I would like…” Nessa stutters her nerves making it impossible to say what she wants, the group looking at her patiently, Rhea reaching out to grab Nessa’s hand. Nessa pauses and takes a deep breath and tries again, “Uh… I want to be with you all, I… I’m all in.” Nessa says so quietly it is a whisper and they didn’t hear her. Trying to lean closer, Damian asks her to repeat what she said. “I’m in, I’m all in with you all with everything,” Nessa says a little louder, her face cherry red. Everyone sits back the way they were a moment ago, Finn looking happy, Dominik smiling from ear to ear and Damian looking smug.

“That is so good to hear Mariposa, are there any additional boundaries you wanted to discuss oh and we will need to have the kink discussion soon…” Damian claps then rubs his hands as Rhea pulls Nessa onto her lap. Nessa grabs Rhea’s hand for courage and plays with her fingers.

“If it would help I could, we could fill out a kink chart. And you can ask Dom, he knows a fair chunk of what I like and that could start that conversation.” Nessa offers to try and feel more comfortable with the conversation.

“And you mentioned you don’t know exactly what you need for aftercare. That is fine, we can figure it out together…” Damian promises with a smile, the rest nodding in agreement. Dominik scoots over and leans against Rhea and Nessa almost crying in relief that she is his again, that she is now properly theirs and he needs the physical contact. The others see this and converge all leaning or laying on one another as the conversation continues.

“It's not an additional boundary I want to discuss but more of an ask. I know for the last few weeks you all have not been able to be intimate with each other, at least where Rhea was concerned while we roomed together. I don't know what you did behind closed doors… Anyway if there is ever a time you want that with each other and I am not… I don’t want…” Nessa sighs trying to gather her train of thought before continuing, “If you want to have sex and I don’t want to please just let me know I won’t be upset and will give you the time you need…” Rhea's arms squeeze harder around Nessa’s waist, Dominik squeezes her thigh and Damian sighs in mock annoyance.

“It isn’t a problem the last two weeks Mariposa, you were, are learning us just as we are learning you. We aren’t going to ask you to leave just so we can have sex that isn’t fair to you, that is something we can figure out organically. So don’t go and feel bad about that.” Damian explains.

“Yeah, we aren't always having sex either, a lot of times it is just nice to relax and cuddle like this,” Finn adds on and for emphasis throws himself on Damian's lap. Nessa relaxes more and laughs at Finn's antics.

“So Mamita, since you have agreed to join us does that mean that sex is back on the table?” Damian halfway jokes wiggling his eyebrows and blood rushes to Nessa’s face remembering what happened the previous week. The group erupts in laughter, Nessa laughing along because the genuine happiness they are exuding is contagious. ____________________________________________________________________________

Nessa and Rhea are in the middle laying down on the couch cushions they pulled off the couch and laid it out so as to be enough pillows for all of them. Damian is lying next to Nessa, Dominik on Rhea's other side. Finn shimmies in between Nessa and Rhea forcing them apart and making Rhea spoon him and he flips Nessa over so he can spoon her, “Hold me asshats,” Finn grumbles and Damian scoots closer and throws his arm over the both of them his face close to hers. The two of them smiling softly at each other.

“Hi.” She mouths to him.

He smiles wider, answering back, just as silently, “Hi Hermosa,” he lays his head on his free arm using it as a pillow. Nessa reaches out grabbing Damian’s shirt to pull him closer and closes her eyes, getting more comfortable and falling asleep to the sounds of her various partners already snoring, Dominiks being the most pronounced.

The next morning Nessa wakes up under a pile of limbs feeling the most refreshed she has in a long time having actually slept through the night. She opens her eyes and cranes her neck seeing Finn’s beard that tickles her face she scrunches it up and tries to wiggle back only to back into Damian and making both men groan, Finn pulling her back to his chest and Damian practically rolling on top of them smooshing Nessa between them.

“It’s too early to be up, go back to sleep Mariposa…” Damian's deep voice still thick with sleep orders and Finn hums in agreement.

Rhea picks up her head and looks at the clock on the wall and groans plopping her head back down, “It’s 10 am we haven’t slept this late in a long time.” Rhea groans and squeezes Dom’s hand to make sure he wakes up too.

“So we have the week off, basically we can afford to sleep in.” Damian responds, his eyes still closed. Nessa wiggles trying to create some room but her breath catches feeling their hard cocks on either side of her. Finn realizes first and places a gentle kiss on Nessa’s head.

“Sorry Luv,” He apologizes before being the first to leave the cuddle pile. With Finn’s spot vacant Rhea reaches out and pulls Nessa to her chest Damian scoots along resuming their closeness, Rhea’s arm around Nessa’s waist. Damian pulls her head to his, their lips meeting sweetly in little pecks progressively getting more sensual, Nessa gently tugging on Damian's hair making him growl in response, and he pulls Nessa's leg over his hip so his erection is now pressing against her, her sleep shorts and his underwear the only barrier between them.

Rhea runs her hands up and down Nessa’s body biting and sucking more marks onto her neck and shoulder making her moan as Rhea slides her hand under Nessa’s shirt gently playing with her breasts and making Nessa moan into Damian's mouth, parting hers to give him entrance. His own hands roam her body, ending up on her ass and hiking her further onto his hip.

Dominik is kissing Rhea much the way Rhea is kissing Nessa and he pauses, “Mami can I have a taste, please” Dominik begs, wanting to feel his lips against any part of Nessa. Rhea hums against Nessa’s shoulders, biting down and leaving another mark making Nessa break the kiss with Damian to moan, throwing her head back onto Rhea.

“Bunny can Dominik have a turn kissing you, I think he has been a good boy,” Rhea asks, peppering kisses on Nessa's soft plump lips. Nessa nods and Rhea scoots back allowing Dominik to climb over her, Nessa rolling over to face Dominik, Damian taking the opportunity to slide off Nessa’s shirt and kiss up her back as Dominik captures Nessa's lips, his shaky hand raising up to rest on Nessa’s face. He places kisses down Nessa’s jaw and the other side of her neck which has yet to be marked by any of them.

He barely gets a mark on her neck before Rhea pulls him away from Nessa, "Now, please Mami while I get Bunny ready for Papi." Rhea orders Dominik and maneuvers her body to give Dominik access while she continues to kiss and mark up Nessa, sliding her fingers into Nessa's cunt, Rhea gasping in pleasure as Dominik uses his own mouth and fingers to do as he was told.

“Is this ok Mariposa?” Damian asks, as he rolls her onto her back so Rhea still has access to her cunt, and he can resume marking up her chest and playing with her nipples enjoying the noises spilling from her lips. She only manages to nod her head but the silence makes them all pause, Rhea pulling her finger away from Nessa. “Words Mariposa, we need words.” Damian growls, a reminder.

“Yes, please don’t stop,” Nessa whimpers. Rhea and Damian share a look and smile at each other, an unspoken agreement forming.

“Dom, lay on your back let me take my pleasure from you while Papi pleases our Bunny.” Rhea grabs Dominik by the hair and pulls him back up, kissing him, tasting herself on his lips before shoving him on his back, and quickly getting undressed and straddling him, guiding his cock inside her the both of them moaning as Rhea moves her hips and rides him while next to them Damian is getting similar sounds out of Nessa.

Damian kisses down Nessa’s body, biting and sucking, Nessa arching her back as he does so on her thigh making her spread her legs for him. Damian wastes no time burying his face between her thighs licking at her clit and using his fingers to help get her ready. Nessa moans and writhes, grabbing a fist full of his hair which he takes as encouragement adding another finger making Nessa moan again, her breathing getting more shallow.

Damian feels her clench around his fingers and he stops licking her for a moment, “Good girl Mariposa, cum for me.” He tells her and returns to pleasing her with his tongue. Nessa whines as she cums around his fingers. Her own fingers were still tangled in his hair. Damian licks up at the increased wetness savoring her taste.

Damian starts to lick and bite back up Nessa’s body as she glances over to see Rhea still riding Dom, their faces scrunched up in pleasure, one of Rhea's hands pinning Dom's hands above his head the other pressing on his chest for leverage. They disappear from Nessa’s view as Damian turns her head to access the part of her neck not marked up and proceeds to add his own marks before returning to Nessa’s lips. His hand travels back down to her cunt and slides his fingers back in, Nessa arching her back, her chest momentarily rubbing against Damian's. It is at that moment the conversation from the coffee shop pops into her head.

“Papi. please.” Nessa begs bucking up against his hand.

“Please what Mariposa?” He answers back gently biting at her neck, his cock grazing across her thigh as he moves his fingers in and out of her wet cunt.

“Please just fuck me…” She begs her breath catching in her throat. Damien groans into her neck, using every bit of his strength to control himself so as to not hurt her, not knowing what she needs yet. He lines himself up and gently pushes in, careful to let her adjust to his size and pressing his lips to hers tenderly. Even when his full length is inside her he moves slowly and carefully, while it feels good it annoys Nessa, she wants more and decides to do something about it. She slightly turns her face away from his kiss and pulls on his hair making him expose his neck. She leans up and bites down, hard, making Damian shudder and groan. Nessa moves her mouth to his collarbone and bites down hard again this time a coppery taste touches her tongue. She lays her head back down on the pillow satisfied with the marks she made. Damien looks at her shocked, his pupils blown with lust. He leans down by her ear, his thrusts speeding up and getting more forceful.

“If that's how you want to play it, Mariposa, so be it.” He growls in her ear before capturing her lips in a possessive, bruising kiss while rutting into her, one hand loosely wrapped around her throat, bracing himself on that elbow, his other hand goes back to rubbing her clit as he fucks her. He keeps up the pace for several minutes until he feels her cunt begin to spasm around his cock, her orgasm rushing through her, her skin flushing red all over her body. He continues his pace prolonging her orgasm and chasing his own until he shudders and bites down on Nessa’s shoulder like she did his, as he finishes inside her.

Damian stays there for a moment collecting himself and watching Nessa’s expression. Her chest heaves with the effort to breathe but she is smiling which ensures Damian that she is ok. He sweetly kisses her forehead before rolling off from on top of her and pulling her to his chest and holding her. “Are you ok Mariposa? Was that too much? What do you need?” Damian asks rapidly, wanting to make sure she is ok as he holds her to his chest, Nessa’s hand resting on his chest next to her head. Nessa nods her head and swallows trying to find strength to talk and collect her thoughts, her body trembling slightly still.

“I’m ok, that was, that was wonderful and just hold me please.” She quietly answers, partly muffled by Damian's chest. They do hear her however and all scoot over surrounding her in the cuddle pile again. “Did you guys just lay there when you were done waiting for us to finish?” Nessa asks, a little more strength in her voice and she feels Rhea laugh against her.

“Yes, this does happen fairly often, and that's what we do so we can all give each other what we need afterward.” Rhea answers. Nessa feels someone play with her hair.

They lay like that for a while before Damian clears his throat, “This probably should have been discussed before but we got carried away, are you on birth control? I’m sorry to ask like this but we did discuss that in the boundaries…” He kisses Nessa’s head as she jumps hearing thumps from the kitchen.

“Relax Mi Vida, Finn is making us breakfast. He does that when he doesn’t participate if we have sex in the morning.” Dominik soothes Nessa reaching over and squeezing her shoulder.

“Yeah, I have an IUD, it’s still good, I am due to have it replaced in a few months.” Nessa explains craning her neck to look up at Damian. She starts to fidget and wiggle and Damian shakes his head and breaks the embrace and slides into a sitting position.

“Go to the bathroom, Nes you clearly need to and we don’t want you to get a UTI, the same goes for you, Rhea.” He orders gently running his fingers through Nessa’s hair when she pouts at the loss of contact but stays laying down because Rhea pulled her to her chest spooning her.

“But comfy…” Rhea mutters into Nessa’s hair, Dominik hums in agreement.

“I know Nessa is comfortable but your health comes first, now, let her go and both of you go to the bathroom.” Damian orders. Nessa wiggles out of Rhea's grasp for Rhea to whine at the loss of heat. Nessa leans over and kisses Rhea, then Dom, then she straddles Damian momentarily and kisses him again before jumping up and going to the bathroom.

Rhea giggles watching Nessa run naked through her house to the bathroom.

"Well that was unexpected," Rhea comments, getting up herself wrapping the blanket around her and continues, "Tonight I'll see if she will fill out the kink chart so we know for sure what is ok and not." Rhea struts away from them Dom still laying on the floor and Damian leaning against the couch sitting up. Damian opens his arms for Dominik who crawls over and sits on his lap.

“She let me kiss her and would have let me do more if Mami would let me,” Dominik pouts, laying his head on Damian's shoulder. Damian wraps his arms around Dom's waist.

“Yes she would have, but we don’t want to do too much too fast, she is still hurt from what happened Dom. We didn’t stop you out of being stingy but to protect both of you. I think it was almost too much for her; she nearly went nonverbal.” Damien explains rubbing up and down Dom’s arm.

“If she is moving and nodding and whimpering it’s ok, it's when she nods but no sound at all is when she shuts down.” Dom explains.

“Where did the biting come from? Did she do that with you?” Damien asks trying to understand how the girl who blushes when he flirts suggestively, she just bites down, did she know that is one of his kinks?

“No not really, she did bite me a bit but never like that,” Dominik answers, kissing the bruises on Damian's neck and making him moan again.

“Oy no more fucking, breakfast is almost done go get dressed the girls are already in here helping me!” Finn hollers out from the kitchen. Damian sighs and pats Dominik’s thigh who gets up, Damian does the same and stretches the two of them going to get ready for the day.

[t1bb1zoey]

The differences in these looks are astronomical, but both are based in a great sense of love and trust:

HE TIAN'S LOOK

For He Tian, this was the moment he finally understood how much Mo has stacked up against him, how blind he was to the real issues Mo has. It isn't just money, it's that Mo is not cruel enough to survive the world he was sucked into. This look from He Tian, aside from devastation and guilt at how blind he was to this all, is underpinned by a STRONG sense of righteous anger. The downturned brows, the reddened eyes like a devil's, the lips thin and pressed together. He Tian in this moment knows he's going to do whatever it takes to protect Mo from the world they live in. If Mo can't be cruel, because he really doesn't have it in him, then He Tian is going to do what his brother taught him to do: he's going to become the strongest of them all and he's going to make anyone who harms Mo pay tenfold.

This look is ultimately an admission by He Tian that he was wrong to treat Mo's problems so breezily, and it is a promise to make sure Mo will never be left alone to be harmed this way again. He Tian says here with this look that he understands now why Mo felt alone, he's sorry he misunderstood Mo's problems, and Mo can fully trust him now with his heart. And after this scene, Mo does trust He Tian more, and he opens up to physical touch and shows of affection, because He Tian finally gets what Mo needs from him. Support and trustworthiness while Mo navigates living in a cruel world: not control over his actions and not money thrown at problems like a band-aid.

It's the first time we have ever seen He Tian like this in the story, and I think it was a giant turning point for his character arc and goals. His love for Mo turns from a pretty intense childhood crush here to undying and unyielding devotion. This is a love that has taught He Tian a lesson about life, and because He Tian has a will to protect goodness in the world, like the goodness he sees in Mo, Mo is now a symbol of the world he wants to live in. If Mo is protected and allowed to continue to be good, all is right in the world for He Tian.

FOR MO, THIS FUCKING LOOK:

There are so many layers to this one too. We have seen Mo cry before and be vulnerable, but never like this.

For one, He Tian just saved him from being stabbed by that psycho, using his own hand as a meat shield, and He Tian just showed Mo how distraught and worn-down he has been watching She Li torture Mo these past weeks. He Tian just UNLOADED onto She Li to the point that he was shaking and needed to be stopped. I think Mo just witnessed something very dark inside He Tian, that darkness He Tian told him on the staircase he was glad Mo isn't afraid of him for.

BUT, He Tian turns around unsure after the man stops him with a certain fear in his eyes. He's scared of what Mo's face is going to look like. Has he gone too far? Will Mo, in all his goodness, understand that this violence and darkness is the only way He Tian knows how to protect him from the cruelty of the world? That She Li can only be dealt with by someone equally as dark-souled as he is?

And then He Tian turns around, terrified, to see how Mo will see him now, and he gets this look. THIS LOOK. LOOK AT MO'S FACE.

Mo is sucking in sobs here, his lips pinched together to try to have some control, his eyes are so open and vulnerable like he is in disbelief at what he just saw, and his brows are turned up in concern. If I were He Tian, this look may have made me feel like my beloved is scared of me, but if you look closer there are layers here.

Mo looks first and foremost sorry to me. He looks devastated He Tian was pushed to this level of stress and violence, that He Tian is scared Mo is about to reject him, that He Tian is bleeding and injured for him. That He Tian went to these great lengths to make Mo's life even a shred better at what might be great personal cost to He Tian's own emotional wellbeing. Being driven to this breaking point is not normal, this is not normal teenage behavior, and Mo being so good and loving knows that. In this moment, Mo's seen all the hardships and neglect and expectations that have been placed on He Tian as He Tian just wailed on She Li.

Mo has finally learned what He Tian was trying to tell him on the stairs. He Tian is scared of the dark, because the dark is where he was raised. If you want love, you fight for it. And if you want ANY sense of goodness to survive, you HAVE to take on the burden of cruelty yourself so that it may grow protected. She Li wanted to destroy Mo's goodness, resents Mo for his goodness, but He Tian needs Mo's goodness for his own world view - He Tian must know there is something worth fighting for in this cruel world, otherwise he is just simply cruel, like his family and She Li.

But it's Mo's next move that is really important. Mo goes to He Tian immediately and wraps him up in the tightest hug. He reassures He Tian here that he is NOT scared of He Tian's darkness and that He Tian is loved still despite showing this part of himself to Mo. On the contrary, I think Mo is conveying that he loves him more for loving Mo this INTENSELY.

It's not even all about He Tian's romantic love for Mo here; it's also about He Tian's love of GOODNESS in general. Of friends who will fight in your place, of people who will help out others just to do it, of precious keepsakes in a box that keep you connected to better times with your family members, of brothers who protect their younger siblings out of pure affection. He Tian loves goodness in the world, and Mo is a symbol of all of that. I think Mo understands that about He Tian. I think it makes their love for each other not just a high school drama, but an example of how sometimes you just NEED people, so so dearly, in your life. He Tian needs Mo for his goodness, and Mo needs He Tian for his cruelty. They are soulmates, and they accept each other. Not just crushes or bodies to touch, but genuinely soul-bound companions. The look Mo gives He Tian confirms this to me.

So, in short, He Tian's face was a promise to Mo to give him what he needs from now on, and Mo's face in this latest chapter is a promise to accept He Tian's love, no matter how dark it may look sometimes.

Such a beautiful chapter with so much more to say, but I'll leave it at that.

[sophaeros]

golden trunks theory but i've forgotten how to do literary analysis:

so i think much like a lot of tbhc golden trunks is about a juxtaposition between intimacy/desire and the facade u have to put up as a public figure

like the opening verse/chorus are so starkly plain in the mental image they describe. it's just a simple portrait of an intimate night falling asleep together, and theres a very secretive tone created by the words "whispered" "admit". so from the get go we know immediately that it's about "true love" → romantic connotations, and this true love is associated w the night ie secrecy

this is a stark contrast to the second verse and bridge but esp the bridge where he plainly says "in the daytime". usually the day and light are associated w truth and revealing things but here he uses the daytime to talk about "a fresh new pack of lies", in contrast to the nighttime's "true love". the fact that the bridge is about being a celebrity and contending with lying for the sake of public relations is made very clear w how he says "bendable figures" → public figures who just bend/conform to the narrative crafted by pr managers, and most obviously w the use of the word "publicise". in an interview w la times hes asked if he enjoys being a pop star (w all the pressure and attention that entails) and he says "i have very little basis for comparison. the band has been going on for a larger fraction of my lifetime than it hasn’t." so as a very private person even leaving conspiracy theories about sexuality aside hes obv familiar w trying to keep the details of his relationships out of the spotlight. + this idea of the nighttime being the time for truth has been used before in diwk so it's a consistent theme

lots of people say the song about politics bc of the second verse cuz they say it's about (eugh) donald trump but i feel like thats a very surface reading. it's very out of place to me for him to have this randomass political commentary in a love song that he never brings up ever again which is why i dont think it's actually political commentary (or well, not Just, the pitchfork interview shows that is Is aware of politics obv it's just not the Point) it's just another angle to illustrate the idea of a public facing facade. he states in an interview that he thought of the wwf, which has given us the very interesting concept of kayfabe: the fact or convention of presenting staged performances as genuine or authentic. the public persona, like a wrestler w a dramatic theme song, is larger than life, rehearsed, beloved and famous, and also very much fake. 

this next part i said entirely as a joke making shit up while talking to my mutuals but then i was like wait maybe i was cooking. we're getting into more speculative rpf territory here but essentially i thought it was very interesting how he specifies that this is "the closest thing to a love song on this record", and also that the character it's centred around is one that he "made". many of his past love songs everyone knows are about his real actual love interests (eg shes thunderstorms was about alexa. alexa was a tv presenter) and now here's this song that is about simple, straightforward admittance of desire towards someone that doesnt exist. summed up in my og message to my mutuals, "hes singing to the amalgamation of his lovers an imaginary ideal to whom he can be simple and honest with in a way he can't quite bring himself to be in real life". i honestly feel like this gels well with the ultracheese's last two lines; a vague admission of guilt, of complicated feelings, vs capitulating to honesty and tiring of lying for the sake of pr ("i'm sure you've heard about enough"). + i find it interesting that golden trunks is that only tbhc song that has never been performed live

++ this idea of duplicity and lying has come up a lot in his discography but in tbhc specifically the bside anyways has the line "what a place for both the opposite sides / of my double life to finally collide"

and finally. the absolute funniest part of golden trunks.

Let me set the scene: sometime between Axl Rose getting braids (2002) and People Just Do Nothing jumping the shark (right now), those brothers in melodic yarns Turner and Kane, plus “another human being” – let’s call her “The Girl”, shall we, to save her poor mother’s heart condition? – are intertwined among the postcoital flotsam of an upmarket hotel room. “Hey, I’m glad you came,” Turner is alleged to have said, forever on the right side of etiquette and politeness in such matters. While Kane, in his sludgy Scouser lilt acknowledged, “Ah, thanks, man.” At which point Turner sat bolt upright in his sparkly gold briefs (unconfirmed) to stress who, in fact, his grateful aside was aimed at: “Not you, you wally. Her!”

sauces: - quotes curated by genius - la times - gq magazine / tumblr post

[demigoddessqueens]

Isu

Day 4 of @codextober

Also on ao3

The markings on you always garnered some unwanted attention from the crowds. Basim could see their eyes following your every move, but he always said they were your "tattoos."

At least there was some truth to that.

He had seen them glow in the dead of night when it's darkest, and it only led to him asking more questions about them.

Isu, you had called it. A vast civilization beyond the stars that only wanted to enlighten others. Strange how the young Hidden One always looked to you in admiration, but you knew deep down what the truth was.

Regardless of what you had told him, directly or indirectly to shield for his own protection, Basim felt set aside from the rest you conversed with. You trusted him. You only sought him out with this knowledge of yourself.

As guilty as any admission would be, he found himself absently tracing the intricate marks on your skin. It was a fascination how it pulsed with what felt like energy under his touch.

You welcomed his admiration but felt that pang of guilt deep within yourself whenever you left what is, and always was, his fate to be.

For now, you knew he would do whatever he could to protect you from whatever came your way.

[zeravmeta]

yknow limbo works as such a fantastic complement to guda in the sense that both are lesser versions of their contemporaries but guda succeeds where limbo doesn't because guda is more of a nobody than limbo is. limbo is the villain meant to be defeated by abe no seimei and always exists solely in service to that role as the empty rumor of hatred that a rival holds a mere glory kill and thus limbo has never once won in his life, he is called the most pathetic human by koyanskaya because he is fundamentally incapable of change. guda in a similar vein is also the only master left at the start of the grand order and thus the only option available to save humanity, and multiple times throughout fgo gudas lack of experience is called out, culminating in the lostbelt arc where guda is guilt tripped about their journey by koyanskaya and kadoc insults them by saying that if guda could have done it, then feasibly the rest of team A even he himself could have also done it. what kadoc and the rest failed to understand there though is that. yeah, that's literally the point.

the thing is that even when drowned in the guilt of ending the lives of the people in the lostbelts, guda still does want to live. they may be fucked up with the sheer amount of curses and promises that their soul carries, they may be slowly turning into some kind of inhuman being, but guda at the end of the day really just wants to live, wants to keep going on adventures with the people they love, wants to remain human, and in that desire they stay human despite the fact. limbo was able to break ashiya doumans spirit with the simple admission that he would never surpass seimei, that all of his efforts would be for naught and despite his position and accomplishments, he would never be able to match or surpass the rival he loved even once, doomed to a legacy of being nothing more than the shadow that followed a great man. guda on the other hand was perfectly fine being the forgotten hero of the grand order simply because it would mean that romani’s sacrifice wouldn’t have been in vain. it didn’t matter if the rest of the world would never know of their journey, because They knew, and the memories they made are far more precious than any recognition of such. limbo may not know or understand love but even then he doesn't really know what he wants either aside from a vague understanding of a need for importance, and ultimately limbo wants the name ashiya douman to mean something more than just that of the rival abe no seimei once had to cut down, filled himself with various gods and curses and names because he literally just wants to be loved in some way

guda reached their hand out to mash when she was dying and apologized because they knew mash wanted to live, and abe no seimei did the same when the pitiful ashiya douman had attempted to take his own life in despair at the thought of his own evil. limbo may not know love but at the very least, he’s taken his first step in wanting to understand it by watching gudas own path to hell. at the very least, limbo wants to reach hell alongside them. if guda could do it, if guda could reach out their hand in the face of their inevitable meaningless death, then surely the caster of limbo might be able to change as well

[sarahfeliciam]

The Ultimatum Ch 1

Author's Note: I know this is jumping right into the story, but that is where my inspiration struck. Rest assured, there will be flashbacks throughout the story every now and again as we go forward. This shall take us from Prisoner of Azkaban through Deathly Hallows and beyond. Bear with me on updates, I am a mama to three and plan to attempt updating twice weekly. Let's pray ha! 

"You wanted to see me, Professor Lupin?"

Even from the far back of the classroom, her words were louder than her knock. She was a bright and bubbly young witch. Remus turned on his heel behind his desk and looked up at her. He took a split second to take in her kind eyes, glistening much like his used to, and her soft and curly, chestnut hair. She wore her tattered Hufflepuff robes with pride and walked slowly toward the desk as he raised a hand to motion to her.

"Yes, Miss Whitticker, please have a seat."

He stood awkwardly before her as she obliged, clasping his hands together and ringing them around eachother once before forcing himself to sit opposite her, the large mahogany desk separating them. She breathed in deeply the smell of old books and Belgian chocolate.

"Are you alright, Professor?"

Her kind eyes shined at him once again and she smiled politely. Somehow, he managed a smile back.

"Yes, I'm sorry," he chose his words carefully. "I want to deliver this news as gentle as one can, is all."

He watched the color leave her face as her lips parted slightly.

"Oh, Merlin, I've failed my term paper, haven't I?" She shot up from her seated position and began pacing in a quickly induced panic across his floor, muttering to herself about surmounting to nothing in life.

"Emeline!"

She broke clean of her reverie and looked up into his eyes, realizing then her professor had her by both shoulders gently.

"You haven't failed anything."

Wheels turned in her brain like the innards of a clock and it shown plainly on her face.

"Well, what have you to tell me then, Professor?"

She watched him swallow hard before slowly lowering his hands and standing over her, looking down with his usual cozy demeanor. But the love she felt in his gaze was different than even his usual teaching spirit.

"Emeline, you're my daughter."

There it was: her clockwork turning again, however this time it took much longer to tick. She stared up at him blankly as she grasped to register what he'd said. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he kept his gaze unwavering, although turning a bit concerned as he searched her face for any sliver of impending comment.

"Em-"

"-your daughter?"

His heart broke at the unusual meekness in her voice.

"Yes."

It only took a moment longer for her to complete her absorption of this earth-shaking admission. Before he could have a chance to process, she pulled him into a close hug and began to cry quietly against his worn, tweed coat.

"I always dreamed you existed."

Her immediate proximity and sharing of dreams had him taken aback, but he tapped into instincts he always dreamed he had if they were admitting hopes, and rested his hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer.

"I'm so sorry you've lived in that for so long."

She released her grip and looked up now with a furrow in her brow.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

He'd never seen hurt or anger flash across her face before, so he wasn't sure which it was. But guilt enveloped him like a suffocating blanket.

"Why don't we sit again?"

He waited for her to take a seat, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing in deeply before taking his own again.

"I imagine that you're aware that your grandparents.. weren't my largest supporters," he spoke cautiously, the last thing he'd desire to do was insult the only family she'd grown up with aside from her mother. "They made that very quickly known to your mother and I."

"But," she looked torn but didn't break her stare. "My grandparents never spoke of you; not any father for that matter."

Remus lifted his head in a half-nod of understanding and leaned back in his chair. He supposed that did make sense now, however it was never a theory he had entertained. In fact, there was only one he subscribed to.

"I thought for sure they'd make it known to you as well, the ultimatum that stood."

If Remus expected any response from her, it certainly wasn't a laugh. Yet here Emeline was before him: that precious smile she'd always worn turned all the way up into a chuckle.

"Forgive me - what ultimatum would have grounds to keep me from my own father? Murdered someone, have you?"

The air grew thick, though Remus knew he was the only one who could feel it. He'd pondered this exact moment all of his life since learning he'd be a father. Naturally, he never could've dreamed he'd be separated from his child for thirteen years. However, he did often wonder how he or she would take to the news when they were old enough to comprehend it.

Exactly what he was; exactly how dangerous he was.

She wore a new expression now. He could recognize this one, she wore it in class often: she was hanging on his every word.

"Emeline, I'm not sure I have the words for this-"

"-you certainly came out with this announcement easily enough and it is the biggest news of my life. What could hold more weight than that?"

He watched her quietly. How could he gain her and lose her in the same few moments? All that pressed him on was simply the fact that he knew he must. He had to make sense of this for her.

"Your grandparents had every reason to forbid your mother and you from allowing my involvement."

"What did you do?" Her words were a bit more forceful now; perhaps they were tinged with slight hesitation. Nonetheless, it was now or never.

"It was never what I did but rather, what I am."

Emeline's face paled into an almost white that was so solemn Remus struggled to accept it was the same student he'd come to know this year.

"You don't need to continue, Professor. My grandparents only ever hated one thing in this world." Her voice sounded bitter, an emotion he'd never seen from her whilst teaching.

"Werewolves." He whispered, nodding.

She shook her head frantically and held up her hand.

"Please. Don't."

He quieted and sat back immediately, feeling the weight of what he was sure being before the Wizengamot would feel like. He pleaded his case with the look he cast her, awaiting her next response for what seemed a decade. As he waited, he took a moment to absorb the gravity of the situation in front of him. Despite knowing all along that Emeline was his sole reason for returning to Hogwarts and he couldn't have helped the ultimatum he was given all those years ago, he felt like a fraud. How had he really let her grow up without him? In the silence, he was able to take in her gentlest quirks; the way she had found an object to fixate on already much like he used to as she toyed with the fraying end of her cloak. When they were finally in an entirely new millennia by the time she spoke, she took him by surprise.

"I said my grandparents hated them, not that I do." Her facial expression softened as he watched her find her own footing and belief right in front of him. She didn't look as pale now, he noted.

"Em," he reached his hand out to her across the desk, remembering momentarily when her newborn fingers clutched around his for the first and only time. He pulled back when she failed to respond and it occurred to him just how much of a stranger he was to her. "Forgive me. I don't know how to make this better but it appears I certainly know how to make it worse. I appreciate your kindness but you need not pretend on my account and I only hope to navigate this as you see fit. However on that note, I have one more necessity to discuss."

She nodded at his return to teacher monologue. "I've never found reason in my life to lie and I won't start now, Professor. Please, continue."

"This entire discussion is emotionally taxing, I'm sure you'd agree. I've always only wanted what's best for you and I have missed you from the day I had to say goodbye, Emeline. I know you may not believe that right now, but I swear to Merlin not a day has past I haven't thought of you. Even the days of the moon. In wishing to shield you any further confusion or pain, I've had to be convinced of this by Dumbledore. It seems he disagrees that there is any reason for our family to remain separate now… in light of recent events." At his last word, his voice broke again out of the confines of teacher. She saw the tears stinging to be free from his eyes and swallowed thickly.

Emeline had been wondering where she'd call home now that her mother was gone, following her grandfather who held out for quite some time after her grandmother. It had all happened so quickly with her mother, that she agreed to return to Hogwarts for third year in a mourning haze. Dumbledore promised her he would have her home life sorted and offer her the comfort she desperately needed to pull through this insurmountable loss. Emeline couldn't have possibly fathomed that the details were so pristinely ironed out behind closed doors, though. She has given up the dream of a father a long time ago. It almost stung, being left out in the dark until now. Why wouldn't Professor Lupin have collected her immediately? Why the 'welcome back' and 'meet your new Professor' charade? Nevertheless, she shook her head to release the emotions bubbling inside her. She was an easy crier and her eyes looked similar to her father's at present, though she was desperately teetering on the chasm between composure and floodgates at the mention of her mother and at the dawning of this life changing news.

"I have so many questions." She choked out.

He couldn't avoid it any longer. He stood swiftly and was relieved that she did as well, sobbing against his chest as he came in to hug her. It felt as though she was weeping years of heartache from her body and at that moment she couldn't have cared who was in the room. She clung to him tightly; the only family she had left.

"I will spend my life answering your questions, Emeline."

Author's Note: There it is – our first chapter! I have such an idea for this story and so hope you all would enjoy following along. If fanfiction still has active readers who are enjoying this, please give me a favorite or review – it is so encouraging to know I am not alone in the tumbleweeds out here writing Remus for over fifteen years now, haha!

[francesderwent]

(Ask 1/6) Just wondering what, in your interpretation of guilty as sin?, implies that ts isn't comfortable with her fantasies in any moral or ethical sense ? I think the song is a total jam but I'm not seeing the evidence and I'm curious about your thoughts. 1. She defends herself pretty strongly in the bridge (famous turning point/revelation of the "truth" in her songwriting) "what if I rolled the stone away," <escape/reject the repressive attitudes that link these thoughts & actions with guilt

"they're going to crucify me anyway" <if the resurrection imagery wasn't enough, now drawing an even stronger parallel between herself and the most Innocent Victim in all of history while doubling down on the "resurrective" action of her rejecting this moral judgement and choosing the fantasies because she sees it as a "judged if you do, judged if you don't" situation. Basically "I haven't done anything wrong (I haven't even touched this guy, it's all in my mind) but they'll 'crucify' me no matter what I do, so might as well do what I want," 2. Pair that with "what if the way you hold me, is actually what's holy" and "they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly, I choose you and me, religiously" Seems to make a pretty strong case for "I make my own 'religion' and its you&me/the love that i am chasing" (a theme painfully evident in so many of her songs as she lives out the eternally true "our hearts are restless until they rest in You") The "they don't know" also speaks to an attitude of "it's unreasonable and a mark of not understanding me and my suffering that someone would say I'm guilty of something/should change what I'm doing" 3. Putting all that aside, even the use of the question mark in the title and the repeated "how can I be guilty as sin? (implied answer: I'm not guilty)" seems to strongly indicate the theme of rejecting the guilt that has been "forced" upon her. Now, is ts comfortable/happy in this song, no, I would completely agree she is not! She is desperately pining for this man and wants to be with him so badly--she is obviously suffering, but, from what I can see, it seems to be stemming basically from her unrequited love, not a discomfort with the fantasies themselves. Hope tumblr doesn't eat any of my asks, sorry this turned into a veritable novel lol

thank you for taking the time to write the novel!!

okay so just as a general disclaimer I think "guilty as sin?" as a standalone song is on SUCH thin ice haha, it only becomes faintly valid in the light of the whole album. but I'm gonna give a real response as best I can:

I think the turning point moment or revelation of the bridge isn't actually about the shallow fantasies that the rest of the song entertains at all. the bridge is more real than the rest of the song because it's her contemplating actually leaving her current relationship. "what if they roll the stone away", in my interpretation, is her admission that this relationship has become a tomb, that it's killed her. but if she rolls the stone away and steps out of the tomb, if she dares to rise up from the dead (again), the public backlash will kill her, again, for daring to leave another unsatisfactory relationship (for daring to demand marriage actually!!)

this is just reiterating the same point but I think you're right that this is another "my religion is me/us/love" moment, but I think it's not about the fantasy. I think "I choose you and me religiously" is her making an act of faith that they're really going to be together soon, and what she's choosing is to try to make it happen. I think that's why she repeats "am I allowed to cry?" as the very last line of the song, because she's asking if she's allowed to cry about the dissolution of a relationship that she chose to walk away from.

I read the title differently! I think the implied answer to the question "without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?" is "I don't know--but I am." she doesn't want to feel guilty, cites reasons why she doesn't think she should ("there's no such thing as bad thoughts"), but keeps circling back. after the turning point of the bridge, Taylor often changes a few lines of the chorus to reflect the revelation, but in this song the chorus doesn't change--it actually goes back to the first, darker, less sexy version! and every time she still has to ask the question "how can I be guilty as sin". she never gets to escape the guilt.

it's also just very interesting to me that that line is the title. the song could've been "only in my mind" or "things we never did" or "our tryst", which in many ways fit the vibe of the song better, but it's not. the song is named not for the delusion she's chasing, but for the gut reaction she can't get rid of. she calls the fantasies "fatal", she says falling back into the hedge maze is "a way to die". she hopes they're magical, "a vow we'll both uphold somehow", but I think she can't quite ignore the reality that it's a vow she's speaking alone, in the middle of another un-vowed relationship. there's a question mark on it because she doesn't want it to be true, and also because the whole song is a hypothetical ("what if he's written mine on my upper thigh", not "he's written mine" etc).

in the context of the larger album, I think it becomes pretty clear that she thinks giving in to the fantasy destroyed every reality she had. it wasn't harmless, it wasn't romantic, it wasn't fated or magical, and it wasn't real. so if the song is saying, rather desperately, "how can entertaining these thoughts be really bad??", the album answers "look around at the wreckage of your world and your self-image and your idea of love"

[zoezoegr]

Admission of guilt: I never used to understand the appeal of cats. Maybe it's because I'm allergic so I've never been able to really interact with them. Can't quite explain it.

That all changed recently when I had a magical experience with a cat. Let me explain:

I was in Paris in the Cafe Beaubourg. I've been there at least a dozen times and I've in their downstairs bathroom many times, but I'd never seen a cat in there to the best of my recollection. It's clearly the cafe's cat, there's a water bowl and everything, but there was fur in the bowl and the cat wasn't interested in drinking their furry water, clearly.

The bathroom was empty aside from the two of us. I went to wash my hands and the cat jumped up on the sink and stuck his head in! I thought, wow he must be really thirsty if he's willing to risk getting all wet. I put my hand over the sensor to run the tap for him. He drank and drank and drank for much longer than I'm sure you're imagining. It was adorable.

I got a really good look at his little tiny pink nose and little tiny pink mouth and little tiny pink tongue lapping up the water. I'd never noticed how precious and pink and small cats' mouths are.

Later that night, I went to a supermarket. Underneath the cash register was a little cat, resting. He also clearly was a resident of this establishment. I stooped down to give my regards and he was totally at ease with me in a way I hadn't experienced before that afternoon with the cafe cat. This supermarket cat acted like we were old friends, rolling around his little area, yawning and licking himself without a care in the world. Also with his little pink tongue in his little pink mouth and his little pink yawns.

I'm starting to think this cat at Cafe Beaubourg put a spell on me. To thank me for helping him drink, I think he made me more appealing to cats, because ever since then, they seem to love me! It's kind of sad because I still can't pet them, but I finally feel really connected to cats and understand all of their charm and preciousness.

It's actually a little freaky to wake up one day as a fully grown adult and suddenly realize that cats are just the cutest little guys in the world. I've heard about people developing online porn addictions that destroy their lives, in my case, it might be cat pinterest! Uh oh!

Anyway, here's a drawing I did of some cats being just the cutest little guys.

Ps this is actually extra weird because I've always drawn cat cartoons for as long as I can remember. Makes no sense. Anyway.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Convincing Arguments - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Warnings: Brief mentions of sex, but nothing insanely graphic. Someday I'll finish that one I started that got way out of hand but today is not that day. Word Count: 1100 Prompt #3: Kisses traveling from your lover’s nose to their lips. a/n: Hi it's been like a month but I've been working long days trying to finish a television and film master class (I'M DONE) and working extra shifts (TOO MANY) and also am just trying to deal with the fact that planets doing dumb things makes my life feel dumb too (DUMB MERCURY) but amidst it all I wrote this little self-indulgent piece so here it is! Enjoy!

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Exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. 

Perhaps you should have listened to your friends when they told you that you should ease up on how much you’re adding to your plate. After all, your busy schedule didn’t exactly leave much time for socializing, or sleep for that matter, but it paid the rent either way. 

Still, you could feel the toll on your body every time your alarm went off at five in the morning, running yourself ragged as you jump from task to task before finally collapsing back in bed well after midnight. Even Frankie has started suggesting that maybe you should slow down a bit, but in a world where everyone expects you to say yes, it’s rather hard to say no. 

Your apartment is blissfully quiet when you unlock the door, and within seconds you’re collapsed on the couch, not even bothering with your shoes, much less changing into something more comfortable. You’re nearly asleep the second your body hits the soft cushions. 

When you wake, you’re unsure of how long you’ve been asleep, but you’re well-aware that you’re no longer in the living room, and on top of that you’re definitely wearing one of Frankie’s shirts and not the jeans and sweater you had on earlier. The room is dark, but it’s easy to make out his body next to you in the soft light streaming through the window. 

And then you remember. It’s the second Friday of the month, set aside in both of your schedules as date night. Guilt coils in your stomach as you stare at your boyfriend’s peaceful form, hair mussed against the pillow. You hesitate to wake him, but a glance at the clock tells you that it isn’t actually too late - just a few minutes before midnight - and you know that you’ll be tossing and turning all night if you don’t apologize for missing your time together. 

Scooting closer to his warm form, you lean in to press a faint kiss to the tip of his nose. Then another, and another on the bridge, following a path to his cheekbone, and you know he’s awake by the time his patchy beard scratches against your lips. When you trail down, he’s quick to return your affection, his tongue tracing your lower lip as he encourages you closer. Strong arms wrap around you in a flash, pulling you to straddle his hips. 

Instinctively, you grind down into him, warmth coursing through your veins, but things cool off quickly as you pull away to catch your breath, exhaustion still evident in your body as you relax. He laughs quietly, his breath fanning out over your ear as you nestle your head into the crook of his neck. “A bit tired tonight, Querida?” 

Your agreement comes out as more of a moan, and you shift against him to lay more comfortably, effectively draped on top of him. He runs gentle hands up and down your back, seeking out the tight muscles the best he can from this angle. “I’m sorry I missed our date night,” you mumble. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers into your skin, lips ghosting a bit of exposed shoulder. “I think you needed the sleep.” 

A frustrated sigh leaves your body. “Maybe, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I missed our time together. I feel like we never get enough of it these days.” It’s an admission that you probably would’ve kept to yourself had your tired mind not let it slip, and your anxiety skyrockets when Frankie remains silent, hands still working along your back. “Frankie?”

“Move in with me,” he says rather suddenly, and if you weren’t awake before, you sure are now. You sit up frantically, arms braced on either side of his head, his hands shifting to rest against your lower back, spanning your waist as he keeps your hips firmly situated against his own. 

“What?”

Frankie looks so serious, his expression the same as the first night he asked you out. The same look when he told you he wanted to get his pilot’s license back. The same look he wore when he told you he’d been clean for six months because of you. “Move in with me,” he repeats, a little louder this time. 

“Frankie, I...” you start, trailing off as you catch the minute change in his expression. Most wouldn’t notice, but you know that look too, the one he gets when his certainty evaporates into anxiety. He looks like he’s about to speak, but you cut him off by rolling off him and onto your back, still tucked close against his side. “Shit, Frankie...” you respond, running your hands over your face. 

“If you’re not ready it’s okay, I just thought -” 

“Wait,” you stop him, reaching for his hand so you can weave your fingers together. You take a deep breath that he mirrors as you stare at the ceiling above you. The same apartment ceiling you’ve been staring at since your move to Miami three years ago. Your very expensive apartment ceiling. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” he asks, and you can’t blame him for being confused. “Truly, if you don’t want to, I’ll understand."

"I'm sure, Frankie," you return, your voice steady and sure.

He obviously doesn't fully hear you, because he continues to ramble. "I know we’ve only been dating a year but I love you and it’s ridiculous that you’re working two jobs to pay your rent when you could move in with me and pay nothing and..."

You roll on your side again to look at him and he trails off. “You don’t have to try and convince me because I'm positive that I want to move in with you, but do you have any other convincing arguments?” 

Frankie smiles, anxieties now long forgotten as a mixture of joy and relief becomes evident in his features. “Well, for starters, you’d be closer to the job you actually like, there would be a yard for you to bring home that dog you want so much, and you’d get to wake up next to me every day.”

You hum, pretending to ponder your options. “I’m not so sure about that last thing, but the dog part is nice. Got anything else?” Playfully, you kiss his nose again, only to squeal when he peppers your own face in featherlight kisses, his beard tickling across your skin.

The two of you laugh heavily until he rolls on top of you, settling between your legs and caging you in. Frankie kisses you soundly, the air in the room instantly changing. “How's this for a reminder?" he offers, trailing a path down your body until he reaches the apex of your thighs.

You're tightly grasping the sheets on either side of you moments later.

A convincing argument indeed.

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[sasquach-scratches]

Eolan Roche

Alias: Edouard

He/Him Breton 29 (Planemeld Arc), 36 (Current)

Citizenship: Daggerfall Covenant Alliance War Rank: Corporal

Titles: Tamriel Hero, Emeric's Champion, Monster Hunter, Fighter's Guild Victor, Undaunted, Magnanimous, Kingmaker, Hero of Wrothgar, Stormproof, Numinous Aegis

Class: Templar Weapon Skills: One-Handed and Shield, Two-Handed Armor Skills: Heavy World Skills: Lycanthropy Guild Skills: Fighter's Guild, Undaunted Crafting Skills: Blacksmithing, Provisioning

A Breton warrior from Evermore, though being a man of few words, this is a detail that is rarely divulged. As terse and intimidating as he may be, he is a man of honor and virtue that only draws his blade when absolutely necessary.

His bearing suggests he is of noble birth, something that is seemingly confirmed by his admission to once being part of an illustrious knightly order in his home city. The details are sparse, but they suggest he left when his more romantic ideals of chivalry clashed with the reality of knighthood.

He once roamed High Rock as a mercenary for a good part of a decade, never staying in one place for too long and rarely showing his face. His travels came to an end when, after presumably crossing the wrong person, he was tricked and abducted by the Worm Cult and offered as a sacrifice to Molag Bal.

After his miraculous escape from Coldharbour, he took the role of the Prophet's champion without hesitation. As natural as a decision as it was for him, it was no secret that a major motivator was the apparent youth of his fellow Soul Shriven.

With the other candidates being a teenaged Argonian with anger issues and a Khajiit that didn't seem to be all there, it was clear that he was the only one qualified for a leadership role in his eyes.

Naturally, this was something that caused friction between him and his headstrong companion. Though he made his disapproval for her methods and illicit activities very vocal, he nevertheless offered unwavering protection and guidance to his young wards.

Overall, he appears to be a righteous and self-possessed man, but the reality is that it is merely a projection. Internally, he is constantly plagued by self-doubts and is often lost as a leader. He also carries the trauma of losing his soul to the King of Brutality, and often falls to existential crises regarding his Soul Shriven status and identity after death.

These issues were compounded as his wards began to come into their own. His perceived obsolescence combined with buried traumas that resurfaced as he revisited his home city led him to go as far as to infect himself with lycanthropy just to get an edge in combat.

Wracked with immense guilt over his "fall" while desperate to remain a valued protector to his companions only served to drive him further over the edge. Soon he would realize that his true self could not remain hidden away forever.

One Tamriel

As cracks began to show, Eolan's charges would prove themselves to be the true companions he so desperately needed. He was assured that he was much more to them than a simple guardian; he was a dear friend, and how "useful" he was to them wouldn't change that. For the first time in a very long time, he felt loved.

With trust came the desire to be open. He was known, as he truly was, without fear and worry. With that weight gone, he allowed himself to be proud of his friends and how far they had come.

With that came acknowledgement that his place wasn't necessarily as their champion. When his world and the worlds of his companions merged, he was content to be a humble hero of the people, leaving the world-shaking heroics to his hot-headed companion.

With the support he needed now his, he cast aside Hircine's blessing. With his soul where it belonged, he felt whole again, even if his old body had long since rotted. No matter what, he was still here, still himself, and he wasn't going anywhere.

====

Yet another one that took much, much longer than I thought it would lol. I did learn some new things when working on this tho

Some outfit notes!

Planemeld Arc Armor (all Breton Heavy)

Some notes on scars, cause I decided that they couldn't just Be There with no explanation lol Also cause I forgot:

-Right Arm- Grazed by trap (different from thigh)

I am once again gagged by not wanting to give away too many details about the character. I think I did an okay this time though.

Fun fact about his casual outfit post-One-Tamriel: he can't actually wear the outfit in-game because it looks weirdly big on him, but I wanted to draw him in something other than his usual ensemble so he'd stand out more from his earlier look.

I was thinking of giving him a makover for the High Isle arc but tbh I kinda gave up ESO in general after I got sick of the decline of the main quests lol

[thatgirl4815]

my main fear is that the apology is going to be off screen and the next time we’ll see them they’ll be fine again but narratively after an argument like that i don’t know why we wouldn’t see them making up. yea we got ray’s apology to sand but it wasn’t really him. i hope the writers take into account we want to see a semblance of that apology to real sand and don’t think it would be too repetitive or something

I hope so too, but if they put that much emphasis on the ending scene of Ep10 and just how big of a moment it was for Ray (both personally and in his feelings for Sand), then I don’t see how they could withhold an apology scene from us. Especially because this is the first fight we’ve seen between them where Sand’s motives have been put into question, which is arguably more serious than Ray’s indecisiveness about Sand and Mew. The apartment fight is, at least to me, the most broken and angry we have seen either character with each other, so I don’t think it makes narrative sense to simply brush that aside and move on like normal. Especially not after the admission of guilt and just general agony we saw Ray going through afterwards. We deserve to hear that apology as much as Sand does.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Hello, Vanserra Family drama/angst please.

Have some baybee Lucien and Good Big Brother Eris!!

Lucien was in huge trouble. Not only had he broken the rules by sneaking into his parents’ bedroom, he had broken one of the artifacts that Beron had proudly displayed on the wall. The shield had looked solid and sturdy, and was small enough that Lucien would be able to hold it. He had pulled a chair over to the wall and, reaching up on his tiptoes, pulled the shield away. While the metal surface of the shield was polished and strong, the arm bands behind it were brittle leather. They had snapped at the slightest bit of tension, and Lucien had tumbled to the ground with the shield on top of him. He had done his best to put it back, but it had very clearly been tampered with. It hung crooked from the wall on the remnants of the bands, and was dented along the edge from hitting the floor. All of Lucien’s instincts told him to scuttle away and hide, and hope that his father didn’t notice.

That evening at dinner, Beron coldly told the servants not to bring the meal out quite yet. Lucien froze, his eyes glued to the table surface in front of him, as Beron slid the damaged shield on the table in front of him.

“One of you little rats has deliberately disobeyed me,” Beron hissed. Lucien’s brothers shifted uncomfortably. Obviously none of them knew what had happened with the shield, only that one of them was about to be punished for it. “Not only did one of you go into my quarters and touch my things, but the coward then ran and hid instead of admitting to their insubordination and facing the consequences. I want the coward who did this to admit it. Now.”

Silence. The Vanserra boys didn’t even whisper amongst themselves for fear that any communication would be seen as an admission of guilt. Lucien’s heart thumped painfully in his throat and his hands began to sweat. Confess, he chided himself. Be a man. Tears had already begun to fill his eyes when he lifted his head to implicate himself.

“It was me.”

Beron’s head swiveled to the right, his eyes narrowing. “Eris? What were you thinking?”

Lucien’s mouth dropped open as Eris rose to his feet, back ramrod strength. “I’m sorry, sir. I got  curious and went into your room and broke the shield. I thought I could fix it.” 

Beron climbed to his feet as well. Although Eris was over one hundred and fully grown, his father towered over him. In an almost careless motion, Beron backhanded his eldest son across the face, sending him flying. “Go to your room. You don’t eat until I decide what to do with you.” Still dry-eyed, Eris obeyed. In the candlelight, Lucien could see the blisters across his brother’s cheek. Beron had superheated his hand before he had struck him.

Later, Lucien snuck up the stairs to the north tower, to Eris’s quarters. Eris was sitting at his desk, reading. Aside from the snow white bandage that covered half his face, it was as if nothing had happened.

“I know it was you.” Lucien started; he hadn’t realized that Eris had known he was lurking in the doorway. “None of our other brothers are stupid enough to go into Father’s quarters.”

“Why didn’t you tell him it was me?”

Eris appraised him; once he hit puberty, Lucien was likely to be taller than any of the other Vanserras, if his slender, lithe limbs were anything to go by. For now, though, he was the smallest. “I will next time.”

“Why not this time?” Lucien pushed. He didn’t know what he was hoping to hear.

“You’ll remember this in the future. I don’t tell on you this time, and you won’t tell on me when I’ve done something far worse.” Despite the cold words, there was a hint of a warm smile, just under the surface. “Go to bed, Lucien.”