#and thus can be easily missed from too far away

[rxttenfish]

it Happened Again

i swear at this point i need to just make a post explaining why sign language for deep sea animals just Doesn't Work in their given environment. because i keep seeing people trying to do that for inclusivity and it feels worse than just realizing that its probably not the best place for a spec evo species to focus exclusively on that.

or actually maybe i just need to make a post ranting about why the mermaids from Into The Drowning Deep are so bad and made no goddamn sense despite trying so hard to be hard spec evo

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[leathfaic]

I've been sitting on a headcanon for over a year now because I know that once I put it out I will want to expand on it.

But fuck it what is one more writing project?

I want Ghost to be fucking paranoid about Laswell finding out about him and Johnny. Not even because she would necessarily tear them apart but because she would absolutely use it. To her advantage and thus potentially against them.

Send them out on a dangerous undercover op for months under the guise of having left so they could be together. Infiltrating some dubious PMC perhaps that doesn't quite care, they're getting the Ghost and his Sergeant after all, if they just look the other way. What a fucking deal and how dumb the government is to let those 2 become mercenaries just because they like to fuck each other. One wrong step one wrong word and they might both end up dead.

But far more than physical harm just the threat of keeping them apart if they don't comply. Days that easily spin into weeks and months that they just keep missing each other, mission beginning before the other gets back from his current one. Until Laswell pointedly asking if they are going to behave this time is "graciously" giving them another chance to work together.

Because really, there's nothing they can do, right? They could be dishonourably discharged for fraternisation and instead Laswell is "only" using it to twist their arms.

Price, even if he knows can't really help them either because again, any kind of ruckus about this and it could end so much worse.

Soap probably has a little more faith in Laswells morals, although I'm sure the more they work together the more that quickly fades and he understands Ghost's caution. That woman got to where she is in life for a reason.

So they are still close with each other when she's around. Would be weird if they stopped all of a sudden, bound to draw her attention too. But always minding a careful line. Keeping it to the "brothers in arms". Never giving away too much. And sometimes that stings even more. When Ghost sees Johnny's need for physical contact and can't do more than give him a manly pat on the shoulder. Torn apart by the need to hold him.

When Soap notices that Ghost isn't sleeping on an op, knowing he should be there and talk him through the night until the bad dreams fade and Ghost gets at least a few hours of shut-eye. Nothing he can offer but empty phrases and a dumb comment about Ghost clearly needing to get laid.

They both know of course. What they really mean. It's still grating.

Better than it could be if she knew though. Worth to keep what they have safe.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

[bellafragolina]

Congrats on emptying your inbox!! If I may request, we've seen the s/o with Hanahaki, but what about Emmet and Ingo, separate please. It's another case of miscommunication, Emmet says nothing because you're in a relationship, a bad one that you're about to end, and Ingo says nothing because he thinks you're in a relationship, you aren't. With a happy ending please ;-;

so it's the boys spitting flowers?? i gotcha!

🍓🍓🍓

Emmet:

White hyacinth. Emmet twirls the flower between his fingers, scowling at the soft petals, speckled in blood. Of course, symbols of regret, that would be the flower chosen to encase his lungs and strangle him. Guess he is regretful, since he's let you run off into the arms of his worst enemy.

Sure, Emmet had no clue your boyfriend even existed before he became your boyfriend, but that didn't mean Emmet couldn't absolutely despise the guy. He does, very much so, and doesn't really try to hide it either. Emmet isn't good at lying, especially to you, so sadly. . . he's pushed you away a bit with his rivalry (one-sided rivalry at that).

And thus the flowers.

Emmet crushes the hyacinth in his palm, throwing it off into the living room. Not being able to breathe that well prevents him from going to work. He can't breathe because he can't confess his love to you. He can't do that because you're in a relationship. With a guy he hates. One he knows doesn't treat you half as good as Emmet would, if you were together.

The whole situation is a circle jerk of frustrating. And devastating. The white hyacinths make more sense now, because if there is one thing Emmet's feeling right now, it's a whole lot of regret.

A buzz gently knocks Emmet from his head. Begrudgingly, he checks the message, only to shockingly find your name displayed.

Coming over.

Plain and simple, a cut to the chase, but nerve-wracking all the same. Emmet rushes to tidy up and not look like he's dying, hands shaking as he paces and wonders what's happening. Did you want to hang out? Or was this some sort of intervention? Were you going to tell him you didn't want to be friends anymore?

That would kill him before any damn flower.

Emmet frets and worries, but still rushes to hug you when you throw open his front door. Your arms easily slide around his waist, soothing the worries and the flowers that make his chest feel so tight. Everything almost feels normal again, but then you pull away.

There are bags under you eyes, lines on your face that make you look far older than you are. The sight of them crushes Emmet's heart, but before he can even say anything, ask if you're alright, what's going on-

"I'm breaking up with him."

There's a self-assuredness to your voice that makes it seem so final, so simple. You're breaking up with your boyfriend, plain and simple. It's everything Emmet's been hoping to hear and then some, but he can't find it in him to be happy. Not when you look so tired.

"I. . ." Emmet swallows, struggling for the words to say. Would anything make this better? "I'm sorry."

You just shrug, and give him a sad little smile that cracks his already crushed heart. "Eh. It's whatever. He's a real son of a bitch, anyway." Your smile grows into more of a wry smirk. "But you already knew that, huh?"

Emmet ducks his head, almost ashamed, if not for the amusement that dances through your tired eyes.

"I need to listen to you more often." You say, chuckling. Emmet chuckles too, then it's quiet. Too quiet. You clear your throat to break it. "Do you. . . wanna hang out?"

"Yes." Emmet says immediately. He does. So badly. He missed you a lot. "I missed you. A lot."

That has you laughing, louder now. "Yeah?" Your smile is warm, as warm as the hand you curl around his. "I missed you too, big guy." You tug on his arm, so Emmet leans down, giddily accept the kiss to his cheek. "Come on. I've got a lot to make up to you."

"You do not have to." Emmet says, already dragging you out the door. He feels like he can breathe again. "But since you are offering, you will date me, and we will call it even."

You laugh, and the sound is perfect, especially when his own laughter, free and unhindered, joins in.

Ingo:

Ingo decides if there's one flower he doesn't like, it's tulips. Damned, horrid tulips. They fall out of his mouth, bell-shaped and yellow, stained with his sin of loving someone he can not have. He knows their meaning, knows how the spell out how hopeless he is, hopelessly in love, unrequited love.

But why is he to blame for that? How could he not fall in love? Everything he ever wanted fell into his lap, a perfect gift from those above, and what? Ingo wasn't supposed to see it? Wasn't supposed to grow close, to finally feel understood and like he could have the future he always dreamed of?

What did he do to deserve it all being snatched away from beneath his very feet, leaving him to stumble along where he thought he had a solid foundation.

Well, it isn't your fault either. You are everything, everything he ever wanted in a partner and then some. Days are lighter, easier, something to look forward to just because you're a part of it. Even a simple text from you could make his day amazing.

But you don't feel the same. No, instead there's another person, someone bolder, with less hang ups, someone not as hopeless as Ingo, who was able to ask you out. They didn't worry about anything, not like Ingo.

And now he has to bask in the consequences of being a hopeless, cowardly romantic.

At least you still hang out with him. At least Ingo still gets your presence in his life, not at all hindered by this partner of yours. You don't talk about them at all, perhaps to be kind to a man you no is drowning in a love you don't return.

But that's okay. Ingo will drown for you, if it means this simple happiness will stay.

Still, his body doesn't enjoy it. His lungs swell like they're going to burst, making it hard to breathe, hard to still be a Subway Boss to the people. He stays home some days, when the pain is at its worst, and just lies in bed, dreaming of a life he can't have.

And he wakes up to your hands in his hair, your tearful eyes peering at him from over the edge of the bed. It's a heartbreaking sight.

Ingo can barely croak out your name in concern.

You sniffle. "Emmet says you're dying." Ingo presses his lips into a thin line. He was sure Emmet didn't know, but maybe he did. He needs to apologize; this isn't something he should have to watch his twin go through. "Ingo. . ."

"I'll be okay." Ingo says, the quietest you've ever heard him. It doesn't help your tears, springing forth into full sobs that not even Ingo can soothe. "Shh, shh. . . It's alright."

"It's not!" You protest, shaking your head from the ghost of his clammy hands. "I love you and you're dying! In what world is that alright??"

Ingo just blinks up at you owlishly. ". . . what?"

"I love you." You tell him sternly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. Can you hear me now?" You press your mouth against his sweaty forehead, practically shouting it out to all of Nimbasa. "I LOVE YOU! So no, this is not alright-"

You're cut off by a hand on the back of your neck, bringing you down into the sloppy kiss of one ecstatic and delirious Ingo Trevithick.

You'll laugh about it later, Ingo is sure. You'll all laugh about how silly this all was, how silly you all were. But until then, Ingo will take the first full, deep breath he's had in ages, and sob into your mouth in utter relief.

Seems he isn't so hopeless after all.

🍓🍓🍓

ta-da! i did my best to follow your guidelines, so i hope you like them!

ciao!

~Renee

[pedgito]

i can’t stop thinking about eddie eating reader out in his throne chair after a d&d game pls i NEED it

author’s note: when i tell you i screamed as soon as this request came in, i can’t even explain the feelings i’m having.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), semi-public (they’re alone and don’t get caught), more acquaintances with benefits, eddie has a small crush on reader, mentions of eddie losing his virginity to reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, assisted masturbation, eddie’s such a giver no one can tell me differently, lots of dirty talk, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 3k

You never noticed how often Eddie stayed late after Hellfire’s weekly D&D sessions—not until you started staying around too. Your acquaintance with him had been gradually growing and his hesitancy at letting you in the club at the beginning had been obvious and with a lot of added tension.

Maybe his anxiety of having you join came from the intimidation he felt from you—it’s how you liked to think of it, but he never had any good, valid reasoning for it. Eventually, with some convincing on Dustin’s part, Eddie gave in. Eddie would come to his senses after several weeks, a few months of your insistent cheerful attitude and mission to change his view on you.

And it wasn’t that Eddie looked at you negatively, that wasn’t even close to his opinions on you—he just couldn’t stand how easily you checked off all his boxes. He thinks it’s just a coincidence when he sees you wearing a Def Leppard shirt, similar to one he had shoved in the back of his drawer, but then it happens again with Dio, then Metallica, and Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind. You’ve always got your Walkman attached to your jeans and your headphones secured on over your ears and he can hear the beat of his favorite Ozzy songs as it blares through, the music flooding his own ears as you sifted through your locker beside him, but when Dustin finally drags you along to your first Hellfire meeting, Eddie can’t stand it.

Forget how much he complained about needing another person to fill out the table, or someone to fill in for Lucas’ growing absence, because when you walked through that door, all urgency suddenly faded away.

It wasn’t a no—rather an absolutely not.

Eddie still caved regardless; Dustin was an excellent negotiator.

Eddie gives you the cold shoulder for about three weeks; minimal conversation, barely any actual eye contact with you, but then you end up spending one night helping him clean up after a particularly rowdy session—half eaten chip bags, cold pizza, and empty soda cans strung about like a tornado had blown through. You’re not sure why you offered to help, but you did.

Selfishly, you were hoping Eddie would finally give up his defensive act of wanting nothing to do with you. But, he doesn’t—in fact, he’s probably more stubborn in that moment of you two being alone than he ever has been, but you can’t ignore the several times you catch him glancing over, eyes peeking up from where his head was downturned, trying to keep himself busy.

You were beyond it—taking matters into your own hands.

You shoved yourself between the table and him and he kissed you without question—heated and forceful, clearly he’d been holding this back for a while. It’s a dangerous routine you two fall into from then on and it never leaves the four walls of that theater room, like it doesn’t exist outside of there.

And Eddie should feel horrible for defacing school property in such away, but it’s the only area of the school that lends some remnant of privacy, sectioned off from the main building, and everyone was already long by the time you two started up—if it ever got that far, which was typically always.

It was a full-fledged addiction and Eddie couldn’t get enough.

Thus, how things ended up the way they did tonight in particular. Eddie was frustrated most of the day, it wasn’t hard to notice, but you don’t pry—you never did. It was an unspoken rule and you both respected it. But, you weren’t completely soulless and cheering him up seemed like the best option, even if the sex was better when he was tense and riled up.

You plop down his throne, a velvet cushion surrounded by intricate wooden design carved into the backing, it was a cheap knock-off of something that could potentially be worth the money—but Eddie loved it, cherished it, and never let anyone sit in it, not even you. His back is turned to you, muttering around with something near the entrance, shoving and stuffing some items away, only when you clear your throat does he finally look over his shoulder.

You expect him to make some snide comment or ask you to move, but he doesn’t, his eyes darkening slightly. And that scares you more than anything, body tingling with anticipation. He thumbs at the lock, flicking it closed and blindly reaches for a chair, forcing it under the doorknob for extra security.

You already know what’s coming, pressing against the arms of the chair to lift yourself up and out, but Eddie shakes his head, stalking toward you.

“Don’t move”. He tells you, voice smooth and confident.

You gently sit back down, watching as he wiggles his way between the table and chair, the legs of the throne squeaking slightly as he shifts it back.

“You’re not mad?” You ask curiously, head peering up to look at him from where he’s settled between your legs, hands pressed against the arms of the chair too, covering yours.

He shakes his head casually. “I mean—yeah, it’s my chair, but I only say all that shit so Dustin keeps his hands off, that kid would be power drunk if I let him DM for a night.”

“Fair point.” You nod slightly, eyeing the growing smirk on Eddie’s face. “I don’t like that look—“

“Why not?” Eddie asks teasingly, knee bumping your own to spread your thighs further apart. You didn’t wear skirts often, but the humid Indiana weather wasn’t too kind near the end of Spring and you really wanted to wear it anyways.

“It’s never a good sign.” You tell him, his figure sinking further down until he’s settled on his knees, wrestling with your legs until they’re resting over his broad shoulders. “See?”

Eddie laughs into the skin at the bend of your knee, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses into the dip of it, never trailing further up your thigh—he was waiting for something, eyes locked on yours.

“We’re out of condoms, Eddie.” You remind him, “We can’t.”

“I can fix that.” Eddie supplies—the hot, calloused palm of his hands roaming up your legs and over your thighs, squeezing at the flesh until you’re keening forward, hands shifting behind you onto the pad of the chair, trying to keep yourself from slipping any further forward. “I don’t need to fuck you to feel good.”

“Is that so?” You ask, watching his smirk grow into a full grin, finger squeezing harder, cunt clenching underneath the cover of your skirt.

“This is already doing enough for me,” He chuckles softly, your mouth falling open slightly as his fingers dip underneath your skirt, pulling at the hem of your underwear, “do you mind?”

You shake your head furiously and it’s all Eddie needs to break the dam, pulling at the material with fervor, already soaked with your wetness—and he somehow manages to make the awkward fidgeting even more endearing as he finally gets the last bit of your lace panties past your ankle, dropping them to the floor carelessly.

“Don’t hold back,” He reminds you, leaving a hot, saliva slick trail of kisses up your inner thigh, hands cupping under your calves until he can adjust your ass near the edge of the chair, giving him perfect access to your throbbing cunt, glistening with sticky arousal, “you know I hate it.”

The first contact of his tongue against your cunt is like electricity jolting through your body, gasp ripping from your chest as he licks you fully, moaning at the way you coat his tongue.

“Gonna make a mess of this chair, aren’t you?” He comments redundantly, lips closing over your clit gently as he sucks, one of the hands used to prop yourself upright shooting to his wild and untamed curls, entangling into them, hand molding the curve of his head as you guiding him slightly, hips rutting shamelessly into his waiting mouth.

You nod dumbly, head falling back as your breath quickened. “The velvet, it’s gonna get ruined.” You complain, voice catching on the last word as one of his hands joins his diligently working mouth, slapping at your cunt gently, the cool air of the hit a shock to your system. He laughs quietly at your reaction, startled and half-frustrated as your eyebrows knit together, staring daggers into his obscured face, tongue rubbing slow circles against the delicate bundle of nerves. He drags two fingers, your preferred middle and ring, through your excessive wet arousal and dips them into your waiting hole with no resistance, his face lighting up at your wrecked tone, letting out a broken sob at how easily his fingers sink into you.

“Who cares—“ Eddie replies, “so pretty like this, like a queen or whatever that saying is—“

“A throne fit for a queen?” You guess, a small laugh escaping your chest. “I’m honored, truly.”

“Yeah—yeah, that.” Eddie was only a savant with words when he felt like it, and right now he was far too distracted. “Wider, sweetheart.”

You obey, stretching your legs open further, letting him adjust you until they hang over the armrests, giving him even more room to work, both hands free.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” Eddie tells you through muffled tone, his mouth occupied with your throbbing heat, “it’s fucking ridiculous.”

Despite the overwhelming pleasure you feel in the moment, you’re puzzled at the comment, remembering how he opted to leave out the fact that he was a virgin until his dick was already buried inside of you the first time, fucking you sloppily over the table.

“Wait—I thought,” You start, sensing the beginning of an incoming banter, but it dies on your tongue, just as Eddie’s prods inside of you, his idle fingers traveling up to your clit, giving it a deserved amount of attention.

“Just take the compliment.” Eddie grumbles against you.

You laugh softly, enjoying how easy it was to frustrate him. But the rumble of his voice against your cunt is satiating a need you didn’t know you had, the full vibrations like magic.

You hum slightly, “Keep talking.” You encourage him.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow from below, half of his face buried in your core. “I’m a little busy.” He protests. You tug at his hair slightly, pulling his face away from your cunt, “—oh, you’re serious?”

There was something about his voice—warm and soothing, it brought you comfort, but the calming contrast of his voice as he spoke such filthy words was stomach-clenching, making your brain go fuzzy and lose all sense of time and thought.

“Oh—okay,” He nods, taking a short breath before letting his fingers take over for a moment, staring up at you wantonly, eyes wider than ever as you pull at his hair more, a soft grunt leaving his lips, “fuck—I really like that.”

“I know.” You reply confidently.

Eddie senses your pride, feeling the need to knock you down a peg—it’s not that he didn’t mind the easy switch in dynamics, but he needed to feel that control tonight, even if it required embarrassing you a little.

“Almost as much as I like watching you touch yourself,” He says, gripping the wrist of the hand bound in his hair, pulling gently until you released him, “—go on, since you felt the need to sit in my chair without asking.”

“But, you said—“

Eddie chin tilts up, head cocking to the side in warning.

“You’re so annoying,” You mumble, listening despite his obvious ego as it oozes from him, you lean forward and press two fingers to his lips and Eddie doesn’t even question it, wetting them gleefully with his tongue—and maybe you get too greedy, causing Eddie to pull tug your hand away, pressing it carefully to your already sensitive cunt, the pads of your fingers resting over your aching core, dragging through your folds and over your clit. Eddie let’s go then, using both hands to grip at your thighs, holding you open as you touched yourself.

You know he’s definitely straining in his jeans, hard cock pressed against the line of his zipper—so you imagine how pretty he looks bare, ruddy tip pressing up against the start of his stomach as he kneels before you.

He’s watching, unashamed—lips pink and swollen as he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. You’ve never felt embarrassed or ashamed around Eddie, a stark contrast to any other person you’ve been with—Eddie adores every part of you, from head to toe, beginning to end, it’s everything you could want in a sexual partner—serious or not.

“Do you wanna come?” Eddie asks challengingly.

“Yes—yeah, I do.” You answer softly, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your fingers circle your clit, apply the perfect amount of pressure. You could applaud Eddie on how attuned he was with your body, but nobody knew it better than you.

“Fuck, look at you,” He replies with admiration, watching the way you cunt clenched around nothing, aching to be filled, “—god, I could fuck you right now.”

“Can’t.” You reply breathless, adamant on your safe-sex stance.

“I know,” Eddie agrees, “but, I can dream, right?”

“Dream all you want,” You snark, “but finish what you started.”

He laughs slightly, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right—sorry, sweetheart.”

Your fingers alone were enough, but you were being selfish, seeking the feeling of his tongue as it flattened against you, the ungodly noise as he ducks and laps at your slick, drinks it in like nothing, eyes peering up at you daringly, waiting for more.

You whine as his tongue works you over, his body unable to resist as his fingers join again too, filling you up with three instead of two, and it’s a lot to take in, even for you, his fingers mirror the girth and width of his own dick almost, long and thick, the blunt edge of his rings pressed up against your core.

“Look at me,” He muffled into your cunt, pulling back slightly to look at you, mouth glistening with wetness, “—want you to look at me when you come.”

You nod deftly, fingers working quickly to relieve that painful ache of an impending orgasm, mouth hung open on a soundless gasp as you tip over the edge—your vision whites out and you’re almost certain you go blind for half a second, not even remembering half of the encouraging, sappy shit Eddie says to you as you work through it—it’s like white noise.

“That’s good,” Eddie says softly, “—fuck you’re so warm.”

You almost forget his fingers are still buried inside you until he’s pulling them out, gently resting your back down to a more comfortable position, hips screaming for relief.

He takes his fingers in his mouth, sucking greedily—Eddie’s never been one to shy away from typically grosser stuff, he wasn’t ashamed of any of it. He’d just as easily shove his tongue in your mouth after coming down your throat, it made no difference to him.

You let out a rough sigh, making a weak motion to your discarded panties on the floor. Eddie laughs softly, reaching for the garment to shove them in your waiting hand.

“I hope you’re good at getting stains out ” You comment, feeling the wet, sticky puddle under your ass—a mix of his saliva and you, leaving a growing mark in the material.

Eddie makes a face of uncertainty, “Yeah, not so much.” He brushes it off, “Either way, no one’s gonna know.”

Which was true, it was just as indiscernible as all the other stains riddling the furniture in that room.

“Besides, there’s gonna be a few more by next week.” He comments slyly, you pull your underwear back on, lifting yourself from the chair with shaky, weak legs.

Eddie sees it, reaching for your arm immediately.

“Woah,” He smiles, “don’t go down just yet.”

“Oh, shut up.” You say playfully, shoving his hand away when you feel stable enough. “What are you even getting at?”

Eddie’s smile turns devious, crowding into your space as you fall back against the edge of the table, succumbing to another compromisable position.

“You, me,” His finger trails from himself to you, “and a lot of free time next Friday after the campaign.”

You smile slightly, patting his chest gently.

“Yeah—if someone can actually remember to bring protection.” You remind him, his face falling slightly.

“I told you I can pull out.” Eddie says defensively, voiced raised in offense.

“With your track record?” You ask, eyebrows raised in question. “I don’t think so.”

“It was one time—and the condom broke.” He tries to argue. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“You’re not knocking me up.” You tell him, finger shoving at the center of his chest. “We’re not even friends, Eddie. We just fuck, right? That’s what we agreed on.”

Eddie shrugs indifferently. “I mean, we could be friends.”

Your lips pull into a tight smile, smugness flooding your features. “If only you didn’t despise my literal existence on a daily basis.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie nods in agreement, moving to allow you room to escape his entrapment. “If only.”

“At least the sex is good.” You shrug, grabbing your backpack. “Give me a ride?”

Eddie laughs at the hidden meaning, mind running with unspeakable thoughts. He senses your disapproving look, fixing himself immediately.

“Yes ma’am.” He clears his throat, throwing up a mock salute. “It would be a pleasure.”

He always manages to sneak his dirty thoughts in somehow, earning a soft smack on his arm in return. You weren’t good at resisting though, knowing that there was truth to it—Eddie was impossible to quit.

[lightlycareless]

The complete work of the snippet I posted yesterday :) warnings: fluff. mentions of pregnancy. highly indulgent. enjoy!

Naoya is usually the one to call you first during missions, the one to check in with you every so often just to see how you are and vice versa. Thus, it’s easily become one of his favorite moments when away: getting to talk to you about the strange, sometimes stupid occurrences that happen in his work, while you listen intently, tell him of your day or while reminding him of how you miss him oh so greatly and couldn’t wait for him to get back home.

He’s never asked, nor expected you to take the initiative, knowing well the dangers of his career could only heighten if you do so, but he won’t deny that there weren’t moments where he hoped you’d be the one to call him when he needs you most. Naoya always gets excited when he hears the first Hello? When you finally pick up the call, after all…

However, when you finally had the initiative to contact him, seemingly unprovoked while in the middle of a mission…

Far from being enthralled, he was worried.

“If you can, get back home as soon as possible”

Because of the previous arrangement, you never, ever contacted him, less it was to be an emergency… which is why he was catapulted to imagine nothing but the worst.

The fear of this thought is what pushes Naoya to quickly wrap up whatever it was that he was working on and quickly make his way back to the estate, offering no explanations nor apologies, simply rushing past everyone as soon as he arrived and going straight to your location, to the garden he knew he’d always find you in, in the company of your loyal staff.

Upon hearing his rushed footsteps and receiving one of your maiden’s confirmation, you gasp, quickly turning around to acknowledge your husband and give him a big, warm smile, jumping on your feet to give him an equally big and warm hug, which your husband instinctively receives eagerly, quickly diving into the embrace of his beloved wife, until remembering why he was so urged in the first place, eventually pulling away.

“What’s wrong, dear?” you ask upon seeing his concerned face.

“What do you mean what’s wrong—you—you sent me a message asking me to get back home quickly!” He frowns, unease evident in his voice. “Are you ok? What happened?!”

“What message…” you frown, before gasping with realization “Oh, that one! I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Then what did you mean?” Naoya persists, his heart barely starting to calm down. “What could I possibly make out of that message without getting worried?”

“… I didn’t mean to upset you… I just missed you” you pout, and regret for having spoken to you quickly settles in his chest.

“I missed you too” Naoya sighs, taking you once more in his arms. He could never get angry at you. “But you got me worried, what was I supposed to think after you never send me anything? If it’s nothing urgent just let me know next time, ok?”

“Well… Actually… it is urgent—There is something I need to tell you.”

Your words push Naoya back to square one, with his heart down to his stomach and the worst things he could think of flashing across his mind. But when he sees the gleeful, giggling look of your staff, giving you one last cheerful pat on the back before leaving the two alone, he now feels confused.

Once out of your eyeshot, you look back to your husband, taking his hands and pressing your lips together, mustering all the courage you could find before starting.

“I didn’t want to tell you at first but… I was actually a bit sick these past few days.”

“What?” Naoya breathes. “And why didn’t you tell—”

“Because I knew you’d get like this” you pout—he sighs. You got him there, that much he’ll admit.

“…Alright well, are you better now at least?”

“Mmhm.” you nod “It wasn’t that serious, but it does have to do with what I want to tell you.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad! I swear… I think”

“You think?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then I rather not tell you.” You frown, crossing your arms.

“Princess, you know I didn’t mean that.” He chuckles, you sigh.

“…Anyways, I went to the doctor because I was feeling quite nauseous… at first I thought it was because I ate something bad, or because I didn’t rest well—”

“Did you go by yourself?” Naoya asks. He was already on edge for the fact that you were ill… so please, at least tell him you were accompanied.

“No, of course not. I went with Mariya. She’s the one that drove me there.” a member of your staff, your most trusted one. Whenever she was involved Naoya knew he could rest easy.

“What happened? Why were you sick?”

“I told him my symptoms, and after a few more questions, he told me to do some tests, and turns out that I’m—!”

Your face was beaming with excitement up to that point, but for some reason, as soon as you were to reveal the tests results, the light in your face begins to diminish, almost as if you were realizing the gravity of miscalculations, that what you perceived as positive…

Might not have the same effect on your husband.

“I’m…”

And seeing the way your enthusiasm slowly dies is what hurts Naoya more than anything in the world, pushing his mind to think nothing but the worst.

“What happened? What’s wrong?!” Naoya frets—he doesn’t want to even consider it, less think about it, but your reaction is one that leads him to believe that the doctor might’ve concluded that your time here is limited.

“I’m—I…” you continue to stammer, tears now overflowing your eyes. “I—I’m ….”

“What? What are you Y/N??” he breathes.

“I’m… pregnant” and then, you break down into sobs, covering your face with your hands as the world faces your undeniable truth.

The thing that tormented you so much, and now, Naoya too.

But as much as your voice sounded clear and undisputable in his ears, he still had trouble believing your words. Did he hear you wrong? Made up what you thought you said… or what he longed instead?

No. That couldn’t be it—and nothing you did could indicate a prank either, because the tears in your eyes alongside the tremble in your voice was real. Besides, it wasn’t like you to joke about something as sensitive as this. If this is what you had to tell him, it’s solely because it was the truth.

“Y/N—How—” he begins, unsure how to proceed, still processing the news.

“I—I mean… we know how, right?! We’ve… done it enough but—but that’s not what worries me!” you gasp, removing your hands from your face.

“Is it the doctor? Did the doctor tell you something? We can get a second opinion—we’ll get someone else if that’s what you—”

It was always funny to see how Naoya naturally followed your lead—if you fret, so did he. He just had to be on the same page as you.

“It’s not that! I’m fine, I think… until now…” you press your eyebrows together. “It’s just that I didn’t realize what this would mean for us! For you! What was I even thinking?!”

Your reaction ends up hurting Naoya far more than he anticipated, because more than worrying about the risks this pregnancy entailed, you cared more for him. His opinion… and where this relationship will stand afterwards.

It’s almost as if you… as if you didn’t want the child.

“I can’t put this burden on you when you’re so busy all the time. A child can’t fit in your schedule!” you cry. “What am I going to do—"

“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing” Naoya frowns “Where did you get this idea from? The idea I wouldn’t want a child with you?”

“… Because we haven’t spoken much about it.”

Truth to be told, this would have to be one of the less common talked about topics between the two—sure, the thought of having a chibi Naoya, or a chibi Y/N running around the estate has crossed their minds, a small bundle of joy to lighten up their day a tiring long one at work.

But raising a child entailed so much more than that, much more than just doting on them. Their mere presence demanded great sacrifices to be made:

Such as the physical stress your body will go through to harbor this baby, and eventually, Naoya’s career.

He’s a grade 1 sorcerer, one of the most sought-after positions when it comes to his field, and as dangerous it can get. There’s always a possibility, no matter how accomplished Naoya was, that he won’t make it back. That one day, he’d no longer respond to your messages… and that’ll be the end of him.

The mere thought of it broke your heart—but now that there’s someone else involved, it frightened you.

You didn’t want the baby to go through what you have: the countless days without seeing him, constantly wondering if he’ll come back or not…

Oh, how could you even think this was anything joyful in the first place?!

“I guess we haven’t” Naoya affirms. “But that doesn’t change what feel—not even the slightest.”

You raise your eyes to him, hesitant.

“I want to have the baby.” he confesses, and your heart sinks.

“You… do?”

He nods.

“But why?”

“Why? Why wouldn’t I want a family with the love of my life?” Naoya remarks, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, maybe even feeling a bit offended by your skepticism.

“You—you want… the baby?” you caution, he nods once more.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that the thought of him harboring something a bit more… intimate with you, had enthralled him.

The idea of him coming back from the solitude of his missions to the warmth of his home, welcomed by an extra pair of eyes that would brighten up as soon as seeing him walk past the door, excited to hear of his day….

An additional giggle to receive silly antics with, a cute frown to make when disapproving of others, console them when saddened or frightened, remind them that their papa will always be there to protect them…

Someone he could instill his knowledge of sorcery, train with, maybe even go on missions together…

Or just seeing them grow, become the person they were destined to be, which Naoya knows will be great because they come from you….

Naoya had long admitted to himself that he wanted that. He wanted to experience that part of life with you—what it is to be a father, to be part of a family.

So yes.

He wants to keep the baby.

But if you don’t feel confident about it… he won’t force you either.

“Yes.” Naoya reiterates. “I want to form a family with you—but… if you’re not ready, we don’t have to make that decision now.”

“But we don’t have much time to think” you murmur.

“We can take it one day at a time.” He reassures “There is no rush.”

“What about you?” you ask, now that it’s known he wants the baby… wouldn’t it be selfish to make this decision all by yourself?

“What about me?” Naoya asks, smiling as he combs one of your hair threads behind your ear.

“Well… I just… I don’t know, what if I decide I don’t want to have the baby but you—you do…”

“As much as I would love to have a child with you… you’re the one that matters to me the most.”

At his words, your lips begin to tremble as another sob escapes your mouth, hands raising to your face yet again to cover the tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Oh, Y/N…” he coos, quick to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss on the top of your head. “It’ll be alright. You just have to take it easy, take some time to think, I’m sure there will be no problem—”

“I want the baby.” You suddenly declare, he blinks, startled.

“Huh?” Naoya expected you to decide in due time, maybe next week or even a month after… certainly not this fast.

“I… I want the baby” you continue. “I wanted it since I knew I was pregnant—or even before that, really…”

And Mariya, your prime lady-in-waiting could attest to this fact, for the way your face light up at the revelation, quick to hold your stomach where your unborn child was now resting, was one she’d never forget.

This sentiment had come to you when seeing families spending time together, their adorable little babies curiously looking at their surroundings, dressing them up in cute onesies, couples gushing at their kids whenever doing something equally lovable—

Or when you’d seen a pregnant woman walking through the baby section with their partner, deciding what kind of furniture would suit better their nursery, what colors to match, what names to choose…

You’ve long come to the decision that if it ever were to happen, you’d be elated to receive your new family, but that was something you always assumed to depend on Naoya.

Unbeknownst to you, you were the one that inspired him to want such thing, having seen you quietly admire families, caught you looking at baby clothes when shopping, or even hear you openly enthuse about them with your fellow ladies-in-waiting…

He never knew he wanted something with such passion, after you of course, until he saw it. And now, it was safe to say that out of the two, Naoya is the one that desired to have a family the most.

Because that’s something that many didn’t know about him: that deep beneath the arrogant, cold façade of heir he always needed to portray, was a man who desperately desired to love, and be loved.

He never thought himself capable of yearning such happiness and was even in the way of becoming the conceited man everyone expected him to be—until he met you.

You’ve changed his life so much, in ways that he couldn’t even imagine, showed him a world full of color when all that he’d ever seen was gray.

And now… he’s going to have a family with you.

Even after you’ve given him so much, you were still to give him more.

Truly, meeting you was the best thing that could’ve ever happened in his life, and he would give up everything just to meet you again in the next life, and the next one, and the rest to come.

“Really?” he asks softly, wanting to hear your comforting words once more. “Do you really… want to keep the baby?”

“I do” you nod. “The thought of having a family has been on my mind for a while now, but after much thinking… I can finally say I’m ready.”

Naoya’s heart skips a beat.

“I’m finally ready to take the next step with you, Naoya. I’m finally ready… to have a family with you.”

Naoya smiles, his heart soaring up at the thought of creating something between the two, something made from the love both had for one another—and the overwhelming need to embrace you, as well as the tears forming in his eyes, overcomes him.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world yet again, Y/N.” Naoya quietly sniffles, hugging you tighter. “It’s frightening, yes, but with you by my side, I know we can overcome anything.”

You smile, leaning into his chest.

“I guess we better start with my next doctor’s appointment.” You murmur.

“As I told you, we can take it easy” he reassures you. You already went to the doctor quite recently; he wants to spoil you a bit before going off to your next checkup—or before your family win’s him to it, Naoya knows very well that your dad will want all of your attention now that he’ll have his first grandson, or daughter. Or niece/nephew for your siblings. “What about cravings? Have you gotten any?”

“No… I mean, maybe” you frown. “I just ate but I feel like I could still eat anything!”

“Whatever my princess wants” Naoya smiles. “Or princesses”

“Princesses?” you raise your eyebrows. “You think we’re going to have a daughter? Why do you think so?”

“A father just knows” he shrugs, you laugh.

“Seems like fatherhood fits you quite well, Naoya! You surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he frowns.

“Oh, nothing—Ah, I know what I want, how about some pasta? From that Italian place you took me to a long time ago!”

“Don’t change the subject now, Y/N” he pressures. “What did you mean by that?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you giggle, Naoya smirks.

“Oh, you know very well what I mean!” Naoya doesn’t give you a moment to counter before he’s placing hands behind your legs and back, swiftly pulling you up afterwards.

“Naoya!” you gasp, tightly holding onto his shoulders. “Put me down!”

“Nope, not until you tell me what you meant with that!”

“It was a joke! A joke!” You nervously laugh, more so when he begins to kiss your cheek. “Stop it! You’re—someone is going to see us!”

“Let them” he says, kissing you one more time. “Let them see how you’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

And Naoya meant those words, whenever he uttered them, he always said them from the bottom of his heart.

Because from the moment he met you, to when he married you, and now… Naoya has consistently experienced what true happiness was and would do anything to make the woman of his dreams feel the same way.

Even if there were many preparations to do, many calls to make and names to choose—his utmost priority was making his wife happy, comfortable, loved. To give you what he promised you the day of your wedding: the world, the moon, and the stars.

And now, for their children too.

Could this be a predecessor to the twin daughters saga? perhaps...

[sunshinesteviee]

bestie, bestie i LOVE these prompts: "soft looks across a long table" and "innocent touches when they’re close" for friends to lovers with stevie?

eeee friends to lovers, my beloved <33333 i really like this one, so i hope y'all do too! gn!reader (i think!! lmk if i missed something); wc: 1k

-

Steve knows you better than anyone else. It’s to be expected when you’ve been best friends for over five years. And still, knowing that he really gets you, knows how you’re feeling just from looking at you, stirs up the butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart pound in your chest. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the crush on Steve you’ve been harboring. Probably. Maybe. 

You’re at the diner with all of your friends on a rare occasion that everyone is home and accounted for, sitting at the other end of the table from Steve as you talk to Nancy about how college is going for her. You can feel a pair of eyes on you as you talk to her, and you know it’s Steve. It’s always Steve. 

In a lull of your conversation, you turn to take a sip of your drink and find Steve’s eyes still on you. His elbow is on the table in front of him, chin propped up in his hand as he looks at you, an involuntary flush crawling up his neck as your eyes meet. Still, he tilts his head slightly and raises his eyebrows; a silent ask of ‘you okay?’

Because it’s Steve, you know exactly what he’s asking, and you nod, your lips tugging up at one side as you try to ignore your rapid heart beat. He knows work has been killing you lately and that you’d had a rough day, going so far as to suggest the two of you skip the dinner if you weren’t feeling up to it. Of course you couldn’t miss this time with your friends, but you appreciate he’d asked, and was now — albeit silently — checking in on you. 

Nodding, Steve returns your smile easily, brushing a stray hair out of his face as he keeps his eyes trained on you for a few more seconds. Dustin is quick to grab his attention, though, snapping Steve out of his near trance-like state. As his eyes flick away, it’s like you’re brought back down to earth as well, a familiar fluttering feeling kicking up in your chest. 

“What was that about?” Nancy asks from beside you, a knowing smirk on her lips as she glances across the table to Steve and then back to you. 

“What?” you ask, glancing back at Nancy, feeling the heat of embarrassment again, “Nothing.” She gives you a disbelieving look, and you immediately feel flustered, “Nothing! I swear.”

“Yeah, okay,” she snorts, lifting her own drink to her lips to take a sip before changing the subject — some story about her boss at her new internship — and you’re thankful she doesn’t pry any more. What would you even say? That you’re in love with your best friend even though you’re almost positive he doesn’t feel the same way?

—

An hour later, and all of the kids have been picked up, leaving just the older group behind. You’ve left your spot at the opposite end of the table now that there are less of you, opting to settle into the one next to Steve. Nancy shoots you another knowing look as she does the same next to Jonathan, curling into his side. Ignoring her look, you give Steve a smile as you scoot in a bit closer. 

“Hey, babe,” he says softly, leaning back in his seat and extending the arm closest to you over the back of your chair. 

You can feel the warmth radiating from him through the back of your shirt and you subconsciously lean into his touch. Your cheek presses into your shoulder as you gaze up at him, “Hi, Stevie.”

Steve leans in so he can speak to you quietly, the tips of his fingers brushing over your shoulder lightly, “You still doing okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, inching your chair closer to Steve’s so you can rest your head against his shoulder instead, “‘M tired, but happy to see everyone.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, and though you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m glad.” His hand closes around your upper arm to pull you into his side, thumb nudging underneath the hem of your sleeve to rub gentle circles into your skin.

It’s hard to participate in the conversation that your friends are having with how tired you are, as well as the weight of Steve’s hand on your arm, so you settle for leaning into Steve’s grasp. Your eyes flutter closed, and it’s only a matter of minutes before you doze off, asleep on Steve’s shoulder. He doesn’t notice right away, though his gentle touch is part of what lulls you to sleep; only aware of your soft, even breaths when Robin points it out, wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

Sending Robin the best glare he can muster, Steve tilts down to glance at you, his cheek pressing against your hair. You are fast asleep, just like Robin said, eyelashes kissing your cheeks, lips parted slightly. He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you asleep against him for a moment. Forgetting all of his other friends sitting around the table, Steve’s hand leaves your shoulder as his fingers curl, knuckles brushing over the gentle slope of your cheek. His lips ghost over your temple as he murmurs, “Hey, you.” 

It takes a few seconds — and a few more gentle strokes against your cheek — before you’re blinking awake, voice laced with sleepiness and confusion as you blink up at Steve, “Hmm?” 

“Fell asleep in the diner, babe,” Steve explains, his voice still soft with adoration, “Want me to take you home?” 

“Mm…” you pause to yawn, pressing your face further into the crook of Steve’s neck as he gently cups the side of your head in his hand to keep you close, “Yeah, in a minute.” 

“Sure, babe,” he says, his own heart pounding in his chest so hard he’s surprised you haven’t said anything, “In a minute.” 

[tinandabin]

THE CREATOR'S BELOVED pt.3

____

You had grown quite tired of living in this same old bland room. And it isn't like the archons were hovering above you 24/7 like some kind of mosquito. I mean, they did have their duties to attend to after all. So most of the time you were left in the care of some servants and a few knights here and there.

You are but a weak, fragile mortal in their eyes. They weren't really all that worried about you running away, look at it, where could you even run away? No matter where you would still be in Teyvat so they would find you one way or another. Sure, it was annoying. But who was to say you can't leave Teyvat? There isn't really any concrete evidence. If you can be brought into this world, then surely you can also leave. That's how it always works.

Thinking of it now, it was weird. Like Genshin Impact is just a game. How could you even be brought here? As the 'Creator's beloved' nonetheless. All of this thinking was making your head hurt.

Exiting your room, you causally made your way towards the front door intending to leave as quickly as you can. But of course, things never go the way you want.

"Your Creator's Beloved, I do not think that you are permitted to leave at this time of the day." The head maid told you. She told you the same phrase everyday and you would sigh and go back to your room every single day. But man, not today. Today you were gonna wreak havoc upon everyone.

"Oops, would you look at that? I seem to have run out of the fucks I give."

"Your Creator's Beloved, that is extremely rude and inappropriate! I forbid you from going out."

"And I forbid you from speaking to me, bye Becca."

"Huh? That is not my na-" Before she could finish her sentence, you had already made your leave and were running faster than 'Becca' could with her old miserable legs. You didn't win gold medals in every marathon in your school for nothing.

___________

You didn't quite know which state you were in, none of the archons bothered telling you. You were but a mere decoration meant to please this Creator of theirs. You felt pissed. So obviously, you went and punched a tree and 2 or 3 lavender melons fell. At least you knew where you were now. Inazuma. Had the traveller reached here? Or were they still in Liyue perhaps? Maybe they could help you escape. I mean, they too are an outlander. Probably the only one to understand your struggles.

"Hey boss, check out that chick over there!"

"Damn, she would probably fetch a good amount."

You heard some voices not too far away and saw the treasure hoarders you would kill for your Kaeya. They rarely fucking dropped golden raven insignia.

"No thanks," You mumbled, getting ready to run away because you were no way in hell gonna fight these jacked-up guys. It was way easier to fight them in the game, but in real bro. You don't even have a fucking vision. The disrespect. Couldn't you at least have a vision? What's the point in being the creator's beloved.

And so you ran.

Well, you tried to. Hey, at least you tried! It's the thought that counts.

Somehow, don't ask how, somehow the Treasure Hoarders tied you up and were just talking within themselves. Rude to not even include you in the conversation!! Bitches.

"Man, her clothes look so luxurious too! Is she a rich man's daughter or some?"

"We ought to let her go. What if we get caught? Wouldn't be surprised. She looks hella loaded.."

And thus an argument began. Whether to let you go or keep you. Really, they didn't have a choice. The dumb Archons would probably find you easily.

But looks like you didn't have to wait for that to happen, because soon enough someone else arrived. And just blew all the Treasure hoarders away. Hahaha.

"Are you alright, miss?" The boy with white hair and a red streak politely asked you, sheathing his sword. ( is it katana or sword? )

"Uh, yes. I'm okay. Thank you!!" You replied, as he undid your bindings.

"I'm Kaedehara Kazuha, pleased to make your acquaintance." Kazuha smiled at you. Oh God, his cute little smile. You just wanna squish his cheeks.

"I'm...[Name]." You replied with a smile of your own. Your existence to the whole of Teyvat was practically unknown. Only the Archons and a few maids knew you existed. So perhaps, this can play in your favour.

"Well then, Miss [Name]. I will be heading off. I hope you return home safely!" He got up and started leaving, assuming your house was nearby.

"No, wait-wait! Can you help me?" You jogged up to him, how he fuck did he go so far away in barely 1 minute? Inhumane.

Now to hope he does help you.

______

Masterlist

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Week 1-4: Yandere Apocalypse - Uvil Penz

Original Post

Getting to meet everyone was nice and all but it’s entirely different from living with them

When it comes to sleeping arrangements the Penz brother’s each had their own rooms

Naturally Marco was sharing with Aria

Willaim with Simpson 

Leaving Uvil who speedily offered to room with you

“If you wouldn’t mind (Y/n), maybe you should stay with me.”

Of course Henrietta and Grant would have a problem with this

Both of them whining about the other as you let Uvil usher you away from the living room

“C’mon don’t leave me with this crazy broad!”

“Nooo! But (Y/n) reminds me the most of my baby! I need to sleep with them! THIS IS SO UNFAIR-”

With the clicks of multiple locks he decides you both are ready to turn in for the night

“Just for safety. After all you don’t really know these…strangers yet.”

“Uh thanks.”

You try to ignore the fact you don’t really know him either

But with a sporadically themed bedroom with two beds and a full bathroom, you’re not complaining

Because of your closeness with one another it’s natural as tiredness tugs at your eyes that you confide in him

“I for one, am glad you survived. I’m sorry for the emptyiness you feel but I think you’ve filled something for all of us…especially me.”

It’s nice when he says sweet things to you

And when he leads the group with grace

Or when he makes a fair meal plan for everyone to follow with the refrigerated and canned rations

…it just gets weird when he so easily adapts to the invasive demands of the group

Siphoning your time like some prized toy

“(Y/n) will not be drinking from you for at least another day…your behavior with the food rations is to blame.”

“THAT IS SO UNFAIR!WAAAAHHH!”

“Ha weird idiot, instead they’ll have to endure my ultimate smackdown…in the gaming room.”

“No to you too little brother.”

“What?! What did I do!?”

“Marco says you made Aria cry and he refused to operate the drones we have outside because of that. Thus you’ve lost your (Y/n)-privileges.”

“That’s….so unfair...”

Of course he doesn’t bother to ask you at all despite how polite he is pretends to be

But he has no problem intertwining his hand with yours while he goes around the bunker taking inventory

Or encouraging you to watch movies while cuddled up beside him

Its not so bad

It’s a great way to get used to the bunker life 

With Uvil’s guidance you’ll start to get used to this new way of life

And by the end of the 2nd week you’re starting to find your way on your own

But Uvil will never let that happen

Still hovering around you and monitoring your time despite your independence

“Space? (Y/n) you’re my dearest bunker-mate, of course I worry about you.”

It’s annoying but he’s far from the worst person in the bunker

Unbeknownst to you, Uvil’s only the best at hiding his obsession with you

When he’s not by your side he’s watching the cameras intensely for everyone’s movements

3 monitors dedicated to you 

What camera room?

The camera room only the Penz brothers seem to know about and none of them will confess

Not only being your most devoted watcher he’s the only one free enough to suffocate on the sheets you slept in 

To touch keep the dirty laundry you share with him

Or the access he gets to your journal entries 

But the best thing of all is the closeness he’s granted as your first real friend

“(Y/n) would you like a massage while we watch a horror movie? I know you’ve been feeling tense lately and I want nothing more than to help you relieve that.”

He knows a month is all he’ll get away with

Before the others start to riot

But this will be enough…for now

“I’m going to miss you (Y/n)...but it’s a small cycle. You’ll be back with me before you notice. And you’ll always find a safe space in my bed room.”

[thejujvtsupost]

Can you plz do a geto surguru x sorcerer reader story maybe a bit angst like from him leaving and the reader heartbroken but doesn't care and joins him cuz she loves him, something of that sort? I'm not picky I just wish for my of geto surguru 😭🥺

He Left You // From Afar

Hiiii anon I’ve got a drabble for you! I struggle with Geto angst of any kind especially from his defection era because he really just needs a hug and some counseling but I did my best 💗

Notes: F!reader, angst, reader is a sorcerer, established relationship, light stalking, comfort??, don’t be like them they’re both a little crazy making wild choices, Geto doesn’t start a cult- he just leaves the jujutsu world behind, We live in a river in Egypt bc none of that is canon forgive me.🥴

Geto leaves overnight and thus leaves you behind. You were suffering too, you were depressed too, and he had the audacity to leave you and Gojo- his supposed best friend- behind. You hated him for it.

For months you were bitter from the abandonment and his defection. No news of his whereabouts, zero contact. He left you.

Geto couldn’t stay. He couldn’t watch his friends be exploited and killed too young. Just like Haibara, sent out alone on a mission he had no business being involved in.

He couldn’t stay but he couldn’t completely leave either. Unbeknownst to you, he was hiding but never too far.

Of course he couldn’t leave you behind truly. You held his heart, and after two months, he cracked and started looking after you.

From afar. Far enough that you wouldn’t pick up on his energy, far enough that you wouldn’t be reminded of his abandonment.

It hurt to stay away but he made his bed to lie in. That’s what he told himself every time he was tempted to reach out to you or Satoru. He let your graduation pass by and soon your lives were moving forward without him.

But you… eighteen months after he left- he returned.

He returned to your apartment and waited for you to come home from the stupid date he spotted you on. You were wearing that little red dress he loved so much on you to meet with some other man.

Fine, he would admit that he was jealous. Leaving meant he couldn’t keep you. But you were still his. Still his doll, his love.

And his love was unlocking her door while bidding her date farewell. At least he was a gentleman.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” This was the first time in eighteen months you laid eyes on him. You were furious.

“How did you even- what. No. Get out. Now.” Your voice was already cracking.

God he missed you so badly, the fire in your eyes was captivating even if he was on the receiving end. “You’re dating?”

“Are you stalking me or something? That’s not your business, you left me. You left me and I was alone- not even a breakup text-” the tears started flowing freely, your heart couldn’t take it.

“I’ve been checking on you every so often, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Do I fucking look okay to you?” You left him standing in the living room, a man wasn’t going to prevent you from being comfortable in your own apartment.

“Gorgeous actually.” He followed you, only waiting outside your bedroom door so you could change. He at least had the civility to not cross your boundaries. You hated that you were blushing so easily.

Once into your comfortable clothes, you slam the door open and cross the hall into your bathroom to remove your makeup before it could stain your face further.

Of course he followed you, taking a moment to lean against the door frame and admire you closer than he had in over a year.

Then his arms were snaking around your waist from behind. “But you should know you’re always gorgeous.” He continued his thought from a few minutes prior. He knew he couldn’t sway you with a few compliments but that wasn’t going to stop him from telling the truth.

You were paralyzed and unable to meet his gaze in the mirror, you could easily push him away and you didn’t want to. You hated that he still felt like home.

You hated that you turned around and were relaxing into his embrace, spiraling down into sobs when he held you tighter against him and rubbed his hand down your back in a soothing manner. “I hate you so much. You can’t pop in and out of my life Suguru, I won’t let you break me again. I can’t handle it.”

“I want you to come with me, doll. I didn’t want to leave you behind but I couldn’t stay there- I just couldn’t.” He started choking up, “I’ve been off the grid in a cabin, come with me? Please?”

Could you actually just leave like he did? Your friends, job, entire life? All to be with Suguru?

“I won’t cut all contact.”

“You don’t have to, phones exist.”

“And I’m not giving up Netflix or the internet.”

“I live in a cabin, not the wilderness doll.” This wasn’t a laughing matter but he couldn’t help but be fond of your stubbornness. “I have power and internet.”

Could you really leave everything behind?

Yeah. Yeah, you could.

Thinking of making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[catcze]

⠀「 It’s always been you 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Kazuha x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff ♡

「 CWS : 」 reunions, exes (?) / right-person-wrong-time to lovers ?? Happy ending !! possibly ooc Kazuha? get off my case I'm tryna re-learn writing this guy LMAO

Reposted from my secondary blog !!

Kazuha stands at the threshold of your home, still as a statue. His heart pounds frantically —nervously— in his chest as he stares at your door, caught between knocking and turning to leave before you catch sight of him. It’s a coward’s way out, he knows, but with the nerves in his stomach practically eating him alive, he’d be hard-pressed to say that he’s not thinking of it.

He hasn’t felt this nervous since facing down the Raiden Shogun, the literal archon of the nation.

He hasn’t felt this conflicted since the day he left you behind, each step feeling like it’s own struggle not to turn back and run to you.

He hasn’t seen you since, even after he had returned to Inazuma— too busy helping the resistance and the traveller end the vision hunt decree that had torn him away from you in the first place. 

And now, after how many months without your company, without having heard any updates about your wellbeing, he can say with certainty that despite how terrified he is to see you again, absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

And it is that fondness and a deep, deep breath that gives him the courage to finally rap his knuckles on your door.

There’s silence for a bit, and his confidence falters. Maybe you’re not home— maybe there’s still some time for him to turn tail and come back another day, perhaps with flowers and seashells and silks that he can give you, rather than just this small, feeble hope he holds on to that he still has a chance to be with you. 

‘Coming!’ he hears from inside, along with a small commotion and a soft curse. Kazuha has to fight back a small, fond smile.

When you open the door, all Kazuha can say after so long is a simple, “…Hello.”

Your hair is just the slightest bit different now, Kazuha notices as he stares at you, eyes transfixed on your face while the both of you are unmoving. Just the slightest bit— he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the hours he had spent with you before, getting acquainted with your very being, playing with your hair and holding your hand. The change suits you.

But the happy grin that spreads across your face is still very much the same— still enough to have him giddy just at the sight of it. You throw yourself at him easily, pulling him into a warm hug as you hold him tight.

“Kazuha! You’re back!” Your voice is practically dripping with happiness, burying your face into his hair and holding him close. Easily, Kazuha wraps his arms around you as well, relief blanketing his entire body.

The same scent follows you too— one that brings him joy in a moment, that has him tugging you closer and burying his face into your neck. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he mumbles, lips brushing your skin. 

The hug last longer than it probably should, but neither of you can be bothered to care. The mutual I missed you, travels through both of you, unspoken but not unheard.

“Okay, okay,” you say with a small laugh when you both finally let go. You’re so warm with happiness, so happy to finally see him again. “You’re probably hungry, right? Come on in, I was just making a snack.”

Kazuha doesn’t even bother to be modest— he accepts easily, smiling as he enters your home once more.

Sitting at your table feels almost surreal, like he never left. With snacks served, conversation flows between you two easily, much to his surprise and delight.

You ask him about his time on the seas, sailing on the Alcor alongside the mighty uncrowned lord of the ocean. He’s eager to tell you all his adventures thus far, and it fills you with relief to know that Beidou and her crew treat him as one of their own, and that he hasn’t been alone.

In turn, he asks you how you’ve been, and though you’re a bit embarrassed about home mundane your life has been in comparison to his, Kazuha’s persistent to know how you’ve been faring.

So you tell him— about the fruit trees in your garden that have flourished under your careful hand, about the mother cat and her litter of kittens that come by your door every so often, looking for scraps. You tell him about the new dishes that the restaurants nearby have started serving , and the way that the Naganohara fireworks light up the night sky whenever a festival comes around. Even if, to you, these are nowhere near as interesting as the stories you’ve been told over the last couple of hours, Kazuha still sits entranced, holding onto your every word. 

But it’s kind of funny, you think. Because Kazuha likes frank people, who aren’t scared to speak their truth or let their true feelings known. But you know that, even though his interest in how you’ve been doing is genuine, that there’s something else that he’s dancing around.

So before he can ask you another question, you beat him to it— “Kazuha,” you tell him not unkindly, leaning across the table so that his gaze cannot escape yours. You quirk a brow, and he can’t lie to you. “I appreciate the interest, but there’s something else you want to ask, isn’t there?”

Kazuha’s mouth opens, like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how. You watch as his cheeks flush, from being flustered or something else you’re not sure, but you give him a moment to think anyway, sitting back on the tatami mat. 

“I—“ he starts, then falters. Kazuha laughs to himself, then, shaking his head and looking down at his empty plate with a smile. “You always could read me better than most.”

It still takes him a bit to gather his thoughts though. To find the right way to sort out his muddled thoughts. 

Eventually, Kazuha settles for— “Do you… are you in love with anyone, right now?”

You look off to the side, fake-pondering and humming noncommittally. “Mm… perhaps I am.”

You can’t help but tease him, always so easy to get a reaction from the ronin who wears his heart on his sleeve. But you decide to cut him a break when you see the wince he has to bury. 

You smile at him gently, taking his hand and bringing his rough, battle-work knuckles to your lips in a sweet kiss. The way you look at him has butterflies erupting in his stomach, like someone experiencing love for the first time all over again.

“It’s you, Kazuha. It’s always been you— I’ve always loved you.”

[triviallytrue]

Honour Mode Act 1 Complete

Overall thoughts: I enjoy playing without savescumming being an option. It speeds up the game and forces me to be more thoughtful. Aside from that, the changes feel pretty minimal - there are only 7 bossfights in act 1, of which I only did 6, so the net impact of the changes on my run thus far has been small.

Analysis of the bossfights + balance thoughts below the cut.

Owlbear (Fought at level 3): First bossfight I took. Didn't realize it was going to be a bossfight, went into it expecting an easy ride like on tactician. Definitely the most-changed of any of the fights, over twice as hard. Had to rely on the NPC assists and Command to get me through. Probably the closest call I've had thus far, though it wasn't that close. One of two fights where a character was downed.

After the Owlbear, I started looking up which fights were bossfights/what their changes were and planning in advance.

Phase Spider Matriach (Level 4): I suspect this fight is legitimately very dangerous at level 3, but at level 4 it's not bad. The main change is that it's uncheeseable now. There's also a new reaction, but it only got fired at me once, and it missed. Killed the ads, had my cleric spam command and my bard Tasha's to lock it down, and then beat it to death with my monk. Barely took damage.

Auntie Ethel (Level 5): Again, would've been hard at 4 but not bad at 5. Still took a fair amount of damage, but didn't come all that close to dropping. Her special reaction is designed to counter the best way of taking out her clones (mass magic missile) but it's hard-countered by monks - with 3 ki points you can force her to make 3 saves (2 against stunning, 1 against stagger) and if she fails any of them she can't use her reaction. With her reaction gone and her clones dealt with, 145 HP is not very much for a boss to have against a level 5 party.

Bernard (DNF): As far as I can tell, the risk-reward on this fight is very bad. It's easily bypassable with Sussur blooms if you want the XP, but I just used the books to get the items with dialogue.

Inquisitor W'wargaz (Level 6): You know how 145 HP is not a lot of health against a level 5 party? It's really not a lot of health against a level 6 party. Never even saw this guy's honour mode changes because he was dead before he ever got a turn. Give him a crazy high initiative or some kind of better AC/resistances for him to be a threat.

True Soul Nere (Level 6): My pick for the most improved fight of Act 1. Nere's changes make him basically impossible to burst down, and if you had to fight him alongside all the Duergar it would be a legitimately nasty fight. Unfortunately for Nere and fans of game difficulty, it's easy to get more than half the Duergar to turn against him. The resulting fight is not trivial, but I never felt like I was in serious risk of things spiraling out of control.

Grym (Level 7): There's an argument to be made here that this is the hardest fight in act 1, but I took it a little too seriously and ended up beating it without taking any damage. So it goes. His new honour mode ability is cool but Silence makes you immune to thunder damage which takes away its sting, my sorcerer's Twinned Haste on my monk and cleric meant I had very good damage output and was also able to cast Command on him twice per turn if necessary, so I kept him stunlocked and beat him to death pretty quickly. My bard contributed nothing to this fight.

Overall balance thoughts: You may have noticed a few themes here - in 3 of the 6 fights I took, Command was used to stunlock the boss. Command would be extremely good as a level 2 spell and still often worth using as a level 3 spell. As a level 1 spell, it makes clerics a must-have for any party and easily slots them in as the second best class in the game.

But still not quite the best class in the game, which is monk. Tavern Brawler Open Hand Monk, to be specific. At level 3, Open Hand monks get the ability to suppress reactions if enemies fail a save. At level 4, they get Tavern Brawer, which with strength elixirs means you have a +12 to hit with 1d6+10 damage on 3 attacks per turn. At level 5 they get extra attack and also the ability to stun if enemies fail a save. At level 6 they get another huge boost to damage. They have a great set of gear with no real overlaps with other classes that drives these numbers up even farther.

This combination of traits - high accuracy, high damage, lots of attacks per turn, ability to stun and suppress reactions at will, all bundled together in a nice, smooth earlygame progression package, is ridiculously good. Definitely the standout character of the run thus far.

Command should be nerfed or removed, Tavern Brawler should be nerfed or removed, early game strength elixirs should be nerfed or removed. Til then, I'm playing the cards I'm dealt.

[millepara]

himitsu no aipri episode 1 (a week late)

it's been so long since I've written about a priseries (or any other idol) show... I'm realizing that I legit didn't think I'd ever get the chance again. I got tired of doing it before because I felt like I was either complaining too much (planet) or just happy abt everything that was happening (primagi) and thus had nothing interesting to say either way, but ever since watching aipri on sunday I've been looking forward to this... I think I'm just happy about new idol anime content after such a long drought tbh but it's something good that aipri has already brought us, no matter what you or I think of anything else about it.

I missed the first 5 minutes bc I was reading bad fanfiction in bed to wake up (nigh daily routine) and totally forgot abt aipri... then I did remember and had to sprint to my computer, but the stream kept stopping so I missed some critical stuff throughout. I liked the ep okay, but maybe actually seeing all of it will improve it?

ohhh ok it starts off with those cute lemon coords in the op. actually this does help, those coords are easily my favs that I've seen in aipri so far. esp Mitsuki's blue one is sooo cute... I am saying this as a person that buys every single blue gingham item of clothing I come across though haha. I will say that the coord & dance totally don't match the sort of sweeping fairytale (just mistyped that as dairytale. hm) majesty that the bgm and voiceover is going for, but...

oh, I didn't know that Mitsuki had a snippet of performance in here. I've seen it in gameplay videos already, I like it ok---wow, it's already over.

the way Mitsuki is pausing for her viewers to answer is just like shows for preschoolers... they're really going after that age group, huh. (do actual streamers do stuff like that....?)

oh, I already saw Himari get a call from her sister. looks like I only missed 1 minute.

that is the ugliest anime dog I've ever seen, hands down, but Hiiro is cute. I'm sure she's well on her way to being the Non or whoever the prichan little sister was of aipri, in terms of popularity.

I do think it is very, very interesting that in this pretty series anime which is aimed at perhaps the youngest audience yet, they have put the mc in a dorm, away from her family. weird. actually I am for the first time realizing exactly how many anime have schools with dorms. you'd think japan is overflowing w boarding schools but idk of a single one lmao...

Mitsuki: it sure was the right decision to move into the dorm!

Himari: (completely ignores her statement to bring up aipri)

Himari's look out of aipri is really cute, I've finally decided. it's a shame that her twintails as an aipri are such a weird shape??? why do they curve up on the outside like that, all I can see is a large intestine when I look at them...... :(

the first time I watched this my internet cut out just as Mitsuki's face was approaching Himari's. I knew what she was doing bc of the comic in the aipri fanbook, but still it was like, oh! looks like it's gonna be another totally straight pretty series show!

oh man, the op. the song itself is cute and catchy, but this vtuber's voice is just too much, and it gets more too much as the song goes on. I get the appeal of her being a "real-life aipri", and presumably she's popular so her fans might be drawn to watch, but I hope she doesn't sing the next op too..... oh you know what would be kind of cool is if every op was sung by a different vtuber. that way if one sucked we wouldn't have to hear them again, and they'd showcase a lot of different people.

Meganee is especially exceptionally cute in her op cameo!!!

oh. A Crush. let it be insignificant 🙏 but if they become idol princesses too I'll allow it.

I like Chii's voice a lot, and her passion regarding aipri, but on the list of things I'm finding myself saying "oh. shame :( " about is her unfortunate hairstyle. also speaking of things that remind me of other things, her name Chii Mamiya sounds like "chi mamire" (blood-soaked) or "chi mame" (blood blister). surely I am not the only Japanese understander who hears this.

Yusa Kouji-sensei has by far my fav character design in this show. he is officially my favorite aipri.

wow, it's the classic post-covid tv broadcast opening ceremony... a chillingly real element in this fantasy rich kid school. irl this is the first year since covid we've had in-person opening ceremonies in many schools, it's a shame they don't get to at paradise academy yet lmao

I'm not even going to touch this whole welcome speech. I'm just going to slowly back away and pretend like I didn't see anything.

I love the aikatsu-level background character design in this classroom!! bicolor twintails is cute.

I wonder if these elementary schoolers are relevant or are just there to show how many people are watching Himari.

lmao despite what I said about Chii I think we were sharing the same braincell when she said "Her Victoria levels are out of control!!" they totally are!!

am I misunderstanding this or did Victoria not ban aipri? didn't she say "in moderation" only...? this is literally the same kind of thing schools say irl abt cutting down on screen time. just more dramatic.

so the elementary kid is relevant. Yuma... will he be an aipri too? if not, why would he even exist?

I didn't catch the first time around that this bracelet was the one uh, Candy Motif was fiddling with in the student council meeting. where'd she get it from?

this is the least amount of love I've ever seen put into a commercial break eyecatch.

are the aimus... cute? I can't see it...

it's very funny that the lipstick immediately disappears when they go 3d. they knew it looks bad, and they've still gotta cram it in there for that single second to sell toys.

this cgi. I think everyone's said it so far, but it's really not the best... I think I might like the game's graphics a little better, even. I do like seeing the coords lit up at least.

P.O.P.P.Y is a cute enough song. it's just barely on the listenable side of the line for me, but I do think it's a great match for what aipri is going for. also that is definitely a dance that was made for preschoolers to imitate.

buzzalyume... idk if anyone is aware or not, but buzz is a word that's in really common use regarding social media in japan atm. like you would say "that's buzzing" (literally I mean, figuratively it's more like "that's all the buzz" like the english use of the word) about something that's all over your timeline or whatever. so it's not totally out of left field for them to choose that word in particular, but it doesn't mean that it sounds any less forced, that's for sure!!

Bear Bear Bear's voice is cute.

I don't like these emoji reactions all over the screen. not cute.

the ed is cute.

...finally, I watched it all. whew. I have to say, I was not wowed by it! but it was fine. it's far better than having no pretty series at all. I keep thinking "I'll put off my opinion till I know more about it" about aipri and I'm tempted to say it again now--in this episode we barely met the main two characters in favor of worldbuilding. it kind of makes sense as the first ep of a little kid show, but will the rest of the show stay at this same level of character depth? it's way too early to say. but for me, that's what'll determine how much I like it.

[isleofdarkness]

Warnings; implied/referenced child prostitution, implied/referenced childhood sexual assault, implied/referenced severe child abuse, implied childhood sexual slavery, referenced past suicide attempts, implied/referenced violence towards a child, referenced starvation, tell me if I need to add more

"I think you've noticed," Rose said, shattering the horrified silence that followed Ace's story. She was making herself a distraction. Jay reached out, tapping Ace's knuckles lightly to signal for it to move back. It did, stepping as far away from the spotlight as it could without drawing attention to itself, and Jay brushed the back of his hand against the back of its hand to ask if it was okay and if it needed to get out. Ace grabbed his hand and squeezed twice, signalling that it was okay, and Jay tapped his foot slightly to let it know it was acknowledged. He saw Mischa relax out of the corner of his eye. He had been watching, ready to cover in case Ace needed to leave. "That we haven't talked about the guy who started this whole meeting yet. You've heard from pretty much every Isle kid in this room except for Mischa Rasputin. There's a reason for that." The glare Rose levelled at Beast was downright lethal. "Misch?"

Mischa and Ivy stepped forward. Jay didn't miss the subtle calming breath Mischa took before he started signing. "Kira, can you go wait in the hall with Nikita?" He's practically raised Kira, just like he'd raised Polina and Nikita. While she was a teenager now, nearing her fourteenth birthday and thus losing the protections afforded to children on the Isle, she was still his little sister. He didn't want her listening to his trauma. The only reason Polina wasn't asked to leave, Jay guessed, was because she already knew. She was always the one who fixed Mischa up. Mischa was, without a doubt, the most stubborn man on the Isle when it came to his refusal to seek medical attention. Polina had taken it upon herself to fix what she could. Considering how many broken bones came from Jay's time as a prostitute, he wouldn't be surprised if Mischa's experiences had left him with wounds and broken bones Polina had needed to fix.

Kira nodded and turned towards the door. After a reluctant look around the room, skipping between a few specific people, Mischa continued. "Jay, Ace, Polina-"

"Not a chance," Polina snapped. "I swear to the gods, Mischa, if you try and kick me out I'll teach Pasha how to swear in every single language I can possibly think of."

"For the last time, man," Ace stepped towards Mischa threateningly, though they all knew there was no real danger in it. "You get to benefit from our 'you can always come to me if you need to talk' thing, too. You aren't our therapist, you're our friend. We have a mutual arrangement. Stop self-sacrificing because you think we don't know how to leave a room when it gets too much. We come to you every time we have a problem and need help, have for years, and you listen to every single problem and work with us to come up with solutions. If you won't let us pay you-" Mischa's eyes widened in horror. The guy was oddly opposed to them paying him for helping them when he very much needed the money. "Then you deserve to talk about your problems with us and we deserve to help you and try and come up with solutions. After all you've done for us, it makes us feel like shit if we can't give you something in return, like we're stealing from you when you've been nothing but helpful to us. Let. Us. Help."

Ace was usually a person of few words, words not coming to it easily. Barring the few times it got so upset that its emotions turned off, it usually spoke in fragments and paused a lot to put its thought into words. He knew that its speech about what had happened in its life had been rehearsed. Did that mean- Mischa smiled. "And exactly how long did you rehearse that?"

"Fuck off." While Mischa did look slightly less apprehensive, his eyes were still shifting nervously. He was too worried about triggering them. Were they going to have to leave the room? They wanted to be there to support him, but that would require him to be comfortable with saying what had happened to him in front of them. If he couldn't say it in front of them, no matter how much they wanted to support him, Jay knew that he, Ace, and Polina would have to leave.

Mischa deserved to say his piece. No matter how much they wanted to be there for him and he'd been there for them, they couldn't take away his chance to finally air nearly twenty years of trauma to the people who had caused it. They couldn't deny him that.

As Mischa paused, clearly agonizing over whether to send them away or let them stay, Rose surprised all of them by speaking up. "Godospin Mischa Rasputin-" his confusion towards whatever the hell that first word meant barely registered against the shock he was feeling. Rose had never really interacted with Mischa before. As far as he knew, she'd never even spoken to him. She knew of him through Ace, probably, but he'd never seen her speak to Mischa in more than one or two polite but cold words. But now, her voice was casual. Her accent morphed to something closer to Polina's as she said Mischa's name. Her eyes were... not exactly gentle, but nowhere near as hard as they usually were. And she turned her back on the council to face Mischa and speak directly to him.

Rose Hearts turned her back on a room full of potential enemies to speak kind of gently to a man she didn't know.

"When I couldn't be there for Ace," She continued, pain glittering in her eyes, accent transforming into the proper British reserved for when she was truly upset, "You were. What it couldn't say to me it said to you. Where I couldn't help it, you did. When it couldn't feel safe in its own home, you offered it shelter. You treated the wounds it couldn't let me see, gave it a place to let out emotions it couldn't express in front of me.

"At first, I was hurt. Ace is my twin, but it went to you for help instead of to me," Her British accent was thick with shame, but her eyes stayed on Mischa. "But I understand now. You understand Ace in ways I can't. You've sacrificed so much to protect your siblings, just as it has done for me. You tried, failed, and kept trying to take your father's cruelty to keep it from getting aimed at your sisters, like how Ace does to keep me safe. And you understand the type of trauma it has, because you have the same trauma. You know exactly what it's going through while I would only ever be able to guess. You gave it someone to show its pain to. How could it talk about what it was going through to its younger sister?

"You have saved its life more times than I know. You're always the first one there when it tries to kill itself-" Jay nearly jumped out of his skin as the White Queen finally broke, leaping out of her seat and running to Ace. It cringed hard, arms flying to protect its face and body curling to protect its stomach, but froze when her hands gripped its shoulders instead of aiming blows at its face. When it looked at her, Jay could see its fear turn to shock. The White Queen had tears in her eyes.

It glanced over at Rose, who nodded to say she thought the situation was safe. The White Queen let it make the first move, opening her arms rather than pulling it into a hug. If Jay saw it sob when it leaned against her and those arms wrapped around it like a vice, he wasn't going to say a word. After all Ace had gone through, all Jay hadn't known it had gone through, it deserved to let go, to be weak.

"You were the one who figured out," Rose continued, tears thick in her voice, "That transfusing your blood extends your miraculous curse to others, and you found that out because of one of your many courageous efforts to save my sibling. You gave it your food, even when it meant you couldn't eat- you were emaciated, but you still gave it your food the day before we left the Isle. You've given it money you couldn't afford to lose, even if it meant a winter's night on a street corner. You put yourself between my sibling and Him, never fighting as if you knew violence from you would just lead to its punishment being worse, just standing there. Taking every blow, every knife, every bullet, just to spare those same pains from sinking into Ace. When Ace tells me to run and I go running to you, you run straight to the palace no matter what. Even if it's Him, even if it's Mother, you go to help Ace and you've never asked anything in return.

"It makes me feel bad," she admitted, "And I know it makes Ace feel bad. You invite us into your home, feed us, medicate our illnesses, treat our wounds. You heat water over the fire pot by pot to fill the washbasin, or even the tub. And then you give us some of your clothes to sleep in so that you can wash ours so perfectly I swear you make us brand-new copies- if you do, I'm sorry about the annoying-ass beading on mine- you show us to our own room that locks from the inside, not the outside, with the keyhole on the outside filled with old tar so that we know you can't unlock it from the outside, and you let us sleep. When we wake up, even only a few hours later, our clothes are right outside the door so that we can leave whenever we want. And then you ask nothing in return. It feels almost like we're stealing from you. You put so much effort into helping all of us, and you refuse our help as if you would be burdening us. And it feels like you took us into your home, treated us like royalty, and then we snuck out in the wee hours with a rucksack full of your shit on our shoulders like a fucking cartoon."

"You guys are like family," Ivy translated, nodding to her husband to show she agreed with him. "I don't charge my sisters, I won't charge you."

"There's things other than money you can ask," Rose replied. "To be honest, the first time I met you, I thought the thing you would charge would be sex-" Mischa seemed to choke on his own breath in his horror. His signs came out sharp and dramatic as he protested, saying that he would never even think of doing that to anyone, much less a child. Ivy missed translating, her focus having shifted entirely to Rose to say something in Spanish that Jay couldn't understand, her words fast and her accent heavy, tells that told him that she was saying the same thing as Mischa. To his surprise, against two non-English languages even he struggled to understand, Rose didn't look even slightly confused. She clapped her hands together, interrupting them. "Well, I know you would never now, but I was eleven and, let's face it, most adults on the Isle would. It threw me through one hell of a loop when you two didn't. But that's not my point. You refuse money, so Ace has spent years trying to figure out a way to repay the two of you. The way it felt was best, that I think most people feel is best, was helping you.

"But it's more than just wanting to repay you, Godospin Rasputin. Ace considers you to be its brother and, over the years, I've kind of started to as well. Seeing how the others interact with you, I know they feel the same. They care about you and they want to be here to support you as you have supported them. Because siblings are there for each other." She smiled slightly. "Also, I think we all want to be here for when you eviscerate King Beast. You've got the worst abuse on the Isle and I know that we all wanna see you say your piece both because we love you and because there is no way he's gonna recover from this. It's going to be brutal and we all hate the fucker-" Ace broke away from its aunt as Beast tried to speak, moving its hand in a clear "shut up" motion. When Beast didn't speak despite the blatant disrespect, Jay noticed a faint glow in its eyes. Oh gods, it was really using its magic on the high king of Auradon in front of the whole council. "So we wanna watch that happen. Please, gods, let us watch it happen. I swear we all know how to leave the room if we're upset. The door is that way-" she pointed behind him, "Or the frame is, anyway. Super badass, kicking the door out of the frame, by the way."

Mischa was silent for a moment, considering her, then the rest of them. Most of his apprehension seemed to have vanished, and Jay delighted when the last of his hesitation vanished. None of them were afraid of what he might say. If they needed to leave, they could, so there was nothing for them to be nervous about other than Mischa's well-being.

His eyes flicked up, glancing around at the council, and Jay watched them widen when they reached King Beast. Jay whipped around to see Beast giving Mischa a terrifying look. He didn't know how Mischa didn't take a step back- if that look had been directed at Jay, he would have.

But that murderous look made the last of his anxiety leave his eyes. Mischa grinned, straightening and looking Beast straight in the eye as he finally made his decision. "King Beast put me through this," he signed slowly and deliberately, making sure Jay could read what he was saying without Ivy's translations, even though she was back to translating, "And I'll be damned if I can't have my family with me while I lay every single second of suffering out for him."

[lightlycareless]

A preview of something I'm writing :) idk where i got this idea from but i just had to write ittttt will be posted very soon.

edit: it's now complete :>

Naoya is usually the one to call you first during missions, the one to check in with you every so often just to see how you are and vice versa. Thus, it’s easily become one of his favorite moments when away: getting to talk to you about the strange, sometimes stupid occurrences that happen in his work, while you listen intently, tell him of your day or while reminding him of how you miss him oh so greatly and couldn’t wait for him to get back home.

He’s never asked, nor expected you to take the initiative, knowing well the dangers of his career could only heighten if you do so, but he won’t deny that there weren’t moments where he hoped you’d be the one to call him when he needs you most. Naoya always gets excited when he hears the first Hello? When you finally pick up the call, after all…

However, when you finally had the initiative to contact him, seemingly unprovoked while in the middle of a mission…

Far from being enthralled, he was worried.

“If you can, get back home as soon as possible”

Because of the previous arrangement, you never, ever contacted him, less it was to be an emergency… which is why he was catapulted to imagine nothing but the worst.

The fear of this thought is what pushes Naoya to quickly wrap up whatever it was that he was working on and quickly make his way back to the estate, offering no explanations nor apologies, simply rushing past everyone as soon as he arrived and going straight to your location, to the garden he knew he’d always find you in, in the company of your loyal staff.

Upon hearing his rushed footsteps and receiving one of your maiden’s confirmation, you gasp, quickly turning around to acknowledge your husband and give him a big, warm smile, jumping on your feet to give him an equally big and warm hug, which your husband instinctively receives eagerly, quickly diving into the embrace of his beloved wife, until remembering why he was so urged in the first place, eventually pulling away.

“What’s wrong, dear?” you ask upon seeing his concerned face.

“What do you mean what’s wrong—you—you sent me a message asking me to get back home quickly!” He frowns, unease evident in his voice. “Are you ok? What happened?!”

“What message…” you frown, before gasping with realization “Oh, that one! I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Then what did you mean?” Naoya persists, his heart barely starting to calm down. “What could I possibly make out of that message without getting worried?”

“… I didn’t mean to upset you… I just missed you” you pout, and regret for having spoken to you quickly settles in his chest.

“I missed you too” Naoya sighs, taking you once more in his arms. He could never get angry at you. “But you got me worried, what was I supposed to think after you never send me anything? If it’s nothing urgent just let me know next time, ok?”

“Well… Actually… it is urgent—There is something I need to tell you.”

Your words push Naoya back to square one, with his heart down to his stomach and the worst things he could think of flashing across his mind. But when he sees the gleeful, giggling look of your staff, giving you one last cheerful pat on the back before leaving the two alone, he now feels confused.