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angy-mouse · 1 year

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Puck Bunny Part 2

10.7k words jfc im going to shove my head in a hole for a week and die. in lieu of flowers, donations can be made to my gummy worm funds /j

Hockey was aggressive. It was a full-contact sport with so frequent rule breaking, the penalty box was invented. Hockey players, by proxy, couldn’t afford to be hesitant, shy people.

HOOOONK

“Oh my god,” Niki cackled, looking over your shoulder.

You shook your head, taking a long sip of your Starbucks. “There better be a goddamn car crash behind me. With casualties.”

“Darlin’!”

“I’m gonna leave you alone with your valley boy,” Niki declared, clapping you on the shoulder. “Text me if you’re gonna stay or if you need a ride, use protection, pee after, yadda yadda-”

“I told you, I’m not fucking the VAL-U hockey team!”

“You don’t have to be ashamed with me, puddin’, I think the rivalry makes it romantic. You’re like a BBW Juliet and her harem of meathead Romeos.”

An arm thicker than a steel cable wrapped around your shoulders from behind, and a scruffy chin settled into the crown of your head. “I’m not a meathead,” Sapnap insisted, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Hi, bunny!”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as he nuzzled against your temple, Niki waving her fingers with a knowing smirk as she left. “Hi, Sap,” you greeted, voice cracking as he captured the shell of your ear between his teeth and made playful noises like he was devouring you. “Wha- Sapnap, please-”

“Please what, darlin’,” he muttered with a grin. “I’ll give you anything if you ask as pretty as that, sugar, you know that.” His hands came down to your waist, unashamedly groping at your chub and using his hold to manhandle you back against him. A gasp pulled itself past your lips as you felt the imprint of something against your ass through his shorts and your skirt- god, you hoped he was hard. If his cock was that big flaccid, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from dropping to your knees right then and there.

You didn’t want him to let go of you. His body heat was soaking into you like a furnace, and his firm chest against your back made you feel so safe. You wanted his arms around you always, a promise to protect you from everything.

“You’re gonna fuck a valley right in our fucking courtyard?!”

Sapnap’s head snapped up, grip tightening on you as he glared daggers across the field. “Don’t talk to my fucking girl, techie! You wanna fucking go, I’ll tear you apart-”

“Shut the fuck up and get in the truck, Sap! Gas is too expensive for your bullshit!” Sam waved at you through the window when you whipped around, then returned Sapnap’s middle finger.

“Sapnap,” you finally managed to say, reaching back to tug on his shirt. Your mouth went dry as his attention instantly flicked back to you, expression going soft as his hands rubbed your hips. “Why are you guys here?”

He lit up as if he’d forgotten and started tugging you along. “We’re taking you out for pizza and a movie, sug’! We got a projector set up, and a bunch of blankets and pillows in the truck bed- it’ll be fun, promise!”

You shouldn’t have been surprised. After that first time you let them buy you dinner and cocoa, they’ve texted you nearly every day in the group chat Sam made. Sometimes it was cute, asking if you’d eaten and letting you know they’d door dashed you a treat. Sometimes it was videos of them being dumb in the locker room in nothing but towels that looked ready to fall off, skin still wet from the showers. And every once in a while, when it was just two of you still awake in the early hours of the mornings, you’d get messages about how they missed you. Paragraphs about the way you fill their minds as they try to sleep, both memories and new fantasies keeping them awake. They’d ask to show you what you did to them. Sometimes you said yes and got sent a video, watching them rub themselves over their boxers, as if they only wanted enough to calm down- as if they didn’t care to come without you. Sometimes you told them to just keep talking and received a voice message, listening to them groan between words about all the different ways they wanted you.

“So, do you wanna come?”

Your face heated up at the phrasing combined with your thoughts, but Sapnap simply smiled down at you as if he didn’t notice how his tank-top-exposed arms trapped your eyes.

“Ye- yeah, I wanna come.” He let out the cutest little cheer as he opened the passenger door, and you tore your eyes off him to wonder how you were supposed to climb in such a tall truck. “I’m in a skirt, so how do I- oh god, fuck!”

“I gotcha,” Sapnap laughed, hands on your hips lifting you into the truck as if you weighed absolutely nothing. “There you go,” he hummed as he set you into the seat, nodding as if he was about to impart some great wisdom. “Passenger princesses don’t have to lift themselves into the truck.”

“Or,” was hummed into your ear as another set of broad hands on your waist pulled you to the middle seat. “Buckle themselves up,” Sam finished as he strapped you in with a light kiss to the tip of your nose. “Hi, bunny. Missed you.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” teasingly slipped out as Sapnap climbed in, sandwiching you perfectly between two beefy Texans who were now laughing so prettily. “I missed you guys, too,”

Sam’s hand landed on your knee the second he was done shifting gears, long fingers spread wide so his pinky could just barely dip under the fabric of your skirt. Sapnap stretched a long arm over the back of the seats, letting you rest your head on his firm bicep as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “You want some sweets, bunny,” he hummed, smiling against you as you simply hummed, preoccupied memorizing the shapes Sam drew on your inner thigh. He pulled a convenience store bag off the floor and started searching through it.

“Y’know, that’d probably be easier with two hands.”

He gasped, looking at you with feigned hurt before leaning forward to speak around you. “Bunny doesn’t want my arm around her.”

“I didn’t say-”

“It’s a damn shame,” Sam chimed with a shake of his head, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t take long for a cute lil’ thing to forget who fucked her dumb,”

“That’s it,” Sapnap decided, finally pulling out a candy bar and ripping it open with his teeth. “I make you go a little too dumb on my tongue last week, bunny? Guess I can’t hold that against you, can I? Come on, have some chocolate.”

“I hate you both,” you managed through grit teeth, resisting as he poked at your lips with the candy bar. It was your favorite, but that didn’t matter: you couldn’t give in. The only thing worse than two cocky hockey players was two cocky hockey players who had a reason to be cocky.

“She hates us,” Sapnap relayed over your head.

“Funny way of showing it.”

“I think she actually kinda likes us.”

“Oh, she really likes us. You don’t let three guys you hate fuck you raw- even if you are a puck bunny.”

Your face burned more than it ever had, but not because you were angry. You couldn’t make yourself angry when their voices dripped with adoration like that, as if you were a kitten and no matter how much you hissed and scratched, they’d continue to coo over you and feed you. “... I’m not a puck bunny,” you finally muttered out, taking a vicious bite from the candy to make Sapnap yelp as you grazed his fingers.

“Nineteen,” Sam mused, ticking up a finger, “Sappy, Punzy, and me. I think four in a row and three at the same time makes you a puck bunny, darlin’.”

Your senior year boyfriend was a goalie for the J.V. team, but you would rather die than bring that up now. “Where’s Punz? At least when he’s here, you’re too busy killing each other to make fun of me.”

“We’re not making fun of you,” came from your right alongside another poke of chocolatey goodness. “Being a puck bunny is a good thing- and being our puck bunny is a great thing.”

“Coach kept him behind to go over the new strats you brought us,” Sam told you with a squeeze to your leg. “You’re gonna be there when we crush the techies, right?”

You huffed as Sapnap managed to get you to take another bite. “If I’m not, this was all for nothing- Sap, are you trying to fatten me up?”

“You said you had a salad for lunch!” You were taken aback by his accusatory tone and narrowed eyes as he poked the remaining candy into your mouth, letting you hold it between your teeth while he dug through his bag. “You didn’t even have soup or breadsticks with it!”

“It’s a cafeteria, not Olive Garden!”

“Let us feed you! We fucked you, now we feed you! That’s how this works!”

“You bought me Subway, cocoa, and gummy worms while my legs were still shaking!”

“Well, now we’re feeding you before we fuck you, we’re switching it up!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms under your chest and drawing his eyes to your tits- as if they ever left. “What makes you think either of you get to fuck me again?”

“Might have something to do with the fact that Sam’s almost reached your panties, and you haven’t slapped him yet.”

You stared directly into Sapnap’s smug smirk and delivered a harsh smack to Sam’s knuckles, but he only pulled his hand back down to your knee. “Hey now, don’t let chuckle fuck here goad you into anything you don’t wanna do, darlin’. I know you just wanna brat a little, an’ that’s just fine.”

God, you wanted to slap that understanding look off his handsome face. “I,” you grit out, red-faced, “am not a brat.”

His expression didn’t change as he nodded with a hum, eyes sternly on the road. “If you’re not a brat,” he mused, “you must actually want my hand off your leg, then.” You had to clench your fists to stop yourself from grabbing his wrist as he put both hands on the wheel, leaving your thigh to be attacked by the A.C. You wanted his hands on you- Sapnap’s, too- and you wanted them so badly you were tempted to slip off your skirt just to get some attention.

The truck came to a smooth stop at a red light, and Sam looked over at you, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

You unfastened your seatbelt and sat heavy on Sapnap’s lap, thunking your sneakers down on Sam’s thigh.

“There’s my sugar,” Sapnap cheered, thick arms wrapping around you and holding you tight to his chest until you could feel his heartbeat through your shoulder. His hand found your hip like a magnet, fingertips digging into the meat of your ass with an eager squeeze. “God, I love this gorgeous ass.”

“I can deal with bratting, but if you don’t put a fucking seatbelt on-”

“I’ve got her, Sammy!”

“You fumbled the easiest shot ever last week, I don’t trust you for shit!” A blaring honk made you realize the light had turned green, but Sam simply threw open the back window and stuck his hand out to flip the bird, eyes still locked on yours. “Sit your fine ass down properly and put your seatbelt back on, bunny.”

You actually would have if he hadn’t chosen that nickname. Instead, you purposefully wiggled your hips as if settling in and leaned further into Sapnap’s chest, making it rumble under you with a chuckle as you felt a twitch against your ass. “You’re not fucking winning this, man, she’s in for the long haul.” You might’ve felt like you’d won as Sam turned away, if it hadn’t been for the way he set his jaw before slamming on the gas. The force sent you deeper into Sapnap, an unintentional yelp falling from your lips as his arms tightened around you, hands groping your ass and breast as if hoping you wouldn’t notice while your life flashed in front of your eyes. “Fuck, I gotcha, sug- Jesus, Sam, you drive like you shoot!”

“This,” Sam hummed as he wrenched the wheel to make his turn in time, Sapnap’s hand snapping to the back of your head as you were sent into the door, “is why we wear our seatbelts.”

Something about his smug voice tripped something in you. You knew the request was perfectly reasonable, but that didn’t stop the little voice in your head from screaming that he can’t tell you what to do. You wanted to do anything that would piss him off, to make that calm, collected exterior crack. You wanted to know that you affected him.

You slammed your lips over Sapnap’s.

He gave a grunt of surprise against you, lips curling into a grin as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, tasting that sweet mint and strawberry pairing that you loved hanging on his tongue. You felt his hand protecting your head slide down to the back of your neck, holding you gently in place to curl his tongue around yours, pushing into your mouth as he fought you to take control.

Your heart raced as Sam took another sharp turn, bouncing in Sapnap’s lap as the paved road turned to gravel, but by the way he ground up against you, he didn’t mind the rough ride. His teeth sank into your bottom lip as he pulled away, chuckling as he brought you with him a few inches before letting go. “I think sugar likes a little danger,” he purred, pulling your head back to trail his lips over your neck. “You like the adrenaline, bunny?”

You gasped as his lips latched onto your pulse, feeling with his tongue the way your heart thudded. “Keep calling me that,” you pushed out, “and you’ll be in danger.”

He hummed against the tender skin, nipping gently as he pulled away. “You really mean that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t. It made you feel small and sexy. Maybe you were a puck bunny, but you were the puck bunny. The one who only needed to show up to get three brutes, usually eager to maim each other for the fun of it, all cooperating and falling over each other for the chance to take care of you- not just fuck you, but treat you to good food and ask about your day, too. But the day you give up your bratty streak and let these bucket heads have their way without a fight is the day you die. “Maybe,” you said instead. You cupped his scruffy cheek and scratched a single nail along his jaw, guiding his lips back to yours. “You wanna peek under my skirt and see for yourself?”

Sam’s hand landed on your ankle, shoving your leg up, knee pressed into your chest, skirt falling into a pile around your waist with a gasp from your pretty pink lips. He didn’t even lift his foot from the gas as he fixed his eyes on your core, letting out a low whistle. You picked a good day to wear your lace. “It’s a damn shame you soaked through such a pretty pair of panties, sugar. You gonna let me keep these ones?”

You scoffed, wiggling your foot on his lap until you found his cock straining against the front of his sweats. “You’ve hardly done anything to deserve it.”

He clutched his heart with a dramatic groan that made you giggle as Sapnap nosed the soft skin in front of your ear. “Aw, come on now, bunny, there’s no need to be so mean to him. He’s the one who offered up his truck for date night, after all.” He crooked his finger under your chin, lips pulling into a dazed smile as he got your full attention back. “Tell you what, sug’,” he whispered, as if sharing a tender secret, breath fanning across your lips. “If you can use that smart mouth on Sam instead of just terrorizing him, I promise to make you come on my fingers before we even get there. Whaddya say to that, hm?”

You leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. “Bet’cha another bag of candy I make him come before you make me.”

A laugh burst from his lips against yours, hand coming down on your ass with a slap as you shifted your position. “Bunny’s cocky, Sam. You better not cream your pants and let her win.”

“You mean like you did from a little pussy in your face?”

“You’re just jealous she won’t sit on you.”

“Damn right I am, I’d pay to have that ass on me twenty-four, seven.”

You got comfortable on your hands and knees across the bench seat, Sam’s hand nestling into your hair while both Sap’s rubbed your hips. “Would’ja settle for my mouth,” you asked with a small smirk as his bulge jumped at the mere mention, fingers playing with his waistband.

“Fuck, bunny, I’d settle for a black and white picture if it was you,” he groaned, foot hitting the floor as you palmed his cock, engine roaring under the hood like a lion as he zipped through back roads. “Careful there, sugar,” he warned, but still lifted his hips for you as you tugged at his sweats. “Get distracting me too much, and we’ll end up in a ditch.”

A smirk pulled at your lips as you revealed he wasn’t even wearing underwear, cock springing out the second you got his sweats down to his knees. “You’re telling me this beast can’t even climb out of a ditch.”

He chuckled, cutting off with a low hiss as you wrapped your hand around him. “Oh, my baby can get us anywhere, but if we go off the road, we’re staying there until that smart mouth gets fucked out of you.”

“I’m doing my best,” Sapnap chirped, grin thick in his voice as he rubbed two fingers over your clothed clit just to watch your hips twitch, trying to follow as he pulled away. “Go on, bunny- I’m a fair man, I start when you do.”

“Not my fault,” you hissed, rubbing over Sam’s fat tip, collecting his precum on your thumb to spread over his head. “I can’t exactly unhinge my jaw.”

Sam let a breathy laugh fall from his lips, dull nails scratching softly at your scalp. “Don’t listen to him, sugar, that feels real good. You keep takin’ care of me like that, and I’ll make up for Sappy neglecting your sweet pussy, alright?”

“Neglecting?” You let a small laugh fall out of your lips at the pure horror in Sapnap’s tone, thumbs rubbing circles just above the crease where your ass met your thighs. “How come I’m the one tryna get my fingers in her guts, but you’re turning her against me?”

“Listen to him whine- what a baby, huh, sug’?”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t shut him up I will, and I don’t wanna get blood on your pretty face.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d like to see you fucking-” You took Sam’s blushing red tip into your mouth and licked up the single pearly drop clinging to his slit, putting more of your weight on the hand on his knee as it tried to jerk up. “Fuck, fuck- ‘m sorry, bun, I- fuck, her mouth’s so hot.”

A startled breath came out of your nose as Sapnap pulled your panties to one side with his thumb, broad hand gripping your ass hard to keep the fabric in place as the pad of his finger found your clit again. “Isn’t it fun to make him eat his words,” he purred, drawing soft circles on your bud. “And see how nice you get treated when you stop being a little brat?” He pressed hard against you, pulling a moan from your throat that vibrated all the way down Sam’s cock, making his hips twitch in his seat. “Yeah, we’re gon’ take care of you so good you won’t need to brat. Ain’t that right, Sammy?”

“Sapnap, I’m about to crash this damn truck if I have to focus on anything else-” his voice cracked, turning into a deep growl as you sucked your cheeks in and sank further down on him, starting a gentle bob of your head just to hear him moan into the hot air- just to feel those thick fingers in your hair scratch at your scalp. “If you running that fucking mouth distracts me from coming down bunny’s tight throat, I’ll leave your ass in a ditch.”

There was a truly obscene wet sound as you pulled off Sam’s thick cock, hand moving in lazy strokes as you pressed your lips to the little bit of tummy peeking out from his ridden-up shirt. “Sammy,” you hummed, grinning against his skin as another moan tumbled from his lips. “If you kill him before I come, I’ll make you wear a condom if you so much as hold my hand.”

Sam’s groan made his stomach rumble under your lips as Sapnap laughed victoriously, popping his fingers in his mouth before they returned to your cunt, the middle one diving past your folds like a reward. “You tell him, sugar! See, bunny likes my mouth.”

Your fingers rubbed up Sam’s side, revealing more and more skin for you to kiss up. He had such a perfect body, his strong abs hiding under just a bit of pudge that made him perfect for holding, giving just the slightest resistance as you pressed your lips hard against him. “I’d like it a hell of a lot more-” you nipped a light mark into Sam’s soft skin “-if it was on me.”

Sapnap’s scoff barely reached your ears as you decided your jaw had recovered enough to sink back down over Sam’s thick cock, letting it reach as deep in your throat as you could manage with strained breaths. He stretched your throat like it was made for him, made to be just tight enough to make curses spill from his pretty lips and make him drive fast enough to make your walls clench down on Sapnap’s finger as it found the perfect spot inside you to rub at.

Sam’s seatbelt snapped open the same second he slammed on the brakes, Sapnap’s grip on your ass tightening to keep you in place so he could push a second finger inside you. You heard the click of the gearshift just before Sam’s other hand threaded into your hair, pulling you off him. “Deep breaths, okay, bunny?” The words came out rushed and with a sigh as he shifted in his seat until he was facing you. God, he looked so pretty. He didn’t bother to pull his shirt back down, letting his flushed cock leak against his bare stomach as he leaned back against the door, gently pulling you closer until he could lay his lips over yours. He didn’t let it get too deep, tongue just grazing your lip as he forced himself off you, one hand leaving your hair to wrap around the base of his cock with a groan. “You hit me if you want me to stop, alright, bunny? Hit me real hard wherever you can reach to make sure I notice- you won’t hurt me. Promise me, bun.”

You both knew it was more like ‘can’t hurt me’ but you nodded anyway, turning your head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I promise to hit you if I suddenly lose my mind and decide I don’t want you to fuck my throat.” His stern expression broke as he huffed out a laugh, petting your hair with a soft ‘good girl’ falling from his lips as he guided you to his cock. You did as you were told, taking deep breaths as you let him control your movements, despite how much you wanted to take him to the hilt and let him fill your stomach. Instead, he took your mouth slowly and gently, pulling you back and forth along just the first half as he studied your face. You clenched down on Sapnap’s fingers as you caught sight of his expression- he was looking at you, spit-soaked lips and gnarled hair, like pure art. A deep sigh escaped his lips and his hand left his cock to join the other in your hair, cupping your head gently as you relaxed your throat as much as you could and gripped his hips.

The first thrust into your throat made you choke.

The second one knocked all those careful breaths out of your lungs.

You weren’t embarrassed to say the third one made your eyes roll back as you went limp in his hold.

“Aw, hell,” Sapnap hissed as your legs started to fail, pulling his fingers out of you to grip your other hip. “We good,” he reported, lifting you completely off the seat and up to his mouth, sealing his lips over yours without a missed beat. Your moan pulled one from Sam and spurred his hips faster, Sapnap’s lips curling into a smug grin against you as he ate you as eagerly as he did before- as if this was all he needed to be not just content, but ecstatic.

Your hands on Sam’s hips wandered- up his sides and over his stomach, flexed tight as he chased his high, thick muscle on full display as he fucked your throat open, making a home for his cock in it. You’d love that, you decided. You imagined Sam laying in bed after a hard practice, fat cock nestled in your throat casually as he watched tapes of the old games to prepare. You knew he’d take such good care of you- that was just the kind of sweetheart he was. He’d never let you go hungry or thirsty, always keeping snacks and water on hand for you. He’d treat his cock sleeve like a princess.

Sapnap’s tongue curled inside you just as Sam’s hips started to stutter, almost as if both were trying to carve you open to better suit their needs- only difference being Sap’s need was to make you the last thing he ever tastes and Sam’s was to paint your throat white. You did your very best to relax your throat, to become a willing cum slut for your handsome defense man to use. Your hips rocked against Sapnap’s mouth almost absent-mindedly, more focused on Sam’s pleasure than your own- though, if you weren’t so committed to dying before you stroked their egos, you would admit the possibility of coming from sucking him off was bigger than his double-d pecs.

“I’m gonna come down your throat, bunny,” fell from his lips with a strained breath as one arm snapped to grip the steering column for leverage to lift his hips completely off the seat, fucking his cock along your tongue like he couldn’t get deep enough, no matter how many times he buried your nose in his happy trail. “Fuck, you take dick like a champ, baby. Look like such a little pillow princess, but you give head like a perfect whore. Bet you’d be so happy to stay in my truck forever, huh? Get your pretty cunt ate out while you suck me off every day?” You couldn’t nod around his cock, but Sapnap’s moan as you clenched on his tongue said it all and made Sam grin wide. “Yeah,” he hummed, thrusts turning slower but harder as the hand in your hair caressed your scalp. “We’d be so fuckin’ good to you.”

The promise shot straight to your clit like lightning and spurred you to sink your nails into Sam’s hips to draw him down your throat until your nose was smothered against him, spasming around his cock as your gag reflex protested. His head thunked back against the window, tip battering your throat as his hips jerked against your face. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Put ‘er down, Sap, give ‘er some room.”

A handful of curses were mumbled against your pussy lips, but he obliged, broad hand rubbing up and down your back as he laid you across his lap. “I gotcha, sweet girl, deep breaths for me, alright?”

“I’d like to see you breathe with this monster down your throat,” you thought spitefully, but it died as a husky moan spilled from Sam’s lips, cock jumping in your throat as his orgasm came down on him like a crashing wave. His hand went limp in your hair, nothing more than a soft, sweet caress, not wanting to force you to take more than you wanted. So sweet, always worrying for nothing: your hold on his hips kept him pressed deep inside your mouth, throat pulsing around him as you struggled to swallow mouthful after mouthful of sweet cum, taking as much as he’d give you.

“Fuck, bunny,” he wheezed, voice hoarse as he gently pulled you off his spent cock. You whined as his tip leaked against his stomach, twitching as his own body insisted on giving you more to drink, but it was quickly cut short as you had to snap your lips shut to avoid a mouthful of thick cum falling from them. “Shit,” Sam hissed, already fumbling for the window button, “you wanna spit, sug’?”

Your brat came back. How fucking dare he? Spitters are quitters. Did you suck dick like some common whore who needed to spit after? I don’t think so.

You inhaled deep through your nose and swallowed the entire load in one go, letting your white-streaked tongue loll out as proof. A soft ‘oh, hell’ slipped as he brought your lips to his, inviting your tongue in to tangle with his, licking your mouth clean of him. He groaned when you pulled back, but the hand in your hair didn’t impede your movement as you leaned close, taking his earlobe between your teeth for just a moment.

“Never fucking doubt me again.”

“Never fucking again,” he mumbled out, chasing your lips. “Does that mean you wanna take care of Sap before Punzy finds us?”

Your hand reached back on its own, Sapnap’s fingers finding yours and lips pressing against your palm. His beard scratched gently at the surrounding skin, leaving a trail as he crawled up your body, lips caressing until he was hovered over you and they found your neck. His hips pressed against yours and a gasp fell from your throat like it was pulled.

“God, why are all three of you built like fucking bulls?”

Their chests rumbled against you, a subtle reminder that two broad Texan country boys who loved to throw down their gloves had you trapped between them. It made you feel small, something you didn’t get to experience often. They could easily throw you around, bend you this way and that however they wanted for their own pleasure.

Then Sam’s lips caressed your cheek and Sapnap’s calloused hands kneaded your soft hips. “Made for your pleasure, sweet thing,” Sap murmured against your neck, finding the tender spot behind your ear. He didn’t nip or even suck, just kissed the skin softly: a reminder how soft these boys were on you. They’ve shown more tender care for you in a week of texts and two ‘dates’ than your ex did in almost a year. They would easily throw you around, but they’d do it with a hand protecting your head and soft kisses pressed wherever they could reach. They’d fold you into any position they wanted until you gave the slightest sign of discomfort and they’d pull back without a breath of hesitation.

“Flip me,” you muttered out when your own muscles refused to obey, letting out a soft purr as four broad hands scattered across your body, gently lifting and turning you to lay you back against Sam’s firm chest. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you watched Sapnap get lost in your body, fingers brushing up your waist to reveal the soft skin of your stomach as your shirt got pushed up, trailing touches along the bottom of your bra. “Hey,”

He grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. “Hey, sugar. Can I get your bra off for ya?” You gave a hum against him and his fingers walked around the band until he found the clasp. He pulled you up just a bit, just enough to press you more against him than Sam, and fumbled with the hooks for a moment- just long enough for you to start grinning against his lips and for him to curse against yours. You wrapped an arm around his neck to hold you up and reached the other back, flicking the hooks apart. “Fuckin’ witchcraft,” he huffed, but helped you pull it out of your shirt anyways.

Sapnap turned the lace over in his hands as if contemplating before reaching over your head.

“There ya go, buddy,” he chirped with a grin as he draped it over Sam’s head. “Add that to your fuckin’ spank bank.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” Sam tossed back as his hands rubbed down your hips, grabbing two thick handfuls of your thighs and pulling them apart. You bit your lip to hold back a moan as your lacy panties pulled tight against your clit. “Get to work or I’ll fuck her myself and leave you to cream your pants again.”

Sap rolled his eyes, leaning down to bunny kiss you. “He’s so dramatic,” he whispered in your ear, just to hear the breathy giggle you gave as his lips skimmed your cheek. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t’cha bunny?” His lips curled into a grin as you nodded, stretching your neck to try and sneak a kiss from him. Thick fingers pulled aside your panties to run his thumb over the seam of your folds, spreading your slick. “Oh, you’re just a sweet thing for me, huh?” He shoved his shorts down his thighs as he asked, grin stretched wider than his face at the weak noise the sight pulled from you.

Punz was packing. You were going to feel Sam in your throat for weeks. Sapnap was smuggling a monster. You were absolutely positive being fucked by a literal bull would be easier. You were expecting something big, of course- you’d even predicted the girth-to-length correctly based on his height and build. You weren’t expecting his long fingers to barely wrap around the base or for the tip to nearly reach his knees.

“It’s always the fucking shy ones.”

“If you want to kill me, just run me over,” you wheezed. The muscles in your neck gave out, seemingly accepting your approaching end, and your head thudded back against Sam’s sternum, but you still watched down your nose as Sapnap stroked himself- god help you, it got bigger.

“You can tap out, sugar,” he promised, even as his thumb swiped over the leaking head. “I’d be more than happy to jerk off with you on my face again.”

“Absolutely not. I just need a safe word.”

That got their attention- and concern. Sam let your thighs fall together and Sap let go of his cock, letting it bob against his stomach as he leaned over you.

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

“What do you need, bun?”

“You know this doesn’t go anywhere you don’t want, right?”

A huff of laughter spilled from your lips as you reached up to cup Sapnap’s cheek. “You’re both big softies,” you cooed, trying to shoo away his worried gaze with a few soft kisses across his cheekbones. “I need a safe word because I know myself too well. I don’t wanna stroke your ego, but you’re fucking huge, Sappy.” He perked up, worry falling away to pure adoration as his hockey name fell from your lips. You rubbed your other hand down his body until you could curl your fingers around his shaft, a grin curling on your face at the soft whimper you pulled from him. “I know I’m going to scream, and cry, and brat my fool head off, even though I want nothing more right now than to die from some monster dick.” You grazed your lips over his. “So we’re going to establish a safe word, and unless I use it, you’re going to fuck my brains out. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” slipped out without hesitation and you couldn’t admit what it did to you. “Fuck, yes, please. Uh- pineapple?”

You gave him a firm but short kiss. “Perfect. Safe word is pineapple. Sam, if someone calls and we don’t notice-”

“Yank you apart and give the offender a good hit- on it.” He pulled your thighs up again, helping Sapnap hook your calves over his hips. His lips pressed gently against the crown of your head. “I gotcha, baby,” he promised softly, making your heart squeeze as you knew he didn’t just mean that he was holding you.

Sapnap’s thick fingers wrapped around the grab handle on the roof to keep his weight off you as he scooched close enough to press his fat tip against you. He parted your folds around him and laid his cock between them, grinding the wet tip against your clit as he passed. “Fuck, sugar,” he sighed in time with your moan as he sized you up. “It’s gonna be fuckin’ tight.”

You knew that was a not-so-subtle offer to back out, to make sure you knew what you were in for.

“Promise?”

He looked like you just gave him the world. Based on the way he practically worships your cunt, you may as well have.

He pressed against your entrance hard, using one hand to try to ease his way inside without just shoving himself into your pussy. When he finally managed the head inside, it pushed a whiny moan out of you as just the tip spread your entrance more than his fingers could ever hope.

“Sapnap,” you rasped out, watching your voice send a shiver down his spine and snap his eyes shut, desperate not to get ahead of himself. He was being smart: taking things nice and slow to make absolutely sure you felt more pleasure than pain. You reached out and raked your nails down his tensed abs. “Take me,”

His hips snapped without a thought as his body took your command as law, suddenly filling you with a good four inches that spread your walls to their limit. His tip leaked precum inside you as if even his cock knew you needed lube and was eager to supply. The hot, sticky feeling as it seeped into you just made you all the more eager to get filled with cum.

Another sharp thrust got him halfway in.

The third slammed your cervix like a truck.

“Oh, hell,” you wheezed, letting yourself fall limp in Sam’s secure hold. Your hips rocked against Sapnap’s, desperate to fit that last bit of him inside you, despite what your body said. “I want it, Sappy, please. Don’t stop.”

Another curse fell from his lips as his cock jerked inside of you, desperate to obey. “Careful, sug’,” he grit out, plastic creaking under his grip as he tried to resist. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You stretched your neck, brushing your lips along his jaw.

“Hurt me.”

It hurt like hell when he slammed your cervix with intent, but you would’ve walked on hot coals to have him buried in your guts. One of Sam’s hands left your thigh to trace light shapes over your clit- whether to get your body to relax or to soothe the pain, you didn’t know, you just knew it was working. Your walls shook as you came, begging Sapnap deeper until finally your cervix gave in.

The coarse hair above his cock pressed against your clit after Sam yanked his hand away, giving a perfect sensation as Sapnap ground his hips against yours as if making sure he’d really given you every inch. “Oh hell- fuck me, sugar- bunny.” His stuttered praises created a new nickname that spread a fuzzy feeling all the way through your stomach and into your chest. Your cunt made your approval known as it tried to suck him in deeper, begging him to fill every empty space inside you and pulling a deep groan all the way from the depths of his stomach. “You like that? You my sweet sugar-bunny? Fuck, your pussy wants me, sug’. Haven’t even started fuckin’ you and it’s tryna milk me. You really want me to come inside you that bad?”

So badly you wanted to cry, yes you did. You’ve never wanted to be filled before these boys, but something about them made you want to be straight-up bred. You wanted them to take turns fucking you full of their cum just to keep your cunt warm and wet and full.

“Please, Sap,” you managed, feeling the way your strained voice made his cock jump inside you. “Want you to fill me up ‘til your cum is leaking out of me for days.”

Evidently, that was the final reassurance your sweet Texas gentleman needed to leave the building. In his place was the broad enforcer who barreled through people like they were nothing but snowflakes in the wind. Without another second Sapnap was jackhammering into you with the same force he used to lay out opponents, that thick cock head never leaving your womb as he speared you open. You only knew you were screaming when your throat began to hurt, unable to hear anything over the blood rushing through your ears as his cock hit every nerve in your pussy, thick shaft rubbing against your g-spot from how stretched you were around him.

Sam let your legs snap closed around Sapnap’s hips so he could cup your tits in either hand, fingers lazily strumming your nipples as if he knew you only needed the slightest touch to bring you over the edge again. Soft praises filled the cab as you came on Sapnap’s cock, Sam’s lips pressing hard on your temple, knowing you’d need something to ground you as you floated. Sapnap didn’t- couldn’t help as he got lost in the heavenly feeling of your pussy gushing around him, the sound of his thrusts becoming so much wetter as he pounded right through your orgasm.

“Remember your safe word, bun,” Sam murmured against you. “We just lost Sappy.”

Sapnap fucked you like a machine, hips pounding an even, fast pace against yours, as if all your orgasm did was energize him. His cock rocked into you like it was his mission to fuck you open. Like he needed to make sure he left you so stretched out that you could only come to him to satisfy you. He was a man completely committed, and his only goal was to fuck your literal brains out and fill you with his cum.

“Beautiful.” The word escaped his lips as part growl and part prayer as he traced the shape of your jaw. He sucked the skin into his mouth just enough to leave a light mark- so tender and gentle with you, completely opposite to the way he abused your cunt. “Fuck, I love when you come for me, sugar. Get this gorgeous look on your face. Look like an absolute goddess, baby.”

You wanted to tell him how much you loved the things he said, how much they filled you with a warmth that pure sex didn’t. You wanted to tell him that he was the picture of a Greek Adonis: stretched out above you with the muscles in his thick arms bulging from the effort of keeping his weight off of you, shaggy brown locks hung over his melted chocolate eyes and that scruffy beard that made you want to trace your fingers down his jaw. You wanted to say it all, but none of it came from your lips.

“Fuck, fuck,” spilled out instead as he fucked you straight through your sensitivity and into a pleasure-induced partial numbness. “Fuck, can’t- I can’t! God, fuck me!”

“God, you really do run your mouth.” Sam’s tone was absolutely reverential, despite the breathless chuckle that came with his words. His fingers traveled all over your torso, rubbing tender shapes into your hips, breasts, and every stretch of skin in between. His lips caressed your cheek, a soft touch among the debauchery of a threesome in a pickup parked in a field. “What’s your safe word, bunny?”

“Pine- fuck! It’s pineapple! That’s not calling it! If you fucking stop, Sapnap, I’ll cut your dick off!”

Sapnap’s lips curled into a smile against you as he eagerly obeyed, hips not so much as stuttering against yours as he kept up his animalistic pace. “She wasn’t kidding: bunny gets bratty after her second, Sam.”

“Duly noted,” was muttered into the hot air, thick fingers crooking under your chin to guide you to his lips. “I think,” Sam mused against your soft lips as he kissed his way into your mouth, “another two would make her a good girl again.”

“Or make her pass out.”

Sam shrugged as he pulled back to let you pant against him, teeth teasing the swollen red skin of your bottom lip. “Either way.”

Your breath hitched as Sapnap’s thick fingers wrapped completely around your ankle and started testing how he could arrange you. He tried to put it over his shoulder first, but when he was blanketed over you so tightly, your hips just couldn’t do it. “I gotcha, sug’,” he promised when you winced, immediately changing tactics. He hooked your knee over his elbow, then wrapped his arm over the steering column. “There you go, just opening you up a bit, that’s all.”

Fuck, you’d never had to be spread open so much just to take a guy. It occurred to you that you still hadn’t. You took Sap just fine- your walls were like a vice around him, the slightest stinging stretch still remaining- but you were taking it in stride. Not that Sapnap’s hammering left any room to do anything but. Still, he tried to take care of you, tried to ease his rough battering on your insides into something easier to walk with tomorrow. Even when he had you spread across the front seat, bruising your folds, he was still so sweet.

He straightened up and yanked the bottom of his shirt between his teeth, eyes as dark as warm molasses trained on where your cunt swallowed him. His cock dragged against your walls as he pulled his hips back, hand snapping back to the grab handle as soon as his shirt was out of the way: he needed to see you. Needed to see the pretty pink lips that wrapped around his cock so well.

Not leaning over you gave him leverage. Now when his hips drove into yours, cock diving deep inside you, he did it faster and harder than he could before. Now when he thrust into you, he pressed his balls tight against your ass, practically begging to empty them into your tight heat.

Scratch what you said before: not sweet. Your legs were just preventing him from absolutely destroying your pussy.

“Y’killing me,”

Sam chuckled, but Sapnap didn’t falter- didn’t even look up from where your cum had soaked the dark hairs at the base of his cock. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” Sam promised. His fingers threaded with yours, bringing your joined hands to rest on the swell of your stomach. You’d swear you could feel Sapnap’s thick cock pressing back- thought that if you were any thinner, you would see the column where he pushed your body aside to make room for himself. “You’re doing so good- such a perfect little bunny,” Sam praised against your cheek as he slathered it in soft caresses of his lips. “Like you were made for us.”

A short laugh fell from his lips before he choked on it. It came back, though, and just as you worried what could possibly make anyone laugh with their cock out and their friend spreading you in half, he let the thought fly.

“Made sharing size.”

Your head fell back into the cradle of his collarbone and a short, breathless laugh spilled from your lips. “I hate you,” you managed, but it caught in your throat as Sapnap fucked you like he hadn’t heard a word. “Fuck, hate you, too, Goliath!”

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Sam muttered, caressing your tit in his free hand- didn’t grope it, didn’t play with your nipple. He held it like a precious gem- pet over the skin like it was the softest he’d ever felt. Sapnap growled out something around his shirt, but even if you could understand it, you weren’t certain it was anything coherent. “Sappy’s a little obsessed with you, bun. Now that he’s got a turn with your pussy, he’s not thinkin’ ‘bout nothing but fucking you open and filling you.”

Well, fuck, now that was all you could think about, either. You’d never admit to these boys how much you fantasized about letting them fill you up whenever they wanted. How many nights since your impromptu rendezvous were spent with your fingers in your cunt, mourning the lack of a thick cock to satisfy you. The lack of a strong, warm body holding you from behind, feeding himself into your needy pussy just to be closer while you slept.

You could never tell them. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind they’d comply to every increasingly perverted thought, and you quite enjoyed your ability to walk- and think- straight. Both of which were quickly melting away as Sapnap carved out a permanent home for himself deep in your guts.

He fell forward when you came around him, gummy walls sucking his cock deeper as he mouthed at the column of your neck. Your arms snapped around his head as his hips resorted to rolling against yours, nails carving into his scalp through shaggy hair as the coarse hair at his base scraped against your clit. “S’fuckin’ good, sugar,” he groaned against the pulsing vein in your neck. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. Fuck, ‘m gonna fill this sweet pussy with my cum. Stuff you so fuckin’ full-” He choked as you rolled your hips in time with his, falling to his forearms braced on the driver’s window.

“Promises,” you panted out with a smile, “promises,”

Curses spilled from his lips like he couldn’t control himself, chest hair rubbing against your raw nipples where his shirt was still bunched up, sending you dangerously closer to overstimulation, but nowhere near calling your safe word. “She’s so sweet,” he muttered under his breath, as if it was a realization he hadn't meant to share.

“Just the sweetest, ain’t she,” Sam hummed back anyway, lips pressed tenderly against your temple. “She don’t even know how gorgeous she is- else she wouldn’t let a couple bucket heads split her open.”

“Maybe we’re special.” The words were barely breathed into your neck, a shy question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

You pulled hard on his soft hair, yanking his lips up to yours. He still tasted like your cunt, but his strawberry chapstick peaked through, just like you were learning it always did. When you let him pull back, it was only enough for your breath to wash over each other's sore lips. “So special,” you promised, and you meant it. You might have a major thing for jocks with anger issues, but you sure as hell didn’t let them all raw you. In a truck. At the same time. But then again, they didn’t all drive an hour to pick you up for a spur of the moment date after a week of blowing up your phone.

“You’re more special,” spilled from his lips into yours without a thought, pressing closer and closer until there wasn’t an inch of your body not touching them. “Want you to come with me, sugar. Please? Wanna make you come one more time.” You were nodding from the first word, finally driving your tongue past his lips to make him shut up because god, you wouldn’t be able to wait for him if he kept talking.

Sam’s broad, calloused hands rubbed over your bare stomach, a soft, “y’two look so cute together,” pulling a whine from deep in your chest. He held you tight as Sapnap’s hips bucked into yours, throwing you over the edge one more time as your pussy milked him for his cum, begging for it to fill you up. “Atta girl, letting Sappy come. So good for us,” he cooed, giving you a squeeze while you were still a million miles away, his voice foggy and distant. You didn’t know how long it took you to come back down to Earth, but Sapnap’s cock was still leaking into your used hole when you did, his nose buried where your neck met your shoulder, nuzzling into the skin as if he was going to fall asleep. Honestly, you had half a mind to join him.

The cold air hit first. Then Sapnap hit your chest and knocked every painfully reclaimed breath back out of your lungs as all three of you fell like a set of dominoes without the driver’s door propping you up.

“This is the fucking thanks I get for buying the pizza?” The sudden bright light of the overhead impeded your view, but after a few frantic blinks, you could make out an upside-down Punz glaring at you. No, not you: only the guys. Pretty privileges. Awesome. “Sam, put your dick away.”

“Cock looker,” Sam called with a flip of the bird, but yanked his boxers back into place anyway. “We’re not neglecting our girl just because you’re late to the party. Right, Sap?” Sapnap let out a sound against your neck that was either, ‘fuck you,’ or ‘puck boo.’ Toss of the coin, really. Either way, Punz reached over and smacked the back of his head.

“Get off her so I can take my bunny.”

A shrill yelp escaped you as Sapnap suddenly came back to life, fingers sinking into your love handles to hold you steady as he shot up. You moaned as the new position had you basically sitting on his lap, cock head spearing something deep inside you that’s never been reached before, but if he noticed he didn’t show it. “You can’t take her!” The decree was paired with him falling back on the passenger’s door, sending you crashing into his firm chest. “She’s mine now,” he decided with a kiss to your crown. After a moment of contemplation, you decided that you were pretty cool with any result from this conversation and settled in. “You decided to be a bitch and not show. Too bad, so sad- oh, fuck!”

Another panicked noise left your lips as Sapnap fell, his entire torso dangling out of the truck with Sam’s frantic grab of his ankles the only thing keeping him from tumbling out onto the grass with you still attached. After a beat to confirm you weren’t about to crack your head open and be found naked and full of cum, you braced yourself on Sapnap’s chest and pushed yourself up.

Punz grinned like he hadn’t just tried to murder his right wing. “Hey, bunny,” he purred, opening his arms for you. “‘M sorry I didn’t come to pick you up. You wanna have a cuddle while Tweedledee and Tweedledipshit pull the truck the right way around?”

“I’m sorry my parking skills aren’t on point when I’m balls deep, god!”

“He’s not sorry,” you pretended to whisper, stern facade breaking into a grin when Sapnap snorted out a laugh under you. You rubbed a flat palm across his chest, feeling it rumble as he practically purred at the feeling. “You ready to let me go, Sappy? Or you need a snuggle?”

You could watch in his eyes like a movie as he slowly thought through your question and realized what you were really asking. He leaned up to press a peck against the corner of your mouth before flopping back down across the seat with a soft pat to your waist. “I’m good,” he promised with one of those lazy grins you were starting to crave. “Make sure to save some for me, though, yeah?”

“Oh, of course: everyone gets their cuddle rations,” you agreed, choosing to ignore Sam’s snort of, “rations- like we’re in the cuddle war.” You reached for Punz and tried to make yourself as cute as possible with a soft pout. “I can’t stand, you’ll have to carry me.”

“I think I can live with that,” he decided, pulling you off Sapnap and into his arms with a small noise of sympathy as the drag against your sensitive cunt made you ache. “I know, poor bunny,” he gushed, pulling down your shirt for you. “Alright, fuckers, turn the truck around so we can actually watch the movie!”

“I’d forgotten about the movie,” you mused, legs wrapped around Punz’s waist hesitantly. “I’m leaking on your shirt.”

“It’s seen worse.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Ew,”

“I don’t think you get to talk shit after a Texas Eiffel Tower.”

“... alright, fair,” you decided, settling into his chest. His hands on your hips hoisted you up his body easily, letting you relax and trust him to arrange you however it was easiest to hold. “So what brought on this surprise date? I mean, I’m obviously not complaining, but you three seem to have a TMI issue when we text, so why didn’t any of you tell me?”

For what might’ve been the first time in his life, Punz’s mouth stayed shut. Call the fuckin’ presses. You pushed down your instinct to say something snarky (or maybe just bratty) and pulled your chin out of his shoulder to look at him properly. And oh what a pretty pink he was.

He finally caved to your unintentional puppy eyes, stubbornly looking away. “We were kinda worried you’d say no… and we thought it’d be better to hear it in person than over text.”

The truck doors clanked open then shut again, and the two were now pulling the tarp off the bed, but your eyes were stuck on Punz. “You all drove an hour and bought pizza… while thinking I might not agree?”

“... Look, I never claimed we were smart-”

“That is the sweetest thing a guy’s ever done for me,” gushed out of you before you could think of the ramifications of admitting that. You slammed your lips over his in an effort to keep him from thinking too hard on it, kissing your way into his mouth. “You guys,” you breathed between kisses as you started peppering them all across his face, “are the absolute-” mwah mwah mwah, “best ever! Gotta be careful-” mwah, “if you ever wanna get rid of me-”

“Never,” he declared without hesitation, chasing after your lips. “Today was your chance to tell us to get lost. You get another in eleven to twelve business days.”

“Oh? Which days are business days?”

“Every third Groundhog’s Day.”

Giggles burst from your lips just as another set of hands snatched your waist. “What are you two talking about over here,” Sam hummed against your ear. You could feel his lips curl into a grin as his fingers ran light circles over your sensitive skin, turning a slight laugh into an absolute fit. “Come here, you, let’s get you into the bed. Hup!” He lifted you out of Punz’s arms and right into Sapnap’s waiting ones from where he stood in the truck bed.

“Hey, sugar,” he sang. The truck rocked as all your boys clambered in, but Sap did his best to keep you steady as he laid you in an absolute nest of pillows they’d prepared. Couch cushions, bed pillows, and even a body pillow with a hockey player posing like a Playboy bunny. “There you go,” he muttered to himself, tucking into your side like he hadn’t just been stuck on you like superglue. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “You gonna let us feed you now?”

“How the hell do you come that hard and walk around like nothing?”

He blinked. “Why do you sound mad about it?”

“I am mad about it! You practically killed me, and now you’re carrying me!”

“Well, it’s not like you’re heavy.”

You gave a pointed look down at your thick thighs and thicker stomach. “Hon, I weigh like-”

“Mushrooms or no?” The truck suspension strained as Sam threw himself down next to you, two pizza boxes bouncing on his lap. “We’ll need you to eat at least one slice, since someone interrupted before we could do any other aftercare-”

“Oh, fuck off! You can fuckin’ Venmo me for the pizza if you keep bitching.”

“I paid for gas! Make Sapnap pitch in for once!”

“Excuse you,” Sapnap huffed, wrestling with a two-liter of coke, “I’m baby, bitch.”

You found yourself chuckling and shaking your head as they argued, blooming warmth filling your chest.

Contrasting with the wet cold between your thighs.

“Punz-” He stopped swiping at Sapnap to give you his full attention, and for a moment you thought you should be an adult. Tell him to find you something to clean yourself with, and tell Sam or Sapnap or whoever stole your panties to give them back. You should act like a mature woman who knows how to handle a two-night stand, but instead you find yourself pouting at him, knowing it would make him cave to anything you asked. “They left me empty and cold.”

Sam and Sap burst into protests.

“Left you?!”

“The audacity-”

“Oh, you poor little bunny,” Punz laughed, scooping you right up and taking your place. He squeezed you tight, dotting his lips across your neck to hear you giggle as his breath tickled the sensitive skin. “Bastards been neglecting you?”

Sapnap had produced a handful of shot glasses that he filled with soda and passed around. “Oh, yeah, she was real fuckin’ neglected when she was coming on my cock.”

“She needs all three of us to be happy,” Sam agreed, taking the shot. “Why did you bring shot glasses?”

“Why didn’t you bring alcohol?”

“Lift your hips for me, bunny,” Punz muttered, squeezing your waist. “I’ll pull down my shorts for you and we can have a nice warm cuddle while we watch the movie.”

You pushed up to your knees, hands from either side snapping to hold you steady. “You’re all such worry warts,” you laughed, accepting a shot of coke and passing it back for a refill.

“Oh, forgive us, sugar: we’re not eager to watch the gorgeous babe who puts up with all three of our dumb asses crack her head open.”

You felt Punz run his smooth tip through your folds, letting Sapnap’s cum slick up his shaft before he led you to ease your hips back. You managed to choke your moan as he spread you back open, biting your tongue until you were seated all the way back on his lap. “Fuck- I’m good, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

You sighed as the stretch quickly faded from being fucked open so recently, leaving only the blissful feeling of being perfectly filled. “I’m so good.” Sam offered you a slice and you took it, downing a testing nibble and then three big bites of melty cheese as you realized maybe their fuck-then-feed method held some water after all. “What are we watching?”

Sam presented a remote with a flourish, pointing it at the white sheet strung up in the treeline and pushing a button. “We are watching- fuck.” He flipped the remote around to point it at the projector on the roof of the cab. You weren’t sure how much of this was set up before or how much you were oblivious to while Punz coddled you, but either way something squeezed in your chest. “We’re watching Die Hard, because it’s a goddamn masterpiece.”

You nodded. “You got the second one for after?”

“Of course,”

“And the third?”

“You’re cute. Don’t push it.”

#angymouse #puckbunny #sapsqueaks #punnysqueaks #awesamsqueaks #minors dni #chubby reader #mcyt smut

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pondscummy · 29 days

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the "also sick" comment isn't like "btw I'm SICK, how dare you not know" it's me saying I'm sick like how 2/3 of my roommates are

but like I'm so;;;; it feels so rich that L is like wtf do you want from me about me not replying for 45 minutes when I had to beg his gf over hours and hours of texts every so often to not force me to sit in unwiped shit after my surgery bc she had openly told me she just didn't rly feel like setting up the attachable bidet after telling me for weeks she would, and I never ever got a reply from her or L ever acknowledging that they were wide awake hanging out and laughing while I was like stuck in bed barely able to move begging for follow through on a commitment they made in advance and i eventually had to spend over $100 to hire someone to come out the next day and do it for me and I had to hold my shit for hours lmfao

like L is sooooo great at couching things in flawless tumblr wellness speak but only to talk about how valid they are for not showing up for you and how fucked up it is that you MIGHT ever have a moment where you can't be 100% there w them. like idk what to tell you I've been laying in bed with a sore throat and cough and fever passing out and waking up to roll over in buckets of sweat like the rest of the house. I do genuinely get being annoyed by a lack of response but it's also right back to this whole thing about Always assuming I'm mad at them which is legit one of the only things that actually makes me mad fjdkddhk like bro I do not THINK about you when you're not acting like I'm a bomb about to blow (also, as an aside -- we all take turns buying TP and it's usually me who does it like it's not out of pocket for me to say hey you are the One person who is out of the house already rn, can you get this on your way bc None of the bathrooms have back up rolls and one is totally out and I had to text our sickest roommate telling her to use the bidet and drip dry like.... "am I the first person you asked" yes bc you are the person who makes the most sense dumbfuck. I'm not being "overly needy" toward you or whatever jfc)

they literally told me at one point that the reason they're so scared of me is that my face is "triggering" for them when I'm angry or not feeling good and puts them "back in a really bad place" they have seen my face angry literally 3 times and each time it was on my way back to my room to decompress and each time I said nothing to them other than that I was in a bad mood and I was going to go to my room. I didn't yell either I just said it normal. like I genuinely feel gaslit here like I'm this horrifying monster of a man when it's like dude sometimes people are mad I don't know what YOU want from ME!! I do all my venting here where they can't ever see it even tho we've blocked each other, I censor their name like anyone even knows who they are, I isolate to chill out and it's literally been less than a handful of times like should I fling myself from the roof??????? would that fix it???

I literally know it's bc I'm a man too. none of this was like this until my facial hair came in more and it got crazy worse after I got top surgery and they're so so vocal about how much they despise men and think men should all fuck off and die and there's only a handful of acceptable men that they've personally vetted. despite them pretty clearly having a trans woman fetish bc they only date or look at porn of trans women and they do the whole step on me mommy thing about it even tho their gf has complained like. lmfao you're just a baby te//rf even tho you ID as trans masc yourself. like that's all this even is. I'm a big (5'3") scary (spent the whole weekend w my coworkers asking if I was 12) man who's obviously going to snap and kill you all bc sometimes I *checks writing on hand* get frustrated and go lay down about it

#pond.txt #and again i'm not EVEN mad rn (well. obviously i am *now*) i was SLEEPING like fhekdjdkddjl bro let me live i'm SORRY #should i whip myself should i kiss your feet my lord and savior jc. should i fall upon my sword for you.#is my t dick too big and scary to live together does it cast shadows in the hallways that frighten you HDKSDHKDDHDK #all the time i wish wish wish there was some way for me to move out early without me fucking myself financially #but i'd be on the hook for $11.400 and i do NOT have that to drop dhskddhhfj and i would need to pay that PLUS buy a car #it was so night and day the difference in my mood when i was on my work trip tho. even when i had moments of like feeling down on that trip #it was so fleeting and so like. well I'll do what i need to so i can care for myself #whether that was staying in my room and getting some sleep or rallying and being like hey @ self you're making shit up about no one liking #with no proof so let's get back downstairs and hang out w someone new and prove ourselves wrong.#life felt so bright and happy and it was so easy to talk to strangers and laugh and just let loose and like myself #even on a 13 hr travel day i was like taking notes on mental health things in my journal and reflecting and feeling so positive about makin #changes like not letting excuses stop me from going out and living my life even in this interim period between moves #and then i got back home and was like oh right. this place that makes me miserable with people who openly dislike me. great lmao #my plan is still to try to not let myself get in my own way of living life bc if i can get out & meet people it'll keep me away from here.#ANYWAY!!! *eats cough drops like candy*

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pfenniged · 2 years

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Just so you know, I’ve been listening to the audiobook “Conversations with Major Dick Winters: Life Lessons from the Commander of the Band of Brothers,” and written by Dick Winters’ friend retired Colonel Cole Kingseed, and basically besides being a reflection on leadership skills, important people in Dick Winters’ life, and the follies of people attempting to profit off of people who would become important historical figures, it also has some piping hot tea about the series and the actual Lewis Nixon so hear me out.

So firstly, together with Damian Lewis’ 20th Anniversary podcast reflections last year, the book mirrors a lot of what Cole basically saw in the hiring of Damian Lewis to play Dick Winters.

So from what Damian Lewis said about the hiring process initially in the 20th anniversary podcast, when he entered the studios when he initially came from England, there was a guy who had just left who was a Canadian actor who looked EXACTLY like Dick Winters. As in, blonde hair, built like a brick shithouse, passably could pass as American, etc. Damian said himself on the podcast that he thought that was basically it for him, because he was very much a redhead, not built like a brick shithouse, and English.

What he politely left out of that entire story was the tea that fucking Cole Kingseed spilled which was that apparently after they had the final guys coming in to be cast to play Winters, Damian Lewis went out with Ron Livingston and partied till 4am in the morning.

What I’m loving about this is if we piece together both narratives, it’s basically Damian presuming he wasn’t going to get cast, going “fuck it” and deciding to go out with the boys anyhow, getting shitfaced drunk until 4am the next morning because he assumed he could just sleep it off and catch a flight back to England later that week, but no.

What ended up happening is Damian got back to the hotel at 4am, got a phone call three hours later at 7am, saying that Tom Hanks wanted to meet with him for 10am at the studio.

DAMIAN DRANK SIX CUPS OF COFFEE IN THE REMAINING THREE HOURS BEFORE MEETING UP WITH TOM HANKS AND GOT THE JOB.

The next tea that was spilled was about the real Lewis Nixon, and jfc I shouldn’t find this funny but I do.

So basically Dick Winters was telling Cole Kingseed that one of the reasons he didn’t commit himself to someone when he was in the war/overseas was because he noticed that men who were in love basically or had a wife and children basically fell apart quicker in battle, because they had something outside of themselves that they were worried about dying about and basically couldn’t effectively function as a soldier is supposed to.

Basically, Dick literally quoted Sherlock Holmes and was basically going on about having a “cold efficient brain” in battle.

DOESN’T THIS MOTHERFUCKER BRING UP THAT “THAT’S WHY LEWIS NIXON AND I GOT ALONG SO WELL EVEN THOUGH WE WERE TWO VASTLY DIFFERENT PEOPLE” BECAUSE BASICALLY LEW HAD A SHIT MARRIAGE AND HE SAW FIRSTHAND THAT “THERE WAS NO LOVE IN THAT HOUSE.”

NOW.

WHAT THIS PRESUMES IS THAT:

A) At some point before Lewis Nixon divorced his wife, Dick Winters was invited to his home.

B) He saw firsthand in his own polite way that Lew and his wife both fucking hated each other.

C) LEWIS NIXON HAD THE GALL TO ASK HIS TECHNICALLY COMMANDING OFFICER TO ACT AS A BUFFER FOR HIM AT AN AWKWARD DINNER HE PROBABLY HAD TO RETURN TO

D) LEWIS NIXON HATED HIS WIFE SO MUCH THAT BY INSINUATION HE DID NOT CARE IF HE LIVED OR DIED; AND

E) COULD YOU FUCKING IMAGINE THOSE CONVERSATIONS DICK WINTERS WAS FORCED INTO.

“... This is delicious salmon, thank you for inviting me to your lovely home.”

“SEE, LEWIS- DICK DOESN’T THINK MY SALMON’S TOO DRY.”

“He’s being polite. You’re the only dried-out thing around here, sweetheart-”

“OOPS WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME-”

“IT’S ONLY 6:40-”

“Well, the Pennsylvania Dutch turn into pumpkins around seven, sooooo-”

#I'm fucking dead #the more I find out about Lewis Nixon the more I fall a little bit more in love with him and its disconcerting lolol #also this post is ass long but I had a lot of feelings so deal with it #HBO War #Band of Brothers #history #Dick Winters #Lewis Nixon #the real easy company

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dearings · 2 years

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I just binged your MCR fics on AO3 and I literally feel like a junkie shaking for another hit. Like, I went back and refreshed your author page like four times nearly crying because I was so desperate for more. You are SO fucking talented, and the way you write f!Gee x Frank is nothing short of masterful. Their voices are so good, it’s like you’re channeling their fucking spirits or something. I am, respectfully, begging for more (especially the chickpea universe, jfc, like pleASE). And even if not, just know you’ll have me reading and rereading and rereading that shit until my eyeballs dry up and fall out of my head 🖤

omg anon i can't even begin to tell you how much i love this ask!!! 🥺 it's everything i hope to accomplish when i write fic, so thank you so so so much. especially with chickpea, i was kind of worried that no one really cared for the second chapter, so this does a lot to soothe that anxiety. as for as more in the chickpea verse, i've been turning over ideas about fisting and overstim so 👀 we'll see what comes of that. beyond that, i have a handful of ideas i really want to write out and i'm participating in the preternatural bandom challenge right now so! hopefully more fic out soon. and i might try to chat more about my wips/ideas here or on twitter too! thank you again, this seriously made my day (and made me want to go write more immediately lol) 💖💞💓💖💗❣️💞💖

#ask #anonymous #fic business #save #gotta make sure i can find this again whenever i feel down about my writing

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percontaion-points · 5 months

Text

Packless chapters 9 & 10

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 9

“You know how that first blood claw came into being, dud? Because an alpha female gave up everything to her mate. Every inch of her power. She reduced herself to little more than an omega, all to help her mate, and to save her pack.”

I would complain about how weirdly sexist this is, but like… This story started off with a room full of females being forced onto their knees by males. So I don’t know what I’m expecting at this point.

When I felt dozens of strange eyes settle on my boobs, I waded into the pool. I wasn’t going bare-assed for any of these bastards.

“All off, dud,” one of Pearl’s friends called. “We don’t want your ugly undies floating around in our sacred pool.”

I’m pretty sure that forcing people to strip down is some form of sexual assault.

But again, these people are forbidding her to be able to eat, and said “eating is a privilege”. So I don’t know why I expected for them to not be committing actions of sexual violence against others.

“Like I said. No chance, but you earned an E for Entertainment.”

Chapter 9 summary: In the cave, Pearl shows Vail the cave drawings. They’re supposed to show the history of their species, but I’m honestly unimpressed with the entire thing. And her stupid story. Mainly, I’m hoping that this stupid book will get to the point… along with Pearl’s bullying.

Eventually, she takes Vail to a waterfall. Everybody is stripping naked, and going under the falls, where the water forces them to shift. Pearl forces Vail to strip naked and to go under the falls, but to nobody’s surprise, nothing happens.

What’s worse is that when Vail comes out, somebody’s stolen her shoes. So not only will she be forced to shlep back to the school (which was an hour by bus), but she’s going to have to do it barefoot.

Chapter 10

But the next time I’d seen her, I’d been shaking myself dry and trying to avoid hitting the little omega who clutched my clothes with my swinging dick.

[Image description: An image of actress Emma Stone. She is a white 20-something actress with dark red hair. She is wearing a yellow shirt, red lipstick, and red earrings. She has a look of disgust on her face. It is captioned with “I had to read this and so do you.” End description.]

“Miss Vail, since you failed to shift today, you unfortunately can’t ride on the school vehicles.” She checked a notebook in her hand, which had about a dozen names written on it. “You’re not the only one, so just remember to stick with the group. Nadine and Adam are seniors, and have both been through this before. They’ll lead the way.”

Yeah right. Who the hell would willingly go back to that fucking concentration camp?

“You can’t walk twelve miles barefoot.”

I hope I speak for all of us when I say JFC.

“Maybe it’ll help me shift. Shock therapy and all that.” She turned and nodded at Mrs. Gladstone. “See you back at school.”

Chapter 10 summary: The only consolation to all of this is that at least Jasper feels bad about forcing all of this onto Vail. He mopes about this for nearly two pages before he asks where she is. Somebody says that he saw Pearl taking her to the human toilets. (Shifters love to shit in the woods. Which is not a mental image I enjoy, thanks.)

He goes over there, where some freshman is like “they’re hogging up the bathroom!” Jasper hears something that he won’t describe for the reader, and then he rips the door open.

Inside, he finds Vail with the creepy dude from the first chapter. I forget his name, and Vail won’t tell Jasper, so I’m not sure that it matters. Jasper chases the boy away, and then demands answers from Vail as to why a stranger is in their territory. Vail refuses to answer.

He then drags her over to the fancy bus that the alphas rode over on, and insists that she’s going to ride home “while sitting on his lap, and whispering in Jasper’s ear all about that boy”. The teacher shows up and insists that since Vail couldn’t transform, she has to walk the 12 miles (about 3 hours, according to google) back home with the other duds. Jasper insists that she’s going to ride with him, but Vail is like “No thanks” and storms off.

#packless #hunter moon academy #bookblr #readers of tumblr #book review #omegaverse #reverse harem #romance novels #supernatural romance #fantasy novel #werewolves

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theshatteredrose · 1 year

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I posted 548 times in 2022

328 posts created (60%)

220 posts reblogged (40%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tinygamertris

@theshatteredrose

@thispleasestormod

@beardedmrbean

@maureen2musings

I tagged 207 of my posts in 2022

#etrian odyssey - 53 posts

#fanfiction - 30 posts

#reblog - 23 posts

#author ramblings - 18 posts

#fanart - 16 posts

#writer problems - 14 posts

#oc labyrinth inspiration - 13 posts

#etrian odyssey nexus - 12 posts

#etrian odyssey 5 - 11 posts

#very important - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 48 characters

#just no energy to actually do anything with them

My Top Posts in 2022:

yknow, come to think of it... which race even IS egar? my first thought was earthlain, but during the event where you get the recipe for fishball soup, its mentioned that its a therian recipe passed down from guildmaster to guildmaster, plus there's the bit in the artbook of him apparently having a therian child at some point in development, so maaaaybe he's a therian??

Hmm, he works closely with the Earthlain royal family, however. So there's that. Although, that bucket helmet he wears could be somewhat accommodating for his therian features.

I like the idea of him being Earthlain and just adopting a therian child. Adopting any child who's parents were explorers, and said explorers had met an untimely end. Him just bringing home adopted children and his wife is 100% ok with it.

Previous guildmaster could be of any race, and perhaps the first guildmaster ever established was Therian.

There is also the possibility that he, himself, had been adopted by the previous guildmaster, who was Therian.

Let's also not overlook the fact that he could be half Earthlain, half Therian.

Heck, why not all of the above?

16 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

So I did the events of Area Zero in Pokemon Violet and...I wasn’t ready.

Arveeeeeeen...

21 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

See the full post

27 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

There's been a lot of worrying news about floods in my feed today. Are you okay? Safe from the flooding? I really hope so!

Oh yes, everything's calm where I am, thankfully. It's actually quite hot today, so I'm getting a bit of laundry dry for a change! I'm located on a bit of a hill, so just need to watch out for water running downhill should the rain become torrential. From weather reports, I should have a couple more days of sunshine, which would be a nice change.

I also just got back from the vet. Nothing serious, just that my little girl is an adventurous brat who thinks she's bigger than she really is. I wish she was more like her brother; content to sit in the sunlight and meow for attention. But no, she has to continuously stick her nose into everything like a hyperactive child.

29 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok, so last night was fun.

About 5.30pm yesterday, my uncle fell off the roof of his single-story house and handed on concrete. But he was home alone at the time. He managed to phone his wife, but the message was garbled and all she could discern from him was he fell off the roof and there was a lot of blood. Not something anyone wants to hear, but especially someone who works in the medical profession. Unfortunately, she works 40mins away. She called her daughter to see if she could get there first.

And she does. Manages to get an ambulance and all’s good. Right?

Not exactly. Poor thing was in such a flap she either forgot to ask or was told and simply didn’t hear where they were taking him (he lives in the middle of nowhere in the country so numerous possibilities that are literal hours in any direction).

My aunt and cousin get to the hospital they thought he was at, only to find he’s not there. In fact, he’s not in the system. At all.

So, where the fuck was he?

That’s kinda where I was informed of everything. I had no idea above happened until I get a phone call from my mum basically stating, “Your uncle is missing, and no one can find him.” Literal what the fuck?

Mum is terrible at explaining things, jfc.

Took some time to get the above from her. But, like, he’s in an ambulance. How the fuck did he go missing? Unless he turned zombie, attacked the medics, and then wandered off into the scrub, he couldn’t be ‘missing’.

Apparently, he was.

Took three hours of ringing hospitals to learn that he wasn’t not even out in the country. He wasn’t in an ambulance. He was in a bloody helicopter being flown to Canberra hospital.

Turns out he was on his way to Wagga Wagga Hospital but had deteriorated in the ambulance, so they pulled into the nearest airstrip and called for the helicopter to fly him to Canberra.

Needless to say, he’s not in very good shape; bleeding on the brain and neck in a brace. Seems to have movement in his arms, though. They’re thinking of transferring him to Sydney, though.

41 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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dilxcs · 3 years

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pairing : suna rintarō x gn!reader

genre : hurt/comfort

word count : 645

tw : mention of depression (albeit vaguely though)

[a/n] : i’m sorry if this is shit,,, my writing inspiration has been more dry than the sahara desert like jfc. anyway, i hope this is to someones liking T.T

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Rin, I’m worried about you.”

It’s no secret that you have been worried for Suna’s mental health. During these past few weeks he has been acting mellow, showing no interest in the things that used to give him joy.

“Don’t be, I’m fine y/n,” is what he says in a toneless voice, almost automatically at this point. Suna is already the type of person who has difficulty expressing his feelings, but since the moment he started dating you, he got a bit better at it.

At least, that is what you thought until he locked his feelings away again. You know that he doesn’t want to worry you, but by pushing you away he will only achieve the opposite effect.

He’s been skipping out on practice, with the excuse that he has to help around the house or that he doesn’t have someone who can babysit his little sister. Granted, the team believed him at first and they didn’t make a big fuss about it until the sixth time he used the same kind of excuse. That’s when the alarm bells started to ring and they asked you to talk to him.

“Stop that, Rin. Stop pushing me away. I want to help you with whatever is bothering you, if only you let me in for once,” you plead with him, getting a hold of his hands to prevent him from walking away again. To give him the reassurance that he’s not alone.

Suna won’t look you in the eyes, his gaze directed to the floor. His shoulders hunch more than usual and his mouth forms a straight line.

“Rin, please. Don’t shut me out again,” you whisper softly as you place the palm of your hand against his cheek.

That is the moment his entire demeanor changes, like a barrier that was holding back all of his emotions up until this point when it finally cracks and the first few tears start to fall, ultimately leading to his breakdown as loud sobs echo through the room.

His body starts to shake vigorously and you waste no time as you hold him tight in your arms. Both of you slide down to the ground and you cradle him like how a parent does with their child.

“I-I can’t do this anymore, I c-can’t,” he chants over and over again, while you whisper for him to ‘let it all out’.

His voice sounds so broken, afraid and lost, as if he’s suddenly eight years-old again. A child who asks to be loved, to be heard.

You wait patiently for him to calm down from his emotional outburst, before you ask him if he’s ready to talk. He gives you a hesitant nod, before he opens his mouth.

“I feel undeserving of this life of mine. Like I’m just another fake, fucked up lost cause who doesn’t deserve a shred of worth and I’m scared of the nightmares from the past that keep haunting me,” he says gruffly, because of the crying prior.

“You’re nothing of the things you called yourself. You’re hurting, Rin. That doesn’t make you undeserving of life, nor does it mean that you’re fake or unworthy. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this mental path alone, but I promise you that you’re not alone anymore,” you speak softly as you card your hand through his chocolate brown locks, seeming to calm him down with your touch.

“I’m with you through the smiles and the tears, through the good and bad times. Please don’t push me away again. I know that it can be difficult to talk about what is hurting you. You may feel like you’re being a bother or a burden, but Rin,” you place your palm back on his cheek to redirect his face up to yours, making sure to look him straight in the eyes as you tell him the next words with honesty and sincerity.

“You will never be a burden or a bother to me, nor will you scare me away. I love you Rintarō and you are allowed to lean on me as much as you need to, I will always be here for you. We will get you out of this dark tunnel, together.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

reblogs are appreciated !

taglist : @ara-mitsue @beautifulblhell @justanawolf @tunamiya (i’m sorry if u don’t wanna be tagged in any of my fic, pls do let me know if that’s the case ! for anyone who wants to be tagged in any of my future works, u can go ahead and sent me an ask 🥰)

#suna rintarō #suna rintarou #cw depression #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #ઉ˚࿐ — writings [🖋]

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comfreyhollywings · 2 years

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𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓 )

🌠 oddly enough, from what i've seen from my experiences with capricorn placements in the major three (esp sun), they were always really attracted to water. i’m just throwing a stray dart why this may be, but i have a suspicion that this may had have to do with how misunderstood capricorn placements could be at times? like, it sounds weird, but hear me out. the water can do nothing but to reflect back their behavior - plus w/ them not always being so 'ambitious', they have a place where they don't always have to live up with expectations. they can just be without feeling 'alone'. they can submerge without having to worry nor feel anything. water cools them down instead of driving them to go. plus, because of their ‘senses’, it’s water that appeals to them in all five senses.

🌠 capricorn placements are, on god (personally), so so wise. they’re there to ground you if needed and they’re not afraid to give you a gentle nudge that, hey, it’s not all unsolvable, yk?? if you give them a platform to speak, they have extremely valuable advice to give you practically. just learn to listen to their advice. you don’t have to agree with all of it, but take some bits that they offer. i assure you, your future self would appreciate it.

🌠 despite being a cardinal sign, they’re not necessarily,,, sh*t starters. like. yeah. they do ‘start’ things up to get sh*t done in their work place, but ( keep in mind, this is depending on their moon and other aspects) they’re generally... so f*cking chill personally. they just have?? ambition?? is all???? like guys. guys. ambition isn’t a bad thing. they’re not purposefully razing over people to get what they want, jfc.

🌠 tbh, even as ‘callous’ and ‘blunt, as they can be, they’re pretty sensitive. and i mean, they are on par with water signs with this sensitivity in terms of affection. at the end of the day, they just want affection without impure motives. when they have been shown affection, capricorn placements care so much that they start to malfunction. because. affection?!?! without motives?!?! and yeah. it’s the most precious thing. they’ll remember it and give back to you in quiet, small ways. practical-wise, they’ll catch you if you ever need that extra hand.

🌠very smart, patient people. they know how to garner their way to social-status and use their resources wisely.

🌠 not quite surprised at half the sh*t you may do. dry sense of humor, it’s funny because when they try - it doesn’t hit. but when they don’t try, it hits so hard.

🌠these people. are sensual. not in a ‘oh sexy hurdur’ way, but it’s like,,, they use their senses a lot to navigate through the world bc of their earthy nature. hence, i think most of their love language would be through gifts and little trinkets they can visibly touch.

🌠not necessarily flashy. they hold a simplistic charm to their looks. very classy.

🌠honestly, if they’ve given you patience - please give the same patience back to them. if you don’t, it peeves them that they can’t take their time with what they need to do and they can’t put out proper quality with it. that being said, it’s preferred if you don’t rush these people.

🌠 if you need advice on how to conserve your energy wisely for business usage, these are the people you want to ask to.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫, 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥.

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬 𝐢 𝐠𝐨.

#capricorn #caprricornobservations #astrology #astro community #astrology observations

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etherealskeletons · 2 years

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i rlly hate peter that man jus picks every fucking battle and makes work miserable by being such an asshole and wanting everything done FAST instead of safe and at a normal speed he will make things thatre not a big deal a huge deal and will be such a dick about everything and refuses to listen to logic its always his way or the highway and the highway is him angrily growling and leaving hes such a fuckin DOUCHE and has so much abusive tendencies it makes me go insane i feel like im living with my mother being around this man-

hes such a dick all the time i dont understand WHY he takes his shit out on us and he brings up how we dont pay rent even tho they say we dont have to and we pay in other ways?? like jfc we help them out with food all the time with EBT and we work around the house and help them with literally anything they ask - we spent a good chunk of summer splitting and stacking wood all fuckin day and we bought them these stupid fuckin expensive ass tools for their shitty fixer upper house that hes been building for 30 years and its still not done??? how do u have a house for 30 years and brag about being a master builder and whatever and not be anywhere near done with it,, he brags so fucking much too like ohhh im such an amazing cook and baker but everything he makes is kinda meh and its usually p unseasoned and i dont rlly care for any of it! how do u fuck up muffins and mac n cheese those are fuckin EASY!!!!! urs are dense and dry/crumbly with no taste and the mac n cheese is so fucking DRY how do u make mac n cheese fresh taste like its been in the fridge for a week and is only slightly hot what the FUCK??? HOW???? WHAT DID U DO TO THIS,,,

and my cousin is so fuckin stupid for many reasons shes always been kinda stupid and this compulsive liar but also a hardcore christian/republican and shes even more stupid for marrying him after he married/dated in our family like two or three times and for agreeing with everything he says and defends his shitty actions and behavior and says shit like ohh god led him to her and that hes the best thing like GIRL hes NOT??? HES AN ASSHOLE OLD ASS ABUSIVE MAN AND HIS KIDS ARE ASSHOLES TO U TOO LIKE HUH???? ur biggest dream was having a baby but u cant even have one with the one asshole u married bc he got the snip and refuses to get it checked up and doesnt think reversing it is worth it but they also talk all the time about how theyre gonna have lots and lots of babies as soon as he retires SOMEHOW THEYRE GONNA HAVE BABIES,,??

and she always picks every battle too like dude relax its not that big of a fuckin deal?? like the diffuser jfc u mention it and theyre instantly like UHM AKCTUALLY ITS GOOD FOR UR HEALTH AND IT CLEANS THE AIR AND ITS ALL IN UR HEA D UR NOT ALLERGIC TO IT even tho we both have asthma and it litereally makes my dads face beet red and full of hives lmao bUT I GUESS OIL IN WATER CURES EVERYTHIN AND WERE FAKING IT OR SMTH,,, and they both start bitchin and arguing with us like were not even arguing with u tf is this attitude comin from?? just stating oh its turned on makes peter go SHES JUS TURNING THE LIGHT ON SHES NOT TURNING THE DIFUSER ON JUS AN FYI U CAN READ FOR LATER like dude stop being such a passive aggressive pos wife if u bother to look up from ur tablet u can clearly see its going off and my cousins like IM NOT TURNING IT ON ITS JUS TURNING ON WHEN I PRESS THE LIGHT BUTTON AND I NEVER HAVE IT ON FOR LONG AND ITS GOOD FOR THE AIR AND EVERYONE i dont think its good for their cat either like ive been readin about it and so many articles say its toxic and my dad shows this to my cousin and she jus like WELL THE ONES I GET ARENT TOXIC TO CATS SHES FINE UR BEING EMOTIONAL AND NOT MAKING ANY SENSE like??? maam u have clove, lemongrass, and eucalyptus oil and all of those arent safe for cats - google searches can show u most of ur oils are toxic for ur kitty!!

theyre not even really good cat owners like the cat has NEVER been played with until i moved in and they had the cat for 5 years like HUH???? U NEVER PLAYED WITH LIL MEOW MEOW??? NOT EVEN ONCE??? WHY??? jus bc i didnt think of it like WHAT??? their cat snores too and while its cute and silly its making me nervous that shes having problems breathing bc of the oils she puts in the air for literally hours [even tho they lie and say its only for one hour but its such bs,,] and they dont always clean the cat box they leave it for a week or whatever until the cat complains like hg?? why not clean it everyday dude, itd makes the basement smell nicer,, ALSO the cat had like a broken tooth or smth awhile back like around christmas and they went to the vet but were pissed at the bill and were like WERE NOT PAYING THAT ITS TOO MUCH!!! WERE NOT DOIN IT!!! LIKE HUH??? WHAT??? I KNOW IT SUCKS TO SHELL OUT MONEY FOR A LIL TOOTH BUT U GOTTA DO IT IF U LOVE AND CARE FOR UR CAT YOUD DO IT??? they never did it either they jus assumed it fell out and that the cats fine, never went back to the vet for a checkup or nothin,,, man,,,,

shes also a stay at home wife but its obvious shes depressed or SOMETHING bc she doesnt cook or clean much they normally eat microwaved food and i often vacuum the floors/carpets bc they get so NASTEY,,, she jus,,, doesnt do much,,, i dont get it i dont know what happened to her but after she got married she turned into this blob of a 50s housewife but not rlly a housewife bc she only sometimes cooks and cleans and h???

theyre both like ahaha welllll~ its bc im such a type a personality💕 like yea a for asshole, ur both such assholes its no wonder why your sisters dont like you and treat u and ur husband like shit and why your kids treat you both like shit jfc

theyre both so fuckin delusional and idiotic too they bitch about how they hate big corporations and how they NEVER shop at walmart or lowes bc they prefer mom and pop shops and peter will be like “I DONT GO TO THRIFT STORES BC THEYRE ICKY AND DISGUSTING,, I ONLY GO TO ANTIQUIE SHOPS BC THEYRE BETTER IN EVERY WAY” but then they only shop at walmart and hannaford and dollartree literally all the time and have never set foot in ANY of the lil mom and pop shops near their house, he works at a big corporation and acts like he doesnt for some reason??? like its a lil pop shop like dude??? no??? its not??? they deepthroat the boot of these corporations and think theyre better than everyone bc they say they dont shop there like????? what,,,?? and they think tr*mp is gonna make this country great again and if hes not reelected the rapture WILL ABSOLUTELY happen [????????? WHICH PASTOR SAID THIS BTW LIKE HELLO???? I JUS WANNA TALK,, WHO SAID THIS,,, WHOS MAKING MY RELATIVES MORE STUPIDER,,,]

IDK like im thankful theyre hosting us but i wish they werent such childish dicks and i wish i had a normal family that wasnt,,, Like This ://

#💀.txt #diary #i wish the rapture would happen so ppl like this can jus.. go #but idk if theyd even be raptured bc theyre jus so.... ykno...

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years

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Blood in the Rivers: I

A/N: I don’t even know, fam. This was supposed to be just smut but then The Plot happened and now this is 13.4k words and nowhere near finished. Now, it is somehow righting the wrongs D&D (and GRRM, let’s be real) trolled us with. There will be obvious canon-divergence right off the bat.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: M for canon typical violence, canon typical sexism, things get hot and heavy (or at least I try to make them...? Whatever. you be the judge) and my overuse of italics

Word Count: 13.4k (jfc)

Summary: Y/N Tully always knew how to play the part of the perfect lady when someone was watching. It was a game she liked to play, knowing how to act in order to get what she wanted. But now, as the War of the Five Kings rages, Y/N knows she needs allies if she wants to keep her family safe and her head on her shoulders. But in this game, everything has a price.

Chapter One: Plots, Plots, Plots

Smuggling Sansa out of King’s Landing had consumed the youngest Tully. While she played the part of dutiful peon, renouncing her father, uncle, and cousin and their actions against the crown, she was plotting. Sansa was sweet and kind and everything Y/N knew she should be as a highborn lady. Watching Joffrey command Meryn Trent to beat and strip her cousin’s eldest daughter in front of a crowd had only driven her to near madness in her quest to protect Sansa. It only took a handful of weeks for the plan to be finalized. Murmurs of Stannis Baratheon’s impending attack were quickly sweeping through the Red Keep and all of King’s Landing.

She set off toward the Keep’s rookery with two small missives neatly stacked together. An aged maester had been the same guardian of the ravens for decades. Blind in one eye and slow to walk, she knew her window was reasonable but still limited. He was also a loyal dog to the queen. Each of her movements would be whispered in Cersei’s ear by lunch.

She stepped into the rookery and resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the scent of shit and dirt and dust. It was just another reminder of how far away she was from Riverrun and its clean air, always scented with the mist and overgrown grasses.

The Maester stood slowly from his cluttered desk and offered her a small smile. “Ah, Lady Tully. How may I help you?”

She held up the slips of parchment to make it look like a single letter. “A missive for my Uncle Hoster.”

“Ah,” the maester said, the sound catching in his throat. “Another plea for him to see reason?”

“Of course.” She handed over the carefully written and brief letter while tucking the other into her palm.

The maester read it and nodded. “You are a service to your house, my lady.”

She pressed a pleased smile to her lips and dipped her head demurely, as she had half a dozen times before. Edmure and Hoster were aware that she would be pressed to write stupid letters like the one in the maester’s spindly fingers. The only truth written in those missives were that she loved them. “I thank you for that.” She then plucked it from his fingers with another smile and started to walk backward toward the cage.

“May I send it for you, my lady? The ravens here tend to be fickle beasts if they do not know your face.” The maester smiled kindly and held out his hand for her letter again.

But she shook her head and continued backward. It was true, usually her letters were taken directly from her desk and sent off without having to go to the rookery herself—but this called for a change. She’d visited the rookery last week to see how it was divided between the realms and she could time how quick she needed to be in her task; it had been under the guise of being lost looking for the Grand Maester to “ask for guidance as to how to bring her errant father and uncle back under the guidance of the Crown.” It was all so easy to play the part of mindless crown loyalist. “The ravens of Riverrun have always adored me—I do not see why these would be any different. But I do thank you for the offer.”

She skittered through the door and quickly found the correct batch of ravens and fastened the small slip of parchment to the raven’s leg and set it loose before flittering over to the ravens meant for Riverrun and tying the other. She set that one loose a little slower as she heard the maester step into the large cage with his uneven gait. She made a bit of a show of watching the raven fly away in the window and turned and heaved a hearty sigh.

“They seem to like you.” He chuckled, another dry, rasping sound.

“Yes, I suppose.” Another exaggerated sigh. “I do hope Lord Tully listens to reason this time.” She then curtseyed and walked away. The maester looked relieved as she said goodbye to him and took her leave of the rookery.

But it was done.

And when the Red Keep was essentially barricaded against the coming attack, she knew her time had come. She slipped out of Maegor’s Holdfast without too much fanfare. Cersei was drunk and had requested more wine anyway. Y/N saw the opportunity for what it was and left the Holdfast under the guise of serving the Queen, just ahead of schedule.

Sounds of the battle echoed through the strangely empty halls as she hurriedly made her way toward her destination. Quiet footsteps soon followed her and she skirted around a corner and pulled out the small dagger she’d hidden in her sleeve. But it was poor Sansa who had followed her—much earlier than what they had agreed upon.

“I-I’m sorry!” Sansa whimpered as she stared at the sharp edge of her “cousin’s” blade.

“You are fine, my little one. I’m sorry I almost cut you.” She quickly hid the dagger away and took Sansa’s hand, leading her back toward her chambers. The older of the two was equal parts relieved and shocked to see the Hound waiting in Sansa’s rooms. “Sandor.” His name came like a rushed breath. “You are early.”

“I’m not doing-”

“Take Sansa to Dorne.”

Both of them gaped at the request.

“What?” It was Sansa who finally broke the tense silence of the room. “Dorne? B-but, I-”

She gathered the Sansa’s hands in her own and kissed her shaking fingers. “You will be safe. Sandor will see you there without harm. Everyone will think you’ve gone North and scavenge and pillage looking for you. No one will think to look for you in Dorne. The Martells have no love for the Lannisters even with the betrothal of Trystane and Myrcella. They will know of your story.” She knew it to be a shaky alliance to begin with, especially with Myrcella being betrothed to Trystane. But betrothals could be broken and their memories were long. And this was the best option for Sansa. The only.

“You won’t come with me?” Tears gathered in her eyes.

She shook her head. “I must let them think they’ve won. I still have a part to play in this game.” She then turned to the taciturn soldier. “What say you, Sandor? Will you deliver Sansa to Dorne? Keep her safe, unharmed, and untouched?”

His burnt face twisted in a grimace. “I should take her North. Like I said-”

“But you will not. South is safe. Keep her safe.” She bent and pulled something from her skirts—a small satchel of coin. She pushed it into his hands when he didn’t move to accept it.

“I don’t want your fuckin’ coin-”

“This is for food and shelter during your travels. Take it. Now.” She only let herself smile when he did. “You may not believe in knighthood, Sandor. But you are the only man I’ve met who even compares to a true knight.”

The burnt man frowned at her words but didn’t say anything. He took several steps back as Sansa flung her arms about Y/N’s shoulders in a fierce embrace.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, little one. Now, you must stay alive.” A handful more of quiet encouragements and goodbyes were spoken before she pulled a small sack from beneath Sansa’s bed and handed it to her. “A few dresses for the warmer weather. And I stole some lemon cakes from the kitchens.”

Sandor snorted.

Sansa nodded with tears in her eyes and let out a shaking breath as Y/N kissed her forehead. “Go, Sansa. Live.” She watched Sansa place a shaking hand in Sandor’s before they quietly disappeared into the night.

Outside, the battle raged on. Y/N slipped out of Sansa’s chambers and walked toward the Holdfast once again. She hid away in a darkened passageway and once again drew her dagger. It didn’t take long for her to complete the final task of her plan for the night. She had grabbed a jug of wine from the kitchens and let it slip from her fingers with a crash before turning the blade on herself. Pain bloomed through her stomach and her dagger clattered to the ground, slipping from her now-slick, reddened grip. “Help me!” She screamed, forcing tears to her eyes. “Help me!”

Life in King’s Landing hadn’t particularly changed since the Tyrells had arrived. Of course, people whispered about Sansa’s disappearance—her favorite rumor was that Sansa turned into a wolf and raced into the battle herself. And Y/N’s stab wound had earned her a strange sort of awe around the court. Stabbed for wine, the stupidity of it all. The official story was that a kitchen maid had tried to steal some jewels (or just food, depending on who was asked) and little Lady Tully had caught the maid in the act before she fled into the night. They stopped by the time her wound had healed. As she sat across from Olenna Tyrell in the gardens, Y/N suddenly wondered if she had finally met an adversary worthy of her time or another ally. Margaery, the beauty and new betrothed to the Brat King, Joffrey after the ‘victory’ of the Battle of the Blackwater, seemed amiable enough as she sat beside her grandmother but a beautiful face often hid an ugly heart. Cersei was proof of that enough.

“You know, a cousin of mine was nearly scandalized by your father,” Olenna said as the tea was poured.

“Scandalized?” she parroted, feeling a smirk touch the corner of her lips. She knew exactly the story she was thinking of. “Surely not.”

“Oh yes. Our father tried to marry her off to Brynden Tully and he said no. ‘No!’ like she was some underfed calf.” She laughed. “It was the most childish fit she’d ever thrown.” Olenna waved away the servants as soon as the plate of lemon cakes was placed upon the table, nearly tipping the bowl of berries. “She eventually married some Vyrwel boy. And your father,” Olenna’s dark eyes suddenly pinned her guest, “married your mother.”

“I’ve heard stories of them, even in The Reach,” Margaery said with a kind smile.

Something tight twisted in her stomach at that, as it always did when a beautiful woman fixed her with a gaze. “I’ve heard a song the Valemen sing. I was unaware that my parents’ union was such fodder for stories across The Realms.” She stirred a bit of honey into her tea, fighting a smile as she always did when she heard of her parents. Some claimed to know her parents as they truly were, but few did. Few knew their story as it actually happened.

“Well, when someone as lofty as a Tully marries a lowborn girl nearly half his age--from Pentos, no less--it is sure to cause quite a stir.” Olenna arched an eyebrow, daring her to refute it. “No matter how pretty.”

“Love is a precarious thing. I cannot fault my father for whom he loved.”

“Love! Pah! Love is for stories and songs.”

“Grandmother, please. I am to be married soon—you said you loved grandfather and I know my lord father loves mother.”

“They learned to appreciate each other, dear girl. There is a difference.”

“I believe in love,” Margaery said, full of conviction but still smiling.

“And you, Lady Tully? Little Fish? Do you believe in love? You are past the age of majority. How you have not yet been married off is a mystery. You are highborn. Wealthy. Beautiful. Did your parents always plan for you to be a septa? A silent sister?” Olenna asked.

A poorly hidden titter nearly sloshed the tea from her cup. “Truly, I do not know.”

The older woman hummed. “I still find it strange that you were not at least introduced to someone after your first flowering.” She sipped her tea. “Have you spoken with your father?”

“No, my lady. He has taken to King Robb’s service.”

“Oh, yes, and to leave your unwed daughter in the Lion’s Den.” She huffed. “Lord Tully, too.”

“Grandmother,” Margaery softly chided.

“It is true and you know it.”

“It is true,” she acknowledged. But she trusted them just as they trusted her.

“But your uncle—he must have had some sense of duty to you.”

Y/N nodded. “Hoster Tully’s duty to me was to see me educated and fed. He succeeded at both. Exceeded at everything else a doting uncle usually deems necessary.” He had allowed her to train with blades and horses when she had excelled past her Maester and Septa’s teachings. It had been hidden from Court at Riverrun. But she had been a natural in that regard, too. She loved to spar and run wild with her horse in the fields and lands around Riverrun. It felt like another life. Or a lifetime ago.

Olenna leaned forward with an odd gleam in her eye. “Oh yes. I’ve heard you were sent as part of the Riverlands delegation when that band of raiders was running amok. The rest of the company left after Eddard lost his head—but not you. You stayed.”

“Leaving Sansa alone in the capital was not an option.”

“Yes, yes. Sansa Stark. The disappeared.”

Margaery shifted in her seat and took a bite of lemon cake, eyes warm but still calculating. But she continued to let her grandmother steer the conversation. “I have been told you were quite close to your cousin’s daughter. She confided in you, did she not? About King Joffrey.”

She took a sip of her tea and regarded the pair. Oh, yes. A formidable match indeed. This was either a half-hearted attempt at tricking her into admitting treason or a true plea for fact.

“Only Sansa would be able to divulge all the small details, I assume. But you will have to do, won’t you? Who else would know better in this wretched city?” Olenna pinned her with another stare. “We’ve heard some troubling tales. Is there any truth to them? Has this boy mistreated Sansa?”

She hummed and spied a man passing by, almost hidden by the bushes and greenery. “King Joffrey, His Grace is very fair and as brave as a lion.”

Olenna huffed as her granddaughter rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, all Lannisters are lions. And when a Tyrell farts, it smells like a rose.”

Margaery finally spoke, leaning forward in her seat, a sea of pretty blue fabric washing across the stone pavers as she moved. “But how kind is he? How clever? Has he a good heart, a gentle hand? I’m to be his wife; I only want to know what that means.”

Keeping quiet at a time like this was a simple tactic. Needing information made people desperate. Or agitated.

“Are you frightened, child?” Olenna huffed. “No need for that. We’re only women here.”

“And the men in the bushes behind you?”

“Loyal to me and only me.”

“And who are you loyal to, Lady Olenna?”

A small smile touched the woman’s lips. “You are a brazen one, aren’t you? Your father must be so proud.”

And she could not stop her own smile. “He is. I’m sure.”

“I am loyal to my family and my family alone. No harm will come to you, Little Fish.”

That was enough for her, satisfied that the Tyrells were self-serving enough to keep her counsel. “Eddard Stark always told the truth.”

“Yes, he had that reputation,” Olenna said with a nod.

“And they named him traitor and took his head. Joffrey did that. He promised he would be merciful and he cut Eddard’s head off. And he said that was mercy. Then he took Sansa up on the walls and made her look at it.” Rage bubbled under her skin as she remembered how broken Sansa had been, bleeding lip and tearful eyes, as Sandor lead her back to her chambers after that terrible scene. Someone as kind and pure as Sansa never deserved it. On the other hand, Margaery did not either. But there was a steely resolve and cunning tenacity that made her believe the Tyrell girl could bend just about anyone to her will. “He’s a monster.” There, she had said it.

“That’s a pity,” Olenna said, her tone making it seem like she’d had believed all the rumors anyway. Margaery sighed, looking disappointed.

“Will you stop the wedding?” She asked.

Olenna shook her head. “Have no fear. The Lord Oaf of Highgarden is determined that Margaery shall be queen. Even so, we thank you for the truth.”

For a while, they simply spoke about the wedding details and she did find the pair’s wit quite enjoyable. They never minced words and appreciated how they instantly seemed to know that she could hold her own.

“But if I never see another stitch of that red and gold, it will be too soon.”

“It is as if you are marrying a Lannister instead of a Baratheon,” Y/N hummed, plucking a berry from the plate. “Would you prefer the black and gold?”

“She looks quite fetching in gold,” Olenna said with an easy smile, one of the few she noticed the Queen of Thorns only reserved for her granddaughter. “But what of you, Little Fish? Your colors are blue and red.”

“I’ve never been fond of them. My father took the moniker of Blackfish and I have taken it as well. I much prefer black and red.”

“Black and red,” Margaery laughed lightly. “Like a little Targaryen.”

“Well,” she said with a light laugh, “we both have scales.”

Olenna tilted her head to the side, purveying the young woman in front of her for a moment. “Have you ever been to The Reach?”

“No, my lady. I do hope to visit Oldtown one day.” She answered honestly, confused by the change of subject.

Olenna clucked, smirk pulling at her lips. “Well, I have a proposition for you.”

“Lady Tully.” The small group of women turned to see Tywin Lannister strolling into the gardens. “Lady Olenna, Lady Margaery,” he added, with a tip of his head. “May I speak with you, Lady Tully?”

Y/N turned to Olenna, eyes pleading. Please do not make me leave with him.

“Now.” Apparently that wasn’t an option.

She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth and stood, pressing another smile to her lips. “Of course.” She turned back to Olenna. “Thank you, Lady Olenna, Lady Margaery, for the tea.”

“Of course, dear. You are always welcome at my table.” The Queen of Thorns, for her all her prickly nature and stinging words, actually looked troubled for the younger woman. “Take Ella with you. No young woman should be unaccompanied.” Another woman, probably one of Olenna or Margaery’s retinue, appeared as her name was said and tipped her head toward Tywin and Y/N in turn.

Y/N nodded at them and made her way to Tywin’s side who quickly made it clear that Ella was to stay several paces back. Ella did as she was told but arched an eyebrow as she made eye contact with her one-time charge. “How can I help you, Lord Tywin?” She let him lead, further into the gardens, the greenery growing higher and thicker with each step. She never wanted to be near the old lion. His reputation preceded him in every way and the fact that he felt the need to be alone with her only served to increase her trepidation. They had been introduced only two days prior, by a smirking Cersei, who had boasted of her father’s achievements at length before mentioning, however briefly, that Y/N was “much more amiable than her cousins.” A tentative compliment, to be sure. The old lion had kissed her hand and smirked at her, rolling her stomach, but she knew how to tip her chin demurely and curtseyed out of practiced politeness before she was dismissed.

But now she was here, in the gardens, largely unaccompanied by the man responsible for the death of the dragons an age ago and the one who set in motion all of her family’s tragedies.

“The Queen speaks highly of you.”

“Her Grace is too kind. It is I who should speak highly of her. She has fed me and housed me when my family has taken the side of traitors.” The words were acid on her tongue. Lies upon lies upon lies. “I am forever in her debt.” Tywin smirked and she fought the urge to let her lip curl in a snarl. “But I’m sure you did not ask me to walk with you to speak of your daughter.”

“You are correct. The Realm is still at war. Your family has held Riverrun for generations. While it is possible for the Crown to raise another family to Lord Paramount of the Trident, it always ends in more bloodshed. But you are smart—loyal.”

The conversation was quickly spiraling into unfamiliar and dangerous territory. “I thank you, my lord. I know the Realm needs stability now more than ever.”

“Yes. Stability.” The word sounded strange on his tongue. “Exactly.”

Frantic footsteps behind them drew their attention and she was thankful for it, whomever it was, and turned to see who had come. It was her handmaiden, a pretty girl named Daisy from the Stormlands who had once been Myrcella’s chambermaid before the princess was shipped off to Dorne.

“My lady!” She was out of breath and then blushed a violent shade of red as she noticed Tywin and quickly dropped into a curtsey. “Lord Hand, I beg your pardon.”

“What is it, girl?”

Ella started to laugh at his displeasure but hid it behind a sneeze.

“You have a raven, my lady. I know you prefer to read them promptly.”

Relief washed over her like a wave. “You are a treasure, Daisy. I thank you.” She turned to Tywin and curtseyed. “I must take my leave, Lord Hand. I am hoping it is from my father or uncle. I do believe I might have reached their hearts and minds in regards to this traitorous alliance with my Northern-wed cousin.”

“I will speak again with you soon, my lady.” He grasped her hand before she could leave and pressed another kiss to her knuckles. “I wish you luck with your troublesome family.”

She pressed a smile to her lips and knew it appeased him with the smirk he gave her as she curtseyed again and then quickly walked away, Daisy struggling to keep pace. She made sure to touch Ella’s hand in thanks before she rejoined the Tyrell retinue, and then quickly made her way to her chambers.

As the door to her chambers closed, Daisy quickly pulled the letter from her skirts with a small smile. It was still sealed with not a trace of one trying to decipher its inner secrets. She pulled a gold dragon from a small satchel tied about her waist and dropped it into Daisy’s palm, as she did every time the maid gave her a letter and guaranteed her secrecy. While the ravens from Y/N were many, those coming to her were few—a precious few. Daisy was tasked with retrieving them from the rookery before the maester could read them and then make a false report to one of Cersei’s many spies about its contents. The girl was trustworthy, worth her weight in gold—and she paid her thus. Daisy’s own vendetta against the Lannisters had started when the Lannister men stormed the streets of King’s Landing in an attack against Eddard Stark and his Northern bannermen. Jory Cassel, head of Eddard’s personal guard, had been killed. No one knew of Jory’s torrid affair with young Daisy, but Daisy had sworn retribution, something she knew she could use and quickly schooled the maid in how to play the part of dutiful, whispering servant.

The pair would have their vengeance. But it was a long game and Y/N didn’t mind parting with the gold dragons Hoster had sent her with to keep an ally. “Who did you say this was from today?”

“Your cousin, Edmure, my lady. Saying that he wishes you well but cannot see your reasoning.”

“Perfect.”

Daisy preened with the praise and helped herself to Y/N’s jug of wine as she usually did when Y/N read her letters.

The seal popped open and left a smear of red across the parchment. It creaked under her grip, like it had been baked and then left to dry in a desert sun.

Your bird has found her way to Sunspear.

The letter took her a moment to understand—her bird? What could that possibly…Sansa.

Y/N pressed the letter to her chest with a relieved sigh. She’d made it—far faster than she anticipated. She quickly read the rest.

Your letter to my brother Doran was a most welcomed surprise. She is unused to the heat but becoming accustomed to it. She is a loved guest—but she understands she cannot fly in certain halls. We do have golden cats here at the palace. House Nymeros Martell will keep her safe until she is ready to fly home.

The sigil stamped at the edge of the brief message was a sun pierced by a spear, standard of the Dornish ruling house, but a red viper was also wrapped around the tip of the weapon—mouth open and hissing.

“Oh little one,” she mused, finger brushing against the snake. “You have found yourself quite a champion.” Whispers of the Red Viper of Dorne had reached even her chambers in Riverrun. Bold, brash, and deadly, she was well aware of the Prince of Dorne. Oberyn. She always thought it a beautiful name. And if the rumors of his eight bastard daughters were true, he must have a face to match. And, if the rumors that he liked the company of both men and women were true, she’d found a kindred spirit.

“Good news, my lady?”

“Very good, Daisy.” She quickly touched the parchment to the flame of a nearby candle and watched it burn and smolder until only the corner was left and the tips of her fingers were near burnt. She scooped the ash into her palm and dumped it out of the window, watching the evidence of their subterfuge disappear in the wind.

The letters continued come at uneven intervals, keeping her informed at how Sansa was faring in Dorne. His missives, however brief, always left her a bit warm in the face.

Your little bird speaks of you often. Of your sweet nature and devotion to your loved ones. I am honored that you have deemed my House worthy or your trust. We will not fail you.

But I do wish to know you; to know your face as I know your heart.

And then another:

Your bird misses you. My brother has taken her under his tutelage and she is flourishing. I grower curiouser and curiouser about you with each passing day.

Words like that were scrawled across each letter she received and she treasured each new one as much as the last and always hated when she had to burn them to ash. They had become a small bright spot to her strange life in the Red Keep. A secret all her own that made her smile without care.

But, she knew she was being watched when she was not in the haven of her rooms. The Mountain had returned from “the Westerlands” and had resumed his place in King’s Landing—but she knew he had been the leader of the band of raiders in the Riverlands all those months ago. He had been the reason she was here in the Red Keep.

And he surely made his presence known.

Ser Gregor seemed keen to keep her within his sights. The Mountain leered at her and was unrepentant when he would make wildly inappropriate comments in highborn company about the shape of her hips or the heaviness of her breasts. Y/N was sure the only reason he had not approached her was because someone with enough power had expressly forbidden him from touching her.

But he was waiting—she knew. She could feel his eyes on her wherever she moved.

It unnerved her to no end. The small blades she had sewn into her dresses and hidden in her chambers gave her a small bit of comfort but she continued to play the part of a woman unaware of the eyes she caught and persisted to find a small amount of joy in her quiet chats with Daisy and her infrequent letters from Dorne or her quiet prayers to the Seven for the safety of her family.

But that was irrevocably torn asunder with new from The Twins.

The Red Wedding, they called it. Whispered the crude name for it in the halls as she passed. She held her head high and kept her tears silent in the darkness of night, soaking her pillow until she exhausted herself. Her cousin Catelyn, her son—her beautiful Robb who had made her laugh when she’d been fostered at Winterfell for two years—gone. Edmure was imprisoned and her father in the wind. Her family…gone in a single night.

It took the Queen and her father three days to summon the last “loyal” Tully to the throne room. Joffrey was there too, perched on the Iron Throne with a sneer. She curtseyed and smiled at them as if she hadn’t felt like a dagger had wedged its way between her ribs and twisted.

“The King in the North is dead,” Joffrey jeered. “Yes, I’ve heard, Your Grace. A great victory.” Her voice was steady.

That was not the emotion Joffrey wanted nor expected because he continued, “your traitor family—wiped out! Dragged to-”

“That is enough, Joffrey,” Tywin said with an even tone as he eyed her, quickly shutting up his grandson.

“What my family did was treasonous and stupid. Rebelling against the Crown was an act of war. Their deaths are only another act of war. Men die, Your Grace. It is better that it happened sooner rather than later for the betterment of the Realm.”

Joffrey seemed placated and looked so much like his mother as he held his nose in the air. “I see you are a reasonable woman. It is a shame your family could not follow your example.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She could feel the bile turn in her stomach and then rising like a terrible wave up her throat. “Is there anything you require of me?”

“The Freys have been raised up to Lords of Riverrun.”

And now something cold gripped her stomach. But what of what Tywin had said just a few suns ago? “Oh.” It was all she could say.

“But,” Tywin continued, “it is only temporary. Until you find a suitable husband.”

“That is very kind, Lord Tywin.” It was not kind. It was a threat. They meant to shackle her to someone they knew was loyal, too. Shaping the Riverlands into another realm under their thumb. And if they thought she was loyal, they would probably assume she would leap at any match they sought to bring.

Cersei, with almost a sincere smile, stepped down a few steps toward her. “We will make sure the match is agreeable to you, Lady Tully. I would not see you married to a brute.”

That was when her chin wobbled, a crack in her mask. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

A brute. A brute. A brute.

All her life, marriage had seemed like some far off arrangement. Her father had never pressed her to marry and Uncle Hoster had avoided it entirely. Being confronted with its inevitability had shaken something in her marrow.

Daisy had told her to spend some time in the market to “buy something overpriced and shiny” for some semblance of happiness.

“I do it all the time when my thoughts fall to my Jory.” Daisy gave her a soft, sad smile but quickly waved it away. “It is why I have so many beautiful things!”

That is how she found herself surrounded by the thrum of King’s Landing, weaving between people as she looked at various stalls of goods and wares and foods. Daisy had left her side a few moments ago to barter with some woman over a filigreed hair pin. She was in need of a new inks and parchment and possibly a pair of earrings to wear to the wedding ceremony in just a few days. Finding the ink and parchment was easy—and the ink was a pretty blue, almost the Tully shade and she had swiftly purchased three wells of it. Daisy flittered by for a moment to check on her before disappearing into the crowds again.

As she looked over the various “shiny things” Daisy insisted she look at, Y/N collided with someone. The scent of citrus and foreign, floral perfume engulfed her in a cloud as she was caught at the wrists and saved from falling to the cobblestone street.

“Forgive me, my lady,” she quickly said as she righted herself, not even looking at the woman she had nearly toppled. “I must take care to look where I am going.”

A delightful laugh pulled her attention and her tongue quickly glued itself to the roof of her mouth. The woman in front of her was stunning. Dark, luscious hair tied in a loose braid, away from her sharp, unfairly beautiful features, and draped in shades of orange and yellow which only highlighted the tan tone of her skin. She was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Cousin Edmure, if he was at her side, would have surely nudged her by now, used to how she would become tongue-tied around women. The Tullys had been aware of her partiality to women—Edmure had once caught her being kissed by one of their sworn houses’ ladies in the dim light of Riverrun’s halls and had simply sighed. She had always been drawn to both men and women. It was just that it seemed like beautiful women greatly outnumbered the men she could tolerate.

And now she was basically awestruck by this woman.

“I am no lady,” the woman said. “And I do believe it was I who stumbled into you.”

The man behind the stall they were standing in front of loudly cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, silently telling them to buy something or move.

The woman laughed again and grabbed Y/N’s hand and led her down the nearest alleyway and leaned against the cool stone of the building as she released her hold. A basket of flowers was tucked under her arm and golden, swirling earrings dripped from her ears. “You are a quiet one, aren’t you?”

“N-no, I just…”

“Have never seen a Dornishman before?” The woman supplied, head tilted to the side with a soft smile.

“No, I mean. I have, but you are very—what did you mean, ‘I am no lady’?” She quickly stopped her poor stumbling and bit at her bottom lip, trying to will the embarrassment away.

“I am a bastard. Born of passion.”

“Oh.” She paused. And then held out her hand. “I’m Y/N Tully.” Being a bastard or low-born mattered very little to Y/N. Her mother’s own low-born, foreign standing had been held over her head for as long as she had remembered. It wasn’t fair. Her parents loved each other, loved her. It was a mindset that made her differ from most of her peer group but she did not mind. (Even when her cousin Catelyn had told her that Jon Snow, Eddard’s bastard, was not to be associated with. She had found him great company and loved his soft, low voice when they would speak in the cover of moonlight at Winterfell. It all seemed like ages ago, now.)

The woman paused, eyebrow cocked, before she smiled and took her hand, soft, long fingers curling around her own and Y/N shivered. “Ellaria Sand.”

“What brings you to King’s Landing?” She asked, finding her footing with speaking with the woman—finally. “Surely it is not the markets. I have heard the bazaars of the Shadow City are one of the wonders of the Seven Kingdoms.” She lowered her voice. “And I assume Dorne smells much better.”

Ellaria laughed. “It does. That is why I came to the markets.” She held up her basket of flowers. “For something sweet to smell in my rooms while I am in the capital.” Roses and lavender and little red flowers known as dragons breath were piled high and already smelled sweet and fragrant.

“Wonderful choices. I have resorted to keeping perfumed oil under my nose.” She grimaced at revealing her silly secret. “But I shall not keep you any longer. My apologies for pulling you from your day.”

Ellaria pulled a rose from her bundle and quickly plucked the thorns and cut the stem before tucking it behind the younger woman’s ear. “Apologize for nothing, Lady Tully.” She stood straight and smiled, making her poor heart flutter. “I shall see you again.” And then she walked away, leaving Y/N with a flower in her hair and her heart in her throat.

Olenna was sitting behind a dark wood desk as Y/N was led into her chambers. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains and the room smelled of cinnamon and tea. She waved a hand, signaling the younger woman to sit at the chair across from her and for the servant to leave. As the door closed, Olenna offered her a bowl of berries which she quickly helped herself to with a soft ‘thank you’ and matching smile.

“I will be frank. I know the Lannisters wish to marry you off to some oaf of a man who will do anything they say.”

She choked on a berry.

“You are a smart girl, Little Fish. Far smarter than you let anyone see.”

“Lady Olenna-”

“You have helped my family, let us help you. While I would prefer to present you to Willas, he is heir to Highgarden and Tywin Lannister is sure he would see you as the Lady of Riverrun. We will present Loras as a potential suitor for you. He would make a fine husband for you and I know you will understand his leanings.”

Without a berry to choke on, she now wheezed out a breath. Ser Loras’ leanings were an open secret to many. While it did not bother Y/N any, she didn’t understand the logic. “I am failing to see how this will help my cause.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at women—far more often than you look at men. You are not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

“Hm.” Was all She could say. Denying it was a fruitless and draining endeavor. Olenna seemed to be at peace with Loras and his proclivity for the male form so she didn’t see the need.

“So, you two could put to rest any sort of whispers and then reign in the Riverlands without the press of the Lannisters at your throats.”

“And of children? Heirs?” Children had always been a hope for her, not out of duty but she had always wanted a little one to hold and call her own.

“I’m sure you two could work something out,” Olenna tittered. “You’re resourceful.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh. “I will take your offer into consideration, my lady.”

Olenna waved her away with a small smile and Y/N left her rooms feeling a little strange. It was a blessing to have an ally such as Olenna Tyrell, but knowing that she would not truly see or help in the goal to see the Lannisters wiped from existence left something sour in her mouth.

The only true allies she could identify, outside of her family, were the Martells.

Just the thought of Sansa being safe—being alive—usually had her standing a little straighter. And now she had Oberyn, the faceless-but-surely-handsome Oberyn, to lift her spirits, too. It had been some time since his last letter, stating that Sansa had taken to reading to his youngest daughter, Loreza. It seemed Sansa had found a happy life in Dorne.

She just hoped she could make it last.

She rounded the corner, nearly at her chambers when the familiar scraping of metal against stone stopped her. It was the Sabaton and Greave of a heavy armor, stomping through the halls of the Keep. And she knew who those steps belonged to—only one man could shake the ground like that.

“Tully.”

She froze.

Gregor Clegane stood at end of the hall, just in front of her chamber door with his helmet shoved beneath his arm. He sneered as he looked at her and, despite the distance between them, she felt like she could feel him breathing, sticky and disgusting, against her neck.

“Clegane.” She spit out the name. Her heart was thundering behind her ribs in an angry beat. The very sight of him made her wish for a blade. While Sandor was (reluctantly) kind at heart, there was nothing redeemable about his older brother. His three dead wives, the suspicious death of his younger sister, Sandor’s mutilating burn. All of it was Gregor. His soul was charred ash.

His face split in a sneer. “You have been hiding from me, girl.”

She held up her chin, defiant. “I hide from nothing. Certainly not a mindless sword such as you.”

His sneer disappeared, lips curling to bare his teeth, yellow and crooked. “I’ve killed men for less.”

“I’m sure you have. But not me.” Her fists curled into the skirts of her dress, slick with sweat. “You will never touch me.”

“I will break you, girl. Have you screaming beneath me like a common whore.”

“Lady Tully!” Tywin Lannister strode into the hall, light eyes focused solely on her.

And she had never been so thankful to see the old lion. “Lord Tywin.”

His gaze turned to The Mountain and his thin lips pressed into a hard line. “You are dismissed, Ser Gregor.”

The knight bowed and walked away, but not without raking his eyes over her one last time. She tried not to shiver as her stomach rolled in disgust.

“He is a fine swordsman but an embarrassment to high-born company.”

That was an understatement. “How may I help you, Lord Tywin? I assumed the Small Council was still in congress at this hour.”

“We adjourned early.” He stepped closer and she had to will herself to not take a step back out of reflex. Just as she was with Gregor, she was alone with Tywin Lannister. She had traded one monster for another. “Walk with me.” He grasped her arm and gave her very little choice in the matter, almost dragging her through the stone halls. “His Grace’s wedding to Margaery Tyrell is in a few short days. As you will be the only member of your household attending, I would deem it wise to have you sit at the head table, at our side. It would not be appropriate for you to be unattended.”

The fact that he seemed to believe his own logic was infuriating. It was only exacerbated by the fact that she could not refute it. But she knew there was more than her propriety at stake. “That is most gracious, Lord Tywin. But would it be polite? I am not of His Grace’s family nor a Tyrell.”

Tywin stopped and forced her to do the same. He turned to her and his cold fingers slid down her arms, barely touching before he grasped her hands and held them up, just under his chin so she could feel his breath against her fingers. “Your concern for my family’s reputation is honorable, Lady Tully. But I insist. You will sit beside us.” He looked her in the eye and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before releasing her hands.

She quickly curtseyed. “Of course, Lord Tywin. As you wish.”

“Wonderful.” He drew out the syllables. “I have one other gift for you. I would have you attend the Small Council meetings so that you may learn how to properly govern Riverrun when we seat you on your ancestral throne.”

The invitation was shocking. Very few women were privy to such gatherings and she knew, in any other life, that she would be enamored with the idea and anyone who offered it so openly. But this was Tywin Lannister. And Lannisters always pay their debts. But he was never going to let her refuse. She knew it. “It would be an honor, Lord Tywin. I thank you for the guidance.”

He smirked, as if knowing he’d won, and they said their goodbyes before she quickly walked to her chambers, desperate for her original destination. She flung open the door and then quickly locked it behind her. Hot, angry tears blurred her vision as she leaned her forehead against the wood. They slid down her cheeks in thick rivulets and only served to make her angrier. She pushed away from the door and flopped onto her bed with a huff, feeling very much like a child—petulant and powerless.

Everything was quickly slipping away from her and out of her control. All of it, all of the placating gestures, the twisting of her morals to survive to help Sansa escape, the planning. All of it. All of it was falling apart. She should have left with Sansa. Everything would have been easier. She curled a pillow into tried to will herself to sleep.

“Will you be my champion, Ser Aemon?” She tried to make her voice airy and breathy, how she assumed Queen Naerys had spoken. They were deep in the wolfswood outside Winterfell. But the colors were wrong. Instead of the cold tones of white and grey and brown, everything was red and gold and orange, like she was seeing it through candlelight. She watched as her younger-self placed a crown of twisted branches over her head with a giggle she tried to suppress. Both of them were just past their one-and-ten nameday and had taken to making mischief as often as they could. Their favorite stories were of Queen Naerys and Ser Aemon, the Dragonknight. Their history was filled with tales of valor and heartache--perfect fodder for their growing imaginations.

Robb kneeled in front of her, taking his role very seriously. “Yes, my queen.”

Young Y/N stifled another giggle but quickly attempted to regain her composure, staying in her role. “Arise, my Dragonknight.”

Robb did as he was told, fighting a smile of his own before they both burst into a fit of laughter. Y/N took the wooden sword from its place on a broken stump and handed it to him with a flourish and he grasped it and held it aloft, yelling into the cold, morning air as if he had already won a great battle. His cheeks were flushed against the cold but his lips were warm as he pressed them against her hand. She could remember it all so easily. “I shall avenge your honor, my queen. I swear it.”

“Lord Robb!” Maester Luwin called out, voice echoing in the forest. It echoed and echoed and echoed and grew louder until all it was, was a roar that shook the trees.

Robb suddenly grabbed her hand and started tugging her through the trees. “Run, my queen. Or we’ll be forced to suffer more Valyrian lessons!” The trees twisted as the pair ran away, forming a wall and climbing higher and higher into the sky until it blotted out the sun. Then the trees twisted and reached out to her and their wooden fingers circled her throat and choked the air from her lungs.

As she woke with a gasp and the dying light now filtering through her small window, she could still hear Robb’s laughter ringing in her ears.

The Small Council Chamber was nothing she had dreamt of when she had let herself believe she could one day be powerful. It was just a stone room with a few windows and a large table. She counted the chairs and frowned when she couldn’t place all the titles that went with each.

“You are early.”

She leapt at the sound of the voice and quickly turned at curtseyed in front of Cersei who smirked and settled herself into the chair closest to the head seat. “I wanted to be sure I was not late, Your Grace. It is a great honor to be invited.”

Cersei looked at her and her smirk widened. “Yes. It is, isn’t it? I asked my lord father to invite you. When the Riverlands are yours to govern, we would not have you mishandle them.” She pulled out the chair beside her. “Sit.”

She quickly did. “I do not want to disappoint you, Your Grace. But, would it be imprudent for me to take notes? To see how the duties are presented.” There was a bit of parchment and ink she could use, sitting on the edge of the table. Cersei nodded and Y/N had to will herself not to scramble for it. While this invitation would surely be used against her at a later date, there was no use in completely forgetting what happened in the chamber. “While we are waiting, Your Grace, may I fetch you anything?”

“The last time you went to fetch me wine, Lady Tully, you nearly died. I would have you close for now.”

The quill in her hand nearly snapped at that, even if delivered in Cersei’s usual droll. An admission of somewhat reluctant care for her well-being had not been what she had hoped to earn when she woke this morn, but it was definitely a welcome surprise, even if it did make her all the more suspicious of the Lannisters’ intentions. All she said in response was, “Yes, Your Grace.”

And Cersei seemed fine with that.

Other men filtered in, casting questioning looks in Y/N’s direction but never voiced them as they looked at Cersei at her side.

Well, except for Grand Maester Pycelle. “Are you lost, Lady Tully? This is no place for a lady!”

“I requested her presence.” Everyone scrambled to their feet as Tywin entered the chamber. “She is to see how a functioning government is kept.” Tywin looked at her as he took his seat and she quickly glanced down at her empty bits of parchment.

Pycelle muttered something else under his breath but took his seat and cast a side-eyed glance at Y/N one more time before the meeting actually started.

Soon, the parchment was filled with notes and she was scrambling to tidy them as the meeting was adjourned. To his credit, it seemed like Tywin was the only one who knew how to have a functioning council but it was still a mess. But perhaps he intended it to be like that—so he could be the smartest man in the room.

“My lord,” she started as the others had started to leave. “I noticed there are more seats than people. Will there be more lords on the council after the wedding?”

Tywin looked at the empty chairs and then back at her, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Everything is a piece to played, my lady. You’ll see.”

He escorted her back to her rooms and left her with another kiss to her hand and a promise to invite her back to the Small Council “soon.” And she was happy to be alone again. Daisy had been excused after helping her dress and ready for the day, leaving her by herself.

It had been almost two weeks since she’d received her last letter from Dorne. It was probably for the best; it wasn’t as if she had any family left to write to her so it would be suspicious if she had received a letter from the Riverlands now. She hoped Sansa and Oberyn were well. Safe. Happy. All of it. If she couldn’t have it, she hoped someone else could. When she was feeling particularly melancholy, she would pull the rose she’d received from the mysterious and beautiful Ellaria from its hiding spot under her carefully, gently folded chemises and press it under her nose. The scent was faint now, but it still brought a smile to her face. (She had never actually found the earrings she was searching for that day.) After the meeting, she had stayed to the quiet of her rooms instead of the godswood. The chattering from the guests arriving for the wedding in the gardens had bled into that small haven and forced her retreat if she wanted to save her sanity. She was reading a book on the War of the Ninepenny Kings when there was a knock at her door. She grumbled and placed her book down before walking to the door and hauling it open, prepared to see some Lannister or Tyrell handmaiden requesting her presence somewhere—but instead, she saw a handsome young man with black hair pulled into a small bun on the back of his head. His robes were tan with golden thread with a burnt orange undershirt left open. “Lady Tully,” he said, a soft accent touching her ears. “I have a delivery for you. From Dorne.” His smile was small, but knowing. “Prince Oberyn send his regards, my lady.” Before she could even thank him, he disappeared and left an ornate chest just on the inside of her chamber door. The chest was of a reddish wood, inlaid with golden suns and thick, bold metal strappings. It smelled faintly of citrus and was slick with a fine varnish.

Before she could even open the chest, Daisy had scurried into her rooms, cheeks flush with worry. “The Queen is on her way, my lady.”

And she was right, Cersei arrived soon with a thinly veiled look of curiosity in her green eyes as she looked at the chest. “A gift from Dorne?”

Y/N and Daisy quickly curtseyed as Y/N easily thought of a lie. “Not quite, Your Grace. I wanted to have the finest gown for His Grace’s wedding to Lady Margaery, behind yours of course. And my dresses are much more suited for the climate of the Riverlands. The seamstresses in the capital were all far too busy for my liking and I wanted to be sure that I would not embarrass myself with a poorly-hewn frock.”

“My seamstress could have found room for you.”

She pressed a look of shock to her face. “Your Grace is far too charitable. I have taken enough of your time and resources when my family has caused the Crown such irksome troubles.”

Cersei looked pleased with her answer, nose held a little higher in the air. “You are a credit to your bloodline, Y/N. But do ask for her when the next opportunity arises. I would not have you dressed like a Dornish tart.”

Anger rolled her stomach but she smiled as if she had been complimented. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will.”

Cersei excused herself and Daisy finally lifted her head from its tuck to her chest and she softly shut the door, rolling her eyes the entire time.

“Help me to unseal this.”

Daisy quickly did as she was told and they attempted to pry it open but were unsuccessful until Y/N gave in and pulled a knife from under her featherbed and cut the seal.

“Oh…my lady. That is a mighty fine dress.”

And it was. Nestled in the chest was a soft, sunshine yellow samite dress of a Dornish style. It would show off an ample amount of cleavage with a near-scandalous neckline but did preserve most of her modesty with long bell sleeves made of matching Myrish lace. Small, golden suns were stitched throughout along with silver stars and moons, and she knew a train of modest length would follow her even with her heeled shoes. It seemed her lie had been prophetic.

Daisy bent and pulled something else from the chest: a neatly folded bit of parchment.

Y/N carefully set her dress on her bed before taking the letter. She unfolded it and laughed even as more heat took to her cheeks.

So that I may know you on sight.

The familiar viper was pressed to the corner in red ink.

The date of the wedding had arrived and she grew more nervous with each passing moment, even as Daisy attempted to make her laugh as she helped her into her dress and uncomfortable heeled boots.

“You are not the bride, my lady. Cease your shaking.” Daisy grasped at one of her hands and squeezed. “And if the whispers I hear are true, your Prince had been in the capital for a few days now.”

“You are not helping, Daisy. Why would that information give me comfort?”

The girl laughed and finished lacing the black closure of the dress with a flourish. “You are finished. Lady Margaery has asked for you in the Maidenvault. You must hurry.”

She squeezed Daisy’s hands in thanks and told her to help herself to the wine and relax in her chambers for the rest of the day before leaving and quickly making her way to the Maidenvault. It was awash with Tyrell green and gold and nearly vibrating with energy as women went this way and that, preparing for the ceremony.

“You’ve made it!” Margaery exclaimed, seeing her through the crowd.

She quickly made her way to the side of the soon-to-be-queen and curtseyed. “How may I help you-”

“You look quite beautiful. Dornish, is it not?” Margaery reached out and trailed a finger across one of the suns just above her breast. If she felt her poor heart leap, Margaery blessedly didn’t mention it.

“It is.”

“Nearly scandalous,” Margaery said with a wink.

And Y/N nearly snorted at that—Margaery’s dresses were, largely, much more bold.

“But don’t change. It will be nice to see some color beside red and gold on my wedding day.” Maegaery squeezed her hands and then scowled as a handmaiden shoved a pin into her hair.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Y/N said, noticing how Margaery preened with the title, “I was told you asked me here for a reason.”

Margaery smiled again. “Yes, I wanted to personally ask you to save a dance for my brother, Ser Loras. He has been asking to make your acquaintance for some time now.” The twinkle in her eye did little to settle the knots in Y/N’s stomach. Almost everyone in the entire room, and there were quite a few, had taken a look at her then, at the mention of Loras’ name.

“I would be delighted, Your Grace.”

Margaery suddenly pulled her into a hug, ignoring the squawk her handmaiden let out as she had just about placed another pin, and held her tight. “You’ve made me very happy, Little Fish.”

“I am glad to hear it. It is your wedding day, after all,” Y/N said as she pulled back. “Now, you must excuse me.”

“Of course,” Margaery said, still smiling. “I shall see you in a moment.”

Y/N quickly exited, ignoring the strange looks she was receiving on her way out form the Tyrell retinue, and made her way toward the Great Sept of Baelor, filling in with the crowds and finding her place. It was more toward the front of the crowd than she had anticipated and her thoughts once again turned to how the Lannisters were planning something. At least with the Tyrells, she knew whom she could expect. Lords and Ladies from the Westerlands were at her back and was soon greeted by Ser Kevan Lannister and his wife, Lady Dorna Swyft in her row. They greeted her warmly, mentioning how both Cersei and Tywin mentioned her and she did her best to act pleased.

A flash of gold caught her eye a few rows ahead and she turned to see a golden headdress, rows of golden chain looped together, placed over a head of shiny, inky black hair. It was preposterous to believe it could be Ellaria, she knew. But, oh, she hoped. The man next to the woman with the golden headdress was handsome, from what she could see of his face. A strong nose and pouty lips that smiled as he looked at his companion and he was draped in a soft tan fabric that shimmered only slightly when the sunlight hit it just so. Perhaps it was Oberyn. Again, a fanciful thought. But his letter and the dress had made his intention clear that he would be at the wedding and there, of course, had been the usual whispers that Prince Oberyn had travelled in Prince Doran’s stead to represent Dorne during the festivities. He could and should be here.

“It is a marvelous moment, no?” Kevan asked, whispering in her ear. “The dawn of a new era.”

“Indeed,” Y/N said as the soft music started, signaling the arrival of the bride. “It is.”

It was a pleasant surprise to see she was to be seated beside Tyrion and Tommen at the festivities following the ceremony. While still Lannisters, they were decidedly the best of the brood. Tyrion made her laugh and Tommen was kind.

“Have you tried the boar, my prince? It is quite good.”

Tommen speared some of the meat from her plate with a playful smile as Tyrion softly, fondly chided him. “It is good, my lady.” The young prince quickly stole another bite.

“My lady,” Tyrion started as he stood from his chair, “would you be so kind as to join me for the next dance?” He held out a hand toward her with a small smile.

She did not want to. Not because of his stature but because of his family and how it echoed in her mind that the Lannisters were set on marrying her off. He was kind, it was true, but that did not make this easier. “Of course, Lord Tyrion.” She stood and grasped his hand, letting him lead her away from the large red and gold tent and into the fray of couples arranging themselves in two lines as the musicians readied for the next song.

The music started and she quickly tried to remember the steps that this dance required. A few steps forward toward her partner then a turn to the side to grasp a hand, turn once, twice, then step back and the partner on the left would step to the side and the dance would begin again with a new partner, again and again, until the entire line had been turned and the original partners were reunited again. For what it was worth, Y/N had to admit that Tyrion chose a smart dance to share with her—they hardly touched or spent any time looking at each other. Almost as if he knew her discomfort.

He bowed to her and she to him and they began the dance. He was mindful not to step on her gown as they circled each other and he gave her another fond smile before they switched partners. There was an older Lord from the Stormlands, followed by a knight from the Westerlands and then a familiar green and gold brocade gathered her attention as she stepped in front of her next partner.

Ser Loras looked relieved as he recognized her. “Lady Tully.”

“Ser Loras.” He was undoubtedly handsome, with his soft blonde curls and dancing, blue eyes and Y/N could let herself pretend, for a moment that she could be happy being married off to someone like him— strictly aesthetically, anyway. “I have been told to save you a dance by our new queen.”

He laughed as he grasped her hand and they turned. “Would you?”

“Yes, Ser Loras. I’d be happy to.”

He smiled again and they finished their turn before the next partner came. The dance eventually finished and Tyrion took her hand again and led her back to their table. Tommen now had a heaping pile of the boar on his plate and was devouring it. She stole a bite from his plate and he laughed. His laughter, however, drew the eye of Cersei and Tywin Lannister.

They both looked at her at the far table and she pretended not to notice as she laughed with Tommen and let Tyrion fill her chalice with more wine. It would be better if they didn’t think she was putting on a show.

Another set of musicians stepped up in front of Joffrey and Margaery and played another round of ‘The Rains of Castamere.’ It had been the fifth one already and it was hardly an hour into the festivities. Joffrey lobbed a handful of coin at them and sent them on their way.

Another song for the dancing couples went by, and another followed. The wine was making her head swim the smallest bit as she spotted Loras making his way toward her. Olenna was at his side, required to make the introduction for niceties sake and then they were off.

The musicians called out the dance and Y/N had to arch an eyebrow at Loras. This one would keep her close, almost intimate, but still playful enough that it wouldn’t be imprudent for mixed company. He shrugged and held her hands in his, easily guiding her through the steps. “Surely you know what they’re planning,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh yes. We could make quite a match.” She twirled under his arm, following the steps, and let herself be caught in his arms, her back to his chest as the dance continued. “But why would you agree to such a thing, Loras?” Her voice was low. “King Renly…” Words had to be chosen carefully. “You loved him. I’ve heard tales about it. Why would you tether yourself to someone you could never love?”

The knight’s grip tightened just a fraction. “When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”

And her heart broke with the pain in his voice. Thankfully, the dance needed her to turn and face him, placing her hands over one of his shoulders as she kicked, letting her dress flutter and glisten in the sunlight. “We can be friends, can we not? To find some happiness in this arrangement?”

He smiled then and almost laughed as she nearly missed a step. “I would like that, very much.”

They finished the dance, her heart a little lighter than it had been and he gently took her hand and started to lead her toward her table before she noticed him blushing. Y/N tried to find where he was looking and found Ellaria hand-feeding berries to the most beautiful man she had ever seen. It was a wonderful surprise to realize the woman she had been ogling during the ceremony had been Ellaria. But who was the man? Seeing him in the sunlight, completely, was beautiful. Just as beautiful as Ellaria. No wonder they seemed so besotted with each other.

“That is Prince Oberyn,” Loras whispered in her ear. “Gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“He is.” Why lie? Anyone with eyes could see how he was meant to be painted, immortalized for everyone to revere.

“Shall I introduce you? I made his acquaintance earlier today.” There was a slight shyness to Loras’ tone that made her smile. He was like a little boy with an infatuation.

And she would finally meet him. But would their easy companionship filter over from their letters? Nerves had twisted her stomach when she thought of Oberyn not deeming her worthy of his beautiful word any longer. “I would be grateful.”

Loras led her through the crowd and Ellaria spotted them first. A happy smile touched her lips and she whispered something in Oberyn’s ear. He let his gaze slowly slide over to them, almost disinterested but she could see the playful glint in his eyes. And his own smile widened when he looked at her. Ellaria slid off his lap and walked over to them, dragging Y/N from Loras’ side.

“Finally. Someone worth speaking to.” She pressed a kiss to both of Y/N’s quickly warming cheeks and tugged her toward the table. “Come, Ser Loras. You can join us.”

Loras awkwardly sat across from Oberyn as Ellaria planted Y/N between herself and Oberyn, a hand already fond of tracing the suns stitched into her dress. “I was unaware you knew Lady Tully.”

“We met in the market. She has yet to meet my prince.”

“Yes, well, Prince Oberyn, I present-”

“Lady Tully. Yes.” He grasped one of her hands and brought it to his mouth to kiss the tips of her fingers, somehow making a shiver shoot down her spine as he never broke eye contract. “I have heard of you. And that is a fine dress. Dornish, isn’t it?” He smiled at the last question.

“It is—I’ve never had such a beautiful dress. I’m very fortunate. And, of course, it is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Oberyn. I hope your travels to the capital were pleasant.” Y/N was proud of herself for keeping her voice so steady despite his piercing stare. Perhaps it was the hidden joke, the secret in their verbal volley who made her a little more at ease. None of her nerves had been proven correct just yet. And she hoped they never would.

“The Capital is never pleasant, and the journey was tedious. But the company, it seems, to have finally evolved into something enjoyable.” He then smirked at Loras and pulled a berry from the bowl in front of him and tossed it into his mouth.

Loras’ pretty cheeks filled with pink and he averted his eyes and the cogs in Y/N’s mind quickly started to turn. “Ellaria, I have heard there is quite a display of Lysene contortionists somewhere around here. Shall we let the men talk?”

Ellaria laughed and let a finger trail across Y/N’s cheek. “I know exactly where these contortionists are. I will show you.” She stood and Y/N followed and they linked arms as they set off away from the dancing couples and the food tables. Ellaria’s hand covered hers as it rested on her arm. “That was very kind of you, my lady. To let Oberyn have his fun with that pretty knight.”

“Yes, well,” Y/N chanced a glance over her shoulder to see that Loras had switched to the other side of the table and Oberyn was whispering something in his ear, “it seemed Loras had been a bit smitten and who am I to stand in the way of that?”

“You do not mind that he likes both? My Oberyn?” The question was asked quietly, Ellaria’s lips close to her ear.

“I like both. It is comforting to know there is another like me.” And it felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest to finally say it aloud. Of course, the Tullys knew of it, but they had very little patience to understand it so she had been forced to only live it in shadowed corners. And when she had moved to King’s Landing, it wasn’t an option for her to explore. There was an easy air about Ellaria, open and honest. That is perhaps why Y/N had felt so nonplussed to reveal her own secret.

“More than just Oberyn,” Ellaria said, her grip tightening just a fraction.

And Y/N’s heart leapt and bounced. “Truly?” The word was almost strangled from her throat as they neared the area of the fire-breathers and contortionists and jugglers, slipping through a display of the gifts the Brat King had received from his guests.

“You are not alone,” Ellaria whispered with a teasing smile. But then another question had Ellaria’s brow arching. “And what of your thoughts of loving more than one?”

“More than one person at a time? I have not loved one person. I would not know how to love two.” She frowned as she thought of it. There was love for her family, and a companionable affection for people like Daisy. But love? Real, romantic love? It had always been a distant daydream. Stolen kisses in shadows from pretty ladies and the occasional second son of a lord was as close as she had ever come to it.

“There is love in your heart, I know it. Can feel it. Passion waiting to be unleashed.” They turned a corner and a burst of fire greeted them. They had found their destination. The fire-breather danced away, leaving the scent of smoke and ash behind. “In Dorne, we embrace our passion. Lords and ladies have their paramours and lovers and take what they want.” She let her fingers trail down to take Y/N’s hand and raised it to her lips and kissed the pads of her fingers, just as Oberyn had done a moment ago.

Y/N swallowed the hard lump in her throat as Ellaria’s dark eyes lifted to meet hers. “Dorne sounds like a paradise.”

“It can be. If one has the right soul for it.” The older woman stood straight and continued to lead her toward the tables filled with contortionists.

“Do I?” Y/N asked. Could she be happy in a place like Dorne, unfettered by the social constructs she’d been born into?

Ellaria looked at her and smiled, wolfish and hungry. She said nothing and pulled her along to see the men and women twist and turn in almost unnatural ways and would murmur the position names in her ear like an illicit secret.

All of it was bubbling into something strange under Y/N’s skin, making her warm with each passing syllable and each new position they encountered only coiled something tighter until they were all a blur in her mind and all she could hear was Ellaria’s melodic hum in her ear and smell her perfume. Y/N was not so innocent to not understand that she was roused and yearning for some indelicate headiness, but she had never before been so close to achieving it. Only her own fingers had given her reprieve in the past but now Ellaria was staring at her like a tiger faced with a meal and she couldn’t wait to be devoured.

“Come. Surely there is a quiet place for you to catch your breath.” Ellaria had not let go of her hand yet and it seemed unlikely she would do so now as they walked through the masses, slipping out of the festival grounds and into the gardens. It was decidedly quieter but the music from the bards and musicians and the laughter of the crowds still filtered through the greenery, now muted and soft. The pair walked for a moment before finding a corner with a stone wall in the shadows, a reprieve from the heat of the sun.

And, as Y/N went to thank her companion for the respite, Ellaria pushed her against a wall and pressed her mouth to hers and stole her breath. Coaxing her mouth was easy and Ellaria almost laughed as Y/N whined against her lips. The quiet desperation that she had felt was now bursting forth as Ellaria easily coaxed her lips apart and delved her tongue into her mouth.

“Responsive, that’s good,” Ellaria hummed as he broke for a moment. Her hands slid from the other woman’s shoulders down her sides to grab handfuls of the yellow fabric at her hips and dragged her waist closer and wedging a thigh between hers. A choked breath pushed through Y/N’s lips at the delicious pressure against her core. “You taste so sweet.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N gasped, not knowing what she was begging for. To stop. To never stop. “Please.”

Ellaria suddenly grabbed at the back of Y/N’s neck to pull her head closer, angling her abruptly so she could kiss her thoroughly, devour her with spit-slicked lips and smiling teeth and dominating every sense she had despite Y/N’s some-what apparent lack of experience. And Y/N could have sworn she’d never felt such ecstasy in a touch like this—until Ellaria trailed her fingers against Y/N’s heaving chest, feeling the warmth she exuded and how soft her skin was before dipping beneath the fabric to cup Y/N’s breast and this time she did laugh as Y/N gasped again. She kneaded her and felt Y/N’s heart hammering and racing as she continued to draw whines and whimpers from her pretty little mouth. Deft fingers found her pebbled nipple and circled and tugged again and again before once again starting her slow torture of simply massaging the tortured flesh.

Y/N’s hands tried to find purchase in anything, the cold stone behind her, the fabric of Ellaria’s dress, but finally grabbed at Ellaria’s neck so she could thread her fingers into the hair at the back of her head, barely mindful of the golden chains in her locks, and hold her close—she needed her closer.

“You sing so prettily for me,” Ellaria said as her nose trailed against Y/N’s cheek, her other hand still anchored around her neck. “I’ve barely touched you.” A final squeeze to her chest and then her fingers retreated…only to start to trail down toward her skirts. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” Y/N blindly answered. “Touch me.”

“Oh.”

Y/N instantly stiffened at being caught, her own hands pulling away from the other woman.

“That will have to wait, I’m afraid,” came a voice just over Ellaria’s shoulder.

Ellaria’s lovely touch withdrew and she carefully pulled Y/N’s dress back to cover her chest with a wink before she turned, almost leisurely, to see who had stumbled upon them.

Loras was blushing a pretty shade of red and looking steadfastly up into the clouds while Oberyn simply smirked at the pair of women. The sight was a welcome one—surely these two could keep a secret.

“You’ve nearly made a mess of our young Lady Tully, my love,” Oberyn said as he stepped forward to grasp at Ellaria’s hand and he tugged her close to press a slow kiss against her lips. “And does she taste as pretty as she looks?”

“She does,” Ellaria agreed as she looked back at Y/N who was still pressed against the garden wall. “A taste from the source would be much sweeter.” The innuendo was not lost on anyone present.

“I’m sure it would.” Oberyn’s hand curled around Ellaria’s hip and he drew her closer. “But that will have to wait. Her absence has been noted by too many.”

Y/N sagged with the news. It had to have been the Lannisters. No one else would mind if she disappeared with a fellow guest for a few moments at a celebration such as this. “Thank you for finding us first, my prince.” She brushed her hands against her skirts to help them lay flat and straightened her shoulders before pressing the back of her hand to her cheeks to help them cool before starting to walk toward the banquet again. Only to be stopped by a roughened hand on her arm. Oberyn’s grip was not hard, she knew she could wriggle out of it without any effort.

“Your appearance will not keep a secret in that state, my lady.” Then, without much fanfare or warning, he started to gently right her mussed clothes and straightened the filigreed back across the top of her head to once again give her the air of a civilized lady.

His touch was always gentle, taking care to never pull or tug too harshly, and Y/N felt her heart trying to escape her chest for the second time that day and leap into the hands of a Dornishman. She tried to focus on the golden chain around his neck instead of staring at his face but then all she managed to do was appreciate his defined chest and how he smelled like ripe berries and sandalwood with a touch of spice she could not place. His full lips were parted and nearly pursed as he worked, making them ever more tempting and she felt foolish to even let such a thought cross her mind when she hardly knew him.

But, she hardly knew Ellaria who had her panting like a whore only moments earlier. He was every bit as entrancing as Ellaria, she was rue to admit. His gentle touch only exacerbated how flustered she felt. The pair was dangerous.

“Shall I pass inspection, my prince?” She asked, clasping her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking as he finished.

“Tell them you’ve been enjoying the less polite entertainment if they ask where you’ve gone, my lady.” It was said with a smirk and his thumb brushed against her bottom lip, making her shiver again.

“Thank you for the guidance.” She bid them adieu and squeezed Loras’ arm as she walked away and rejoined the festivities.

A/N: All right...so, that’s part one. I’ve tried to draw on a few plot lines from the books that didn’t make it into the television series, but if you have any questions, please just ask. I welcome feedback. The next chapter will (hopefully) be shorter and out soon. Cross your fingers.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn x ellaria x reader #oberyn x ellaria #game of thrones #asoiaf

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takonei · 3 years

Text

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 6, Investigation (Part 3)

Note of the author: jfc this investigation is long. But that’s to expect from chapter 6. Also: Updated the warning list. Please check before reading.

Also I apologize for the terrible formatting at a certain point in the chapter. Tumblr is a bitch. If it really bothers you, I suggest reading on AO3.

Chapter 6: My killing game, our killing game

...

Miu and Shuichi stared at each other.

"So... What is even left to investigate in this room?" Shuichi looked around.

The wall with Motherkuma was covered, Kokichi and Kirumi were taking care of the computer, and all that was left was, well, a kitchen. A simple trashcan, a fridge, and several cupboards.

Miu shrugged. "Well, I would hate myself if some clues were hidden in this section and we ignored them because we said 'who would hide major clues in the fridge?', if you know what I mean."

She started making her way there. Shuichi blinked, a bit confused by her statement. Who would even hide evidence in a fridge?!

But perhaps she was right. He could try to look up in those strange places.

He opened a cupboard to see packs of coffee and different types of food: Almonds, dry nuts, and other non-sugary snacks. Whoever owned this place clearly didn't have a sweet tooth.

"Why the hell are there hard drugs in the fridge??"

Shuichi immediately turned around to see Miu holding what looked like a blister of tablets. "What do you mean 'hard drugs'?!"

She looked just as confused. "I don't know, there are dozens of them in the fridge, that's the last thing I expected to see here."

He approached the fridge to see what she was talking about. And true to her words, dozens of blisters were placed there. He could only stare wide-eyed at the questionable sight.

Miu sighed. "I am seriously wondering what the hell is going on in the mastermind's head."

"For now let's just... Put it back where it was." Shuichi said.

Obtained truth bullet! Drugs in the fridge

He closed the fridge, then turned back to his friend.

Miu shook her head. "Anyway, let's just- let's just investigate somewhere else!"

It was clear she was asking herself as many questions as him.

Why would the mastermind need drugs…?

Shuichi eyed the trashcan on the side. It was ridiculous, but judging by what they found in the fridge, he wouldn't be surprised if something important was in there.

He lifted and shook the bin to empty it on the ground. And just as he thought, two items fell off. It was... a book and a USB key?

The book was heavy and old-looking, although that aspect looked like it was done on purpose. It didn't have anything written on the cover nor on the back, but instead, he could feel his eyes staring at the odd and mysterious decorations on the front. If anything, it looked like a dark magic grimoire.

He opened it and saw the title on the first page.

"'Necronomicon'...?"

Shuichi flipped through the pages. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw a resurrection ritual being mentioned, but his hopes were cut short when he noticed that all the pages had tacky doodles of Monokuma everywhere. It was very hard to take this book seriously, and it probably didn't have any real value. No wonder it was thrown in a trashcan.

But where did it come from? That was another mystery...

He set the book down and took the USB key. Black and white with Monokuma's signature eye on it. But on a closer look, it didn't seem to be a USB key. Perhaps another storage system that didn't fit a normal computer.

Whatever these were for, they had a reason to be here. And he would have to find it.

Obtained truth bullet! Book and key

He took them both to show them to Miu. Perhaps she will know more about their uses than him.

"Hey... Did you find anything yet?" he asked.

The blonde woman closed the cupboard she was searching in. "Nope. What are these?" she pointed at the two objects.

He handed the book to her.

"I found them in the trashcan. It looks like Monokuma wrote the book, but... I don't really get it. What is it even for?"

Miu inspected the cover and back of the book. She opened it and looked at the inside cover.

"... I've seen this pattern before. I don't know where, but I've seen it."

Shuichi raised an eyebrow and his friend showed him.

However, it was a simple abstract mix of black and dark grey hues. There wasn't anything concrete, just monochrome splashes.

"Are you sure that's not just... a random pattern?"

"Hey! Don't doubt my-

She abruptly stopped herself. Shuichi felt guilty seeing her fierce expression deteriorate into sorrow. "Nevermind... Maybe I'm hallucinating as you say."

Miu gave back the book. "As for the key, I don't have a clue. Never seen anything like that before."

He glanced away. It wasn't his intention to make her doubt her abilities as an artist, but he did. But before he could apologize, she walked away to the next cupboard to inspect, clearly wanting this conversation to end.

… Perhaps he should do the same.

After putting the book and the key on the table next to the sink, the blue-eyed teen opened the next cupboard.

But just as he tried to reach inside, something heavy fell from the top of the shelf directly on his head. He heard the object hitting the ground as he rubbed the spot.

Of course, he would get karma for that with Kokichi a few meters away from him.

But what had hit him?

He looked on the ground to see a... hacking gun?

Shuichi inspected it. It was remarkably similar to the ones Ryoma had created, if not the same. But this one was painted differently and had started accumulating dust. It was black and white, and the symbol on the side was Monokuma's red eye instead of Ryoma's sigil.

With the dust, it looked like it was created before the actual hacking guns, but Ryoma hadn't built this one for sure.

Upon turning it on, his eyes widened as he looked at the number of shots left in the gun.

49.

It had been used once before, but... By whom?

Obtained truth bullet! Hacking gun

Shuichi set the gun on the table and sighed.

None of these ‘clues’ led to anything other than more questions. It was frustrating.

He turned to Miu, perhaps she would-

...

She was staring at a document with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Miu...?"

Her eyes shot up to his, and he instantly felt a chill down his spine.

She was filled with pure terror.

She swallowed and walked up to him, clenching the paper tightly.

"Shuichi, what the hell is this?!"

The blonde shoved the paper in his face.

He stumbled on his feet and took the paper, confused.

...

What...

What the hell was this?!

"Saihara... family contract...?"

Miu was silent as he was reading, the dread slowly settling on his face.

It was a contract between his family and an organization known as ‘Team Danganronpa’ to finance and advertise a killing game with himself as the ‘protagonist’.

"Did you or did you not sign that shit?!"

Her voice became louder, and his heart started racing in his chest.

"I-I don't remember any of this! I've never seen this paper in my life!!"

"Then whose signature is at the bottom?!"

...

He froze.

His gaze drifted right next to the scarlet red stamp that had the form of Monokuma's eye, on the three signatures written in dark blue ink.

Respectively his father, his mother... and himself.

He felt his throat tighten at the sight of his own handwriting.

Shuichi Saihara.

His hands were trembling as he kept staring at the paper.

Shuichi Saihara.

It was the truth, wasn't it?

His family was responsible for the killing game.

He was responsible for the killing game.

…

Everything became white noise. He could feel his senses leaving him.

All he could see was his own handwriting. Blue stains from a past he could not remember, taunting him endlessly. All he could hear were muffled voices clashing together, drowned in a constant dissonant ringing that didn’t want to stop. All he could feel between his fingers was the paper stained with his own mistakes, now wet with the warm, fat tears he didn't even feel falling.

...

What...

What had he done?

What kind of monster was he?!

The noise became louder and louder, until...

Shuichi felt the paper being taken from his hands, and everything instantly became clearer in his mind.

He raised his head to look at Kokichi and Kirumi, who had joined them supposedly because of the ruckus. The latter was reading the paper with an unreadable expression.

Her intense green eyes suddenly met his. The cold wave was another hit to the chest.

There was a long silence in the room.

"This is your signature, isn't it?"

Unable to mutter a word, he closed his eyes, breaking the painful eye contact. "... It is."

For some reason, he couldn't feel her judgmental gaze on him. What was she thinking about?

They had all the reasons to hate him, and he deserved it. He agreed to make them suffer, to let them die and decay miserably, away from their loved ones.

Rantaro's words kept playing in his head.

He may not remember it, but the evidence was here. He did sign this. He agreed to let them rot.

And he doesn't even remember it.

"I'm... I'm sorry I... I don’t…"

The three pairs of eyes were surely locked on him, but the words never came out of their mouths.

...

"Kirumi... What do you think of all of this?"

He couldn't bear looking at her.

"... Something about this contract doesn’t sit right with me."

Shuichi felt his heart skip a bit.

"I do not know what, though.” She brushed the paper with her fingers.

“I do not think this is the original but rather a copy. However, correct me if I’m wrong, Miu…” Kirumi gave the paper to the other girl. “… But the writing does give me the impression that this was not edited in any way.”

“I don't have any reason to think that this contract was faked, but... It's too easy."

He heard Kokichi shifting his feet to turn to her. "What do you mean?"

"Miu, you find this in a cupboard of all places." she said. "Not a safe, not in a drawer, but a cupboard anyone could open, in the middle of glasses and plates. Why would a contract that important be here, and not in a secured place, or at least a real drawer?"

Shuichi lifted his head.

"From what I remember, I have spent countless hours in mansions either stealing important documents, taking care of evidence that could expose me as the culprit, and sometimes placing fake evidence to incriminate another maid or worker."

"And never have I ever found a document that important in a cupboard nor have I ever placed fake evidence here."

Miu seemed to ponder for a moment. "And... What do you think that means?"

She sighed. "To me, there are no logical explanations. The mastermind is just making a fool out of us."

The blonde's eyes widened. "You're the one who said this thing couldn't have been faked! It has to come from somewhere!"

"It's… exactly like the Sanzu garden."

The three turned to Kokichi.

"Kiyo... He had made his plan because the mastermind knew Tsumugi's attitude was suspicious to him! They manipulated the academy for days to separate us! Maybe they're doing the same here to throw us off!"

Shuichi's eyes widened. "You... You think so? But-

"You might be right. That's the most plausible theory in my eyes." Kirumi interrupted him.

"With the proof that our memories could have been altered, I decided to only trust the memories we made in this killing game, and nothing else."

"And perhaps you guys should do too."

"So you think... Shuichi doesn't have anything to do with the creation of the killing game?" Miu hesitantly asked.

...

Silence.

"Maybe, maybe not. Because our memories may have been altered doesn't ultimately prove his innocence. This contract looks real, after all." she said.

"But Kokichi is right. Letting our emotions get the best of us would be our greatest mistake, and that's exactly what the mastermind wants right now."

His other two friends nodded in understanding.

... But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to feel relieved by her words.

After all, he might be more of a monster than he remembers.

And that terrified him.

Obtained truth bullet! Saihara family contract

Shuichi still had trouble looking at any of his friends.

"Should we... go back to the computer?" Kokichi broke the silence.

"Of course."

Miu, Kokichi, and Kirumi started walking towards the engine. But Shuichi still had a word to say.

"Kirumi..." he muttered.

She stopped in her tracks.

"Why did you defend me?"

The young woman said nothing, then side-eyed him.

“First of all, learn when it is appropriate to start conflicts between us.”

He winced at the remark.

"I don't know what you did before we all met. I don't know why you supposedly agreed to finance this killing game.”

“You could even be faking your emotions and try to create unnecessary conflicts to make sure we don’t find enough hints to end this killing game for all I know."

"You may have signed this contract, but I could be worse than you in every way imaginable, rotten to the core and deserving hell more than anyone else on this wretched planet. I remember being a mercenary, I might as well be the devil."

"To blame you for everything that happened to me, knowing there is a possibility that I am a monster viler and more vicious than you could ever be... would make me a hypocrite."

Shuichi pondered to himself, eyes low.

"Kirumi! You coming?" Miu's voice took them out of their thoughts.

"I'm here."

The sound of her heels resonated in his ears. He followed them, and his eyes landed on the computer screen.

The long-haired girl started typing again. "I don't know what I can do at this point. As I said, I'm not an expert hack-

Kirumi was interrupted by a sudden explosion that blew up the door that was right next to them, scattering debris and... burned books?

He had forgotten about the door leading to the library. And standing there, a cannon pointed at the room, was Monoshi.

"SECRET-ENTRANCE-UNLOCKED: LIBRARY. NO-SECRET-ENTRANCES-REMAINING."

The modified bear left as suddenly as he came, leaving a gaping hole replacing the sealed door between the two rooms.

"Guys! Look!"

Shuichi suddenly turned to Miu.

"We finally got access to the computer!"

Kirumi raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "How...? I didn't even enter anything."

Shuichi hummed. "Maybe... Karma did the job?"

"Whatever happened, it worked. We shouldn't waste time wondering about that right now." Miu scanned the screen with her eyes.

There were several applications and files, it was hard to choose what to click first.

"Look, there's a file called 'flashback light list', maybe we should start with that?" Shuichi suggested.

Miu clicked on the file.

Sixteen files, all named with... Two letters.

"Okay... What are we choosing first?" the blue-eyed teen asked.

"The first, duh."

The blonde clicked on the file named "AY".

Anterior_AY.cmr Chapter_2_AY.cmr Chapter_3_AY.cmr Chapter_4_AY.cmr Chapter_5_AY.cmr Character_AY.ccr Motive_05_AY.ccr Motive_05_END_AY.cmr Talent_AY.cpr

Miu frowned. "... I have several questions."

"The ‘character’ file matches what we saw in the flashback lights guide." Kirumi noted.

"But what about the 'chapter' ones?" Shuichi asked.

Kokichi blinked. "I don't even know what I'm looking at."

He couldn’t deny things were very confusing, whether they knew what was in the guide or not.

"Maybe we should check the others...?" the other boy suggested.

Miu went back and clicked on the second file: "GG". It was the exact same list, with the 'AY' replaced by 'GG' except...

The 'Motive_05' files were missing.

"Could you go back for a second, Miu?" Kirumi frowned.

The girl did as told.

The other stared at the screen for a moment. "... Those are our initials. Each of those files is about us."

Shuichi's eyes widened. But just as she said, he noticed the file named 'SS'. And indeed, the list was about them.

AY, GG, HY, KA, KM, KT, KO, KS, MH, MI, RA, RH, SS, TC, TI and TS.

Miu immediately clicked on her file. It had all the same files as the others, without the 'Motive_05' ones.

"What the hell...?" she muttered.

They checked each of the files to spot the differences.

Angie had the 'Motive_05_AY.ccr' and the 'Motive_05_END_AY.cmr' files.

Ryoma had 'Motive_05_RH.ccr' and 'Motive_05_END_HR.cmr'.

Tsumugi had 'Motive_05_TS.cmr' and 'Motive_05_END_TS.cmr'.

However...

Kokichi was missing the 'Talent' file.

Shuichi was missing the 'Character' file.

Kirumi was missing the 'Anterior' file.

And Tatsuya was missing those exact three files.

Shuichi swallowed. Should he be happy that he didn't have a 'character' file? Should he be mad? Worried?

He didn't know.

All those files were the same for everyone, except the initials at the end of each of them, unique to each participant.

But Kirumi, Kokichi and Tatsuya... Why were they missing files?

Especially Tatsuya. He would understand if he was a robot like they all thought until tonight, but Tatsuya was a human just like them before being transferred into K1-B0.

...

When were those flashback lights even created?

Obtained truth bullet! Flashback light list

Miu turned to the others- those with the missing files.

"I don't get it... I know I should be mad that I have those flashback light files but what about you guys? Why are you missing some of those files?"

Shuichi nervously looked away. "I wish I knew..."

Kokichi was still staring at the screen. "I think we skipped a file..."

Miu froze. "I-I don't know what you're talking about?"

She was clearly lying.

Shuichi scanned the screen, until...

"... It's Rantaro's file, isn't it?"

Her shoulders dropped, her hands clenching into fists.

"I... I don't know what it's gonna be and I'm scared."

Kirumi crossed her arms. "Unfortunately, he could be like us, missing a file. We have to know if there is a difference.”

She swallowed and clicked.

And indeed, his file was different. But not in the way they expected.

Anterior_RA.cmr Chapter_2_RA.cmr Chapter_3_RA.cmr Chapter_4_RA.cmr Chapter_5_RA.cmr Character_RA.ccr EmergencyTherapyRantaro.ccr Talent_RA.cpr

Shuichi's eyes widened.

What the hell was this new file?!

Miu jumped from her seat. "Emergency therapy...?"

She didn't think and immediately clicked on the odd file to open it. But...

... An error message popped up, indicating that the file was corrupted and thus impossible to recover.

They stared at it, defeated. They didn't even do anything, but it still felt like they failed at keeping one person safe.

Seeing a file named 'Emergency Therapy' exclusively for Rantaro corrupted and beyond repair gave him a sick feeling in his stomach.

If there was one file that they had needed, it was this one. And yet, it was completely ruined.

This message reeked irony, and Shuichi hated it.

Obtained truth bullet! Corrupted file

Miu slammed her hands on the table. "Why?! This isn't fucking fair! Why is this file even here if it's just to stand there and taunt us?!"

...

No response.

Indeed, why did this file even exist? Why would the mastermind even create this?

The more they searched through this room, the less he understood their intentions. It was getting harder and harder to look at the hints and clues that were ‘offered’ to them.

But was there really something to understand?

The mastermind was a monster. Someone who would make them suffer for their own amusement no matter what. But...

'The 'mastermind' is only a pawn in the greater scheme that this killing game is.'

If they were merely a pawn, then how disgusting were the people above them...?

... This was terrifying to think about.

Kirumi leaned forward and closed the error window. At least they wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

The girl next to her stared at the file's name. She seemed to ponder to herself.

"Hey, is it me or..." she trailed off. "... Nevermind."

She closed the tab. No one wanted to see those files anymore- this grotesque mockery of their despair.

Shuichi couldn't find the courage to look at the screen anymore.

Kokichi broke the silence. "Was this icon here before?"

He pointed at a logo that looked like Monokuma's eye. Titled 'FLIBD - SRD subjects'.

Kirumi frowned. "No... It definitely wasn't there."

Miu got the message and clicked on it.

What appeared before them looked like an information sheet. A picture of a young girl their age, and some data about her.

She had incredibly beautiful traits, the bright blue eyes of a doll, and voluminous blond hair attached in two pigtails. She wore a thin black necklace that contrasted a lot with her fair skin.

But something caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes landed on the hairpins.

Two Monokuma heads, one fully white on the left and one fully black on the right.

"W-Who the hell is she?!"

"She's wearing Monokuma like a fucking trophy. Whoever she is, I already don't trust her." Miu hissed.

Only an ally of Monokuma would wear such a gross accessory.

"Her name is Junko Enoshima, according to the info on the profile." Kirumi noted.

Junko Enoshima...

He has never heard this name before in his life.

At least, from what he remembers.

Was she part of those behind the killing game as a whole?

Obtained truth bullet! Junko Enoshima

They decided to look into the written details about her.

Junko Enoshima - #01-006 Ultimate analytical prowess - Type primary: O Type secondary: M Intensity: A- High Beginning: / Conflict status: Tame Keyword: Despair Status: Dead - 6M - 1/26

"Wait, she's dead?" Miu raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently so." Kirumi said. "Although I do not know what the '6M' means."

Shuichi neither. But what did those 'types' even mean? And all the other info given here?

"Wait, look at the keyword!" Kokichi said. "Isn't Monokuma always babbling about despair?"

"So you do think she has some kind of relationship with Monokuma, right?" Shuichi asked.

"She has Monokuma hairpins, so there's no questioning that." Miu turned to her friends. "She does give me the impression that she’s like… The creator or something."

The creator of Monokuma...?

"But she's dead! Does that mean the mastermind was her, but she was actually dead all along?" Shuichi exclaimed.

"I don't think the mastermind is dead. Someone has to take care of Monokuma and the killing game somehow." Kirumi pondered. "Though I don't deny she must have a connection with him."

Shuichi stared at the screen. "Wait, there's a '1/26' at the bottom of the screen... Are there other people like her?"

Miu span around to face the screen. "That's what we'll find out."

She tapped the right arrow on the keyboard, and another information sheet appeared. But the person on the screen looked... Completely unrelated.

It was a boy this time. His face gave Shuichi chills. He looked like he was a ghost. Messy hair white as snow with weak scarlet ends, and skin almost as pale as a corpse. His grey eyes looked empty, devoid of life. He seemed to be wearing a green hoodie, but he could only guess. However...

... He did not wear a single accessory related to Monokuma.

Nagito Komaeda - #02-028 Ultimate lucky student - Type primary: O Type secondary: / Intensity: A- High Beginning: / Conflict status: Tame Keyword: Hope Status: Dead - 5V/S – Terminated - 2/26

"Dead too?!" Miu yelled. "Are all of these people dead?!"

"This one indicates 'terminated'. That was not on the first one." Kirumi pointed out.

Whatever that meant, it was not a good sign.

"But look... The keyword..." Kokichi said.

Hope.

The exact opposite of Junko Enoshima.

"Do they or do they not work for Monokuma?" Miu raised an eyebrow. "It's confusing as hell."

"I don't think we were right when we assumed this was a list of those who worked for the game." Kirumi explained. "This is something else. The icon said 'subjects' with two acronyms. But if we don't know what the acronyms mean, we are not going to get far."

Subjects...?

It sounded like an experiment. This was... worrying, to say the least.

"So what? Do we look at the other info sheets to see what is actually going on?" Miu suggested.

"We can only try."

And so, they did. Each of those info sheets contained the same kind of info, although the parameters changed.

There didn't seem to be a pattern in the talents- they were at random, from art, to knowledge, and sometimes even murder related. Ultimate vocalist, assassin, poet, anthropologist, psychiatrist… How many ultimate students even existed in the world?

The ‘types’ changed letters. Some had both primary and secondary filled, some had only the primary.

The intensity part was generally either low or moderate. Sometimes it was marked as 'high', but only on rare occasions. The letter 'A' also seemed to have turned to an 'N' around the 5th person.

But he also noticed that for some, unlike the two first, the 'beginning' part was filled. Sometimes it was a person's death, a day, a random event, and sometimes... A trial? They did wonder if other ultimates had been in a killing game just like them.

The fact that they were probably not the first victims made Shuichi want to puke.

They then noted that the 'beginning' part was only filled for those with the letter N in the ‘intensity’ part.

The 'conflict status' part was completely random, with no apparent pattern. This was probably the part he understood the less.

On the keyword part was often noted notions or concepts, but he had seen a name or two on these info sheets.

As the status...

All dead.

Not a single one was noted 'alive'. One or two had the 'terminated' note, but all of them were dead, for some reason or another.

It was painful to look at, even though none of them recognized any of the people in the pictures, or even the names.

On the 25th info sheet, Miu clicked on the keyboard to see the last person, and...

It was like time had stopped.

They recognized this face all too well.

Messy green hair, an intense emerald gaze powerful enough to petrify someone, and young, slightly feminine traits on a male teenager they had all known as...

"R-Rantaro...?" Miu muttered, her voice shaking.

This was him. There was no doubt about it. But... Why...?

Rantaro Amami - #53-844 Ultimate medic - Type primary: T Type secondary: P Intensity: N- High Beginning: Tsumugi Shirogane's death ~ Ch4 trial ~ Night 16 Conflict status: Very aggressive Keyword: Save Status: Dead - 5E - 26/26

"W-What does Rantaro have to do with these people?!" Kokichi exclaimed with his feeble voice.

Kirumi approached the screen and narrowed her eyes at the picture that was in front of them. "As much as I hate to say this, we will probably get a better understanding of this list with him there."

Unfortunately, she was right.

However, something immediately bugged him. "Hey, is it me or are those '53' everywhere? This is the third time in a row I've seen the number written.”

Kokichi turned to him. "Wasn't it also written on Keebo's plans?"

Shuichi's eyes widened. "It was! I don't get what it means, though."

"Can we talk about like, everything else?" Miu frowned with a mix of both confusion and annoyance.

Perhaps it was nervousness that made him focus on the less important details. Whatever the reason, he hated it. The rest of the information was much more primordial to their investigation and understanding of the situation, after all.

"'Tsumugi's death’, ‘Ch4 trial’, and a certain night…“ Shuichi muttered to himself, low enough so he wouldn’t be heard by anyone.

He did have an idea of what had happened during that time, but… He didn’t have the courage to say it out loud.

Kirumi was reading the info sheet. She seemed to be focused on trying to get a clue out of this.

“Did you… figure out anything?”

She only narrowed her eyes. “I do have a theory, but it lacks evidence, so I suggest you take what I say with a grain of salt.”

“I do believe this has something to do with his mental state.”

Bingo.

“What do you mean?” Miu raised an eyebrow. “I mean… We all figured out something wasn’t right, but… What does this have to do with that?” she gestured to the info sheet.

Kirumi seemed to be choosing her words, then sighed.

“It’s after Tsumugi’s death that he… started acting strange, to put it lightly. And as much as I tried to talk to him about it during the last few days, it was useless.”

Shuichi felt his heart sting as those moments started invading his mind again. The fourth trial was a nightmare. Four hours of figuring out who had orchestrated Tsumugi’s execution, and a quarter of it was spent deciding if it was Rantaro’s most trusted friend or the beloved therapist who was the culprit.

And the fifth trial… He didn’t even want to think about it.

“Hold on, you knew he was in this state and you didn’t say anything?” Miu frowned.

… He didn’t like where this was going.

“Look, some things happened that you probably don’t want to know. This group was already fragile to begin with. To tell you the truth would have been like smashing an already collapsing vase with a baseball bat.”

“And you just left him alone thinking telling us would have made things worse than they already were?!” she yelled.

“I severely fucked up, I know that already!! Don’t you think I realized by now?!” Kirumi’s voice was growing louder, filled with rage.

Her eyes, bright green, and a glare as powerful as…

Shuichi instinctively took a step back.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” the other girl stood up. “What did you have to gain by doing your little thing alone on your side?!”

“Miu-“ he approached her.

“Shut it! It’s between me and her!”

“No! I’m just as much at fault for this if not more!”

She stopped. Everyone turned to him.

Oh no.

“You… What?”

He turned away. “I… I knew about this as much as Kirumi. I’m the one who told her in the first place. I tried to investigate with her but… We were never successful. He always turned us away.”

Kirumi looked at him, silently.

“And what’s your excuse? Why did you decide to hide all of this from m- from us?”

He could tell Miu was mad. But her anger was not his biggest concern.

Why was this moment still intact in his mind, replaying itself over and over again?

The cold blade against his throat, steady and ready to slice through it like a vulgar piece of meat.

A gaze… His gaze…

“I-I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Please.”

He felt his voice cracking at the last word. He probably looked miserable, which was something that happened way too often for his liking.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. He couldn’t blame Miu for wanting to know, but that was not something he wanted to even think about right now.

Kirumi sighed. “Look, Miu. I know we messed up. You have every right to be mad. But this-“ she vaguely gestured at the group. “-is exactly what I wanted to avoid at a time like this. If you want, you can take a small break while we continue to investigate.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just… a lot to take in. All of this.”

While he knew she could not even begin to understand how he felt back there, to learn that two of your friends hid such important things about the person you cared about the most…

Miu rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine. Let’s just- let’s just keep going. Sorry for the outburst.”

Kirumi put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen. I might have been too harsh and I’m sorry. When I say take a break, I mean it.”

She lowered her gaze. “… Alright, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

Miu walked to the back of the room. She needed time for herself, and Shuichi respected that.

Kokichi glanced at them both. He looked like he wanted to ask about what had happened but didn’t dare to.

“It’s… It’s complicated.” Shuichi muttered.

“I wasn’t going to ask… I’m just wondering if you at least talked about it properly to someone.” He replied. “When I talked to Miu, I felt a bit more… refreshed, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Shuichi weakly smiled. “Thanks. I talked a bit to Kirumi about this already, but it- it’s still not something I want to share. At least not now.”

The white-haired boy turned to the picture of Rantaro. “Save…”

An obsession he developed, to the point of ending his own life in some twisted plan.

“I don’t think I will ever understand him…” the boy muttered.

Shuichi swallowed. “Maybe we could have been true friends… If only we met differently, then things would have been better.”

Kirumi had her eyes on him. “… That’s nothing but a distant dream, now.”

She looked at Miu, then back at the computer, deciding to close the haunting file.

They would have to figure out what it all meant, but right now they were drained. Whenever Rantaro was mentioned, things did not end up well.

Obtained truth bullet! Subject list

Shuichi glanced at the ground for a moment. He was the one to start the meaningless investigation, despite himself.

He thought it had been completely useless in the end, since Rantaro ended up achieving his wretched goals, but perhaps... Not all of it was for nothing. There was still more to this, and this list was the proof.

Miu came back to them. “Alright, we done with this file?”

It was obvious she was still shaken.

Kokichi hummed. “We… figured we could go onto something else.”

She went back to the chair and thought for a moment. "… What are we checking next?"

Shuichi approached her to look at what could be useful, pushing his thoughts to the back of his head. "Hey, doesn't this look like a chat device?" he pointed at an icon. "Maybe the mastermind was talking to an ally, or someone they're working with."

The girl cracked her fingers. "Let's see what this bitch was up to."

After clicking the icon, one single conversation appeared on the screen.

"We might need to read all of this, maybe try to scroll up to see where it starts?" Shuichi suggested.

And so she did. Unfortunately, they didn't seem very talkative, and they did not know when those conversations really happened.

But now, they could read actual conversations from the mastermind and their accomplices, and that was more than enough.

Or superiors, if Rantaro was right.

=====

I request an alternate motive. This is urgent. <

> Which one?

Number 05. <

> Understood. Please give me the details in a voice call.

(Voice call lasted 19 min 47 sec)

=====

"Alternate motive...?" Kokichi tilted his head. "We were supposed to have another motive at some point?"

Shuichi slammed his hands on the table. "Wait! Motive 05! It's the flashback lights file!"

"The flashback lights for Ryoma, Angie, and Tsumugi only." Kirumi noted.

Miu frowned. "Wait, if this is about the despair disease, why didn’t Kokichi have a file? You had the disease, right?"

He stiffened. "Y-yes? I had the disease!!"

And yet... Nothing was proving it. Neither the files, nor the attitude back then.

"That's... odd, don't you think?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow. "Kokichi did not change attitude and did not have his memories of that period erased..."

The young boy looked panicked, to say the least. "I don't know! But I... I had the disease, Monokuma said it and I know I had it..." he trailed off.

The three looked at each other. After what had just happened with the contract and the file, preying on it would only make things worse.

Instead, Rantaro's words ringed in his head.

'No existing disease infects people that differently.'

And he was right. This was no disease, but instead flashback lights. Which made a lot more sense than whatever explanation the bears came up with.

... And with how much Angie changed because of 'the disease', he started wondering what the flashback lights were truly capable of.

Pure terror, and nothing else. he thought to himself.

Miu scrolled down to look at the next conversation.

=====

The next motive will be an alternate one as well. This is an important demand.<

> I expected that. Which one?

Number 13. <

> Are you sure? This is not an easy motive to handle.

Yes. I believe it is the best way to continue the game. <

> Understood. Shall we make a voice call for the details?

Yes. <

(Voice call lasted 1h 49 min 04 sec)

=====

"Wait, the Sanzu garden was not planned from the start either?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow.

"Forget about that, look at the voice call!" Miu exclaimed. "Two hours of babbling about how to make us suffer?!"

"No, Shuichi is right." Kirumi frowned. "The motive was planned after the despair disease to an extent. This means that the mastermind somehow managed to put all of that into place in a few days at most."

He didn't think about that. "That's... how?!"

"Shuichi, I think at this point we should stop asking 'how is this possible' and more 'what is going on’. This entire bullshit sounds like science fiction, but here we are." Miu sighed.

And she was right, unfortunately. He didn't expect science to be able to transfer a human soul into a robotic body nor to be able to mess with memories in such a way, but he had to accept that this was real.

"Still... They planned and prepared all of this way too quickly..." Kokichi muttered.

If the mastermind worked alone, that would have been impossible. But as Rantaro said, they don't know how many people are behind the scenes.

It was terrifying.

They kept scrolling to see what happened after that.

=====

> This trial was a wonderful success. You have made an excellent job handling this motive.

> Rare are those who can make it work correctly.

Thank you. <

> However, we will once again need you to keep an eye on someone for tonight. You might already know who I'm talking about.

Yes, I do. And understood. <

=====

"Wonderful success my ass." Miu hissed. "As long as we get hurt, they’re happy. Fucking bastards."

"I think we should talk about the 'Rare are those who can make it work correctly.'" Kirumi noted. "Did other people have to do this in the past?"

That was more of a rhetorical question. This conversation was just blatant proof that...

... This was not the first killing game. And enough of them had the Sanzu garden as a motive for this to be said. How many had to be trapped in those chambers, or were hurt by the countless traps placed to terrorize them?

It was sickening.

"Um... Why are they talking about 'keeping an eye on someone' though?" Kokichi asked. "And 'once again'? Did the mastermind already have to do that?"

"It does seem normal that they are tasked to keep an eye on us, but that message seems to hold more importance." Kirumi said.

But for what, though...? What is so important that the mastermind needed to be reminded to do that?

Whatever the reason, he already hated it.

He glanced at the screen and saw that Miu had scrolled down a bit.

=====

We need to talk. Right now. <

> What is it about?

Don't feign ignorance. <

> We are already working on this. You do not need to intervene.

Understood. <

=====

"What the hell?" Miu raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

It was odd to see the mastermind be mad at whoever their colleague was. Whatever they did must not have pleased them.

But was it a good or a bad sign?

"It must have happened after the fourth trial, but not on the same day as the other conversation." Kirumi pondered. "Although I doubt this has anything to do with the fifth trial."

He nodded. Judging by how they talked, the chances were low.

But unfortunately, there wasn't much they could deduce from this conversation.

Miu scrolled down and they realized this would be the last conversation the mastermind and their accomplice had.

======

> This entire trial was a full-blown disaster. How did you mess up that badly?

> Do you realize we might have executed Mr. Amami for nothing? We don't even know if he was indeed guilty.

I didn't ask for him to be executed, as far as I know. You did. <

Also, don't act like you didn't want him to die. I do have a part of responsibility < in this, but do not put 100% of the blame on me.

There are things and people I simply cannot control, you should know that.<

> You do know executing someone without concrete proof of the crime is not something we can do out of the blue.

> Someone like you shouldn't be in this position. You knew him better than everyone else and there is no excuse for your failure.

Once again, you are also to blame. I warned you about him. I specifically told < you he was a force to be reckoned with, someone to never underestimate.

Why do you think I chose him of all people? <

> You could have made the job easier for yourself and for us, and you didn't.

What is done is done. This game will come to an end very soon, and I have < no choice but to take another route for the finale.

> You know we cannot afford to end the killing game like this.

It is too late for that. We underestimated him, and we must pay the price. <

I'll let you handle the preparations. You might need to hurry up, though. I have < a feeling he prepared more than we first expected.

> Understood.

======

The four of them stared at the screen with wide eyes.

Shuichi had his eyes locked on one single sentence.

'I didn't ask for him to be executed.'

Rantaro...

"Rantaro was supposed to live?!" he yelled.

"Hold the fuck up! If the mastermind didn't want him dead, then why was he executed?!" Miu turned back, panicked.

Shuichi paused, then glanced at her. "W-

"He was right."

He suddenly turned to Kirumi.

"Rantaro mentioned Monokuma possibly getting new orders during the trial, when he suddenly turned against him and gave us a very explicit reason to vote for him."

"So that wasn't the mastermind?!" Kokichi exclaimed.

Then... The mastermind was actually not in total control of the trial...?

What on earth had happened back there?!

"So they fucked up, the mastermind wanted to let him go but whoever the fuck was actually behind the scenes wanted him dead?!"

This was almost exactly what Rantaro had predicted.

His foresight was one of the greatest qualities he had, to their dismay.

But...

"Who are we even calling the mastermind if they don't even have full power over the game?!"

"A pawn." Kirumi bluntly said. "The 'mastermind' has a certain amount of power, but they’re at the lowest level of the hierarchy."

He swallowed. "Still... The fact that the one we considered our greatest enemy for so long might be nothing next to whoever was behind them..."

A graveyard silence settled among them.

He couldn't even bring himself to fear the mastermind anymore.

Rantaro had told them. He had told them that there were more people behind this horror, but... He never imagined anything like that.

"But... Look at this..." Kokichi pointed at the screen. "The other person says they can't kill us out of the blue... Are they still bound by the rules? I thought the mastermind was doing this game for them?"

"Then there must be more layers to this." Kirumi crossed her arms. She raised a finger, pointing at nothing in particular, then raised it up as she talked. "The 'mastermind' is at the bottom, then it's the second layer- this person, whatever their role is, and finally someone else at the top, who has given them the instructions and is only watching."

"That's my understanding of the situation."

Shuichi pondered. This looked like a decent explanation.

But still, whoever is at the top...

... What kind of power did they even possess for multiple killing games to be organized?

Miu stared at the screen, still reading the messages. "The mastermind knows Rantaro more than anyone else... What does that mean? Do they know us as well?"

"That does seem logical. They have 'chosen’ Rantaro, whatever that means, so they probably ‘chose’ us as well. Though I don't know how they could know us enough to the point of creating the Sanzu Garden." Kirumi said.

"That doesn't surprise me at this point, to be honest. What I'm worried about is the last message the mastermind sent. They seemed to know Rantaro had prepared something, so Monoshi must have not been that much of a surprise for them."

If they knew something was going to happen, then... Why didn't they do anything? Was it because the game was already supposed to end?

Was the game successfully ended by Rantaro, or was it already supposed to end, making his sacrifice utterly useless?

"Does that mean they knew we were going to end up in this room?" Kokichi asked.

That... was actually a good question. They didn't seem to have tried to hide major clues like the flashback light guide and the computer, but at the same time, the contract with his family was here. And they were actually able to go past the computer security.

"Maybe... I wouldn't be surprised if they did, but here we are, looking at their conversation with their boss, so who knows." Miu sighed.

Obtained truth bullet! Conversation with the mastermind

The group stopped talking for a moment. They needed to process this. Not just this part of the conversation, but the rest of the investigation. From Tatsuya Idabashi and his corpse, Keebo, the contract with his own family, the subject list to this...

What did he get himself into?!

Kirumi let her shoulders drop. "We should go back to investigating the academy while we still can. I think we’ve seen enough from this computer."

Shuichi turned to her. "Wait, there might still be info on this…"

As much as he hated it, he knew he was right. This computer was a gold mine, despite all the nuggets being coated in poison.

Miu pondered. "But she's right on one thing. We’ve all been on this computer for a while instead of the usual two-by-two. We should get back to that strategy."

Just as she finished her sentence, the sound of another explosion from the outside was heard.

"I... I think I'll stay here…" Shuichi nervously said.

"Fine. I'll go outside." Kirumi took a step back. "I'll try to investigate alone."

"I might also need some time to process all of this bullshit or I think I'll have an aneurysm." She muttered to herself, although Shuichi did hear her.

The sound of her heels faded away as she passed through the destroyed entrance in the library.

Miu crossed her arms, gaze to the ground. "I'll go to the surface too. Can I leave you two with the computer?" she asked.

"C-Count on us."

Shuichi muttered this unconsciously, but he didn't even know if he was ready to see more.

Miu gave him a weak smile and walked away, leaving him with Kokichi.

Once she was out of sight, Shuichi sighed, putting his face in his hands. “What are we even doing…?”

Kokichi put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

It was impossible to keep calm.

“I’m sorry, I- I just don’t know what to think anymore…” he mumbled.

The other boy let his hand drop. “It’s fine… I know this is dumb coming from me, but… Please talk if you need to.”

He paused.

“I just… I feel guilty about Rantaro. I should have said something to Miu… I know I shouldn’t have stayed silent but h- he…”

His throat tightened.

“I don’t know what happened to you exactly, but… He did something bad to you, didn’t he?”

His silence provided him the answer.

“I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did… I know I shouldn’t talk behind people’s backs, but I know Miu is biased, and I can’t blame her either.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you shouldn’t feel bad about keeping it a secret. Maybe things would have gone differently if you talked about your worry, but… You are not the one who is responsible for his death.”

Shuichi stayed silent, a bit surprised by his words.

“Kokichi…”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s whoever organized the killing game, right? So the only thing we can do is to stop them.”

He felt a smile form on his lips, despite the tears threatening to fall at any moment.

“… Thank you.”

“No problem, that’s the least I can do now.”

Shuichi glanced back at the conversation.

"Do you think we should try communicating with them?" he asked. "I don't even know what we'll get out of it, but we could try."

Kokichi frowned. "It feels weird talking to the people who did all of this to us... But we don't have anything to lose, right?"

"I don't think so..."

Shuichi approached the keyboard and took a deep breath.

I managed to get back to the room. What's the next step of the plan? <

"Wait... Aren't they watching us with the cameras?" Kokichi asked. "Don't they know it's us?"

Shit.

Shuichi slowly turned to him. "W-What do we do now?"

They stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity.

"I don't think they'll answer..." Shuichi mumbled.

He reduced the window size to look at what was available on the computer. Unfortunately, there weren't many icons, but one stood out to him.

"Mastermind rules...?"

He clicked on the icon. It looked like a set of rules they had to follow.

Overall, nothing was alarming or too out of place. Check the room and give updates as often as possible, always keep an eye on the participants, interact as little as possible with the environment not to disturb the game...

... But then, his eyes landed on one specific rule.

#10. Prevent suicides

There is always a possibility a participant will try to end their life at some point in the game, and at a time it is not welcome (i.e.: less than 24 hours after a trial, a participant's death -unless chapter 3- or at any moment the death will be too obvious for a proper trial to be done). In that case, make sure the participant stays alive for the sake of the game by whatever means necessary. Keep an eye on them until the situation is suitable enough for them to do so, or if they simply don't want to commit the act anymore.

Shuichi's eyes widened.

"That's... That's what we're worth to them?" Kokichi's voice was shaking.

The blue-eyed teen swallowed, taking a step back. "This… This is..."

…

If he had truly wished to end it all... The mastermind themselves would have come to his rescue, for the sole purpose of continuing the game...?

How was he supposed to feel about this?!

Obtained truth bullet! Mastermind's rules

He instinctively closed the window.

Thankfully, there wasn't much they could search in this computer anymore, aside from one icon Kokichi pointed out.

"Hey, look at this, maybe... Maybe this is about the cameras?"

Shuichi clicked on it, and to their surprise, all the screens lit up, showing different cameras around the academy. But the cameras looked like they were... flying? They were at the very least not attached to a wall, the ground, or a ceiling, and they were moving.

He spotted Kaito's exisal and Monoshi still hardly fighting against the other bears, Miu running around the main building and Kirumi walking towards the dorms' building.

Another screen showed their faces, staring at the camera. And yet, there was nothing in their field of vision aside from the screen of the computer.

Very disturbing, to say the least.

On the main laptop was a gigantic list of... 'nanokumas'?

There seemed to be hundreds of them, each marked as active, aside from a small portion of them, marked as destroyed.

Were they the cameras? Cameras small enough not to be noticed by anyone?

Rantaro was right on many more guesses than he thought.

Obtained truth bullet! Nanokumas

Since there wasn't much to see here, he closed the window.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi asked before glancing at the table. “Hm?”

Shuichi turned to him. “What is it?”

“Kirumi and I found a key next to the computer, that she guessed was a master key, something that could unlock all rooms. But it’s gone now, she might have taken it.”

A very useful item that he despised the existence of.

He looked at the entrance in the library. "There is nothing left to check in this room, so we might as well get out. I hate this place."

His friend nodded. "Yeah…”

And so they did. Once they were out, they decided to split up to check places they might have missed.

There was one place Shuichi needed to go to.

He glanced at the dorms building where Kirumi had supposedly gone to.

He needed to get there. He ran as fast as he could to avoid any possible damage.

Shuichi immediately closed the door behind him, and the ruckus outside became less loud. But the silence of the dorms was not that much more reassuring.

His eyes drifted to the different rooms, now all empty, as their owners were either dead or investigating. However...

... He noticed one door was slightly opened.

Rantaro's.

He swallowed and approached the room.

...

After what felt like an eternity, he found the courage to quietly open the door.

He felt himself gag right after stepping into his room.

There was a strange mix of unpleasant smells- nothing like Tatsuya's lab, though. A mix of sweat, chemicals and medicine drowned in a sea of heavy enclosed air. The room itself was incredibly messy and disorganized. He noticed a needle on the bedside table with a bottle of liquid medicine, a half-emptied bottle of water, and pills.

The bed was not even made. The pillow was thrown away and the blanket had fallen on the floor next to the bed.

His eyes glanced towards the wardrobe. It was supposed to have a mirror, but... The shattered shiny pieces of aluminum on the ground told enough for him to understand what had happened.

Looking at this scene made his heart ache. Everything he had seen in the mastermind's room had been messed up, but...

Seeing the madness in the most intimate place they had for themselves was something else. It felt like he wasn't entering a simple room, but rather getting a glimpse of the fragmented mind of his former friend. The one who laid down his life for them- for their safety and out of spite.

His head turned to the bathroom, and that's when he noticed the other person in the room- who hadn't noticed him yet.

Kirumi was staring in front of her, an unreadable expression on her face.

She placed a hand on the mirror, gently brushing it with her long, thin fingers.

After swallowing, he stepped forward.

Kirumi suddenly turned around, just noticing him.

"... It's you."

Shuichi looked down for a moment. "Sorry if I surprised you."

Her shoulders dropped as she turned back to her reflection. "It's fine."

It’s only then that he noticed the state of the mirror, which had been out of his sight until now.

Shattered.

Three strikes that left crackles all over the piece of furniture. The mirror was barely keeping it together. One move too brutal and everything would fall apart, breaking into a million more pieces. Their reflections were distorted by the splits, one of the strikes ironically placed around Shuichi's head.

He could only stare, a hand clenching his heart and his mind drowning in never-ending dread.

(BGM)

They stared at themselves, not even daring to look at the other’s reflection, in a silence that he would have enjoyed at any other moment, but right now, he couldn’t describe it as anything other than suffocating.

His eyes drifted to the glass shards in the sink and the opened tubes of painkillers. The unpleasant smell was stronger, it was impossible to ignore it.

"..."

"Kirumi..."

She glanced at his reflection. "Yes?"

"Can we even stop them?"

She stayed silent for a moment, looking at herself.

"I don't know."

"The mastermind and their allies are powerful, and they seem to have total control over us."

"I would be lying if I said I truly believed everyone would get a happy ending."

Shuichi looked down.

"What even is a happy ending? One where we at least survive? Do we escape the academy? Will we able to go home?"

"What's... What's your happy ending, Kirumi?"

Her eyes widened a bit. Was she… caught off guard?

"..."

"... My happy ending, huh?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"It’s not like I can choose my destiny. The moment this game started, the possibilities for my future narrowed down to very few thin lines.”

“I do not care what happens to me in the end. I know my purpose was to stay alive at all costs, but… There’s no point believing in that anymore.”

“Perhaps I will die, perhaps I will live, and it doesn’t matter. What I truly wish for is to stay true to my morals.”

She paused.

“I know this might sound nonsensical, but I despise cruelty. I’ve seen many flaunting its greatness, but I always believed those people were the weakest humans to ever live.”

“Being cruel is admitting you are unable to suppress a mere urge, that you are nothing but an animal.”

“A simple proof of inhumanity.”

Her eyes hadn’t moved from her own reflection.

“I don’t want to die as a beast, a slave taking orders without second thought, nor as a killer.”

“My happy ending… is to die as Kirumi Tojo.”

…

Shuichi looked down.

“And you?”

His eyes darted up.

“What is yours?”

He looked back at himself.

... What was his happy ending?

"You don't have to answer me. All that matters is that you know what you want and what you believe in."

"Believe me, it takes a lot of mental strength to bring yourself to question all of this, but once you do, it's a new path that opens to you."

"One that you won't regret, even if things may not go exactly as you wanted."

She walked out of the bathroom.

"This killing game changed us all. It's our job to gather the misery and despair we felt for so long and throw it back in the faces of the wretched monsters who ruined our lives."

The sound of her heels faded away.

He stared at where she was standing for a minute before turning to the mirror again.

He wished to say his happy ending is one where they all escape and go home, but…

That was dream out of his reach, and he had to accept it.

Perhaps they would never stop those behind the scenes. Perhaps they would never find peace.

Perhaps they were all going to die.

But…

He couldn’t wallow in what-if’s.

He was going to fight until the end, for those who died, and those by his side.

He may never achieve a true happy ending, but to die trying to get it would be better than to let everyone’s sacrifices be in vain.

And he had just the right idea for a way to end this game.

After sharing one last glance with his shattered reflection, he left Rantaro's room.

He opened the door of the dorms building to see the long-haired woman standing there.

Kaito's exisal was down, surrounded by the four others.

The mecha opened to reveal their friend coughing. He lifted his head to look at them both. He was...

Defeated.

"Kaito!!"

Miu's voice echoed in the courtyard as she sprinted with Kokichi towards them.

"Puhuhu! My, my! You put up quite a fight! I'm impressed!"

Monokuma's laughter ringed in their ears.

"Unfortunately for you, it looks like your little temper tantrum is over!"

Kaito tried to get himself out of the exisal but was struggling to do so with only one functioning leg. Miu ran up to help him, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"So... How was your little period of free time without your beloved headmaster? Did you have fun running around? Going into my super-ultra-mega private rooms?"

"Fuck you." Kaito spat.

"I will take that as a yes!~" the robot laughed. "Now, now. Since this unwanted chaos is finally over, shall we-

"I demand a trial!!"

Everyone turned to the source of the voice.

Shuichi had taken a step forward. That might be the dumbest idea ever, but if this game had to end, it had to be like this.

He stared at the bear in the eyes.

“I want one last trial to end all of this.”

Kaito looked at him with eyes that screamed ‘what are you doing?’. But… That was the only way.

“Rantaro said it himself, this game is over. We have seen what was behind the scenes and we will not partake in this madness anymore!"

He pointed a finger at him. "This is your trial! Your trial as the culprit of everyone's murders in this killing game! And if you don’t want to accept this reason…”

“… Then think of this trial as the one for Keebo’s murderer, since you lied about Kaito being the culprit of the case.”

...

Monokuma looked surprised, although it was hard to read his mechanical face.

"Puhuhu... You do have some guts! Can’t say the same about my sweet monokubs… and myself, but that’s not the point.”

His glare did not falter.

“Very well! I accept the deal!”

"Everyone, please gather at the shrine of judgment!"

The bear and his cubs jumped away to their destination.

Once alone, everyone turned to him.

"Shuichi... Do you really think this is a good idea?"

He wanted to say he wasn't sure, but now wasn't the time to doubt.

"This is our only choice if we want to end the game. I don’t think Monokuma would have accepted to do anything else."

Kirumi crossed her arms. “Monokuma has already accepted the deal. I can’t say I had better ideas, though.”

Kokichi nodded in agreement.

Shuichi looked at his friends with a weak smile. "Let's end this, everyone."

Miu put a hand on his shoulder. "Then let's go. Together."

"You guys are going to have to sum up the situation for me, because I have zero clue how your investigation went." Kaito sighed.

The four others glanced at each other. He was lucky not to have seen the horrors of the mastermind’s room, but they would have to tell him at some point.

"We'll... We'll do that in due time, don't worry." Miu mumbled.

Kaito sensed her worry and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I know you guys did well. We'll talk about it during the trial, alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

They arrived at the shrine, which had been slightly damaged by the exisals. The elevator opened, and the five survivors stepped in.

This was it.

The final trial where everything would end.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest as they got closer and closer to the courtroom.

He glanced at each of his friends, the ones who were still alive with him.

Kokichi, who, despite the hardships he went through before and during the game, gathered the strength to surpass them all, with the help of the kind hearts of the group.

Kaito, who, despite his disability as well as the false accusations thrown against him during the third trial, was someone one could count on, a great friend who wouldn’t let you down.

Miu, who, despite her willingness to kill for her cherished son at the beginning of the game, turned her sorrow into determination to end the game and to fight against their captor, and used her compassion to help whoever needed her.

Kirumi, who, despite her title, was one of his greatest allies, helped him through the hardest times, as well as the rest of them with a great strength, intelligence, as well as the double-edged sword that her condition is.

Friends that he would never, ever forget.

…

The elevator ride was even longer than last time- were they in yet another room?

His question was quickly answered when the door opened.

The courtroom did not even look like one anymore. The decoration was as futuristic looking as the podiums, with bright neon colors vibrating in the dark. And yet, the room was illuminated well enough for them to be able to see each other clearly.

They went to their podiums. And now, eleven of them were occupied by portraits stained by pink crosses.

They looked at each other, all uncertain about the outcome.

But they had to do this.

This killing game was going to end, right here and there, at last.

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

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