#and i was immediately aware that i had to be the adult managing the conversation

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Needed Cuddles

You feel uncomfortable on the full bus at night, but your friends are there to take care of you. They need you just as much though.

Lee Minho/ Lee Know; Hwang Hyunjin, reader

Late night conversation and comfort, walking together, care and comfort, suggestive jokes, friendship

wc: 1716

It wasn't the first time you had to be on the train during the late hours of the day. Normally, the darkness didn't scare you, but it was a completely different story when you were surrounded by masses of people that you didn't know, that you haven't even seen before. On top of that, today's train got cancelled and you had to take the substituting bus. Therefore, the route was another factor of unfamiliarity.

After contemplating for good 20 minutes wether you should call Minho or not, you gave in, because your silent tears that made their way down your cheeks were a significant indicator for highly needed comfort.

'Hello?', sounded from your phone, followed by some audible steps and a final flop onto the sofa, you assumed.

'Hi', you whispered, because on one hand you didn't want to disturb the other passengers, and on the other hand you didn't trust your voice to not immediately tremble.

'You okay?', Minho asked without hesitation, his voice worried.

'Yes, it's just...', you trailed off and tried to find words that didn't feel totally silly.

You're an adult. For god's sake, you should be able to get home from work without crying.

to your friend about it.

'Breathe', Minho instructed, well aware of your habit to unvoluntarily hold your breath.

You felt better right away. Breathing helped, but so did hearing his voice.

'I'm on the bus', you managed to tell him and he hummed, waiting for you to continue.

'It's full here and dark. I got a seat, but I can't see much. It's dark', you stammered and fixated some lights in the distance.

'How long do you have to be on the bus?', he asked and you checked the app.

'One hour', you mumbled and hated everything about the situation you found yourself in.

'Keep breathing. Can you count the number of lights you see in the next five minutes? Say the numbers out loud to me, yeah? Can you do that?', he requested and you nodded, but then you remembered he wasn't here and couldn't see you, so you quickly added a hushed 'yes'.

'What's you favorite colour?', he suddenly asked and you responded, 'Red?', in confusion.

There were some street lanterns, so you counted, 'one , two, three, four, five'.

Minho didn't give you a break and asked:'Ass or tits?'

You chuckled, because you were too shy to burst out in laughter. You were in public after all.

'What?', you asked, now ultimately confused.

'Do you. Prefer. My ass. Or my tits', he repeated slower and overly pronounced.

'Hmmm. That's a tough question', you announced and added the numbers six to eleven on the lights list.

'Come on. Feel free to sexualize me. You won't get the chance too often', he chuckled and you wished you were at home already. His laugh sounded even prettier in person.

'That's a very limited amount of options. I can't choose!', you exclaimed and focoused on your breath a bit more again.

'Okayy. Then, do you prefer cuddling with Hyunjin or me?', he switched the question.

'Hey. Don't do that', you whispered and really strongly wished you were home.

'Lights?', he asked and you answered by saying 'thirteen'.

'He doesn't have a chance against me, right?', he added and you could vividly imagine his grin.

'Actually, I'd rank him higher than you', you joked.

'Ouch. Well, okay. No cuddles for you once you're home. And I was looking forward to holding and consoling you the whole night, but, oh well...', he sighed dramatically.

'I'll just go to Hyunjin's room then', you provoked further.

'You didn't call Hyunjin but me tho', he said seriously and you have to give him that point, but only because you didn't want to disturb Hyunjin in his evening's art routine.

'You also can't choose between his ass and tits, because they are basically nonexistent, making me a better cuddling partner. Choose wisely, dear idiot' Minho added and his time was funnily philosophical, as if he would spread holy wisdom.

All he achieved was making you smile at the ridiculousy. You felt lighter than before the call and added two more lights to the list.

Fifteen was the final number after the given time frame of five minutes and after another check-in about your current state and the assurance that you felt better, Minho started talking about his day, telling you many details down to the fur pattern of every cat he saw in the streets.

The bus stopped at the final destination and you got off happily. The people around you spread into various directions and when you finally got a clear view onto your path that leads home, you were paralysed in surprise due to the unexpected visitor that was smiling at you.

'Minho! When did you go to Hyunjin?', you almost screamed into the phone and were only met with Minho's evil laughter.

'There is this thing called texting and it works while being on a phone call, you dumbass', he explained and hung up with no further comment.

Hyunjin stepped in front of you, snatched your bag away and pulled you into a hug. His hair was pushed back with a hairband and there was some dried paint on his neck and when he pulled away, you found some more spots on his hands.

'I didn't want to disturb you', you mumbled, guilt rising, because he was outside at night instead of having a cozy painting session.

'You didn't. It was Minho', he responded and giggled, pulling your bag over his shoulder.

'Sorry', you apologised anyway and nodded into the direction you had to walk to.

Hyunjin just nodded, took your hand and tucked you closer next to him while you two started walking.

You were freezing by the time you finally entered the appartment complex and you were sure it was rather due to your tiredness than the cold evening air. Hyunjin knocked on the apartment's door and Minho opened, looking bored, almost annoyed.

'Good evening', Hyunjin chirped and put on an extra cheerful and energized character to annoy Minho who was clearly tired and impatient at this late hour.

'Go lick some more paint', Minho mumbled, but contrary to his words, patted Hyunjin's shoulder in a friendly manner and smiled at him, nonverbally thanking him.

Hyunjin just shook his head and gave you a quick goodbye hug and handed you your bag.

Stepping into the dorm was the best feeling you could have imagined this evening. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but actually, you were to tired to give into even one of those impulses.

Minho trailed off into the kitchen and you went to take a shower. There was a cup of ramen and a glass of water on the living room table once you returned, originally because you wanted to go to bed. However, Minho called you and told you to eat.

'You need energy after today's stress', he reminded you and watched you until you finished everything he put in front of you. He vanished and returned with freshly cut peaches once and another time with some chocolate, because according to him, chocolote was necessary to finish an overwhelming day. Of course, you didn't dare to disagree.

With freshly brushed teeth you finally made your way to your room and layed down, quickly texting Minho and Hyunjin messages to express how thankful you were for them being there for you this evening and then in no time sleep took over your tired mind and body.

You woke up at the sound of someone knocking on your door and when it cracked open slightly, the light from the living room entered.

'What?', you groaned and got Minho's chuckle as an response.

'Did I wake you?', he then proceeded to ask and you told him that, yes, this was the fucking case.

'Just wanted to say that you did well today', he mumbled and you, still half asleep and barely registering his words, nodded.

'Okay. What do you want?', you grumbled, honestly pissed that he woke you up.

'I promised you cuddles', he said cutely and you hated it, but laughed after all.

'You big baby. Be honest, do you want some cuddles?', you asked, fully aware of his enjoyment of regular cuddle sessions that he always claimed to just be kinda okay with and is mainly doing them, because you or the others needed them.

'Nah, I don't. Just thought you wanted', he huffed and was about to close the door again, but you hurried out of bed and held onto the door. The blanked was halfly wrapped around one leg, luckily didn't cause you to stumble, and you noticed that you were still holding onto one plushie. You laughed at this observation and Minho eyed you up and down and laughed as well.

'You're embaressing', he joked and patted the plushie in your arm.

'So are you. Just for the record, you would be trapped in my arms just like this little furball here, when I'd have to get up while we cuddled', you said, nodding down.

Minho pulled the plushie away from you.

'You'd let someone pull me away that easily too?', he questioned.

'If it was someone I trust, then yes', you explained and saw Minho's eyes widen.

Absently, he handed you back plushie.

'Can we now cuddle? I'm too tired to make you ask for them yourself', you whined and went back to bed.

Minho closed the door and followed you. He freed you from the blanket trap and tucked you in, before he pulled you into his frame, holding you close.

'You did well today too, Minho', you mumbled against him and buched his bangs out of his eyes.

'Thanks. Are you okay now?'.

He pulled the blanket over himself and you pushed the pillow further under his head. He dropped into it with a content sigh.

'I'm okay. I'm so tired, I'll be gone in two seconds', you announced and Minho hummed in recognition.

'I needed those cuddles today as well', he whispered, but you were already back asleep, the plushie squeezed between you two and one arm thrown around Minho's waist, pinning him comfortably close to you for the next few hours.

[crazyunsexycool]

So Lottie and Henry know about Bucky? Like his winter soldier story?

What is their reaction to it when they find out?

Good question and the answer is yes and no.

Henry is aware of Bucky being the Winter Soldier because he was also trained to be the Winter Soldier and had been programmed with the trigger words. He just isn’t aware of the all the thing Bucky was made to do in detail but he’s a smart kid so he knows Bucky was forced to do bad things.

Charlotte has no idea. She is aware that Bucky, Henry, herself and Sugar were hurt by the “bad men” but she doesn’t know anything else. When she does find out it will be in a very heartbreaking way because Bucky and Sugar were going to tell her (to an extent) about the Winter Soldier but they were waiting until she was older like in her teens. This is how she finds out and the aftermath of it…

The truth comes out

Warning: angst, mean adult, Charlotte crying, Bucky crying, (now I’m crying)…

Charlotte was excited for a new school year. She was older now, a whole 7 years old. She was smarter and excited to make new friends. The only thing that made her nervous was a vision of a mean adult, a parent of a classmate to be precise.

For the first month Lottie managed to avoid this parent but eventually she made friends with this woman’s son. Everything for Charlotte came tumbling down when this mean woman came into the classroom to help the teacher for the afternoon. She walked in and saw her son playing happily with Charlotte. The teacher stepped out for a moment and immediately the woman Lottie had visions about stomped over to separate them.

“Derek, I told you to stay away from her.” She snaps at her son.

“But why mommy? Lottie’s my friend.”

“Because she’s bad.”

“I’m not bad. I’m good, I promise.” Lottie defends herself with a small pout.

“You’re bad just like your dad.”

Lottie started crying silently. “You’re a liar. My dad isn’t bad. He’s good, he’s a superhero.”

“No he isn’t.” The woman gets in Lottie’s face. “He likes to hurt people because he’s bad. And so are you.”

Charlotte runs out of the room crying. She runs into her teacher who tries to soothe her enough to figure out what happened. Lottie can only ask for you between sobs.

She’s still crying when you pick her up and she only ask for Bucky so you drove back to the compound in hopes that maybe he could do something about whatever this was.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had been training new recruits in the gym when the doors burst open.

“Daddy.” Lottie cried as she ran to him.

He barely managed to open his arms to catch him. When Lottie was finally in his arms she started crying all over again. The recruits, who had grown fond of Lottie, were all showing concern for the rather unusual behavior for her.

“Recruits, take a ten minute break.” Bucky orders as he picks Charlotte up so that he can go somewhere private to figure out what was wrong.

****

“Why are you crying, doll? Did someone hurt you?” Bucky was doing his best to not shed his own tears. He didn’t like to see his kids upset.

“A mean lady at school said you’re a bad man. She said you like to hurt people and that I’m bad too. But you’re not bad daddy. You’re good.”

“I’m so sorry doll.” Bucky brought her into a hug so that she wouldn’t see his own tears.

You had stayed back while they talked but you reached out to Bucky. This was his worst fear. That someone would tell Charlotte the truth about him before he had the chance to explain. Now he’d have to tell his little girl the truth about his past and hope that she didn’t see him any differently than before.

The conversation was the most difficult thing you and Bucky had to sit through. Charlotte was a crying mess while listening to her dad explain as best as he could that bad men made him hurt people. At some points you had to step in and explain because Bucky got too emotional to talk. In the end Lottie looked defeated as she walked out of the office without a word. You asked Friday to get Steve so that he could comfort Charlotte while you stayed to help Bucky. It had been years since you’d seen him so upset about his past. And you knew he was going to hate himself all over again because of this. All you could do now was figure out a way to fix it and then find the woman who hurt your family and maybe kick her ass.

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

The solution to the first issue came on its own when right before bedtime you found Lottie standing at your bedroom door.

“Daddy?” Lottie called out quietly.

“What is it doll?”

“Will you read me a bedtime story?”

You could see the tension in Bucky’s shoulders melt away. He’d been so distraught all afternoon that you weren’t sure you’d be able to help him out of that dark hole he was digging himself into.

“Of course I can.”

Lottie made her way to your bed, book in one hand and her pink teddy bear in the other then she made herself comfortable snuggled up next to her dad. Bucky took the book and gently started reading. You stayed quiet and let them have their moment.

“Daddy?” Lottie interrupted the bedtime story.

“Yeah doll?” Bucky says softly. You hated seeing him walking on eggshells around his own child.

“I don’t think you’re a bad man.”

“You don’t?” Bucky’s voice was thick with emotions.

“No,” she said while wrapping her arms as best she could around Bucky’s midsection. “Bad men don’t read bedtime stories, or play tea party or save the world. But you do.”

This time Bucky couldn’t hold back the tears and neither could you. He kissed the top of her head but his eyes were on you.

“And bubba said the bad men made him do bad stuff too, but he isn’t bad.”

“That’s true he’s the best bubba ever.”

“And you’re the best daddy ever. I love you so much.”

“I love you more, doll.”

Bucky held on to Charlotte until they both fell asleep. In the end she still adored her daddy because even if he’d done bad things he wasn’t a bad man. She was smart enough to understand that. Even though this wasn’t how Bucky planned to tell her it was now done with. He’d work hard every day for the rest of his life to prove to his little girl that she was right. That he wasn’t a bad man, because he wasn’t.

[blushweddinggowns]

Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies has been updated! A snippet is below~

~

Eddie was…an idiot. A moron, a fool, maybe even a simpleton. He was always self-aware enough to know that he had a habit of making terrible choices. But he thought that he had gotten better about it. That’s how it was supposed to work right? He had the shitty childhood, the rise and fall of fame, experienced drug-fueled self-destruction, got sober, got his career and life back on track. All of that should have meant that he was a more emotionally mature person. An adult who was capable of creating long-lasting relationships built on trust.

Clearly, he had underestimated just how inept at life he really was. Because somehow, against all odds, he finally found someone he wanted to be with. Someone who didn’t care about his fame or his money, someone who wanted to be around him just because Eddie was who he was. Not to mention someone who was…so beautiful. Inside and out. Someone who deserved so much better than Eddie Munson. He had actually managed to find someone who felt perfect for him. And he had already fucked everything up. Ruined it before it could even start. Because Eddie was having a very, very hard time trying to figure out ways to recover from his own bullshit.

He thought about it all the time, finally coming clean and accepting the consequences of his own lies. He’d thought about sitting Steve down for it, making it a big open and honest conversation about his feelings and fears or whatever the fuck. Or he could just casually put it out there. Maybe if he just acted like it was no big deal then he could magically convince Steve of the same.

Hey babe? Do you remember how I said I live in the city and do tattoos for a living? Well, actually, I don’t live here. Or even in this state. And I’m one of those rich and famous psychos you hate. I just started renting this place because I met you and proceeded to become obsessed after our first date. Just wanted to let you know. You want to get some ice cream or something?

Or…maybe not.

Eddie knew what the right thing to do was. But Eddie didn’t get to where he was today by being an altruistic and self-sacrificing person. He had no intentions of giving what they had up. Not yet. Not when he had never felt like this before. As ironic as it was, lying about his identity made Eddie feel more like himself than he had in years. When he was with Steve he was just… Eddie. No performances, no personas. He wasn’t worrying about his image or saying the wrong thing. He just got to be him. Or as much of him as he could be while hiding major facets of his life.

This whole thing was such a mess. His first plan of a one night-stand immediately fell to shit. Then his genius second one of just waiting for things to fizzle away turned out to be just as fucking stupid. So now here he was, desperately trying to think of what to do next.

He knew that he was a coward for keeping the whole charade going. He was a bad person for it. He knew that. But he also knew that he loved waking up next to Steve in the mornings. He loved making them both coffee and watching him do his hair, always ready to reassure him that yes, sweetheart. It looks fine in the back.

He knew that Steve’s smile was enough to make his day, that a single phone call from him could set Eddie off into a sickeningly sweet mood for hours.He knew that he loved making him laugh, that he was willing to do a variety of embarrassing things just to hear that bright sound. He knew that he loved fighting with him over music in the car, and every other mundane thing about life that Steve managed to suddenly make interesting. 

But most of all, he knew that he didn’t want any of it to end. Ever. Not if he could help it. All Eddie wanted was to take care of Steve. To make him happy, to be the man that Steve thought Eddie was. And the very thought of losing all of that was enough to make his eyes water. 

So now here he was. On to plan three. Pray to the gods above that Steve would fall for him just as hard as he was. Or at least enough for him to stay around when Eddie finally came clean. Eddie… wanted Steve to need him. In the same way that Eddie felt like he needed Steve. He wanted him to not be able to imagine his life without him, for it to get bad enough for his lies to seem insignificant in the face of their connection. If Eddie could manage that, then he would tell him. 

He just needed some reassurance. Some kind of guarantee that this wouldn’t all end in fire and brimstone when he finally opened his mouth. Which, again, was very, very stupid. But Eddie was a stupid, delusional, lovesick man these days. It fits. 

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumpuary #8: Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" Alt #5: Headache

CW: uhhh...unhealthy self-sacrificial mentality? Nothing too intense

Caretaker had a headache.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal; headaches were something that just happened in people’s day-to-day lives sometimes. But it was a really painful one. And they couldn’t just sleep it off, they had responsibilities.

They needed to be around for Whumpee. Whumpee might not be as fragile or incapable as they’d been earlier in their recovery, but they still deserved someone stable and dependable.

The painful sensation relentlessly pounded through their brain, but Caretaker braced themself and moved on to the next thing they had to do for the day. They could do this. It would hurt, but they could do this.

Caretaker winced, then frowned, displeased with themself. They were being a baby about this. Whumpee had experienced so much worse. Caretaker really had no excuse to be this out of sorts over a headache.

They grimaced as pain lanced through their skull. This wasn’t going to be fun.

Well, nothing to do but push onward. Caretaker took an ibuprofen and started cooking the next meal for the two of them. Partway through the process, Whumpee entered the kitchen and started chatting with them. Caretaker hid their pain behind smiles and pleasant conversation, not wanting to concern Whumpee.

Unfortunately, Whumpee was too observant for that. They caught Caretaker wincing and squeezing their eyes shut in a moment of weakness.

“Caretaker, are you feeling alright?” Whumpee looked worried.

“It’s just a headache,” Caretaker said, hoping to dismiss the subject. It wasn’t Whumpee’s issue to have to worry about.

Whumpee didn’t seem convinced. “Okay, but how bad of a headache? You don’t look like you’re feeling very well.”

“It’s…yeah. I’m not,” Caretaker confessed.

“Why don’t you take a break? I can take care of things here.”

Caretaker shook their head, and immediately regretted it. Ow. “You shouldn’t have to do that. You’re still in recovery.”

“The late stages of recovery. It’ll be alright. I can manage for one day.”

“But it’s my job to take care of you! You’ve already been through so much, I can’t add to your plate.”

“Caretaker.”

They flushed, chastised. “Yeah, okay. You’re an adult. If you say you can manage, it wouldn’t be fair of me to insist you can’t.”

Whumpee gave them a smile in response.

“But,” Caretaker added, “if it starts to feel like too much, or you need something from me, please tell me and let me help. A headache is something I can push through, and I don’t want you sacrificing your health for mine.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

Caretaker allowed themself to relax a little more with that established. A refreshed awareness of their discomfort drew a groan from them as less worry for Whumpee made room for more focus on their own pain.

“Let’s get you off your feet,” Whumpee said. They walked Caretaker to Caretaker’s bedroom. Caretaker couldn’t help but sigh in relief as they entered the room with the light left off, the darkness easing their headache.

Whumpee sat them down on the bed. “Take a rest. I’m going to go finish cooking the food.”

Caretaker sat on the edge of their bed, feeling useless.

Pain danced under their skull as they waited. Being in darkness and not having to do anything both helped, but didn’t get rid of the headache entirely.

After a few minutes, Whumpee came in with a plate of hot food. They handed it to Caretaker and sat down next to them with a gentle smile. “You’ve done so much to take care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

“Thanks, Whumpee.” Caretaker looked down. They felt torn between being guilty that Whumpee had to do this, and touched that they were so willing to. But Whumpee was pretty capable; maybe everything would be fine after all.

They ate. Whumpee took the plate after they were done. Caretaker hesitated to just let this all happen; they didn’t want to make Whumpee do the work.

“Come on, Caretaker. Lie down.” Whumpee pushed them back, gently enough that they could resist it if they wanted but forcefully enough to make it clear what they wanted from Caretaker.

Caretaker gave in with a small sigh and lay back on their pillow.

“You just worry about getting better. I’ve got this,” Whumpee reassured them. Whumpee left the room and closed the door behind them, shutting out the light from the hall.

Caretaker believed it. The pain eased up a bit more as they finally allowed themself to fully relax.

[vinegar-rights]

thoughts on my version of little shop of horrors: seymours mother :p (read tags plz)

I like to combine aspects of the 1986 and the 1960 films :3.

He was put up for adoption as a baby, too expensive to care for a child. Seymour grew up assuming he was an orphan and was put into the custody of Mr. Mushnik. As he became older, he figured that he DID have a biological mother and she was still alive. He tried to reach out to meet her, but she refused to keep contact. He never met her until he became more well known, with newspapers covering the story of him and his new special plant. His success reached her and Seymour was delighted to know that he was finally going to meet his mother after so many years. Who knew fame was this powerful?

She requested that he visit her apartment for dinner. The woman was older, with messy gray-white hair and eyes that matched seymours, mousey and nervous. She welcomed her son but not without a quick check-up, only to make sure he won't drop dead right at that moment.

The apartment was messy, but no smell of mildew or sight of mold. A clean-ish hoarding situation, there were boxes everywhere full of who knows what and half-used first aid kits. The lack of bugs is what made Seymour confused, cockroaches were a common bug, especially in more drafty, more run down apartments like in Skid Row. He developed a bit of a phobia, growing up around the critters in skid rows home for boys. Dirty. Gross. Even as an adult he sometimes would sit up in bed in the middle of the night, scanning his room for any nocturnal bugs that would skitter in for shelter from the elements.

Seymour was immediately put off by the kitchen, where dinner was cooking. His mother had been talking the entire time, rambling something about the shop and what was in the paper that day, he tuned her out as he became more aware of his surroundings. The kitchen had bottles full of medicine, pill bottles aligned in rows on the counter, and already there's a napkin out with a glass of water with an assortment of pills that are ready to be consumed.

he noticed Seymour's quietness and slight discomfort, who was gazing at the view of her kitchen. She turned to explain her many issues, bad back, sinus infection, constant cold, her appendix got removed recently, ect. Her explanation managed to visibly calm her son's nerves, but he was still eyeing what was on the stove. Seymour tried not to pay mind to his mother's cooking, she was gracious enough to try to form a connection with him, and even asked him to come over! He turned to her to change the subject, he didn't want it to seem like he was judging her. They talked throughout the afternoon about what happened in the past years, and how they found each other. Most of the conversation was directed at Seymour: How did you find the plant? What kind is it? Oh, its a cross between a flytrap and what exactly? You don't know? You must be getting a lot of press, any opportunities? You were asked to host a TV show?ect. There were so many questions that Seymour wasn't to ask his own, he wanted to know why it took so long to talk to her, where was she this entire time, why didn't she reach out first?

Eventually, she passed him a bowl of whatever was in the pot in the kitchen. He didn't notice any food on the counter. The soup smelled sweet, like cough syrup. He opted to drink more of the water she offered, but he didn't want to be rude, he consumed some of the dinner. She grinned as she ate her food with her son, explaining that this is a staple of her household. The aftertaste after one spoonful made his whole body shiver as if he drank bitter wine. Out of fear of potentially offending her and risking her cutting him off forever, he ate a little bit more, cringing at the taste. Quickly he started becoming nauseous. He paused, looking more closely at the bowl, there was little to no actual food, there was a broth of course, but little to no items that would be the cause of this spike in anxiety and confusion. Something dawned on him. While his mother was watching him in between spoonfuls, she asked if he was okay. He nodded but politely declined any more. His newly reunited mother was either horribly ill all the time or a hypochondriac. He didn't need a high school education to know that. The pills and bottles on the counter were another explanation. This wasn't regular soup. She was drugging him. He sat up from the realization, and his mother became more worried at his sudden change of personality. She asked him if he was alright again, if he didn't like her food. He replied hastily that it was amazing, it's just that he remembered he left the stove on-- no, he needed to check on twoey, around this time her leaves should get washed. She accepted that explanation, and began pushing him out the door to help him on his way to Mushnik and Sons. As soon as Seymour was on the sidewalk outside of her apartment, he turned to an alleyway nearby. Fearful of whatever was in his system, he tried to throw up.

He became experienced when he accidentally ingested pesticide as a child and had to induce vomiting to avoid a hospital visit. He ran home, still feeling some residual effects of the drugs, despite only ingesting a little. The shop was empty and dark, Mr. Mushnik and Audrey went home early that day. He drank water and tried to calm himself. He found himself leaning next to audrey ii's pot, mind racing from the events that transpired. His strange mother, the apartment, the "food".

Tears sprang from his eyes as he thought everything over. She only cared to reach out as soon as he became famous. She didn't care to reach out to what was presumably her only child and never gave an explanation as to why she gave him away. He felt used. Defeated, he cried into his clammy hands. Why is everyone so cruel? Was twoey right? That some people were evil by fault and needed to die? His thoughts were deafening his senses, and didn't notice a vine curl around his body and pulled toward the sentient plant. Twoey could read his mind, which was why she knew what his innermost desires were. Turns out trying to get Seymour to reunite with his mother was a bad idea. He tired himself out after 2 hours, one of her vines snaked around his wrist and fingers, sensing Seymour's ratial artery to monitor his heart rate. He was asleep eventually, blanketed by twoeys vines and leaves. Thanks to Seymour, Orin left twoey satisfied for the past week, though maybe she could convince him again for another meal sometime soon.

[yanderefairyangel]

Engage, 3 Houses and the "aesthetic of deep"

Alright, so this post will be comparing the uncomparable in order to make a point about how this fandom can easily be fooled by appearances and first impressions

So recently on TwittX I made a post asking

for context I made this after someone told me about the story establishing that Sombron raised Zephia....(no comment) and I got some interesting answers

Basically saying that the reason why people managed to misunderstand some plot point if not the entire story it was because "Engage had a "too simple" aesthetic opposed to 3H's "too complex" aesthetic".

For example, I received one answer saying this

I'll spare you the big details of this conversation but I choose this quote cause it was what stuck me the most. Alright, let's sum up what happened in the begining of 3H and Engage ok ?

3H : dream of Rhea/Seiros killing Nemesis, you chose you Avatar after talking with Sothie, you meet the Lords who need to defeat a bandit named Kostas, you get nearly killed, Sothie save you and give you the power to rewind time, you do it, you save the kids, they immediately tell you they want to hire you, you go to Garrech March and get hired as a teacher and got to choose one class. By 3 chapters, all you do is essentially mission and at some points, Jeratl dies, you fused with Sothie to escape a trap set by Solon and the war begins in chapter 11-12 where Eddie declares war.

Engage : you make a dream that will be explained by a time loop in chapter 24 where you fight the final boss and that you save the world. You wake up surrounded by Stewards telling you you are a dragon revered as a deity, you encounter monster, you try to run away but have to save the twins who risked their life to help you escape, Marth lend you a hand, you beat them and as more appears, your mother arrives to help you. She takes you to the castle where she explains to you that the Dragon that tried to destroy the world might have awoken and that you have to prepare yourself. You train. You go sleep and boom, people attack by surprise and steal the rings, killed your mother and you end up with the fate of the whole world relying on your shoulder when you are amnesiac, woke up from coma and just lost your mother that you didn't even had the time to properly mourn. By the time of chapter 10, the stakes were already established : Alear as the fate of an entire world on their shoulder, they are aware of it, they lost their mother, are amnesiac, weak and dependant. Byleth on the other hand has a new job and have to choose a class. Which one has bigger stakes ? Well according to the one who made the comment, it's 3H

"saving the world is pretty boring to me now".

Somehow, fans will find the premise of saving the world boring compared to choosing your class.

And reading more of the OP's answer made it clear why he thinks like that. It's all because of the aesthetic.

3H has the aesthetic of deep. Engage has the aesthetic of something that is just "silly" or simple.

This means that 3H, no matter what it does will be seen as having a deep story because it has the looks of it. And that Engage, no matter what it does, will be seen as no more then what it present on first glance because it doesn't have the "aesthetic of deep".

3H looks more mature from a art direction point of view, it has darker colors and strives to be an adult war chronicle

Engage has a more colorful artstyle that is perceived as childish because "anime" and strives to be a tradtional hero saves the world journey.

One sounds more complex with the several route, the other too simple. So, as a result, the fans never tries to go look beyond that.

They won't question 3H's depth or Engage's simplicity. And it is a problem.

The two are not comparable because of those precisely very different aesthetic but 3H's story makes it even more of an outlier as every story as always been like Engage's about a hero's journey. The devs said as much in the Engage interview. The only difference is that Engage never tries to wear the political make up that some game could use : FE 1/11/3/12 ? Marth's adventures. FE2/15 : Alm and Celica (mostly Alm's) adventures. FE 4 ? In reality, it's about Sigurd and then Seliph's struggling to save the world. FE5 ? Leif's journey. FE 6 ? Roy's. FE7 ? Eliwood's and his friends. FE 8 ? The Renais twins's. The Tellius game ? About Ike and then Micaiah's journey. Awakening ? About Chrom, Lucina and Robin's journey. Fates ? Corrin's journey.

3H is the only game that actually tries to deal with the war in a way that is not a make up, but even that is not true when Edelgard and Dimitri's route are about their journey in growing as a person.

Engage is following the pattern here. Thus 3H, no matter how light the stakes are (choosing a class) will always seems deeper and higher then the one set by Engage, because saving the world has become such a common scenario people don't even question the gravity of it anymore. This aesthetic of simplicity that Engage is considered to have make it impossible for them to actually pause and try to consider what it feels to be in Alear's shoes : to be amnesiac, having woke from coma, knowing nothing from the world, being scared by everything, being unable to manage the fights without exterior aid and having lost your mother. And it's not even thinking about the implications of this scene once you know about the whole story, that makes this begining a lot more darker.

If you put your shoes in Byleth's... you don't even know what consequences you choice will have because you just choose your class based on which one appealed to you the most. That"s all. The divorce between the player and the self insert couldn't be higher cause no matter how much foreshadowing 3H has when it comes to this decision.... nothing changes the fact that Byleth will never knew nor expect the consequences of their action, which makes the stakes rather flat in contrast to Engage's where you are facing someone who is mourning and has to safe the world, a 17 year old who just woke up and will have to mature up quickly to become a hero. Really, which stakes are higher when you look deeper into it ?

And that's not getting into how replaying changes the perception of most of Engage's first moment. Chapter 2 was at first a very light hearted chapter, but when you realize it was written to parallel with chapter 25, what it represent to Lumera and Alear, the evolution... all of this elevate a fun chapter 2 into a tragic bounding between mother and child making the light hearted of this moment shines even brighter, cause you know that you will lose Lumera, that Alear will lose their mother even though they don't know yet that it was their very first time in being family with Lumera and the tragedy repeats each time you replay.

In 3H, this doesn't exist. Take for example the one moment that happens at least thrice ; the battle between the three lords. It happens in the first chapter of White Clouds, the chapter 7 and... in one of the chapter of AM. So basically, you have all those infor about the Battle of the Lion and the Eagle and for some reason this chapter doesn't exist in CF and SS ? And unlike in Engage where the response to Lumera's death from Alear was very different and meant to showcase their developpement... the reaction from your students remains the same in chapter 1 and 7. So... no progression. Byleth will smile but ... that's it. Just that. And I know, they don't emote often but ... that's just it. This doesn't help when this reaction doesn't really matter in route that don't have the chapter supposed to parallel with that one. And also, you are supposed to have a feast after the battle where all the students bond together... you see nothing of it. You just spend time with your students, whom are perfectly safe on the route cause none of them will die....let's say, this doesn't make this moment as striking as Engage's chapter 2 cause in chapter 2 you don't just see, you PARTICIPATE at what is supposed to be Lumera and Alear's first and last moment as family. So which balancing between dark and light is stronger ?

3H's deep aesthetic will lead people to not question some of the game's event to judge it as what it is and that's why most people are more forgivng of it's flaws such as style over substance, something that seems deep turning out to be rather shallow etc.

Engage doesn't have this aesthetic so it leads people to not try to look past its simple, to insist on it flaws and exagerate them and to not try to understand the depth hidden behing small things.

To put it simple people think 3H is deeper because it does big and Engage is bare bones cause it has the look of it bcause it does smaller.

And this mindest is actually misguided cause it's not quantity that matters but quality. The talent of a good writers isn't in "I am gonna make a lot of big things to make it seems deep and complex" it's being able to put a lot of subltely and nuancing in very small things or even obvious one just for you to realize the deeper meaning of it.

Take Sombron's name for example. People mock it as being generic cause it's dark in French. But how many of them will look into the actual etymology of Sombre ? How many will find out that its' based on a verb in old french which means to enshade and reflect his role as being the one who corrupts everything and plunged the world into darnkness ? How many will realize that his weapon, Obscurité is deepening this concept as it is supposed to show that the darkness he cast are deadly ? How many will look at his design to reason "ah yes, he looks like that cause he is meant to reprsent Alear's trauma" ?

This is the same mindset as people who won't look at Grima past evil dragon when he is the refletion of Robin's despair and fear.

This isn't just Engage. All the game that are considered "bad" by the fandom cause simple don't try to look anydeeper then this, but when it has the look of something dark, greedy, and complex it checks the box of the "aesthetic of deep" and therefore people will consider it to be deep, doesn' matter if in reality it isn't

Likewise if a media doesn't check the boxes, they will look at it as simply what it appears and not search any deeper

That's ultimately the reason why people were disappointed by Engage after 3H : it refused to embrace the same "aesthetic" as 3H. So it doesn't matter that the story is actually deeper then it is, they won't believe it because the aesthetic doesn't appeal to them.

[daddydindjarin]

The Long and Winding Road Part II: Mississippi

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no physical description of the Reader given) 

Rating: 18+ Mature 

Wordcount: 2875 

Summary: You hit your must see spots in Mississippi, and you fight back every bit of attraction to this broad stranger that you can. It’s a losing battle. 

A/N: What can I say, this is wholly self indulgent. And un-beta’d. Lemme know if you see any glaring errors!  Dividers by @firefly-graphics! Thank you especially to the discord besties and @the-ginger-hedge-witch​ for listening to my panic over actually writing something more than a one-shot, and for all the great tips. Especially the road trip ideas. 

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Frankie couldn’t figure her out.

He had spent years in the military, interacting with people from all walks of life. From the rich kids following in their parent’s footsteps, to fresh faced kids straight from high school looking for a naïve hope at an opportunity to build a better future than the past they had, most people were the same. They were greedy, self-serving, and usually just bastards with a hidden agenda. He counted himself among them, from the jobs he took for money, to nights spent high on cocaine and the touch of someone who he could pretend he loved for a few hours.

But this woman…

He glanced over at her from the driver’s seat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as the first thing he saw were her feet propped up on the dashboard, the long line of her bare legs tucked up to rest her journal on her knees. Her hair was pulled back away from her face so the wind didn’t blow it all over the place, and she was humming along to Stevie Nicks’ dulcet tones crooning from the radio.

They had been traveling for two days, stopping at every whim she had. An afternoon was spent in St. Augustine and Ponte Vedra, touring the light house, and walking the beach. The morning saw them in Savannah, Georgia, eating breakfast along the marshes. True to her word, he paid for nothing, even with a neat $15,000 burning a hole in his pocket. She purchased every meal, snacks, drinks, and even offered to buy souvenirs for Gabriela. The first night, she offered to sleep in the Jeep instead of the popup rooftop tent on the Jeep’s roof, which he turned down almost immediately. They had argued back and forth, with her stubbornly reminding him that he was the one driving, and needed a good night’s sleep, so they finally came to an agreement just to share the small space.

“We’re both adults,” she had said, rifling through the small suitcase in the backseat. “We can share a bed.”

“Yeah,” he agreed finally, realizing her stubbornness would win out in the end, “that’s fine. I’ve slept in worse places.”

She laughed, starting the climb up to the tent, “Careful what you speak into the universe. Maybe I snore, and you’re in for a rough night.”

Frankie barked out a laugh, “I doubt it’ll be worse than some of the guys I’ve bunked down with.”

It was worse.

She didn’t snore, although she did talk in her sleep, trying to have a conversation with no one for the better part of the night. But even that was nothing compared to the way he woke up with her wrapped around him like a lifeline, her face buried in his chest. They had started off back to back, pushed as far to the edges of the pallet as they could get, and sometime between drifting off while talking about their favorite songs, and the sun rising, they had wound up in the center of the tent, his arms wrapped around her, and her leg thrown over his. She had managed to push her covers off of her, but then sought the warmth that Frankie gave off in her sleep.

Frankie had quickly and quietly extracted himself from her hold before scrambling down the ladder, the brisk autumn air doing nothing to calm his heart or other parts of his anatomy that was all too aware that a gorgeous woman was feet away, and had been in close proximity. The shame burned at the back of his neck, but he found himself wanting to return to the tent, and curl back up to sleep in her arms.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since then, even as they were well on their way into Alabama. He chalked it up to proximity and loneliness, only having his hand for company the last few months as he stayed clean, determined to do right by his kid, even if that meant suffering through the withdrawals and the craving to lose himself and his memories in a drug that offered nothing but forgetting and despair at the end of the high.

She, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know about their nighttime encounter. She was happily watching the trees as they drove and would occasionally look down to her journal to scribble something down, a sentence here, a doodle there. He had seen her press a wild flower into the pages in Talladega  National Forest, and use it as a coaster for tea in Tuscaloosa. She carried it with her everywhere, fishing it out of her bag for reasons unknown to him, sometimes to scrawl a reminder, and other times spending a few moments writing before smiling up at him, telling him she was ready to move on.

She was an enigma to him, altruistic and kind to everyone they ran into. She really did spend most of her time looking at the things she was interested in, not concerned with taking photos of the view, even as she offered to take his photo for him, which he usually declined, except on the rare occasion he found a chance to send a photo of himself with a giant swordfish in Savannah to Pope, captioned, “finally found the fish you said you had on the line when you pulled that boot.”

He received a middle finger emoji as a response.

He had expected a lot of chatter as they drove, one of the reasons he had tallied in the “con” section of why he should take this job. It ranked fairly low on the list however, and the payload far outweighed any reason he could give to skip out on the opportunity. He was surprised though, when the first six hours had passed only interrupted by her humming, and the occasional request to stop somewhere. It wasn’t as if it was an awkward silence that you can chalk up to being in a confined space with a literal stranger, but instead a comfortable atmosphere where no words were really needed. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this was the most peaceful he had felt in a while, and instead turned the volume up on the radio, tapping his fingers along to Como La Flor.

You had three missed texts from Alyssa, checking in to make sure that Benny’s pilot friend hadn’t actually killed you on day one of the road trip, and you made a mental note to text her back at the next stop. You knew if you tried to read too much while in the car, you’d be hit with a migraine, and you didn’t feel like having Frankie pull over just so you could get sick this early into the trip.

Speaking of Frankie…

You peeked over at him, watching his head bop along to the music, and you could feel the smile straining against your lips as you whipped your head back around to watching the passing trees. It was crazy how attracted to him you were. From his long eyelashes framing those deep puppy dog eyes, to his plump lips that you had to force yourself not to watch as he spoke, you knew that you were quickly developing a crush on him. Which was normal you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was normal to be attracted to someone. It didn’t mean you had to act on it. And there wasn’t a chance of anything happening really. The trip was only three months long, and then you’d be leaving, so it was pointless to even think about romance.

This wasn’t a 90s rom com. This was the trip of a lifetime, and you were going to enjoy the time you had left on it, not spend it worrying about Francisco Morales and his dumb cowlick that he thought was well hidden under that Standard Oil baseball cap.

Passing under the exit sign for Columbus, Alabama, you checked your map again, looking for anything that caught your eyes. “Oh!” you exclaimed, tapping the map. “You should take this exit!”

Frankie imperceptibly turned his head to look at where you were pointing on the map, an eyebrow raised. “Tupelo?”

“Yeah! Have you ever been?”

“Probably passed through there once or twice, but I don’t think we ever stopped,” he replied, rubbing a hand on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in the last few days, you had noticed, and you wondered what the short whiskers would feel like under your fingers. “Why d’you want to stop there?”

You really didn’t have reason, other than, “I hear they have good honey. And wasn’t Elvis born there?”

Frankie chuckled, but dutifully took the exit onto I-45. “Well, let’s go get you some of that honey, but if you’re wanting to see the king, we need to head to Memphis.”

You made a note on the map, studying it for a moment longer. “I do want to see Memphis, but I think it would be smart, and probably more efficient to hit the south, and then kind of zig zag before heading north?” Your fingers danced in the air, mimicking the zigzag pattern to make your point.

He nodded. “That makes sense. Is there anything on that “must list” of yours for the south that we need to make sure we do?”

He remembered. You beamed at his words, almost laughing that such a small thing could make you so happy. “There are a few, actually.” Tucking loose piece of hair behind your ear, you pulled out your journal, flipping through the pages. “Since we’re heading into Mississippi, I want to check out Rowan Oak. Tishomingo State Park would be nice to visit too. Dunn’s Falls is on the list, but I feel like we might be going around our ass to scratch our elbow with that one.”

Frankie shrugged, glancing over at you. “A little extra mileage never hurt anybody. Besides,” he continued, “if it’s on your “must list,” we must go see it.”

His sincerity was palpable, and you wanted to cry. The one thing you had been dreading with finding a glorified chauffer was that they would talk you out of some of the things you wanted to do because it would be such a long and winding route to see everything on your list. Well, that and possibly being killed before your time, but mostly complaining. Frankie never once complained, following your every whim with good humor. He didn’t ask many questions after your first meeting, which you appreciated more than you could say. Like you said, the whys weren’t important now. It was just the doing that mattered.

“Thank you,” you finally said, looking back out the window so he wouldn’t see if any stray tears made their way down your cheeks.

You didn’t see his answer nod, or the way the tips of his ears turned pink as you headed toward Tupelo.  

Tupelo had seen them to honey and biscuits, as well as a stop at the birthplace of Elvis. You had convinced Frankie to take a picture touching the statue’s hand like a crying teenage girl, which he did with a roll of his eyes, but you know he sent the picture to someone in his phone named “Pope.”

You wound your way across the state to Rowan Oak, your heart fluttering at the smell of Cedar in the air as you and Frankie walked along the grounds. You got lost in the concentric garden, finding the large magnolia in the center an hour later, taking a break under the sprawling branches for a few moments.

“How old do you think this tree is?” you asked, your eyes closed as you leaned against the tree, the bark digging into your back, and the sound of birds nesting in the trees lulling you into a calmness.

“Dunno,” Frankie said from his spot beside you, shoulders touching just enough that you could feel the burn of him. “Doubt they’d let us cut it down to count the rings.”

You snorted. “No, I don’t think they would. William Faulkner would roll over in his grave if they did.” The silence stretched comfortably between you, and you closed your eyes again, the humid air making you sleepy. You may have drifted off under that old tree, because when you blinked your eyes open, Frankie was standing to the side of the trail, and there was a fresh Magnolia bloom in your lap. You smiled softly, taking a petal and pressing it into your journal before joining him, letting him lead the way out of the maze.

You headed back towards Tupelo that night, stopping just outside the city to bunk down, before driving the few hours to Tishomingo. He groaned good naturedly as you pulled on your hiking boots, and followed you onto the trail, but the beauty of the landscape stopped even his joking about the early morning dew. You found ruins and old bridges leading to long abandoned cabins, and Frankie told you of a time he spent overseas in a similar looking abandoned house with his team, and how Benny and Will went through a wall play fighting each other. Your peals of laughter probably scared the local wildlife away, but you didn’t mind, happy to just be privy to stories from Frankie’s past.

You ate lunch beside a waterfall, drinking your tea cold for a lack of hot water. You didn’t mind, to tell the truth, but the face Frankie made assured you he wouldn’t be partaking. He had been eyeing the water for a while now, sweat beading on your foreheads. You stood, slipping your boots and socks off, and he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised. “Whatcha doin?”

Grinning, you took off at a run for the edge pool of water, leaping into it. A shout of alarm went up behind you, drowned out by the rush of water going over your head. You could still hear the roar of the waterfall dumping into the basin above you, and when you popped out of the water taking a gulp of air, Frankie stood on the shore, hands on his hips staring down at you.

“What are you doing?”

You laughed kicking your feet out under you. “Living!” You swam in a circle, sighing at the cool water. “Come in!”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Chiflada!”

You pouted, “Oh, come on, Francisco! The water feels great!” You pushed your arm forward, splashing him with water, and he yelped, jumping back. “Don’t be such a chicken!”

Frankie laughed, wrenching his shirt over his head, “Oh, you asked for it!” He lunged into the water and you reeled back, screaming in delight as his long arms reached for you. You danced out of his reach, splashing him with water as you went. Frankie roared at you, pushing forward in the water to wrap his arms around you. You pushed at his chest, squealing, and laughing as his fingers danced along your ribs. His laughter rumbled through his chest and rippled across your skin, lighting up his face.

“I give, I give!” you laughed, spluttered around the hair in your face. “You’re King of the Water!”

“Damn right,” he replied, grinning at you, and you suddenly realized how close the two of you were, chest to chest, only your clothes between you. You were acutely aware of the cold water pebbling your nipples against his chest, and you felt your face heating up from the proximity of this broad man. He was looking at you, his eyes soft, and you could feel yourself internally panicking.

He could sense your trepidation, and slowly released you, his kind eyes catching yours as you backed away from him, breathing hard. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m fine. Just out of breath.” The lie came easily enough, and you hid behind and easy grin. “Told you the water felt nice though.”

Groaning, he leaned back slightly, looking up at the waterfall, “Yeah, but now we have to hike back to the Jeep in wet clothes. And it’s still hot.”

“Come on, Fly Boy, where’s your sense of adventure?” You questioned him, thanking everything that your racing heart was starting to come under control.

“Trust me, Chiflada, I’ve had enough adventures to last a lifetime.”

You mulled over his words, pulling yourself out of the water and then offering him your hand. “Well, that may be true, but you’ve never had one with someone like me.”

He took your hand, squeezing it gently as he pulled himself up next to you, close enough again for you to see the freckles across his strong nose. “No,” he agreed, speaking softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.”

You blushed, turning away quickly to gather your things, your heart rate picking up again. You’d think about this more later, when the night was still, and the clothes you were wearing were hung on a line to dry in the hot Mississippi night air. When you’d be able to feel him at your back, and for the first time regret the short time you had left.

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[lonelypond]

Pick Me Up, Ch. 4: Let's Get Lost

NicoMaki, NozoEli, 2.5K, 4/?

Summary: Eli, Nico Ni's long suffering manager meets Nozomi, Maki's long suffering manager while Nico and Maki ditch out the back door.

Let's Get Lost

Eli stepped out into the room, anxiety spiking. She was not comfortable leaving Nico alone with the unknown Maki, but Nico had insisted. And Eli had been making a great effort to not "older sister" either Nico or her actual sister Alisa as much. As much as Eli cared for both of them, wanting to keep them safe, she also had to  respect that they were also both adults, able to make their own decisions. And now Eli had to make her own decision: head home or wait for Nico.

"Hey, new friend." A drawling voice slid into Eli's awareness. The pretty, buxom, black haired woman with the purple streaks waved. "Take off those sunglasses and sit next to me." A seat was pushed out for Eli. The other woman in the room smirked.

"Nico said…" Eli looked back over her shoulder, only to be confronted by a door that had been solidly closed behind her. She shrugged and removed the sunglasses."Hi."

"Nozomi Tojo, Maki's long suffering manager." A pat on the chair from the purple tinted, "Sit."

"Umi Sonoda. It is a pleasure to meet you." Pen put down, hand extended for shaking.

Eli did. Strong grip, steady glance. Then a nod to Nozomi. "I'm Eli Ayase, Nico Ni's long suffering manager. Just a minute." Eli strode to the bar, "Vodka, please."

The bartender waited for specifics.

Eli raised the index finger on both hands, tapping them on the bar one after the other, "One bottle of your most expensive import; one shotglass. Put it on Nico Ni's tab."

"Put it on mine." Purring, Nozomi slid in next to Eli, who startled. "And give us a second shot glass."

"Of course, Ms. Tojo."

"We eat here all the time. Maki loves their sauces." Nozomi manuevered Eli to the seat. "And since she's doubling my salary, I need new…habits to spend money on."

Umi snorted, pulled out her phone, and tapped in a series of texts, getting almost immediate replies, which she chuckled over.

"What's so funny, Umi-chan?"

"Just updating Rin. And figuring out the odds." Umi smirked.

"Odds?" Eli asked, lost in this sketch version of a conversation.

"Umi misspoke." Nozomi stated slowly, with a warning tone Umi ignored.

Undaunted, Umi faced Eli, "Nozomi has a "habit" of short term "friendliness.""

"Are the two of you dating?"

Umi paled, "Never."

"Umi has two very lovely wives. Our other business partner and friend, Rin, has an awesome fiancèe. When business is slow, they all get bored with their home lives and live vicariously through me." Nozomi stuck out her tongue.

Umi continued typing, "I'm getting a car. If you and your new friend would like to join us, Honoka sent a pin for the new club."

"How thoughtful."

Umi dodged around the bartender, "It was nice to meet you, Ms. Ayase. I hope to see you again soon."

Eli smiled, "Same." She was a little confused about why Umi was leaving like a fire was about to break out. Maybe her wives were impatient. Nozomi scooting her chair closer, bumping Eli's knee, brought her back to her remaining company.

"So Nico Ni, huh? Must keep you busy." Nozomi opened the vodka.

Eli couldn't hold back a sigh. A new word needed to be invented for Nico, something that meant moving as fast as a hummingbird's wings hovering, while zig zagging like a dragonfly over an open lake. Eli poured a spillover shot. Nerves still shaky.

"My sister, Alisa, lectures me about taking some personal time but Nico always a new project or an album deadline or a rumor I have to shut down. Or she's doing something risky."

Nozomi noticed the trembling hand. She couldn't remember ever having seen eyes so bright and blue. And with every word they got more shadowed. It made her sad, an unexpected reaction.

"She's too available to her fans." Eli raised the glass.

"So you worry."

Eli downed the shot.

"And then she goes and lets some rich weirdo …"

Nozomi scooted closer to Eli, "Maki's rich but she's not a weirdo."

Eli frowned, "Who lies like that?"

"Maki's shy, socially awkward even. But she's a sweetheart. Kind. Loyal. We'd be best friends if she didn't already have a cat. If you want a weird pervert, you'll have to take me." Nozomi patted Eli's hand, "But I'm not rich."

Still not understanding half of what was said, Eli edged away, pouring and chugging another shot.

"Look, she didn't even tell me about the driver thing and it would have made me less mad about her ditching the gallery show and she knows that."

"She didn't tell you?" Eli was suddenly grateful Nico texted nearly every thought in her head.

"No. So it's personal. She hates me mucking in her personal life."

"So Maki just doesn't show up at scheduled events with no excuse or follow up call and you keep working for her."

"She's…" Nozomi whistled, "hot, fun to tease, and pays me more than I can spend."

"Fun to tease?"

Nozomi poured a shot, "Enough shop talk. Time for me to catch up. Two right?"

Eli nodded.

Nozomi poured Eli another shot, "Let's make it three. Do you always mainline vodka? Aren't you supposed to drink something this good slowly." Nozomi licked her tongue around the edge of the glass. "I like my shots salty."

Another sad sigh. Eli rubbed her forehead. Nozomi was not liking the way her heart seemed to be responding to Eli's gloom. She preferred keeping things light.

"Sorry. I'm acting out, I guess. Nico's just not thinking. And her siblings keep quizzing me about her security. They're imagining these scenarios that make me lose sleep at night. So explaining this Maki situation to them is just going to be…" Eli downed the shot.

"Let Nico do it. She's the one snuggling in a room with a pervert stalker."

Eli almost stood but Nozomi kept a grip on her arm. "You said Maki wasn't a…"

"I'm kidding, Eli-chi. Relax. Maki never even gets in the ballpark by the first date."

"Huh?"

Nozomi took another shot. Two down, one to go. "I know a place that makes excellent Bloody Mary's. We'd have to wait for breakfast though." Nozomi leaned in, sliding her hand up Eli's arm.

"Breakfast." A word Eli recognized. "I am hungry. I don't remember when I ate last."

"I know a place we can fix that. My treat." Nozomi stood up, "Unless you really want to finish that bottle."

Eli stared at the bottle, catching her own face reflected in it. She looked old. And worried. And tired. More frown lines than laugh lines. Too much Nico Ni. Then she glanced at the woman offering her a hand. Sharp green eyes, smart and friendly, a welcoming smile, a pretty floral wrap dress playing off the colors in her eyes and hair. Someone Eli might want to know better. Someone she had no responsibility for.

"Actually." Eli reached back and the hand she grasped was strong and warm. "I know a place. Do you bowl?"

###

They were at the car again, staring at it. Maki unlocked the doors with the remote.

"Is it really bulletproof?" Had Maki actually lied about anything or had it all been deflections?

"Yes. Papa insisted."

"Do you have security?"

"Sometimes." Maki sounded sad.

Nico could make that better. She stepped forward with a flair, opening Maki's door, "Tonight, Nico will be your bodyguard, pretty lady. You can just be hot and drive. Where are we headed?"

Maki's stomach had done a flip at Nico's gesture. Nervous, she decided on mischievous as a mood. "Just drive until we stop?"

"Where would you go?"

Maki stared up at the sky, light pollution limiting the number of stars. Light, noise, people…"Some place dark and quiet."

"Not home?" Nico had wanted to see inside Maki's life, know more than that her clothes were fly, her fingers twirled curls when nervous, her cologne smelled like a standing on a pier, crisp shirt blowing open in a fresh breeze.

"I'm restless."

"Nico is too."

"Yeah."

"And hungry." Nico moved around to the passenger side. "You should take Nico to your parent's place. You've been to my mom's."

"They live in Connecticut."

"No hideaway in the city?" Nico was in the car, but Maki still leaned against the open door. It was a good view. Nico would not be hurrying her.

Maki bit her lip. "They do have a penthouse near Riverside Park. Mostly an investment property. They host parties and fundraisers there."

Now that was more what Nico had in mind. She clicked the seatbelt in place and kicked her feet happily. "Let's go. Nico and the karaoke app on her phone is a party."

Maki laughed and slid into the car. "I know a place to grab some food."

"Good. It's been a long day; Nico's not cooking."

###

Eli still managed to give off an the air of polished professional, even with her suit jacket over her arm, and unbuttoning the top two buttons on her blue, thin striped oxford.

Nozomi was enjoying the enhanced view. And amused by their location.

"I did not know there was a bowling alley in the Port Authority."

"It used to not have a street entrance."

"Secret transit based bowling rendezvous? How clever. I love New York City." Nozomi threw out her arms.

"Now it's bowling, ping pong, karaoke, darts, pool, arcade games, great bar food, upscale casual dress code."

"Am I all right?" Nozomi had a sudden moment of doubt, holding an arm across her torso.

"You're perfect for anywhere."

Eli's enthusiasm hit Nozomi like a non revolving door. She stopped, shocked by the sudden compliment.

"I'm sorry I don't have my bowling shoes or ball with me, but the rentals are fine."

"You own bowling shoes?" Curiosity drew Nozomi back into the conversation.

"Yeah, Nico bought them for everybody in the league as a Christmas present. And the dorkiest bowling shirts ever. She said I inspired them."

"You have a corporate bowling league?"

"It's incredibly competitive. And I win. With high scores." Eli winked, "I have trophies."

Nozomi finished lacing her shoes. "Oh, I'd love to see them."

A grin.

"Doesn't Nico Ni get rushed by fans."

"There's a private room. Two lanes."

Eli moved eagerly to the shelves of balls, then stopped herself. "Oh, are you hungry, Nozomi? I can order us snacks. What do you like?"

You, Nozomi thought. I like you.

"Let's bowl a few frames first. I want to see what you've got."

An even bigger grin, "You won't be disappointed."

Nozomi smiled back at Eli, then stepped next to her, hip to hip, "What size do you think I need? I like the brighter colors."

Eli took an orange ball off the shelf, "A 12 pounder is a good place to start."

Nozomi let her hand linger on Eli's as the ball handoff happened. "It feels light."

"Very light?"

"Yeah."

"Here's a 14 pounder."

"Too heavy."

Eli giggled.

"What?"

"Goldilocks."

"I thought that was you."

Eli blushed, fidgeting with her ponytail. "Here." She spun a bright blue ball in Nozomi's direction. "That should be right."

"Blue's my favorite color. How'd ya know?" Nozomi pirouetted, "Which lane is ours?"

###

Pizza would arrive in an hour. The doorman had waved Maki in with a quick hello. Nico was impressed with how well the the early 20th century building's old money vibe mixed with modern architectural flair. Maki had said it was designed by some famous architect whose name Nico didn't remember. A terrace wrapped around the entire penthouse apartment, offering a gorgeous view of the city and the East River.

"Nico's impressed and Nico lives in Katherine Hepburn's townhouse."

"You really meant that."

"Yep. Nico took the tour, saw the huge vintage vanity in the master bedroom, mirrors on three sides, and thought classy, that's where Nico will do her makeup every morning from now on. Paid cash on the spot. Quintupled in value since then, but Nico's not selling. Nico invests in things long term. What's your place like?"

"A rowhouse, recently renovated, skylights in the bedrooms and bath, close to McGolrick Park. Lots of trees. That's what sold it for me. All green and the cool."

Nico gave Maki a thoughtful look, "Do you just spend all your time on the terrace when you visit here, Outdoor Girl?"

Maki glanced up, "The city's pretty, with all the lights. When I want to see stars, I stay home or go to a beach."

"So Stargazer Girl."

"Sure." Maki shrugged, getting bored.

Nico was great at reading audiences and Maki seemed to be falling into a toxic sort of anti enthusiasm so Nico bounced into cute mood, peeking in windows. "Show Nico the inside."

"Well, there's really only one showcase room, the Solarium. We'll go through the gallery."

Maki led the way through a long narrow room lined with art and books, then turned into a grand, open, airy room with tall windows on the sides and a ceiling made up of glass panels.

"The Solarium."

Nico whistled and spun, taking in the view, the openness, the light colored furniture, tall lamps, dark wood of a baby grand piano, "Wow. Nico is wowed."

"It used to be a second bedroom but Mama and Papa loved the thought of having music in here. The designer did well. When there's a party, it's always full of people mingling, listening to the piano, a quartet or something."

"It's a great space for it."

Maki nodded, moving to the piano.

"Wait. Used to be a second bedroom…so there's only one? Where do you stay if this is your parent's place? On the terrace?" Nico fell back into the couch, staring up through the ceiling panels.

"I don't."

"Oh." Nico didn't know what to say.

Maki seated herself on the piano bench and a slow jazz piece filled the room, a shadowy and melancholic mood tinting its edges.

"What's that? Nico doesn't know it."

""Let's Get Lost."" Maki's fingers deftly chose notes, a graceful hunt.

"That music sounds so sad about it." Nico tapped the piano.

Maki winced.

"Nico has three Map apps, we can get found." Nico waved her phone.

"That's not the…"

"What?"

Maki shook her head, blowing stray tendrils of scarlet out of her face, "Never mind. Any requests?"

This was jazz. Nico had to stretch her brain. Jazz wasn't anything she voluntarily spent time with. But there was that one singer, recently, the new artist winner at the Grammy's last year. Nico made a point of studying the Grammy nominees every year. Nico had liked her bright smile, bouncy, velvety sound, and how connected she was to her musical family. She and her father had recorded a Christmas single together. Nico would have loved the opportunity to do that.

"Jazz right?"

Maki shrugged again. As attractive as the pianist's shoulders were, Nico would love to move Maki's needle past aggressively not caring to some percentage of interest, if not enthusiasm.

"Nico's a big Samara Joy fan. How about "Can't Get Out Of this Mood."

Maki frowned, pulling out her own phone to look something up.

"Don't know that one. Someone to Watch Over Me?"

"Nico approves." Nico decided to strike a pose next to the piano, amused as Maki cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her, "Nico will join you."

Maki bowed her head, "As you wish."

"Nico's changing the pronouns."

Now there was interest, a sparkle in dreamfuel eyes, "Good."

A/N: Been a hectic fortnight. Thanks for reading.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Yandere! Obsessed! Sebastian x Mina (OC) || Glory Be Thy Goddess Pt2

Word Count: 2, 278 words

Scenario: As much as he loves the guy, Sebastian is just as protective and possessive over Mina when she's with Sam just as he is when she's with anyone other than him.

Rated: R/+18 for smut later in the reading. If you are under 18 please never interact with me! Adults only for content like this.

Thank you for commissioning again! I had a lot of fun and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🫶🏾✨

Enjoy! 🌟

~

He smiles at her, his eyes sparkling because he knows he shouldn't… Sam knows deep down that Sebastian was rather infatuated with this woman and yet… she had actually come here to his home. She had actually been silly enough to come here and in fashion, as pretty as the flowers she grew at her home and yet managing to be even prettier than those. She wears a sundress, one that's just so lovely and it matches her and every way possible.

She looks at him with trust, that look that he's come to very much enjoy from her.

How could someone not fall in love with her? She was practically everything a man or a woman would want in a partner. He knows he shouldn't but Sam itches to be closer, to just be able to talk to her and for once she's come to him with a conversation… to his home, and maybe he was in the wrong for not fully listening to what she was saying. Simply watching her pretty lips as they moved and the passion behind her body movements.

He nods with every word, nods as if he's actually following her words and not just standing with her right now just to be close but that's exactly what he's doing and before Sam realizes it himself he's carefully drifting closer and closer to her. Taking his time easing into her space and it's just around the moment that Sam lifts his hand as if to reach out and grab her hand when the door to his room is suddenly slammed open.

He jumps, jerking away from Mina and nearly even tumbling to the ground in his wake because the sound was so loud and there in the doorway he stood. Sebastian and he looked…less pleased than usual.

There's a narrowing in Sebastian's eyes when he takes in the scene, looking at the way Sam owlishly blinks up at him from his startled position but it's when he cast his eyes over at Mina, looking at those shocked eyes of hers that Sebastian decides to approach.

He finally steps into the room and the air has suddenly turned so cold that Mina actually manages to feel a shiver run up her spine as Sebastian steps forward, gasping when Sebastian then wraps a firm hand around her wrist and it's not tight or a grip that causes harm but there's a firmness there that told her that pulling from him was in fact not an option.

The most interesting thing is that nothing even had to be said, Sebastian turning his gaze to look over her, taking in just how pretty and cute she looked before he slowly turns his gaze to his friend who stood rigidly… almost as if he knew he had done something wrong. Sam tries to play it off the second Sebastian looks him in his eyes; laughing awkwardly and moving a hand to scratch at the back of his throat.

“S-Sebastian! What a surprise!” Sam starts off, an easygoing grin coloring his lips and he's trying to apologize without actually apologizing. Sebastian has been friends long enough with Sam to know that the man most likely didn't know just how dangerous talking to Mina could be, especially when she disappeared from Sebastian's side without a single word to handle such tasks. Though the look Sebastian gives him is like looking a wild panther in the eyes and Sam can't even get a word out.

“We were just hanging out! Totally hanging out.. right Mina?” Sam asks and his eyes sparkle as he looks over to her with a hopeful gaze and Mina of course quickly nods because while she isn't too sure exactly what's going on she can pick up on the fact that something seemed wrong. Sam on the other hand is quite aware even if he may not immediately seem like it and Sebastian doesn't even want to waste his time here any longer. Honestly if he did he wasn't sure what he'd end up doing to that beloved blond.

The exchange between the two is short and it's on Sebastian's part as he walks over and as carefully as he can muster he takes Mina's hand.

His eyes linger on Sam, bold and hard because there's so many things he could say but not here and not now when his main priority right now was getting his beautiful woman back home, where she belongs.

He'd never hurt her, would never dream to but just the thoughts of what could of happened here if he didn't show up is enough to make Sebastian look Mina in the eyes. His gaze is so loving, as if hurting her wasn't even a possibility in his head but behind him Sam can be seen clearly shaken. Even though little had been said, whatever energy Sebastian had came in with was enough to make the once pleasantly warm room freezing cold.

“I'm sure you were.” Sebastian eventually huffs out lightly. “I was missing Mina and of course when I didn't see her at home I came looking for her.” Sebastian says in a light tone as he lightly smiles at the blond haired man and just something is off with it. Maybe it was the close eyed smiles or the slight tilt of the head or maybe it was the way Sebastian's jaw seemed to tighten that made Sam shift on his feet and turn his gaze down to his shoes.

“No need to panic.” Sebastian hums carefully.

“I'm just glad to see she was somewhere safe and with a close friend. See you later?” He finishes and it's quite literally the last thing to leave his lips before he's urging Mina to follow.

Sam is stunned by the ordeal.

“Hold on Sebastian! W-What?” Mina starts to say though she does follow Sebastian, holding his warm hand and stepping where he steps while he leads the way back to the door. Her eyes turning to Sam once more.

He's never seen that look in Sebastian's eyes but when he finally manages to gather himself, especially when Mina looks back at him so confused.

“It's fine Mina really! Let's all chat later!” He encourages; a cheeky smile on his lips as his hands move up to wave frantically at her as the two make their departure.

It's… a bit weird.

Sam almost seemed scared, fearful after Sebastian had come into the room and it's not like Mina hadn't talked to Sam before so was she missing something? What exactly was the issue again?

Mina asks about it the whole walk home and the way Sebastian seems to grunt or huff in response to her questions and words made her pout.

It's not until they actually get home that she gets an answer. The two stepped in, Sebastian letting Mina in first and as she obediently steps in he follows her and locks the door back.

He is quick about it. Closing in on her like some sort of wolf biting into a prey, and just like a cute little rabbit, Mina squeaks.

She's found herself in a situation where Sebastian has her back pinned to the nearest wall, one of his legs between her own and Mina quickly finds herself blushing under the attention because she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy a bit of this attention from the man. Her partner was so incredibly handsome even though she was starting to realize that he was genuinely annoyed with something.

She doesn't get much time to think about it, not when Sebastian flips her around and hitches up that pretty dress she has on, exposing her cute panties to no one else but him. It's harder to stop himself from pressing heatedly against her, gripping her hips and pulling them back into him and his crotch and Mina face blows up in a blush. It's insane how quick Sebastian can get her like this; excited and eager and already playfully wiggling those hips of hers against him. She can already feel it; his hard cock pressing so hard against the front of his jeans that the possibility of his button popping off seems to grow and grow.

He can't stop himself now, though Sebastian knew that from the moment he learned of Mina's whereabouts that nothing would stop him from teaching her a lesson, even the gods above.

It's like whiplash, the way she goes from having a calm and peaceful conversation to being pinned so deliciously against the wall by her lover. It would be impossible for her to not wiggle her hips back against him and bite her lip when Sebastian growls lowly in reaction.

It's… hot, so hot.

Sebastian is usually more patient, better at being able to control himself when it came to these things and her but this time he feels pushed over the edge. As if seeing his future wife with one of his best friends was enough to genuinely trigger something in him. It's like a demon has been summoned and made to possess and lead his body, his breath ragged when he takes a moment to pull down his zipper and fish out his throbbing hard cock before slipping it between her thighs and the friction of his naked cock sliding against her panties which against her better judgment; were already growing rather wet.

It feels good, so fucking good… the way the slide turned into a rut and then another and another before the two of them found themselves in a hot and lustful mess, pants falling from Mina’s lips as Sebastian bites down hard on his bottom lip while his hands tighten on her and his face explodes in a bright blush. He can't resist pulling her panties aside and looking at the way his cock slides against her pussy lips and shuddering heavily as her natural fluids start to leak all over his length.

It feels like heaven, the friction, the grinding and soon Mina is nothing but a throbbing and soaking wet mess for him. She shakes and rolls her hips and then one singular thrust seems to help him slide his cock deep into her throbbing cunt and Mina lets out a loud, wanton moan, arching her back and then reaching back shakily… gripping his hip, lightly digging her nails into his skin and urging him even closer now that his pants have slipping down to give him more room.

He stays still; savoring the feeling of her cunt squeezing and twitching around as if it was a treat that he could taste it on his taste buds.

It's so warm, so incredibly hot and soaking wet inside of her and it's a feeling that Sebastian always loves… always craves.

The first thrust is a slow pull out and a push back in that seems to reach so deep in her love tunnel that Mina groans, cheeks all ready and eyes rolling back. She can't even help eagerly getting on her tiptoes, ready to take so much more.

“Good girl~ you know you are mine right?” He coos on her ear before growling lowly while moving one of those hands to carefully but snugly wrap around her throat and the way Mina tightens around his cock almost squeezes the cum out of him right then and there but… just a little longer.

He just needed to fuck her just a bit longer, a little rougher before he was truly satisfied.

“Right?” He says again, grinning almost wickedly as he fucks her so passionately that the sound of slapping sticks out clearly thanks to the sweat and cum that coated her thighs.

“Y-Yes! Yes I'm yours, I'm yours! Sebastian! You know I'm yours!” She cries out and so many times now has Sebastian gotten her like this. To cry and submit and scream how much she belongs to him, how she'd only let him fuck her like this and even cum in her because honestly with how desperate she always was for him there was nothing better than knowing he loved her so much that he'd practically have his way with her and fuck her until she was left shaking against him.

It's a mess, the fluids that are dripping from her each time he sinks deep and has his balls slap against her cunt and she's so loud as she cries for more, begging him not to stop… not to pull out and by that final thrust, he's more than happy to oblige.

He grips her tight, leaning down and biting her shoulder hard and listening to her broken sobs when he cums. Eyes squeezed shut as his cock twitches hard once, twice, before squirting and coating her pink, warm and fleshy insides with hot seed. She moans loudly, reaching back and holding herself open, rolling her hips back against him while Sebastian rolls his head back in earth shattering pleasure.

The panting they let out seem to fill the air as they try cooling off from the high but not without Mina yelping when Sebastian gives her as a hard smack and then one last rough thrust before naughtily grinding and Mina whines at the feeling, that and when Sebastian smacks her ass before gripping it just to spread them and look at the white mess dribbling out of her and rolling down the curve of his cock.

“Good girl, you're mine forever.” he says with a breathless chuckle as she continues to shake just a bit more while still beautifully wrapped around his cock.

She was his and he refused to ever imagine letting her go.

~

[marvelmaniac715]

It’s another Kyle and Andy fic with a brief touch of Chucky and Glenda! I’ve recently discovered that I love exploring that sibling bond between Andy and Kyle, so to tide myself over until Season 3 which will (hopefully) contain more canon interactions between the two, I’ve decided to write another fanfiction. It’s set in that hideout from Season Two because that’s the only place I can think of where believable offscreen interactions could take place.

————————————————————-

Chucky, in a true example of his twisted sense of humour, had insisted upon himself, Glenda and Kyle having what he referred to as a ‘family dinner’. There wasn’t much food available, but under threat of being subjected to lengthy descriptions of Andy’s torture, Kyle had put together a reasonably decent meal for three.

Poor Glenda had tried valiantly to get some kind of conversation going ever since the dinner started. But everything they said was met with dismissive grunts and one word answers, occasionally interspersed with an uninterested ‘that’s nice’. But when Glenda mentioned that they wanted to become a model, Chucky abruptly looked up from his plate and said:

“No child of mine is modelling for Playboy.”

Glenda looked startled at this and immediately responded:

“I wasn’t thinking Playboy specifically, there’s a lot of adverts and magazines that need models. I’m hoping to model for campaigns that raise awareness for topics like the environment-‘

“You’re not doing magazines, no way. To be frank with you, a magazine is what I used in order to conceive you and your twin the second time around, and I don’t feel like associating my kid with the thing that brought them into existence in the first place.”

Glenda cringed at this, with their prospective future occupation now twisted into something disgusting. They looked to Kyle for support, who offered them a reassuring (if heavily awkward) shoulder pat. Silence descended upon the table, broken by the soft scraping of cutlery against semi-broken plates. Seeing that things were now awkward, Chucky cleared his throat and said:

“Since modelling is a no-go, perhaps you should consider other options? Just to throw it out there, it would be nice to have somebody join the family business…”

Glenda snorted and replied:

“And what would that be?”

Chucky simply smirked and responded:

“Waste management.”

Glenda looked confused for a moment, then the realisation of what that term meant clicked in their brain and they hurriedly shook their head, a horrified expression on their face as they quickly explained:

“No, Glen’s a pacifist, they’d hate it if-‘

Chucky snorted and said:

“Oh, I gave up on that wimp years ago, but I’m holding out hope for you. You showed real promise when you were six.”

Glenda’s face paled as they rose from the table, politely excusing themself as they stormed away from the table, frustrated tears forming in their eyes. As they left, Chucky called after them:

“Fine, have your little tantrum! Come talk to me when you’re ready to have a mature adult conversation!”

Kyle should have let it go, but instead, she scoffed and told Chucky:

“Do you set out to be an awful parent or do you genuinely not know how bad you are at this?”

Chucky seemed genuinely confused by the question as he simply shrugged before sneering:

“You don’t even have a kid, how would you know how to be a parent?”

Kyle had had enough of Chucky’s company by now, so she stood up from the table and left, not even making a polite excuse like Glenda had done. But as she went to bed that night, she thought about what Chucky had said, about her not having a kid, and a dozen memories suddenly came back to her…

————————————————————-

Twelve year old Andy sighed in frustration as he stared down at his algebra work. Kyle had left him to it for about half an hour now, but it was just so hard. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t figure out the answers. He’d faced many challenges in his life, but out of all of the horrible things he’d faced, this was the hardest. Numbers didn’t belong in math, they just didn’t. He knew that Kyle just wanted him to study and get his GED so he could go to college, but it didn’t mean that he had to be happy about it.

As if sensing Andy’s distress, Kyle suddenly entered the room carrying a tray that contained two cups of store bought lemonade. When she noticed Andy slumped over at his desk, she cleared his throat before tapping him on the shoulder. She’d realised over the years that if she didn’t announce her presence when she entered a room, Andy would freak out, because he couldn’t handle being surprised like that after years dealing with… a certain redhead.

When Andy looked up at her, Kyle smiled and said:

“Hey, I brought lemonade. Would you like some? Might be a good idea to take a break.”

Andy smiled gratefully and reached out his hands to grab the lemonade, but then Kyle caught sight of his empty worksheet and let out a sigh of her own, placing the lemonade on a different table. Andy frowned at this and tried to stand up, only for Kyle to gently push him back down and shake her head.

“Algebra really isn’t your strong suit, huh? Need some help?”

Andy nodded as Kyle knelt down beside him, groaning about the strain on her knees as she did so. Once she could properly look at the work, Kyle gave Andy a sympathetic smile and whispered in an almost embarrassed tone:

“I’m not too good at it either, but it’s an important skill to learn, so how about we do it together?”

With an agreement made, both Kyle and Andy settled into a comfortable rhythm of bemoaning the pointlessness of the work in front of them, occasionally interrupting themselves with sips of lemonade from the drinks that Kyle had brought over after finally giving in due to thirst.

————————————————————-

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Andy, happy birthday to you!”

Kyle’s singing was off key yet sincere as she held up a chocolate cupcake with a faintly flickering ‘13’ candle resting on top of it. She had a shiny green party hat on her head, held in place by a mildly uncomfortable white string under her chin and around her ears. Andy wore a similar hat, except his was gold because he was the birthday boy.

Not many things made Andy smile these days (Kyle wished she could think of it as teen angst, but she knew and understood the reasoning behind his melancholy) but the sight of a birthday cake after years of not celebrating due to fear of being discovered made the boy’s lips pull themselves upwards into a slight smile.

Kyle placed the cupcake in Andy’s hands and instructed him to make a wish, but all Andy said in response (frowning again) was:

“I don’t have anything to wish for.”

The party atmosphere immediately vanished as Kyle wrapped her arms around Andy’s bony shoulders (despite her best efforts to find food, there wasn’t much available and Andy refused to eat saying that he needed to be ready in case… a certain someone came back). It didn’t seem right for Andy to be so upset on his birthday, he’d seemed so excited for it. So Kyle tried to lift his spirits as she suggested an idea for a wish.

“You could wish for world peace. Or, perhaps you could wish for a certain three foot monster to leave us alone? I don’t want to bring the mood down, but I can tell you’re thinking about him, I can understand that this day is particularly hard for you.”

Tears welled up in Andy’s eyes as he nodded, bottom lip slightly quivering.

“It’s all my fault, Kyle! I just wanted a birthday present but I made Aunt Maggie die! Not to mention the Simpson family, and so many other people! I should have just been happy with what my mom initially got me.”

Ah, so he was feeling guilty again. Kyle had tried many times to reassure Andy that none of this was his fault, but he didn’t seem to believe that was true. Of course a birthday would set his anxiety off again, Kyle never felt great on the anniversary of the day that Chucky first entered her life, but she was able to balance that guilt with joy because that was also around the time that she first met Andy. 

Kyle couldn’t promise Andy that Chucky wouldn’t return, but she could offer him some form of comfort.

“Andy, you beat him. That monster tried to kill us- tried to kill you a dozen times. But you outsmarted him every time. You watched him burn in your own fireplace when you were six, you are the bravest person I know. Besides, no offence, there’s no way that Chucky would want to possess a teenager, all of those hormones would freak him out! Also, you aren’t responsible for anything he did, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay kid?”

Andy no longer looked like he was about to cry, but he wasn’t fully happy yet, so Kyle decided to reveal the big birthday surprise.

“And if that doesn’t cheer you up, I arranged a phone call with your mom for this evening before bed.”

The thirteen year old cracked a smile at this, and Kyle sighed in relief.

————————————————————-

Andy hadn’t called her in three weeks. Usually that would be fine, he was a smart, tough guy, he could take care of himself (could he?) but the last time Kyle had received a phone call from him, he’d seemed… on edge, like there was something he wasn’t telling her. That made Kyle feel uneasy, so she decided to break the silence and reach out. Surprisingly, Andy picked up after the very first ring, as if he was eager for someone to talk to.

“Kyle, hi! How’ve you been, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“You know me, I’m fine, but how are you? What’s your apartment like? Oh, and didn’t you go on a date last week? How did that go?”

“The apartment’s fine, and the date… not as great. She googled me. They all do.”

“Oh, Andy, I’m so sorry. Was she put off by all those untrue articles that called you insane?”

“Yep.”

“You should sue for defamation, it could win you a massive mansion like we always dreamed about when you were a kid. Remember all those times we’d talk about having a dozen swimming pools? I distinctly remember that you wanted a stable with a black horse called-‘

“Midnight, yeah, I remember that.”

It was nice to catch up with Andy, but Kyle still had concerns about his well-being.

“Andy, are you doing alright? You didn’t call for three weeks, are you taking care of yourself?”

“Kyle, I’m fine.”

“Do you still have a job? Is your position at the restaurant still going well?”

“I may have… gotten fired for mental instability. I had a panic attack because I saw a toddler with red hair. From behind they looked just like… I’m sure you can figure it out.”

This filled Kyle with panic, how was he affording to live?!

“Are you still eating enough? As a matter of fact, are you eating at all? I know you can sometimes neglect that when you’re anxious but it’s a human need, you can’t be skipping meals-‘

“Kyle, I ate a lasagna like twenty minutes ago. I’m having sushi tonight if you wanna come over for dinner. Once again, I am absolutely fine.”

Kyle let out a relieved sigh, quickly checking her calendar to make sure she was free for tonight. She owned her own business, she didn’t need to meet any deadlines and she set her own hours. Besides, she didn’t have many friends, so she was absolutely free for tonight.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay, sure, I’ll come over. Is 5 o’clock okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at five.”

“Before I go, are you getting at least ten minutes of sunlight a day? I know it’s silly, but you have to take in some vitamin c.”

Andy jokingly sighed on the other end of the line, and Kyle could imagine that he was rolling his eyes. He went to respond, probably another ‘I’m fine’, but before he could, he was cut off by the sound of a man screaming in the background. That made Kyle jump, and she hurriedly asked:

“What was that?”

Andy took a moment to respond, but when he did his voice was slightly nervous and shaky.

“Oh, I’m watching a horror movie on the tv. Yeah… that’s it.”

Kyle wasn’t convinced, but she was coming to his house for dinner later, so she would be able to confront him in person.

“Okay, if you say so… I think we should have a talk about what you’ll do for employment when I get there. I know you have trauma, we both do, but I want to make sure that you’re financially stable. Perhaps I could set you up with a role at my company? We’re in a wonderful modern age where people can work from home and attend meetings over Skype, would that be better for you? You wouldn’t even have to do much, I could make you my assistant and just have you order me stuff online.”

Andy didn’t respond for a few seconds, and Kyle almost thought he’d hung up before he quietly said:

“Yeah, we can talk about it for sure. Speaking of your work, aren’t you really busy at the moment? You shouldn’t be wasting valuable time calling me, I’m sure you have lots of responsibilities as the big boss.”

“Andy, I’ll always have time for you, you know that right? Besides, who else would I get to nag?”

Andy and Kyle shared a laugh before they decided it was time to say goodbye. But before they both hung up, Andy quickly added:

“Kyle? I know I come off kinda cold, but I just wanna say that I love you.”

“I love you too, baby brother.”

“I’m not that much younger-‘

“Can’t hear you, bad connection!”

————————————————————-

Back in the present day, Kyle blinked in surprise. She’d been lost in her memories for a good two hours now, and it was well and truly time for bed. As she closed her eyes, she thought one more time about what Chucky said, which was the longest amount of time she’d ever thought about the things that asshole said. It was true, Kyle didn’t have a kid, she had an Andy, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[amplifyme]

Hiiiiiiiii, I'm back! :DDDD

Pretty sure The Possibility of Being was next; so, I read through Chapter 1, took some notes, and even got a (tiny) Sis comment~.

I was immediately drawn into the setting: Diana's turn down Below, Vincent using her own words to help, and all the unfolding details-- big or small-- that you worked in with all the character mentions and off-screen hints at relationships (Diana trying to prove herself to Joe in a nightmare, Kanin's mention, Catherine insisting Elliot recite the poem and Elliot taking a moment to do so correctly, etc.)

 "Catherine was… a completion. She was a part of me that'd been missing before the night I first found her and brought her Below. A lack I was not even aware of until she came into my life, and I began to understand how truly alone I had been before her. But Diana is…. …Diana is my reflection, Father. And where Catherine was my light, she is my mirror." That... that is so true. Wow. I will always think of the two relationships in this way, now.

An interesting parallel: Nan and you play with the concept of Vincent awakening darkness or awareness in Diana, and that he has to help “train” her to survive it. The difference is Nan’s V was less sure of his ability to help her whereas your V is more proactive. Further, your V and D feel like adults dealing with their own, independent issues while still supporting each other while Nan’s V and D have intertwined their issues almost irrevocably. Fascinating dynamic for both. 

Elliot reached out and grasped his arm. Strange, that this man could do what he could not. He felt genuine affection from the man before him. Elliot’s back! And he carefully quoted Cathy’s poem-- perfect characterization, I might add-- while getting the cadence wrong. 

Cathy insisting Vincent be the light now… Cathy, that’s so sweet. 

"Okay, enough of that, buster.” EYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, I know that reference! 

The dreaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam I loved it. So, so BATB. (As a side note, my heart did weird flips when Diana called Jacob “peanut.”) 

Diana hitting upon a revelation almost in relief while Vincent feels like dying up against the wall: heavy themes and incidental comedy, my jam. 

A quiet voice in his head took that moment to remind him she'd dropped her arm, that escape would be easier now. But a second, more insistent voice wanted to stay, to hear her out, because what she was saying wasn't so awful, after all. I’m eating this up with a SPOON, I tell you.  

She seemed content to leave things as they'd left them and he wasn't especially anxious to bring it up, either. Another slight difference: your Diana is content to shuffle on, Nan’s Diana pushes things through. I like both-- a lot. 

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked. He watched as she succumbed to a huge yawn, her jaw popping with the effort. "Nope. But you can scooch over," she said. "I'm sorry?" "Scoot over a little bit, gimme some room…" I love how… normal, for lack of a better word, Diana is about this. Scoot over I need comfort, doesn’t agonize, gets what she needs. (Can you tell I’m sort of obsessed with this story?) You described it best: “so casually.” Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerfect. 

I did manage to tell Sis about I knew he was nothing more than a puritan in socialist's clothing (which is an amazing line-- tickled me to death), and she said she’d love/be absolutely “down” for “fights” between Diana and Father over mundane issues: “Just for fun, slice-of-life fluff.” 

I adore V and D’s conversation back in her apartment-- and this was a great touch: She trailed off and glared at him helplessly. "What's the word I'm looking for here, Vincent? Help me out." "Vigilant?" he suggested. Diana snapped her fingers. "Yes! Vigilant….”"Oh, it registers, Diana; and you, more than anyone else, is able to get through. But I am vigilant because I must be. It's the only way I can protect those I… those I love." They exchanged cautious looks…. Finally, she lifted a hand and rested it on the pale, bare skin below the hollow of her throat…."Well," she said, after what felt like an eternity, "We got that going for us, anyway. It's a start…” Superb.

I really (and I'm not just saying really to say really), really adore your voice for Vincent, for Diana, for Elliot, for Father, for Jacob, for everyone. Enjoying myself to the fullest, and I'm only a chapter in.

Will be back with more thoughts in the future. :DDDD

I cannot tell you how thrilled I am that you've begun TPOB. And you're liking it! That's the best part. 😊 I'm just basking in the rarity of this kind of feedback, because writing fic for such a small subset of the BATB fandom often feels like screaming into the void. So, thanks for hearing me.

A bit more below the cut...

Diana is my reflection, Father. And where Catherine was my light, she is my mirror." That... that is so true. Wow. I will always think of the two relationships in this way, now.

That's high praise, thank you.

Further, your V and D feel like adults dealing with their own, independent issues while still supporting each other while Nan’s V and D have intertwined their issues almost irrevocably. Fascinating dynamic for both. 

This is something I hadn't considered before, but I think you nailed the differences between my V & D and how Nan portrayed them. Nan saw them more, I think, as two halves of a whole, requiring the other person to fill in those missing pieces in themselves, whereas I've always seen them as very much their own entities, complete, who are drawn to each other because of who each of them are *already*. Does that make sense?

Elliot’s back! And he carefully quoted Cathy’s poem-- perfect characterization, I might add-- while getting the cadence wrong. 

I have to admit, Vincent's gentle rebuke, "Although... your cadence could use some work," is one of my favorite lines of anything I've written. I don't know why, it just is.

I did manage to tell Sis about I knew he was nothing more than a puritan in socialist's clothing (which is an amazing line-- tickled me to death), and she said she’d love/be absolutely “down” for “fights” between Diana and Father over mundane issues: “Just for fun, slice-of-life fluff.” 

Okay, another one of my fav lines! I'm glad you both liked it. I can't say that D & F "fight" in more scenes to come, but they definitely knock heads, and bounce off each other in a way I found a blast to write. The same with the Elliot and Diana scenes to come. Theirs is another dynamic I loved exploring.

I'm so happy you're liking it so far! You've given me a boost I didn't even know I needed. Looking forward to more discussion once you've dug in deeper. 🥰

[libraryofcirclaria]

06 November 1281

Library of Circlaria

Third Level Society: First Version

Story Six: Meona Bell

After spending a night in one of the University jail cells, I am finally free. Regardless, I need to explain what happened.

It all started with my agenda to obtain information on whether or not Headmaster Lach was aware that Mary Kormann was Ceri Mains in disguise to begin with. No better way to do that than to have him awash with a little white wine, which I hear he is quite fond of. The only crux there was how to get in conversation with him in the first place.

In the meantime came an emerging priority: how to divide the Freedom Rangers so as to bring an end to the existence of the White Baroness, who, despite being a rare 4th generation daemon, has managed to expand her influence in a dangerous way. I tried to strike up a conversation with Derek Comb, but he really has no interest in "the wider dynamics." He only cares about his immediate surroundings.

So I gave up on Derek and thought of a plan myself: to have my avatar, Captain Bornan, disguise himself as a defector from the Galacian Chapters of the Freedom Rangers, of which there are many, and go to the Crescan Chapter leaders to convince them that the Galacian Chapters are conspiring to utilize the influence of the White Baroness to tip the balance of dynamics and bring not only the rest of the Freedom Rangers but the remainder of the Arturian Universe under their mighty grip.

Dishonest? Yes. Unethical? Yes. But then again, so is the influence of the White Baroness to begin with.

I will admit, I did feel a bit guilty. But when I brought the idea up to Sarah Marks, not only did she agree with my approach, she also volunteered to assist me. Her avatar now commands a significant company of hellspirits in Antemaersa on the Original World of Arturia and therefore has significant tools of disguise and form-fitting for my avatar. So we set to work.

While we were doing this, I realized something that could be done with Headmaster Lach: to get assistance from Daniel Carter. So I had to pull out of this White Baroness quest yet again. But Sarah was understanding; and we agreed to collectively cast a daemon version of Captain Bornan disguised as a Galacia runaway, implanting behavioral algorithms in this daemon and let our agenda run its course in my absence. Yes, that is dangerous. But Sarah agreed to keep an eye on things.

In the meantime, I met with Carter in the secrecy of my Guestroom, where I succeeded in leaving an impression on him that I was, though in my mind not genuinely, undecided on the matter of darkfire.

"I understand, Meona," Carter said. "It's a messy business, darkfire as a whole. I am confident, though, that this catch will make my official retirement. With that being said, Ivella has been stressing the importance of sanctuary treatment versus traditional treatment purge treatment for the ones with the Syndrome."

"Dyla has been referring to that as 'institutionalized exorcism,'" I said. And it was true. Dyla mentioned that in her shouting match with Kara Martins last month.

In fact, on the inside, I realize Dyla is right about that. Basically, it's been common practice here that when anyone at any age, be it adult or child, involuntarily conjures darkfire, they are taken to a psychiatrist and diagnosed with the Syndrome, and are then sent to an institution where they are exposed to harsh conditions so as to make the body sick and weary enough to suppress the darkfire conjurations. Many patients in these wards have died, warranting numerous debates over ethics.

The mainstream media seems to support Reonard Chaney in this, though I know that a growing number of people are sympathizing with Ceri Mains. Furthermore, Ivella's healthier option of creating a "safe space" for those with the Syndrome to come in and periodically conjure to get it out of their system is something I hope will catch on.

I mentioned aloud the approach that Ivella Ogden was making. And to my surprise, Carter voiced agreement. "Indeed I have come to find the traditional treatment inhumane, given that most of those with the Syndrome really are innocent and mean no harm," Carter said. "It's very interesting what Ivella is doing. And I see how her methods could work better. In fact, I may consider joining her in my retirement to see how her treatments pan out.

"However," Carter continued. "That leaves no excuse for what the cartels have done, including Finzi's allies both inside and outside of the Perimeter. Although I still believe that Ceri Mains is the only one who has managed to escape, there is no doubt in my mind that cartel leaders have passed communication between each other over the Perimeter wall. I've tracked numerous darkfire figures, big and small, over my tenure. And lately, I sense, though this is merely speculation, a growing network of collaboration for something big to come; Ceri Mains was but the beginning.

"Not to say, Meona, that Ceri Mains is a dangerous cartel leader that should be shown no mercy. I do believe, and very firmly, that justice is due to those who partook in this dark trade in a violent fashion. But I know now that our fear of Ceri Mains, the intensity of it anyway, was quite unfounded. She did simply want an education, no more than that.

"However, she did bypass legal boundaries, which makes me consider her to be, not dangerous or malicious, but rather reckless. Therefore, I hope that the Arbitrator and the Courts pass a decision to not punish her, but to contain her and observe her more closely than others. She has good intent, but we must protect the public." "Definitely a good compromise," I said, though what I did not tell Carter was that I believed that Ceri should walk free albeit seeking sanctuary treatment from Ivella.

"I'm sure this whole ordeal was quite the stressful situation for Headmaster Lach though. Perhaps we should call a private dinner, you, me, and him, for celebration to lift his spirits a little."

"Well," Carter said. "First of all, I had a rather large dinner already. Second of all, I doubt that the Headmaster would accept. He afterall is not only busy, but has avoided the subject of Ceri Mains every time I brought it up to him."

"It doesn't have to be a dinner then," I said. "Maybe a small drink and just talk about stuff not having to do with the University at all."

To that Carter agreed. So I typed up a ticker message to send to his Office. Both Carter and I signed the message. And to our surprise, Lach responded by inviting us over.

There was a small parlor-store in the lobby of the Guesthouse where I was able to buy a bottle of some of the richest white wine in the Western part of Circlaria, grown by grapes in the Chemko-Zyrtin valley region. I just knew that the Headmaster would gravitate toward that.

And when we finally met with them, we opened a bottle and shared a drink, starting with light matters completely unrelated to Ceri Mains and the University. During that time, I made sure to drink slowly, and no more than two drinks. I think Carter had two or three drinks. And the Headmaster had absolutely no cap on his amount of drinks.

Very soon, he got a bit loose-lipped and segued to what I was hoping to gain from all this. "Carter," the Headmaster said. "I know you some. But Meona, I know nothing about you yet. Why don't you tell me a little bit about your background..."

I started by telling about my personal past, my time as a Cabotton student, my time in Canticula, even my marriage to Sari Frame. Then my monologue flowed into my perspective concerning the turn of events surrounding Ceri Mains. Lach's apparent conversational boundaries on that were quite relaxed, and, to my delight, Carter filled in with telling his parts to the Ceri Mains ordeal.

At the end of it all, I could see Headmaster Lach's face quite red, and his speech quite slurred. So I ventured the most important question of all: "When were you first aware that Mary Kormann was Ceri Mains in disguise?"

"Oh that," Headmaster Lach said. "Ceri herself wrote me after the Internal Department denied her leave request. She asked me advice...and I told her...'just read some encyclopedias'...I was a little drunk when I said that...so...you know...I didn't want that coming up when I heard she was on campus."

"So you knew she was on Campus way before Campus Watch was aware?"

"Don't tell anyone...I was hoping this would blow over...and it did, for me anyways...as far as the public is concerned...it was a small detail I was unawares of...and that's what I hope it will stay as..."

So I did not exactly belt that out to the public, per say, with due respect to the University Headmaster. I did not go to the Flagstaff with something to gossip about. But I did manage to go through the hoops of the Perimeter boundaries and have a private telephone conversation with Ceri Mains. I asked her if it was true what the Headmaster said. And she said "yes," but advised me not to be too public about because of the dangers with the notorious Peter Crane and Kara Martins.

Needless to say, I kept this private. But I did have private ticker conversations with Dyla and Julian, to whom I told everything that happened that day.

Julian during that time filled me in on the outcome of the quest I planted to undo the Freedom Rangers and the White Baroness. Apparently, the Crescan and Galacian Chapters did end up fighting each other. However, things did get out of control, despite Sarah's efforts. And she had to get the Prefects involved. Furthermore, this upset Derek Comb toward me, so I resolved to make amends with him over a cup of coffee at the University Library on the next day.

Regardless, though, the White Baroness is no more.

What I did not know, however, was that with the treachery afoot, the private conversations I had with everyone were not as private as I had previously thought.

On the next day, in other words yesterday November 5, I received a ticker message from Dyla stating that Peter Crane had invited her into his dormitory in Norris House for what appeared to be a move of consolation but turned out to be a trick to force her into his personal bedroom for some unknown but dark deed. Honestly, at this point, I should have called the Campus Watch, but instead, I came into Peter's dormitory, whose door happened to be ajar, and confronted him with my talisman drawn.

"Release her!" I shouted.

But instead, Peter drew out his talisman and sent a spellfire discharge toward me. I dodged that and fired back. But just then, Peter threw another spell that sent me flying back out into the hallway. I ran to the nearest phone, at that time, and called Campus Watch. I went downstairs to the entrance to meet with them...and they arrested me, instead.

Apparently, between the time of the confrontation and the time I met them, Peter, himself, called the Campus Watch and said that I attacked unprovoked.

I will say that for an academic institution so committed toward progress and the rights of students, the jail cells in the basement of the Administration Building are quite brutal. One tiny open-aired window in a thick concrete wall was all I had to look outside. However, the doors and the walls between cells were open-aired toward each other and the aisle between the rows of cells, so that there was absolutely no privacy whatsoever. I was expected to spend up to a week here after which I would be handed over to Gentry County.

However, Daniel Carter paid me a visit, where I told him everything about the ticker message I received from Dyla. He and Dyla pulled some ropes with University Affairs, who then wiped clean any charges I had from this and released me just before noon.

Apparently, Carter had gone to University Affairs to pull ticker transcripts surrounding the message I had gotten from Dyla. Dyla was there, and said that she was not the one who sent the message, for she was in the town of Vale at that time. She showed a ticker message she had gotten from a supposed friend there who asked to meet with her. When she showed up to the residence in Vale, however, the house in question was empty.

University Affairs looked more closely at that ticker message and found that it came from one of the communication rooms in Norris House, where resided Peter Crane. Shortly after my release, University Affairs summoned Peter Crane to explain everything.

When Peter Crane showed up, he presented paperwork showing that he had an emotional breakdown from all the stress this year and that he had seen a mental health professional. He admitted that late on November 4, he had received a message from Kara Martins that she was told by Headmaster Lach, who I realize was still very intoxicated at the time, of the conversation having occurred between himself, Carter, and I. Peter then had one of his cronies, some person he would not identify but claimed who apparently had a hobby of collecting a variety of gadgets, to deploy a wiretapping machine he had in his possession and actually manage to spy on all the messages between myself, Dyla, and Julian later that night.

The said spy relayed everything back to Peter. Thus, Peter knew everything from Ceri Mains to even my plan with the Freedom Rangers. Thus, he and Kara came up with a theory that I was facilitating the continuance of Ceri Mains' agenda to infiltrate the Third Level Society through the dividing-up of the Freedom Rangers by using the Galacian Chapters as a tool to hijack the entire Arturian Realm with darkfire scripts. The second part of this speculation was that I would use all of this to cast Headmaster Lach in a bad light so as not only to sow division in the Society Caucus but also to weaken base morale in the entire University student body as well as their faith in the Campus Watch.

Both Kara and Peter knew that the theory was a long stretch from being proven legitimate; so they devised a set-up by sending an anonymous message to Dyla pretending to be that friend in Vale so that she would be absent to help give weight to the impression Peter successively gave me that Dyla had been kidnapped.

And thus the rest of the events played out.

I was expecting that even with the evidence Peter had saying that this had all been the manifest of a mental health break down, that the University Affairs Office would see through it and have Peter promptly expelled and even possibly prosecuted. But alas, to my surprise, they did not. Instead, they asked to meet again tomorrow and hear from the mental health counselor, herself.

In the meantime, numerous Members of the Society Caucus, though thankfully not the majority, actually believe the ridiculous story of conspiracy involving myself, despite Peter's admittance that he had this fabricated. Their reasoning is that Peter is being systematically silenced.

Therefore, I feel that it may be near my time to leave Cabotton and return to my normal life with Ceri. The only thing I am waiting on is the outcome of the meeting between Ceri Mains' representatives and the Arbitrator, which is scheduled to begin at 2:00 PM tomorrow.

<- 02 November 1281 <- || -> 07 November 1281 ->

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Best and Worst - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I'm slightly irked by the hundred dollars but I also know he's been wanting to pay for things since the first time we ordered pizza.

I also know he has it.

He's not going to drop it, either and if I try to give some of it back it'll turn into a thing.

I hate 'things'.

Fine. We will eat really well this week.

I toss yet more laundry into the machine, between all the sheets we're going through and my work clothes, I've got a small mountain to wash.

Then it's off to the store.

I'm not used to shopping for two.

I know he loves ice cream and I get an extra carton, plus some more chocolate sauce.

I get him microwave popcorn and the already popped stuff that they have in the chip aisle.

I grab a marinated pork loin, some chicken and some hamburger along with some salad and veg, the boy needs some real food if he's going to survive off my cum for breakfast and whatever he manages to find for lunch.

At least he let me feed him this morning.

God, this morning.

I didn't expect anything, at all.

Seriously, I didn't even need anything.

I came twice yesterday and that is more than enough for me.

He, however, seemed to need it and once I knew he was fully aware that I didn't expect or need a blow job, I let him have fun.

Hell, I've been called a lot of things in my life but I'm not actually stupid.

I can't explain why seeing him go from a sweet, sleeping angel to a flustered, choking, desperate boy in less than two minutes makes me want to skip through the store like a five-year old but it's, well, it's everything.

I know he's well rested and he wakes up happy and needy and it obviously does something for him.

I have no idea what but he's in charge and it's the way he wants it.

I love it too but that's just a bonus, I've never had a problem with a regular suck, not that I've ever gotten them so regularly.

The past few weeks and the past week in particular, have been a whirlwind.

It took us weeks to dance around and decide if we were even dating and man, I almost completely fucked up the whole 'little' thing but he seems to be really coming out of his shell.

He seems happier.

I know I am.

I almost forget to grab some flowers and a bottle of wine for tonight but I remember at the last minute and get everything purchased and put away at home.

I switch the laundry, clean Marten's cage and collapse onto the couch.

One of the back cushions is askew and I fix it, then immediately think about last night.

If someone would have told me six months ago or even six days ago that I would have said those things, been so rough or enjoyed it so much, I would have laughed in their face.

I can't remember what time Finnegan left but it's been awhile, right?

He'll probably be back soon.

Do I want to be rough all the time? No.

That boy is magic and he deserves to be loved properly.

I make a promise to myself that the next time will be much different than last night was.

Maybe I can get him to ride me again, that was fantastic.

I decide to slice up the watermelon and have it ready, he may be munchy when he gets home from church.

Home.

Shit, I need to stop that.

He's made it very clear from the beginning that he's leaving and not a year from now, no, soon.

As in later this summer.

I don't want to think about it.

At first it made me brave, what did I have to lose?

I either had to grab on and hope to have some fun or let him slip through my fingers and disappear back to Michigan without anything ever happening.

But now?

So much has changed this week that I can't imagine just letting him walk away.

It needs to wait.

I can't deal with everything that's happened this week and that too.

I'll end up drunk and sad and I've done that more than my fair share.

I wonder if he'll come to dinner tonight.

I've never taken anyone to my dad's, he's never met anyone I dated at all.

He knows I'm gay but since my coming out conversation, it feels very much like don't ask, don't tell did in the army.

Don't tell me it's over, trust me, it's not. 

He was fine then or said he was at least but I was leaving the house and joining up and we didn't see each other a lot for eight years.

You grow apart, you know?

Grow up.

I have no idea whether or not any of that distance is because of that fateful convo or just the way things go.

He's a good guy and when I mentioned inviting a 'friend' to dinner he said...

"Sure."

But.. I don't know.

If Finnegan decides to go I'll have to call and make sure he knows we're dating but then what if he freaks?

It's not like I can uninvite Finnegan but actually... I'd just cancel... Fine.

My dad and I are complicated.

My mother dying made it that way.

Me being gay makes it that way.

Running off and disappearing for eight years and missing his second wedding made it that way.

But we do okay, really.

We talk some, he knows I'd do anything for him and he tells me he loves me.

Wrote me letters whenever I was deployed, too, it meant the world.

I should see him more than I do.

I need to do better.

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 69a

*Warning - Adult Content*  

"Damien."

Damien Clarke burst out of his thoughts when he heard the voice that he was certain didn't belong to Alexander Nabokov.

Someone had just called him and it wasn't the Russian man.

Damien turned his head and he nearly had a heart attack when he saw Craig standing a few feet from him and Nabokov.

"Craig?" Damien stammered, stunned and in shock.

The head nurse paid no attention to Damien, his cold blue eyes only on Nabokov, unsmiling.

"What are you doing here?" Damien stammered, confused.

"I was going to ask the same thing to the ‘friend’ who is with you," Craig said, the tone of his voice subtly hiding his coldness, his gaze remaining religiously on Nabokov.

Damien had been so disturbed by Craig's presence that he didn't notice that Nabokov had distanced himself from him and had taken a few steps towards Craig.

Fortunately for Damien, his ‘enemy/lover’ as well as his ex-boyfriend still remained at a reasonable distance from each other.

On the other hand, the tension was particularly palpable and it didn't bode well.

"I have some unfinished business to settle with Damien," the Russian man explained in a professional tone.

"Business that has to do with Nicolas's software?" Craig asked with a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Damien didn't miss the sarcasm in his ex-boyfriend's tone and he knew Nabokov hadn't missed it as well, although he had no way of confirming it, since Nabokov was backing him.

"Among other things, yes," Nabokov replied simply.

Craig frowned.

"I don't think we've properly been introduced the first time we met," Craig said, his tone of voice a mixture of courtesy and acidity.

Nabokov took two steps forward as Damien watched the scene, completely shocked.

He couldn't understand how Nabokov managed to keep his cool under such circumstances and even less how Craig managed to stay calm.

It was obviously a nightmare that was happening on in front of him because it was all too surreal.

"I don't think so either," Nabokov confirmed.

"I am..."

"The one who’s fucking Damien behind my back?" Craig said sharply, cutting Nabokov off.

Although the conversation was now taking the direction it should have taken under such circumstances, Damien still didn't like the way it was going.

The last thing he needed was to have periods of high blood pressure and witnessing a conversation between Nabokov and Craig seemed to greatly help his blood pressure to rise above normal levels.

"Fucking? No. No, not yet," Nabokov said, his voice distant.

Damien would've given anything so that the conversation between Craig and Nabokov ended immediately or better yet that it never took place.

He wanted badly to embed himself in the discussion between the two men and to end it himself before it escalated but he was unable to even make a movement or speak.

He felt like he was witnessing in slow motion a car crash and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Damien's heart was pounding hard against his chest and he had this feeling of being the victim of a hostage-taking.

He remained motionless and completely helpless at the scene that unfolded before him.

"I don't know if you're aware but I'm Damien's boyfriend and I don't appreciate your relationship with my man," Craig said, a bitter trace in his voice. "So, I want you to stop seeing him immediately."

Craig's words had greatly dumbfounded Damien who didn't know what to think of them.

He certainly hadn't expected his ex-boyfriend to act like they hadn't broken up a few hours ago.

Either Craig had a short memory or had changed his mind about their recent breakup.

This last option was very possible and Damien should have been in cloud nine since it was exactly the miracle, he was hoping the minute Craig left his apartment a few hours ago.

Still, no joy at the great possibility that Craig intended to give him another chance manifested inside him.

He was too preoccupied with what was going on in front of him.

"I've only been living in the States for the last ten years, so if I'm mistaken please tell me but I thought the legal age is twenty-one and what I am at almost certain is that Damien is well above that age. So why are you making decisions for him?"

Damien Clark watched as Alexander Nabokov walked towards Craig as his heart pounded fiercely and continued to beat even when the Russian stopped walking a few centimetres from Craig.

Damien sensed, no, knew that things would soon take a turn for the worse by the intensely tense atmosphere in the air.

"It's not only my decision but also his. Damien doesn't want you in his life and neither do I. We’re a couple and there’s nothing you can do that will change that. He's mine and I won't let you have him," Craig asserted harshly, the expression on his face growing more and more austere and less civil.

‘Does he forgive me?’

This question burned Damien's lips but with great difficulty he kept it to himself.

Now was not the time to talk about this.

It was time for him to find a way to stop Craig and Nabokov from continuing their discussion disguised as hostile conversation before it took a drastic form.

"That's fair enough but I want to hear it from Damien himself, if you don't mind. I believe that what I am asking is not too demanding, is it?"

Nabokov didn't give Craig time to grant him this favor, as he turned to Damien and walked over to him.

Damien leaned his back on the door of his apartment, feeling like his legs would soon give up on him.

Damien's body language conveyed a kind of self-preservation with his two hands holding each of his elbows, as if he wanted to protect himself by creating a barrier with his arms.

Damien now had Nabokov's full attention on him and he knew it was the same for Craig without having to look at him.

He stared in front of him, not knowing where to lay his eyes or rather on whom.

Damien felt like he was going through the most embarrassing moment of his life.

He wanted to open the door of his apartment and run to take refuge there and escape from the prying eyes that were on him.

It didn't help when Nabokov moved even closer to him, their bodies almost touching.

Damien had no choice but to look up at the Russian and speak.

This was precisely what Craig and Nabokov expected of him, speak up and affirm for himself what he wanted and did not want.

It was time for Damien to finally make a choice between two men who both seemed to want him.

This realization hit him hard and he remained silent for an unknown amount of time.

It shouldn't have been be very long since neither Nabokov nor Craig signaled his silence to him.

Knowing that silence could be seen as an answer in itself, Damien finally decided to speak but he himself held back the words in his mouth when he noticed the arrival of two men in black suits, looking like they came out a Hollywood action movie.

Both newcomers were wearing glasses, so Damien couldn't make anything of their expression.

It didn't take long for Damien to guess that it was Nabokov's bodyguards who had just arrived.

The men didn't move and they stood aside, as if they were waiting for something.

Damien had to admit that their presence unsettled him because he wondered why Nabokov's henchmen had decided to show up now.

Was it because Craig was here?

Were they here to hurt Craig?

Damien started to fear the worst but he didn't show it.

Panicking was never going to help ease the tension.

Craig himself didn't seem to mind the arrival of the bodyguards anyway.

When the men had showed up, Craig had turned slightly to see what had seemed to attract Damien's attention before turning around a second later, the expression on his face blank, as if the presence of the two men didn't intimidate him at all and was completely normal.

Perhaps he had seen these men outside before entering the building.

It was possible and that would explain why he didn't seem confused by their presence like Damien was.

Nabokov hadn't taken his eyes off Damien, patiently waiting for a response from him.Damien had almost forgotten what had been said with all the distraction there had been.

The Russian wanted to hear him say with his own mouth that he didn't want him in life, as if Damien hadn't done that over and over again.

Who was Alexander Nabokov kidding?

[duskamethyst]

mistakes.

a/n: totally for self indulgence... don’t know how is this gonna do though since i’m not sure if a lot of people has caught up with the manga but i’m pretty sure the fandom has seen him at least once and instantly thirst for him. so, idk what colour his eyes are (i can see blue but fanwiki says green so i stuck with that and in between). this comes with a package of me pointing out how big and buff he is and idc if you’ll get annoyed over it.

word count: 6.1k

genre: AU, nsfw, smut, angst if you squint

warnings: DARK – NONCON, coercion, corruption kink, daddy kink, size kink, choking, mind break, breeding, face fucking, slight dacryphilia, spitting, age gap, degradation, virgin reader, dilf toji manhandling reader

pairing: toji x f!reader

languages available: vietnamese.

summary: you want to surprise your bestie, megumi upon his arrival home from college but things take a terrible turn.

one.

heavy rain starts pouring as soon as you’ve reached the front doorstep of the fushiguro’s household. it was a dumb idea to not bring an umbrella with you despite the sky already starting to get dark when you left home earlier, but you were willing to push your luck and started sprinting once you felt prickles of droplets landing on your skin. with a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the heavy downpour from soaking your clothes.

drawing a deep and relieved sigh, you take a moment to regain control over your breathing before knocking the big front door. aware of the aftermath of the run, you fix your hair with your hands as you wait for megumi to come and greet you. 

college made you and the male to part ways until phones were the only thing that kept you both up to date with each other’s lives. ironically enough, that’s the thing you forgot to bring when you left home in a rush and excitement to surprise your dear friend since he’s coming home today. you can vividly remember the last text you read; he was at the train station and you had to estimate the time of his arrival and the time he would be at home instead of asking him.

however, you’re caught slightly off guard when a different man opens the door for you instead. nonetheless, your lips curl to a sweet smile and there’s a brief of awkward silence before he speaks. you know him, but he doesn’t seem to remember you at all.

“you’re..?” with a tilt of his head, he looks down at you with a curious brow. 

“it’s me, mr. fushiguro!” you offer your name, scrutinizing the expression on his face as his forehead crinkles while he jogs through his memories. then he glances at you and away in thought and back at you again with wide eyes when he finally recalls.

“oh, it’s you!” he ruffles your hair, a bit too enthusiastic in spite of his usual character that you were always familiar with. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

you let out a little laugh, “yeah. i think i was fourteen the last time i saw you, mr. fushiguro. but it’s nice to see you again.”

“ah, yes. i had to go out of town and overseas for business a lot.” toji explains, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly bashful that he didn’t recognize the girl– no, woman before him even when you both have met plenty of times back when you often came to play with his son since you both were still little. 

but can anyone blame him? time works wonders and now the little girl he used to know has grown to be much more mature and gorgeous and so... demure.

“yeah, megumi told me. speaking of him, is he home?” you finally inquire, bringing up the reason why you’re here in the first place. 

two.

“why don’t you come in first? it’s cold outside.” he says before immediately turning around without answering your question. you close the door behind you and follow him closely, also somewhat intimidated when you realize how tall and huge he is– the tight fitting shirt stretches over his wide back and accentuating his physique even more. his arms are toned and popping with veins, not the way you used to remember at least, but you’ve never cared to notice. you’re not certain of his age either, but you’re pretty sure you’d be surprised if you find out.

“do you want coffee or tea?” toji suddenly breaks the silence as you nervously stand in the middle of the room to take a glimpse around the kitchen like it’s your first time being there, completely heedless over his gaze lingering up and down your curves, observing the figure of a girl who just freshly went through her womanhood and your lascivious beauty before he quickly turns around to grab two mugs from the cabinet. 

“anything is fine.” you politely reply, fear of sounding somewhat demanding if you choose your preference despite being offered with choices. 

“come on, you’re giving a man a hard time.” he jokes. “and sit down.”

he’s trying to extend his invitation though intentionally sounding assertive, but when he sees that you are quick to comply and scramble to your seat, he finds it to be... stimulating. at least he knows that you’re docile and he wonders if he could put it to the test. well, doesn’t matter. he will.

“coffee is good.” you smile, interrupting his train of thoughts and he pours the coffee from the pot before walking over to hand you your mug. 

“unfortunately,” he sits down on the chair next to you. “megumi isn’t home right now.” toji puts his lips between the warm mug and softly blows before sipping his coffee. “he wanted to take a short trip to the store but i think he’s going to be stuck there for a while.” he looks out the window to only see pitch black staring back at him along with roaring thunder from the skies.

“oh.” you mutter, taking a careful sip of the hot brew. a little disappointed that you couldn’t see megumi yet, but his dad is right– it’s nearly a disaster outside but you find no point hanging around any longer either.

“is it too bitter? you don’t like it?” his voice laces with concern when he notices your face involuntarily scrunches up at the bitter taste. 

you quickly shake your head, “no, no. it’s fine!” you reassure, afraid that he’ll take offense from the coffee he personally made. “besides, if megumi isn’t here, i–”

three.

“oh, it’s fine if you wait here for him.” he cuts you off. “unfortunately, we don’t have an extra umbrella.” the corners of his lips tug into a comforting smile and you are quick to relax into it. 

you’ve always found toji to be quite frightening when you were young. he seemed like someone who never smiled, always had a sombre and intense vibe to him that no child would be too fond of.  there was no exchange of words between you two, except for your constant brief hello and a smile that you did out of courtesy whenever you bump into him inside his house, even though he never replied anything back. not even a crack on the lips to return the smile. 

but today is different. probably because he finds it easier for him to talk to an adult than a child and you’re relieved that you’re able to humor him in some way.

“so, are you and megumi a thing?” he abruptly asks and glances at you as he sips his coffee.

“no, we’re not!” you titter, waving a hand in dismissal as you bring up the mug to hide your face from embarrassment.

“oh?” a glint of amusement and surprise shines in his green eyes. “are you sure?”

you blink at the question as heat warms your cheeks from the thought of dating your best friend. “yes, megumi and i are just friends. really.” 

“why? because you have a boyfriend?” toji pries, uncaring if he sounds intrusive to you and you only assume that he’s trying to strike up a conversation in some old fashioned way.

you just shake your head and laugh, “it’s not that, either.” 

“hmm,” he props his elbow on the table leisurely, head resting on his fist as he looks at you intently, as if in search of something. “you’re pretty hard to figure out.” 

“what do you mean? i don’t think so.” you smile, bringing up the mug to cover your face again so you can shy away from his intense gaze yet he thinks that it’s endearing and he finds himself grinning unwillingly. 

toji notices how you always try to look away when you get so shy over some simple questions. you’re just oozing with purity and innocence of a maiden and something dark and twisted inside him is craving to violate every part of it. 

“for a start, i can’t figure out why you don’t have one.” he says, tapping his fingertips on the table as his mind is running with sinful thoughts. 

“hmm, maybe because i haven’t found anyone interesting yet.” you finally lock your eyes with his as you answer, not wanting to come off as rude if you keep on talking without looking directly at the man.

“isn’t my son good for you?” he couldn’t care less to be honest; he only plans to test the waters and is even more aroused to learn that you’ve never been touched by a man before and he feels like a wolf that’s just ready to pounce on a lost, little lamb.

“oh, no, no!” why do you have to get so bashful? he’ll fuck you on this table if you don’t stop. “we just don’t see each other that way.”

he’s so lost in his thoughts and carnal desires that whatever you’re babbling seems to go in one ear and out the other.

“then, what do you think of me?” he asks nonchalantly with a smirk plastered across his face.

you blink at him once, twice. “uhh, what?” is he suddenly getting self-conscious? 

“you heard me. what do you think of me?” yet he doesn’t seem like it either.

“umm,” you ponder for a moment as you think of every adjective you can find in your head that wouldn’t come out offensive if you’re going to be honest with him. why would he even ask you such a thing anyways? and why would it matter to him? there’s nothing nice about him that you could exactly pinpoint from the past except for ‘scary’, ‘serious’ and some other things revolving around those.

“i thought that you were kinda... scary?” you blurt unsurely, mentally slapping yourself for even daring to say such a thing to him. unless it’s a vibe that he was going for, then you’d be relieved. 

it isn’t exactly what toji wants to hear but he laughs heartily, “really?” a shiver runs down your spine when he looks at you again, his eyes glimmering with daunt. “but are you still scared of me?”

“uh, no.” you laugh. “you’re actually really nice, mr. fushiguro.” 

“oh, that makes me feel better.” another grin etches on his scarred lips as he draws his gaze to your hands that are tensing and fiddling with your sleeves and your leg is bouncing; a perfect depiction of a trembling lamb cornered in his den– and he’s fucking starving. 

has he got you on edge? are you nervous? good. “but i think you should.”

a lump catches in your throat and your heart drops, “i- what?”

the chair emits a screeching sound and it stumbles backwards as toji abruptly stands up from his seat. sheer panic causes you to rise on your feet too, and your eyes dart to the chair, and the male, back and forth as your mind tries to get a grasp on the situation.

“mr. fushiguro..?” you whisper meekly, taking a step away and around the table as you notice him taking a careful yet threatening inch closer. 

“no, no. i’m not gonna hurt you.” toji (barely) reassures you as he continues creeping on his feet. but the sinister smile on his lips takes out every last bit of faith you had in him and the loud voice in your head keeps telling you to run for the door and never look back– fuck the rain.

 as if he can read through your thoughts, he warns. “but i will, if you run.” 

the smile on toji’s face turns smug when he sees you freeze in place upon his threat. being trapped under the unpleasant situation triggers your fight or flight responses and rapid heartbeat drums in your ears as you stand in trance and trepidation.

“that’s a good girl.” he coos, taking another step forward before you decide to throw a mug at him and dash towards the door as fast as you can. you assume that toji has pushed the table to the floor when you hear a loud thud, followed by his hasty footsteps as he catches up quickly behind you. 

the door that is finally within arm’s reach suddenly changes into a mirage when a strong pair of arms grabs you by the waist and your body floats as it lifts onto his shoulder. the huge contrast between the size of your body and his should let you know; no matter how much you try to resist, he will never budge. yet, your arms and legs still flail around in an attempt to punch and kick him and you’re screaming for him to let you down and just hope that anyone is able to hear your cries in spite of the thunderstorm. 

well, so much for luck.

“ah, ah. you don’t wanna do that.” there’s a mocking and amusing tone in his voice as he advises you. “you should save that energy later. juuust in a bit.” 

“mr. fushiguro– stop–!” you sob, watching your only escape slowly disappears out of sight when he turns to a corner and into a dark room. your body bounces onto a mattress before toji’s huge, ripped figure swiftly looms above yours and ties your hands together with a belt and onto the headboard. at this point, the illuminating lights through the windows are the only thing that aids your vision and you have to rely more on your senses.

“shh,” he shushes you with a finger against your trembling lips. “the neighbors will hear. and if they do, i want it to be because you’re getting fucked so good. so be a good little girl for daddy, okay?”

regardless of being terrified, you find yourself cringing over the nickname he refers to himself. hopefully, he won’t ask you to call him that either. “mr. fushiguro– i– please don’t do this. i- i won’t tell anyone.” 

toji tsks, taking his sweet time to admire your smaller body underneath his– the exposed, soft skin on your neck waiting to be bruised, chest heaving as your breath comes deep and short, and legs pressing together to secure your modesty; though will prove to be futile later. 

“i know you won’t.” his thumb grazes against your lips, mesmerized by its plushness as he imagines it wrapped prettily around his throbbing cock. “are you a virgin?”

you only nod your head, eyes wavering as you look at his darker ones before catching it shine with interest. 

“never had anything inside here?” he asks again, pressing your cunt against the fabric of your pants with his fingers. the dark room makes it hard to see, but your cheeks are turning red from humiliation and you look away before shaking your head no.

“are you sure?” toji’s thumb presses down on your clit and causes your body to shudder apprehensively.

“o-only my finger.” you audibly whisper through the white noise outside. 

oh, how exhilarating. guess the innocent looking ones can be lewd too. don’t you know that a cock would make you feel better? a big cock like his is definitely what you need. just a finger wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you! poor little thing. 

“then i got to teach you a few things, right? it’ll come handy later. boys love girls with experiences.” he promptly strips you off from your pants before carelessly throws it to the ground and kneels between your legs to keep you wide and open for him.

“you like to be touched here?” his finger reaches down to ghost over your clothed clit, observing you with lust filled eyes while you turn away from his gaze and remain unresponsive. “daddy is a very impatient person so i suggest you answer me.”

toji pinches your clit, and your body squirms with an elicited yelp. you can only guess (and hope) that he wasn’t referring to him touching you there but you answer anyway, “y-yes.”

he hums in satisfaction, moving down until his head stops between your thighs and in front of your sex. toji grabs your thigh and spreads them apart before flattening his warm tongue against your clothed bud, causing a shiver to run down your spine and it quickly draws your attention to him.

your face heats up in embarrassment when you see toji’s head dipped in front of your pussy, but he’s only calm and teasing as his jade eyes stare up to lock with yours to look for a reaction.

“you’ve never felt a tongue over here either, hm?” he sneers, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you mentally curse yourself for feeling slightly aroused over his ministrations. 

“just let me go, please.” you try to close your legs, but to no avail when his rough hands push them away.

“you know, if you keep asking for ridiculous things,” toji tuts and grasps your supple thighs hard, nails digging painfully on your skin. “i might have to get rough on you. but you’re a smart girl and you wouldn’t like that, right?” 

“n-no.” you choke and fidget.

“good. because i only want you to feel good.” he offers a gentle smile and kisses the dented mark on your thigh. “so, let’s start over. you haven’t answered me.”

you nibble your lip hesitantly and look anywhere but him, “no.”

“see? all the more reason for me to show you what you’ve been missing out.” he chuckles, tugging your underwear to the side impatiently.

“fuck. such a pretty pussy.” he growls at the sight of your bare cunt. there isn’t a lot of slick yet, but it’s fine, he’ll make you get there. that’s the point of this whole ordeal, right?

your body quivers naturally once you feel the foreign sensation; wet, warm muscle prodding your puffy folds up to your clit and circling on it with the tip of his tongue teasingly as he observes you from below. 

your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are caught between your teeth as you try to restrict your whines from the undeniable pleasure rushing in your veins and he doesn’t stop– your pathetic attempt to deny him and your sentiments only drives him to push you over the edge even more. 

with a harsh suck on your clit, he manages to get you to squeal and you can feel him smirking underneath you. toji flattens his tongue and laps off your juices again before he takes you by surprise when he suddenly slides a finger inside your tight, wet cunt. 

“shh. it’ll feel good, baby girl.” he comforts when he hears you whimper at the pain inflicted and true enough, it soon begins to feel good. you’ve fingered yourself plenty of times before, but it feels different when he does it for you– his finger is thick and long that it reaches deeper than you’ve ever been able to.

toji notices you start to become quiet so he slides in another digit, eliciting yet another sob from you. the warm and moist cunny makes his cock twitch and he finds himself getting eager. your back arches from the bed when toji curls his fingers to stroke the bumpy tissues of your g-spot with every drag.

“feels good, yeah?” he grins arrogantly as your legs tremble under his hold. your breathing has turned erratic and your toes are curling as your mouth gapes in pitiful, broken cries that are just music to his ears. 

“answer me, sweetheart.” he presses down a thumb on your neglected clit, reminding you that he is not keen on being ignored and disputed. 

“y-yes.” you finally choke through pants and shame. though the answer comes out in hesitance, your body is more honest– pussy sopping and eliciting obscene squelches and it’s enough to satisfy him for now. 

your head thrashes side to side as you feel yourself about to tip over but you still refuse to beg toji for a release. 

“hah– fuck!” you whimper loudly when toji oh-so-generously sucks your clit again, fingers pumping faster inside your cunt, making your body feel even more tense with overbearing stimulation before finally pushing you over the edge and you break into a silent scream.

toji laps off your slick before he pulls out his finger into his mouth and licks them clean. 

“that’s a good girl. why don’t you taste yourself?” he climbs on top of you while you gasp for air from the intense orgasm and he easily pulls you into a fervour, sloppy kiss. you can feel the wet slick on his chin and you can taste yourself at the same time as he intertwines his tongue with yours. 

four.

out of spite and vexation, you found courage to bite his tongue hard and toji instantly pushes himself from you, his dark eyes express astonishment and agitation.

“fucking bitch.” he curses as his eyes narrow at you displeasingly before he takes off his pants and briefs to release his cock from its confinements. his cock is throbbing and thick, and you can almost see a trickle of precum on its head. you crumple at the sight as regret and anxiety washes over you.

“don’t worry, it’ll fit.” he says cockily upon the worrisome look on your face. “but since you like it rough, i’m sure you want to choke on it first.” 

“no– i’m sorry!” you shake your head but toji only lets out a scornful laugh as he disregards your pleas and props himself on the knees and over your neck.

toji slaps the tip of his cock on your lips, gesturing you to open your mouth but you purse them into a flat, thin line and refuse to obey. 

“open up. it’s a part of your lesson after all.” he snaps before squeezing your cheeks together. “it’ll get worse if you don’t listen to me.” 

“d-don’t wa-ant to– flea-shh.” you whimper and toji emits a long, deep sigh as he releases his grip. 

“i don’t like repeating myself.” his voice is laced with malice and chills crawls up your spine as his eyes look down at you demeaningly before you slowly open your mouth trepidatiously and wait for his next order. 

“no teeth. i think you’d know that much.” he patronizes before sliding his cock inside your mouth and he hisses as the warmth engulfs his throbbing cock. “that’s it. now, suck.”

and you have no choice but to obey submissively. you slightly lift your head and struggle to take his length as much as you can before running your tongue around to feel each prominent vein.

“i said suck, whore.” he commands through gritted teeth. you hollow your cheeks, compressing his fat cock tight between them as you bop your head up and down. 

“fuuuck, just like that.” toji groans as his hand reaches the top of your head and caresses you softly. you start to pick up the pace, slobbering his dick with so much saliva that it begins to seep from the corners of your mouth and it’s so wet and obscene– just the way he likes it. 

“it almost makes me think that this isn’t your first time.” his head falls back and hips begin to jerk until the tip hits the back of your throat, forcing you to take more than you could. you choke as tears start to well up in your eyes and the bedhead shakes when you try to tug your wrists. 

“what’s wrong? can’t take my fat cock?” he scoffs arrogantly. “you gotta work on your gag reflex, sweetheart.”

the muffles from your throat vibrate against his dick and toji groans in pleasure that he subconsciously rocks his hips, slapping your chin with his balls. your vision has become blurry and breathing becomes harder as you let him abuse your throat and your jaws ache before he abruptly pulls out and you can finally gasp for precious air.

“look at you,” his cock twitches with excitement when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks from your doe eyes and he wipes them away with his thumb, making you flinch slightly, “are you sorry for making daddy mad?” 

toji always tries to articulate each word with appease. it’s never soothing per se when you can sense the threat entwining in his voice and it’s fucking you psychologically.

and it deems to be successful when you’re already trembling in fear underneath him. 

you’re uncertain whether he prefers you to speak or not, but your throat is sore so you meekly nod your head in response. it’s better than nothing, to be honest.

“good. open your mouth.”

your mouth is already parted for air but you assume that he wants to put his cock in again. submissively, yet dreadfully, you open your mouth wider and await for him to shove his cock back in but you’re surprised when toji spits in your mouth instead. 

it’s warm and disgusting; you’re just left gaping and repelled, and you want to spit it out but toji squeezes your cheeks together.

“swallow.” he orders. you quickly brace yourself and close your eyes before cringing as you gulp down the mix of saliva in your mouth and toji releases his grip once he’s certain that you’ve ingested. 

“i could’ve made you swallow my cum but i’d feel bad,” he chuckles sardonically. “what do you have to say?” 

“t-thank you.” you whisper vaguely and he accustoms his face to a simper. 

“good girl.” toji smashes his lips onto yours, yet his eyes are locked with yours ominously for a brief second– a telltale that he expects you not to pull up another stunt before they close as he deepens the kiss. 

obviously, nothing would benefit you whether you comply or defy, not until you’ve catered for his insatiable lechery. but you’ve learned your lesson and although you’re compelled, you finally relent as every ounce of resistance begins to drift from you. 

toji breaks the kiss and shifts lower, peppering greedy kisses on your neck before he catches the soft, chaste skin between his teeth to suck and form purplish bruising marks. he lifts up your shirt over your head and hastily unclasps your bra, causing you to shudder once the cold air hits your exposed breasts. 

large, calloused hands press your mounds before his mouth latches on one perky tit, while the other is tweaked with his fingers. experienced tongue draws circles and sucks punishingly, alternating with the other nipple. the headboard rattles as you keen over the stimulation and your eyes open in dismay when you feel something hard prodding your clit. 

he moves lower and spits on your cunt before propping on his knees to take off his tight shirt– through subdued glow, you can make out the outline of his toned abs and broad chest as his large build towers menacingly in front of you; even when he’s not standing on his feet.

“listen. daddy is going to release the binds, but do you promise to be good?” he asks, smearing the saliva with his cockhead and against your slit.

“yes. i- i promise.” you murmur appallingly; as if you have a choice in the matter.

toji leans over to unrestrain you then he observes you, expecting you to put up a fight but instead, you just remain still underneath him. 

he grins in satisfaction, getting off to the fact that you’ve fallen into submission before he shifts back into his prior position and bends your knees up to line his cock with your hole. a feeling of triumph stirs inside him when he’s reminded that he’s the ‘chosen’ one to defile your innocence.

“stop! it hurts–!” you wail and your hands clench the sheets when you feel toji’s thick cock stretching your virgin cunt slowly, but he ignores you, groaning at the warmth that engulfs him and the tight walls that clenches him as he selfishly pushes through. 

it burns. so bad. your chest heaves rapidly and you screw your eyes shut as your face twists to express pain and uncomfort. “please, please–! i can’t–”

“yes, you can.” his tone is indifferent as he holds you down since your body keeps on wincing until he finally fills you to the brim and he can see a bulge poking on your tummy. 

“fuck. haven’t been inside a virgin cunt for a while.” he mutters under his breath. “now, i know it hurts but i promise you’ll enjoy it. it’s just too bad that you get to have a big cock as your first.” he snickers nonchalantly and leans down closer to your face, making you jolt when you feel it inching deeper.

“if it makes you feel better– you’re fucking tight. just the way daddy likes it.” toji whispers in your ear but you can only freeze in fear and agony.

toji hovers above you, his hands firmly grip the headboard in front of him and he begins to move his hips; thrusting in and out of your pussy. 

your fists clench the sheets harder as a loud cry rips from your throat, “no! it hurts! please!”

but toji doesn’t seem to mind, his cyan orbs stare down at you coldly yet in focus as he relishes over the plush walls clamping down on his cock. 

“stop! stop– i- i don’t want–!” you continuously wail as you writhe in anguish before he suddenly stops pounding and he wraps his hand around your neck instead, instantly drawing your attention to him as he applies pressure in his hold. 

“if you don’t stop whining like a bitch in heat, i will fucking breed you like one.” he warns through gritted teeth, clearly agitated over your act of defiance. 

“you want this. you’re going to love this.” his words are sick endeavours to coerce you into another round of complete submission. 

but what else can you do? toji’s hand is so large that his middle finger and thumb almost reach each other as it clasps around your frail neck and you know he can easily crush your windpipes if he wants to.

“say it. you. want. this.” he seethes.

“i. want. this.” you barely croak each word and they’re slowly influencing your cloudy mind. as soon as he releases you, you soothe the pain around your throat with your hand as you gasp for air.

“fuck. don’t think i didn’t feel you clenching around my cock just now.” he sneers and situates himself again before ruthlessly and steadily continuing where he left off. 

you only close your eyes and bite your lips hard to stop whimpering as you mentally comfort yourself and dissolve every inch of your sanity; i’m going to enjoy it, it’s going to feel good soon, i want this, i want this.

soon enough, toji notices that your muscles have relaxed– suggesting that you’ve finally caved in as pleasure overtakes you so he fucks you deeper and faster before he falls on his elbows and you can feel his bangs tickling your face.

“that’s it, baby. you make daddy feel so fucking good.” he praises between grunts. you can feel the veins on his cock dragging against your walls and he’s right, it feels so good and your lips open in breathless pants.

you find your arms to loosely wrap around his neck and your legs around his waist as if clinging onto him for dear life as toji ruts into your cunny like a feral beast. 

“you like it, yeah? this is what you want, isn’t it?” 

through hazy mind, you can only manage to whimper an audible ‘yes’ as you feel an odd, yet almost familiar knot twisting in your lower stomach begging to snap and your nails dig into the skin of his broad back upon the intense sensation shooting through your body. 

a low, deep guttural sound leaves his throat when he feels your nails sinking and scratching his back– it prompts him to quicken his pace and you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over, causing your back to arch simultaneously. 

“i’m– i’m gonna–!” you keen as your body trembles in anticipation and your sopping cunt is clenching on his throbbing cock like a vice. 

“fuck yeah. cum on daddy’s cock.” toji urges and nips on the sensitive skin of your neck to tip you over the edge and your pupils blow wide as you break into a scream. despite being your second orgasm for the night, an overwhelming euphoria washes over you for the first time of your life; is this what it feels like? you don’t know, you’ve never had one (at least not from a cock) and your pussy is just fluttering, pulsing and creaming around his cock. 

“hah– fuck. good girl.” 

toji remains to snap his hips, fucking you through your high as you’re left in daze from your orgasm. toji can feel his balls tensing and his thrusts are turning sporadic as he inches closer to his climax. your whines and nonsense babbles are drowned by the feeling of pleasure that’s enveloping him and he doesn’t even have the resolution to listen to you gibbering when your cunny is just milking him, sucking him in like it doesn’t want to let go and he just wants to give what your greedy pussy asks for; to fill it up with his thick load until it’s full and leaking out of you. 

and daddy knows best, after all.

“shit– i won’t be able to hold it any longer. say you want daddy’s cum.” he grunts.

you’ve partly snapped out of your daze when you hear his voice again, and though you can’t see his face that’s already buried next to your head, you’re petrified and it’s making you feel dizzy and suffocated. 

“i– n-no. please not–” you sob through your raw throat.

but toji doesn’t listen and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not because if he does, you know that it’ll tick him off and it’s going to do you more harm than good– but you’re scared and it hurts, that you unwillingly start to snivel again.

“shut up. you’re gonna take it like a good cumslut.” he shoves two long fingers in your mouth, causing you to choke on them.

“daddy’s gonna cum in this pretty pussy and you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

toji’s grunts ring in your ears and you’re able to feel his cock twitching inside you before he finally releases hot ropes of cum– filling up and defiling your womb.

“y-you came inside..” you mumble once he takes out his fingers as you’re left entirely devastated and stupefied. 

“fucking did.” he pants, lifting his body up from you and pulls out his cock to shove back the dribbling cum that’s leaking from your abused cunny with his finger. you would wince but your mind is already numb and your body is sore that you can do nothing but burn holes through the ceiling above.

“don’t look so sad.” the room resonates with his chuckles and he gets off the bed to put back on his pants. toji walks over to the nightstand where a pack of cigarettes await him and he puts one between his lips and you can hear the flicking sounds of a lighter as he tries to burn the tip. 

“i can promise you that other guys wouldn’t be rough as me but one thing’s for sure,” he inhales the tobacco and exhales in a gratifying manner, “that will stay as the best fuck of your life.”

fat tears stream down your cheeks and you curl on your side, protecting your now-ruined-body as you quietly sob and your mind takes you back from how the ordeal even started and causes you to end up where you are right now– and it only makes you cry harder.

toji only lets out an exasperated sigh. he grabs his shirt from the floor and throws it on his shoulder before reaching the door.

“megumi won’t be coming home ‘til tomorrow. he said something about the train and the weather, so you can leave when you’re done. you know your way out.”

you hear the door close shut behind him and you’re left in the dark with nothing but the smell of his tobacco and the sounds of the drizzling rain accompanying you as you drown in your thoughts and griefs. 

how many mistakes have you made today? four? five? or more? 

you’ve lost count and you question yourself over again until you’re no longer able to care.

what’s done is done.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

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[thedoubteriswise]

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.