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cambion-companion · 1 year

Note

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #gale bg3 #shadowheart #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x tav #karlach #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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neechees · 8 months

Text

Raisedeyebrowemojii Scamming information post

So as some of you know, it's been revealed that @raisedeyebrowemojii was a scammer, and for those of you that don't know, I'm sorry you had to find out this way. This is going to be an information post on raisedeyebrowemojii's scamming, lies, the evidence, and where they stole from, and the debunking of all their claims as comprehensively as possible to help the people they scammed and manipulated get some closure, and hopefully to provide insight on how you might spot them again.

I carried out an investigation on the now confirmed scammer, and now deactivated user @blktransdyke, who deleted within hours of my callout post. On that post I connected blktransdyke as being the same person behind raisedeyebrowemojii due to the information both of them had posted for alleged fundraisers, which you can see in the post here. For a short recap, both blktransdyke and raisedeyebrowemojii "Jay" both had the exact same story of allegedly being trans/homeless/disabled and posted photos of the exact same brown tabby cat named "Trouble", both claiming that it was their "best friend's cat" and raisedeyebrowemojii created a patreon for Trouble the cat, only for me to find that Trouble the cat is a hyperpopular cat vlogging/fanpage with 42K followers on facebook, and both of these blogs stole from this page and neither of them were affiliated with this famous facebook.

Moving on, with some help, ive also found more evidence that raisedeyebrowemojii was a scammer. I know many people were already convinced by the callout post I already did, but I think it's important to debunk a lot of raisedeyebrowemojii's claims due to the fact that so many people thought they were genuine, that they had died, and due to the fact that they stole pretty much every detail of their alleged life from somewhere else, and I can prove it, so I want to clear things up, and maybe allow some people to gain peace in the knowledge that "Jay" did not die, and was never in danger of dying to begin with.

The rest of this post will be under the cut because again, this is going to get long. I encourage everyone who was approached by or donated to raisedeyebrowemojii to reblog to help get the word out, thank you. Image descriptions will be available in alt text.

For starters, raisedeyebrowemojii went by the name "Jay", and on the donation posts of theirs (scams), they used the paypal name "Jay Baldwin", and Jay claimed to be disabled (allegedly they had tourettes, autism, cerebral palsey, were deaf, in a wheelchair, had a terminal kidney disease, and allegedly other undisclosed disabilities), Canadian, that they lived in the city of Toronto (in Ontario, Canada), and a trans lesbian. Screenshots for that below

Misuse of terminology & racefaking

Let's talk about their bio first. I suspect that the scammer behind this blog is neither Black nor Canadian, due to the fact that, as I mentioned in this post, 1. Black Canadians don't really refer to themselves as "African American" as much here in Canada, partly due to the fact that a lot of Black Canadians actually have roots from the Caribbean & not directly from Africa or America, 2. "Jay" claimed to be Canadian but also said they had an uncle & grandparents still living in South Africa, which means they're implying they're either a first or second generation African Canadian immigrant, so why would they call themselves "African American" if they have no national/ethnic ties to America, and they are Canadian? So, like the blktransdyke blog, who i proved is most likely the same person as raisedeyebrowemojii, both of these blogs are using incorrect/strange terminology for the ethnicities they claim to be, thus indicating racefaking and a falsified Nationality.

Falsified Nationality

Here I also have reason to believe this person is not Canadian, or in the very least, did not live in the city of Toronto, or likely the province of Ontario. Partly due to the evidence ive just given above, but also due to the reasons I'm about to give & the connected next point I'll get to soon. For one example, "Jay" made the donation post in the first screenshot i gave where they claimed they were scared they were going to freeze to death, and that they could hardly even type on their phone due to the absolute insane cold temperatures of Toronto.

However, I took a look at the Toronto weather forecast for the day that raisedeyebrowemojii posted that update (February 12th, 2023) and found that the temperature had gotten up to 6°C (or 42.8°F), with very little wind, and it didn't even get below freezing temperatures that day, and only got two degrees below freezing the night before (which is when they claim they were staying in a shelter). Canadians will know that this type of temperature in FEBRUARY is actually very very warm and pleasant. Like, unseasonably, weirdly warm. Screenshot for that below.

Now, for an actual homeless person, being outside in the cold, even if it's warmer than usual, this is still difficult and harsh conditions to live under. However, this is still a large exaggeration from what Raisedeyebrowemojii claimed it was, and youre not very likely to freeze to death in this kind of weather compared to the usual Canadian temperatures. The way "Jay" described it makes me think that it is not a Canadian who made this post, and is someone who was not in Toronto to actually know what temperature it was that day, but just assumed it would be very cold.

Impersonation of the real Jay Baldwin

Thanks to some help (of people whom I will keep anonymous for their safety & as a precaution of the scammer harassing them), i managed to locate the identity of the REAL Jay Baldwin, and was able to concretely find out that this person is who raisedeyebrowemojii was impersonating. So, who is the real Jay Baldwin you ask?

Jay Baldwin is a Black, disabled (who uses a wheelchair and has Cerebral Palsey) nonbinary Canadian and the founder of the private Facebook support group "Disabled, Queer, and Fabulous" with over 1.1K members, and is a student at Carleton university in Ontario, Canada, and this Jay Baldwin has actually been doing really well for themselves, and has gotten pretty famous in the Ottawa area. And, as you can see, the raisedeyebrowemojii "Jay" apparently has a lot in common with THIS Jay Baldwin, including their names, being Black, a disabled wheelchair user with Cerebral palsey, nonbinary, Canadian living in Ontario, and both use they/them pronouns. But let me show you how I know they've been stealing from this person.

One way I can tell that raisedeyebrowemojii definitely was not THIS Jay Baldwin is their faces. On the screenshot to the left is the icon that raisedeyebrowemojii (of allegedly "themselves") used for their blog, taken from the webarchive screenshot of their blog, and to the right is a cropped portrait photo of the real Jay Baldwin, taken from this information page on the official Carleton University website, which also lists most of the information I just listed about the REAL Jay.

Obviously these two people look absolutely nothing alike. And we can tell that raisedeyebrowemojii meant for their scamsona to look like the person on the left, because they also used a photo of another dark-skinned Black person in ANOTHER donation post. So they stole these selfies from a different person altogether, although I haven't yet been able to locate where they'd stolen them.

One of the reasons that raisedeyebrowemojii's lies were so convincing though is that they were stealing or misconstruing some of Jay Baldwin's life experiences almost in real time, and I believe that raisedeyebrowemojii was keeping tabs on Jay in order to harvest their life details. For example, on a Facebook post, Jay Baldwin mentioned the death of their father a few times, but also on June 26th 2022, made the memorial post below about the death of their uncle

and meanwhile, on August 25th 2022, raisedeyebrowemojii ALSO suddenly started saying that their dad died, which you can see on the screenshot of their tumblr profile, which as webarchive screenshot shows, was not there before. While they changed the dates, raisedeyebrowemojii was clearly pulling from the real Jay's life, so it looks like we can see around the time that the dcammer decided to randomly incorporate this into their scamsona. As far as I can find, raisedeyebrowemojii never made a donation post regarding their "Father" and said that he was abusive, so adding this detail from the real Jay's life shows that it was unnecessary except to look more real and to manipulate people into believing them.

In the ways that raisedeyebrowemojii misconstrued things, they also of course constantly used the story that they were either homeless or on the verge of being homeless. Where Jay would post facebook updates of doing very well and being happy in life and even doing & hosting events for disability rights, raisedeyebrowemojii around the same time would post about needing money due to either allegedly starving, of dying, needing medical attention, or being homeless.

Below are screenshots of, in the order that they appear (so we're going chronologically in time that these were posted by both raisedeyebrowemojii and Jay Baldwin respectively) from left to right, raisedeyebrowemojii asking for money on February 16th 2023 talking about being in allegedly horrific conditions, then Jay Baldwin posting a peppy update on facebook, looking very happy and having a drink with the caption "Cheers to life!" on February 22nd, and then another donation scam post by raisedeyebrowemojii begging for money saying they're "on the streets" and "will die", posted on February 26th 2023.

You'll be happy to know that the real Jay Baldwin is not homeless or food insecure, and seems to have had a good relationship with both of their parents and is in an accepting home, unlike what raisedeyebrowemojii claimed THEY had, and claimed they were being abused. Raisedeyebrowemojii likely falsified all that while still impersonating Jay and keeping tabs on them in order to create a false sense of urgency whenever they wanted money at random.

Normally I wouldn't go into this much detail about the people who were stolen from in scams, but I feel like this case in particular it was important to point out where the scammer was pulling from to debunk their lies, but also because the real Jay Baldwin has become quite an iconic figure in their area, and all this information was taken from multiple publicly available sources, and so I can only assume that Jay is comfortable with this personal information being known.

Little to no life details, interests, or personality outside of the impersonating Jay Baldwin, and manipulation

As I'm sure many of you know by now (as ive mentioned it in previous posts, and that some of you currently reading this were victims of the scammer), but raisedeyebrowemojii contacted multiple, predominantly Black users to attempt to befriend them, and they did this in order to appear more legitimate, and most likely so that they had "friends" to call upon should any of their scams have been questioned. We've also seen this with multiple other scammers where a new blog will appear and suddenly start tagging mostly Black users to ask them to (unknowingly) reblog their scam posts.

And as a more famous example, we've seen this with the famed scammer Laura Deramas where she befriended multiple users to get them to stick up for her.

But to get down to the title's point, outside of the life details they were stealing or misconstruing from the real Jay, Raisedeyebrowemojii didn't have much of their own personality or traits, which is common in scams. Say, for example, a scammer will create a scamsona who is a lesbian and loves cats and is making a fake donation post for a sick cat, and so in order to make their blog look more convincing, they will randomly reblog popular posts from tags about cats or lesbianism.

In Raisedeyebrowemojii's case, we had one user mention that while Raisedeyebrowemojii was trying to "befriend" them, Raisedeyebrowemojii would only answer very generic questions asked of them despite the fact that they sent the messages first appearing to try to get to know that user, like answering "I like reading!" Instead of answering what their favorite books are if asked about their interests. Below is a screenshot of that conversation. This user emphasizes that they never got an answer to the last question they asked.

"Kidney disease" and alleged "death"

I stated on my blog that I believe raisedeyebrowemojii randomly said that they were diagnosed with a "terminal kidney disease" (allegedly chronic kidney disease) specifically with the view that they could leave, deactivate, or abandon their blog and then move onto ANOTHER scam blog (and likely this was the blktransdyke blog) without looking suspicious or weird, because then people would just assume they had died, which is exactly what happened.

Raisedeyebrowemojii stopped posting around June 2023, and the blktransdyke blog appeared in early April 2023, which makes me think this is when they started to move to that blog or potentially even another blog we don't yet know about. Funeral scams, or scams where the scammer pretends their persona has "died" in general is not new and is actually pretty common. It's possible that raisedeyebrowemojii was going to (or may still attempt) to return on another blog and pretend to be a family member or "friend" of the raisedeyebrowemojii in order to ask for alleged "funeral money", which we've seen with blogs like the now deleted blog @destrawberry.

But the main reason I think why they stopped posting in specifically June is because that is around the time the real Jay Baldwin was gaining popularity again, doing multiple public events, and was doing very very well, so I think the scammer became aware there was now more of a chance of people discovering their scam. In June, Jay won an award at an LGBT film festival for a documentary they had made ("Supporting Out Selves") and an Academic Hospital wrote a piece on their success, and in August they announced that they teamed up with ASE Community Foundation for Black Canadians with Disabities to host their 3rd student summit in September. You can find evidence of this by googling or by looking at Jay Baldwin's facebook, but of course, please give respect to the real Jay Baldwin & do not pester them.

Conclusion

All in all I hope that this clarifies a lot of things for those of you that were confused by all this, and again, I extend my dearest sympathies to those who donated to raisedeyebrowemojii and were manipulated by them, I know the feeling and I'm so terribly sorry that it's happened to you too. I advise any Black users especially to be very cautious about any new blogs with a donation post up that is new, and this new blog is trying to ask you to reblog their donation post: it's common for scammers to retarget anybody who may have donated to them, talked to them, or even just barely interacted with them before.

I'll put some of raisedeyebrowemojii's old paypals, gfm accounts, etc in either the replies or another reblog, because for now I'm running out of space. If you donated to them at any point, i suggest you report their accounts where you did the donating. And in the mean time, my colleague @kyra45 is taking testimonies on raisedeyebrowemojii, so if you have an experience with this scammer and would like to share that experience with us so we can document this scammer's behavior, please send Kyra an ask.

#raisedeyebrowemojii #scam #donation scam #blktransdyke #donation scammer #scams

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frvnkcastles · 1 month

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Maybe a little something where frank introduces you to Curtis and David and both you and David are in shock and angry as you're close cousins?

"Cousin? What the fuck are you doing?"

"Cousin what the fuck are you doing with frank?"

"What the fuck are YOU doing with frank?"

"I'm his friend?"

"I'm his girlfriend?"

Etc and frank didn't know

THE WORLD OF YOU AND I ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank introduces you to his best friends, and it turns out, one of them is your cousin.

Warnings: Language, feminine nicknames, fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Author’s note: Anon, this is such a good idea and writing this was soooo much fun!! I am truly sorry it took me so long to get to it, thank you for being patient with me <3 Hope you like it!

You knew your relationship had reached a whole new level when Frank suggested introducing you to his two best friends. It was a big step and you felt a rush of excitement as well as anxiety in your gut at the thought, but you would have never said no — it was important to him, it was obvious in the doe look in his eyes when he brought it up, and you were happy to learn more about him. Surely, by getting acquainted with his dearest friends, you would gain entirely new insight into what kind of man he was.

He had kept you shielded, his own little secret. Well, not exactly, because Curtis and David knew he had fallen in love with someone, but he had been extremely tight-lipped with the details. He hadn’t given them a name, no recognizable features, nothing. Up until now, he had enjoyed the privacy you two had, and maybe partly he had done so because he wasn’t sure you’d stick around. He was a complicated man, but you seemed to care for him, regardless. So, when things began to seem serious between the two of you, he figured the next logical step was bring you to daylight and allow the few people he really trusted to meet you.

On the day of, you were a nervous wreck. You were walking down the street with Frank holding your hand, and he felt the distressed squeezes you were giving him, and noticed your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. It felt like a high-stake evening, because these two men were part of Frank’s inner circle, and you wanted them to accept you into it. And you certainly didn’t want Frank to regret bringing you along.

”Hey, look at me, darlin’”, Frank rasped when you reached the bar you had agreed to meet in, stopping you at the entrance. Sighing heavily, you met his gaze with a frown, and he smiled softly at the nervousness visible on your face. He brushed his thumb across your cheek, his touch tender and careful. ”They gon’ love you, I promise. You got nothin’ to worry ’bout, swear”, he insisted, trying his very best to convince you.

You wanted to believe him, but he had been secretive about his friends just like he had been about you. You had been unable to prepare for the upcoming night in any way because you didn’t know a single thing about who you would find inside, but Frank still seemed certain that you’d charm them.

”Sweetheart”, he spoke firmly to regain your attention, and hesitantly, you looked at him. ”I mean it. I got no doubt in my mind that everythin’ will be fine. This ain’t an interview, they just wanna know who I’ve been spendin’ all my time with”, he went on, his tone reassuring and warm, and it did settle your nerves a little. He was right, and in the end, his opinion was the one that mattered to you the most. He loved you, and surely that would be enough for his friends.

”Okay. Let’s do this”, you decided, and with an attagirl, Frank slung his arm over your shoulders before walking inside with you.

He scanned the room until he spotted his friends, but you failed to follow his stare so you didn’t know which of the people in the bar he was leading you to. Not until you were actually faced with them — a tall, black man with a wide grin on his face, and…

”David?” you blurted out in complete shock, your eyes widening and your stomach dropping. ”What—what are you doing here?” you continued, a nervous chuckle escaping your mouth as your eyes darted between Frank and David, both looking equally confused.

”Cousin? What are you doing here?” he emphasized, questioning your presence with knitted eyebrows. You were at a loss for words, and the tension in the air got to Frank, making him huff as he nodded towards you.

”This is my girl, Lieberman. What the fuck is goin’ on?” Frank cut in, already irritated by David’s tone towards you.

”She’s your—”, David began, turning back to you with a finger pointed at you, ”you’re Frank’s girlfriend?”

Nodding, you stared back at him. ”Yes, I’m his girlfriend”, you confirmed like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and in response, David brought both his hands up to his head like his world was falling apart.

”I’m his friend!” he exclaimed, his loud voice attracting attention, but you were too caught up in the moment to notice. ”You’re dating my cousin?” he directed an accusatory glare at the man next to you, and with a bewildered expression, Frank faced you.

”You’re Lieberman’s cousin?” he asked with genuine surprise, and when you nodded once again, he turned back to David. ”Well, how the fuck was I s’posed to know? You don’t got the same last name, you’ve never even mentioned her—”, Frank started defending himself as well as you, but you quickly interrupted him.

”You never mentioned me? What the fuck, cousin?” you scoffed, and rolling his eyes, David took a much-needed swig of his beer before responding.

”Apparently, you didn’t mention me, either”, he argued back, making you grimace as you realized that was true. You and David were relatively close, but only as close as cousins could be — not nearly enough to warrant telling his life story to Frank. And evidently, not close enough to talk about your dating life with him.

”I’m Curtis”, the other man in the group finally piped up, and you felt heat crawl to your face as you remembered you hadn’t even introduced yourself to him. What a way to make a first impression.

”Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Hi, it’s so nice to meet you”, you rambled while sticking out your hand to him, and smiling in a way that was both polite and amused, Curtis took it and gave it a firm shake.

”Hey, no worries. This must be a hell of a surprise. I guess this could have been avoided if Frank wasn’t so protective”, he pointed out, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend who still held you close to him.

”Nah, this ain’t on me. Had to make sure she wasn’t goin’ anywhere before introducin’ her to you two assholes. Y’all woulda scared her off, anyway”, Frank noted before flashing a grin. ”If I’d known she’s been dealin’ with Lieberman’s bullshit this whole time, I wouldn’t have been so worried”, he reminded, making you snicker.

You took in a deep breath and tried to cool off. ”Alright, well, it’s out now. David and I already know each other but I’m eager to hear all about Curtis. Why don’t we just get a drink and start over?” you proposed, earning agreeing nods — although David seemed a little unhappy with the situation.

”That’s my smart girl. Always resolvin’ shit”, Frank praised you before leaning in to kiss you, his lips locking with yours in a brief but sweet collision. It made you all giddy and relieved the tension in your shoulders, but when you let go, you noticed David pouting by his bottle.

”Alright, Curtis, wanna come get the next round with me?” you suggested, figuring that Frank and David needed to talk it out, and Curtis noticed the same. He was on board immediately, and while asking him about how he had met Frank, you walked over to the bar with him, excited to get to know him.

Once left alone, Frank stepped towards David, folding his hands in front of him while quietly assessing the situation. He wasn’t given the chance to plot an approach, though, when David was already berating him.

”My fuckin’ cousin, man? Are you serious?” he cried out, dramatic as always. Licking his lips, Frank nodded with the desire to be understanding, though at the same time, he wasn’t going to let go of you no matter what David would say.

”Hey, I told you I didn’t know. I woulda talked to you ’bout it if I had any idea”, Frank swore with a serious look. ”I know it’s a weird fuckin’ surprise, but I really care about her, Lieberman. She’s my girl. I ain’t gonna turn my back on her because of this”, he went on, devotion obvious in every word.

Exhaling heavily, David gave in. ”Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t want you to. In fact, if you break her heart, I’ll have no choice but to fuck you up, Frank”, he clarified, dead-serious.

Frank couldn’t help but smirk, entertained by the attempt of a threat. Still, he was willing to agree to his terms. ”Yeah, sure. But I’m tellin’ you, I’m not just fuckin’ around. I, uh, I love her. With all that I got”, he promised, earning an impressed smile from David.

”Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

It wasn’t going to be the last time David tried to protect you by intimidating Frank, and it wasn’t going to be the last time Frank swore that he wouldn’t let you down, and you supposed that was as good as it would get.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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loversatthegreatdivide · 4 months

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Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the drawing room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her.

She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure our mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x oc #bridgerton #heavy lies the heart #loversatthegreatdivide #my writing

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mademoisellegush · 1 year

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On the Emperor and *that* scene

so i went and looked at some of the branches of that conversation -he basically reacts by reflecting and amplifying whatever energy the player gives him. Whatever you say, he will not contradict you.

You reject him, violently? He'll show you how right you are, how much of a monster he is. You reject him, preferring to "stick to business"? so does he. You agree to see him as a potential partner? Not a one-night stand, you are "bonded and it is time to consummate love with war".

Something to keep in mind, however (pun intended) is that "to best protect yourself from illithid manipulation, pay attention to its actions, not words."

tldr: i think the emperor is a very neat character.

The first branch is the disgusted rejection - the one where the player calls him a freak. his reaction is to show you how right you are. a mind controlled Stelmane, how the partnership was puppeteering. "you are my puppet", he tells you. "You have no other choice, if I must, I will force you."

he does not force you to do anything, after that. the threat is there, of course, but it's hollow. empty.

should this be taken at face value? can we trust him, even now, that he is telling the truth? it is certain that he mind controlled stelmane, yes. But was he the one who made her ill?

two items put that into question. a) stelmane's portrait, hung up at his desk along all his treasured possessions from before and after he became an illithid (balduran's butter fork, to go with the butter knife. his old sword, a recipe for fiddlehead soup, his dog Rascal's collar. the emperor's outfit, container for brains, chains for his "meals".)

If he's a liar about everything, why does he have a framed picture of Stelmane? He would not have been able to physically go back and set things up in a Knights of the Shield secret hideout while he was stuck inside the Astral Prism in our pocket from the hells, down to the Underdark, unless i'm getting the timeline of this story majorly wrong.

and b) an account of stelmane's illness.

Stelmane's condition got worse *after* Balduran/the Emperor disappeared, captured by Gortash and the cult of the Absolute.

Make of that what you will. Is this an actual testimony, or something he somehow planted there for you to find, despite the logistical difficulties in doing so? You decide.

2. The violent rejection is the only branch where he does not tell you how big the elder brain has grown. I think that is because there is an actual reaction on his end; something vicious that he's unused to feeling. Not the cold, calculating pragmatism he was praising in the player character three lines ago. Compare the first branch to the following two paths:

What i think is: Balduran uses you. The sole thing he cares above all else is his continued survival, any power gained that way is a side benefit to his goal. If you even get the Orphic hammer, even "as leverage," even as you threaten him, he does not "force you" to do anything, as threatened above. Ansur died, yes, but is self defence murder? Neither Ansur nor Balduran deny that Ansur tried to mercy kill Balduran as he slept.

What I also think: you have to succeed at perception check, in the third guardian dream, to figure out that "the hurt runs deeper than they're willing to show you." then, an insight check (something that requires wisdom, what you use to resist, or lean into, the tadpole's hivemind) "beneath the resilient veneer, a touch of fragility. they need comfort." This allows you to hug them, if you desire - something they say "it has been a very long time since someone did that. for [me]".

Make of that what you will.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #the emperor #balduran #he is an awful little manipulative bastard and i think hes perfect

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yanaleese · 7 months

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◈ Love Me, Kidnap Me, and Love Me More ◈

Yandere! OC Karma x Calculative! Gender Neutral! MC

VER EN ESPAÑOL. MUY PRONTO

Synopsis: You put blood, sweat, and tears into your work. Little did you know, your secret admirer, Marka does it too.

Content warning: Yandere and literally anything that goes with it, violence, hypnosis (not on reader), drugs (implication), and yes there will be a Part 2

PLEASE SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH MONEY, OR WITH A CLICK

Scores, talents, personas.

THESE are the factors that classify the education system. Although not immaculate, it serves its purpose - to send vulnerable people into the workforce, and devour them whole. Their livelihoods, their time, and the minuscule bits of energy left inside of them.

But there are some who are born with advantages, and some who have to work their ass off for it.

I, unfortunately, have the latter. Things don’t come easy, instant, or perfect. I am actually quite idle, I enjoy the freedom of gaining knowledge and insight. Uniquely, tried and tested knowledge that is critical for survival.

And that, is how I manage my late nights. By listening to “Advice to Survive” with its host, McGregory Callahan.

Back in the 60s, he was a CWO-4 Navy Seal officer, a rank given to an exclusive few. And now that he’s retired, he humbly shares his advice to the community, and showcases guests every now and then to keep the show alive. But majority prefers to listen to his voice, which I strongly agree with.

“And so, ladies and gents…” His voice was smooth and husky. “It’s time to sign off, folks. Stay safe, and always remember…” I chuckled, saying his closing lines with him.

“Live, not die, and try to survive. Thanks everyone.”

As the radio chipped off, the sun poured its rays into my window, as if the heat wasn’t enough. I groaned, my eyes leading me to my collection of “wake-up” capsules. Tempted, and deceived, I slithered my way over to it, dropping another 2 or 3 in my mouth.

I grumbled. Regret seeped into my veins, my body woozy and tense. Once again, I stayed up.

And of course, it happened to be a Monday morning; where I had a morning class. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I began stuffing my bag with my utensils, paperwork, snacks. I could never get used to this shit. “I hope nobody pisses me off for the rest of the day.”

◈

“The bell. Ugh, the damn bell. Never have I wanted to smash that thing into pieces.” You could barely make out the crowd, more or less. Not even your best friend’s face.

“Wait. You had a rough night…again?” Heidi glared, her eyes were practically glowing with concern.

“Maaaaaaybe.” You slurred, taking baby steps to your seat. “Good thing my seat mate is a quiet kid.”

Speak of the devil, Marka entered the room, his footfalls silent as he strolled to your direction. His timing was impeccable.

“Good morning, Marka.” You mumbled, your eyes not meeting his. Besides, there were no eyes thanks to his bangs.

“Heh…” In response, Marka gave an exciting grin, happily waving a good morning back to you. How he could be energized on a Monday morning, was a complete mystery to you.

Actually, a lot of him is shrouded in mystery. Or rather, in suspicion.

Other than the weird name, Marka was supposedly from the countryside of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. His parents were also from Honduras, and he worked as a pizza delivery driver, and stayed at a friend’s apartment for shelter, with the purpose of redoing college thrice to get a degree. While some of this is true, some of it didn’t add up.

For example, his idioms. Sometimes he would say “Puchica” , “Chero”, “Chivo” - and when I looked them all up, the common denominator was El Salvador. He said his parents came from Honduras, so how can this be true?

“[Y/N].”

Then him, being the pizza delivery driver. You don’t often order pizza, but you’ve never thought that pizza could smell so shitty. You could remember him rushing to one of your afternoon classes, and instead of smelling like oil and grease, he smelt like weed. What the fuck???

“Hello? [Y/N]?”

Plus, the fact that he is redoing the course a third time. And yet, every single exam he is perfectly scoring an average mark. He also ends before everyone else, as if he has all the time in the world.

That’s not normal.

Though you’ve never confronted Marka about this, you preferred to remain silent. Times are harsh, and you weren’t willing to stretch out a hand when you could barely help yourself.

But there is NO way that you’re befriending someone as suspicious as him.

“[Y/N]!!!” Heidi whisper-shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“[Y/N], please answer-“ Mr. Dimmy paused, clearing his throat. “Actually. On second thought, please see me after class. Thank you.”

You bit my lip, letting it bleed. Fuck. You spaced out again.

“Sir I-“

“No buts, no coconuts.”

While cursing yourself internally, you decided to take out your vent book out of your bag, only to be stopped by Mr. Dimmy once more.

“[Y/N]. Can you please answer the question on the board for me, please?”

Shit, you just opened your bag.

“Give me a moment-“

“[Y/N].”

Clenching your fists, you gave a plastic smile. It was understandable where he was coming from, since he didn’t want his star pupil to daydream for the second time.

“My bad, Sir. Hopefully I’ll get this right.”

As you were busy solving the equation, Marka decided to do you a favor and close up your bag. So by the time you came back, Marka grinned, hoping for a thanks to come out of it. But you decided to ignore the kind gesture, continuing to pay attention to the board. You had enough attention for one day.

◈

If there was one thing you loved, it was clocks. It was nice to know how the time passed, whether it was rapid or abnormally slow. And of course, it was slow.

“[Y/N], this has happened on multiple occasions.” Mr. Dimmy rubbed his temples, exhausted from having the same conversation with you. “We, as staff, made it clear that you can take days off.”

“I’m very sorry Sir, but I can’t do that-“

“[Y/N], enough with the excuses. You are not enough getting enough sleep, and it’s affecting your concentration.”

Scores, talents, personas: nothing on this conversation applied to that. Kindness was a pain in the ass.

“And so, I’m going to ask the dean to personally give you a suspension. A whole week suspension.”

You had to hold your tongue. Why do you have to do triple the work???

“Sir. I’m behind on what I need to cover. I’m begging you, please just let it slide.”

“But [Y/N], you are three weeks ahead. Taking a week off is enough right now. Trust me.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 9:47, the minute hand approximately reaching the next minute.

“If I see you Tuesday afternoon, I will personally escort you outside. That is all.”

Rubbing your eyes, you ran to the top of the stairs, before making yourself out. You couldn’t believe what just happened.

“[Y]-[Y/N]…” It was Heidi.

“Heidi. I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Text me later if you’re curious.” Your demands were quick and stern.

Poor Heidi snuggled her books, her expression shaping into pity and guilt. If only you could just take a break.

◈

“Giggles, after giggles. These fucking cuches don’t know when to quit it, don’t they?”

“Markaaaa…” She snorted, sounding exactly just like he called her: a pig. “Teach me a little Spanish, no?~ ❤️”

Marka shook his head, his face clearly showing discomfort.

“Come on, we wanna hear it! Maybe we can fuck it up, you know?”

Damn that Rico bastard. He never knew how to read a room.

“I said no.” Marka ran his fingers through his bangs, revealing the swirling darkness within his eyes. “Now learn to be good little shits, I’m in a bad mood.”

Immediately, the entire group stood completely still. Before seconds later, horrifying shrieks escaped people’s lips. Some froze in horror, sweating profusely. Others just ran away from Marka, while some fought with him. Luckily, thanks to his physique he could handle his attackers pretty clearly.

“Ha…shame…” He continued to hit Rico with every punch, starting to see blood oozing out of him. Marka couldn’t help but grin in sadistic glee. “This hypnosis is always pure luck for me.”

Grabbing the leg of one of his classmates. Marka twisted, fractured, and even jumped on her leg, which was perfectly in sync with his words.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Marka cursed out loud, growling in frustration. Every time he thought about you, the feeling wouldn’t go away. “I just wanted to do a good deed. Why. Won’t. They. Love. Me.”

Hearing the classmate’s sharp cry, Marka kicked the person away from him, heading to your locker. It was encased in a shitload of locks, all of them personally made by yourself. You knew how to be efficient and useful.

Too bad Marka knew lockpicking a bit too well. “It’s been a while since my last rejection…so let’s see what’s here now-“

With a clink, he guided his fingers to first few letters he made….only to find them….

Crushed.

“….”

He should’ve been used to this by now. The dust, the grime, the dead spiders. After finally getting a fresh new locker, it was understandable that you cleaned up the space.

But you didn’t. You decided to make your old locker your new dumpster bag instead - including his love letters.'

His scarred thumb clutched the pink envelope, or the crushed up ball that it was. He could remember the time he had to go off on business, missing college for an entire week. He had to stay low due to a shot out, which resulted him gaining a major injury in the shoulder and his left hand. He didn’t mind the injuries due to past experiences, but he was…depressed. Marka couldn’t see anyone, neither be online lest he got found out. It was a decision that both he and José made for his safety.

And so, to satiate his loneliness, he wrote to you. Even though his left hand was twitching in pain, he wrote. Even though his brain was telling him to stop because of the pain; he wrote. He wrote because he knew that you gave him the happiness, the hope that he needed for this world. Yes, you were flawed…but with each other, the two of you could heal one another’s scars. Right?

“….Ha….”

His hands shook in silent rage as dark droplets dropped on to the paper. I’m sure you didn’t know any better, it was simply a misunderstanding. Yes, yes - it was miscommunication.

It was understandable, since he didn’t make it clear. He didn’t flirt with you since it wasn’t your thing. I guess the letters weren’t either.

Maybe he’d have to try something…a bit more drastic.

“I need to know…do they love me…? Do they not? Maybe….”

Clutching the paper in his chest, he started chuckling to himself. No, grinning madly as he stared at the locker in front of him, his face contorted into something twisted and grotesque.

“Maybe it’s time I should pay your house a visit, hmm? ❤️~.”

NOTES:

Cuche = Means pig in Salvadorian slang. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ qᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ, ᴊᴏsᴇ́ ᴏʀ ʜᴇɪᴅɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ɪɴʙᴏx.

#karma #karma imagines #qc #karma lore??? not rly #i mean....I wouldn't say karma lore. Maybe Karma imagine?#yeah cause this relies on probability...so.#male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere blog #yancore #yandere male #yande.re #yandere boy #yandere mafia #yandere x male darling #yandere x darling

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hoshigray · 1 year

Text

Swim in Waves, Chill in Caves ༄ S. Geto

"I went to the beach with my friends!! Only for me to...run into Gojo again!!? And to make things crazier, I met his attractive best friend who heard "so much" about me??!! Thanks to Gojo's nonstop blabber-mouth, Geto was interested in me in ways I would rather not be known for!"

A/n: Yessir, three for three, it's time for the third part of my summer series!! It's now Geto's turn to have a piece of Y/n, and, like Gojo, this is my first time writing something for Geto! In case you aren't aware, this fic is linked with Gojo's fic as the plot from his fic propels the actions of what's going to transpire in Geto's narrative. I hope you enjoy this, and tysm for 1.7k followers, giving each and every single one of ya a hug (unless you don't like hugs, then I send you finger guns, pew pew!!)

Also, this is connected to the Gojo fic previously released. So if there are references that have you like "???," you're free to go read that fic first before diving straight into this one. And yeah, without further ado, please enjoy this piece~☆

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Geto is around early 30s) - oral (m! + f! receiving) - heavy depictions of a blowjob - semi-handjob - sex at an open area; cave by the beach - 69+ doggy style/backshots + missionary position - unprotected sex but Geto doesn't shoot inside (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - fucking while the sun sets, lmaooo - pet names (baby, cutie, sweetheart, sweetie, princess) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - Gojo is here so expect some silliness.

Wc: 7.2k (7.9k with bonus scene...I stayed up til 6 am finishing this)

Dear Diary...It has come to my attention that I've seen you this summer way more than I anticipated. Truthfully, I never expected to need you again. While life for me is unpredictable right now, the only thing I can turn to is you...

"Hey, Megumi!" Your body jerks at a familiar voice. "Have you seen Y/n?"

"They said they went to grab something real quick." Another familiar voice. "Now help me with this cooler, Itadori."

"Right, on it!"

It's now coming down to the middle of summer. An entire month and a half of internship has kept you busy, constantly building new skills within your career exploration. In addition, you gain new skills and insights from your colleagues. And now that your practicum is almost over, you can't help but feel a rise in accomplishment.

So, how do you celebrate? By going to the beach with your best buds! Oh yes, the gang — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara — who are all proud of all you've done this summer thought it's best to go out and hang out this weekend! You weren't one to turn down a lovely day at the beach with your friends, so you packed up your cutest bathing suit, hopped in Nobara's car with the rest, and the four of you drove to enjoy the day together.

With the smell of the ocean hitting your nostrils and the rays of the sun bathing your skin, the day was going great as you and your friends enjoyed every moment of it!

That is until during the delightful moment that you bumped into a familiar face — a face you didn't think you'd ever see again, not with your friends present at the very least. And it's thanks to said familiar face you've once again stumbled upon an unpredictable dilemma.

So much so that you are hiding from your friends, inside a guest room at a beach house, writing in your diary. And yes, said beach house doesn't belong to you, not even your friends. So how did you end up in some random person's estate? Well, leave it to your pen and paper to retell what conspired today.

Firstly, my friends and I just finished lunch at this seafood restaurant (NTS: they offer superb seafood boils). Having walked along the boardwalk for about half an hour, it was time to head for the beach...

The sun was blazing hot outside, yet the ocean breeze kept heat bearable. Many people were at the beach this time of year, families building sandcastles together and surfers riding the active waves. Not to mention the many children bringing life to the setting by playing around in the shallow tides.

You and your friends were able to find a nice, comfortable place to put your stuff at. Before swimming, the four of you figured it'd be great to stretch your bodies around and play some beach volleyball! There was only one problem: other families and athletes had taken all the nets, and none of your brought one of your own (plus they're expensive). So what do you do? Use what ya got and just pass the ball!

"I got it!" Yuuji shouts as he dives to prevent the ball from hitting the sand, propelling it up for Nobara to set up for you.

"It's yours, Megumi!" you call out the raven-haired friend who digs the ball for Itadori to pass.

Five minutes become ten, and ten minutes become fifteen. Before you know it, thirty minutes of constant back and forth between the volleyball has you all engrossed in the game, completely forgetting about the body of water that is waiting for y'all to participate. Although, you all were having way too much fun to stop.

Well, until Nobara jumps and spikes the ball a little too hard and hits Itadori right in the face, the ball flying further away from your direction. You call out to say you'll get it while the brunette argues with the salmon-haired other ("Nobara, you did that on purpose!" "Oh, shut up. Let me see your face, ya big baby.")

Your eyes never leave the ball as you run to catch it from the air. I got it, I got it!

However, you should've paid attention to what's in front of you rather than above. Because had you done so, you would've noticed the dark-haired man who jumped up to catch the ball mid-air. Shocking you for a split second before you come bulldozing to another person, bringing you both down to the sandy ground.

You assess no sense of pain on your end and then realize you're on top of the man you came crashing towards. So apologies are quickly thrown to the other below you while you slowly get up. "Oh my God, I'm so, so sorry about that! I should've looked where I was going!"

"No, no, you're fine..." the man you notice has snow-white hair mumbles under his breath, taking off his dark circle shades to flick off any sand. "Damn, you got a strong tackle; someone outta scout you for a scholarship."

The comment was meant to bring humor to the situation. You stifle a giggle. "Please, I really am sorry abo—" Before you could finish that sentence, your eyes start to take in all of the man's appearance — whose tall figure you're still crawled up on. White hair and lashes, beautiful blue eyes, tall, lean build with chiseled abs I want to rub against—HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE!!!

You remove yourself from the male and stand to look at him from above. Even with the blue Hawaiian shirt opened up to proudly display his pecs and abdomen and the black and purple swimming trunks, the surname you said was the only candidate for who you were looking at. "GOJO!!??"

The man you have spoken with on an online dating app not too long ago. The man you went on a blind date. The man you slept with on the same night. Satoru Gojo peeks up at you before putting his sunglasses back on, sky blue eyes widen with recognition, and a cheeky smile creeps up on his face. "Well, well, fancy seeing you again, princess."

The familiar pet name causes your face and ears to be covered in an agonizing heat beyond the sun's authority, especially when the white-haired man stands up and dusts off the sand on his shirt and swimwear. His height that once had you taken aback the first meeting, doing so the second time around, and of course, the fucker had to have his abs out for you to gawk. "W-What are you doing here?" Your perplexity was still adamant in your question.

"I'm here to enjoy the nice summer sun, aren't you~" he replies with his usual chipper attitude. "Actually, though, I always come down to spend a weekend with my close friends — it's kinda like a tradition we do every year. One of them has a beach house not too far from here."

You blink. "Close...friends?"

"Yo, Satoru," another voice behind Gojo hooks your attention. "You know this person?"

The man who spoke was another fairly tall man — not absolutely towered by Gojo, but fair enough for you to notice the slight difference. Long jet black, draped hair kept in the back with bangs that partially cover his left eye. A matching Hawaiian shirt with a red color (and, unfortunately, also exhibiting his stomach and pectorals) and black and red trunks complete the look. And he's holding the volleyball that pummeled poor Yuuji's face.

You only stare at him as Gojo does the introductions. "Hmm? Oh, Y/n. This is my best friend, Geto. You know, the one I told you about."

Geto, Geto...The name is repeated until it rings a bell, and everything around you comes to a standstill. Suguru Geto, the best friend of Satoru Gojo since high school. Just when this day couldn't get any worse, you not only bump into your one-night stand but meet his infamous partner in crime from their days of youth. And worse, he's just as [if not more] attractive than the slender snow-haired fellow!

"Wait! He's THE best friend??" You exclaim, and Gojo happily confirms your suspicions.

"Yeah, that's him! The one whose hair I barfed on when I chugged that beer at the house party and gave me a weed brownie as payback!"

"Is that story the only thing you want people to know me for?" Geto glares at his friend, but the taller other only shrugs off the complaint. Geto sighs and turns to you, and then his brows draw upward while surveying your figure. "Y/n...You mean the one who—"

"Hey, Y/n!" Your stomach drops to the ground remembering you didn't come to the beach alone, turning around to see the other three make their way to you. The salmon-haired man, his face red from Nobara's spike, resumes speaking. "What's the holdup?"

You try to answer until Gojo cuts you off with a joyful salutation. "Megumi!"

Your raven-haired friend doesn't return the exact manner, greeting with a scowl. "Gojo..."

What the fuck!!? "You two know each other??"

"Of course! Me and Megumi have been pals since he was in his elementary years." The high school teacher informs you as if it was a known fact, feeding more to your stupefied mind. "Known his dad for years; we're practically family friends!"

"More like an annoying uncle..." Megumi rolls his eyes before turning to face you. "Don't get mixed up with this guy, Y/n. He may seem like a likable guy. But he's just a carefree clown who doesn't take things seriously. Both out and in private life." Based on the emphasis on that last assertion, Megumi is aware of Gojo's philandering activities. You nod at your friend's advice, but the gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob in your throat is difficult to swallow. I'm afraid that's too little too late...

Gojo places a hand on his heart and conveys a faux hurt expression. "Jeez, Megumi, your words cut deep, you know...Besides," your body goes rigid when the tall man wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Me and Y/n have already been introduced before."

"Hm? How do you know this dude, Y/n?" Nobara is the one to ask the question for the other two, and now you're pushed into a predictable corner you couldn't foresee coming today of all days.

The reason why you went on a blind date with Gojo in the first place is because of a dumb bet, thanks to Nobara. And after said date, you told the brunette about it — minus mentioning that you went with Gojo. The only thing you noted to her was that the person's name started with an "S" and the last with a "G" ("Wow, can you be vague enough, Y/n?"). Nothing about their physical appearance other than the guy being tall. Now, with the said guy who fits the criteria slouching close with his arm around you, the countdown to your eventual, embarrassing demise begins.

You turn to the tall man, a mutual signal for aid. But before Gojo could say anything, the other male behind him intervenes — "Y/n met Gojo through me," Geto admits disingenuous. "We were at a diner, and we saw them walking by and got to talk with them for a while.

Everyone turns to look at the dark-haired man, you and Gojo bearing a look of confusion. But you don't say anything; neither of you does when Geto gives you two a quick wink for reassurance.

The trio stares at the two men before Nobara walks up and takes the volleyball from Geto's hands. "Is that right...Well, Mr. Man Bun—"

"Geto."

"Yeah, whatever," the correction doesn't faze her. "Since you and your friend here seem to be acquaintances with Y/n, how about you come play some ball with us. I saw you jump to catch the ball, so don't complain about some old man bones."

You squeak from the boisterous laugh Gojo lets out, "Ohoho, don't start something you can't finish. Ever heard of respecting your elders?"

The brunette grins, "Nah, fuck that."

"Hmph, that's what I like to hear." Finally, Gojo lets go of you and walks with the three to play by your spot. A giant sigh isn't enough to convey the emotional distress you're experiencing, especially now that your one-night stand is now socially fitting in with your best friends.

So much for acquaintances...

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Two hours fly by excruciatingly slow because now that Gojo has met your friends and has been spending time with them, you can see that they start to like and adapt to his friendly attitude (can't say the same for Megumi, the raven-haired friend taking his presence in a tolerable form). Perhaps hadn't you known the man prior, you would've felt the same. Unfortunately, though, this is the exact man that had your tipsy ass bouncing on his cock in a hotel room after drinking three cocktails. Memories of that night have your face transition to an insufferable heat.

To make matters worse, Gojo had the brilliant idea of bringing you guys to the residence he and Geto were staying at. A simple yet lovely and cozy two-story beach house by the boardwalk that his other close friend owns, overlooking the beautiful ocean. Said friend — Shoko Ieiri, a well-acclaimed surgeon — welcomed the four young adults to her space, telling them to make themselves home. And when Yuuji opens his big dumb mouth saying that the four of you haven't checked in to a hotel yet, the older woman insists you stay in her spare rooms on the bottom floor! Because any friend of the snow-haired idiot is a friend of hers.

So now your turmoil grows tenfold, seeing your friends getting closer and closer to Gojo's inner circle, the pit of your stomach stirring into an uncomfortable swirl of emotions. If you hadn't met the man before this trip, you'd enjoy being in the same boat as your friends and not kicking yourself repeatedly as your two worlds collide unintentionally.

You sigh heavily, watching Yuuji and Nobara play Uno with Gojo and Shoko at the kitchen island while Megumi and Geto discuss themselves on the living area couch. Figuring you might need some fresh air, you get up and exit the relaxing home to enter the back porch, the sun's heat greeting your air-conditioned skin back in its natural warmth.

You sit on the rocking chair facing the oceanfront, the gorgeous view of the body of water for you to see. You close your eyes as you rock yourself, and the summer breeze brushing against your skin puts your body into a calm trance. Being outside helps you collect your thoughts in this jarring situation. It's evident now that this moment with yourself was necessary to ease the mental gymnastics you've been experiencing since before you came to this beach house.

So in tune with the quiet surroundings around you that you almost sink into your tranquil state. Almost. Until you hear the door open, snapping your eyes open to see whoever it is that decided to disrupt your personal reflection. And you silently gasp at the man who pays you a visit — Geto.

"Hey," his soft tone smooth like butter, inviting himself into your space as he sits in the rocking chair parallel to you, blocking the ocean view with his appearance. "I figured you'd still be out here; your friends were looking for you, and you've been sitting here for about ten whole minutes."

"I have!?" You chirp at the fact, to which the man chuckles and nods to confirm. "Huh...I didn't notice. I was just enjoying the silence, I guess."

"Hmm, I get it," the dark-haired man hums at your answer, then looks around the porch. "I don't blame you; with a view and place like this, I'd be out here all the time too."

By nodding, you agree. "You're extremely blessed to be friends with Ms. Ieiri. Get to spend time with her and Gojo at this wonderful beach house."

"Pssh, I'd say I'm more lucky to be a friend of Shoko's than with Satoru," the light chuckle he lets out activates a small smile from you. "You've already heard stories of me and him being roommates in college, barfing on my hair and such."

"Yes, I have, and I'm on your side wholeheartedly. I'd get back at him too, from all the stupid pranks and stuff he's put you through." Your agreement has the older man laugh some more. "But, I can tell Gojo you are close, having been together through thick and thin...Oh! And, I guess I have to thank you for your help back on the beach; your excuse about me meeting you two at a diner."

Geto leans and rocks with the rocking chair while his dark eyes are on you. "No problem. I figured your friends wouldn't know about your date with him. He's told me all about it, so I just mixed some words around to make it sound plausible for your friends."

You just nod and croon to his response. Until your brows furrow and you look straight at him. "Wait, what do you mean 'all about it'?"

You watch his eyes narrow slightly, the uneasiness in your stomach returning to haunt you. "I mean what it means. He mentioned every detail — from your cute outfit when he picked you up to the fun dinner you had at the diner. And..." The grin on Geto's face only exacerbates the feeling of dread that was once gone. "I'm sure you know the rest."

"The rest?" you gulp.

"The rest."

Sure enough, before you could express anguish to the man before you, the door to the back porch opened again with vigor. And the one behind it is the person you didn't want to see right now, or else you just might strangle that playful smile off his stupidly charming peachy face. Gojo exclaims, "There ya are! Shoko ordering takeout while your friends are finding a movie to watch, then we'll eat some s'mores around the fire pit when it gets dark out. Come inside Y/n~"

Geto only watches your adorable face harbor an expression that could only have Death itself clutch its pearls. But not wanting to do anything crass, you take a deep breath and get up from your rocking chair. "Umm, I'll pass on that. I was thinking of just walking around the boardwalk, maybe swimming in the waves while the sun's still up. Wanna come along, Mr. Geto?"

The sudden invitation takes him aback, but the man rises from his chair. "Sure, I'm down for that."

"Ehhhh, you're goin' without me?" Gojo exhibits a pouty face that doesn't work on you.

"Sorry, Gojo; just stay here and be hospitable. My friends seem to like you, anyway. Plus, I don't feel like dealing with you right now..." you mumbled that final part for only you to hear, excusing yourself past the white-haired other so you could grab your shoes from inside the beach house. And Geto only observes the interaction quietly as it baffles his best friend, who turns to him and points in your direction.

"What did I do?" is his question. And it gets more confusing to him when Geto only follows you back inside, leaving the conversation with a smirk.

"What didn't you do, Satoru?"

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"And then, when he was out like a light, I dumped the whole thing on him."

"No way, Geto!"

"Way." The man's smile broadens as he watches you fail to hide your laughter behind your hands. "It's what he gets for resetting my alarms and making me miss my oral exam. Plus, he ate my entire cereal box I hadn't used yet."

"So you thought the best way to get payback was to dump a whole basin full of spoiled milk and cigarette ashes on him while he was sleeping?"

"You know when you say it like that," he cocks his head. "I probably should've pissed in it, too." You playfully hit the older man in a fit of wheezed laughter, and he joins you in entertaining his silliness.

You and Geto have been out for quite some time. Your agenda was just comprised of taking a nice quick walk around the area and swimming to cool your mind from Gojo, and then you'd return in a more calm slate. What you didn't foresee was Geto taking up your offer to come along. And, you have to admit, he's been great company for you.

Not only did he give you a mini tour around the area, showing you all the little local shops and places to eat that he recommended to try. But he also wanted to join you in your swim, discarding his Hawaiian shirt entirely to the sandy ground and exposing his beautiful upper body. You did tell him that he didn't have to while trying not to drool over his gorgeous abs, but your concerns didn't waiver his decision. "I'm still wearing my trunks for a reason, cutie." When he uses that nickname on you, let him do as he wishes.

The two of you swim in the calm ocean, enjoying the comforting feeling of the water and play fighting with Geto anytime he'd splash water your way. Call it childish, but you were enjoying yourself. Enjoying him being around.

Soon the sun goes down, and the sky is painted in a stunning array of colors as it sets. Not too far from the shore, Geto treats you to a small ice cream shop that sells notorious homemade ice cream, and he takes you to one of his favorite secret spots. With one hand with a cup of your favorite ice cream and a plastic spoon in the other, you and the raven-haired man watch the sunset in a cave and talk amongst yourselves. Small waves crashing on the sandy and rocky front fills the empty cave with a comfortable atmosphere.

"Unbelievable," you say through tiny giggles. "You're no better than Gojo; both of you were insufferable."

"We still are," he takes another spoonful of his ice cream. "Even as adults, we're still the same intolerable duo who managed to get college diplomas."

You laugh some more at his joke. "I still find it hard to believe that he's a teacher and you a district attorney." The man only shrugs while finishing his ice cream. "But, honestly, it's kinda nice knowing you guys never changed through the years. Still the same no matter what."

"Yeah, I'm still a slick, sly bastard, and he'll always be the blue-eyed sheep that doesn't know when to shut up."

You glance to the side to look at him, staring at the open entrance of the cave where the sun is covered by clouds in its descent to the horizon. Your eyes gradually peer from his handsome face down to his well-sculpted physique, the sun's warm glow painting his skin beautifully. You've noted this before, but Geto is a remarkably attractive man.

It's seen by the structure of his face, his olive skin contrasting the long draped hair that goes past his shoulders. His black eyes make you feel as if you're staring at an endless void, captivating enough that you sense him seeing through you. And his black gauge earrings stand him out from the crowd, but they fit perfectly with his personality and body.

He's so hot is what you think to yourself, but it's a thought that has you quickly assess what the hell you're doing. And when your eyes go back up to his face, you see that he's looking dead at you, eyes narrowed with a guileful smile. You turn away in shame, for looking longer than necessary and for thinking such indecent thoughts about the best friend of your one-night stand. You are not about to do this right now, Y/n. Pull yourself together!

"Uhh—Ahem, speaking of that not knowing when to shut up," you cough to steer back into conversation. "I can't believe Gojo would go into such detail about our date. Especially...that."

The man shrugs again. "I mean, that's just how we've rolled; I tell him things about my life, and he tells me about his — including his playboy love life. Besides, I'm sure you have moments you share with your buddies."

"True, but..." you groan with your left hand on your face. "I'd rather not be known for explicit things I've done. And what's worse, having to see you — his best friend — and you know about me from the date two weeks prior is just adding salt to the injury.

Geto doesn't say anything right away, just watching you experience hopelessness so he can find the proper words to express it. "I get it, kinda how I don't like him telling stories of me to people I don't know...However," his hand steadily moves from the rocky surface to your right hand, and he sees your shoulders jerk at the action. "I'd be lying if I said I'm not kinda glad to hear about you."

Your breath hitches at his words, glancing back and forth to his hand sliding across yours and his face. He resumes.

"To be frank with you, I've never met any of the people Satoru's hooked up with, nor did I ever care to. So you can imagine me being perplexed seeing you in person. And to my surprise," his slender fingers pry to intertwine with yours, and you allow him. "After hanging out with you today, I'm seeing what Satoru sees in you. You're very breathtaking."

Geez, he's a smooth talker, too, huh. Your cheeks go intolerably hot, unable to avert your eyes from his. "Umm, Geto—"

"And it got me thinking, ya know: can such a cute, sweet thing really do such things?" The grip of his hand tightens around yours. "Had me intrigued just from looking at you..."

You gulp before saying your words carefully. "Are you...saying you're interested in my...services?"

His brows lift for an instant. "Only if you're up to demonstrate."

This day keeps getting stranger and stranger, and now you're met with the most bizarre moment that could ever transpire. Wide eyes only look back at the man who awaits your answer, and you internally curse Satoru Gojo for putting you through this entire mess of a day!

But a small part of yourself has you battling a moral battle. It's not every day you bump into your one-night stand on a random weekend and be given an opportunity to fuck their best friend that same day. What you're going through right now is only something you'd see in crappy movies and fanfictions (a/n: ouch).

And besides, it's not your fault that this is happening to you. It was Gojo's, yeah. If the man knew when to keep your name out of his mouth, you wouldn't have to go through this madness — and worse — his closest friend wanting to fuck you.

It's his fault that you're now straddling Geto's lap on top of the smooth rocky surface inside of a cave, smacking lips and exchanging passionate breaths. It's his fault that you're whimpering sweetly in Geto's ear as his hands sneak inside your bathing suit to fondle your breasts, pinching the nipples now erect from his touch. It's his fault that you're grinding on his best friend's erection and kissing all the way down from his neck, abdomen, and finally to his pelvis — where you remove his swimming trunks to reveal free the hard cock ready for you.

It's all Gojo's fault...But thanks to him, you can treat yourself to this alluring piece of a man before you. Your suspense and enjoyment climb up from the thought of it.

The two of you are positioned to do the sixty-nine, both of your swimwear discarded off your bodies. Your cheeks go hollow as you take the tip of Geto's dick inside your mouth, your tongue swirling around the glans of his cock, resulting in a hiss from the man below your ass.

"Hmmm, damn, haven't done this position in a while," his hands roam around your buttocks, spreading your asscheeks to further expose the vulva. Your essence shimmering from the setting sun has the man whistle at the sight. "So pretty down here, too."

The compliment pushes you to push your face further to suck in more of his shaft, covering the limb within your oral cavity inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat. You give yourself a short while to get used to his girth in your mouth before you start bobbing your head, soft lips sliding up and down the veins decorating his length.

The raven-haired other groans at the feeling of your mouth around his cock. "Mmmm, yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Just like that..." And before you know it, he brings your ass down to him for his tongue to lick your tempting folds. Your yelp is muffled, and the lapping motions of his wet muscle on your chasm send shivers up your spine.

But you don't let it distract you from the cock in your mouth, resuming your task of pleasing him. You bring a hand to pump his shaft, sliding to and fro from the top to the base. The action causes him to jerk into your mouth with pleasure, and the grip around your ass tightens. He's enjoying it, and it pleases you knowing you're making him feel good.

"Mmmph! Ohh shit—Ummph!" He removes his lips from your cunt, his moans more audible than the sound of waves in the background. "Shit, if you keep at it, I'm gonna—Shit, shit, shit..." It's here that your movements go faster and more sensational, kissing and sucking the head of his cock while you massage and knead his scrotum. The jolts of his legs become apparent, signaling that his release is close. "Oh, fuck...Princess, I'm gonna cum!"

Taking his comment into account, your mouth takes in his cock back in, his size now adapted to your mouth and throat that you bob in comfortable haste. Your tongue brushing up and down the underside of his cock has his fingernails dent marks onto the flesh of your ass. And when his hips snap up to your face, his climax hits your mouth that very second, his load spilling into your mouth and down the glossy walls of your throat. You accept his come, sucking and drinking his bitter fluid with no complaints.

"Haaah, hmmm, did so good, baby. So fucking good...Mmmph!" His cock is still sensitive from experiencing his orgasm; regardless, you don't let him go until you clean him up entirely. And when you finish, a soft 'pop' leaves your puffy lips from his pink glans. He snickers when you turn to him over your shoulder, licking your lips from any remnants. "Heh, damn, you're really good at this. Makes me feel bad that I didn't get you to finish either."

Your smile's bright as the warm glow that bathes your skin. "Don't worry about it," you comfort him while removing your body from on top of him. You lay your face down with your cheek kissing the ground, your hands coming to spread your ass for Geto to gaze at your messy vagina. "I know you'll do a better job where it really matters."

The smirk on his face gets broader as he gets on his knees, moving to your inviting form. "I'll be sure to not disappoint just as you haven't for me."

"Don't jinx yourself," you tease the older man and giggle when he playfully smacks your butt. You bite your bottom lip with the feeling of his cockhead gliding on your folds, your fluids lubricating him as your entrance throbs in anticipation. When he aligns and pushes his dick into you, you remind yourself to breathe steadily and brace for the slight pain bound to happen. One inhale one push of him. Another intake while gradually forcing himself onto you. When you sharply gasp, you know he made himself inside. Tears water up your eyes as he slowly drives his length into you, your tight walls gripping onto the foreign limb intruding.

Geto gives himself a few seconds to adapt to you when the base of his length kisses your southern lips. He starts with slow thrusts, and your body follows his steady cadence. You hum to the blissful sensation of his cock grazing your walls.

"Mmngh, God, Y/n, you feel so fucking good on me," the man rasped, jet-black strands from his bands now sticking to his sweaty forehead and cheek. "...Trying to make me go crazy."

"Mmmph! Haaaah, haha, please, go all out on me," you coax him. "Don't think I can take it?"

Your snarky question has him chortle, and a sudden deep thrust prompts a shriek to sneak past your lips. "Don't say I didn't warn you, sweetie."

He dials up his pace to a faster tempo. The change-up has you whimpering, and you clench around his length, which has the man hiss at the abrupt contact. The electrifying waves of pleasure strike you when he hits your weak spots perfectly, and more moans seethe out from your pretty lips when he increases his speed.

"Nnngh!! Y/n, baby, you're too tight on me," he whines, but his hips don't stop smacking into your ass. "Fuck, oh fuck....let me see your face."

You allow him to maneuver you onto your back, situating you into the missionary position. His cock slides back inside you with ease with a cry from your mouth, your arms wrapped around his neck while he pounds into you. And in this position, with the sun just about to sink into the horizon, you can make out a hue of purple in his dark eyes. So enchantingly irresistible that it takes another harsh thrust to bring you back into reality.

Geto's pelvis slams into your chasm hard — plugging his dick further into you and hitting your sweet spots with scary precision. Your screams fill the cave with an echo, adding to the ranchy air between your sweaty bodies.

"Ohhh! Hoooh!! Getooo, you feel so good! S' goo—Oh fucking Christ, Ahhhnn!!" He grinds the base of his cock into the entrance of your vulva, scraping your tight, velvety walls to the point of tears rolling down your face.

"You too, princess—Hmmph!!" He groaned, jabbing your cunt where you form incoherent sentences. Head pounding and mind foggy, you lock your legs around his waist, caging him. "Gonna cum, sweetheart?"

"Yesss, yessssss!!" Your response slurs in babbles. You feel it crawling up your bones, goosebumps prickling your skin. "Gonna cummm, cumm—Ahhhhh!!" Unbeknownst to you, Geto snakes a hand down to your clitoris, using his middle and forefinger to swipe and grind on the tender bud. And when he flicks and pinches it, your orgasm is finally granted to you.

Your legs shake and tremble around the black-haired man, gripping his shoulders as the walls around his girth contract around him as you experience your crescendo. With the flutter of your cunt, a few deep thrusts are propelled into you before he removes himself from your embrace, taking out his cock to ejaculate his seed onto your stomach. His come paints your tummy, feeding more to your disheveled appearance.

The two of you look deep into each other's eyes while experiencing the final shocks of your climaxes; heaving bodies eventually calm down and fall back to regular breathing. And when it vanishes altogether, the sun has already submerged below the horizon line.

"Hmmm, well," Geto is the first to break the silence. "That was better than I expected. Thanks for indulging my curiosity."

You shake your head and laugh short-winded. "Glad I washed your expectation." Your smile grows larger when he winks at you.

"Think we should start heading back?"

"Mmmm, yeah. But can we just stay here for a few minutes? Kinda like being in your secret spot."

Geto chuckles while positioning himself to lie next to you. "Sure thing. And don't worry, I won't say a word about this. We're in my secret cave for a reason." He laughs harder when you roll your eyes, his hand finding yours to hold again. This time, you reciprocate.

"Yeah, I'd hope so."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The pen in your hand stops writing when a sound from behind alerts you of someone's presence. While seated, you turn to see Gojo in a more comfortable change of attire — swapping his trunks for black basketball shorts and his blue Hawaiian shirt for a dark blue zip-up hoodie, although it wasn't zipped at all. He's very much casual with what he wears, especially when guests are in the house...

"Found you~ Itadori has been asking for you, and everyone's gathered around the fire pit outside," he takes a few steps into the guest room where you've been cooped up. However, you turn back to the desk in front of you and continue writing. Aware of your reluctance to look at him, he brings it up.

"Y/n~?" Your brows furrow at his sing-song attitude, relying on annoyance to have you speak with him. "Are you mad at me about something~?" The sigh you let out has to be about the tenth time from this day, shaking your head while sucking your teeth silently. You know what, it's just the two of us in the house...

"Yes, Gojo," your face doesn't leave the diary on the desk, but your hands stop writing. "I am mad at you."

"How come?" He adjusts his dark shades and then jerks at the sudden sound of your pen slamming onto the desk surface. And he's never seen a look that could kill on your pretty face before.

"Why don't you go ask Geto why I'm so mad," your tone isn't entirely furious; if anything, it's calm. But its connotation doesn't go unnoticed by Gojo. "Or better yet, why don't you retell him all about how 'y/n's blowjobs are like this' or how I'm 'so tight it's insane.' Surely that'll refresh some memories, huh?"

The room isn't completely silent, apart from the ticking noises of the clock on the wall by the bed. Gojo stands utterly still — same for you. The only thing that will activate any movement depends on his answer.

"....Ohhh!" He starts off as if a lightbulb just went up. "You mean he told you I told him—"

"Yes." a blunt response stops him from finishing. "I'm not mad about you telling him about what I did on that date. But would it have killed you to use probably another name for me? My friends don't know about you, but imagine my surprise when I found out your best friend's first impression of me is how I bounced on your dick!" It's commendable that he doesn't interrupt you while you speak because you might throw something at him if he did. And you're sure he knows it as well. "Does that give you a better idea as to why I'm mad?"

"Yup, loud and clear..." Now that you two are on the same page, you turn away from him again and return to writing, aware that the tall other is still behind you in the room. Especially when you hear him take a few more steps close to you, it takes everything in your power to not headbutt him when he places his chin on top of your head. This guy and his lack of respect for boundaries...

"Aww, come on, Y/n. I didn't mean to upset you like that." His usually loud voice is hushed for you, as if someone would come up and see the two of you like this. "It's a big surprise for me that I'd ever see you after last time, and I guess I figured I wouldn't. Which is why I told Suguru about you. Sorry about that, honest."

You couldn't focus on writing since he called you by your name, listening to his words and the sincerity they carry. And for a moment, you almost give into his sweet voice. But you held on strong for your dignity. "Apology accepted, but I'm still mad at you."

"Whaaaaat~, what was the point of accepting my apology then!?" You can't lie; it's cute when this tall man complains like a child. His giant hands move to your shoulders, massaging them to ease tension. "I'll make it up to you. You'll be here for a weekend, so let me treat you!"

A brow lifts up to that offer. "Treat me how?"

"I can start by going out there and having a s'more ready for you if you finish up whatever it is you're doing."

Five seconds go by. Ten. You exhale heavily through your nose, but a small smile creeps up on your lips. "Fine."

"Nice!" You roll your eyes when he fist-pumps the air. "By the way, what are you doing?"

Oh shit!! You immediately cover the pages of your diary. "Nothing."

"Is that a diary?" The giddiness in his tone crawls back up, much to your dismay. "Am I in it?"

"No, you're not!" You flip the diary with the pages on the desk surface, hiding the contents entirely. I already wrote about you before, anyway!

"Woah, I saw my name!" You get up from your chair and push Gojo out of the room. "D'aww, Y/n, you're such an angel thinking about me so much that I'm in your diary~."

"Shut up, Gojo! Go make me that s'more already!" You pushed him back out of the room, your face hot from embarrassment. And it gets even hotter when you see the huge grin plastered on his dumb face.

"You know you're cute as hell when you're flustered like this, right, dollface?"

And with that, you slam the door on his face, not caring about the groans of pain that he expresses. Waiting for his footsteps to draw away from the room, you sit back at the desk and groan into your hands for a few seconds. When you feel your composure is confident enough, you grab your pen and finish writing the last statements in your diary.

...Needless to say, being involved with Satoru Gojo undoubtedly has its consequences. I had said I'd love to see him again, but this was not the second meeting that I had in mind...But not gonna lie; it's nice to know that he was thinking about me while I was gone. Can't be mad at that handsome man-child for too long.

As for his friend, he truly is a mysterious person, knowing more about me than I do him. And for him to say that he was interested in me not just by Gojo's account but from seeing and hanging out with me? With what happened a few hours ago...I'll have to keep my guard up with him this weekend.

One thing is for sure, though: this is definitely a beach experience I'll never forget. Oh, Suguru Geto, you made sure of that. And just like your pleasant smile and purple eyes, I'll treasure it deep within my heart.

˚₊‧꒰ა Bonus ☆ Scene!! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The weekend has finally come to an end, the Sunday sun coming down to bid farewell on the beach setting, and you and your friends say goodbye to Shoko and thank her for letting her stay at her beach house along with her friends ("No worries, any friend of Geto and Gojo's is a friend of mine." The older brunette said sipping her juice from a pretty glass. "Stay safe out there.")

The drive home was fun, blasting music from the radio of Nobara's car while feeling the wind from the windows as everyone gets dropped off. The first to go was Megumi, then Yuuji at his grandpa's place. All that was left was you and Nobara, the two of you enjoying the calm drive to your house as the moon watched over your return home.

When she stops at the front of your home, you express your thanks. "Thanks for the ride again, Nobara. Had a great time with you and the guys." But she doesn't respond, just looking at the steering wheel. Concerned, you question her. "Nobara? You okay?"

It's evident the brunette has something parading her thoughts, because she lets out a massive sigh before facing your direction and asks the following question. "Did you go on that blind date with Satoru or Suguru?"

One blink goes by. Two blinks. ".......Huh."

"Don't 'huh' me, Y/n; I know ya heard me!" She smacks the steering wheel in slight exasperation. "Don't make me repeat myself."

You internally groan at the situation you're in. You knew this talk was bound to happen, but God, you just wanted to get in your bed and go to sleep after this very exhausting weekend. Okay, think, Y/n, think!

"...No," you avoid eye contact answering. "No, I did not."

"Are you sure about that?" Of course, the other has more questions. "Because when you told me about your blind date, you said they were tall with their first name starting with an 'S' and their last name a 'G.' And low and behold, we go to the beach, and I'm met with not one, but TWO fairly tall men who both check those boxes. Not to mention that the date was at a diner, and they both just happen to have met you in a diner?"

Oh, for fucks sake, God, please just strike me down right here and now. "What? Am I not supposed to meet people at a diner? Or go on a date in a completely different diner?"

The brown-haired woman furrows her brow before continuing on. "I don't know, you tell me. Those two seemed quite friendly with you all weekend, especially that lanky sheep, Gojo. The way those two looked at you or how oddly close they got. Looks and sounds fishy to me."

You scoff at her observations as they are accurate and are doing a remarkable job of making you nervous right now. "Nobara, many people in this world have those initials. For all you know, I probably went on a date with Selena Gomez or Seth Green. I mean, when you say you're crushing on M.Z., I don't immediately think of Maki Zenin. My mind goes straight to Mark Zuckerberg."

The disgusted look on Nobara's face almost had you laughing on the spot. "Don't play with me, Y/n! And don't you dare disrespect my queen's beauty to the looks of a pale salamander, or I'll smack you. I'm gonna ask again: did you go on a blind date with either of those two?"

"No!" It's amazing how quick you went with a lie. Who could blame you? It was easier than telling the truth, especially with what happened this weekend.

The two of you hold a mini staring competition, Nobara searching for any tale of a lie on your face. But with another sigh, she gives up interrogating and stares at the roof of her car, followed by you leaning back on the passenger seat while your brain does mental gymnastics in victory.

A few seconds of silence goes by before your friend says anything more. "Hmm, that's a bummer." You peer at her with bewilderment painted on your face. "They both looked like they got some good dick."

"Are you fucking serious— You know what, goodnight, Nobara." You don't bother listening to her try to back herself up on her statement, just grabbing for your stuff and closing the passenger door. Ignoring her shouts as you walk to the front door to unlock it and shutting it to finally free yourself from this weekend-long nightmare.

You groan to yourself as you slide down the door. Honestly, fuck this summer...

917 notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 4 months

Text

Let's Get Physical! feat. Marcus Pike & f!Reader

a Marcus Pike one shot | Rated: 18+ | word count: 3,883 warnings: swearing, rougher p in the v unprotected sex, fingering, talk about weight gain, belly appreciation, self esteem issues surrounding weight, reader is assumed to be shorter and lighter than Marcus, reader has long enough hair for Marcus to grip,

A/N: Okay y'all... here's the mam himself! Thank you to @rebel-held for their dedication and holding vigil for his arrival, and for @yahtiwakitakos for their love of Marcus! Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal & @neverwheremoonchild for their eyes & thoughtful insight.

As soon as you’d gotten the desk next to Marcus, he knew you’d be friends. He’d transferred out of being on the field and to the home office in your state after a personal matter had him decide to transfer. Since that point, you’d worked closely together, learning almost everything you could about one another.

You’d taken to him almost immediately, but his kind and aloof manner kept you from pushing further to see if there was something more. You’d eventually fallen into a content and friendly rapport that turned into a work-based friendship.

Marcus learned about your love of reading, allowing you to collect obscure information, and you’d learned that he did not cook, opting for take out at every meal.

You’d even earned nicknames from one another. You called him Pickles after a long-forgotten joke about his last name, and he called you Dex, short for Poindexter, given you aptitude for Trivial Pursuit.

You worked side by side for four years, and in that time, you’d noted that Marcus had gained weight, but it wasn’t that noticeable – it was gradual. His clothing had always fit. He'd never had an ill-fitting suit or a too-tight dress shirt or jacket. Yes, you'd notice his weight fluctuate and increase, but he camouflaged it well with his clothing. Sure, he’d developed a bit of a softer jawline under the scruff on his face - it enhanced his pout with those big brown eyes; and yeah, his middle looked less trim, as did his thighs…

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care – Marcus was your friend.

You repeated those lies every time he’d look up at you and ask if you were ready for lunch or pat your shoulder as he said you’d done a good job. You did notice his waistline increasing and you thought it was sexy and hot, but your own internal battle with self image and weight had tarnished your ability to admit you liked heavier men and watched to help them get heavier.

You so badly wished he was more than a friend. He was kind and sweet, and never swore, even going so far as to tell you to ‘behave’ or ‘watch your mouth’ when you left an f-bomb slip. The way his big brown eyes watched you, you wished they were imagining you naked and crying out for him, and as you’d lose yourself in this fiction, he’d bring you back to earth, asking if you’d read the latest case file.

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care because Marcus was your friend.

*****

“Morning, Dex!”, he called as he meandered to his desk. He had two coffees in his hands from your favourite coffee shop… the one that was out of the way for him to get to on his way to the office… the one he only stopped at when he either needed a favour or had bad news.

You narrowed your eyes at him and motioned to the coffee with a pointed finger. “Stop. What’s that for?”

“Just wanted to get my best girl a coffee. S’that a crime?”, he smiled, trying to force as much innocence from his eyes as possible.

You didn’t move from your position and raised your brow. He sighed and put the coffees on the desk and slumped his shoulders, letting his work satchel drop to the floor.

“I need your help.”

“I knew it.”

“But you can’t laugh.”

His last statement made you freeze. Looking up at him, his face looked slightly pained as his winced, waiting for the sign to continue.

“Out with it, Pickles.”

“They want agents to be in the field. I saw the sign last night as I was leaving, so I looked into it. Don’t get me wrong – love the office but I miss field work.”

He paused, eyes searching your face for approval. You could see the worry on him, the fear of rejection to his idea. You nodded, arms gently moving from their crossed position, and you reached for the cup closest to you on his desk and took a sip. It was good coffee and you hummed in approval.

Marcus let out a breath he more than likely didn’t realize he was holding and continued. “There’s a catch thought – I have to pass a physical.”

You just about spat our coffee out and swallowed it funny, causing you to start coughing. You waved him off, sputtering an ‘I’m okay.’ as you motioned for him to keep talking.

“Yeah… uh – so the physical.”, he said slowly, watching you carefully with a bit of worry. “I have to pass the one I did when I was a rookie… the one we all had to pass. You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again, trying to get the image of Marcus huffing and puffing on a treadmill, sweaty and just a plain mess… the same way you’d imagined he’d be on top of you… rutting and jack hammering you into your mattress…

“Yeah! Just peachy, Pickles!”, you croaked, the rasped out a laugh. “You want to go in the field and leave me behind? Be Mister Bigshot and meet some other prettier coworker to bring coffee?”

You were trying to tease him, but your words and the sharpness of your tongue sounded like they aimed to wound, and it wasn’t lost on Marcus.

“Well, why not come with me? We could be partners.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of travelling with Marcus to different art crime scenes. You’d never been able to shake the stories he told about the weird things he’d investigated in the field. Yeah, there were the big things, but you were more intrigued by the obscure things he’d investigated, like the unnamed famous actor who’s inadvertently bought stolen vintage clown pornography, or the weird old grumpy suburban guy who cluelessly had a priceless - albeit mundane - horse painting hanging in his bedroom, or the time some government worker was caught at the airport with illegally imported erotic art from South America that reeked of cigarettes.

The idea had merit and you nodded, cautiously optimistic.

*****

"Look, I know what I said, but maybe...", Marcus called out from behind the bathroom door. "...maybe I am a little more out of shape than I thought." You stopped your advancement down the hallway and chuckled with a smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"It... it-uh... it fits... different."

You paused and as the cogs in your head turned, trying to decipher what he meant. It hit you and you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face as your smile exploded into a wide-eyed grin.

If what you were thinking was true, the gym clothing that was standard issue for all new FBI trainees - and would be the required outfit for his upcoming physical fitness test - would give you an eye full of how pudgy he'd really gotten. While sitting in your thoughts, your silence made Marcus nervous.

Deciding to just rip the band-aid off, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

Your jaw dropped.

You’d seen the pictures of him during training. The clean-shaven sharp jaw and trim toned body clad in a too big t-shirt and knee length shorts.

That was not who stood before you. His shorts, while tighter, still looked like they fit. But that poor t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad chest and shoulders, and the hem was unable to traverse his ample middle, exposing about an inch above his belly button down to the curve of his underbelly and giving you a full view of his love handles.

His face was flushed, and his eyes pleaded with you. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to hide the fact that your core was clenching on nothing.

“It fits!”, you managed to squeak out and Marcus look at you stupefied and held his hands open to his sides.

“Really?”, he asked in exasperation, raising his eyebrows. “You think this – “, he motioned to his middle. “- qualifies as fitting?”

“I mean, you got it on? That means it sort of fits?” You winced as you spoke, trying to keep a pleasant smile.

“Fuck!”

You jumped as he let out one the loudest ‘fuck’s you’d ever heard, and your eyes grew wide that it was him who yelled it. He threw his hands up in the air and stood with his hands on his hips, knee popped. His jaw tensed as he looked away, stuck in thought, and you took the opportunity to gaze over his body, noting the way his stomach moved with each frustrated breath and the way his shoulders pulled the absolute life out of the shirt’s seams.

You were lost in thought ogling him and didn’t notice that he’d turned his attention back to you. When you finally looked up at him, both feeling your faces heat up slightly and an awkward silence sat heavy between you.

You decided to break the silence first, clearing your throat again. “Pickles, you… you look great.”

Marcus stated to laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“I know I look like a busted overstuffed sausage – “

“Oh, stop it!”, you hushed him, stepping towards him. “Okay, sure, it doesn’t fit quite the same, but nobody stays the same size their whole life.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk and nodded. “Fine.”

*****

So far, all the equipment in his apartment complex’s gym were now Marcus’ sworn enemies. The last three hours had been filled with Marcus angrily sweating and using every curse and swearword under the sun. He was so focused on being angry that he forwent any self consciousness about his clothes not fitting.

After another failed attempt at trying to navigate the elliptical, he yelled “PISSING SHITTING FUCKING COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!!” and stormed out of the gym. You quickly grabbed the things he left in his departure and followed him.

*****

“Fuck it! I’m not fucking doing this!”, he boomed, furiously ripping open his refrigerator and grabbing the carton of chocolate milk and chugged it.

You quietly tried to get him to water to hydrate, and contemplated asking why his swearing sounded so natural when you’d never heard him use anything harsher than ‘fiddlesticks’ prior to this. “Marcus… maybe some water would – “

He finished the chocolate milk then tossed the carton haphazardly into the sink, and his eyes aggressively looked you up and down. You closed your mouth and stood, light a deer in headlights, nervously fidgeting your hands as you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! I know what you’re thinking!”, he barked at you, making you jump. “God dammit! You think I’m too fat and out of fucking shape to pass that physical! And you know what?”, he yelled, grabbing one of the giant pretzels he’d picked up yesterday from the kiosk in the mall. “You’re fucking right!”

He angrily bit into the pretzel and chewed, then huffed and ripped open the fridge again and grabbed a king-size can a beer. You watched, bewildered and bewitched, as he maneuvered between chomps and gulps of the pretzel and beer.

You’d never seen him this enraged and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Sure, you’d seen him get snide or lippy when he was frustrated, but you had no idea he could turn his temper up to eleven and he had such a vast array of foul words in his vocabulary – and find it so hot. You were staring at him, seeing that once he’d finished the pretzel, his hand went to his underbelly, pitching and kneading it slightly as he downed the rest of the beer. Your eyes were then pulled to his crotch in the almost too-small shorts and the noticeable bulge that had developed there.

Your lips parted and your brows tented. Marcus kept his eyes on your face, seeing the reaction you were having to his meltdown. It egged him on, knowing that you were getting something out of this. He’d longed for the chance to get to hold you beyond the occasional side hug or shoulder bump, wanting to touch you and make you feel as beautiful as he saw you. But he’d assumed you were completely fine being friends, given the way his weight had creeped up. He didn’t want to lose you by making a move and wrecking the chance to get the pieces of you that you allowed him to have access to. He’d stayed respectful, and courteous, and friendly, all while desperately wishing he was yours. But all that went out the window the moment he felt rage course through his veins and saw you look at him like that. He wanted you to be his.

He threw the empty beer can aside, hearing its tinny landing by the sink, and stalked towards you. Taken slightly aback at how aggressive his body language was, you stepped back and were stopped by the counter behind you. Marcus crowded you, standing over you, his belly moving against you with every ragged, angry breath.

“Marc – “

His name was cut off in your mouth as his collided with yours. He roughly grabbed your waist with one huge hand while the other held your face. He dominated the kiss, his tongue pushing for entrance again your lips, and you let him in, tasting the hoppy beer and salty yeast of the pretzel. As the passion built between you, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent and urgent. His hands roamed, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. There was no rhythm to this kiss; it was him exploring and dominating and you submitting to him and your desperate needs.

You finally parted, panting and breathless. He looked beautiful; his eyes were dark with blown pupils and his lips were reddened. The hand that had held your waist moved down to the crux of your thighs and pressed against your Athleisure legging-clad core. Your mouth opened and a soft, breathy whine barely sounded out. The fury in his eyes had ebbed and morphed into an aggressive and possessive need, but he watched you, looking for any sign to stop. You gave nothing but green lights.

He leaned his face closer to yours, his nose nudging your cheek. You let out a small whimper and nodded, tilting your head, and he grazed his teeth along your cheek to your jaw, then bit down softly. With his mouth on you, he growled through his teeth, “Mine.”

He pulled back and turned your around, pushing your palms onto the counter, and he stood flush with his front to your back. As he grinded against you and bit and kissed your neck, he pushed your leggings down over your ass with one hand, the other pushed between your legs in the front.

“Oh fuck… you’re soaked, baby…”, he growled, biting the back of your neck. His middle finger ran along your seam, pulling a mewling whine from your mouth.

“You want me? Tell me you want me.”

When you didn’t answer beyond a frantic nod, he said your name in a low snarl and his grip on you tightened. “I asked you a question.”

“Mar-Marcus! Please!”, you cried out, feeling his finger circle then tap your throbbing nub repeatedly. You felt him smile against your neck, his other hand palming and squeezing your tit, and he started fucking into your wet heat with his pointer and index fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous… so funny… so smart… and you’re letting this fat guy finger you in his kitchen…”

His thumb caught your clit in the haste of his hand’s movement, and you let out a surprised yelp and your body jolted. The hand gripping your breast came up your sternum and secured itself around your throat gently, forcing you upright and flush against him.

“Juicy little snatch… just gripping my fingers, baby… you - you gonna cum for me, Dex baby?”

You whined and nodded. His hand moved up and he pushed two fingers into your mouth, exerting the power he had over you. He did it because he could, because you let him. You were both learning more about the other: he wanted to dominate, you wanted to be dominated.

You came as he pressed your tongue down, almost eliciting a gag from you. It felt filthy and raw and everything you’d hoped but never thought Marcus could be.

“There is it… Good girl… You’re mine… I’m gonna fuck that into you.”, he grunted and pulled both sets of fingers from your wet holes, shoving you down flush with the counter.

You’d barely finished cumming, let alone gotten through the aftershocks making your cunt flutter as he shoved his shorts down and lined up his cock with you and pushed in.

“Jesus fuck…”, you groaned. “You’re s’fucking big!”

“You like me big… say it. Say you like me being a fat desk jockey…”

“Yes… god yes…”

“Like seeing me eat, too, huh?... like watching me get fat?”

“Yes! Please… Marcus, please!”

You felt the beginnings of another orgasm as he pounded into you from behind and filled your mind with the images of him stuffing himself stupid on take out at work while you sat on his lap and helped feed him. It was a guilt-filled fantasy that you’d never allowed yourself to fully process and accept until this moment.

Marcus pulled out of you suddenly. Fearing you did something wrong, you made a frantic and breathless ‘huh?’ sound. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum, Dex.”

You couldn’t help but smile; Marcus was ever the romantic.

He tossed you on the bed and crawled up to you, pushing your legs apart. He took a moment to look at your pussy, smirking with a smug head shake, then locked eyes with you. He leaned forward, one hand landing beside your head and his other hand grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him, guiding his cock back into your desperate, wet cunt.

“Look at you… just gorgeous… “, he marveled with smug satisfaction as he pounded into you, watching your eyes close, brows furrow, and lips part to let out a soft pant.

His thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles. “Come on, Dex… gimme one so I can watch… lemme see…”

“Marcus… I’m close…”

“I know, pretty girl… give it to me… come on… gimme one I can see…”

“Yes… right there! Right there!”

His thumb hit just the right angle and you fell apart as he pistoned you on his cock. Your hand reached up, gripping the arm above your head, and you arched your back in pure bliss.

“There it is… there you go… fuck, good girl… look at you… so god dammed pretty…”

The noises you made sounded alien coming from your mouth. You’d never heard this cacophony of whines, cries, mewls and moans come from your body before, and Marcus was revelling in it. He removed his thumb form your oversensitive nub, and he brought him body down onto your as he continued to thrust into you. His weight felt amazing; it was everything and ore than what you could have hoped, and you needed more of it on you. You hooked one leg on his hip, then brought the other one up, trying to lock your ankles. Marcus was too big, his love handled waist too wide and his thrusts now to frantic to get a good latch.

You raised your head and captured his mouth in a messy kiss, and he interlocked his fingers into yours. He panted into your mouth as you made eye contact; gone was the ferocious and angry man who’d fucked you in his kitchen and back was Marcus: sweet, funny, soft Marcus.

“Come on, Pickles.”, you whispered against his lips with a wry grin.

The surrendering groan that tumbled out of him matched perfectly with his out of rhythm thrusts.

“You gonna let me cum in you? Please?”, he panted, hips stuttering.

Nodding, you desperately whined, “Yeah… yes, please… please… c-cum in me!”

Marcus dropped his forehead onto yours. With a few more snaps of his hips with corresponding grunts, he let out a string of groans and panting breaths, then stilled in you.

You were both breathing hard, and his fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in yours as he came down from his high. Your mouth found his again briefly, then he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His brows furrowed and his eyes softened further, as if the weight of what had just happened suddenly dawned on him and he was worried this was it for the two of you.

“Hey… hey hey hey…”, you soothed, hand coming up to cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face. “It’s okay… I’m okay.”

He nodded, still unsure, the blurted out, “I like you so much, Dex. I wanted this for so long…and I wanted it to be special, and – “

“It was special!”, you beamed with a smile, loving how adorably flustered he looked in contrast to before. “You hulked out and railed me in your kitchen!”

He stopped and looked at you, dumbfounded. Slowly, a smile peaked out on one side of his mouth. “You liked that.”, he huffed out in a laugh. “Dex, you kinky girl!”

You laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Knock it off, Pickles!”

He pulled his softening cock from you and kissed you, both of you giggling.

Marcus pulled away and teased, “You liked getting railed by a fat guy… in the kitchen…”

“Yeah, I did!”, you challenged with a smile. “And I hope that fat guy does it again!”

His breath hitched and he swallowed, looking away for a moment. “So, you’re okay with…?”

He couldn’t finish saying what he wanted to. Years of poor self esteem and heart-breaking moments with other women wouldn’t let him, nor did that part of him want to hear your answer in case it was rejection. Your hand guided his face back to you.

“I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t.

His smile softened. “How about a date first?”

You couldn’t help the heat and shy smile that bloomed on your face, and he watched as you melted into his words.

*****

Marcus walked into the office the next Monday, carrying another two coffees from your favourite place. You were preoccupied with one of your coworkers but shit him a smile before returning your attention to the file before you.

He placed the coffees down, hung his coat and bag, then noticed the collection of tupperwear containers with a sticky note on them.

Getting takeout is fine, but this is a sampling of what I can do for you. Xoxo Dex.

He opened a few of the containers and in them were homemade versions of his absolute favourite take out meals. He brought one to his nose and inhaled, just as your coworker left the room. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, patting and squeezing his belly.

Marcus deciding he wasn’t ever going to need to pass a physical again.

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shinjisdone · 8 months

Text

Two Humans in the Demon Realm - Fantasy And Nightmare

What if by the time Luz Noceda the human emerged into the demon realm...some other human did, too? However, instead of being joyful of being surrounded by all they love and taken in by a kind and openhearted witch...they are terrified of this place, taken in by the ruler of the realm?

[Basically I watched TOH again and dammit HUNTER SHALL HAVE A FRIEND I SAY NOT UNTIL S2 but NOW I SAY NOW]

BECOMING THE GOLDEN GUARD'S/HUNTER'S HUMAN FRIEND BECAUSE I SAID SO

The ground was red.

You swore you heard something akin to a growl from the plants.

The sea seems to be boiling and there is no way out, no matter how much you twist and turn.

There is no escape.

And as your fears turn into reality as raindrops hit your skin and burn your flesh away as you read in the book back home, you run and cry.

This is a nightmare.

This isn't earth. Nowhere this place could be, could be earth!

And if what that book said was true...

There are no humans but just one. From decades ago.

Perhaps you heard of the demon realm - through stories, gossip, theories, relatives that are aware of magic and witchcraft.

Maybe you believed in it, or maybe you thought it'd be humbug. The few magical instances in your life you witnessed - those were just show, right? A trick of the mind?

Or real magic after all.

But it did not matter. The moment you opened your eyes, you were stuck here.

On a rotting, red, boiling island that seemed far, far too familiar in that book you've read. Either out of interest or boredom. Maybe someone wanted to prove it to be real or you wanted to know if it was really fake.

Yet here you are and the smell, touch, sight and taste you sense were accurate to that stupid book.

And if that were the case, then certainly the rest of demons, magic and curses was real, too.

Being all alone in a strange place, stuck in it, is definitely going to be hard for you. No friends, allies or family around with only this stupid, stupid book in your hands that got you trapped here in the first place. As much as you hated it, it did give insight of the many qualities of the isles and therefore saving your skin a dozen times.

"The rain seems to be toxic. I have seen none indulge in its coolness but rather, hide from it. Witch and demon alike."

"The ground is very...solid. Almost bone-like...I do fear the entire island may be nothing but a macabre graveyard."

"I was not quite welcome here...nothing and no one hunted me down but I presume if my curiousity pushes for it, they will begin to."

The impressed yet depressing writing of the author did not help but they always managed to decribe things objectively with great detail that saved you again and again. Especially the pages including magic spells.

The many complicated and confusing glyphs written in it daunted you at first. Magic, you believe, is what got you in this mess in the first place but after careful thinking, procrastination, blocking it all out and finding yourself in a situation that forced you to cast magic - such one that could cost you your life - you've grown to be a bit more accepting of the concept of these...glyphs. Little by little, though.

So after some time, you finally, finally gained enough courage to...enter their society.

The market seemed to be fine for now. Hiding your ears behind a cape and hood YOU HAD TO MAKE YOURSELF USING THIS STUPID BOOK (which actually turned out quite impressive even when you did have to use magic) you entered. Turning into the wrong directions though you ended up in a even sketchier part of the night market.

The constant bellowing of...demons wanting to sell you things was familiar enough from earth (even when their...four eyes and gills decorated from their chin down to their chest where you can...see their heart beating...was a not so familiar sight) but the constant showing off of magic was not. You did not know everything and this (stupid) book did not detail everything either so you did your best to avoid anything magical. Which was harder than imagined considering this is a market for amplifiers and potions and whatnot.

Avoiding it all let you to an dead end of an alley...and right in the middle of a criminal act!

'Wild witches' as they were called and a red light engulfed all of you quickly from above. Figures clad in dark and masks that you recognized as that of guards of this realm appeared, those that you often had to run away from as well. Desperately tugging the book under your cloak you hoped you could use th scuffle to get out of there as fast and quietly as possible. These 'wild witches' and guards could thrash each other as much as they like, you won't stop them!

Yet from above, a cold gale with a flash of gold swept up from behind you, shoving a staff into your face.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid now if I were you."

Damnit!

Fine, the potion you begrudgingly needed three days to make had to come in handy now!

Whisking a flask to the ground, you made a run for it. You could hear coughing and cursing as the vapor ingulfed them, followed soon by another echoing sound before the same golden mask appeared in front of you again.

In a mere blink of an eye, they swung their staff and a biting wind knocked you to the ground. You quickly clung onto your book as the guard rose their staff above their head.

"One more of that trick and you're ash." They lowly let out, "Can't believe there are still wannabees out there that-"

They halt and you freeze, a shiver running up your spine. Even when all they did was stand still as a statue, the very fact that they were clad and gold and white with real, heavy armor and with a staff compared to the local guards around the isles was enough to leave you frightened.

This one means business. It must be.

But what are they? Nowhere are these people ever talked about in the book!

"...Human..."

You jerked up. Even their whispers were threatening.

Slowly but surely, the guard lowered their weapon. Though their face remained hidden by the mask resembling an owl, there was just a feeling, and underlying but undeniable feeling that made your stomach churn that whatever expression they might be having, their intentions are not in your interest.

"You're a human."

Your breath hitches. The cloak had fallen off from their spell, leaving it damp and abandoned further down in the alley. You didn't this would happen, you followed the instructions bit by bit. It felt like time stood still as the person before you hummed.

Finally, they raised their head again. "...You don't want trouble. Surely you don't?"

You shook your head.

"Then you're lucky you ran into me. Either you come with me or its the Conformatorium for you." They pointed the glowing tip of their weapon at you before playfully swinging it around, "And then, you know, zapped to dust, thrown into the sea to boil alive or petrified - there isn't much use for humans here."

Finally, you manage to speak. "You're not serious, are you?"

They sigh and motion for you to get up, doing so more threateningly when you did not obey the first time. "I'm not known for playing around." The red glow of the staff zapped towards your body, slung around your wrists like a snake before they jabbed you to keep walking out of the night market. "The Golden Guard can't afford to play around."

The next events were something you could only describe as hectic. Put on some kind of zeppelin (though it looked like a ship with wings) with magical...ropes(?) on you and head off to somewhere. Somewhere this guy claimed to be better than the 'Conformatorium'.

You had asked him what the point of taking you was but he was a bit too nonchalant for your taste.

"Oh, you'll see", He let out, "The Conformatorium is for witches and demons useless for the covens. But lucky for you, you might end up being useful, human."

It's all he said as he turned his back to you, controlling the ship with an carefree tune.

"I have a name, you know."

You spat out, couldn't take his attitude anymore. What is wrong with people in this realm?

The Golden Guard halted for a moment, stopping his melody abruptly. He waved his hand. "And?"

In turn, you scoffed out your name and telling him he might as well use it instead.

"What, does everyone also go around avoiding your name and calling you 'Golden Guard' instead or whatever?"

Once again he halted, longer than you anticipated. It was one request, a mere question but it left this guard guy guessing. He tilted his head absent-mindedly. You wondered what he'd need to ponder about for so long.

"...I do my job well," He started softly, "Well enough to be the only one worthy to be called the Golden Guard."

The trip was short and you did not know what to think of it. Glad to not bear this guy's attitude any longer or fearing for your life as a mere human in a place full of witches.

And covens? Use? Use for what? What is this...giant building, seeming more grande than anything else you've seen on the isles?

The rest followed by command. The Golden Guard shooed you to an different entrance than what you assumed tha main one was. The staff pressed against your back as you had no choice but to obey. With what could you defend yourself anyhow? An ancient book and bound hands?

The interior was akin to a palace of the medieval times, you noted. Individuals masked and clad in similiar white and gold worked routinely like soldiers in the hallways though your Golden Guard guy made sure nobody saw you. None of this was written in the book and though you have heard a few mumble in fear of the 'Emperor's Coven' you thought none of it. As long as you stayed away from it, you'd be safe. Yet here you were.

With a jab to the back, your oh so sweet companion ushered you up hidden stairs. Once entered the door behind you closed shut (with magic. Of course. Even in movies you never liked it when doors unexplainedly closed) and you went up ahead. The guard seemed to speed up more and more - along with getting ever so closer to a bright light ahead, you grew more anxious. This was it, wasn't it? You were going to die.

This would be your end, thrown into an hellscape away from family and friends. Treated like something worse than trash before your inevitable death.

Your companion rushed ahead of you, stepping into the room and immediately kneeling down. He moved his staff, causing you to tumble next to him, the magic ropes around your wrists tightening. "My Emperor," He let out in the most reverant voice you've heard him speak, "I apololgize for the sudden intervention but I have found something that might be of great interest to you regarding...the plan."

Looking up the dimly lit room, following the golden floor and walls, clad in immaculate red carpets and a set of stairs lied a throne. Tall and towering and on it, a man even more frightening.

He leaned his masked head against his armored hand, comfortably sitting on gold. His pale blue eyes glowed like that of a predator, you swore it at first sight.

"Your little friend will help accomplish our plan?"

"It is not anyone, sir." The Golden Guard pushed you forward and exposed your ears, "It is a human."

The exchange was scarier than anything else you'd seen on the isles.

The man on the throne was as swift as the wind as he stood up and approached you. He'd examine you, ask you question on who and what you are.

"Where do you come from, child, and when was that?"

He'd tilt his head and hum at your answers but did not make it known that he noticed your shaking and stuttering. However, his eyes lit up even more when he saw that book tightly hidden in your bag.

"Oh? What's this now?" With a flick of his finger, the book floated up to his eye level, pages after pages turned as he read them ever so quietly.

He'd definitely would ask you from where you got this book.

In the end it did not matter. Found it at a library, abandoned at a bus stop, given by clerk or friend. However, the man would raise a brow if you said that this book had been in your family for years.

Only if that were the case, though.

"Interesting. Well, welcome to the Emperor's Castle. Do make yourself at home."

...Wh-what?

The Golden Guard was just as confused as you. Stammering, he got up. "U- Emperor, what, here? Wh-what do you mean 'make yourself at home'?"

"It is what I said. Have you never had any guests, Golden Guard? You don't keep them prisoner," The man lifted his hand and the ropes around you vanished, "and you certainly take care of them. Like preparing a room for example." He put his arms behind his back, staring down at the younger man expectantly. He in turn, bowed and helped you up.

The...king of this castle you presumed, waved you goodbye. "We'll see what we can do for now. I'll gladly keep you here in my castle, safe and sound from the wilderness outside as long you can help me, little human."

Your companion excused the both of you and hurried you out of the throne room. Discreetly leading you inside an unused room, he shut the door.

"You're really lucky." He sighed, "...Anyone else wouldn't get...this treatment."

He sounded surprised and slightly melancholic but you didn't care - instead you can bombard him with any questions you like but he won't answer. Instead he shook his head and rose his open palm. "Listen, human. We're going to see how much of use you're going to be to the Emperor. But right here and now, the two of us are going to make some rules that he doesn't need to know of."

You can complain as much as you like but here you are in no position to refuse.

The Golden Guard listed each rule he abided to you.

'Do not leave the the castle, let alone the room. No one but him and the Emperor can know of your existence.'

'Tell each and every little secret you have to him first.'

'Don't cause trouble. He can get permission to stop treating you like a guest if you do'.

And lastly: 'Obey the Emperor.'

Your expression sours. This isn't what you wanted.

None of this was supposed to happen.

"Well, you'll get by. After all, as long as the Emperor allows it, you'll be kept safe. It's, ugh, my duty now too, to protect you. But be sure to stay in line because I can easily withdraw that priviledge."

Here you were. In this room.

It did have a bed, closet and desk with a chair. Much better than taking shelter in the rain under a firm bone or illegally breaking into someone's basement or shed. However, it was much more barren than any shed you broke into.

The Golden Guard would come in two to three times a day (WITHOUT KNOCKING) and bring you food and water. Either sternly ordering you around or playfully degrading you with a tap on the head with his staff. "Don't worry, the food is digestible for your human organs!" His enthusiasm didn't make the food taste any better though.

Aside from this, he'd ask you questions which you could only refuse or answer vaguely. He'd remind you of the safety the Emperor is providing you...but you can't admit that this 'Emperor' man felt sketchy to you. The book you always had with you was something you kept only for your eyes to see. It was your key in getting out of the demon realm and not matter what, you swore to yourself you wouldn't give it away or lose sight of it.

However, one day you had a request of your own.

"You remember our rules, don't you, human? No leaving this room."

"You can't expect to keep me here - thats keeping me prisoner, not as a guest!"

"I can tell you all about the great Emperor's Coven here. Besides, the Emperor plans to have a talk with you again."

You sigh. What's the point of escaping the room and getting lost in this giant castle right after? As well as risking being kicked out into the deadly outside of the isles?

But staying here would make you mad. Stuck in a system that you know nothing about...and you're supposed to just obey and take it?

"Can't you at least...show me around? I'd leave the room, yes, but you'd be with me. We wouldn't leave the castle and you can just keep an eye on me if you must. It's just...tiring to be here and not know what the rest of everything looks like." You looked out the window you were prohibited from opening. At least light went through, something akin to what you could deem a sun. "I still don't like this realm...but knowing nothing of it doesn't put me at ease even when I'm safe here."

Looking back you reckoned the Golden Guard was pondering about your request even behind the mask. You couldn't believe you were about to beg.

"Please, Golden Guard?"

Something about that look on your face felt too familiar.

With a heavy sigh he looks away - yet quickly regained his usual vigor. "Well, it would be a shame to be stuck in the great Emperor's Castle with the Golden Guard as your host and not see any of it."

He waved you over his shoulder to follow before swiftly spinning around with a stern voice. "But don't stray out of my sight. Disobey once and you're back in your room, human."

Hoooh boy, it worked.

Although a cloak and a mask was shoved into your hands, you gladly wore it if it meant getting out of the barren, same old room. As he said, the Golden Guard did not let you out of his sight but did insist on leading you. After all, you are pretending to be a newbie covenmember and the Golden Guard can't be seen walking side-by-side with someone beneath his status, hah!

He blabbered on and on about the many sights and objects you face with every turn of the hallways, some more interesting than the other. Your guard however, explained in great detail and with much vigor himself. "To the right we have the Healing Hat and if our guest were to turn to the left, they can admire the Oracle Sphere..."

He continued on with great detail as he waved his hand around as if that information was swimming carefreely in his brain. "Uhm, Golden Guard?" "Yes, newbie?" You ignored the sarcasm, "You witches can do magic because of that heart-addition-gall-thing-" "A sac connected to the heart filled with magical bile, which you lack." "Right. Then why do you need these magical items?"

He sighed. "They can be seen as amplifiers. They're made out of ingredients from the isles which can exceed magical abilities far greater than of any witch, besides Emperor Belos of course. It's easier than to train forever in a coven, so a short cut in a way." He shrugged.

You pondered about his answer, pursing your lips as you somewhat hesitated to ask again.

"...What are covens?"

In an blink of an eye the Golden Guard spun around and you could just imagine his dropped jaw. He let out something of a chortle. "Are you serious? You don't know anything of the Boiling Isles, do you, human?"

You sure were sick of his insults.

"If you were thrown into my realm, you wouldn't know a thing about my home either, would you, witch?"

Taking a step back, your companion hummed. "Hmph, fine. Then I'd better teach you about things here you should and shouldn't do before you get yourself killed. Can't afford to have you walk off and do something stupid, that'd be getting in the way of the plan...so follow my lead, human! I can show you the ropes."

So here you were, taking a longer patroul than planned as your teacher told you all there was to know - which was already a flood of information to take in and remember and you only started with the Emperor's Coven.

As witty his remarks were and how much he loved to throw them at you, the Golden Guard was truly a great teacher. He had a way to inprint each little trivia into your brain and even when you struggled to understand something, he managed to teach it to you in a way that you could grasp. The guy was quite knowledgable himself and it seemed his thirst for magical knowledge couldn't be easily quenched. He had an high opinion on both the Emperor's Coven and magic itself.

At the end of each day you made sure to write each new knowledge down in your book. It brings a smile on your face to see the book continued on from the detailed drawings and pretty, cursive writing to your little doodles and quick notes. It weirdly felt like being back in school and studying and while the change of environment and subjects weredaunting, the familiar routine brought you a bit of comfort.

The instances that brought no comfort were the 'meetings' with the 'king man'.

The Golden Guard drilled it into your head that he shall be adressed as 'Emperor Belos' yet no title could cease his suspicious aura. The man in question never seemed to take offense however.

He began with easy questions. Name, age, where you're from specifically and your time here in the demon realm. Often he found interest in your book but you hesitated to share its contents. The ruler always backed off when you refused.

It was also always very strange when the powerful witch emperor used your name and the Golden Guard didn't.

"Thanks for your time. It's always interesting to hear your perspective from your realm and how you perceive ours. You're really lucky you ended up here in my castle."

Belos also always reminded you of how safe you are in his domain.

If you show any disdain for the demon realm he surprisingly understands. A poor human like you couldn't survive out there for any longer...he can imagine the struggle.

He'd also be interested how far the human realm is on it's moderness. Is it the same as in the demon realm?

His number one question is how you got here in the first place though. You genuinely do not know nor remember but you do keep the secret that it had something to do with the book. Even when you did not know how.

Nevertheless, no matter how much Belos tries to win your favor and trust to look into the book and how you got here, you cannot bring yourself to trust him. The mannerism, the way he talks and walks and knowing he is an emperor just did not sit right with you.

It was never pleasant to meet with him even when he pretends it is.

So the routine stayed the same for a while until something happened.

How it happened is up to you. You snuck onto the airship to finally get out of that castle, the book or some magical item led you to it, you needed to see the Golden Guard for whatever reason or you accidentally got on it. The how doesn't matter, the fact that you are here is what would drive Belos' right-hand man mad.

"What- are you doing here?!" He squeaks out but no explanation would actually calm him. This is an mission he's on and no matter what he cannot let Belos' guest get involved in it! Think about the danger! "Oh, no, no, this isn't good. I already wasn't supposed to show you around the castle but this - this is inexcusable! No, I can't...you aren't supposed to be here, human!"

You back off. This is the first time you've seen the Golden Guard so...anxious.

As quick as it came however, he was able to shake it off and put on the mask again.

"No, it's fine. I can fix this before it even becomes a problem. But you, "He grabs your wrist, "You're staying by my side, got it?"

The outside was dangerous.

You landed in a part of the isles that was unfamilair to you. A few plants and forages were drawn in the book but that was all there was to it. Trotting after him, danger was quick to follow. It took him first and with the book always on your person, you swiftly drew a glyph in the ground. Creating a few more and dragging the guard back to the ship, he panted out his panic. And what you actually did.

"That...that was magic. I think. Picto - Picture - I don't know that part is hard to distinguish in the book." "That...that was kinda amazing...how did you-!"

Another wave of danger came and you drew another glyph onto ground. The guard steered the damaged ship to safety while you threw every trick you had up your sleeve. Finally arriving close to the castle in safety, your companion caught his breath and approached you.

"How...how did you do that? I thought humans can't put any spells on anything! I've never seen magic casted like that before!"

You can't help but smile slightly, seeing him genuinely flustered. Seems like he wasn't really this all-knowing teacher.

"I just copied what was in the book...it's easier than you think." Yet at that moment, your heart dropped. Someone as inquisitive as the Golden Guard who is still your captor even if he doesn't see himself in that way, would then want nothing more than to look into your book. You caught him reaching out for it before he stopped.

"Wait...those were various magic spells used from all kinds of covens...wild magic. You can't use that." You raised a brow and pressed the book further into you and away from him. "Why not? It's just usual magic, isn't it?" "You don't understand," He sounded serious despite being roughed up, "Of course you human wouldn't understand. You could get hurt if you aren't careful. Wild magic can..."

Retracting his hand, a sigh escaped him and he halted for a few moments. You weren't sure what he'd do next.

"...I am not giving you the book."

"You should! In fact, you gotta if you don't want to end up hurt!"

"These spells saved us! I saved you!"

Your glare soured again into a small frown. You took a step back and looked up at him, lips pressed into a thin line. You didn't really wanted to have him as an enemy.

You didn't want anyone to be an enemy. You didn't want to be here.

"I'm not fond of this magic either, Golden Guard, but I've got to use them. If I don't, I won't survive. If I didn't use this book back when I first got here and just now, I wouldn't have survived this place at all."

The guy was unusually silent. Only the flat breaths hitting his mask filling the silence.

Finally, he spoke up just as soft as you.

"...Why did you save me anyway?"

You rose a brow. You could understand where he came from with that question...but it still came out of nowhere. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you have no reason to. I...I am your host and you are welcome in the castle but you...you still didn't have a reason..." He trailed off for a second before starting again, "You could have steered the ship and got yourself back to safety. You could've left me behind."

Again, you only looked at him puzzled. "...Why would I?"

You stared at each other in silence.

- Before you broke it with nervous laughter. "I don't know how it is with you but from where I come from we...don't usually do that. You needed help and I could help you with these glyphs," You pointed at the book, "So, I helped you. I...couldn't just abandon you, Golden Guard."

The second wave of silence that ensued truly made your nervousness rocket.

A breath was taken, as if he had held it the entire time he was staring at you, and with it let out mumbles under his breath. "That's...so weird." With an unsure gait he passed by you, grabbed your wrist and lead the both of you to the castle.

Without looking back he adressed you with his usual stern voice. "I will not be confiscating the book. But I want to know what other forms of wild magic you can do...for research and safety. I won't tell Emperor Belos anything of what happened today."

The days grew less mundane at least, beside the one misadventure.

The Golden Guard visited you more often with more interesting intentions. You shared with what you were comfortable with and though it did annoy him at times, he found this new information more than helpful. You discussed many variants of magic and his excitment of the topic was quite infectious (but you'd never tell him that). In turn, he showed more around the castle and introduced you to many things but would not take you with him outside the castle barriers.

He still did not thank you for saving his life. It seemed he did not know how.

But you've come to grown to his company and vice versa.

#the owl house #the owl house hunter #the owl house x reader #toh #toh hunter #x reader #platonic relationships #hunter the golden guard #the golden guard #toh hunter x reader #but its kinda more platonic #i just need him a friend #YOU #YOU WILL BE HIS FRIEND #ACCEPT YOUR FATE HUMAN #the golden guard x reader

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anneapocalypse · 1 year

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On Cullen's Earnestness

In my current playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition, this one early war table quest caught my eye that I think offers a good bit of insight into Cullen’s character.

In “Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court,” Vivienne alerts Josephine to a letter she’s received from an acquaintance, purporting to “warn” Vivienne of the suspect company she has taken up in joining the Inquisition. The letter reads thus:

My dearest Vivienne,

You cannot have heard the shocking allegations against the Inquisition, or surely you would never have been seen with them. Allow me, as a friend, to open your eyes. People are saying that Divine Justinia is, indeed, alive, but that the Inquisition—her closest advisors and most trusted servants—have orchestrated all this chaos on her orders. That it was Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale who sabotaged the Conclave in order to eliminate the opposition within the Chantry, and cut off the heads of the mage rebellion and templars in a single stroke. To save your own reputation, you must escape this acquaintance immediately.

With deepest concern, Vicomtesse Elodie de Morreau

In the context of the Game, we may understand that this Vicomtesse, while she may call Vivienne a friend, likely has no great concern for her reputation.

The Inquisition is the horse on which Vivienne is betting in order to better her own position (which is considerably shakier than she lets on, but that’s another post); Vicomtesse Elodie is simply making a different bet. If Vivienne heeds her warnings, and the Inquisition never achieves public favor, then Elodie’s advice was correct and Vivienne is indebted to her. If Vivienne heeds her warnings and the Inquisition does gain public acclaim, then Elodie has disrupted Vivienne’s opportunity for advancement, and she also wins. And if Vivienne does not heed her advice and the Inquisition remains a pariah, Elodie gets to watch Vivienne go down with it, smugly saying “I told you so.” Only if the Inquisition thrives and Vivienne with it does Elodie lose this bet—and Vivienne is clearly interested in seeing that outcome, and helping it come about.

The important thing is that the specifics of the accusations against the Inquisition are absolutely irrelevant here. This conspiracy theory about Justinia being secretly alive and the Left and Right Hand doing a sabotage to secure Chantry power—it’s all nonsense, and I doubt the Vicomtesse truly believes it. More critically, she likely does not care whether it is true. Repeating this rumor is just a means to a desired outcome.

If you’ve ever argued with a conspiracy theorist who seemed to simply change their position every time you backed them into a rhetorical corner, you may have realized that facts are largely ineffective at combating this sort of thing.

And of the three advisors, Cullen is the only one to get hung up on the content of the rumor, rather than its source and its purpose. Josephine and Leliana, seasoned players of the Game, both recognize this stupid rumor for what it is. Both of them ignore the substance of it and instead focus on its purpose: turning public opinion against the Inquisition. Josephine proposes to combat it by seeking noble favor elsewhere and leaving it to those allies to do the work of actually arguing against the rumors. Leliana is more interested in finding out with whom the rumor originated.

Leliana also makes the particularly savvy observation that if they were to combat the rumor by attempting to prove Justinia’s death, they would simply be providing their opponents more ammunition to use against them later. Leliana recognizes that “The Divine is alive, and you’re hiding her!” isn’t an earnest accusation, it’s bait. And if you take the bait, if you say, “Actually the Divine did die; here’s her remains to prove it,” then your enemies can say, “Aha! And how do you know she’s dead? It’s because you people killed her!” Or, best case scenario is they just bait you into wasting a lot of your time proving the accusation false, which is exactly what happens if you let Cullen take the bait.

Again, you might have had a similar experience if you’ve ever tried to “debate” a person whose strategy is making outrageous claims, letting you waste a lot of time earnestly debunking them, and then ignoring all your arguments and simply making another, equally outrageous claim.

In Cullen’s case, what happens is poor Knight-Captain Rylen is tasked with leading a field trip of Orlesian nobles through the grisly ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, while asking them to please not touch the red lyrium, and no, you cannot take a charred corpse home as a souvenir, please milord I must ask you not to touch the red lyrium. I’m sure that was an excellent use of everyone’s time and resources.

But it’s easy to understand why Cullen responds this way! It’s a very instinctual and human response! “Well, you’ve just said a thing that is very obviously untrue. I’ll prove to you that it’s untrue! And this will solve the problem of you being wrong, and then we can all move forward together. Right?”

It’s an eminently reasonable response, so long as you assume that the other party is being reasonable and engaging with you in good faith.

Cullen assumes they are. Josephine and Leliana know they’re not. (Vivienne also knew this; hence her handing the letter over to Josephine to deal with instead of bothering to reply herself.)

And you can probably see how Cullen’s earnestness, his desire to believe that other people are also operating earnestly and in good faith, could lead him down some dangerous paths.

Knight-Commander Meredith was also a conspiracy theorist. The difference is that her conspiracy theories were about people she had near-absolute power over, with terrible consequences. And working under the authority of someone he wanted to believe in, someone he absolutely would have taken as entirely earnest (because in many ways she was earnest, at least in her belief that magic was dangerous and must be controlled), it would have been easy for Cullen to assume she must be acting in good faith, even when his misgivings arose. “She needs a spine of iron to survive her position,” he says to Hawke. And like anyone arguing in bad faith, Meredith could move the goalposts when it suited her. No signs of blood magic discovered? That only proves how well they’re hiding it. The tower must be searched top to bottom. The First Enchanter objects? He must be one of them. Dissent among her own templar ranks? Must be the blood magic controlling their minds. As Dan Olson puts it in his video In Search of a Flat Earth, conspiracy theories make facts subservient to outcomes, which is why the "facts" can easily be rearranged and discarded at will—all that matters is the actions those facts justify.

Of course Meredith’s beliefs were, again, quite different—more dangerous, and far more earnestly held than this silly Orlesian rumor about the Inquisition. She was also under the influence of red lyrium at the height of her paranoia. But conspiracy theories often feed on paranoia, and Meredith’s beliefs were still ultimately beliefs that could be bent to justify the outcome she (and her superior, Grand Cleric Elthina) desired: mages must be controlled, whatever the cost.

Cullen has managed to extricate himself from Meredith’s mindset. But he hasn’t yet learned, I think, that conspiracy theories and irrational beliefs can’t be overcome simply by reason. That’s also very understandable for someone in his position. When you’re in the process of overcoming some very wrong beliefs yourself, things you earnestly believed, it’s very natural to want to believe that everyone else is just as earnest and can be persuaded; in fact, you have a personal stake in believing that, because if other people can be redeemed, that means there’s hope for you.

Do I think this justifies the things Cullen was complicit in during his time as a templar, or any misguided opinions he may voice during his time with the Inquisition? No, that’s not why I’m saying all this. But I think it’s an interesting aspect of his character and one worth exploring. Cullen is often characterized as the blunt instrument advisor, his answer to most war table questions being “send troops”; in Josie’s words “the hammer for whom every problem looks like a nail.” But I think some of his offered solutions do offer compelling insights into his character, and this one certainly does—as well as an interesting example of how this approach to the world and other people can go wrong.

#cullen rutherford #dragon age inquisition #dragon age meta #blunders of thedas #leliana #josephine montilyet

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frozenjokes · 6 months

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Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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nightcolorz · 1 year

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Unhinged Sybelle and Benji tangent (cw references to abuse csa trauma etc)

yeah so Marius’s turning of Benji and Sybelle isn’t about whether or not that was the right decision to make and isn’t made better by their contentment living as vampires in late canon. Benji and Sybelle’s relatively happy lives as vampires are irrelevant to me. The cruelty of how he did it is made worse by the hypocritical nature of turning a kid into a vampire after so firmly insisting that turning children is morally abhorrent and smth he should’ve never done, yeah, but that’s only a small part of it.

It was so awful and upsetting to me bcus of the deliberate stripping of Armand’s agency. See, we have a whole book where Armand tells the story of how throughout his entire life and childhood he was forced into the role of submissiveness and/or dependency. whether that be his childhood religious devotion that would eventually lead to his being buried alive for God or being sold into sexual slavery or Marius’s mentorship of him that ultimately intended to teach him to stay loyal and dependent on Marius’s authority to Marius’s relationship with him sexual and otherwise to the cult indoctrination, up until Lestat comes along and tilts his own view of submission and devotion as his only way to survive and function in the world onto its head.

He gives him a theater and then he gives him Louis. Armand floats around, tries to find purpose without devotion through using Louis and Daniel as tools to understanding the modern age. The modern age to Armand is possibility and independence, things he’s never had so much access to and doesn’t know exactly how to apply to himself until the devils minion chapter when he’s like ah ok I get it, life without devotion is something I’ve always been familiar with—it’s what Marius taught me! I Am The Master now with my excessive indulgence and my Boy and my sea side paradise.

But Armand is a Void™️ with no concept of self besides a collection of concepts and experiences and people he’s been exposed to throughout his existence, so rlly he’s kind of a fraud. Internally he’s still a saint who yearns for a God to follow, he’s no Marius, and this all comes to a head in Memnoch the devil when he throws himself into the sun for Jesus etc. and so TVA Armand is mixed the fuck up, he’s lost everything he’s been building for himself, he’s like an open wound, like red and gold sand art shaken around until it’s sludges of brown.

Armand believes himself to have no coherent narrative of a life, no coherent and consistent sense of self, just a collection of unrelated sequences that he draws from to occasionally preform personhood, and at the beginning of TVA he is very much just that. No thoughts only colors and pain. But he’s trying to rebuild himself as best he can, he has these young humans who he’s caring for, and through caring Armand finds meaning.

These humans are very much reflections of himself, or who he used to be, and seeing a personhood reflected back at him through these two gives him insight into his own value as an individual, as someone who is inherently worthy of having a life. So with Benji and Sybelle he tries to rebuild his own sense of personhood by giving them what he would want in there place. The conclusion he reaches at the end of his story to David is that after everything ultimately he is learning and rebuilding, gaining fulfillment and individuality he’s never had before through his empathy and care for these two people in his life. Benji and Sybelle are representative of Armand’s healing process!!! They mirror him bcus they are him!! He’s literally nurturing his inner child!! And with that there comes self care and self love etc etc. but then the book doesn’t end!!

Then after all that trauma and all that healing everything that Armand was tenderly attempting to build for his new life is stripped away ! When Marius turns Benji and Sybelle it doesn’t matttttter that they like being vampires. What matters is that when Armand finally gained agency and individuality Marius decided to take that from him! Marius decided that he actually knew better then Armand, and if Armand would just allow him to do what’s best for him then everything would be so much better and so much easier. And when Armand starts sobbing and screaming and fighting him that’s just justification to Marius that Armand isn’t capable of independence or self sufficiency, that he’s a child throwing a tantrum who can’t make his own decisions, that he should just be dependent on Marius like he used to be and trust that other people know what’s best for him.

That’s why it’s so tragic! That’s why it’s so frustrating and so sad. Armand was on the road to healing but then Marius stormed in like the symbolic representation of his past telling him that no matter what he does or the progress he makes he’s still Armand in the catacombs, Amadeo on the red sheets, Andrei waiting to be buried alive. So I don’t really give af if ultimately Benji and Sybelle are fine! It’s great that despite being a child vampire Benji is able to function independently and contently as an adult with minimal body dysmorphia and existential dread, but you know who’s not able to do that? Armand 😭😭

#tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #interview with the vampire #iwtv #the vampire armand #benji mahmoud #sybelle tvc #Tvc meta #iwtv meta #VC meta #armand le russe #armand iwtv #armand vc #This was meant to be like a paragraph of rambling wtf happened #Sorry if my tone comes off as condescending I’m just very excited about armand #And I don’t agree with the assertion that Benji and sybelle’s good lives as vampires diminish the impact of their turning

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corruptedcaps · 5 months

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Bitchy Besties: part 2

In the car ride over Tanya gabbed about everyone in high school and all their dirty little secrets. Kate couldn’t believe the insight she was gaining about the other students she had known for years. Tanya even spilled the beans on her best friends.

Kate figured Tanya saw Kayleigh as more of a peer than some beta follower like the rest of Tanya’s friends. Despite despising Tanya, Kate found it somewhat rewarding having her bully so enamoured with her.

Tanya brought her around to all the bougie stores and they tried on outfit after outfit and the two were having a genuinely good time together. Kate had never worn so many tight and revealing outfits but she had to admit that they all looked great on her.

Finishing up with a trip to the nail salon, they both got a matching set of new press on's. As the beautician worked, Kate entertained her bully with fabricated stories of her life, who thankfully seemed to eat it up. Some stories were just things Kate remembered Tanya had done but she tweaked certain details to be more ‘Kayleigh’-like, whatever that had come to mean.

Posing for a selfie together, the two girls proudly showed off their new nails.

“This is going to blow up on socials babe, two hawt bitches like us. What’s your handle so I can tag you?” Tanya asked.

Kate started to panic, a girl like Kayleigh would certain have more social media than anyone else but Kate had never bothered. She had to think of an excuse.

“Oh I don’t have any. Well not anymore anyway. Remember the cyber bullying I told you I was doing before? Well my parents made me delete everything, otherwise they weren’t going to fund my trip to Paris.” Kayleigh said sounding genuinely pissed at her fabricated parents.

“Well did you go to Paris?” Tanya asked.

“Eh yeah, remember I told you about the hot French guy I fucked there?” Kayleigh replied.

“Then the statute of limitations are up.” Tanya said grabbing Kayleigh’s phone from her hand before she could be stopped. Tanya was like a pro quickly setting up new accounts for Kayleigh. In 60 seconds flat she handed the phone back.

“Now to tag you in this gorgeous pic of us. Annnnnd posted. You’ll be royalty in this town before the end of the day. So naturally I gave you the handle QueenKayleigh. No need to thank me. Don’t you love it?” Tanya said with a gleeful smirk.

Kaleigh pulled up the post of the two of them and saw the caption read “Hanging with my new BFF @QueenKayleigh, add her now! She’s the real deal.” Kayleigh stared for a long time at ‘BFF’. She had never had a best friend before, it felt kind of nice even if it was Tanya. Speaking of which she realized that Tanya had been waiting for an answer.

“Oh babes this is amazing, we look like twins don’t we?” Kayleigh said to a waiting Tanya who beamed at her.

“Totes! A pair of bitchy babes. Oh looks like you’re blowing up already.” Tanya said as Kayleigh’s phone started a waterfall of chimes. Kayleigh looked down at her phone and sat a barrage of likes, comments and follow requests. It was kind of overwhelming but satisfying to see so many people give her attention.

Comments such as ‘dammmmmn! Who’s the new hottie?’, ‘queens!’, and ‘omg, instant follow!’ were quickly going to her head, she did look stunning after all. Each chime was like an endorphin hit.

“Thanks hun, this will help me jump the social ladder to the top, where sexy babes like us belong. Assuming I pick your school.” Kayleigh said with a natural bitchy purr.

“I hope you choose to come to our school babe, it’s a dump for sure but together the two of us would be unstoppable together. The names Kayleigh and Tanya will make all the losers shudder and all the boys hard. Speaking of which I think I see one checking you out right now.” Tanya said nodding over to a handsome guy sitting in the food court.

Kayleigh looked over to see a handsome college aged guy smiling at her. It had taken her years to attract the meagre attention of Cory and now the hottest guy she had ever seen was checking her out. She remembered the Evie stories and tried to picture what the girls in those stories would do. Standing up she turned and gave Tanya a wink and strode confidently over to the guy.

“Hey hot stuff, were you going to stare at me all day or were you going to ask me out?” She said with a tilt of her head and a sly smile. The guy seemed taken aback by the forwardness but quickly gained his composure.

“Eh yes of course I’d love too. How’s Saturday?” He asked. Kayleigh felt a power over him that she had never felt before. His eyes drank her in and he seemed eager to please. He wanted her and he would do anything she asked. She had to test it out. Remembering how Tanya snatched her phone from her, Kayleigh quickly took the guy’s phone from his hand and started to type.

“No. You’ll pick me up Friday, 9pm, got it? Here, you’re following me on Insta now. DM later for my address.” She said playfully as she handed his phone back to him.

Tanya couldn’t tell what they were talking about from where she sat but could see Kayleigh had the guy wrapped around her little finger. Kayleigh seemed to be having fun, giggling, touching his arm, playing with her hair.

“See you Friday Lucas, and don’t be late.” Kayleigh said wrapping up their flirtation finally. With a cheeky smile, she turned on her heel and strutted away. She felt his eyes on her butt and made sure he had plenty of time to take it all in.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lucas shouted after her.

“Oh babes you’re such a baddie. He’s gorgeous. What did you two talk about?” Tanya asked eager to hear.

“We’ve got a date on Friday.” Kayleigh said with a nonchalance tone.

“Oh girl you work fast, I’m so jelly. I should have pounced on him first.” Tanya said with a smirk back to her.

“Oh you misunderstand me babe, when I say ‘we’ I mean you, me, him and his frat brother. They’re taking us to a club. Maybe we can swap at some point during the night, if you’re that keen on him.” Kayleigh said grinning as Tanya listened, her mouth open.

“Kayleigh, where have you been my whole life? You’re the baddest bitch ever.” Tanya said suddenly hugging Kayleigh.

The whole act seemed to momentarily dislodge Kate from what she was doing and stand back mentally from it all. Only yesterday Tanya was bullying her and she was an outcast and now she was suddenly her best friend with plans of a double date that she had orchestrated! What was she doing? The whole scenario was bizarre and she realized that this wasn’t her, she needed to wrap this up and fast.

“You ok babe?” Tanya said noticing something off.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Just been a long day.” Kaleigh said feigning a yawn.

“Yeah for real, let me drive you home.” Tanya said but Kate suddenly panicked. Tanya couldn’t see where she lived plus she needed to retrieve her clothes still.

"No my parents are expecting to pick me up at the school so you can drop me back there." Kayleigh said already getting up.

The drive back to the school was quieter than the ride to the mall. Kate was deep in thought, her mind at war with itself. Tanya continued to gossip but Kate wasn't taking it all in like before.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home babe?" Tanya asked, sensing something still off about her new friend as she got out of the car.

"No I'm perfect hun, it will give me time to think about my choices." Kayleigh said with a smile.

"Well you know what I hope you choose, this school could use Kayleigh and so could I. See ya later!" Tanya said returning the smile and speeding off. Kate stood in front of the school unsure what to do next.

To be concluded...

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #self corruption #cc2024 #bitchybesties

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dotthings · 5 months

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I have some thoughts about Cas after seeing Misha’s comment on why Cas wasn’t in TW so let me put these bullet points here:

* Many Cas fans latched onto “Cas helped” like it was the only rope thrown to us in a sea of Cas erasure because that’s what it was. If I’d had to believe for the past four years that Cas was trapped in The Empty I would have gone out of my mind and I was already out of my mind due to the various fails of the series finale. Not judging since I get the appeal of a rescue arc but did people really want Cas helpless in The Empty, limp, asleep, trapped in his own regrets for the past four years of realtime (also that’s not canonically how Cas went to The Empty, I’ll get to that). It sounds miserable

* Nobody said “Cas helped” was adequate, ftr. We said it was an info dump and it was the last ditch attempt to give us something after the covid regs/CW Network butchered the finale story and Misha’s part was cut. An info dump isn’t the best way to tell a story but is sometimes a necessity in TV storytelling because of external circumstances

* Cas had earned better from the story and pretty much all the Cas lane all knew it. I was bitter about it. But also it’s what was available as a clue to Cas’s fate. We had Bobby’s line and Dean’s smile as a lantern in the darkness

* If Cas was intended to still be in The Empty why in the og version was he at the bar with Dean if the intent was for him to be trapped in The Empty

* No shade at Misha. Just thinking it through. CMP doesn’t retcon. CMP fills in the blanks and recontextualizes

* one of the great things about 15.18 was Cas’s self actualization story and that when The Empty took him he was fulfilled. Not empty. Cas saved himself—The Empty would have no power over him beyond trying to whisk him away. That is canon. Cas’s self actualization also means something to many Cas fans. The inadequacies of 15.20 don’t make the messaging and implications of 15.18 (and the story leading up to it) less worthwhile and people are still allowed to find Cas’s story meaningful. Even if we’re relieved and happy a follow up is seemingly on the way finally

* The rescue is a great story idea, Misha was maybe just speculating at CCS, or wanted to make fans happy, but I’m not dismissing that perhaps it’s a hint about some revival plans and I feel all tingly

* It doesn’t have to be incompatible with Cas saves himself. Perhaps Cas redesigns Heaven from The Empty

* Reminder that Cas is a cosmically fearsome really stubborn self-realized BAMF who was taken fulfilled and can cancel out possibly even destroy or absorb and transform The Empty’s…energy. Reminder Cas and Rowena were paralleled characters, Rowena wound up as ruler of Hell, while Cas ———-abandoned to a question mark but gee what could it be *looks at Rowena*

* Let me float this scenario. Dean goes to save Cas…and finds Cas sitting on The Empty’s throne, having taken over and reformed the place. Dean’s just staring poleaxed with happiness to find Cas and because he expected Cas to be asleep. Cas, calmly, “Hello, Dean”

*I know some people have speculated about this already. And with whatever insight and power he gained maybe he could have redone Heaven remotely. Maybe Cas at the bar is after the “rescue” — maybe he needs Dean’s help to exit The Empty even if Cas overpowered it. Who wants to clown with me about Cas King of The Empty *honk honk*

* There’s also the question of missing time and pov for Dean between the moment of his death and his arrival in Heaven and what if Cas guided Dean’s soul—lost and confused—somehow but sticking a pin in that for now

Anyway it seems very very likely we are getting a follow up to 15.18 and Cas’s story that finally gives him his full due.

*HONK HONK*

And hearthands for Misha and Jensen both watching over Cas the way they did. Misha realized a cameo wasn’t adequate, Jensen agreed, wholeheartedly, Cas deserved a full follow up not just a cameo with no explanations or deeper story, we knew this already actually but it’s good having Misha on video summarizing it. (It’s possibly due to Harvey Dent that Misha only had time to do a cameo, btw. Not because no one thought Cas should have more screentime).

#Castiel #Misha Collins #Jensen Ackles #Cas meta

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neevblanc · 5 months

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„curious” ♡

a/n —hey all! hope ur doin' well, drink water if you haven't! have this as a treat. it's 2k and some more but i cant be bothered to check for specifics. (p.s sorry if the tarot aspects of this are wonky! i did my best to research and i pulled reference from my sister's experience with tarot cards/reading.)

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Dazai Osamu x GN!reader

Tags— 22/ada dazai, flirting?, pre-slash, don't question why reader's given a key, reader works under ango but he's also they're dad figure, it's a whole thing, mentions of sskk though not explicitly platonic or romantic, take that as you wish, dazai's infuriating habit of burying feelings and then one day he'll die

CW/TW— dazai. (/j, none i can think of.)

note — reader's ability in this is based on one that my friend chose for our self-ship au. "Teacher of Truth by Saneatsu Mushanokoji: The user can employ tarot cards to gain insight into the past, current, and possible future situations. The user needs to know what each of the cards mean in order to properly interpret what they say." it's from a post on tumblr, but I couldn't find it for the life of me! i'll credit if i can. anyway, it's been tweaked a little so i'm here to explain. in this, reader can choose to use their ability during a reading or not, but the tarot cards are always personal to them. people they know will sometimes show in the cards if they're important to them.

The next time Dazai sees you, it’s well before the ADA opens for the day. He’d admittedly had a rough night—sleep evaded him like always, and he hadn’t had dinner because of his own laziness. His futon was impossibly comfy. How was he meant to part with its loving warmth?

The Door to the agency creaks open, the sound not unlike the groan of the cafe floorboards only steps away. One of Dazai’s favorite activities was purposely seeking out the creaky floorboards and dancing on them so loud Kunikida would have to berate him, of course. He was intimately familiar with the annoying sounds this old building could make.

The office is darker than during working hours, but he notices the meager amount of lights still switched on. Distantly, he knows Kunikida would’ve blown a gasket about the electric bill if he had found them still on. He takes a step into the room-

Something rustles. Downstairs, an old radio plays a song he does not recognize. Pigeons flutter and coo from outside the window.

Somebody was in the agency, and had it been any of his fellow detectives, he’d have known.

“Hmmm, what’s this,” he mutters absently, volume low enough to alert whoever it was had decided to trespass.

”Dazai-san?” a soft voice calls, and Dazai pauses for a moment. A short, hollow sound follows—cards shuffling. He bites the inside of his cheek. How curious.

”Last I checked, you don’t clock in with the rest of us measly agents. Surely Ango’s fuming by now?” He hums, stepping into view of you. you’re sat at Atsushi’s desk, bag perched on top of Atsushi’s empty report trays. Dazai almost smirks at the sight— silly Atsushi, always rushing to complete everything in a timely manner. One day, he’d get him to turn them in later, hopefully months later- like he did.

”Hm, no. I clocked in earlier, but Ango wanted me over here early. Something about a mission I have to hand over to Fukuzawa-dono. I got a key from him last time, so I just let myself in.” you explained. Dazai pulled his own chair out and collapsed into it, peering down at what your hands were busying themselves with.

He realizes they’re tarot cards. Thick and sturdy under your fingers, you set them up neatly in front of yourself. The backs are a matte purple, decorated with silver details that glint as the sunrise light hits them for just a fraction of a second. The illustrations seem to flicker with movement, almost like snapshots of time shifting through an old camera, frame after frame.

”What’s got you so busy?” he asks, exaggeratingly leaning over to look at the cards. You laugh and smile, expression wobbly. He notes the change. You briefly shake out the bracelet laying on your wrist, almost nervously. You lay the last card on the desk’s surface. Atsushi’s cute cat clock ticks from where it’s placed near his report trays.

“I do readings for the day early in the morning, just in case. Sometimes, I don’t even use my ability.” You explain, keeping your voice low so as not to break the morning peace. Dazai glances at the cat clock. Soon, the secretaries and Kunikida will clock in and begin their work day. He focuses back on you and grins, intrigued.

“Anxious, then? I guess the ability to see the future will do that to ‘ya.” Dazai sighed, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand. He was content to watch you finish setting the cards down in a formation he admittedly did not understand.

” What does that one mean?” he says, pointing to one of the cards. Its flickering surface shows a woman with mint-colored hair pulled up into a bun. Behind her, there’s a black mass, and she seems to be standing in a graveyard. There are two Xs at the top of the card. You redirect your attention to the card he’s hovering his finger over and smile.

”That’s Judgment—renewal, reflection, awakening, or reckoning. For a personal reading, it would mean going through a period of self-evaluation or maybe even trying to understand the people around you and your situation more.” You explain, seemingly done with the spread and setting down the other cards nearby. Dazai purses his lips.

”Sounds gloomy. Lame!” He huffs, upset by his choice. you gasp and narrow your eyes.

”Don’t call them lame! You’ll piss them off, Dazai.” You hiss, smacking him on the arm. Dazai grins and leans closer, smile growing coy.

”Really now? And how exactly does one do that?” Dazai prods. You stick your tongue out and cross your arms.

“Not telling. Now shut up and let me do my reading.” You grumble, eyes flicking over the cards. Dazai whines and throws himself forward, almost shoving you off of Atsushi’s chair.

”Dude!” You yelp, hands scrambling to grasp his coat as he rights himself. Dazai grabs you by the shoulders and shakes, intent on being the biggest possible nuisance.

”That’s boring! Do your reading laterrrr; it won’t matter, right? Ne- do a reading for me! I wanna know my future,” He begs, grinning. You blink and scowl, pushing him away.

”First off, it would matter. Doing a reading later would be a completely different outcome. Just wait. All I have to do is interpret these. I’ll do yours after.” You grumble, adjusting their sleeves and settling back into the chair. Dazai harrumphs but settles into his own chair to watch you silently read the cards.

You focus back on the cards, and Dazai settles himself by watching you idly. You’re dressed in what you always wear to work, but it’s casual enough to know doubt have been breaking the dress code had you not been working under Ango for so long. There’s a small scrunch to your nose as you focus on your task, and Dazai can spot how you run your tongue over your teeth in thought. Dazai looks away pointedly. Taking a few breaths, he forcibly clears his mind. How odd.

”Okay, done.” You hum, straightening and starting to pick up the cards. He shifts so his whole body is faced toward you. You take gentle care of the cards, putting them back into the deck.

”Why do they flicker like that? You aren’t using your ability,” he asks, curious about the shifting images on the cards. You shrug.

”Don’t know. It happens no matter what deck I use, though I prefer using this one. The images just shift into the same ones most of the time, though some have changed over time.” You explain, shuffling the cards. Dazai reaches out and hovers over your hand before poking the back of it gently. You let him despite knowing the outcome.

The images on the cards still lying on the table flicker, completely uninterrupted, even as Dazai feels the shiver of his ability eating away at yours. He hums and pulls away. He hadn’t been paying attention when he jostled you earlier, but you were right- they were unaffected.

”Strange, but not unheard of. Some ability effects aren’t considered active enough for my ability to erase.” Dazai says, allowing you to continue. you finish and present him with the deck, pulling away when he goes to take them.

”Don’t be mean to them. They’ll be mean to you. You can’t even think anything negative; they’ll know. You’re gonna cut the deck in 3, okay? We’ll do a simple reading.” you explain, and only once Dazai agrees (crosses his heart and hopes to die!) is he gently handed the cards.

”What do you want to read? We can focus on love, or money, or your career, things like that.” You say. Dazai ponders for a moment before sniffing, mouth settled into a pompous pout.

”I want to know if someone will finally be interested in a double suicide with me.” He huffs. You scoff.

”You’re insane. Okay, so love. Think about that while you cut them.” You nod, giving him the go-ahead. He runs his fingers over the well-loved edges and slots his thumbs through the deck where it feels right, setting the individual cuts down on the desk before them. He tries to take it as seriously as possible, though thinking about love has always made him squirm and itch beneath his skin.

You reach over once he’s done and clear your throat, carefully picking the top cards on each deck and laying them out in front of him. On the left, the first card flipped is a wheel, seemingly in the sky and surrounded by clouds. The clouds float by calmly, though Dazai can’t find anything particularly personal to you the way some of the other cards would show.

It’s made a little more difficult considering the card’s orientation- upside down.

You hum at it before moving on. The card in the middle is revealed, and this one piques his interest. He grins a little at the image. Two figures hold goblets in their hands, strings of power rising from the cups and meeting above their heads to form a Yin and Yang sign. The figures are startingly familiar- one dark-haired, the other light-haired. Accents in their hair match each other, silver and black clashing and melding nicely. This one’s facing right-side up. The image flickers to show the energy that swirls around, occasionally circling their respective holders.

The last one flicks onto the wooden desk with a hollow sound. The image is soft, not unlike the first one with the blue sky. A sun takes up the upper half, rays pronounced against the sky. Ttheire’s a little kid in the illustration, their beaming face scrunched up in happiness. There’s a flag clutched in one hand, with the other gripping onto the mane of the white horse they’re perched upon. Sunflowers frame them, peaking over the illustrated garden wall behind them.

It’s an endlessly endearing picture, and from the smile, he has a feeling he knows who it is. Like the last one, it’s right-side up.

You settle your chin against your palm, leaning on the table with a hum.

”That’s….a really nice reading, actually.” You move to point at the cards. Dazai sits patiently with his hands on his lap. Nothing more fascinating than seeing someone in their element, he supposed.

”That first one is The Wheel of Fortune. Upside down, it’s a little darker. It represents your past,” you pause, looking at him for a moment. “I think for you, it’s focused on the feeling of helplessness—lack of power or control…like you had love but couldn’t control how and when you lost it,” you say, your voice soft. Dazai fights to ignore the discomfort building in his throat.

”Well, what can I say? My dark past haunts me,” he bemoans, and you huff a soft laugh. You move on to the next card- the cups. You look a little embarrassed by this one.

”This one is the present. Two cups represent…well, partnership. More specifically, the realization of a new partnership. This one can be pretty romantic. I guess you’ve got something to look forward to soon,” you say, pointedly ignoring the images of his two kohais. He grins, sparing you of the teasing. He didn’t know how well you even knew Akutagawa- but it was amusing to see everyone could see what those two denied vehemently.

”The last one is the future. You got The Sun, which is actually really sweet.” Through your embarrassment, Dazai watches a sweet smile grow on your face. He matches it easily.

“It means joy and success, for you in particular. It means…whatever or whoever your two cups is for, you’ll be very happy together.” You say, and Dazai sighs wistfully.

”Maybe someone will finally want to commit suicide with me! This news might keep me alive a day longer just yet,” Dazai coos. You groan and take a deep breath, seemingly ignoring him as you duck your head down and then start to put the cards back.

”You better hope you didn’t piss this deck off, Dazai.” you huff, glaring. Dazai pouts, cradling his face in his hands.

“What?! I followed all your rules; I would never,” he whines. You flip him off and busily tuck the cards into a soft leather pouch. He lets his hands drop and watches for a moment.

”Thanks for the reading,” Dazai says, his voice back to normal. You glance at him and smile.

”Yeah, no problem. It’s nice to read without my ability once in a while,” you admit, expression soft. He grins. Something stirs in his chest.

”You can read me whenever you want, lovely.” He purrs jokingly. You startle, flushing. You glare and kick him with your foot.

”Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter. Dazai whines out a laugh, having settled on teasing you until he could see the smoke coming out your ears.

Before he could continue, the door creaks open, and the overhead lights flick on. Multiple people come shuffling in, and Dazai can hear Kunikida conversing lowly with Fukuzawa. The secretaries also file in, chattering contently amongst themselves. Fukuzawa and Kunkida pause only to greet them both. you wave politely, and Dazai salutes them both.

you blink your eyes to adjust to the light now flooding the room. Dazai huffs and stands with a groan.

”Alright, I’ve got five minutes to get out of here. You’ll be going in to see Shachou, right?” He asks, stretching. you stand and nod, giving him a look.

”Where are you going?” you ask, picking up your bag. He groans at the way his back pops as he rights himself from his stretching.

”Home. I only came here 'cause I was bored. But in the long run, it’ll be a lot funnier if Kunikida’s mad all morning when I don’t show up~” He snickers. you shake your head, a smile pulling at your mouth.

“You’re so lame. See you, then.” You sighed, heading down the hall Kunikida and Fukuzawa had disappeared down.

”And yet you love me. ‘Till we meet again,” he calls, pointedly ignoring the yell you let out.

”Whatever!” you yelped, and Dazai let the agency door click closed behind him.

He grins. Curious indeed.

note — can you tell i love brothers! atsushi and dazai? also, the woman in Judgement is Mizuki Tsujimura, who I headcanon is pretty good friends with reader in this one. :) please let me know if there are any pronoun inconsistencies! this was originally written with she/her pronouns, and i did my best to fix it to match the gender neutral style i like to use for tumblr stuffs.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #gn!y/n #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #gender neutral y/n #neev.doc

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