#but i have absolutely no idea what is a reasonable amount to step outside of my comfort zone/interests

[aeolids-zenith]

i hate posts that are supposed to be positivity for people who lack friends or that say that social connections are like unexpectedly inevitable/straightforward to make or something, but then like. don't elaborate on how that is possible. it always just makes me feel more hopeless

[stellarwing]

This post contains spoilers for Disco Elysium!

Ever since I learned what the good cop/bad cop score actually represents I have become obsessed with checking it constantly as I play through the game to figure out what makes Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi tick. There have been many things here and there that surprised me but I would like to share my absolute favorite thing I have learned about this man.

First, lest I give you all the wrong idea, I want to make it clear that Kim does very much enjoy watching Harry do good detective work and cracking open a case. But everyone knows that already. It's much less fun and interesting than this:

Kim loves it when Harry fails in a way that gives Kim a chance to swoop in and comfort him.

I have two examples of this coming into play:

1. Billie's Husband

When you talk to Billie to break the news about her husband's death there's an Empathy check to see how well you do it. If you pass the check and do everything absolutely perfectly, Kim will tell you that you did a good job and talk about what happens next. You neither gain nor lose points at any point in this interaction.

If you fail the Empathy check Harry completely botches the death notification. You neither gain nor lose points for this. Once you step outside Kim wants to talk to you about how it went. If you say there's nothing to talk about, you lose 1 point. If you admit you fucked up and apologize Kim reassures you that it wasn't that bad and you gain 1 point.

Once again, there's no way to gain points if you do everything correctly. What this means is that the version of the scene that makes Kim happiest is the one where Harry screws up the death notification but is apologetic enough about it that Kim can feel good about cheering him up.

2. The Moralist Quest

During the climax of the Moralist quest when you contact Coalition Warship Archer you have the opportunity to earn a total of 3 points. If you tell Archer about the 2mm hole in the world but then refuse to go with them, regardless of the reason you choose to stay you gain 1 point.

Once the conversation is over and you are disconnected from Archer there is a passive Volition check. If you fail the check then you climb down off the statue and that's it, that's the end of the scene. You leave with your total of 1 point. But if you pass the check you are given the option to stay sitting on the statue a little while longer.

If you choose to stay, Kim asks you if you're okay and tries to reassure you that you made the correct decision. Simply for going through this scene and giving him the opportunity to talk to you about it you gain 2 points.

There are a couple dialogue choices you can make but you get the 2 points regardless of what you pick. There are very few actions in the game that earn you double points. This is the same amount you get for finding the bullet in the hanged man's head. And you get it just for giving Kim the opportunity to comfort you after your failed Moralist mission.

Kim wants Harry to need him so bad.

[cherryredstars]

OKAY OKAY but IMAGINE

A reader who owns a cafe and this grumpy ahh Miguel always orders one specific item which usually no one buys. Reader notices the small details about this regular guy cuz well it’s MIGUEL reader has a tint crush.

One day spiderman saves the reader from thieves or something. Basically he ends up in her cafe and as a thank you the reader offers food and he just sighs instinctively picking the same dessert and muscle memory doing a trick.

Basically WHAT IM SAYING IS imagine the reader next time Miguel orders at their cafe puts a lil spider themed candy

They somehow signal him that: HAHA I KNOW WHO YOU ARE GRUMPY >:3

(Using >:3 to tell you the reader has chaotic energy.)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of Attempted Mugging

Summary: It simply can’t be a coincidence.

Word Count: 1.2K (Not Edited)

There’s something mysterious about that man. 

Yes, it may have to do something with his gigantic size and almost too wide shoulders. Or the fact he always looks like he’s a second away from shoving the next person out of the way. Oh and how can you forget the part where he has only said the same seven words to you since he’s been here. Medium coffee, black. Add one of those. Then he proceeds to point at the display at the one pastry you can never sell out. No thank you’s, please’s, how are you’s. He quite literally only says those seven words and then grunts at any of your questions. He’s only ever said one extra word to you, which was his name the first time he visited because he paid in cash.

Honestly, you find him very intimidating. He’s the only reason that non-selling pastry is still available. Usually, you’d have it removed and replaced with another item. But you absolutely dread the idea of him being pissed at you for removing the only other item he gets daily. Plus, you don’t want your existence to be reduced to three words. So, it’s here to stay. You just make it in the smallest batch possible and then give the extras, along with other leftover pastries, to the local soup kitchen to give out the next day. Even then, you’re pretty sure they end up throwing away the pastry at the end of the day since no one wanted it. 

Nonetheless, it’s only right to give back to the community around you. No matter what gets eaten or not. At least they get the choice to decide if they want to try it. It’s better than throwing out all the food when you know there are people who could need it. Mondays are always the busiest days, so you make sure to make a little extra pastries and food to be able to give a pleasing amount to the kitchen. As you stuff the last of the remaining pastries into the box, you close it up and stack it on top of the first box. You pull on the handles of the bag under everything, having them securely supported for easy carry. You grab your canvas bag from the backroom, checking your prep in the fridges and freezers one last time before getting ready to leave. You grab the bag of pastries as you make your way to the back door, once again thankful that you don’t have to lock it since it’s not accessible from the outside. 

As you begin to walk down the small stone steps and out of the small indent on the street, something behind you rattles. You jump slightly, hand tightening on the bag as you turn around quickly. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as you squint into the darkness, trying to spot something. You slightly relax as nothing seems out of the ordinary. Perhaps it was a stray cat or even a mouse. The thought makes you scrunch up your nose and you begin to turn around again so you can make it to the shelter before it closes its doors for the night. 

You instantly scream as you come faced to face with a man in a ski mask. He instantly covers your mouth, pushing you against the back door. You almost trip as you’re forced to walk up the steps and your body tenses as it hits the door. You feel something cold and metallic against your side, eyes widening as you attempt to look down. It’s hard with his hand covering part of your face and it takes him shaking you and slightly banging your head against the door to realize he’s speaking to you about money and jewelry. You can feel your hands trembling, tears welling up. You almost want to sob and yell when you notice another figure approaching behind the man. 

Oh how perfect, there’s two.

But you’re surprised when the figure grabs the man’s shoulder, revealing the almost shiny blue and red of a familiar costume. The man is quickly yanked off of you, and you take a sharp inhale now that your mouth is uncovered. You watch the commotion with wide eyes as the figure- as Spiderman- quickly disarms the mugger and pulls out makeshift handcuffs. The man struggles in them as he sits at the hero’s feet. Spiderman makes no notice to him, instead focusing on a floating screen as he reports the incident via an anonymous tip for the police station. 

You’re still struggling to wrap your mind around what just happened when the Spider turns to you, “You okay?”

You blink rapidly, nodding almost numbly, “Uh, yeah… I think. Thank you.”

He gives you a grunt and if you had a clearer mind, you might have recognized it. As the hero turns to leave you call out. He lets out another grunt of displeasure, but you pay little attention to it as you set the pastry bag down and pull out the box from the top. 

“Take one. They’re leftovers from today, but they’re still good. Consider it my thank you.”

You open the box and peer inside of it as you present it to him. It’s full of small sandwiches, a few different flavors of bread slices, and in the corner there are few of Miguel’s usual pastries. You expect the spider to go for one of the sandwiches, but your eyes widen as he takes three of Miguel’s pastry. You stare at the spot they had been in the box before staring at the hero. There is simply no way.

Your eyes study the hero, taking in his build for the first time. Enormous height and wide shoulders. Same posture and same pastry. Surely, it couldn’t be a simple coincidence. You slowly close the box, holding the sides of it tightly as the hero starts to deport. You stare after him in astonishment, even as the sound of police cars start sounding and two officers rush into the alley to find the tied up mugger and you. 

There is simply no way.

You show up early the next day to the bakery. You take care making everything, letting them cool slightly before putting them in the display cases. Once the doors open, the usual morning rush spews in, and you spend the next two to three hours serving customers. As per usual, he comes right as the morning rush ends, and you feel a giddiness as he walks up to the counter. 

“Medium coffee, black. Add one of th-” You smile widely when he pauses.

His eyes are trained to his pastry. Today it looks different. In the center of the flakey dough there is a cut out of a spider, revealing the filling inside. He squints at it, leaning his face closer to the glass to view it. When he looks up to you, he can see the knowing glint in your eyes and the teasing smirk on your face. He sighs, something between displeased and amused before he stands up straight again. 

“Add one of those.” He finishes his previous sentence, pulling out his card to pay. 

“Sure thing,” You smile, approving the transaction before turning around and getting started on his coffee. “...Spiderman.”

From the grunt behind you, you know he heard.

Join Cherry’s Discord Server

[feitanii-ll]

巛—𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘 𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞—⫸

[[ knight !reader x royal !link scenarios ]]

you've been assigned to him for as long as you could remember. people have observed your bond, and it's quite obvious that you're the only reasonable match— the only one he's willing to let take care of him. you wouldn't want to change that fact either, but taking care of link comes with an unfathomable amount of responsibility. such as...

★ "put down that damn frog!"

you're the closest you've ever been to a heart attack at this point. taking the prince out on a voyage where there were monsters lurking about was the last thing you had wanted to do, but unable to resist his insistent, silent pouting, you couldn't exactly denyhim what he wanted.

he's cute when he's curious, which is everyday. you let him roam around with his large observational book, studying and taking notice of whatever shroom or flower was blooming by whatever random tree.

speaking of a tree, you figured to set up a small campsite under a large tree not too far away from the castle. there was a fire going in a pot, and the boy had been throwing random food stuff inside and hoping for the best dish to come from it. you watch with a soft smile— that is, until it deflates as you spot a few bokoblins a little too close and sigh, standing up.

"Stay here." you mumble softly, to which the boy smiles and nods, eyes glued to the way you reach up to grip the handle of your sword, pulling it up and out of its sheathe.

yoi don't take long— really you don't. the bokoblin type was blue, more than easy to take down. you don't even break a sweat until you begin walking back to the tree, only to feel your breath hitch and your heart stop. that damn monster of curiosity (or, link) was holding a poor frog over the pot, probably more than ready to drop it in for Hylia knows what.

your shouting startles the boy, making him go wide-eyed and sheepish as you storm up to him. you take a second to glare before snatching the creature from his hands and setting it back into the small body of water that he was most likely snatched from.

"seriously? I was gone for five minutes." you protest.

his face goes expressive,

'it's for science!' he signs

"I know, link... you always say that." you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, opening your eyes to see him flipping frantically through his research book before holding it open, shoving the open page in your face.

a silly healing elixir that he had been mentioning non-stop. it was probably the reason he was so adamant about tagging along.

"yes, my liege, I know about the elixir. but if you want it so bad, why don't you just simply buy one?" you suggest, exhaustion in your voice.

his face scrunches in disgust at the idea, throwing the book down before signing again,

'too far. want to experience creating it on my own'

you look from his hands to his face, being met with his saddened eyes. if he were anyone else...

"fine..." you mumble, to which he silently celebrates, "just, not in front of me, please?"

'thank you.' he steps closer, and you smile.

'no problem'. you sign back.

* * *

★ "please be careful, my liege." you voice to the blonde prince.

he'd gladly tell you that he was fine if his hands weren't currently full. if anyone else saw how you and link interacted outside of the castle, you're sure you'd be killed for your crimes.

maybe it wasn't a good idea to let the prince of hyrule use your sword and swing it around however he pleased, but in your professional opinion— he's a natural.

"you're doing great!" you smile, shaking your head as he was caught up in his own little world. and he really was. so great that he couldn't heat a word you said. holding a weapon just felt so natural to him, and he absolutely loved it when you offered it up for him to use during leisure time.

his swings are heavy and lethal, but it's obvious to you that he isn't pacing himself. the movements are so natural that he doesn't even comprehend the strain it's putting on his body— not until his swing is stopped.

link looks down at his tightened grasp on the handle, but looseness it as he realizes that you had caught his wrist. his disgruntled expression softens significantly as he looks up at you in awe and embarrassment as you hold his wrists with one hand, and remove the handle the handle from his grip with the other.

"that's enough," tour voice rings through his head as you chuck the sword to the side, face growing serious as you keep holding his wrists, "you alright?"

he can't respond with occupied hands, and so he nods, heart pounding at your serious expression. he wonders what he's done wrong, or what should be wrong, until he begins to feel an ache in his back and shoulders, making him wince. you notice.

"I know that feeling... it's why I stopped you." you explain whilst removing your hands from him. "you're good, but you're straining yourself. you're not fit for that type of intensity."

he mouths a small 'oh', and you sigh, frowning as he rubs his aching shoulder.

"it's alright... I've got something to heal you right up."

the male smiles softly, nodding in appreciation. you were always taking care of him like this. but your encouragement for him to get a little rough and rowdy is why he liked you so much. though you wanted him safe, you weren't constantly sheltering him. he hated that.

he taps your shoulder, to which you turn to him,

'sorry.'

you smile and shake your head, "don't apologize. you did really good my liege. wonder what you'd be like as a knight, actually." you chuckle.

he smiles back, letting the butterflies float around in his tummy.

* * *

★ "what do you think you're doing?"

you felt like you've done this... a lot. for the umpteenth time, you've caught the prince walking around the castle grounds, barefoot, and draped in a softened blanket as he attempts to protect himself from the nighttime breeze.

the look he gives you is one of disappointment as he thinks you're going to take him back inside, but he's pleasantly surprised when you shake your head and simply rest a hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward.

"Don't worry...I'll sit with you."

he smiles, clutching the blanket tighter. beyond the wall, he can spot the swaying of the grass, the wispyness of the clouds in the deep blue sky, and the stillness of the ancient guardians that settled into the ground. he truly loves his kingdom, and you can see it true. he walks until he reaches a spot that makes it easy to see the vast land and takes a seat on the edge of the castle walls.

"this is nice..." you sigh as you sit beside him

he nods, and your eyes glance over to him incase he's ready to talk back. and he does:

'I think I enjoy nighttime the best.' he signs, glancing between you and the beautiful view amongst him, 'sometimes, i think about running. I want to explore.'

you heart aches

"I know, my liege... I'm sorry you feel trapped." you whisper

to your surprise, he laughs softly, shaking his head, 'not trapped... just hidden potential'

you smile. such a purse and positive response. his head turns to face you, eyes so blue that you can't help but observe them thoroughly. he scoots closer beside you, careful, as to not fall, and rest his head on your shoulder.

"I think..." you wrap his blanket around him tighter, "I think we were definitely meant to be this way, my liege." you whisper, and watch as his eyes flutter shut

but not before he nods in agreement, and your heart tate spikes at what he says next.

his hands don't communicate, no. nit this time. instead, you're blessed with a sound ao angelic, so soft that you'd dread if you accidentally missed it.

"I think so too..." he whispers.

* * *

[sunnynwanda]

The Game: Part 2

Part 1

Warning: manipulation, cat-and-mouse vibe, electricity used for restraining (I have no idea how to phrase this). Let me know if I've missed anything.

It's been 72 hours since Villain's capture, and Hero was on the verge of insanity. The sudden loud fits of laughter at any time of day and night and, as a result, the lack of sleep were getting the best of them. Besides, their mind was buzzing - they were curious about why Villain had made no attempts to escape yet.

Villain looked ecstatic in the most twisted way possible. Hero could not, for the life of them, figure out why. They were locked up in a cell with thick bars that they could never bend. Even if they were strong enough to do that, the electric current would leave them paralysed for a significant amount of time and would alert Hero. They had no reason to be this smug and satisfied.

"For the love of god, shut the fuck up!" They slam their fist against the wall right outside the cell, exasperation colouring their voice delightfully. "For once in your life, stay quiet!"

Villain's grin is so broad Hero expects their goddamn face to crack open. It's the fourth visit that Hero has paid them this afternoon, after a long sleepless night and even longer morning. "Aw, you love my laugh, baby!"

"I fucking hate you," Hero retorts, eyes blazing. They can test the bitterness of the lie on their tongue. "And your cackling laugh."

No, they don't. They don't hate Villain. Not in the slightest. They do hate how insufferable they can get, though.

Villain snorts, shaking their head. They take a step forward, and Hero's expression twitches for a moment. Villain's tone is cocky, almost mocking. "You love this."

You love the game.

"Stop. You better stop." Hero's warning flies right over Villain's head as they step up close to the bars, wrapping one hand around one and allowing electricity to course through their body. The hair on their arms stands, their fingertips buzzing with excitement when their hand reaches through the bars, ghosting down Hero's chest.

"Y-you're absolutely deranged," Hero's voice is quieter now, their concern evident in their furrowed brow as they glance at the hand travelling down the front of their body. "But, you're not a mad scientist."

"Oh?" Villain tilts their head to the side, smirking as they await Hero's explanation. Their long fingers reach Hero's belt, hooking into it to drag Hero closer with a sickening smile. They lick their lips, the action seeming to capture Hero's attention.

Hero's throat is drier than the dessert. They inhale deeply through the nose, their lips remaining sealed shut.

"What am I then? Mmm?" Villain moans out, eyes rolling into the back of their head as they slide their hand around Hero's waist, fingers digging into their flesh before gripping their belt again.

"You're just mad," Hero snarls, entirely done with their bullshit. Whatever this act is, it's still an act, and they will be damned if they fall for it. They push Villain's hand off them, feeling its shameful absence almost instantly as they back away. "Without the science part."

"Wanna bet?" Villain muses, their voice dripping with honey. It's unsettling and eerie - it sends a shiver down Hero's spine despite the bars separating them from their nemesis. They step back, winking at Hero before trailing towards their bed.

Hero shakes their head with a sigh as they retreat into the office, trying to ignore the lingering memory of Villain's hand on them.

Villain chuckles, twirling the tiny key between their fingers as they lay on their ascetic bed. They cannot wait for the night to arrive.

It's pitch black in the corridor, with no light penetrating the tiny window under the ceiling. Villain takes a deep breath to contain their excitement as they sneak along, their back pressed to the wall. They can't make out anything in the total darkness, instead counting their steps. Once they get to the general area, they use their sensitive palms to detect the change from stone to glass. Villain feels for the keyhole and, upon locating it, pulls out the key they stole from Hero's belt. They glide in and start searching for a switch when the lights flash on, illuminating the entire laboratory and Hero, sitting on one of the tables with their hands crossed over their chest.

"Holy s-" Villain jumps, clutching their chest with an exaggerated gasp, earning a chuckle from Hero.

"Hello," they smirk, satisfied with the effect. Villain's alarmed look brings more pleasure than they expected. "Did you think I'm that stupid?"

Villain quirks an eyebrow at them, tempted to say yes solely for the noble purpose of annoying Hero into oblivion. They shake their head with a wide grin. "No, you're worse."

Hero huffs, sliding off the table and taking a - hopefully - intimidating step towards Villain. "You think I didn't figure you wanted to get me worn out? So I would lose focus and miss you stealing the key?"

"Well, why did you let me take it then?" Villain counters, their expression becoming unreadable. They can't deny Hero is smart enough to understand they would not remain in the cell for that long had they not had a secret agenda. And an agenda they have. They need that goddamn device.

"Wanted to see what it was that you so desperately wanted," Hero explains, maintaining a calm demeanour.

"Apart from you?" Villain fails to keep the words from rolling off their lips. Hero appears unamused, so they sigh, raising their hands to indicate surrender. "Okay, fine. I want that little thing over there. So, let me take it, and I'll be out of your hair."

Hero follows the direction they are pointing in, and their jaw all but drops. "OD-8? As in, the deadly nerve gas with unknown effects? Are you insane?"

"I thought we had established that..." Villain trails off in an attempt to seem nonchalant. "But I really want it! An-and I can promise not to use it on you?" They plead, going so far as to muster up a puppy-eyed look.

"Do you think I'm a complete idiot?" Hero snorts, unimpressed by both the promise and begging. "No way in hell."

"But-" Villain looks nothing short of a kid deprived of their favourite candy. Hero would laugh if they didn't know better.

"No buts. And no way you're getting it." They cut, their voice devoid of emotion. Villain's face falls, causing Hero to sigh. They rub their eyebrow for a moment, thinking. "Fine. You can take one can of paralytic. That's the only thing I can offer you."

Villain's eyes light up immediately. Hero chuckles, handing Villain the promised can and ushering them out of the lab. They take the key back and make sure to lock the door before turning to face their nemesis.

"Now, get out of here before I change my mind," Villain darts up the stairs with a jump in their steps, and Hero starts to doubt their decision. They knew succumbing was not the best bet, but their dimwitted genius needed something to play with, and they felt safer choosing what to give them.

A part of them suspects that was what Villain had initially wanted and that they are going to end up paralysed and kidnapped in the upcoming days in retaliation for the arrest. But, as long as they get a good night's rest and Villain's stupid cute laugh, they don't mind it all that much.

And the game goes on.

Part 1

A/N: I seem to have a problem with the tags for some reason... If I fail to tag you in this, I'm sorry 🙏 If you happen to read this, let me know what you think. Thank you!

Love you 💛

xo Sunny ☀️

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpific @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Being Namor's Daughter and Choosing Wakanda over him after Queen Ramonda's Death

Okay so walking straight into enemy territory after your father just drowned the country's beloved leader in front of her daughter wasn't your best idea. But how could you continue to stand with by Namor's side with his merciless actions. Your whole life you had always been daddy's little girl. Namor gave you the world and treated you like the Princess you were. When you expressed your desire to be a warrior he didn't turn you away.

He taught how to fight, how to move with your wings, and how to control your ability to manipulate water. Whatever your heart desired is what he gave you. Except this time the feud between Wakanda and Talokan was getting out of hand. You had begged your father to proceed with caution when he returned from his meeting with the Queen to find. Both Shuri and Riri had been rescued by the country.

You grabbed his arm and dug your feet into the hard cavern floor. Holding on for dear life your desperate pleas were the last line defense for an inevitable war on the horizon. You had considerable strength thanks to being his daughter, but Namor was still stronger. And when he turned around to shrug you away that one small action sent you flying back to the ground. You landed on your butt hard and looked up at him in shock and fear.

Namor's eyes widened as it hit him what he just did. His intention wasn't to hurt you that was never his intention. Regret flashed across his face but was quickly replaced with his hard resolve. You recognized that look all too well. He wore it whenever Namora and Attuma came to him with news of human ships getting to close to Talon's vibranium supply.

His mind was made up and no amount of reasoning would change it. He would attempt to make amends with you later, but soon Namor would discover this time he went too far in your eyes. Unlike your father you never shared the same hatred for the surface world. Especially for a nation of people who were in the same position as Talokan, and while Wakanda had surely made some mistakes. Nothing justified what he was doing. This wasn't the way to build an alliance, and you had to do something. If such a thing could still be possible.

You rose up out of the water in the heart of city floating outside the palace. At the same spot where your father launched his attack on Queen Ramonda. You got the chance to speak with her after news reached you that her daughter and the scientist got captured.

"You have a lot of nerve to show your face here" Queen Ramonda seethed.

You appeared on the same beach your father had approached them at knowing it would be heavily guarded. Indeed you were met with sharp end of multiple spears wielded by women dressed in red and silver armor. "I come in peace I request an audience with the Queen."

"And why should we grant your request?" One of them spoke up walking forward forcing you to step back. In order to avoid being pierced with her weapon.

It was a power move to establish control and dominance. You knew it and knocked the spear away with a simple strike. "Because my father has taken your Princess and the scientist hostage."

That was all they needed to hear and the leader of the army ordered them to stand down. She regarded you in suspicion. You had no weapon attached to your body, and didn't look a day over eighteen, but your eyes told a different story. You were a force to be reckoned with just as much as your father. Funny thing you never introduced yourself as the Princess of Talokan, but she was able to figure it out. With the way you walked and talked showing absolutely no fear.

"I know you are angry your Highness and you have every right to be. My father went against his word and betrayed you, but I promise you no harm has come to your daughter." You told her.

"And I'm just supposed to believe you. The child of my enemy who threatened my country" She shot back with a humorless chuckle.

"I might be his child but I am nothing like my father I came to reassure you and-" You cut yourself off in hesitation.

"And what go on" Queen Ramonda encouraged with a wave of her head. The elderly people seated in a circle of the throne room nodded as well. They were captivated from the second you walked through the door. The wings on your ankles, the pointy ears, and the large circular vibranium bottle that sat on your hip. They wondered what was in it, and you reassured them it was only water. But none of them knew of your ability to control it.

"I'm here to offer myself up as your prisoner until your daughter and the young scientist is returned safely." You finished straightening your body out to stand tall. Your eyes locked onto hers to show her just how serious you were about this proposition.

Queen Ramonda waited for a few seconds as if you had just told a joke, and she was waiting for the punchline. But you showed no sign of retracting your offer or regret. "Will you really be so foolish child?"

"Its not foolish it's a fair trade in my eyes. My father took the Princess of Wakanda, so you guys get the Princess of Talokan" You told her.

"Queen Ramonda we should accept her surrender. It will finally give us the leverage to get him to surrender." A elder woman spoke up.

"My father doesn't surrender ever" You corrected her. "But this will keep him in check, and make him more inclined to negotiate."

A dark skinned burly man dressed in furry clothing got to his feet. "Maybe we don't want to bargain with the fishman. What if we want to kill him?"

Your gaze darkened at the clear hostility that his demeanor was giving off. "Then I would pray to whatever you humans believe in these days, because that's a fight none of you stand a chance in surviving." You sneered taking a step closer.

The man raised an eyebrow at you. "Oh so you do have a bit of fight in you after all. How much of a warrior did fishman make you?"

"My father's name is Namor and you should do well to remember it" You said with your voice getting considerably lower. There was a dangerous tone to it.

Queen Ramonda must have recognized it and knew it matched the same one as Namor. When he made his threats and she didn't like it. "M'Baku stand down at once" she ordered pointing a finger at him.

M'Baku looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better against it, and took his seat.

"Great now that the furry man is done with his idle threats. I want to make it clear I'm only surrendering to you and no one else your Highness." You said your voice returning to its normal tone of neutrality.

"Ayo prepare a hovercraft" Ramonda announced.

"Forgive if I overstep my boundaries my Queen but for what purpose" Ayo asked, slightly confused at her decision.

"We're returning the Princess of Talokan to the beach" The Queen answered getting to her feet. A collective sound of gasps filled the room at her words. Then everyone burst into speech trying to talk over each other.

"Are you serious?" You asked her with narrowed eyes. As you pondered rather or not this was some sort of trap. Somehow your voice carried over everyone else's.

"Yes I am and we shall discuss my decision on the way. Now come child" she said taking a gentle hold of your shoulder to nudge you forward.

On that trip Queen Ramonda revealed to you that despite all your father's transgressions against Wakanda. She had no intention of involving his child in the affairs of the two nations. You argued that it was your decision, and she hit you back with. The classic you're a child and clearly not thinking straight.

"You remind me of my Shuri in someways y/n and if I can I want to protect you from the horrors of war."

Guilt tore through your body as you flew through the gaping holes where there use to be glass. You weren't present during the war only because your father ordered you to stay behind, and left a few of his guards on watch duty. If he was smart he would've left Namor or Attuma the only soldiers in your army that could hold their own against you.

Your feet touched the cold brown floor, and it felt as if the pain and grief from the events that took place here. Just a day ago or so was still swirling around in the throne room like a spirit clinging to what little life they have left. You could feel it in your bones and it nearly put you on your knees. Until your ears picked up a the faint sound of footsteps approaching you from behind. Then a low whistling noise followed and you brought your arm to block the blade with vibranium wrist guard. It glanced off the green metal and sent your attacker stumbling back.

You whirled around to face the person. It was a lone man by himself dressed in dark clothing. His face was covered with a mask covering the bottom half of his face. Out of nowhere two more came to his aide taking their place on either side of him. "Don't be a fool take to the Princess."

"What do you want Talokanil? A familiar voice demanded from behind. You glanced over your shoulder to see it was none other than Ayo with small change in armor. Instead of a silver neckline hers was now gold.

"I want to speak with her" You said your main focus going back to the men just a few feet away.

"For what reason I know you wouldn't be dumb enough to surrender yourself to her. In the state that she is in you will find no mercy here" Ayo warned.

"I'm not seeking out mercy I want to assist her in defeating my father" You revealed. Not needing to see her face to hear the hitch in her breathing. Once again you had surprised her.

"She doesn't want your assistance" One of the man cried out lunging at you. He swung his sword in wide arc aiming for your face.

"No" Ayo yelled holding out a hand. She might not be your biggest fan right now, but if your blood was spilled Namor would become even more unhinged.

His movements were erratic and sloppy. You caught by the wrist and forced his hand down while swinging his body around at the same time. In one swift move the man was rolled to the floor gently. It happened so fast that the others barely witnessed your counter. Ayo eyed the sword attached to your back wondering why you didn't draw it instead. You would've been within your right to do it.

"I'm not looking for a fight with either of you. I'm sorry for the loss of your leader. She was great woman and didn't deserve what my father did to her. I know I can't bring her back or right his wrongs, but I can help bring this war to an end. Before more countless lives are lost please just let me do that." You pleaded your case looking over at Ayo in desperation.

She let out a huff knowing what she was about to do could only end two ways. Either Wakanda was going to gain an ally with unlimited knowledge on Talokan's army, or there would be no peaceful to all of this will your body turned up in the ocean. She prayed to Bast the Princess could bury her emotions to at least hear you out.

"Come on then she is in her lab" Ayo finally agreed and motioned for you to follow her. Which you did walking instead of flying.

The elevator ride down was filled with more awkwardness than tension, and you appreciated it. Knowing it would change in just a few more seconds. Ayo was wary of your intentions yet somehow you were still able to convince her of your honesty.

Shuri wouldn't be so quick to believe you heck it wouldn't matter to her if it did. You had to consider the possibility she would be consumed by vengeance already. The elevators doors finally opened to a massive space with a giant circular ramp behind you. There were many levels to it each one filled with various workstation and clear screens. On the outside you could see through the glass a multiple trains traveling at a blinding speed across the vast cave system. You were wandering over to truly take in the sight. When a hand stopped you with a firm grasp of your shoulder.

"We didn't come here for you to sightsee Princess let's go" Ayo reminded you.

You nodded and followed her around the ramp. Just a few feet away stood a group of four women huddled together. You recognized all of them having run into them all at some point. The one named Okoye stood beside Shuri with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Nakia sat beside the Princess and cradled her head on her shoulder. Riri stood a few feet away fiddling with her hands keeping her gaze on the floor.

"Now might not be the best time" Ayo whispered.

"Its now or ever I leave now my father will not permit my return. He has his ways of keeping me locked up." You whispered back stepping forward. Ayo shot you a look picking up on the subtle hint of distress in your confession. There was a story behind your words.

"Princess Shuri" You called out her name softly trying carefully not to shock her too much.

She pulled away from Nakia as all of their heads snapped in your direction. Okoye moved to stand in front of the Princess protectively knowing that even without a spear. She was still one of Wakanda's best warriors. Riri scrambled backward and inched her over to stand beside Shuri who was on her feet. Ayo took stance in front of you with a single hand raised. Nakia did the same placing herself in front of Okoye and Shuri.

The woman with beautiful locs that were a deep red color pulled back pointed the long gun at the Talokanil woman. Who had Shuri by the shoulder with a blade to her throat. The mysterious stranger and the Princess spoke their mother tongue. But before she could fire off a shot you walked into the room with calm pace. Holding out either of your arms to ward both your solider and the woman.

"Lower your weapon and I will order her to stand down" You reasoned.

She looked at you a bit unsure. "Who are you?"

"Y/N Princess of Talokan daughter of Namor" You answered not missing the look exchanged between her and Shuri. "Obviously neither of you were aware of my existence until now. But that hardly matters your Queen knows me and delivered me back home. I owe her a great debt so I will allow the Princess and the young girl to leave with you without a fight. All I ask is that you lower the weapon."

"Princess" the soldier called out in a worried voice.

"Let her go you will be fine I promise I will not let death befall you" You swore turning to her. She gave you a slow nod and released Shuri before taking a step back.

The woman slowly pointed her gun at the cave floor. She motioned for Shuri and Riri to come to her keeping her eyes trained on you.

You let both of them pass by you without lifting a finger or a word.

"Thank you" Shuri said as the woman yanked on her hand.

"You're welcome I will do my best to keep my father at bay" You replied waving goodbye.

Nakia didn't know why you were here, and while she couldn't be sure this wasn't a trap. That action right now made her want to give you the benefit of the doubt. "Let's all just relax."

"You told me you would keep him under control y/n what happened?" Shuri demanded. Her voice distraught filled with pain.

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

"You let him kill her my mother is gone because you failed." She continued pushing past Okoye only to be held back by Nakia.

"Get her out of here" Okoye ordered.

It would seem positions didn't matter as Ayo turned to grip you by the arms pushing you away. "Let's go."

"No just let me try." You stood your ground planting your feet, and your body didn't budge another inch.

"Take her to a cell Ayo" Shuri ordered. A venom in her voice now replacing the pain.

You cursed in your language under your breath running a hand through your hair. You knew this outcome was a possibility, but was hoping it wouldn't come true.

"Shuri you act with haste without thinking maybe we sh-" Nakia began, but was silenced with a glare.

"She is Namor's daughter and his only blood. My mother was the only family I had left in the world. She is lucky I don't order her death right where she stands. After what her father did."

"No child should pay for the sins of their parent" Nakia told her.

"Killmonger did" she shot back.

"He paid for your father's sins as did T'Challa look how all that played out sister." Nakia continued to push.

"Stop defending her" Shuri shouted breaking free of her grip. "General I told you to take her away."

The use of her positional name got her attention, and the warrior shot you an apologetic look. You nodded and turned around letting her lead you with a hand on the small of your back.

Two Days Later

You lost track of time laying down on the cot provided to you in the decent size cell. There was no windows in the room letting you know when day came and night passed. But at least you were comfortable and somewhat fed thanks to Ayo and surprisingly Nakia. Both brought you food leaving it outside the bars.

Your father had to be worrying himself to death by now, and it was a miracle he hadn't come for you yet. Which meant your plan to throw him off your real location worked. You asked one of the few guards truly loyal to you more than your father to lie, and tell him you ran away to one of the old kingdoms. There a great deal of them spread across the oceans from all the times Talokan had to be moved in order to avoid discovery by humans. Some were still in great condition and was actually fun to return to. While others that weren't built by vibranium had succumbed to the nature of the water.

You would journey to them often just to reminisce the past. Namor hated it whenever you did disappear on your little adventures.

The main entrance door opened and the last person you expected to visit you walked through it. Riri Williams.

"Did you come here to gloat?" You asked sitting up with your back against the wall.

Riri shook her head holding up something in her hand that you couldn't really make out. While the cell wasn't completely shrouded in darkness. It lacked a significant lighting source. "I brought you some snacks the best on Earth if you ask me." Riri stopped at your cell and took a seat on the floor. She pushed some items towards you the paper crinkling, but you made no move to get it.

"You know I actually did feel sorry for you at first but then I thought about it." Riri began opening a candy bar of her own.

"And" you said in a lazy voice.

"I just thought what dumbass would walk straight into enemy territory trying to negotiate. After her father killed the leader right in front of her daughter and closest friends. I mean I know not everyone is as smart as me but I just thought it would be common sense to anyone to steer clear. After something like that like do your people not believe in that or something. I'm serious did daddy not give you the political breakdown of war."

You couldn't help but burst out into laughter at her ramblings. It should have offended you to some degree, but the face that you and her thought the same thing of. Your reckless actions amused more than anything, and you needed a good laugh. Eventually when your laughter died down you crawled forward to take the strange snacks. "You know what if this is poison I don't think I mind at all."

Riri grinned. "Its chocolate and chips not poison well how do you feel about calories?"

"I love them" you replied eyeing the substance covered in dark brown wrapping with the word Hershey's on it. The name tugged at a long forgotten memory in the pit of your brain. "I think I had this before."

The young scientist raised an eyebrow at that ready to question you. When the door opened again but this time it was Shuri in a Black Panther Suit.

One look was all that the young girl needed to get the memo. She got up with a small wave and left the two of alone.

"No handcuffs" Shuri mused.

"I would've broken them" you told her breaking off a piece of the chocolate bar. You let it the sweet flavor of the candy coat your tastebuds melting on your tongue.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" Shuri demanded.

Her question didn't faze you in the slightest. "Because you need me Princess."

"I figured out your father's weakness on my own I have no use of you" she said shrugging her shoulders.

"You shouldn't go down this path Princess it won't do you any good in the long run."

"Oh please" Shuri scoffed with a look of disdain. "How would you know?"

You got to your feet and walked to the front of your cell placing both hands on the cell bars. Leaning your head forward to look her in the eyes. "My father didn't always hate humans you know. My mother was one."

The bomb you just dropped on her made her trip over her own feet despite her new abilities. She shook her head in disbelief. "No Namor said his name stood for no love because he has no love for the surface world. Your father hates all humans you're lying."

"No I'm not I just take more after him than her. He always said it was the effect of moving underwater and drinking whatever concoction his advisor whipped up for me. A very long time ago my father fell in love with a human woman, and they had me. She opened his eyes to the beauty the surface world had to offer. Before my father was only indifferent to humans and knew it was crucial that the governments never discovered our existence. But my mother was slowly changing his perspective."

Shuri was a bit interested in the story even if she wasn't sure if she believed it or not. "Go on what changed."

"My mother was murdered." You told her in a monotone voice.

Her eyes widened and for the first time Shuri regarded you with sympathy.

"I was only a toddler when it happened. I don't remember how it happened or much about my mother till this day. Namora had to tell me the story because my father refuses to speak of it. Men raided the village my mom lived in on this island near Talokan at the time. She was running with me tucked to her chest, trying to make it to the ocean. Some of my people believed she prayed to my 6 he heard it, but she was struck down with two bullets right as she reached the shore. Dad arrived a few seconds short of being able to save her, and he watched as the love of his life died in a pool of blood. Cradling his child in her arms that were reached out towards the water like a desperate plea. That was the day the man, without love, was born."

"How long ago was this?" Shuri asked in a hazy voice as she tried to process your entire story.

You gave your shoulders a small shrug. "I can't really remember Princess."

"How old are you?"

"Not as old as you think but not as young as I look" You answered.

"Can't you give me a real answer?" She asked in exasperation. "Look I'm sorry about your mother but that doesn't excuse your father's actions."

"I never say it did I was just pointing out how he let the decision of a few bad men influence his whole view on the entire world. The surface world doesn't deserve my father's rage, as my people nor do I deserve yours. But if you can't see that because you're blinded by rage. Nothing I say will convince you to spare me Princess Shuri." You explained leaning backward for a second.

"But Namor doesn't" she declared angrily.

"I never said he didn't now did I?" You shot back.

"You wouldn't seek out revenge if I killed your father" she chuckled in disbelief.

You fixed her with a hard look before answering. "I watched as vengeance consumed my father and turned him into a man I can hardly love sometimes. I watch now as it consumes you and makes you act with such haste not considering your very own people. The ones you wanted so badly to protect when you visited Talokan and tried to reason with my father. Do you really think I would be foolish enough to let it do the same to me?

Shuri knew you were making good points but could hardly fathom the idea of. You not trying to kill her if she took Namor away from you. "You have no love for him."

"He is the most precious person to me in this entire world, but not more so than my people who I swore to protect and care for. Talokan would fall without a true leader" You reminded her.

"They would seek out war as well" she argued.

"Not all of them nations aren't just made up of people but civilians who can't fight as well. Some of the army will stay loyal to me, but yes others would seek out vengeance."

Shuri took a deep breath turning her back to you as she contemplated everything you had said. Wakanda's armies were ready to go at sunrise to put the plan in motion. But she had to figure out what to with you first. Nakia pushed her too hear your proposition at least. And now she was regretting it as you made her question all of her decisions.

"Princess I only want peace that's all I ever wanted" You whispered knowing she would hear you.

"I use to want that" she murmured blinking away tears.

"Come here" you called out to her softly.

You wasn't sure if she was going to listen but curiosity won out, and indeed she walked forward to the cell bars. There was about an inch of space between your bodies. Your hand reached through the bars and rested on her chest palm forward over her beating heart.

Shuri looked up not pulling away from the contact instead she locked eyes with you. An overwhelming feeling of warmth invaded her body betraying the storm trying to continue to rage. As your eyes bored into hers breaking through her defenses.

"Deep down past all the steel walls you built after losing your brother and mother. Past all the hatred you harbor for the world and my father. You still want peace Shuri I know you do sometimes when my father looks at the only picture of my mother in his possession. I see the man he was before the world took his love away from him. A man I never met but I know exists inside of him somewhere. The same way I'm seeing the person you were before the world turned against you as well. She is happy, kind, has the most beautiful smile in the world, and wants to help people in her own way."

Shuri took a step back with tears falling from her eyes at the way you spoke so softly. She wasn't going to let you take this away from her. "I will release you and allow you to provide us with aide. But you will not interfere with my fight with Namor understood?"

You nodded with a saddened look. "You and my father must find your own way back. If one or both of you die. I will mourn but I will not seek vengeance."

Shuri moved forward to slip the key in and open your cell door. You took a step out and began to follow her back into the palace.

[thisfanisgonesorry]

hi if you're still taking requests, I can't get the idea of arthur somehow being in the epilogue, alive and thriving, working on the ranch with john and his family and just being happy

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!! omg thanks for the req <3 i hope u enjoy it cutiepie, sorry it took me a lil bit

ending cowrote by @megbimbo loml

tags: yall are in the epilogue, making this an xreader since im basically useless if i dont but its light so dw, canon deviation obviously, high honor arthur. very angsty because my little gremlin brain could not just make him healthy but HE IS HAPPY!! MY BOY IS A HAPPY CAMPER!!; i usually write 1st person but i got possessed so heres a 2nd person fic (never doing this again, sorry if its shit), genderneutral but implied fem reader. milking the cows was the most pleasurable part of the epilogue after the absolute shitshow i had to endure that was chapter 6. arthur milks the cows for that exact reason. some medical terms i know that probably werent viable to use back in the day but idc. some cowboy stuff i learnt as a wee lass when i had a horsey. so many tags ill shut up now. (i got sad at the end of the fic because i realised you cant kiss him. that made me sad.) also water pump distance ref because its.. not as close as i thought it was.

♡

You and Abigail tended the house while Arthur and John were outside, doing god knows what, their manly chores. Jack and Uncle had a day trip to Blackwater, running errands and such, getting groceries, the works. Jack needed to get out of the house and Uncle needed to get out of doing work.

“I’ve got this.” Abigail spoke, taking the plate from your hands. A brisk nod and you wandered off outside to check on the boys, mostly worried for Arthurs wellbeing, as you tended to be. As the years dragged on, the remaining gang had been accustomed to not treat Arthur like he was fragile, which often than not, resulted in him being injured or overworked in some capacity or another.

You knew well enough that John would take care of Arthur and not work him to exhaustion, especially in this blazing heat, but nursing him back to health after things went south all that time ago wasn’t an easy job, and when they were building the house, he had a pretty bad flare up. 

There was a slight sound of wheezing coming from the distance, your ears perked slightly, rushing down the main steps and looking around. You could vaguely see them over by the water pump in the distance.

Arthur was sitting on the ground, John hovering over him, rubbing his back slowly as Arthur coughed and spluttered. You rushed over to them, evidently worried.

“What happened?”

John looked over to you, softly speaking. “He pushed himself too hard.”

“Yeah.” He spluttered. “I’ll be fine.”

You kneeled beside Arthur, rubbing his back as John pulled away to fill the bucket with water to continue their water run, also so Arthur could take a handful and drink some, hopefully hydrating his throat enough to stop him from tearing his oesophagus. 

Water Runs; They were dreaded, the water buckets would get heavy, and in heat like this, you’d need to do the runs multiple times a day to keep the animals hydrated. It got worse if the water troughs were under direct sunlight, the amount depended on the day, the weather and the animals, but the horses needed the extra water this summer, as did the sheep and the cows. All around, it was an awful chore.

Arthur, being the horse lover he is, would be quite adamant in keeping the horses up during the heat, making sure they’re okay. Though, because of the humid air, it was causing his illness to worsen. He slurped up a handful of water, and his coughing let up slightly.

“You need to rest.” You spoke firmly, as John picked up the bucket and walked it over to the remaining troughs, walking over into the sheep pen so he could keep a keen eye on Arthur momentarily. 

“I know, I know.” He groaned. “John and I have a lot of things to do.”

“This is John’s ranch, not yours. Sit down for a bit.”

“But the horses—”

“But nothing. You can care for them later this evening.”

Your voice hung in the air sternly and he pouted like a child, he needed to sit down and rest, to be removed from the hot and muggy air. Once the blazing sun begins to set and the air begins to cool, he would be allowed to go back to his duties. 

John waddled back over with the bucket, filling it up but lingering before he delivered it to the other animals. “Don’t worry, Arthur. I can do this on my own.”

“I want to help.” He spoke sternly, trying to stand up but weakly clutching his chest as he required the aid of you and John to get to his feet.

“How many other chores have you got today?”

John took the conversation away from Arthur, now more than just on board with the concept of letting him sit down and rest for a while. “Just the water, feeding, and milking the cows.”

“I can milk the cows.” Arthur objected.

You sighed, looking over at him, knowing he would rather keel over than be useless. He was a helper; for as long as he’s been known by any of the people on this ranch, he’s always been willing to help people. His need to work died down drastically since he’d been adopted to live on the ranch, but that didn’t mean the lack of drive didn’t eat away at him.

John raised his hands in a defeated shrug. “Let him milk the cows.”

“Fine, but I’m keeping a close eye on him.”

“That’s probably for the best.” John shrugged, with his shoulders this time, grunting as he picked up the bucket, continuing the water run. 

Arthur had a horrendous side eye on him, though he restrained the urge to say something snarky, “I can do this on my own.” He spoke instead, as he began to stride his way to the barn. 

“I know.” You responded, following behind him. 

He seemed upset at the sudden switch of attitude, even after all this time, he wasn’t used to people treating him like he was sick. For the most part, people didn’t, but, for equal parts, he didn’t often tell people that he was sick, instead playing to be super cautious whenever around anyone new.

He took a seat on the stool beside the cow and you stood behind him, leaning against the pillar.

“I’m fine.” He reassured as he slowly milked the cow, the metal panging sound of the bucket being hit with liquid filled the barns silence.

“I know.” You repeated quietly, not really paying attention to the words leaving your mouth. “Jus’ making sure you’re okay, we’re bein’ careful, ‘s all.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I know you want to act like you’re okay, but you’re not. You’ve had a few close calls. We’re just trying to keep you...” You trailed off, not wanting to say the blunt words that weighed heavy. We’re trying to keep you alive.

He stayed silent as John slowly opened the barn doors, entering almost silently and taking the milk pail as it filled to the top.

“I’ll deal with this.”  He said briefly, leaving us quietly to continue our discussion.

Arthur stayed painfully silent as your words lingered heavily in the air, John was quick to disappear into his jobs, and Arthur stayed on the stool, petting the cow softly.

“I get it.” He spoke after a long pause of silence. “I’m sorry, I just...” He rotated his hands in a motion to gesture the continuation of his sentence, not really wanting to finish it himself.

“Just come inside for a bit.” 

He sighed in defeat, standing up from the cow and patting her softly as he removed himself from her side. He really suited this life, and it’s a darn shame that he can’t do too much with it. 

He walked inside slowly, dragging his feet. 

“Don’t get sulky.”

Uncle and Jack returned from Blackwater, pulling up in the wagon. Abigail had left the house to greet them and assist them while John did god-knows-what, something or other to do with the milk. 

Jack and Uncle were having a conversation, or maybe an argument, about something in Blackwater, and they were asking Abigail her opinion as they unpacked the back of the wagon. 

Arthur didn’t necessarily expect anyone to understand the struggles he had to deal with, he was dealt a poor hand, and partially, it was his fault. His days were numbered, and despite the unconditional love and support that everyone offered him, it only did so much into elongating that timer. It was a silent rule that we all knew it’d happen, and once it did, we’d most likely all point fingers on who’s to blame.

“Arthur.” Jack called out, grabbing his attention from his dreary thoughts and tossing him a fresh notebook. It lifted his spirits almost immediately. “I noticed your old one was getting full.” He responded plainly.

“Thanks, kid.” He smiled, still very clearly unwell and needing to rest but his mood had been lifted slightly. He walked through the front door quickly, wanting to get through before they’d be rushing things to and from inside the house. 

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a cold glass bottle of water, looking over at you begrudgingly as he sat down on the dining room table and flipped through the soft new pages of the notebook.

“Any idea what you’ll do with it yet?”

He shook his head plainly. “No, I might draw some of the horses. Been a while since I drew Boadicea, or Rachel.” He shrugged. “Could draw Neil if he’d stand still.”

“That’s good.”

“Might go up to Owanjila at some point.”

“You could make a day of it.”

“Yeah, I could.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Can you stop doing that?” You cursed at him, agitated by how he was acting. “Don’t get upset at me over this.”

“I was fine.” He gritted his teeth.

“You were on the ground struggling to breathe.” You bit back, emphasising every word. He didn’t respond, just glancing away from you. He knew you were right, but didn’t want to admit it since it was inherently showing more weakness. “You...” You trailed off briefly.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, interjecting the conversation. “Jus’.. Don’t wanna be useless.”

“You’re not useless, you’re sick.”

“I know but—”

“Don’t you even try to compare yourself to Uncle.” Arthur stayed silent as you hit the nail on the head. “You did enough work today. Relax. Draw, journal, something. You have a few hours until the sun sets.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What?” He was beginning to come across as overly defensive, though softened into a defeated sigh as you tried to compromise.

“Abigail gets angry at me, she don’t like how I do the dishes or clean clothes.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll pro’lly try to help with the yard work. You can do more with less hassle.”

“I guess.” He shrugged.

“Weather forecasts think that it might rain sometime this week, means less work here, we can go to Owanjila.” He wasn’t too keen on it being babysat but he accepted it nonetheless.

“That’d be kinda nice...” He trailed off.

“We can do some fishin’ so they don’t think we’re bein lazy.” It was clear who the ‘they’ was in that sentence, which made him laugh in a silent exhale. “You can draw some of the scenery, set up a mini camp and just.. Have a day off. Hows that?”

“But—”

“Stop. You need to stop.”

“I’m bored!” He said, clearly agitated and exhausted. “I need something to do, ‘nd everyone jus’ wants me to rest but I gotta do somethin’ or I feel like shit.”

“I just suggested something.” I said sternly.

He looks around the dining area, chewing the inside of his cheek as he considers the idea. He sucked on his teeth slightly.

“Tch... Fine.” He admitted, like a defeated child.

There’s a long moment of silence, and you reach across the table to hold his hand. He continues to avoid eye contact, and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. 

Arthur’s voice is barely above a mumble; so sulky for a man so strong, or so he claims to be. Your eyes flickered between his gaze and him, waiting for him to speak. Arthur, desperate to look literally anywhere else, found himself staring at John’s taxidermied squirrel. If you didn’t know any better, one would probably assume he’s admiring the finest piece of art the 1900s has to offer. He seems to linger on the concept for a while, which worries you. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that mind of his.

The silence blares in your ears for a bit too long. Clearing his throat, Arthur looked you in the eyes.

“We’ll see how things go.”

[booburry]

Double Trouble Dieter Bravo x F!Reader x Javi Gutierez One Shot

Cont. of Pivot

Summary: Dieter & Javier Gutierrez are working on an upcoming project together and, to help with their creative process, they are spending more time together. The first time you meet Javi, it started with an intimate dinner and ended with the three of you in bed.

Tags (I have probably missed some): No use of Y/N, Dieter & Reader established relationship, Sober Dieter, Dieter still being chaotic, Javi being soft and seduced, Reader being a switch, oral (male & female receive/give), two boys kissing and a little more, DPV, Threesome (duh), Possessive!Dom Dieter, Passionate!Praising Javi, Quickie, Tiny bit of Sub!Dieter, Dieter still being soft outside of sex, Dieter being Poly, Pet Names, Spanish Pet Names, Reader speaks Spanish (writer does not), one single and much needed use of 'Papi', Author is in no way capable of speaking Spanish, was literally told by her Spanish teacher to drop the class to better spend her time doing anything else, and used copious amounts of various google searches to try to ensure it's accuracy while providing absolutely zero guarantees...except for 'Papi'.

A/N: Real quick, I never meant for it to be this long but I don't apologize for it lol. I want to be bold and say you will all love it, while also being too nervous to see if you do...these men have obviously taken a hold of me. I have also become obsessed with the idea of these three becoming a throuple and I greatly intend on making this a 'Slice of Life of the Rich & Famous' series. 65/35 split of smut to plot lol. As always, feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it ♥♥♥

Word Count: 17.3k... Thank you @cafekitsune for the banners

“Dieter! Dieter!” Another reporter called him over as you both stepped away from finishing a different interview—how many you had done at this point? Countless, and quite honestly, you didn’t entirely care to keep track. The only thing your eyes, body and mind wished to keep track of was looking at Dieter in his purple velvet suit that swirled with a beautiful pattern of roses done in black velvet. His beard and mustache were the perfect mix of messy and neat, his untamed curls in full form on top of his head, and a bright white pocket square that had made you crazy when he placed it in there.

It was always the stupidest shit that turned you both on with the other—or maybe Dieter and you were just always horny and perpetually DTF for the other.

Oh, and of course the man went nowhere without his signature sunglasses. ‘You can never get rid of the sunglasses, Dieter!’ his agent had told him after the Documentary boomed, followed by all of the paparazzi photos of him in his housecoat and sunglasses. It was now part of his ‘brand’ and despite how much that concept sickened Dieter, he played along. He admitted he was able to stomach some aspects of what he frequently called the ‘circus shitshow’ of the biz.

Dee guided you towards the woman holding an E! News microphone, his free hand reaching up to cover yours that rested on his arm. You knew he couldn’t walk away from any interview request, bound by contract as his agent had become quite savvy with keeping little, to no, loop holes that let Dieter get out of press and promotion work.

But that also meant his contract usually held very broad terms her agrees to in regards to press and promotional tours and award shows if he isn’t nominated. Thankfully his agent wasn’t an absolute shithead and bent to Dieter’s will when he really didn’t want to do something. For everything you disliked about him, you could agree and confidently say that he cared about Dieter’s wellbeing…he just cared more about keeping him famous, in demand and constantly bank rolled.

It was the reason he flew out to LA next week to record some voiceover for Netflix on some documentary series. Dieter promised you, when he told you about taking this job, that he would make sure to do the closest to his bedroom voice as they would allow. That made you forgive you for leaving you alone for a few weeks while he took care of a stack of work his agent had set up for him while he was in the states.

You saw a lot of phone sex and video calls in your future. A thought that did not make dealing with the constant interviews any easier.

Sensing your tenseness, and always ensuring to be soft and gentle with you in these moment, Dieter gave your hand a small squeeze, bringing you out of your thoughts to look up at him and see him smile at the reporter but you knew, from that squeeze, it was for you.

He knew you hated the sudden spotlight on yourself, on your past life, and your growing relationship with Dieter that came with the release of the documentary. He knew that these events made you feel tense and nervous, and he knew the only reason you attended was because of how much he needed you to be there for him. He knew you put on a brave face, being ‘a model actor’ as he would tease you, and happily play the role of the loving and supportive partner who embraced the spotlight.

It was the ‘embracing’ part that was incredibly difficult and where you needed to act. Loving and supporting Dieter was easy to do because you do love Dieter, you do want to support him and you were so unbelievably happy for his resurgence of recognition for his work because of this documentary and from the world seeing his fall from grace and his climb back up.

The world had fallen in love with him; his chaotic, honest, unabashed, self. Just as you had.

But that also meant the world had come to know you, and although quite a lot of them supported you both, even reached out to you and thanked you personally for saving Dee or for inspiring them to get help, there were a loud few who hated you for it. For being with him, and nothing else. It was shallow and you paid it no mind, until you were on the red carpets and suddenly you were self-conscious about what will be said of you after this. How would you be picked apart this time?

You ran your thumb along the bottom of Dieter’s hand, desperate for his comfort and immediately, as he settled in front of the reporter, he wrapped his arm around you and held you close to him, sensing and knowing how desperately you needed him as your pillar right now.

For all of the complaining he did about attending these events, he always thrived once in the moment. You always teased him for it and he always insisted he only enjoyed them because you were there. Together, you both stood strong.

“Elle from E! News.” The woman greeted the both of you as you finally approached.

“Hello, Elle, from E! News.” Dieter greeted with a cheeky smile and you knew his eyes were raking over her entire body behind his sunglasses—the thought helped you smile for the camera.

“Hi.” She said with a short and unintended pause as you saw her cheeks darken past the shade of her blush, obviously sensing Dieter’s depraved thoughts. “Um, the public has become enamoured with your story, seeing the rawness of your state throughout the documentary, seeing you rise from it. How does it feel to have that recognition and support?”

Dieter’s free arm swung to his side as he lightly rocked back on his feet, preparing himself to give a slightly varied answer to the same question he had been receiving all night.

“Well, Elle from E! News, I must say that it feels great and that it’s immensely appreciated. It’s one of the...many,” Dieter stressed the word with a dramatic swing of his head to look at you, the sudden and unexpected attention making you drop your gaze and try to suppress a bashful smile, “many, things that keep me on track in my life of sobriety.” He concluded and you could see from the corner of your eyes he was still looking at you, his adorable half-smile on his delicious lips—the same lips that had been between your legs on the limo ride here.

Despite what you wished to do, you knew you had been looking down for too long for this interview, and needing to avoid ridicule you raised your gaze to meet his, only to see his mustache twitch at your brave efforts.

“Yes!” The reporter continued as you and Dieter watched each other with a deeply loving gaze. “The public have also become openly supportive of the two of you! Especially after seeing the beginning and how it blossomed throughout the documentary. That steamy photo of the two of you in the pool.” Thankfully you had heard this story and topic enough to no longer blush when speaking about it publicly. Privately it was often used as an aphrodisiac between you and Dieter, but unlike him, you were not an exhibitionist for the camera and general public.

When you first realized it was going to be included, it enraged you knowing that the fucking cameraman had filmed god knows how much of your time with Dieter in the pool, now locked behind unaired footage. Despite your annoyance of this, however, it was a fact that only excited the shit out of Dieter. Something you had proof of as he had, during the showing at the premier, brought your hand over to feel his hard cock pressed against his pants when that moment was on screen.

But, by that point in time, his enjoyment of others watching him or him watching you with others was a well known and explored thing between the two of you, so it was no surprise what he had you feel at that moment. Shit, the first time you two had sex he told you he wanted others to hear how well he made you feel, how good he fucked you. In truth, it had become something you had started to enjoy more than you ever expected.

But not here. Not in these situations.

But at the premiere? Shielded in the darkness of the theatre? Well…you made sure to give his cock a short, loving squeeze before reaching up to pinch his chin, the auditorium chuckling with many eyes turning to you both when the pool clips had ended.

That part of the documentary was followed by some interviews of a few cast and crew saying how they had heard it happening, heard you, and that they all ran out to take a peek for when round two had started.

Round two was you riding Dieter on one of the lounge chairs after you both had lazily floated around the pool, giggling, flirting, and getting closer. Until the flirting got more serious and you were kissing more than talking, your hands starting to travel and take. When you felt how hard he was for you, how much he craved you…you had to take it for yourself.

It was with round two that you realized that despite how ferocious and possessive Dieter was with you, privately, he also loved little more than to be under you, submissive to you…your good boy.

Thankfully there was no footage of that, but the testimonials were enough to solidify that moment as a main talking point for Dieter in these interviews—which you didn’t mind as long as you didn’t have to be present for them.

“Yes, the famous scene…” Dieter cut in with a smile, his free hand reaching up once more to cover yours, giving you a small and loving squeeze, while his arm around your back steadied you. “What people don’t always focus on when thinking of that night, and let’s be real Elle from E! News...we all know what everyone is thinking about when watching that scene! But that night was the moment it all changed for me, this beautiful, amazing...” Dieter lightly shook his head, his eyes bulging as he seemed strained in thought, “there are no words to describe what she means to me, what she has done for me.” He confessed, kissing your cheek, purposefully lingering long enough for his mustache to tickle your skin and leave you with a smile.

“You have said in many interviews that she is the reason you attended treatment, is that right?”

“Yes!” Dieter almost yelled into the microphone. “A million times yes! Not only that, she helped me finally accept that what I was doing was...because I wasn’t addressing the things I needed to. I was heading for rock bottom and she allowed me to pause for a moment and pivot out of that trajectory. You...” Dieter paused a moment and you could feel his hand on yours lightly shake, the muscles in his body tense, as you knew the dreadful thoughts that seeped into his mind at this moment. “You would have a completely different man standing in front of you now if it wasn’t for her.”

Dee did a good job at keeping his voice level, but his tone was unmistakably solemn. However you could hear the strain, the tremor, the fear that encased those words.

It was the future that plagued him, the one he had been running towards while surrounded himself in chaos, the one that terrifies him to admit he wanted or felt deserving of at one point…horrified at the idea of slipping back to it.

It was those thoughts that always kept him up at night, the ones that had him weeping in your arms when he got out of rehab, and still to this day will occasionally do. Dieter was not normally one to be soft, especially when you first were together. It would have been easier to pull a tooth from his body, to have him go a month without sex, than have him talk about what was truly bothering him. Rehab thankfully helped that, and slowly since then it was easier for him to be more vulnerable with you, and you cherished every fucking moment he was.

“Well, I can confidently say that the world is grateful that you both found each other on the set of that film! Not only for the great cinema but because you both continue to seem more in love as the days go on!” Elle said in a cheery voice but you could feel the ice behind her words, the envy that it was you and not her. You just smiled as best as you could. “Last thing, Dieter, if I can?” Elle eagerly interjected as you were preparing to walk away. Dieter just raised his eyebrows and rocked his head forward to her.

Elle took a deep breath as Dieter got flirtatiously close, all while still holding onto your hand.

“There is buzz going around that you will be working with Javier Gutierrez on his next project, is that correct?” Dieter perked up at the question and you couldn’t help but smile, both at Dieter’s eagerness to answer a question he hadn’t gotten yet today and because of your own eagerness for that project.

“Yes!” Dieter answered enthusiastically. “I am very excited to work with Javi, he is a great guy, easy to get along with and it’s going to be a good time.”

“Some people are saying that there are already Oscar talks in regards to this film. What are your thoughts on that?” Dieter waited for the mic to be in front of his face to give an exaggerated groan.

“It’s a crock of shit—movie isn’t even written yet, how the fuck are they to know if it will be any good?” Dieter bit at the question and you tried very hard to not smile. You knew many would take Dieter’s words for saying the project could be shit, but it was because of his deep distaste for the ‘theatrics’ of the acting world that he snapped and bit back. He hated critics, reviews and all of that ‘shit’ while equally hating how fundamental it was to the success of a film.

Unfortunately, for Elle, she was one of those people who didn’t know what to do with Dieter’s response.

“Thank you both for your time!” She concluded with a small and awkward nod of her head but Dieter just dipped his body to catch her gaze before giving a soft and reassuring smile, putting on his charm for the camera and the woman.

“And thank you for yours, Elle from E! News. See you around.” He added in a way where you knew he would be asking you to bring her home sometime during the after-party of that evening's event.

--x--

“Our deal still stands, yeah?” You asked loudly as you put your last earring in, fluffing out your hair and checking every angle of your face to make sure your makeup was properly applied; there was no room to not look your best for tonight’s dinner.

“You really want to fuck him, huh?” Dieter called out from the bedroom, his voice echoing in a way that told you he was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, patiently (for now) waiting for you to get ready. You smiled as you did your tenth look over, slightly shifting your red silk dress so that it hugged all of your curves properly while draping where it should. The moment you started to think about how you would fuck yourself for looking this good you knew you were ready.

Dieter whined your name from the other room, deprived of your attention for more than a minute. His little protest did tempt you to make him wait a bit longer but you couldn’t do the same to your dinner date.

“Look at how I am dressed and answer that question.” You ordered Dieter as you walked into the bedroom, the dress draping at your feet, a small amount of fabric pooling on the floor but you knew his eyes were on the prominent slit that exposed your entire leg and thigh. His eyes fell on you, his intent to be dramatic and childish evident in his actions before he took you in and immediately leapt off the bed to snatch you into his arms.

“The answer is if he doesn’t fuck you, I will.” Dieter growled as he pulled you towards him, one arm wrapped around your waist, his lips to your neck and his other hand gripping onto the flesh of your bare and exposed thigh. His actions pulled a faint, shaken, gasp.

“Dieter…” you whispered as you let your head roll back, his lips moving from your neck down to the pillowy tops of your breasts, calling to him, pressed and positioned to already be slightly spilling from the top, demanding his attention.

His sloppy and wet kisses twisted your stomach and his soft, deliberate bites had you groan in boiling desire, already excited in anticipation of what tonight could bring, what you could get if you flirted well enough, but it was always the way Dieter grabbed you that made your pussy pulse uncontrollably.

Quickly you reached down to swoop the fabric of your dress as far from your body as possible before hooking your exposed leg over his hip, pulling on his hair so that his face was just below yours.

“You going to be a greedy, dirty boy and fuck me first, hmn?” You asked and Dieter immediately let out a whimper, his hungry and demanding gaze shifting into a soft, eager and submissive one. You used your leg to pull his body closer to yours and you could feel your wet pussy rest against his already rock-hard bulge. Lightly you pulled his hair a bit more while equally pressing into his cock. “You want to fuck me, don’t you? Want to rip this pretty dress off of my body, fuck me like a whore on the floor or restrained against a wall?”

You waited for him to respond as you grinded against him, yet all Dieter could do was let out a soft, satisfied, sigh as he closed his eyes. It was fucking irresistible.

“Take your fucking pants off and fuck me. Now.” You demanded of Dieter and his eyes shot open, his hands quickly moving to undo his belt buckle as he watched you with a deadly serious expression that only cracked when he harshly shoved his cock into you.

Your body lurched forward at the motion, but you knew better to recover for it was easier for Dieter to fuck you like this if he could control where and how your body swayed.

Instead, your lips found his earlobe and gave it a light nibble, coaxing from Dee an immediate groan and increase to his pace. Your hands traced over his face and neck, always moving, trying to grasp onto his skin or hooking your fingers into his beard and hair as you moaned into his ear.

“Your cock feels so good, baby.” You cooed as you swirled a nail on his cheek in a way you knew drove him wild, immediately feeling the effects of your praise. “You fuck me so good. Such a good boy, Dee. Such a…Fu-uck,” you stuttered, your head momentarily falling to his shoulder as Dieter fucked you with unbelievable ferocity, bending his body so that he could press into that place that always left you unravelled around him.

Your praise having a very immediate and physical response from Dieter.

“We do have a dinner to get to.” He teased, and despite you knowing there was no way he was going to leave here without feeling you twitch around his cock, you did not want to take any chances.

“Dee,” you growled before his thrust forced a moan from your lips, “you better fuck me until you make me come on that—” your speech was cut off with another thrust against your sweet spot, your head rocking back once again, “fucking godly cock.” You finished your sentence, your voice low and strained as your head fell as far back as it could.

Dieter’s mouth was immediately upon your throat, sloppy open-mouthed kisses mixed with grunts as he continued to rabidly fuck you like a dog in heat. Your throat closed as he brought the pleasure stirring within you to a boil, small choking gasps were the only sounds that could be let out until your body allowed you to scream in release, Dieter doing the same.

You melted around him and against him, feeling his release fill you as he twitched against your walls.

“Don’t you get any on my dress.” You growled a warning into his ear, your arms wrapped around his head as you held onto him for support. Dieter just chuckled and you smiled—he knew he would be in for some unpleasurable pain if he damaged something so beautiful of yours without your permission. “You are such a good boy, baby.” You praised him with another kiss to his temple. “Let me get cleaned up and we can get going.”

-x-

The restaurant Dieter chose for you all to meet was gorgeous, small and intimate, with only twenty tables, at most, within the establishment. The moment you walked past the entrance your eyes fell to the table in the center of the room where Javi sat, alone. His gaze perked up at the sight of you and Dieter and he immediately stood up, raising his hand as high as he could into the air and waved at you both—as if you were at risk of not seeing him.

Dieter took your hand to steady you as you descended the short set of stairs into the dining area. He always took it and never offered, a fact that would have made you smile if you weren’t already from how Javi reacted to you both. Looking down at the stairs helped hide your expression from both men and allowed you enough time to compose yourself.

Javi was ready with your chair out, helping you get seated and giving you an enthusiastic, suave, nod of his head, his smile spreading to impossible widths as he watched you before turning his attention to Dieter.

“It is so lovely for you two to join me, thank you.” He reached out and clasped Dieter's hands within his, providing a short, firm, and affectionate shake of their hands before he released them and sat back in his chair. “I hope you do not mind, I took the liberty of ordering some tapas—I was looking at the menu and getting hungry.” He explained softly, a light and shy smile given as an apology.

“Didn’t mean to be late.” Dieter responded and an immediate sign of relief showed in Javi’s expression when he realized that there was no upset with his forward action—an action that was entirely tame, domestic, by your standards, not forward in the slightest.

Cute. You thought to yourself with a sweet smile.

“Javi, this is—” Dieter began to introduce you but Javi sprang from his seat to kneel next to you, grabbing your hand in such a flurry of actions you were truly startled—even Dieter was stunned into silence and you couldn’t truly recall the last time that ever happened without you being fully naked, exposed and in an extremely creative and demeaning position.

“Dieter told me so many things about you, shown me so many photos yet you are more beautiful in person.” He greeted you earnestly before planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “I have to say before dinner begins, otherwise it will eat me from the inside, that I have fallen in love with the art Dieter has shown me of yours.” His confession had you snap your head to Dieter, a look of hurt and concern mixed into your soft emotions from receiving Javi’s praises.

Dieter knew how sensitive you were about your art, about it being shared with others, your fear of any chance of it being exposed and left for ridicule from the world.

“Do not blame him, princesa, I took his phone and looked myself. He only told me after how you did not wish this to be shared, and so I needed to apologize to you for I did not mean to offend such a beauty as yourself, but you must know that you have a gift that must be shared.” He rambled through his confession, still on one knee before you, your hand delicately held in both of his while his head took a dramatic dip. “It has been too long since my eyes have rested on something that evoked such passion. I needed to meet you, and I apologize for the secrecy of that agenda. Forgive me.” He begged you at the end, but his words left you utterly speechless.

Not only had he seen your art, the art you most likely had painted in your home studio, the art you had created from some of the most vulnerable places as you had worked through your own issues while Dieter started his sobriety, but was Javi confessing to orchestrating this dinner so he could meet you?

You couldn’t believe it.

Thankfully the waiters with the small appetizers arrived at the table, interrupting your ability to reply—even though you were still lacking the words. Javi moved back to his seat but his worried eyes did not leave yours. You glanced towards Dieter, who was simply acting as an amused bystander to the whole ordeal.

“I am glad my work could evoke such devotion.” You managed to murmur, looking at the table and feeling uncharacteristically bashful, as if you had a thousand cameras pointed at you, hundreds of microphones shoved in front of your face, demanding to know everything you were feeling. No man’s attention had ever stirred you like this. Dieter has done, and does, many things to you even with a single glance, tortures you, makes you crave for a single lick of his affection, but it never like this yearning—this sudden desperation and loss over something you never knew you needed, had or ever lost.

The temperament settled for a bit after that, food distracting you as the men diverted into discussing their movie and what they wanted it to be about. Two lost brothers, separated by birth in a war-torn country, reconnected as older men to rediscover themselves and what they had lost.

It sounded like a lovely story, an emotional concept and most definitely something that would carry ‘Oscar Buzz’ if done correctly—which you had no doubt these two brilliant minds would accomplish.

They continued with that conversation until dinner arrived, and Javi, once again, glanced at you with his shy smile.

“My apologies, mi amor. We did not mean to exclude you.” He apologized and proceeded to patiently wait for your response.

“Quite alright, you had to hold up the facade of why this dinner was originally requested.” You teased him with a wink, his cheeks immediately going crimson. Quickly, he glanced down at his plate and pushed his vegetables around with his fork.

“Indeed, I would not wish for someone to get the wrong idea.” Javi agreed lightly before shoving the vegetables he played with into his mouth, nervously chewing. You followed him, cutting a piece of your steak, swooping it into your mashed potatoes before placing it in your mouth. Your gaze did not leave Javi’s, you wanted to see how his expression pinched and shifted as you wrapped your tongue around your food to bring it into your mouth, a small smirk present as you chewed.

It was your smirk that seemed to make Javi realize he had been staring and he brought his attention back to the plate in front of his face.

“What would be the wrong idea, Javi?” Dieter called out to the shy man, his forearms fully laid out on the table, fork and steak knife in hand as he watched Javi curiously.

Javi’s mouth opened and then closed. He looked at you quickly and then back to Dieter. It was evident he didn’t know what to do, didn’t want to say what he had already alluded to—that he was here for you.

That he wanted you.

“Did Dieter tell you I spent a year in Spain?” You asked Javi, gently providing him with an out from the topic he wanted to avoid, a topic you would circle back to later, but for now, you needed to relax the poor man.

“No, he didn’t!” He informed, immediately falling into the trap of your question, or simply forgetting his previous worries while getting lost in your gaze and presence. Either option made you happy. “Please, tell me of it.” He asked politely yet his eyes begged you to share with him.

“Dénia es donde pasé mi tiempo.” You softly responded, telling him of the place you lived while there. “It was a lovely city that gave me a lot of healing and peace.” You added the last part in English so that Dieter did not feel completely left out of the conversation however the way Javi’s soul seemed to leap towards you when you spoke his native language could have ended you.

“Your Spanish, cariño...” Javi whispered as he shifted his body to fully face you, a slight quiver to his wide, puppy dog, eyes. “You should never have to speak another way.” Javi paused, his mouth open, little twitches giving the impression he still had something else to say, which he eventually got out. “Háblame así te lo ruego.” He whispered his plea, his spoken beg, for you to speak to him in his native tongue.

No person, no matter how strong their will was, could resist such a sweet request from an even sweeter man.

Immediately you and Javi dove into a fast paced conversation, Spanish rolling off your tongue as if it was your native language, Javi’s eyes widening as he engaged with you.

Dieter immediately started drumming his fingers against the table with impatience. He managed to hold in his words a lot longer than you thought he would, given how quickly he becomes pouty when you flirt with other men.

“I don’t fuckin’ speak that,” Dieter interjected, Javi’s eyes immediately darting to look at him as he leaned back into his chair—you hadn’t noticed how close you both had leaned into each other. With a smirk, you gracefully turned to look at Dieter.

“I would think for a piece like this, you would learn his language.” You pouted to him playfully, but something in the base of your belly screamed at how you would love to hear that beautiful language come out of that man while he had you under him—all the degrading and dirty ways Dee would speak to you. Javi enthusiastically agreed with a solid and excited ‘Yes!’, regarding Dieter learning Spanish, but neither of you heard him.

You watched as Dieter initially rejected the idea almost immediately, knowing he would have to put a substantial amount of effort into something that was for a single role. It had been a part of his re-instated values for himself when returning to acting while ensuring his sobriety. He wasn’t going to deep dive into the method, and he wasn’t going to get lost in it…he needed to always want to be grounded within himself—or within you.

But as you just watched him, line after line of what you wanted to hear Dieter say passing from one ear to another, you felt your body fill with an insatiable lust for something you could not have but desperately wanted. It was the subconscious bite of your lower lip that made Dieter shift his expression, suddenly realizing that there was a reason to learn such a thing beyond a single role, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

“What do I get out of it?” He asked you, his words quick, voice low to match the darkening behind his gaze and the flare of his nostrils, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards. You smiled, feeling like you had managed to lure Dieter and catch him with your request, now you just had to reel him in.

Slowly you leaned forward, lifting your body from your seat so that the tips of your noses were almost touching. While Dieter was fully focused on you, the world around you two most definitely melding away in his mind, you were very mindful of Javi’s gaze on you both and you couldn’t help but wish to catch two fish with one net.

“You show me what you do with that mouth,” you whispered, your finger raising to run over Dieter’s cracked lips as your eyes followed, before snapping your gaze back to meet his, “and I promise to show you something new I can do with mine.” You saw the relaxation within Dieter’s gaze, a momentary release from the tension you knew was building within his body, satisfied with your terms.

You knew it drove him wild when you would act forwardly in any public setting, especially one as intimate as this, with little to allow you to hide. Dieter’s gaze held a promise he would later show you how satisfied your words left him feeling.

“Wow!” Javi exhaled the word like it was his last, exasperated, breath and it reminded you and Dieter to pay attention to the other member of this dinner party. You turned to apologize, wanting to be polite yet desperate to know if you had caught two fish with your little display, and as you saw Javi watch you with childish awe and excitement, you knew it had worked.

His eyes washed over your body as his eyebrows fell into rest as he continued to soak you up, a soft and shy smile twitching across his lips before he looked at Dieter.

“I now understand, my friend, what you meant when we first met.”

All Dieter did was provide a shrug full of self-satisfied pride as you rested back into your chair, brazenly crossing your legs in a way that let both men have a peek at what lay beneath your silken dress—nothing but your beautiful, delicious, soaked and well fucked, pussy.

They both could not help but look, Dieter naturally adding flares and dramatics to his motions, while Javi briefly unabashedly stared before locking eyes with you and giving a few soft, short, and shy nods before quickly casting his gaze to the ground.

It brought a satisfied and endearing smile to your lips as you reached out a hand to rest it on top of Javi’s, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. It felt impossible how soft his sun-kissed skin was, how warm his hands felt under yours—it all matched his aura and demeanour.

Truly, the man was more enamouring than you could have ever imagined and you could tell the gesture was something he greatly appreciated and responded to based on how lost and lonely he looked when you withdrew your hand, turning your gaze back to Dieter who seemed to be watching the same thing.

“You saying sweet things about me, love?” You ask with a false sense of surprise, Dieter softly laughing before gesturing an open hand towards Javi.

“You wanna tell her what I said?” He asked, pitching his chin to his chest to be able to look at the man above his sunglasses. That posture alone always made your nostrils flare so you could breath deep enough to stop your heart and pussy from beating too fast.

But when you saw how you saw Javi squirmed at the question? Well, that made your thighs clench and pussy unequivocally quake.

His eyes darted to you as you leaned towards him, purposefully positioning yourself so your plump breasts were pushed up and within anyone’s vision if they were to look at your face. You watched as his throat slowly clenched as he strained to swallow, the tight shirt he wore giving away to the short and shallow breaths he was allowing himself as he gained the faintest red hue to his complexion. With a final, sharp, breath, he looked back at Dieter as if to clarify if he should.

Your eyes did not leave Javi, so you had no idea what Dieter did, but you assumed it was a gesture or mouthed words, for Javi hesitantly looked back at you while bearing a grave expression as if he was about to tell you one of your loved ones had passed away.

It swirled a storm in your stomach to see innocent Javi torture himself over whatever Dieter told him about you, which would have been nowhere near the worst and most degrading things he has said about you or to you. Yet you could see it tear your sweet Javi apart from the inside, afraid to hurt or offend you while what his vision soaked in evoked an opposite desire.

You slowly reached out and placed your hand on his.

“Whisper it to me in Spanish, Javi.” You softly asked of him, your gaze not leaving his while giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. You could see it twist him on the inside before giving a few short, shallow, nods of his head.

“Now I really understand what you meant.” He spoke as if out of breath, his chest rising and falling as one would from running a marathon, yet he still did not repeat the things Dieter said.

“You still haven’t told me what sweet praises Dieter said about me…” You whispered this time as you dragged your index finger over his hand and up his arm, lightly pressing your pointed nail into his skin. Suddenly Javi grabbed your hands and cradled them within his, pulling you from how you had yourself positioned so that he could look at you directly with nothing but an earnest and soft expression of admiration.

“Encantadora...” He whispered to you, but you knew that wasn’t what Dieter had told him because, among the many things he called you that you loved to hear, he would have never described you as ‘enchanting’. “He said you are like a pheromone, irresistibly beautiful and bright, a star from the sky among the mortal man.” Javi continued to whisper to you words you knew definitely would not have come from Dieter’s lips, and the realization of that evaporated your bravado as you suddenly became soft and entranced under Javi’s gaze and praises.

Briefly, the sound of Dieter’s sarcastic, amused, sharp laugh pulled you from Javi, but he squeezed your hands while his face tracked yours as it moved, his eyes always pinned to yours, a soft smile on his delicious lips.

“I did not think a person like that could exist but I finally understand why he made such claims...” Javi admitted, raising a hand briefly to kindly and gratefully gesture towards Dieter before turning his attention back to you. “Look at you, hermosa, in all of your glory.” He whispered his praise as he continued to acknowledge you with unimaginable awe and disbelief.

The words and expressions were too much, causing you to widely smile and uncharacteristically pull your hand away to cover your face, overwhelmed and extremely bashful from all of his compliments. Silence lingered for a moment, Javi’s hands still gripping your single one, his thumbs delicately drawing circles over the back of it which only caused you to blush harder.

“No…shit!” Dieter exclaimed with a small slam of the table, quickly realising his antics and apologizing to the others around them. He leaned into the table, you barely seeing him as you continued to cover your face and look down, trying to search and sense what was going on in your body and mind. “This needs to fucking happen.” He demanded, stabbing his finger into the table with an intense amount of purpose. You felt Javi release your hand and sit back, worried he may have done something wrong while you felt your own sadness at the loss of his touch.

A quick glance at Javi told you he was confused by Dieter’s demands, but you knew what Dieter was referring to.

“I do not understand, Mr. Bravo, we already agreed to the movie?” Javi asked as his face pinched into an adorable expression of innocent confusion, acting as if he had completely forgotten where you and he had been just a moment ago, what sparks were erupting between you two, the carnal desires stoked from your locked eyes.

Dieter just grunted, evidently annoyed with the sweet man’s innocent mind.

“Can’t believe you guys are—Javi, she wants you to fuck her.” He bluntly stated and you watched as Javi’s eyes widened beyond their natural stretch at Dieter at his claim before looking toward you. “Love, Javi obviously wants to fuck you…who wouldn’t?” He added the question with a hand lovingly and hungrily running down your back. “And now, I need to fuckin’ see it happen. So…cheque? Cheque, please!”

Dieter looked around the room to see many eyes were now on the three of you after his loud proclamations on how Javi and you wanted to have sex and how Dieter greatly wanted to watch.

“Yeah, yeah.” He groaned while waving a dismissing hand towards a table of four seniors who looked at him with complete disgust. “We’re almost out of here, we just need our CHEQUE! PLEASE!” Dieter bellowed and you had to hide your grin, knowing his fury simply came from his pent-up sexual excitement and tension.

To see you openly flirt with another man, to see you position yourself for him, for that man to show interest in you…that was all a part of the normal fun and games. What seemed to have sent Dieter over the edge into this lustful rage was seeing how Javi’s words affected you in a way his never had.

Thankfully you knew it wasn’t jealousy that fueled his immediate requirement to depart, to see you fucked by his Spanish doppelganger, but was due to the thrill, the adrenaline, along with a growing, desperate, need to see it happen.

He was about to open his mouth to yell again when a waiter ran to his side with the bill. Dieter put his card down on the tray, immediately groaning when the waiter fumbled at the machine.

“Charge whatever, I don’t care. Comp everyone who I fucking offended, how’s that?” He stressed his last word as if taunting the four seniors, ensuring to look directly at the women who still regarded him with sheer horror while the men smiled and waved their thanks—much to their wives dismay. “Here’s my signature…” Dieter grabbed the pen from the waiter’s jacket as Javi got up to pull out your seat and gracefully help you up. “Charge whatever the fuck you want, tip generously, whatever, but don’t fuck me over.”

He glanced at the shaking waiter, who looked no more than twenty, over his sunglasses before squinting at his name tag.

“Kevin, is it?” He paused long enough for the kid to nod. “Don’t fuck me, Kevin!” Dieter stressed before walking away. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my card and receipt.”

And with that, the three of you left to return to the apartment you and Dieter shared. Despite the short walk it was, Dieter had a car called for you all, only so he could sit and watch as Javi couldn’t keep his hands and lips off of you, and Dieter couldn’t keep his hands off his hard and exposed cock.

--x--

Dieter opened the door for you and Javi, a man that you now only saw as the human embodiment of an excited puppy with a cat’s luck. On point, Javi burst past you as you entered, walking ahead of you to slowly twirl as he basked in the apparent glory and wonder of your home.

“It is a beautiful home you both have here.” He told you both earnestly, Dieter just shrugged as he locked the door and tossed his keys into the small glass bowl near the door. However you were not so aloof about the compliment, but perhaps that was due to Javi saying those words while looking at you as if he had suffered a lifetime of longing for this moment, for you.

Whatever peculiar charm this man held was potent, powerful, and had secured an iron grip on your being. For a brief moment, you felt fear run down your spine, chills cascading ripples of goosebumps over your exposed skin. Never had you been so enchanted, so held, except for Dieter…your sweet, lovely, Dee.

The thought had you glance to him, a hand immediately reached out and latching onto his arm as Javi’s back was turned to you, his body wandering to wherever his eyes took him. Dieter stopped what he was doing to look at you, and you could see his brows twist in concern to give away how his eyes watched you behind those sunglasses.

He opened his mouth to say something to you but Javi cut him off.

“I wish to ask you more about this, my friends, but may you direct me to your—”

“There is a bathroom that way, you’ll find the door.” Dieter pointed for Javi, who hurried off into that direction, the opening and closing of doors echoing to you and Dieter as he returned to look at you. “Tell me...” He asked of you softly, his hand molding to your jaw and cheek, his thumb softly rubbing your skin until your pinched expression softened and you eyes closed.

Soft were Dieter’s lips when they came to yours, a motion of support for you, and when he withdrew from you, he left a smile on your lips.

“Not going to even slip me tongue?” You asked him, feigning concern and placing the back of your hand to his forehead. Dieter just chuckled as he dropped his hand from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“You seemed upset.” He confessed with a small smile of his own. You hummed at him, playful yet feeling there was another reason he was being so sweet to you right now. Slowly you reached up and grabbed his sunglasses, enforcing your rule that within the walls of your home (balcony excluded) no sunglasses—there were also sex exclusions but those were given on a per-request basis.

“Being sweet on me, hmn?” You teased him, your lips parting as your smile grew until you gave a small, husky, chuckle of your own. Dieter scratched his beard while stretching and chewing his lower lip at your playfulness.

“Adorable.” He grumbled before untangling his fingers from his facial hair to hook behind your head, bringing you to him. This time his tongue did not ask for entry, did not coax, or negotiate, but demanded it. His hand continued to press you into him, his grip on your body tightening.

Dieter moaned into you as he became greedy with what he held, and it seemed that only when you both could no longer breathe did he release his lips from you. His firm and deliberate grip remained, allowing you to lay in his arms as you panted and gasped for breath.

“Scared you won’t be okay with just once with him, huh?” Dieter asked you, the breath you had managed to regain immediately snatched from your body.

He just smiled while slowly swiping his thumb over your lips as you continued to take short, shallow, panting breaths.

“I do not care if you have return visitors to our bed that are there for you, love. Just so long as you are okay with it.”  You smiled at his whispered words, joy soothing the chilled spots on your body, releasing you from that fear as you watched Dieter look at you with nothing but absolute love and devotion.

“‘Cause we know you are down for anything.” You slyly joked, trying to control the excitement of what was ahead of you, with Javi and Dieter, from returning to you like a burst dam.

“Right,” Dieter confirmed with a soft chuckle, giving you another soft kiss, this time ensuring to lick into your mouth once before pulling away, his mischievous smirk present as he watched you. “He’ll be good for you, don’t fight your feelings about it,” Dieter added as he glanced over to the sound of an opening door. “I know he isn’t me, I ain’t threatened. Besides, he’ll be able to give you, in there, what I don’t want to.” He whispered into your ear and you felt your eyes flutter closed at the heat of his breath, the press of his nose, the brush of his lips but the lick of his tongue as he pulled away was unfair, torterous, yet so on point for Dieter.

Your stomach clenched as that lick had your mind rush to thoughts of where else you wanted that tongue, easily imagining what that would feel like, but then quickly wondering what it would feel like to have Javi’s tongue on you. How would that feel? What would he do? Or enjoy doing?

The thought that hit you like a derailed train, however, was wondering how marvellous his cock would be, how it would feel in your hands, in your mouth, on your tongue, in your—

Javi walked around the corner, pulling you from your thoughts immediately as he was back in your sight. His eyes met yours and he gave you his soft smile. You never stood a chance, the gesture and gaze causing the excitement you had managed to hold at bay earlier burst within you with torrential force.

You needed this man now.

“The interior is all her.” Dieter spoke out loud, walking towards Javi having already changed into slippers and one of his many housecoats that lived and hung by the front door. He flashed an impish smile at you, causing yours to faltered for a moment.

Dieter also seemed to have a sense of how badly you wanted to fuck Javi, especially in this particular moment, and he was showing that he intended to toy with you.

“Don’t lie,” you corrected with a playful raise of your eyebrow, following Dieter and walking towards Javi, “you were very particular about our aesthetic and you vetoed anything you didn’t like.”

“Yeah, but you picked it all.” Dieter retorted, holding his arms up in surrender like there was no further discussion to be had and he was victorious.

“He does have a point, querida,” Javi informed you with a heavy amount of regret. He walked towards you to rub your arms sympathetically, wishing to soothe the wounds of you losing a point you never tried to win. However, you weren’t about to tell this man to not hold you so delicately.

Glancing at Dieter, you smirked, and immediately thought to take advantage of your position to ensure he couldn’t interfere with what you wanted.

You leaned yourself into Javi’s embrace, twisting so your chest was pressed against his, his hands which held you now resting in the small curve at the base of your back.

Your arms snaked around his body and you could hear his breath quicken at your movements—it was intoxicating.

“I have to admit, Javi,” you whispered into his ear, “I wish to go to a more private space.” You made sure to breathe slowly, to drag your lips against his skin before they puckered into a soft kiss. “¿Te unes a mí, Javi?” You felt your question cause him to shiver, his head slightly rolling away from where your lips had been before he stepped away from you.

“Yes!” He earnestly answered your question with wide eyes and his arms outstretched, confirming he would follow you where you wish to take him. But there was a hesitance behind his gaze that you saw, so you waited. “First I would…well, uh—it is a bit embarrassing.” Javi squirmed as he seemed to struggle to ask for what he wanted in this moment, what he wanted from you and Dieter, and it drew you in immediately.

Whatever made his man squirm at the thought of, you wished to give him. Truly, you wished to give every part of yourself to him.

Something that had previously only ever been given to Dieter.

“¿Qué pasa, Javi?” You whispered again as you reached out a hand to grasp onto his tightening arms that were pinched across his chest. “You can ask anything of us, we will not judge. Dee is down for most things.” You added with a smile, turning back to look at the man you so dearly love to see him equally smirk back at you.

“She doesn’t lie,” Dieter added, speaking directly to Javi. “About myself or that there is nothing you cannot ask in this place.” Javi gave a large nod, rocking his torso along with his head, as he appeared to be psyching himself up for what he was about to say.

You took the moment of his body returning from it’s physical nod to nestle your way into his arms again, your lips at the back of jaw, below his ear.

“I will give you every part of me, Papi.” You whispered your promise, laying yourself bare at Javi’s feet to feast on. To have, to take, to claim. The roar of Javi taking a steep inhale deafened you.

“Eres perfecto…” Javi whispered, his lips soft as they pressed against your neck. “Una diosa.” He hissed the praise, as if pained by your godly presence before he brought his face before yours, his eyes searching your features. “Can you please show me all of your art?” He rushed through the words as he darted between looking at you and Dieter.

You broke away from Javi in shock at his question before turning to look at Dieter. The two of you shared a look of confusion before you burst out in laughter.

Here you thought this man was about to ask you both to fulfill some depraved fantasy, yet, once again, you had underestimated how innocent and kind he was.

“Everything I have seen has been so beautiful and I just wanted to be able to look upon it—” he started to ramble nervously, but you just returned to his arms, lacing your fingers with his.

“Come.” You gently said as you pulled on his arm, walking through your living room.

Although you and Dieter lived in an apartment, it was really a penthouse. The entire top level, numerous rooms, too many bathrooms and space for a large studio space to share.

You pulled harder on Javi’s arm, dragging him forward so he would walk by your side. Seeing him stumble forward made you want to just push him up against the wall, but you were able to resist…almost. You placed your lips right next to his ear, his loose, light brown, curls resting against your face.

“Will you help me remove my dress before we enter?” You asked, lightly kissing his adorable earlobe, licking it into your mouth to briefly suckle and moan before removing yourself from him. Javi watched you, entranced and uncaring to anything else around him, freely allowing you to guide him through your home. “I can’t risk getting paint on it and Dee pulled the lace really tight so I can’t do it myself…” You pouted your practical facts and Javi’s pure, blissfully large smile spread across his lips.

“You are right! We cannot ruin something so beautiful.” He stressed as if he would start a war over the matter, his smile fully infecting you as you forced yourself to look away to try to remain composed and not melt into a giggling, blushing, puddle.

Slowly you stopped in front of the door, turning yourself so your back was to Javi. Gently you bunched and pulled your hair over one shoulder while peeking at him over the other. That delicious smile of his returned to his lips before he brought them to your exposed skin, lightly planting the softest, warmest, kisses along your back and shoulders while you felt his fingers slowly unlace your dress.

You looked over at Dieter, who rested against the closest wall, with the faintest smirk, his fingers attached to his mouth as he nervously bit with growing tension and excitement behind his gaze. Slowly you raised your hand to press your sleeve playfully and dramatically off your shoulder, giving him a small pout. Dieter chuckled with amusement and approval.

“Have I lost your attention, mi amor?” Javi whispered into your skin, his soft beard tickling you as you felt yourself blush and look away from Dieter, who only raised his eyebrows playfully at you as you did.

“I’m sorry.” You found yourself bashfully apologizing as your arms wrapped around your front, Javi pulling the lace through the last loop and letting it fall to the floor. Slowly you turned to look at Javi, your hands clinging to your chest and you felt yourself tremor under his soft and loving gaze.

Without missing a moment, Javi brought himself closer to you, his hands cradling your face, his thumbs barely present on your skin, but you felt the batting of his heavy breath against your lips.

“Just tell me how to keep it.” He whispered his plea before kissing you, a gentle moan escaping the tame man as his thumbs pressed against your cheeks.

You wanted Javi to know he had your attention, that it was his to have and command in this moment. Slowly you raised one arm and then another until you felt the weight of the fabric pull it to the floor. You snaked your arms through his, forcing his embrace to fall and wrap around your naked and exposed frame.

Heat coursed through your veins as you felt Javi grip at your flesh once he took hold of your body, ensuring that every part of him that could hold you, did. A desperate moan escaped you as you forced your kiss deeper, pulling his neck and head closer to you, grappling at his body.

With surprising strength, Javi tightened his grip around you, pinning you to him, so tightly it was even a bit hard to breathe—but it wasn’t something you minded. If anything, it aroused you more to see Javi act this way than if Dieter were you pin you like this. It was expected from him, but you have obviously driven Javi to this intensity?

God, take you now for you will never feel more powerful or closer to holy divinity, than how it felt to have two delicious men devoted to your pleasure, devoted to your well being, your happiness...while both capable of being switches.

As quickly as his intensity came, it left as you felt Javi immediately back away from his iron grip, his arms loosening, your lungs finally able to fully expand again. You you let your lips travel from his down to his chin and then neck. You could hear him panting, light small grunts accompanying each one.

It was a sound you were beginning to crave.

“You still wish to see the art, my sweet Javi?” You asked him as you nipped at his chin affectionately.

“I’d say he has a pretty fine piece right there.” Dieter finally spoke, breaking free from being the fly on the wall, to walk towards the door that led to the studio.

He made a deliberate and exaggerated point to step over the fabric pooled on the floor that was your dress. Dieter grabbed the handle and swung himself so his back was pressed to the door, dramatically looking to Javi.

“Know that we don’t share this space with anyone.” He advised Javi with an enticing seriousness before unlatching the door and allowing the weight of his body to swing himself and the door into the room. Javi, still holding you, kissed the spot where your jaw met your ear.

“Bella,” he whispered before releasing you from his hold to walk into the studio, yet he made sure one of his fingers remained hooked onto yours. You felt your whole body blush as you smiled and followed, your hand raising to cover your face as you passed Dieter.

“I love seeing you so bashful.” He commented with a smile. “Fuck,” he pronounced as he slapped your ass, “you’re so perfect.” He added in a sweet rumble as he followed you, his words only reminding you of when Javi told you the same thing in Spanish.

You wanted to look back to see Dee’s perverted smile but you remembered Javi’s whisper, his plea for your attention, so you pulled your hands together and laced your fingers with his.

Javi glanced back to look at where your bodies connected, his eyes naturally following your arm to the rest of your body before falling to your eyes. You watched as his smile grew as he took you in but it was the strongest when he locked with your eyes; it made you quiver.

For a moment they held you, suspended with anticipation, before he swung his body in a circle, once again, to look around at the numerous canvases that were hung on the walls, propped against furniture or still on their easel.

All mediums of paint were scattered around, some in organized areas while others would take you an hour or more to get the whole set that you bought them as. Numerous white tarps stretched the floor, splattered with a multitude of colours from years of use—from times before you and Dieter lived together.

“It is beautiful.” Javi gasped. “I am so honoured that you show me this.” He told you with his characteristic grave seriousness before he gave you a short and firm kiss. “And you, as well,” Javi said, walking towards Dieter with his arms stretched out. Dieter leaned in for a hug, expecting a warm embrace, so he was shocked when Javi gave Dieter the same, short and firm, kiss as he had given you.

But the one he gave Dieter lingered for a bit longer.

Long enough, at least, that you saw Dieter’s body relax at Javi’s touch and affection.

“You have very soft lips.” Javi complimented Dieter who just gave the man a perplexed look before quickly nodding, the lack of verbal reaction worrying Javi. “I apologize if I misunderstood—”

“No,” Dieter stopped him, putting up a hand, “definitely my thing I just…misunderstood you, is all,” Dieter said with a smirk before his eyes flicked to you to see you blushing as your two boys realized what they could have with each other.

Oh, the things I will watch them do. The thought caused waves to roll and twist your stomach with craving and desire, and you knew it showed by how Dieter’s expression shifted and how wide Javi’s eyes went in surprise.

Your eyes connected with Javi’s and immediately you slunk towards him.

“Tell me which one you like the most,” you asked of him as you moulded yourself to his side, “and if it’s mine, you get a prize.” Javi’s head jerked to look at you, his eyes dancing with excitement and anticipation, his lips twitching as if they had a thousand words they wished to speak in this single moment.

“What if it’s mine.” Dieter interrupted, both you and Javi glancing towards him. Your eyes remained on Dieter yet you saw Javi look back at you before his lips fell to your jaw.

“Yes, mi amor, what if it is Dieter’s work?” Javi whispered the question and you couldn’t help but moan and melt in his arms—fuck, he better pick yours.

“Then Dieter gives you a prize.” You said, knowing you needed to play along, play fair, now that Javi was also being shared. Dieter smiled with approval, and Javi kissed his into your skin before breaking from you to walk around the studio to look at the multitudes of work.

Dieter, not wishing to waste a moment, snaked his body around you, pinning your back to his chest as he hugged you from behind.

“I love you so much, baby,” Dieter whispered as one arm started to drift down your stomach. “I bet you’ve been thinking of what it’s going to be like to have Javi fuck you, haven’t you?” He asked the question but you knew better than to answer.

Dieter nipped his pleasure at your silence against your neck as his hand reached down to grip your thigh, your gaze following a gently wandering Javi who was oblivious to what was happening behind him.

“I’ll know you’ve been a dirty little girl if you’re wet for me, hmn?” Dieter whispered, his other hand slipping upwards to your collarbone as you felt two of his fingers plunge between your folds to swim in the undeniable evidence of your arousal that had stayed locked and hidden within.

Hearing the satisfied chuckle against your skin made you shake.

Little would make you happier than to have Dieter bend you over and stick his dick in you right now. The worst part about that craving was that even though he wasn’t going to do it, you knew Dee was thinking about it.

“Oh, baby, you are so good to me.” Dieter growled into your ear as you heard Javi softly speaking to himself, debating on which piece spoke to him more. “I’m gonna make sure your cunt gets so fucking stretched today. You want that, hmn?” He asked you, his hand rising from your collarbone to rest on your throat, the pressure immediately being applied.

This was when Dieter wanted you to speak—when it was hard to.

“Mhmn.” You tried to confirm but from the light chuckle and sweet kiss from Dieter, you knew it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words, my love.” He told you, his grip tightening.

“Both. I want both in me.” You strained to say, Dieter’s grip releasing and immediately replaced with a kiss and lick of his tongue, a sign you pleased him.

“I’ll give my baby what she wants,” he promised you as his drenched fingers parted from you and were raised to your face, “so long as she’s good.” He taunted, and you immediately knew what he wanted to you do.

What you needed to do to be good.

Opening your mouth wide, you stuck out your tongue as far as you could so that Dieter could place his cum covered fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your tongue until you felt them enter your throat.

“Good.” He whispered, a word you recognized as a command so you closed your mouth, your tongue swirling around and parting his fingers, ensuring to fully clean them. As Dieter removed his fingers from your lips, reaching down for another round, Javi came around a corner from a part of your studio you did not expect him to have wandered.

“I have decided.” He informed you both with a bright smile, his eyes taking in the position Dieter had you in with a ferocity washing over his expression. Your curiosity of what he would have done at that moment if Dieter didn’t immediately release you would plague you for a few days to come, you were sure, but it wasn’t the time to focus on such things.

You would suffer those delicious, depraved, thoughts later.

“Show us, love.” You told Javi, walking towards him and reaching out a hand for him to grab. Javi stepped forward so that he could connect with you sooner, hurriedly rushing you to the piece he had chosen as his favourite. The adorable nature in which he rushed took you from the pressing hope and need that the art he chose was yours and the dread of having to watch Dieter pleasure Javi instead of you—not because you didn’t want to see that, but only because you wanted to do it first.

You were never as good with sharing as Dieter was.

When Javi stopped in front of the art piece he had chosen, you looked up with mixed emotions. It was a painting that, although yours (yippee!), carried some of the heaviest emotions with it from any piece you had ever painted.

“This!” Javi said as his arms shot out in front of him, having let go of your hand to do so. You blinked, trying to compose yourself, to not get lost in the image and get pulled away from the moment. Looking at Javi helped.

“Mine.” You said with a smile before leaning against him. “Tell me what you love about it, Javi.” You whispered his name as you pressed your face against the side of his, one arm draped across his shoulders for support, while the other hastefully reached down to start undoing his belt. You needed to get lost in him before you got lost in the fears of your future or the daunting, suffocating, shadow of your past.

The very thing that piece depicted, the emotions trying to rip open the chasm deep within your soul as you glanced towards the wide, chaotic, strokes of black and blue oil paint against the bright background.

No. Not now, not right now. You willed yourself back to the moment, back to Javi, and ensuring to take extra measures so you couldn’t see anything about the piece.

“Well it, uh,” Javi began but quickly became distracted by what was happening below him, his eyes immediately falling to your hand. “I can help—” Javi offered as his hands reached for the belt, but you moved to bat it away, turning your back to the canvas and dropping to your knees as you pulled his belt from the last loop in his pants.

“I think I asked you a question.” You informed him as you gazed up at the beautiful and soft man. “Concentrate.” You sweetly teased him before you tore at his pants, harshly pulling the fabric over the button and pulling his zipper down with lightning speed. It was a surprise that with the strength and desperation that you pulled down his pants, his boxers did not come with.

“Well, it is emotional and vulnerable.” He said, looking at the art you had made shortly after your first time in rehab. It was of a small dark ghostly figure, childlike, with a large and bright shadow looming behind it. To you, it symbolized how your past self was terrifying to live up to, that when you fell so far it felt, and still does most of the time, that you would never rise to those heights again. Never regain that level of talent and confidence.

Part of you wished to listen to his praise, while the other part wanted to block it out, to not have such sweet and tender words associated with everything that wasn’t that. Thankfully you had something to distract yourself from it all, something that was begging you to let it free.

“It’s, uhm,” Javi became distracted again as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, hungrily watching as his sizable, thick, cock sprung out and said ‘hello’ to you. Releasing the fabric in your hands, leaving the rest to gravity, you pressed your knees into the ground to twist your body and head so you could immediately take his soft, sweet, balls into your mouth.

With his hard, twitching, cock resting against your face, forcing one eye closed, you looked up at Javi, desperate to see how you were making him feel and immediately moaning at the sight. Slowly you dragged your tongue along the length of his cock until you suspended it with the tip of your tongue against his tip.

“Dios,” he groaned at your touch, “I have faced death, and lived, yet this makes me more nervous.” Javi choked on his words as you slipped your lips over the head of his cock, your eyes still locked to his as you moaned once more at seeing the small twitches in his expression, the slight sway to his stance. “Dieter,” he called out to the wallflower, his arm outreached, “I wish for you to join us.” He invited him and you couldn’t help but look to see what caused Dieter to hesitate.

Unlatching your lips from Javi you ensured to still have your tongue pressed against his cock, mouth open, before glancing to Dieter. You wanted him to see you in one of his favourite positions, but he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were glued to Javi.

You had never seen Dieter pause before, or hesitate, even if he only anticipated watching for the evening.

Perhaps he too was feeling the same effect Javi had on you. The same thing you were feeling earlier when you both had entered the apartment.

“Dee, baby, come.” You beckoned to him, your sultry voice shifting to one full of love and comfort for your man, while a small part of you wanted to hold back until you were certain Dieter was okay with the situation. That caught his attention and he gave you the softest smile before walking towards you both, a short, emphasized wink, given your way.

He was okay, and the realization gave you a sense of relief and joy as you plunged yourself back onto Javi who lurched forward at your touch, his hand jerking to your head, almost gripping your hair, before it relaxed and softened.

You couldn’t help but smile and moan at the realization Javi truly had another side to him, a side other than sickly sweet devotion. Yet knowing that you could coax that out of him, and have continued to do so tonight, had your free hand drape down your body to reach between your spread legs.

You wished to look up but you lost yourself in the feeling of Javi’s cock in your mouth, the stretch it gave to your lips, the pressure on your teeth as you forced your way down onto him until you felt him in your throat, until you couldn’t move any further. Slowly, with great effort, you pressed your tongue against him, sliding it out of your mouth in an attempt to lick the balls you had held until you gagged. Immediately you released yourself from Javi, gleaming at the sweet moan that escaped him, cum and spit connecting you two long after your lips had left him.

You watched Javi, desperately wanting to see his approval, to hear his praise of how you made him feel, what thoughts you evoked from your actions, but your attention was pulled away as you felt Dieter’s dominating grip on your arm.

“That’s for us to do, kitten.” He told you, moving the hand that you were using to touch yourself away from your body. “I got something else for you to play with.” He continued, a light growl behind his words as you heard him unzip his pants.

You wasted no time releasing Dieter's cock from its cage, smiling and letting out a happy gasp as you looked up at the two men towering over you, hard cocks pearling with anticipation of your touch, of your lips and mouth to be around them.

Biting your lower lip and glancing between them, you gripped each cock in one hand and rubbed their tips together—both men immediately closing their eyes, each of them letting out a soft moan or acknowledgement of pleasure.

You brought your tongue to them, moving against both of them as you continued to press them against each other. A wet smacking sound mixed with muffled groans brought your attention back to looking above you, only for your eyes to feast on Javi and Dieter locked in a deep, messy, kiss, their hands frantically grabbing at the other’s body.

The imagery was more than you expected or could handle. Immediately you took Dieter into your mouth, seamlessly taking his length as your hand moved over Javi’s, purposefully twisting, squeezing, and coaxing in ways you knew would make him feel good.

Yet from the way Javi broke from Dieter’s lips to moan and gasp at your efforts let you know it felt more than just good.

Then you swapped, your lips and tongue soothing the skin you had twisted and tortured as you gently moved Javi’s hard cock in and out of your mouth, your hand sliding over Dieter’s. You knew to hold harder with his, to drag your nails along his skin, to pinch and twist his balls as you handled him.

“Fuck.” Dieter hissed as you watched his stomach clench, his eyes immediately looking down at you only to hiss again as he saw you watching him, your eyes wide and soft as he liked you to look when you had a cock in your mouth—his or someone else’s. There was a glint in his gaze, a hungry, dominating, command, that had you remove yourself from Javi and return to Dee; your eyes never leaving his, your gaze never shifting.

Even as his hand clasped to the back of your head and forced his cock as far down your throat as physically possible, holding it there. You could feel your eyes water as they stung, knowing Dieter wouldn’t want you to blink, that to be good your eyes had to remain open until he looked away.

You were seconds from breaking before Dieter gasped and released you, your head jerking backwards as you gasped for air and coughed as some of his cum entered your airway. Javi bent to you, cradling you in his arms as you recovered, a hand grazing over your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in Spanish, complimenting you for how well you handled them both, how he wished to reward you for all you endure with Dieter, to kiss those wounds better.

Javi whispered this, all while Dieter was muttering and hissing to himself as you knew he was fighting the urge to cum, to give himself the release his muscles and body were screaming for. His few, short, furious glances towards you only confirmed that.

With Javi’s last promise to kiss your wounds better, and once your breath had returned to normal, he brought his lips to yours, his tongue immediately entering you. To know he did not hesitate to kiss you this way, knowing he was tasting Dieter just as much as he was you, set a fire to your stomach and you lurched your body forward, pressing yourself to Javi with desperation.

You went to reach to grasp him again, but Javi softly stopped you, shushing you gently before giving you a light kiss.

“It is your turn,” Javi whispered against your lips before he kissed you again, his arms wrapping around your face to cradle you, once more, like you were a delicate flower.

“Indeed.” Dieter hastefully agreed and you felt your body grabbed and pulled until you were slung over Dieter’s shoulder. You knew where he was bringing you, and you also noticed that he purposefully carried you in a way that your eyes did not fall on ‘Javi’s Piece’, as you would come to call it.

Javi did not need instructions to know to follow you, and as you watched him excitedly, playfully, chase after you, it did not feel like it took long for you to get to your destination and be thrown onto the bed by Dieter.

Often Dieter had painted you on this bed, sometimes by yourself, sometimes innocently sleeping and the others with one…or more, individuals. Dieter always painting and sketching; never partaking.

Today would not one of those days.

You smiled as you watched Dieter, now fully naked, crawl onto the bed and then over you, sitting on your lower abdomen, his hard, throbbing cock resting against your soft skin before his large hands latched onto your breasts.

“God, I fucking love your tits.” Dieter mused and praised you, immediately taking your smile away with a firm pinch of your nipple, the pain causing your legs to rub together, your slick dripping onto the sheets as it was squeezed from between your legs.

“They are truly beautiful.” Javi agreed from the side of the bed, your gaze immediately falling to him, watching him stand by and slowly stroke his cock while he watched you and how your body twisted to show your arousal. His buttoned shirt was fully open, revealing his soft and fuzzy tummy that only invoked a desire to bite and lick it.

You felt yourself pout at how distant he was, naturally reaching out an arm, beckoning him as you felt Dieter start to lovingly massage your body, his lips nestling around the nipple he had pinched, his warm tongue and soft lips kissing and licking to soothe the tortured skin.

You were able to wrap a hand around Javi’s thigh, while Dieter sat back up, grabbing at your body with a newly vigoured roughness—you knew it taunted him when he didn’t have your attention, and you loved how he demanded it back. You looked up and watched Javi passionately stroke his cock while watching you softly, a sense of pride swelling in his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, Dieter’s twisted expression in your peripheral.

Your body jolted as you hissed at the unprompted sting when Dieter slapped your nipples harshly, your eyes darting to him, your eyebrows pinched from pain, your thighs clamping together and as you watched Dieter slowly smile with a dominating pleasure that you answered his demand for attention. You felt yourself soak the bedding beneath you. Sensing you shake under him, Dieter reached down to grip your chin, but Javi’s hands got in the way.

“Dieter, Dieter…you cannot treat such a gentle and precious woman in such ways.” Javi scolded him as he gently pushed Dieter off of you, the weight off of your stomach allowing you to finally take a full breath. “You must make love to her.” You felt Javi whisper into your ear as he crawled onto the bed, gently placing his knee in the crevasse between your thighs, asking for permission to enter. Slowly you spread your legs, feeling Javi’s skin slide along your soaked body, your gleaming arousal present for all to finally feel and see.

You felt Dieter, unable to help himself, reach down to grip your glazed thigh, deliberately dampening his fingers as you knew he would want to taste you. You wanted to look, to watch him place his fingers in his mouth, allowing you to imagine his masterful tongue swirling around them, wishing it was against your body instead, yet Javi cupped the side of your cheek to pull your gaze to him, his soft eyes dancing over your soft features.

You were instantly reminded of the moment before entering the studio when Javi wished for your attention and to keep it. You maneuvered your arm so that you could rest your hand against Javi’s cheek, your fingers lightly blocking Dieter’s frame from your peripheral and you smiled at Javi.

You were his to have, and you needed him to know that. Even if your eyes wandered.

“How is it that such a delicate and rare flower, such as yourself, can exist in this maddening world?” He whispered earnestly to you, begging for you to answer his question full of praise, before his lips found yours, his knee and thigh claiming the space between your legs, preventing anything else other than him from being against your wet, pulsing, heat.

Effortlessly his tongue slipped against yours as you felt his hand leave your cheek to caress the rest of your body. His earnest desire building for you only showed in the fierceness with which his lips moved against yours, the deliberate moans that seemed to be his effort to stop himself from taking more, his knee rocking up to press against your swollen clit, coaxing continuous soft moans and gasps from your lips.

“See…I think, she likes both.” You heard Dieter comment, his familiar grip returning to your nipple, twisting, and pinching as you clamped your thighs against Javi’s leg, shaking as you groaned in both pain and pleasure, craving for one of them to touch you, to stick anything into you, but you couldn’t beg…you were theirs to share; to have. “Don’t you, my love?” Dieter continued to ask and you knew you had to respond. “You love it when I’m rough? When Javi soothes that pain? You love it to have two men fucking you—don’t you?”

“Yes.” You told him as you watched Dieter crawl onto the bed, your head centred between his spread knees, his cock inches away from greeting your lips. Javi slowly moved towards the bottom of the bed, his hands and lips never leaving your skin.

“Yes, what?” Dieter stressed, his serious expression demanding your gaze as his thick fingers gently laced through your hair before jerking into a firm grip.

Your whole body tensed as you felt Javi’s tongue feel cool against your clit, the buildup and tension that had been growing since dinner, for days leading up to tonight, bursting within you. You needed it, all of it. You needed to be mindless, to feel nothing but to bask in a sea of the pleasures brought by their touch.

You raised your legs and wrapped them around Javi, your hand reaching down to lace into his soft, luscious, golden brown curls, your eyes never leaving Dieter.

“I love it when two people fuck me.” You groaned as Javi’s hand gripped onto your hips, pulling your body closer as his lips and teeth clamped and pressed against your body, purpose behind every stroke of his tongue. You whimpered as your chest shook, craving for one of them—both of them—to be inside of you. “I’ve been good.” You begged before you let out a small yelp that quickly transitioned to a deep groan as Javi moved a finger into you.

Your head went to rock back, but with Dieter not letting go of your hair, it only allowed your head to hang within his grip; a fact Dieter did not hesitate to take advantage of.

As you inhaled to recover from another pinched groan brought by Javi’s pleasurable and attentive efforts, Dieter pulled your face to him, using his free hand to guide his cock into your mouth before gripping your chin. He did not allow you any control over how you moved your head as he glided you along his cock as he pleased, you tried to prop yourself onto your side but with your legs twisted around Javi, it was not an easy maneuver.

Your eyes managed to strain towards Javi, to see him adorably peak up at you, his eyes dancing at what he saw before he slowly rocked and positioned himself so you could comfortably move onto your side, his lips and tongue not leaving you, and his fingers immediately re-entering you with reinforced numbers once you both settled.

Dieter, on the other hand, paid no attention or mind to any discomfort you may have felt as he continued to use you for his pleasure, which only made you happier. You kept watching Dieter until your eyes fluttered closed, your muscles rippling as you felt pressure rise where Javi held you. You wanted to moan, your body begged to be able to scream out the rupturing pleasures that were becoming untethered within you, but Dieter’s cock prevented and muffled those efforts.

Your grip on Javi released itself, your body losing the strength for it as your eyes rolled back in your head, Javi unrelenting in his growing earnestness to pleasure you, to lick your wounds, to erase the pain your body held. Something you thought possible if he never stopped.

A fourth finger entered you as Javi forced his face free from you, his nose, lips, and cheeks glinting with your cum, his skin red from where it was pressed against your body. He raised his face high enough so that you could look at him as Dieter now held your face in one place as he rocked his hips against you.

Javi’s expression was soft, his smile wide, as he lightly panted like a puppy to catch his breath.

Yet despite that softness, his fingers did not relent, and only moved within you with new vigour and force, rising until you could hear the sound of his knuckles slapping against your wet cunt and you bucked as another crash of pleasure errupted within you, desperate to escape from every pore on your body.

Dieter, knowing your signals well, pressed his body and cock into you, muffling your deep groan as you twitched around Javi’s fingers.

“I’m sorry, querida,” Javi whispered as he kissed your wet and sticky thigh, “that was unkind of me.” He told you as Dieter pulled himself off of you and Javi out of you.

All you could do was lay on the bed, panting to catch your breath as your brain tried to catch up to what was going on around you instead of focusing on how your pussy pulsed and how your blood rushed to all the wrong and unhelpful places within your body.

“You have been so good to us.” You heard Javi whisper but it was hard to tell how close he was, and you only assumed very as you felt arms that weren’t Dieter’s pull you so your back was against their chest; Javi’s chest. You rocked your head back, mostly because it was too heavy to hold at the moment, to gaze up to see the softest, sweetest, most caring eyes watching you.

It brought you a throaty, mindless, smile.

“Hola.” Javi lovingly greeted you and you closed your eyes, humming as your smile spread further at the sweet sound of his voice. “Let us give you what you wish, hmn?” He whispered again, and you felt your body moved once more, but this time with four hands.

Your mind finally came back to you as you realized Javi had positioned himself against the headboard of the bed, Dieter kneeled between his spread legs, and both men holding you high enough that the tip of Javi’s cock brushed the lips of your pussy.

“Relax, baby,” Dieter told you with a soft kiss on your lips. “We got you.” He confirmed and you slowly leaned back, Javi having positioned his chest to be able to greatly support the top of your back while leaving your lower suspended within their grip. Slowly you felt them lower you onto Javi’s cock.

You moaned as he entered you, his girth more than you had before—or so it felt at this moment. Your back arched as Dieter’s tongue was pressed against your clit before sliding lower to where Javi was slowly moving in and out of you.

“Javi.” You could only manage to whisper his name as you fully relaxed against his body, within his hold, his light chuckle brushing against your cheek feeling like the only thing you needed to live until his cock moved without you and instantly you were reminded of the finer things in life. You heard his labored breaths mixed with his soft grunts of pleasure and exhausted efforts as he moved within you, as Dee and him raised you up and lovingly lowered you onto him.

You could feel when Dieter’s tongue was on you, and you knew where it was when you couldn’t, if Javi’s increased panting didn’t give it away.

The lack of attention from Dieter didn’t upset you though, for it made Javi crave and take more of you, the movements of your body becoming harsher, less controlled, as Javi’s lips found you neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your flesh when you saw Dee’s head dip with purposeful force. A feral moan from Dieter was accompanied by a firm, powerful, pull on Javi’s body that shifted your bodies forward yet it caused you to fall backwards from the lack of support of the headboard. Your full weight rested on Javi and you heard him groan as you shifted, only to look down between his thighs to know why.

“Shit…” Javi moaned before his arms wrapped around your torso, one hand firmly grabbing a breast while the other trailed lower until it rested on your swollen bud. Slowly he moved his fingers, his stomach rolling under you as he rocked in and out, Dieter moaning as you knew his tongue and mouth were either wrapped around Javi’s balls or occupying the base of his cock.

For a few minutes you were all tied up like that, your sweaty, hot, bodies grinding against eachother, a chorus of moans, groans and gasps of pleasure and surprise as you all devoured and enjoyed eachother. You arm bent back so your fingers could lace, once again, into Javi’s curls, pulled and twisting them so his sweet, soft, lips were once again pressed upon your body.

You felt yourself melt into Javi, your body rolling along with his muscles and tension as he moved into you, leaving you feeling like you were wading in a sea of pleasure when Dieter’s tongue returned to you like a storm rolling in to disturb your peace.

He licked and pinched and bit you before he soothed the touch with soft kisses, relieving Javi’s fingers from their duty to replace them with his own before slowly bringing his body upwards while still kneeling between Javi.

Dieter watched you with a slightly detached gaze, like he was half here, half lost in his thoughts of what he wanted to do in this moment—most likely to both you and Javi.

Javi, on the other hand, being very present with your body, still slowly rolling into you, teasing you, slowly building up your tension for release. Dieter would have done this to torture you, yet Javi seemed to bask in the glory of the slow, tender, love making you two were engaged in. His free hand pressed against your stomach as his lips kissed the back of your ear before repeating the multitude of compliments and praises he had already given you.

Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a lowly moan seemed to bring Dieter back to the present, as his fingers gripped you with a new sense of life and purpose.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked with a tight jaw as you forced your eyes open, straining to focus on him as your body pulled you back into your prone and gasping position. You opened your mouth to respond, to confirm, but Dee just growled, pressing his fingers into where Javi also occupied. “Does that make my little slut happy?”

“Our.” Javi proudly corrected with a defined and firm thrust, both of you gasping in pleasure as you could feel Dieter twist in you, most definitely ensure to touch Javi as much as he was touching you. The thought was numbing to think about, to dream about, yet unbelievable to know you were living through it. It was too much.

No longer could you push yourself to take more of them. To withhold your arousal, to stop it from peaking and spilling over. You needed that release.

You needed what was promised.

From the opposite ear that Javi whispered to you came Dieter’s dark, dangerous and husky voice.

“You like that, don’t you?” His question and tone rhetorical. “Being our little whore, our toy to play with.”

His words had to moan in response, a moan that quickly turned into a yelp as Dieter’s body shook with how much force he moved his hand against your clit.

“Don’t stop.” You couldn’t help from speaking the request as your throat tightened, your mind burning white at the heat coursing through your body, desperate for more of them. “Make me come, please fucking make me come!” You begged until you were yelling, Dieter’s gaze intent on yours, darkening the more he saw you unravel.

“You think you deserve to?” He asked you slyly, his roughness immediately stopping, causing an immediate snarl from you.

“I’ve been good!” You argued, furious at how he drew light circles around you, at how Javi returned to his slow, steady, and passionate rhythm when you just wanted to be manhandled by the both of them—to be split in half if that’s what it took to give you the release you needed.

“Say it again, baby,” Dieter told you as his fingers began to, once again, move faster.

“I’ve been good.” You whispered as you felt Javi’s pace faintly quicken, the beginning and end of his thrusts being firmer, more pronounced, as Dieter harshly swiped against your clit, pinching you in a way he knew you loved. “I’ve been good.” You repeated as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as you lost all strength and ability to hold yourself up.

“Don’t stop.” He continued to command you.

“I’ve been good.” You confirmed and begged with a breath, every word bringing you close to the desperate release you chased, every word encouraging the men to praise you for your efforts and endurance. “I’ve been so good.” You stressed as you stuttered an inhale, the heat rising in your belly. “I’ve been. So good. So. Fucking. G—" You let out a loud, long, deep, groan as your pleasure ruptured within you, Javi still keep his rhythmic pace, always pressing against your sweet spot, always accompanied with the even sweeter praise, as Dieter still relentlessly rubbed and tortured your clit as you came and the squirted as you finally orgasmed.

Dieter immediately placed the fingers that were against you between your parted, panting, lips as he watched you with a gleeful smile.

“You have been.” He told you seriously. “You think you’re ready for what I promised you?” He asked as he shifted himself closer to you and Javi. “You want both of us in you? Both of us fucking and stretching the shit out of that pretty pussy of yours?” He asked the redundant question yet waited for you to answer, but words were hard, so instead you closed your mouth around his fingers and gave him a look that told him it was offensive he would think you would wish otherwise.

He just smiled before his hand reached down between his legs and you felt him press his cock against you.

“Relax baby,” he told you yet you heard Javi also take a deep breath of anticipation, Dieter immediately losing his dominating composure to a look of endearment at you both, before the dark glint returned. “You don’t want me to be nice about it, do you?” He asked you, waiting for your response as you watched him, slowly shaking your head to say ‘no’. He smiled “That’s my girl.”

You gasped as you felt Dee press further into you, the pain of the stretch causing you to take quick and shallow breaths, until Javi’s calming hand swooped over your stomach as a reminder to relax, a reminder that he was there to soothe all pain that may come, that had been.

“You’re so beautiful, querida.” Javi whispered the praise into your ear as you watched Dieter’s expression pinch as you knew he was also feeling the effects of him stuffing a second cock into you—neither being considered small, or even average, by any means. “Look how well you’re taking us.” He continued his praise, a finger pressed against your cheek to turn your lips towards his.

Kissing Javi helped distract from the pressure between your legs, his mouth soaking up any groans or grunt from you as Dieter slowly began rocking in and out of you, always pressing slightly deeper with each thrust. It was only when you began to moan into Javi’s mouth, moan against his tongue, rested your open lips against his as you panted with mind numbing pleasure that shut down your motor functions, that you felt Javi move within you as well.

You immediately unravelled and lost yourself. There was not a moment your moans and faint curses did not fill the air around you three, not a moment that your voice didn’t overshadow any noise the two of them made in combination, nor a moment you felt like you could breathe, think or comprehend what was going on rather than the burning, pleasurable, sensation of the two men moving within you.

“I’m coming—” You announced like it was a surprise, like it was something that was a shock and needed to be stopped. Your eyes went wide, your mouth open and gasping as Javi and Dieter groaned at you tightening and shaking around them. “Dee—” you began to beg, not thinking you could take it anymore, worried that it was too much, yet he did not seem to share your same concern.

"Have we taken too much from you, hermosa?" Javi asked you, concerned, yet not stopping. You wanted to agree, to tell him yes, to ask them to stop, but words were too hard to conjure. It was too hard to think. Your eyes still closed, you felt Dieter grip your jaw, his mouth to your ear with a growl.

“She can fuckin’ take it, like the well-trained slut she is.” Dieter confirmed with a prominent thrust into you, praising you the way he knew how in these moments, encouraging you to continue to take their cocks, continue to allow them to stretch you, to further unravel at their touch and possession.

And you did take it.

You took many more pleasurable orgasms that they gifted you, took their seed as they both filled you with their climax, took whatever else they still wished to give you after that until they were satisfied and you were mentally in another galaxy.

Javi curled up to your naked, clammy, body only to nestle his head into the crook of your neck. He gave you soft, gentle kisses between his heavy, tired, breaths.

Dieter had gotten up to get you all refreshments and it was only upon his return that Javi broke the silence of your quiet panting.

“Let’s make a movie about this instead Dieter…about a beautiful flower bringing both a butterfly and a bee to its irresistible pollen.” He spoke loud enough for Dieter to hear, causing you to let out a soft, tired, moan as your face fell towards Javi, your eyes still closed. “You are worthy of a million love stories, hermosa.” He whispered into you, and if it weren't for the fact that you felt you could barely move, you would have climbed on top of that heavenly man right then.

Dieter just responded with a short, deep, and highly amused laugh.

“You wanna make a porno, Javi? I mean, I’m down…but I doubt it will carry the same ‘Oscar Buzz’.”

[mochi-munchies]

Practice Prologue: How to Snag Yourself a Dadmare! (Fanfic)

This is basically a pilot chapter or unofficial prologue to a fanfic I have in my backburner (the number is so big 😭). The plot summed up is basically if the Murder Trio sought out Nightmare to be their boss instead of Nightmare collecting them as his minions. A Reverse AU, if you will. (The reason I'm posting it here instead of AO3 is bc I'm honestly not quite happy with the result and feel it fits more as a beta version of the work.)

Fandom: Undertale (UTMV)

TAGS/WARNINGS: Canon-typical Violence, The Stars being Annoying, Minor Gore Mention (if you think about it), Sprinkles of Angst, Gratuitous Amounts of Banter, I'm Really Bad at Doing Killer's POV.

Word Count: 5937

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When one first started up establishing themselves in the multiverse, it was greatly advised to take those delicate, tentative steps under the guiding hand of another veteran Outcode - or if someone was incredibly lucky, under the wing of one of the few gods who not only possessed an impossible amount of understanding to the happenings of the multiverse, but could even bend it to their will within a certain degree.

The gods, after all, were respected far and wide for their power for a reason, and those who were fortunate enough to gain their interest were often destined to be favored among the multiverse's inhabitants and the Creators alike. Though whether the latter resulted in more suffrage or not was really up to the luck of the draw.

But even with such guidance, the road taken in traveling the multiverse was never without great risk of peril and danger. The multiverse was surprisingly cruel despite its inhabitants themselves not often being as such, and all it could take is a single misstep to send you hurtling into the void.

Still, with a good head on their shoulders and a healthy dose of determination, even the most unlikely of schmucks could last a week outside of their AU, at the very least. Maybe.

Not that anybody was around to tell Killer these things when his AU first glitched out and spat him into some no-name alternative timeline of Candytale.

Which, for the record, was weird as fuck. He spent four days at the very least wondering if this was like some kind of major psychotic breakdown, albeit a low-key hyperrealistic one.

Maybe smoking four packs of dog treats in one sitting was a really bad idea. Maybe this was Chara’s one last parting shot for stealing the RESET. Maybe this was his subconsciousness’ way to process through his trauma or some bullshit. Mmn, all good theories, but they never really did much to explain why there was another him included in this strange reality mixup.

Though, not like watching Gumdyne - heh, still funny - melt into a deformed.. sticky.. syrupy puddle of sugar goo wasn’t enough to shake him out of his funk. Like, the regular melting blood and bones took a while to lose its gross factor on him, but this was an entirely different kind of yuck.

Especially when some Temmies started scuttling in from out of nowhere licking the shit up, that was kinda much.. even for him.

He tried a few things at first, like RESETing a few times, trying out a few genocide runs, he even let Asgorito - seriously, who came up with this shit? - kill him a couple of times before he finally came to the conclusion that, yo, maybe there was something more at play here than a few screws being loose in his noggin.

As he lay there, surrounded by the sugary wreckage of what used to be ‘Minthee Town’ - which was an absolute garbage ass name, the atrocity wasn’t even a proper pun, it was practically sacrilege - anyway, he had an epiphany.

He knew of there being such a thing as alternative timelines. He went through the whole science phase, after all, back when he was still a hopeful little bag o’ bones with a future set in his sights. At least.. before the incident with Gas- NOPE! Been there, done that! Didn’t need that particular memory springing up again!

…Where was he going with this again..? Oh, yeah! The fact that he was stuck within a transdimensional nightmare! Right, if this wasn’t a warped figment of his mind again, then the logical explanation would likely have something to do with the timeline itself.

But what if there was more than that..? What if this goofy candy hell-ucination, was in actuality, an alternative universe? Because there was no way there was a path where the kid somehow made everyone reinvent themselves as tacky snacks for shits and giggles.

Shit.

The idea sent a shiver down his spine as he gazed out at the ruins of Minthee Town. Soul cycling into a fuzzy mess as his teeth chattered in a physical tic, he could somewhat distantly feel the freezing burn of his hate splattering down his cheeks as he considered all of the possibilities.

So much FUN..!

It took a lot of fucking around to figure it out. But, finally, Killer pieced together the basics of this alternate universe. This was a reality, a world with its own rules and physics and inhabitants. And most importantly, it had its own loopholes! Now THAT he had to take some special time with!

Before this entire mess began, he remembered the last memory he had before everything turned upside down. It was a few days after his last genocide run, the Underground was void of all life, and the world - figuratively speaking - was his stage. So of course, he did what anybody else would do..

He jumped off the craggy area’s peak and LOADed his save file on repeat to keep himself stuck in a perpetual loop of falling!

The adrenaline rush was therapeutic. Not as great as a mid-fight exchange of blows, but it was the best substitute he could think up at the time.

And somewhere during his antics, the save file gave off an off-tune ding as the entire world around him shuddered unsettlingly. Next thing he knew, he was in candy world.

So, if it was the weird bug that happened back then that caused him to be dropped into an alternative universe, theoretically, he just had to do something equally as dumb to get himself into another new timeline!

And thus, Killer, the timeline jumping, genocidal maniac was born! And boy! Was it fun! Especially after he learned that the machine the old man left behind in the basement could be used to similar, less exhausting effect! (Which was great because he was starting to run out of high places to jump off of in the Underground.)

The thrill of the unknown, the rush of adrenaline when he found a new kind of toy to take apart and use up to its fullest! Nothing could ever beat it! Although..

There were times where he found himself thinking that something was missing, somehow..

No matter how many bodies he went through, how much EXP he racked up in his runs, the euphoric rush was definitely losing its buzz, and his emotions were slowly breaking out the ice of apathy as the something he was missing became more and more prevalent.

He was sure he was going to lose whatever was left of his mind, at this rate.

Until he met them.

~ ~ ~

It was a chance encounter, as most significant events tend to be in the chaotic fabric of the multiverse. Despite the near limitless potential brought about by countless worlds reaching across the yawning void and grasping the power to cross over the dimensional plane, outside of the more ‘popular’ worlds, interactions between travelers were embarrassingly rare as they were often messy. Again, not like anyone was around to tell him all this shit at the time.

But Killer being the lucky duck he was, somehow beat those odds not even a full month after his antics began.

It was like any other day. He had just jumped into a new timeline, expecting to distract himself in the usual rush of short-lived blood and dust.

Only to find that someone had already beat him to it.

He didn’t think too much about it at the time, figuring the human of the world was probably in the middle of their own little killing spree. Yet, as he sped walked somewhat impatiently through the petrified woods, he came to a stop as he noticed the dark figure slouching in front of the bridge.

"You're not from here," Dust's voice echoed faintly, emotionally dead and flatter than MTT’s ass. The edgelord couldn’t even be bothered to lend him a glance, which - rude - rubbed Killer the wrong way.

The skeleton in front of him had a sizable amount of LV. More than what was possible in a single Underground, and he immediately recognized the other as something similar to himself. But Killer wasn’t too worried about his chances.

He didn’t know how long this guy was at the game, but his LV was nowhere near his, if he could feel it so strongly from this distance, that either meant he hadn’t accumulated enough to warrant teaching himself to suppress it, or the bastard’s stats hadn’t burnt out yet. He was clearly at the advantage here.

Killer palmed the knife in his hoodie pocket, mulling over his options. “Neither are you,” he quipped. His grin twitching upwards as the atmosphere grew dense with killing intent, his soul wobbled in excitement, as if wanting to taste the preludes to their combined violence.

Finally, something to spice things up a bit!

Thank the stars, it’s been getting harder and harder to find a good distraction.

He stepped closer in eagerness, posed ready for anything. Squeezing the hilt of his knife as the other skeleton finally straightened up and regarded the other with a dull stare.

“..You’re a monster,” Dust stated. Factually. Dead. Not even spoken as an accusation.

“So are you,” Killer chuckled, toeing just a bit further as he prepared himself for a lunge. Should he start off old-fashioned with the Blaster barrage, or kick things off with a good slice-and-jab? He cocked his head, feigning curiosity, “What’s your game, pal? You here for some fun, too?”

Dust’s face scrunched up in faint distaste at his words, though his empty sockets did nothing to betray any emotion. It was like looking in a strangely warped mirror now that he thought about it. One expressive and devoid of anything, the other too burnt out to showcase anything but stoicism.

"Fun?" he echoed, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. "There's nothing fun about this."

..Huh. Dust’s words hung heavy in the stale air, the weary bitterness in that statement so strong that it even managed to break past his lofty dissociation for a moment. Giving Killer pause.

For a brief moment, he felt the other giving off the same emptiness growing inside of him. And for some reason, that pissed him off big time.

He didn’t like it. Felt too much like the old him.

Without any hesitation, Killer rushed forwards to stab the offensive fucker.

And the rest was history.

After that, it was like the two were somehow linked by some invisible force. Always running into each other at the absolute worst times. Whether it be during a bad clash with the locals or during a particularly bad LV rush, it always ended up in a fight between the two that resulted in more and more insults landing than actual blows.

Dust couldn’t stand Killer’s flippant decadence as much as Killer couldn’t stand his self-righteous and equally self-destructive nihilism.

Yet, no matter how much they couldn’t stand the other, there was an undeniable but fundamental change as things fell into a routine. Each encounter seemed to escalate into verbal sparring and sometimes outright physical skirmishes, yet they somehow - miraculously, one could say - managed to survive each other’s onslaughts.

And every time they walked away, they were inadvertently already looking towards the next time, thinking to the future- which was something neither had done for such a long time. Honestly, Killer nearly shocked himself into a coma when he realized what it was that he had been missing before, why neither could outright finish off the other and end the game.

It was the feeling of having a playmate.

Chara - as much as Killer was all too proud to be rid of the little shit - was good at keeping things interesting. Especially considering how they were limited to the one timeline at the time. It’s incredible the kid managed to keep him entertained for so damn long looking back on it. But Dust was a different kind of fun. He brought a new dynamic to the game, challenging him more in ways that were more than just physical. It was mental. Emotional. As much as Killer hated the word and everything associated with it.

It was riskier, more high stakes than if it was just his life on the line. Because at the end of it all, Killer could always RESET. His mortality was a thing of the past now. His emotions, however, was a bomb lying under the table. Dust knew how to drag them out of their grave and expose them for all to see, and taking the bet to see if he’d be able to rebury them again and again sent a special kind of thrill through him every time.

There were times he had caught himself thinking about the other skeleton more times than he cared to admit.

And as months transitioned to years, Killer found himself drawn to Dust's unpredictability and mystery. Dust, on the other hand, though initially repulsed by Killer's carefree attitude towards violence, began to see a twisted sort of honesty in Killer's actions. At least someone could still enjoy his jokes. They were both monsters, yes, but where Dust saw only despair and inevitability, Killer saw opportunity and freedom. They pushed each other to confront uncomfortable truths about themselves and their existence in the multiverse.

It wasn't until one particularly brutal skirmish that the third member of their future trio entered the picture.

~ ~ ~

They just so happened to have been in Horrortale at the time. Once again falling into a spat over something neither could even remember now. Not like it was anything important, what Killer did remember was that he just wanted a good fight. Something Dust could only ever give him when he was forced full-throttle.

Killer’s laughter echoed eerily through the trees as he dodged another volley of attacks from Dust, his knife flashing in the dim light of the Underground. “Come on, Dusty! You can do better than that!” he taunted, his voice dripping with gleeful malice as the flaky snow crunched beneath their shoes.

The other skeleton summoned a furious wave of bones in response, his face set in a taut grimace that grit with anger when the bastard simply danced between the trees, making it difficult for the constructs to land. “Shut up and fight, you damn psychopath!” he spat, frustration and anger fueling his attacks.

Killer giggled with an exaggerated waggle of his sockets as he wove behind another tree, only to lean out with a shit eating grin as he felt the killing intent soak up the surrounding area. “Aw, don’t be like that, Dusty! What’s wrong? Can’t keep up?” He dipped back when a slew of bones were fired, teleporting to the other side of Dust before brandishing his knife.

Dust barely managed to block the attack with another bone - pah, the guy really relied on his magic too much - gritting his teeth as the force pushed him back. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Killer only laughed in response, a wild, unhinged sound that didn’t make it far through the stale, dead air. “Oh, I know! And that’s why you love me!” Expecting the slash, Killer skipped back and watched cheekily as Dust proceeded to charge him.

“You son of a-!”

CHNK..!

Without so much as a warning, it was at that moment a sizable hatchet whizzed out from the darkness of the trees and embedded itself within a trunk. Just shy of lopping Dust’s head clean off, if it weren’t for his quick flash of blue magic to manually pull his body away.

Killer hadn’t even noticed it until it landed right where his own head used to be. A double miss.

He shivered as he stared at the rusty weapon, feeling excitement wrack through his body as his LV pumped up in anticipation. He probably would’ve died if that was aimed at him first.

Neither of them thought much of it back then. How easily they side-stepped as one and stood together, brandishing their weapons without even the slightest consideration of the other taking advantage of the opportunity to stick it in their back.

“Show yourself, you dirty cheat!”

At first there was nothing. Just dead silence from the vacant forest until someone lumbered out from one of the closer trees.

Emerging from the shadows was a hulking figure, his single eyelight gleaming dimly in his socket as he stared the pair down with a mix of amusement and disdain. His expression was one of a very tight, very sharp smile, too rigid to fool anybody, as if a tired mask that was worn too many times before.

"You two.. done screwing around?" His voice rumbled like an avalanche, low and authoritative. Killer felt a shiver go down his spine as that eyelight dilated, staring them down in a way that made himself feel pinned under a microscope despite the lack of a CHECK.

It made him uneasy. “Hey pal, nobody ever told you it was bad manners to crash a party? Not even gonna invite yourself first, big guy?” Killer’s grin twitched wider, regaining its manic edge even as he felt the buzz of LV slowly dropping from the high. “What’s your deal?”

Dust shuffled a bit uneasily beside him, likely feeling the same wrongness he was getting from the giant. Though of course he was saying that a bit dramatically, as the stranger was probably only a head or two taller than himself. Maybe up to Undyne’s chin if he was being generous.

But, to be fair, a head or two was a lot for bags of bones like them..

The skeleton sighed, as if already annoyed with them, "my deal is.. I'm tired of hearing you two idiots fucking around in my forest... These are my hunting grounds.. and no humans are gonna come by with all your bullshit."

Dust's sockets narrowed, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "It’s Horror.. right? Heard stories about you.. Though, I thought you'd be.. taller."

The skeleton - or Horror - snorted, a hint of humor in his eyes. "And cruder and uglier and dumb as a rock, I bet?" His socket curled up into a crescent as his grin broadened somewhat mean spiritedly. “Sorry I’m not the.. hulking, stupid bonehead you were expecting,” he teased with a dry snicker.

Hm..? There seemed to have been a story there, or maybe an inside joke? He’d have to remember this exchange the next time he caught Dust in an amendable mood. It seemed like something that could be useful to have in future encounters.

Because he’d surely be making a return trip if that initial toss was more than a fluke…

“Ey.” He perked up, not having noticed that he had been drifting off in his mind until Dust not-too gently elbowed his rib, snapping him back into the moment to find Horror giving him a grin.

“Heh.. easy there pal… I know I’m handsome and all, but I don’t think you’re my type.”

Killer's grin only widened at Horror's taunts, the tension in the air somehow diffusing through the newcomer’s unusually relaxed and strange demeanor. Which he would later learn was due to the fact that the guy had no fucking magic, what the fuck. "Is that so? Your loss then.”

They were getting too comfortable..

Killer twirled the knife in his hand, subconsciously putting himself back in the mindset for a hard, dirty fight, ”So, big guy, you here to join the fun, or are you just gonna stand there and glare at us all day?"

Horror growled, eyelight narrowing as if he was disgusted by the suggestion. “Depends… Are you brats always this loud.. or is today an unlucky occasion?”

Dust tensed beside Killer, sensing some shift in Horror that Killer must’ve missed as his LV suddenly flared up in brief warning, letting the intent bleed out just a bit more threateningly as if to ward off some rabid animal. "..We don't back down from a fight," Dust muttered, his grip tightening on his bone construct.

Immediately, he recognized the stance Dust was falling into. Knew the moment he kicked off, the bastard would spring forwards and swipe with his magic attack, only to nail him with a hidden construct spearing out from the snow at his feet .

Killer braced himself, feeling the instinct to follow Dust’s intuition and using it as an excuse to test out the new toy. "Well then, big guy, let's see what you've got!" Without warning, Killer launched himself at the other, Dust following not too far behind.

They had their asses handed to them, in the end. Though, Horror wouldn’t walk away afterwards without his own wounds to lick- courtesy of one clever crack across the chin from Dust’s sneaky usage of Killer’s knife, but that didn’t discount the fact that they lost! Ugh, and the bastard didn’t even kill them afterwards! He just gave them a stupid warning before watching them slink out of the AU.

Ugh! He’ll have to pay the bastard back twice over next time! The sour ache in his bones only fuelled the sentiment, angry and spitting at having all of his hard work in winding Dust up to that point having been utterly wasted. Leaving his LV unfulfilled and pulsing like an open wound.

Well.. At least this could only be the worst of it.

~ ~ ~

Things only got worse from there, as his little jaunts across the dimensions finally seemed to catch the attention of the.. Star Sanses. Which, for the record, was the corniest ass name he had ever heard. They sounded like some cheesy music group, and certainly looked the part with those vomit-inducing colors.

Who the fuck even dressed in yellow, unironically..? That was like, the ugliest color of all time and the idiot had literally draped himself in it!

Admittedly, finding himself on the run as some kind of world-hopping criminal was cool as fuck.. For about a week. There were only so many times he could listen to the yellow idiot’s self-righteous and pitying monologues before wanting to stab out his ear canals- or more preferably the twat’s ribcage.

Besides, once he found out that the idiots were less about fighting and more dead set on ‘returning him to his rightful AU!’ All the fun and games were sucked right out of it.

The day Killer went back to that brain-rotting, monotonous, day-by-day, script-driven mockery of a life would be the day he RESET for the last time. And he was certain the sentiment was well shared, if Dust’s absolute frustration upon any mention of them was anything to go by.

Unfortunately, avoiding the goody-goodies - or ridding himself of them altogether - was something easier said than done. Because as much as they were naive, and overly optimistic, and laughably underleveled, one thing they were not was incompetent. Because apparently, two out of the three Sanses, were in fact not real Sanses, but Gods.

“Wait, waitwait waitwait wait.” He ignored the warning sneer Dust leveled him with for his theatrics, actually focusing more on their discussion for once than the idea of driving Dusty boy up a wall. “There’s Gods? Like- Gods exist, for real?” He had to grit his teeth to hide the doubtful laughter in his tone, though judging from the way Dust’s LV was starting to flicker to life, he was doing a shit job of it.

“You- are you fucking with me right now..?” Uh oh, he knew that tone, “you’ve been shitting around the multiverse for up to a year now, and you’re telling me you didn’t even know shit about the Gods?”

Killer tilted his head. Then looked around the dusty pub they were seated in, a reflection of his own Grillby’s if not considerably more stocked. He looked around as if someone would seriously appear to clear his good name, but when none of the dusted remains of the regulars saw fit to do so, he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Uhhh.. nope.” Killer looked over to Horror with a hopeful look, only for the larger skeleton to pointedly ignore his beseeching, winning smile in favor of cleaning the rest of his plate with a wry curve of his teeth. Traitor.

Dust slammed his bony hand on the table, rattling the city of half-empty glasses he had scattered about his side of the bar top. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Do you even take anything seriously?”

“Nah,” without looking, he took one of Dust’s many abandoned shot glasses and threw it back, slamming the empty cup a little more exaggeratedly just to play on the asshole’s nerves. “What’s the big deal anyway? Aside from being super annoying to shake off, they don’t really seem all that threatening..”

Dust took a deep, exaggerated breath, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check as his phalanges tore a small line through the wood. “That’s because they don’t see you as enough of a threat to treat you seriously, you fucking doughnut.”

That momentarily took him off guard. “Doughnut..?” He whispered to himself. Over his shoulder, he could hear Horror chuckling to himself, repeating the insult under his breath.

“That yellow fucker? Dream, or whatever? He’s the God of ‘Positivity’ or some shit,” as if recalling a particularly upsetting memory, Dust suddenly uncorked a new bottle before chugging it back. “First time I came across the little bastard, I was gathering up some EXP in an AU..” the psycho’s eyelights shuddered out, a bitter look growing over his mug as his wrist absentmindedly swirled the contents of his bottle.

“Came outta nowhere, suddenly confronting me about all this bullshit about ‘helping me become a better person’ and ‘easing my suffering’ or whatever.” He took another swig, “Been a long time since someone pissed me off like that..” his empty gaze suddenly jerked back to Killer as his voice trailed off. “Well, since someone who didn’t deserve it pissed me off, that is..”

Several glasses along the bar top went scattering across the floor as Killer lurched up in half-genuine annoyance- thankfully all empty, or Dust would’ve torn him a new one. “Ey! What’s that supposed to mean, Dusty?! I thought we were friends?!”

Both skeletons seated beside him leaned away in disgust.

“Yeah.. no thanks pal.” As if to make a point, Horror took his plate and scooted just a bit away from them, a motion that Dust was quick to imitate. Bastards, the both of them. Why did Killer even think of these two as friends playmates, again?

“You guys are so mean to me..!” Killer allowed a brief silence to settle overhead for maybe three minutes, as his soul cycled itself back into a completely perfect circle. “So what happened..?”

Dust side-eyed him with a completely new bottle in his hands, “Mmm..?”

“About Dreamy?”

Again, the same look of disdain flashed over the hooded monster’s features before he resolutely pinned his glare to the contents of his drink. “Tried to kill him.”

Horror snorted from where he was rummaging under the counter, his grin widening as he pulled back with something that looked like a mini-fridge. “Bet that went well.”

Dust's grip on the bottle tightened, the glass creaking under the pressure. “Bastard just kept dodging everything, wasn’t breaking so much as a sweat even after I busted out the blasters.. Even worse, when he hit me with those arrows…” He stopped for a moment, suddenly leveling them both a serious look, “have either of you ever been hit by those?”

“Hah, I’m not that unlucky,” Killer replied, a playful smirk dancing on his face. Horror only made a questioning sound behind him, seeming to take interest in the conversation with Dust’s seriousness.

“It felt like my skull was being.. hotboxed or some shit.. Like, the bastard’s magic was seeping into my head and- and I don’t even know how to describe it.. I could still feel my LV burning, but whatever the bastard did was making it harder and harder to summon enough intent to attack. I didn’t want to fight anymore, but my magic still did- and- and it..” Dust's grip on the bottle relaxed slightly as he exhaled, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his tone. “I had to bail before I overheated.”

That… Killer didn’t exactly know what to expect after Dust said ‘God of Positivity’ but that.. that was not it. He imagined briefly what it would be like to feel his LV screaming at him, not being able to summon any attacks. Experiencing his intent seeping through his fingers as some hopeless kid with a hero-complex tried to reprimand him for his life decisions as his magic burned itself outside-in.

He had to hunch over the counter as an intense wave of nausea radiated from his soul, causing large splatters of hate to spillover from his sockets.

Oh… that.. that was not a great feeling.

Killer leaned back, ignoring the pointed looks the two were giving him for his outburst. “Damn, sounds like a party pooper.”

Well, if he didn’t have enough reason to avoid the Star shits before..

Horror grunted, phalanges slowly creeping towards the socket housing his ill-gotten eye with a contemplative frown, “they've been a thorn in my side too.” He admitted.

“Sometimes, when things are getting a bit too rough for Traps, I try and do some ‘grocery shopping’ y’know..? But more often than not.. that stupid Ink-asshole shows up to ruin everything,” Horror grumbled, his fingers now hooked along his socket. “Like he’s got nothing better to do than meddle in my business.”

Killer snorted, shaking his head. “Ink..? Seriously? What’s he gonna do, paint you to death?”

“Don’t underestimate him,” Dust interjected, his voice low and serious. “Ink might be a brainless loon, but he’s also probably the most dangerous out of the three of them. He’s got crazy power and little to no consciousness in wielding it. You think Dream and his arrows are bad? Try pissing off someone who goes around warping timelines into ones like ours for shits and giggles.”

..What..?

Dust gave Killer a dark look, a flicker of frustration passing over his features. “That other God? Yeah, that’s Ink. Calls himself ‘the Creator’ or something tacky like that. He supposedly plays a hand in making AUs, but I don’t know how legitimate that rumor is.”

Seriously..?

Killer remembered Ink, even thought of the bumbling moron as the most palatable of the trio - at least he didn’t seem to be so obsessed with forcing his morals down other people’s throats - but the idea of the scatterbrained artist being a God was almost laughable. Almost.

Killer’s grin faltered slightly, a shiver running down his spine at the thought. “Great. So, we’ve got one God who can mess with our minds and another who sees us as customizable pets.. That’s fantastic.”

Usually, he’d be all for a good challenge or two to mix things up, but this was clearly looking to be an inevitable nightmare. Would his RESET be able to pull him through his code being rewired, or his own head being fucked with..?

The uncertainty in that was very disconcerting.

“Oh..? You finally realizing how fucked you are?” Dust's tone was filled with bitter amusement, though his glare spoke of a deeper frustration. “These guys are playing on a whole different level. And we're nothing but misbehaving brats where they’re coming from..”

Killer slouched back in his seat, rubbing his sternum as if to physically dispel the unease creeping through him. He didn’t like seeing the unease wobbling in his soul. He didn’t like feeling.

“So we’re supposed to just keep running and hiding like a bunch of beat dogs?!” Killer himself was startled by just how virulent his tone came out. However, he was quick to wave it off- he was mad, of course he was fucking mad. He came out into this multiverse, slayed the kid once and for all, gave up his very character, thinking he was finally set free from the monotony, the pain.

And now, just because of a couple of idiot gods with hero-complexes, he was back to bowing down in the face of some untouchable power..?

NO. FUCK THAT.

Emboldened by the frustrated growls sounding out in response to his outburst, Killer darted up from his seat, sockets fixed upon the wooden grooves of the bar top as his soul fizzled with sparks of determination.

Immediately, he could feel the heavy intent hovering over the back of his neck. As well as saw the tell-tale glow of Dust’s magic reflecting in the multitude of abandoned bottles.

He didn’t even flinch as he craned his skull back to see the craggily ridges in Horror’s axe glint menacingly under the dim light. In the corner of his eye, he could see Dust braced for a lunge, a slew of bones twirling over his shoulder in caution.  But instead of feeling threatened, Killer felt a spark of inspiration.

“Let’s team up.” He proposed, his voice cutting through the tension much like his favored knives.

Dust’s sockets narrowed, and Horror’s grip tightened on his axe. “What kind of bullshit are you on now..?”

Killer shook his head, a manic grin twitching wider, meaner, sharper across his face. “So you’re just gonna spend the rest of your lives living under the thumbs of those sanctimonious pricks? You two hated your worlds enough to find a way out into this multiverse, but now that the enemy ain’t some cheating little brat, you wanna call it quits?”

Neither looked amused - good, that’s exactly what he wanted - and Killer could taste the bitterness feeding into their LV. 

Dust was the first to speak, his voice dripping with skepticism as he let the bones drop- but not yet dissipate. “So, you think teaming up will solve all our problems? You think we can take on Gods, Killer? Seriously?”

He didn’t let his expression waver. He leaned backwards instead, forcing his bones to languidly stretch out along the bar top in a show of confidence. “I’m saying we can be stronger together. We’ve all had enough of our lives being determined by someone else, haven’t we?”

Feeling a bit audacious, Killer reached out and flicked the remaining bone attack from Dust’s loose hold, sending it clattering to the floor in a playful, teasing manner. The typically neurotic maniac didn’t even seem to flinch.

“C’mon Dusty… don’t tell me you went and collected all that LV just to play it safe.. Maybe getting out of that comfort zone of your’s will finally help you loosen up a lil’.”

Horror's grip on his axe loosened slightly, a malicious grin slowly growing along his features as he let it settle over his shoulder. “You know what..? Fuck it.. why the hell not? I’ve been wanting to show that little… blue pet of theirs a thing or two.”

Dust still looked skeptical, but there was a flicker of interest, of temptation, in his sockets that Killer was quick to latch on to. “You really think we can take them on..? The Star Sanses aren’t just powerful, they’re connected. They’ve got resources, allies, and a moral high ground that makes them practically untouchable.”

Killer’s head tilted, a coy smirk rising up in the shadows of his features as he chuckled, “the game wouldn’t be half as fun though, would it..?”

. . . . .

He knew the moment Dust’s grin rose to match his own, he’d won himself a couple of new playmates.

[riahlynn101]

"....For Now...."

Summary: All for One - busy trying to form his perfect vessel - created his clone with the sole purpose of 'taking care' of the last of the Shimura lineage. Apparently, he should have chosen his words more carefully.

TW: All for One being himself and mentions of childbirth (but it's all offscreen).

Based on this nifty theory from marunalu (warning for those that haven't read the most recent leaked chapter. Not the clone part, that, as far as I'm aware, isn't a plot point at the moment....yet): https://www.tumblr.com/marunalu/746843305233530880/it-also-could-work-if-hisashi-is-the-afo-clone

Implied spoilers from 419! Nothing is explicitly said, but they're there.

--

From the moment of Hisashi’s creation (not conception. Conception is a word for other people. People not like him. People like him are made in labs with quirks and are forced to be an exact copy of someone better) he was given a single task. 

His better, the originator of his DNA code, All for One, handed him a file. 

Hisashi gripped the manilla folder. The movement still felt weird, new, he supposes in retrospect. Being confined to a lab, mostly in a tube or laid on a table, will do that to a person. 

“Inko Shimura,” All for One said, tone even, almost smug. “I need you to take care of her.”

Hisashi looked up at him. His mind - which had only seen the inside of a mad scientist’s laboratory - latched onto this seemingly easy task. The doctor - Garaki, if he recalled correctly - made him do endless amounts of lessons in language. 

All for One smiled at him, and he smiled back. 

“Understand?” His better asked, hovering over Hisashi who continued to hold onto the file. 

He did. “Perfectly.”

-x-x-x-

Creating a clone had been the doctor’s plan. He, the doctor, had one. And with his idol worship of All for One, it was the logical next step. 

All for One, though, hadn’t seen the use in having one. Outside of distracting heroes, the idea of having another one of him (literally) running around made All for One feel uneasy. He didn’t need another one of him. There only needed to be one him (just like there had only been one Yoichi). 

But the doctor was persistent, and with All Might growing closer and closer, he finally gave in. 

He gave up a vial of blood, and the doctor worked his magic. From nothing came something. And from that something, All for One eventually gained an extra set of hands. Which was especially helpful, given what needed to be done with the Shimura lineage. Or what remained of them anyway. 

All for One already had Nana’s son, Kotaro, and his family cornered. But it’s hard to keep an eye on and meddle in the affairs of her daughter - the one she tried so laughably hard to keep from him. Even abandoning her with no name in some hospital in the middle of nowhere. 

Inko Akatani was a nobody. Doomed to a lifetime of being ordinary and loveless. If All for One wasn’t so committed to being the most evil, he might feel a bit bad for her. The young woman had certainly never done anything to him, having not even been born when her biological father died. 

But he had a plan in mind. And his plans were absolute, at least when it comes to this. The slightest divergence could result in the whole outcome raining down on him like a house of cards. 

So, it should have been reasonable that he handed Inko Akatani’s file over to his clone. 

His clone that held the exact same memories as him, without the feelings attached to them, stared up at him. “Understand?” He asked. The poor foolish thing nodded, smiling. 

“Perfectly.”

And All for One didn’t think about Inko Akatani again ... until he did. 

-x-x-x-

It’s a hot day in the middle of July.

The Shimura family has whittled down to one. Well, it was supposed to be one.

He stands outside the hospital room. All for One would rather not blow his cover on something as silly as an inferior not following orders. A group of nurses pass him. They don’t spare him a single glance, likely already having been briefed by Garaki. 

All for One thinks about calling the buffoon again, but the last ten have all gone to voicemail. He has much better things to do instead of standing here. The only thing keeping All for One from bursting in is the uncertainty of the situation. 

He knows this is the labor and delivery floor. 

He knows that his clone is on the other side of the door with that Shimura woman. 

And he knows that she’s giving birth. 

Everything else is left up in the air. 

In hindsight, maybe leaving his clone to his own devices was a bad idea. 

There’s another scream. Loud and obnoxious, just as the last several have been. But there’s something different about them this time. Louder perhaps, or more concentrated instead of spread out. 

And then, it’s completely silent. 

Almost eerily so. 

The lights overhead buzz, flickering. And a phone rings somewhere near the nurse’s station down the hall. 

All for One starts to pull his cellphone out. Maybe now he can call-

A cry pierces the quiet. It’s shrill and high-pitch, like babies' cries tend to be. 

He stiffens. The noise is familiar - he’s heard infants cry aplenty - but something about it makes him a bit weak. And what scares him more is the fact that he can’t decipher in which way. 

All for One pushes past his moment of weakness to knock on the door loudly. 

A nurse answers the door, a scowl on her face. The moment she sees All for One her eyes widened. She wordlessly motions him inside. 

The room is filled with the sounds of a brand-new infant’s screams. Nurses huddle around the baby, blocking All for One’s view. He ignores it for now, turning to his real target. 

“Congrats, Akatani-san,” he says, walking over to the hospital bed. They look at him. Akatani-san’s hair is plastered to her forehead, and she’s a bit pale. She looks up at his clone. 

“Hisashi,” she murmurs. “Who is this?”

His clone looks between him and the last remaining Shimura pest (well, outside of Tenko, and now, the baby). He can almost hear him thinking from here, which is a shame because if he put a single thought into any of this in the first place, then none of this would be occurring. 

“A friend from work,” his clone says, pressing a kiss to Akatani-san’s temple in assurance. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“O-okay.”

He follows All for One back into the hallway. 

The minute the door is shut, All for One’s jabbing his finger into his clone’s chest. “You,” he spits, “had one job.”

“I know,” he says. “But I-”

“But nothing. I gave you a task. Not ten, not three, not two. One. The only reason you exist is to make my life easier, and how do you repay me?”

His clone narrows his eyes. “You told me to ‘take care’ of Inko Akatani, did you not?”

All for One blinks, confused. “Yes, and?”

“And I did.” His clone speaks as if it should be obvious. “I thought it would be hard and that I would have to fake it, but I was surprised how easy it was once I got to know her.” He clasps his hands together, swooning. “Inko is something special. Really she is.”

All for One tilts his head to the side. “What?”

“The hardest part was trying to befriend her without suspicion. But after that, we hit it off.” His clone furrows his eyebrows, looking at the ground. His next words are mumbled. “Maybe a little too well.”

Again, All for One can only reply with, “what?”

“Admittedly, it was a series of foolish decisions, but Inko got pregnant after only a few months of us dating. Which was quite a shock to the system, but I think we’re handling it pretty well.”

All for One finally processes what his clone is saying to him. “You….you had a child?” He can’t even summon the energy to be upset - the anger will come later, he’s sure of it. Right now he’s in shock. 

There’s a faint pink hue to his clone’s cheeks, as if he’s embarrassed. “Like I said, I know it was foolish on our behalf. But the baby and Inko are healthy and that’s all that matters.” His eyes sparkle with fatherly pride. 

The weak feeling returns, and All for One has to lean against a nearby wall. His clone gasps, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“I want to hold it,” he says once the feeling has passed. “And that isn’t a request. Let me hold it, or there will be consequences far beyond your comprehension.”

“Don’t hurt my baby,” his clone pleads, sensing his anger. “I did everything right. I took care of her.”

“You fool,” All for One snaps. “When I said ‘take care of her’ I meant kill her. Not wine and dine and have a baby with her.”

“I don’t care. I won’t let you hurt them,” he says, without missing a beat. His voice is dripping with determination All for One’s only heard from dying One for All users. It brings his slowly brewing anger to the surface. 

“Now!” He hits the wall, denting it. 

His clone remains steadfast. “Promise you won’t hurt them.”

All for One grits his teeth. The weak feeling returns with a vengeance, but he’ll be damned if he shows that side of himself again. “Fine. Now, let me hold the baby.”

-x-x-x-

His clone passes him the baby. The tiny pathetic thing that shouldn’t exist. An abomination. The metaphorical wrench in his plans. 

All for One’s held lots of babies. Little Tenko being the most recent. But it always surprises him how small they are. And this one somehow feels even smaller. 

The white hair on its tiny head almost has a wave to it, and if it’s anything like his, he knows it will one day become untameable curls. His little hands are curled into tiny fists, and when All for One unballs one of them for a closer look, his heart drops into his stomach.

Because there, in the center of this little abomination’s palm, is a bottomless hole. Just like….

He swallows, putting the thought out of his mind.

It coos, tiny body curling closer to All for One’s chest. Its tiny head lays right over his heart, as if listening for his heartbeat. 

He stares down at the tiny pathetic thing, and it chooses right then, as he stares at it, to open its eyes. 

Green. They’re green. The exact same shade as Yoichi’s! 

All for One continues to stare. And in the little being’s eyes he sees everything that could have been. All the suffering and needless chasing of someone that never truly wanted to be his. He sees a life that could have been his, if only he gave up on One for All.

 He sees the innocence in those eyes. An innocence that he was never afforded, but instead of his usual thought of wanting to snuff it out. All he can think of is wanting to protect it for as long as humanly possible. 

This tiny, pathetic being, an abomination, the wrench in his plans, is suddenly the most important person in the world to All for One. To him, this child is beyond perfection. Perfectly imperfect. 

His brother used to say his power, All for One, could have been the kindest in the world. The fool had a heart of gold and a head full of air, but maybe Yoichi had been right about this one thing. Maybe with the right guidance and morals, the little one could show the world how not evil All for One as a quirk is.

And then, he remembers that the HPSC exists and all thoughts of heroics are thrown out the window. It’s through that thought that he remembers who he is. Evil through and through. 

(Then why does his heart feel so heavy all of a sudden?)

Still, the little one’s green eyes blink up at him. A lazy, barely-there smile on its face. He makes a decision right then, placing a palm on the infant’s downy head. 

“No!” His clone shouts, arms outstretched as he runs straight at All for One. “Don’t!” 

He sidesteps the man easily, removing his hand from the infant’s forehead. His clone rips the baby from his arms, backing away.

The clone roves the baby over for any outward injuries. 

“What did you do?” He hisses, eyes wild and wide. He holds the baby protectively to his chest. It doesn’t react, seemingly exhausted from having his quirk factor blocked. 

“I gave him a chance at a normal life.”

“That….that doesn’t answer my question.”

All for One sighs. “I used a combination of…..” he trails off. For once, the allure of monologuing about quirks doesn’t excite him. “It doesn’t matter.”

His clone glares at him. “It does matter. What the hell did you do to my son!?” 

Oh, so it’s a boy. Another thing the baby shares with Yoichi. 

“I gave him a chance.” I made him good. I made him, in society’s eyes, better. “The effects won’t be evident for about a year, but after that it will be like he never had All for One.”

“You- you took his quirk!?” The man looks two seconds from pummeling All for One to the ground. His arms seem to shield the tiny bundle from view. A father’s protective rage driven almost to the brink. 

Even with a weak appearance-altering quirk to help his clone blend in (making him shorter and giving him softer facial features), All for One feels somewhat threatened. Of course, clone of him or not, the pathetic copy of himself won’t stand a chance. All the so-called powerful quirks were withheld just in case. 

“No,” All for One drawls, annoyed. “I blocked it. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know society won’t accept him.”

“Because of you.”

He smirks, relishing in the way his clone squirms. “I’ll let you think that.” 

The baby cries, and All for One has to fight the urge to reach out for him. His clone shushes the infant, bouncing him. “Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.”

Izuku , he thinks to himself. What a perfect name for such a perfect being.

The weak feeling returns. He watches the scene with a sense of longing. His fingers twitch at his sides. “I can hold him-”

“No,” his clone snaps at once. 

All for One stands down, though he quickly grows impatient. He has much better things to do, especially if his clone can’t even calm a crying baby (Izuku. His name is Izuku. I will remember that name from now until the end of time. My child. My baby. My Izuku). 

“Well, I should be going,” All for One says, turning on his heels. He stuffs his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from trying to steal the baby away. 

“Wait, that’s it?” His clone asks, dumbfounded. 

All for One pauses, his back to the inferior version of himself. “For now.” 

He doesn’t stop walking until he gets outside. All thoughts of murdering his clone for his betrayal put aside for happier ones of his (by proxy) son’s cute little face.

[vaspider]

Yo, so this is less so a specific ask and more me having the need to verbalize some stuff with the option of getting input from someone with a more knowledgable perspective. I have been thinking a fair bit about Judaism and dabbling with the idea of converting to it. I don’t think it’s something for me, but I am tentatively thinking about the option.

The thing is. I assume you’re familiar with the difference between hard magic and soft magic systems in writing. (If not, the tldr is hard magic is defined with hard rules and limitations and soft magic is more ambiguous and fluid.) And I think my basic thing is that I am very open to what you could call soft spirituality and faith, but unable to jell with any hard beliefs.

For example I can never get myself to really entertain the idea of an afterlife being set up in a very specific way with specific rules and where you know what is happening and why. But I saw that tweet that went around a while ago that was like “I hope that death is like being a child at a party and falling asleep, so somebody carries you to bed and I hope when I die I can still hear the laughter from the other room” and that fucked me up beyond words.

I have gone through a couple religions and beliefs over my life and never found a framework that really fit with me, but in the past couple of years I have developed a lot and realized I have a yearning for spiritual things. My current view could probably best be described as a pantheist leaning agnostic enamored with the idea of belief and experience shaping purpose and giving structure… sort of. As well as the power of belief and to change the way you see the world for the better. It’s hard to explain specifically the angle I like.

The reason I am caught up on Judaism rn is that in a lot of ways it seems to be based around a lot of soft spirituality. I am absolutely in love with the idea that god, or the divine, or spirit, whatever one may call it is not something concrete, not one existence, but more of a force like the laws of physics, or the rules of math. I adore the idea of little rituals and rules to bring god into your life and through that connecting you to culture and history and people and community and spirituality. I love the idea you talked about some time in the past of the four kinds of jews, based on studying the scriptures and following the rules, and that even those who do neither are still a vital part of the jewish people and are needed for it to be whole. There’s so many little details that appeal to me so strongly, because they’re exactly the kind of stuff I am yearning for.

But I feel like the hard aspects keep me away. I love the idea of rules and rituals to shape your life, but I don’t think I could follow the rules of Judaism, because having a preset set of rules feels too hard for me. Similarly I love the idea of studying the texts and the never ending pursuit of decifering the meaning and arguing about it, but I don’t think I could get interested in ever doing it, because having a specific text to do it with is too hard.

So I feel very conflicted, because the way Judaism feels to me from the outside, it shows me both the soft aspects of spirituality I absolutely adore and yearn for, and at the same time the hard aspects that keep me away from religion. And they feel very connected and interwoven.

And it feels like especially as a convert being a part of it is connected with a huge amount of the hard aspects and a lot of work that goes into those. I’d have to first figure out if there is even any jewish denominations (is that the right word?) near where I live that don’t do circumcision and that aren’t on the conservative side (I have no idea how the situation is where I live) and then do all the studies and the entire process involved in converting (which I admittedly don’t know very much about either, so I might be overstating this) to be part of something I would immediately take a half step away from because I’m only really interested in the ideas behind the actual elements of it and not as much the elements themselves if that makes sense?

I guess this is pretty rambly, but maybe you have some input, or something smart to say and if not I hope I’m not coming across as this guy right now:

I think that in the process of writing this ask, you seem to have figured out that this isn't for you right now. If you get to a point where all of those things aren't standing in your way but are a to-do list, that will be when you know it's for you.

And they're generally called movements, not denominations.

[riverhag2]

my favorite characters die in my favorite media all the damn time

my current hyper focus is a tragic opera that ends with my blorbo having his life flash before his eyes in a horrid fever dream where he's confronted for perhaps the first time with how horribly he's failed everyone he's ever loved and then he dies

death isn't the problem

pointless and hurried stuff-her-in-a-fridge death that doesn't actually even serve the narrative purpose cobbled together as an after-the-fact explanation is the problem

the idea that Izzy's arc was "over" is frankly ludicrous

he'd only just begun to rediscover the parts of himself he'd buried away or lost to piracy, to Blackbeard, to Ed

he'd only just found love with the crew

he'd only just started the arc that Stede and Ed set off on in the beginning of s1

his death does nothing for his character

it also does nothing for anyone else's

smarter people than me have spoken extensively on why the "mentor/father figure" thing is just outright non-existent in the text

even without that, the show is obviously trying to use Izzy's death to free Ed from the mantle of blackbeard and that would be a valid and interesting narrative choice if you'd set that up at any point before the last five minutes of the last episode but um

Ed had already begun the work of releasing himself from blackbeard, and even when he dons the leathers once again, it's not even the tiniest bit for Izzy's sake nor in any way at Izzy's insistence or encouragement (and in fact, Izzy had already encouraged him to step away from it)

whatever is still tying Ed to blackbeard, it is textually very much not Izzy

Izzy's dying sentiment of "they love you" holds no water because out of Ed, Stede, and Izzy, only one of them has actually connected with the crew this season and it sure as fuck isn't Ed

Izzy's dying admonition of "you're surrounded by family" is immediately followed by Ed and Stede fucking off and leaving the ship

there's nothing in Izzy's death that serves Ed narratively

there's apparently then the argument that Izzy is representative of old piracy, a dying world, and therefore he must die (which, ok, fine, but to what end?) but that's *actually insane* in the context of a show entirely about starting over in middle age

killing a character is often a good narrative choice, but if you're gonna kill him, doing it with a stray bullet in the middle of his arc in a way that does nothing to further anyone else's narrative is at best a cheap emotional punch

death also is the problem though

in a show where mortal wounds seem to pass almost unnoticed amongst our heroes, casual death by a stray bullet is bonkers

in a show where the only real villain is a cruel and corrupt state, to punish with death someone at the mercy of that cruel and corrupt state is bonkers

most importantly: in a show that presented itself as ultimately being about queer outsiders finding family in each other, there's no good reason for any of the foundlings to die

even assuming they're planning some miraculous resurrection for Izzy in s3, they work very hard to show you precisely how dead he is here

they want you to know and believe that he absolutely is dead

Lucius falls into the sea in a way that no one ever once believed actually meant he was dead

in contrast, we watch the light go out of Izzy's eyes after he tells Ed he's ready to go

we see him buried in the dirt

if this truly is meant to be impermanent, then it is even more cruel and meaningless than if they actually just killed him for nothing and no amount of "indestructible little fucker" foreshadowing redeems it

I hate everything about this ending, for everyone involved

it's such a disappointment

[beetlesau]

Chapter 8, long overdue and unedited.

apologiessss.

"It's a flower," you stated matter-of-factly. You were sat in the middle of an empty parking lot, picking at the weeds that grew between the old cracked pavement.  

"I know what a flower is, dummy." Bakugo scoffed as he threw the small bloomed weed at your head. He stood and dusted his pants off before holding out a hand to help you stand as well. 

"Well, you're looking at it like it's foreign to that brain of yours." you followed his lead, but in protest refused the helping hand.

"What is your favorite?" he barked suddenly, eyes boring into yours.

"Wh-what?", the aggression of such a simple question threw you off, "My favorite flower? I don't know if I have one... Actually, does cactus count? Wait, no. I mean they do flower, but--"

"Nevermind." he rolled his eyes. 

"So rude! I guess the Violet? Simple, colorful, smells decent." 

"Okay." 

"Nice conversation, Bakugo. Can we go back noooow?" you moved anxiously to face the direction of his old neighborhood. 

"No," he grumbled. "All day in the cold house and got sick from it." he grabbed the back of your shirt to hold you from stepping further away. 

"I didn't get sick! I just couldn't feel my fingers after a while. Besides, we got the house cleaned and prepped, right? Worth it?"

Bakugo grunted in disapproval. 

It had been at least a month since that night he shared the sadness he held over his mother. Since then, a lot has happened. He helped you set up a perimeter of fencing, wrapping a few houses with the least amount of damage to them. Cleaning out each one, making sure the floors were stable, and the beds were in decent shape. The cabinets were filled with cans of food you'd collected on long tiring trips back and forth with a tin wagon. Not that the Dead had any interest in eating at this point still, but you were determined to be prepped for anything. 

You and Bakugo had just finished setting up an additional house the day before. He noticed you were getting a bit sluggish and pale. The last straw was when he saw you shivering when you thought he wasn't looking. He kicked you out of the house and now today refused to let you anywhere near the project houses. 

The houses were for the Dead. It was your idea that the best way to help them was to give them what they no longer had. A home. A reason to feel alive again. 

You did your best, often overexerting yourself, until he pulled you back each time, forcing you to give him some of this responsibility. 

You had your own house set up, although outside the perimeter. You'd decided living in an apartment with a large hole in the side of it was not as cool as it seemed. It took a good three days to move all of your trinkets and junk.

Bakugo insisted you be outside the fence, safe from the Dead, but still within his bedroom window's view, under his watchful, annoying, borderline obsessive, protection. 

You knew it was for your safety, but you could see all the changes going through the eyes of your new friends. 

You chose the Dead that were all trapped on the bridge to start with. Your long-standing self-appointed friends. After the task of getting them from point A to point B, Bakugo led them inside the new gated community. Alone with you, they were unresponsive, still seeing everything through hungry eyes. But, with Bakugo by your side, they seemed to just... sense something. You couldn't tell if it was... fear? of the absolute death glare, he'd give them if they even so much as looked at you with mouth agape. Or maybe it was the way he stood by you. He was not a weak-bodied Dead, nor weak-minded. You wondered if they could feel the strength that emanated from him. You noticed it more and more every day since enacting your rehabilitation plans.  

He was kind of... amazing. 

And caring.

And as he learned to talk again, you understood him in more ways than just language. 

On more than one occasion, you found yourself staring at him. Which seldom went unnoticed by the firey blonde, considering he was staring right back. 

It was impossible for even the longest Dead to not notice that kind of connection, it would seem. 

You'd never been so impatient about anything in your life. Things were exciting for once, a rare thing. 

But here you were today, following the orders of your co-captain, to get some warmth from the great outdoors, take a deep breath, and talk about flowers. 

"Ugh, fiiiine. Well, what are you making me do next, warden?"

"Hmm. Good question. We need more firewood. You are a baby and will freeze to death at night." he looked off in the direction he intended to head, not so much as a hint of acknowledgment that he'd just insulted you. 

"I- Fine. Aye-Aye, Captain! let's get some firewood." you began to dramatically march off the way he was looking before he grabbed your shirt collar again, pulling an exaggerated yelp from you. 

"Hey, what gives! I'm getting your stinking firewood-"

"Hold my hand," he stated blankly.

"W-what?" you were suddenly a bit too warmed by the Sun. You gulped, perhaps you misheard him.

"I said, hold my hand. I don't want you running off, or falling, or getting into trouble, or leaving my sight." he carried on just enough to make you scream.

"Agh! OKAY! Shut up and take my hand then!" he made you feel less embarrassed right away, you'd do anything to make him stop teasing you so relentlessly. 

You whipped up your hand, making quick gimme motions like a child. 

He smirked. 

SMIRKED.

And just like that, you were embarrassed again. 

"WHY are you making that face, Bakugo?"

"It's nothing. Let's go." he brushed past you. 

"Well, now I don't wanna." you paused, suddenly the most shit-eating grin creeping on your face. You turned your heel and ran as fast as your unathletic, clumsy figure would take you. 

"EH!? NO!" you heard him yell, but didn't stop.

You may have gotten a head start, but you knew there was no way you could outrun him.

It was just a joke. 

You didn't know what would happen. 

But you triggered something unintentionally. 

As you run, you could already hear him gaining on you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as he was within arms reach. You set off your quirk, just enough to go unseen for a moment as you made a sharp turn and doubled back, towards the piles of wood Bakugo intended on gathering. 

Unfortunately, as clever as it was, it was not enough to throw him off. 

You gained only a second more before he was behind you again. 

You couldn't see him, but you could hear him. He didn't seem right. His breathing was ragged and animalistic. You no longer felt like you were playing a game. You felt like prey that was in the midst of its final moments of life. A hand grabbed your arm and you were thrown off balance and hit the ground face-first. You could feel the sting on your lip before tasting the copper tang that filled your mouth. You'd busted your lower lip but that was the least of your worries. 

In no time you were flipped over and pinned. 

The way he looked. It was like you were seeing him in your room for the first time again. It was feral. Your running must have triggered a desire he'd been fighting all along. 

This time you had your hands free just enough to push against his chest, your knuckles white from your grip on his shirt. You weren't strong enough to hold him long. 

"Bakugo! Bakugo! Bakugo!" your voice cracked and strained as you screamed again and again. Hot tears blurred your vision before running down the sides of your face. 

"Not like this. Not like this, Bakugo." your terror was not for yourself this time. This time thoughts of Bakugo afterward flooded in and suffocated you. He'd be alone. He'd be angry at himself. He'd never get over this. This isn't something he deserved. It's not something he asked for. 

In your last-ditch efforts, you silently prayed for him to forgive himself. Then, before he'd gotten down to your level on the ground, you pushed yourself up to meet him, taking his mouth to your own. 

You could feel his lips as you desperately tried to claim them before his teeth claimed your flesh. Your torn lip fills the space in your mouth with blood. He was still for a moment, his brain processing the movement. 

His arms snaked around your back, fingernails hard against your skin it felt like he was trying to tear into you with his hands alone. 

But then they kept wrapping, and the touch became lighter. Kinder. 

His tongue lapped at your lip before taking it again between his. One second it was about the sensation of blood filling his mouth then it was all about you. 

You could feel his tears falling to your cheek as he began to sob. 

"I'm sorry. Dammit. I'm so sorry." he held you like you were made of gold. 

He rocked back and forth with you as one, every breath an apology and a curse on himself as you both wept. 

"Bakugo." you sniffled. "Katsuki. You stopped. You did it. God. fuck. That was so scary." you laughed and cried at the same time. 

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, unable to meet your eyes. You knew how much pain he was in. You could feel it like it was your own. 

"Can we go home, Katsuki?" you were exhausted. 

"Katsuki," he repeated.

"Yeah, that's you. Is it okay if I call you that?"

"It's more than okay. I'm sorry. Yes, please. Let's get you home." he was shaking. 

He stood, pulling you up with him. 

Neither of you was ready to move. And you weren't ready to let go of him. He didn't seem to mind. 

"Do you hate me?" he whispered. 

"No. I don't think I could if I tried."

"Stupid."

"I guess we should... talk about what happened just now?" you sighed. 

"Yeah... uh, maybe later?" he laughed humorlessly. 

"Are you embarrassed for once?" you looked up at him.

"Embarrassed for almost eating you?" he scrunched his brows.

"No. For kissing me."

"WH-wh, what! You kissed ME!" 

"No. I mean, I did. But I was in a panic. What's your excuse?"

He turned a faint shade of pink. 

"Wait. Your face." something new. 

"Katsuki, your face is pink. You're blushing!"

"You really are sick. Seeing things?" he lifted a hand to feel your forehead for a fever. "I can't be pink I don't have any blood flow. You know, Dead."

"No, I'm serious. Look at me."

"Stop messing around, come on let's get ba-" Katsuki coughed. Clearing his throat he stopped in his tracks. He looked as though a shock had coursed through him. He held his chest, profusely coughing. 

"Katsuki? What's wrong!?"

Katsuki suddenly fell over, unresponsive. 

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Food for thoughts: Lan Sect Wei Wuxian could lead Lan Qiren to reconsider the rules, the amount, the purpose of them, and what they truly stand for.

If they're just there to give guidance, shouldn't lessons or morality their sect motto be enough?

If they're there to contorl their sect members, to leave them little agency and choice, then what kind of sect do they want to become?

Wei Wuxian's presence within the Lan Sext could be the catalyst for that kind of a change. A reflection for Lan Qiren on how far he has allowed the rules to contorl his life, and those if his nephews.

Does he want the Sect to stifle Wei Wuxian, to mold him into the antithesis of himself? More importantly what does Wei Wuxian want?

How can Lan Qiren reconcile the idea that a child has desires outside of what are considered appropriate for a child (talismens designs, staying up late, trauma inspired habits from living on the streets, like hiding food, hoarding every little thing he considered 'useful' or every gift he's given. His tendency to hide food based gifts because he doesn't think/know he can have them again... etc)

How could he ask? And what would it look like to his nephews if he gives freedom for a strangers child that he does not them? How can he balance caring for Wei Wuxian who is traumatized in a different way without Lan Huan and Lan Zhan questioning if he loves them?

Two things could happen for Wei Wuxian in the Lan sect depending on where you want to take it.

One: he absolutely enthralls his teachers with his enthusiasm to learn, to consume anything related to Cultivation and quickly proves his genius.

In turn the Lan sect comes to the uncomfortable realization that they have a static way it teaching, one that does not help their students, but browbeats them and expects them to confirm to the Lan thinking.

Two: the teachers are annoyed and their dicks to Wei Wuxian and his presence in the Lan Sect always feels unwelcome.

Character driven stories like this focus on the feelings of everyone involved, ultimately is this a story where Wei Wuxian finds a home in the Lan Sect? Or does he find a home in the world beyond?

If your goal is to make the Lan sect a home for Wei Wuxian, it is the people around him that will sell that.

Lan Qiren- resolution for his character (given the story so far. I haven't read all the updates, don't get mad, I'm sorry I'll read them soon.) I think taking the mantle of sect leader completely would be best. Him stepping into a role he doesn't want, but can't make room or a home for his nephews or Wei Wuxian if he doesn't, might be a good way to go?

Wei Wuxian-considers Lan Qiren a second father? (Er-fuqin?) He sees what Lan Qiren had done for him, out of kindness and love? And sets forth to do the same?

A theme running through canon and fics : family isn't just blood and big dramatic displays. It's a daily choice.

I'm not sure if any of those helps. It's been a few months since I read the fic, I'm sorry if this is just a waste of time

That's not a waste of time at all! (And don't feel bad about not being caught up, I'd never be mad at that ❤)

I think you're absolutely right that a lot of LQR's growth needs to come from re-learning his own place in the Sect and some of the things that maybe he'd always taken for granted that WWX helps him see don't necessarily need to stay as they are. It's something he's already done in small doses throughout the entire fic/his relationship with raising WWX as a very traumatized and free-spirited child alongside his own differently-traumatized and much more reticent nephews, so I don't think there's any reason not to expand that to the Sect/rules as a whole!

And as far as WWX goes, I definitely want him to have a permanent home in the Sect which means yes, some things will need to change to accommodate him, and that's something that can be done out of love for a boy who's a truly prodigious cultivator who can help everyone see that there's more than one way to do things.

These are all very good thoughts, thank you for taking the time to send them in!

[lily-radiance]

Even Flowers Can Bloom In The Winter- Bleach- Aizen, Byakuya, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra x reader

Chapter 3

/Click for chap 1/ chap 2/

Taglist: @erensl1ut @chrissie2003

"What's going on in here, lieutenant Abarai -"

Captain Hitsugaya had walked in, immediately ready to grab your wrist if need be, but you allowed the blade to blow away, specks of snow dissipating entirely as the shorter captain was disappointed.

"Lieutenant Abarai, you may leave us. Go about your duties." Toshiro instructed indifferently.

The door shut behind your colleague, leaving you alone with your superior. 

"Lieutenant (L/N)...."

His tone had changed, becoming softer as he approached the bedside, trying his best to keep you calm.

"I know what you're going to say Captain, that I should be resting, using this time to recuperate, but I'm telling you I felt fine during the training, honestly."

He breathed out a sigh at your prepared speech, shaking his head.

"I don't personally hold you responsible for this, and I do understand your frustrations with Captain Kuchiki, but pushing yourself to exhaustion, hiding information, and raising your blade towards your colleague, is inexcusable."

You waited for him to continue to scold you, but were surprised when he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to show no hostility.

"We all have our own opinions, our own ways of thinking, and everyone is entitled to that opinion. But that doesn't mean one opinion is right while others are wrong, especially in this scenario. Every captain who voted for your recommendation, did so because we have an immense faith in you. That doesn't mean Captain Kuchiki lacks faith, but he's still skeptical of your limits, and only argued his opinion because he thought it would keep you safe."

He placed a hand on the back of his neck, hair standing on end.

"And maybe he was right, but we can't know for sure until we test this theory. So you need to rest before you take these risks, rivalry or not. If you do not comply, you can and will be watched by a trusted member of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, do you understand? That means no missions, no training, no fights in the Seireitei, and absolutely no use of your zanpakuto for a specified amount of time."

Sometimes you forget how bossy the smaller man could be, remembering to watch your step when crossing lines.

"So how long until I can leave the infirmary? Or be trusted enough to walk around outside without a bodyguard?"

Impatient as always, you asked for an exact timeline of when and how your recovery was to begin.

"There is no exact answer, lieutenant, as it all depends on your condition and choices. If you stick to routines, take your medication, rest and recover without a complaint, about one year exactly until you are allowed to be on your own once more. If you act out or deliberately disobey commanding officers, the time can be extended. So don't cause any trouble, okay?"

You gave him your hand, offering to shake his own as a show of your agreement to the deal and its rules. 

"Captain Hitsugaya, if I may share an honest opinion with you, can you be straight with me?"

His blue eyes narrowed at your question but he ultimately accepted, knowing much was weighing heavily on your heart.

"When the announcement for the recommendations came in, I was so excited for more training, the very idea made me feel ready for the chance to impress you all. I was sure I would be instructed to learn more from you about ice zanpakuto types, but Soi Fon was selected instead. Is there any reason that might be?"

He was certainly surprised by your question, but there was no polite answer.

"Byakuya Kuchiki is your current captain and therefore in charge of assigning your training schedule. He thought that since my training was not sufficient enough that you needed a change of pace, hence why he chose Soi Fon and Aizen. Honestly I don't think the ice is the full issue, but your release of spiritual pressure is constantly changing. If you want to get better, and prove Byakuya Kuchiki wrong, you'll need to fully understand your own flaws in battle. Not doing so will only hold you back farther, hurting not only your reputation, but the strength of the sixth division as a whole."

So your training to gain control while fixing your shaky reputation has begun. If only you could predict the many twists that would come through the following year.

—--------------------------------------

Time Changes 

Time had passed so quickly, making changes to the Soul Society, and you as well. The year prior, your agreement with Toshiro Hitsugaya was set in stone, making you rebuild the very foundations of your life. At first it felt like such a punishment, to be banned and excluded from the normal activities of day to day life.

Tension was always felt in the air as you passed citizens and soldiers, unclear whispers spoken in hushed tones. Eyes glancing away at a fast pace, hoping you didn't notice the stares marking your back. But you got used to it, so much so that it no longer was a bother, instead serving as another motivator to do better.

Your secrets were no longer as safe or respected as they had been in the past, rumors like wildfire ghosted over every nook and cranny of the Seireitei, making any previous connection with Byakuya Kuchiki seem insignificant. He was still your captain, but no longer did you greet him at the office, or ask him to rest, but stayed short and curt when given orders. If you were to drop off paperwork, you would state your business, complete the task and carry on with your day like nothing ever happened.

You met his eyes every now and then, but would not acknowledge his presence unless spoken to directly. In return for your cold personality, he remained indifferent as ever, unable to articulate how he regretted pushing your hand and threatening your position. 

"I can't believe you did that, Renji, seriously you need to be more careful with hollow encounters!" Rukia's voice spoke from the office lobby.

Renji was trying to keep up with her criticism, but found himself busy staring at your frame at a designated desk, clearly frustrated as you flipped through piles of paperwork and signed with little care as to what was requested on the document.

You had removed your eyes from the request, looking out your doorway when you saw the redhead staring back. Without much hesitation you stood up and closed the screen door that led to your office quarters, hoping for some piece of mind.

Rukia noticed his line of sight, placing a hand on his arm to remind him that your sour mood was not his fault. 

"She barely interacts with any of our peers, not even me anymore. It's like she's blocked out the entire world besides work, and she doesn't look like the (Y/N) I know. It's as though something flipped a switch on her heart, she doesn't see Rangiku as much either, although that's probably because that idiot let out her secret in front of some rookies without a care."

His mind wandered to the day you had discovered her treachery, forgetting common sense and being blinded by the ghost of betrayal. Rumors always found their way back to you, invoking a storm to erupt inside your gut. Not only had you trusted her, but she knew everything, every little detail that made you tick. So the fact that you had also cut tight ties with her was a worrying sign.

She had apologized profusely, but it was no use as the damage had been dealt to your uneasy mind. You still said hello in the hallways, gave awkward smiles when forced to be near each other, and stayed polite, but that was all.

"Renji, you know Rangiku didn't mean anything by it, but (Y/N) thought she did. The people she held close turned around and spilled a big secret, and now she doesn't know who to trust."

As Rukia spoke to Renji, the sound of your door opening and closing resonated throughout the room, making them equally statuesque as you passed by without a word. As you passed they both felt a burst of cold air, no doubt a warning sign from you.

Across the room they could see you talking to the captain, no emotion except for the slight tinge of irritation that was exposed by the shove of papers towards his hand and the slam of his office door. As they saw you leave the building, they collectively let out a sigh of distress.

"How has Captain Kuchiki been doing, Rukia?"

She was trying desperately to think of any positive outcomes in the past year, but could find nothing but bitter memories. While Byakuya had never shown her much of a familial connection, he has never been this distant or distracted, causing her worry to increase.

"Same as the last few months, how about (Y/N)?"

Renji's silence spoke volumes, indicating that this affliction would not end anytime soon, even if Byakuya were to apologize or you were to forgive him. There was a stalemate between you two, neither one making a step to better the conditions of your cracked relationship, letting it drift away with time and negligence.

"The only thing I can think of is her connection with Captain Aizen and Captain Hitsugaya, they're the only people she's close with at the moment. She's even stopped playing her usual round of games with Yachiru. I don't know who she is anymore."

The dark haired woman reached out a hand, trying to ease the mind of her childhood friend.

"Is there anything I can do to help you out with her? With work?"

At times like these, he was glad he had Rukia for a friend, but her big brother was currently your nemesis, making him doubt her abilities.

"Can you help out the captain? He is your brother after all, and I can focus on (Y/N). The only problem I can think of is her avoidance tactics. And even if I do talk to her alone she just stays quiet, and by the time I'm done she's out the door."

Rukia suddenly turned to Renji, grabbing his arm and pulling him along, causing him to stumble. Once they were alone in one of the hallways she began.

"Then we make her listen, to everyone who she'd normally listen to, and we host a meeting expressing our concerns with her behavior. If we let her know that we want to help her, maybe we could understand each other."

Unfortunately, Rukia and Renji had not thought this through entirely, the meeting hall beginning to fill as people filed in. Of course to make you unsuspecting, you were told that it was a plan between captains and lieutenants to assign lower ranked shinigami to missions and tasks.

The plan began to make you feel cornered as only certain captains and lieutenants entered, each one invited and assumed to be close to you.

Soi Fon, Hitsugaya, Rangiku, Yumichika, Momo, Renji, Yachiru, Rukia, Komamura, Kyoraku, Ukitake, Shuhei, and Unohana sat on one side of the long table, staring at you with blank eyes.

"So there is no meeting today, I should have known better. So what else are we criticizing, today? Because surely I'm not the only reason you all put aside your actual work?"

Your tone was not welcoming, an air of sarcasm at the actions taken behind your back. No one spoke, afraid to say anything that could escalate the situation.

"I don't understand what else you want from me, what else do I have to do to prove I'm worthy enough to be on my own? I followed your rules, I obeyed and didn't bat an eye, but clearly I must have missed a step, especially when you can't even look me up and down without that hesitation!"

Rangiku could feel her eyes growing irritated, her body trying to hold back tears at the sight of your anger. She hadn't meant to blabber on to Toshiro, or the rookie soldiers who put two and two together when the ginger mentioned how a certain captain was lovesick.

While she hadn't said your name, the public could distinguish the bond between you and the fifth division captain.

When it reached Byakuya, he was furious.

When it reached Momo, she was heartbroken.

When Toshiro and everyone else heard, they remained at a distance, afraid of what their reactions could do.

"We're not here to scold you lieutenant (L/N), but rather express our concern for how the year has affected you, how it's affecting all of us."

You were surprised to hear Komamura speak, expecting Toshiro or Renji to lead the meeting. Your sandals hit the linoleum floors repeatedly, legs moving in slow paces around the room as you examined the ones in charge.

"How can you ask me that, when you're the one who forced me into it? All of you claim to understand, to feel sympathy, but you couldn't be further from understanding. Do you know what it's like to be unable to access your spirit energy? To be stuck between loneliness and judgment? To ask yourself if you'd rather sit with your thoughts or go outside with whispers following your every movement?"

Everyone could feel the air grow tight, trapping them in their uncomfortable emotions. Toshiro, Rangiku and Renji could feel your presence watching them, analyzing them, ripping their heart to shreds without a second thought.

"If you want to suggest that I'm personally trying to get back at each of you, at any of you, ask yourself why you think I would want to hurt any of you? Because if I'm being honest, I'm angry, I'm disappointed, but I would never hate any of you, let alone want to cause you more pain. So try to understand that not everything I'm doing is meant to affect you, and that my relationships, my private life, is not up for discussion."

Toshiro stood, slamming his chair into the table without fail. The legs screeched against the floor, scuffing the tile.

"That will be enough out of you, Lieutenant (L/N). If you wish to press the matter, then I suggest you get a decent amount of time to think this over."

He marched up to you, not hiding his disapproval as your superior.

Still you stood in place, scouting the other bystanders for their thoughts.

"Oh you must be joking to say such a thing, Shiro! Oh my I'm so sorry, only Momo calls you that right, because she's such a dear girl? Time, time is all you can suggest for the problem you know doesn't exist! I've had time, years in fact to think about everything you haven't done for me! I've clawed my way through meaningless tasks, through the mud-coated forest, and a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for! So please let me show you what I'm capable of, and let me show you the extent of my satisfactory skills!"

His height had always been a bother, certain cadets not treating him as a captain. That had never been a problem for you, respecting him as an officer, and even a friend.

That was no longer the case now, your figure glaring at him with disdain. A blade wasn't necessary for you to tear into him, an odd emptiness placing itself inside him.

"Meaningless tasks…."

His whispered words faded as he registered the meaning behind them.

You took one last look at their faces, their bodies slumped in the chairs, before moving from the meeting room to the nearest exit. Bewilderment at the scene behind your walking figure, wishing for one chance at peace, at new beginnings, and the chance to move on.

As much as you wanted to be disgusted at them, that disgust had burrowed into your own heart, guilt wracking every inch of your body. The world seemed a blur, every color seeming to fade into the background, the sound of life dissipating into nothing but your heartbeat.

Every once in a while you could feel that desire to let go, to let your zanpakuto take the leading role over your sound mind, wondering what that release would feel like. What would make you calm? What could stop this feeling of a time bomb inside your skull? Your hand instinctively wanting to rest on the side of your head, the frustration accumulating like storm clouds.

Your fast walk became a light jog as you found yourself back near the barracks, a new desperation building, your blood boiling beneath your skin until you were sure you had caught a bug.

That unending heat was so unusual, especially when considering the Soul Society weather range and your zanpakuto abilities. Yet you couldn't escape the feeling of burning up, wondering if it was normal, exhaustion digging itself into your muscles just like a parasite.

"(Y/N) what happened? (Y/N)?"

Your mind was going so slowly, so much so that you barely recognized Aizen's room, a fog blocking your sense of perception.

From his perspective, you looked as though you had run a marathon, sweat beading along your neck, hair sticking to the nape in uneven tangles.

He had walked over to your figure, eyes moving all over your features, but they eventually locked onto you. He had always gotten overprotective of you, ulterior motives or not. Any sign of trouble and he would stop at nothing to find a solution.

"There was a meeting - but it wasn't actually a meeting, Toshiro and a bunch of others were talking - and I freaked out - so I left-"

Without hesitation he softly placed a finger over your mouth, stopping any other jumbled words to leak out.

"Tell me what happened, and take it easy."

His very presence always had a calming effect on you, similar to how lavender can make even the most energetic people fall asleep within a short amount of time.

The brunette could see the gears turning in your head, your panic falling away into despair. His heartbeat rose as he felt you collide with his chest, arms squeezing as tight as you could until you could only sense him, his cologne, his aura, and the soft rise and fall of his chest.

As calming as Aizen could be, that didn't neutralize the tears cascading down your cheeks, or the rapid speed of your breath as he continued to hold you close.

"Did someone hurt you?"

He had to mentally remind himself to keep his words covered in a soft tone, almost dropping to a malicious whisper at the very idea of you in trouble.

You didn't pull away from his embrace; your response was only made coherent by the shake of your head. His body relaxed a little at that reassurance, but he was nowhere near calm, at least in his thoughts.

"Say you won't leave me, please. I'm so afraid of what you might do, Sosuke."

His hold tightened, the knot of revenge building in his chest, unrelenting as he could only imagine the payback, the satisfaction. In a moment you were lifted up into his arms, legs secured by one arm, while the other had secured your torso, making sure to keep you as close as possible.

"Such a silly girl, aren't you? Why would I ever do that?"

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, feeling so fragile underneath his stare. The pad of his thumb wiped away any stray teardrops, the softest touch making you putty in his hands.

He lowered himself onto a nearby couch, still cradling your body without any second thoughts. His height had always made you feel safer, specifically in these moments where you could feel him underneath you, enveloping you into a stronghold.

"I'm serious about this, about everything, as silly as you might think…"

The grip around your torso loosened, allowing for you to position yourself however you saw fit. You raised your upper body, staring at the bewitched captain below.

With his hands freed he placed them underneath your jaw, bringing his mouth to the side of your throat, allowing his teeth to ghost over your jugular. His lips made repeated contact, eventually giving open-mouthed kisses, smirking ever so slightly as he heard you sigh deeply, knowing exactly how to push your buttons in all the right places.

"Sosuke - what are you thinking - right now?"

He didn't respond, trailing kisses up your jawline, each excruciatingly irresistible, making your body betray your mind.

"I'm thinking about how to make it clear to you that I wouldn't leave you, especially not here."

Without any more motivation necessary, you took the initiative, lips meeting him in a desperate attempt to curb your memory, to forget about it all.

It was always a sight to watch him come undone, especially after a hard day's work. His disguise was no longer relevant or needed as you combed your fingers through his hair, trying to get as close to him as possible.

To see him hungry, short of breath and eyes only focused on you. You could do or say anything in these moments, but the odds of you getting out without scratch marks down your back and hickeys below the neck of your formal work attire were little to none.

"I thought you were busy today—"

Another sensitive nerve was struck in the middle of your sentence, making you squirm in his lap, trying to stay composed.

You covered your mouth before any more suggestive noises were heard, noticing how he paused his actions at the sound of your silence.

"You know for a lieutenant, you get flustered so easily? Don't worry if you can't keep quiet, it's not like you do this for anyone else."

Another kiss, another muffled moan, another pause, until he had finally pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, careful not to bruise your skin.

As the kisses became deeper you wriggled your hands free, placing them back on his head, and pulling him down to meet your mouth once more.

With every breath and sigh, the satisfaction of seeing you so flustered, his hands reached toward your thighs, hoisting them around his waist then sitting back down.

You had surrendered at last giving in to his touches and praise, no longer resisting any contact, but embracing it. At first you thought you heard a noise, a small thud, ignoring it at first as nothing more than a random noise. But then the same thud occurred, louder and repetitive against his front door.

As much as he wanted to continue this session, it would be incredibly suspicious if he ignored the knocking. He placed you back on the couch before cracking open the door and peeking out to see Momo Hinamori and Hitsugaya, both looking rather glum.

"Did you need something, Captain Hitsugaya? Lieutenant Hinamori?"

Toshiro felt a strange curiosity as he looked at the taller superior, stray hairs ruffled and his skin flushed a light pink. If Toshiro really concentrated he could sense traces of your spiritual pressure.

"Have you seen Lieutenant (L/N)? Captain Kuchiki was expecting her to deliver some reports and says she has not returned to the office. Do you have any idea why that might be? "

His brown eyes narrowed, calculating the best approach.

"I saw her earlier today, did something happen, Captain Hitsugaya? Maybe something upsetting?"

His voice was full of rage, evident to only you as you saw his shoulders tense under his uniform. The hand leaning into the frame had gripped the material, knuckles whitening at the pressure.

"No, I don't think so. Would you say she's seemed upset lately?"

Toshiro continued pushing his limits, taking steps toward the taller man. Aizen stood his ground, body blocking any opening of the doorway.

"Earlier, a half hour ago actually, but she didn't tell me anything. Do you know what could have happened? Was there a specific meeting I missed?"

He emphasized his knowledge of the true events, making it undoubtedly clear that you had stopped by.

Without any warning Toshiro Flash-Stepped by him, able to find a gap.

His confusion didn't last long as he saw you laying back on the sofa, clothes baggy and coming undone as you clutched them to your chest, not expecting him to see you like this. The fabric had slid down your shoulders, revealing bare skin that was glistening in the evening light. From the angle, the golden hues had emphasized your features, making a certain radiance bounce off of you, even as teardrops still rested on your lashes.

His blue eyes softened, but you paid his regret no mind, looking away to conceal your further embarrassment. He was going to speak, but the firm shove on his shoulder towards the exit interrupted him.

Momo, who was still outside, was conflicted, not understanding why her best friend was pushed away so violently by her favorite captain.

Toshiro muttered something about lying and privacy, unnerved by seeing his subordinate in such a state. Not only that, but the image of you with the fifth division captain made his stomach churn.

Once the door was closed you were embarrassed beyond all reason, completely caught off guard.

"Next time give me a warning before you go out, especially when I'm like this."

Now that his blood isn't boiling he can't help but stare at your exposed body, partially covered up by throw pillows and your robe. His smile makes a shiver travel down your spine, knowing full well his intentions, his imagination on the cusp of breaking.

"At least you know he didn't hear you, but that was close."

His mind had completely centered on you, making it his priority to see you come undone in his lap.

"But then again, I think I'd prefer you to scream as loud as you can. Guess I can't let you down."

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanon: The Fusion Hivemind

I've brought up the hivemind a lot in the past, so here's some ideas on how I think it can work:

The closest thing I can compare the way the hivemind functions to is an online server. Typically, only those made from or badly infected by fusion matter can access it, with there being certain restrictions based on who enters. For example, Fuse himself would be the server creator and main admin with certain fusions under him regulating it.

If a normal person enters the hivemind via corruption/infection, they're not typically going to be able to understand it or even remember much from the experience. It would be like entering a live chat feed with no pause and countless people all sending in messages/talking over each other at once. You might pick up one or two things being said, but for the most part, it's all just a jumbled-up mess--and that's not counting the fusion monsters firing off what wound basically come across as spam or keyboard-smashed text. For fusions, understanding it is much simpler as they are essentially able to pause that constant flow of information and/or look back at it for review. They don't automatically know everything going on between all of their kind at once.

This flow of information would essentially be the "main chat room," and would be the sole part to the hivemind that an outsider could access. They'd be in a similar position to fusion monsters. While able to contribute to the "main chat"--if, for humans, only in pained cries from the amount of fusion matter coursing through their bodies. The difference between fusion monsters and outsiders to the hivemind is that, while both can receive orders, true memory transference would only occur with fusion monsters and those over them. The most the hivemind might get from you is quick visions of whatever is occurring during the period of the infection, like if you're close to dying and/or if you're around other fusion fighters.

Only certain species of fusion monsters will have a strong, separate means of communication--like a private or group chat on the server--with each other. Fusions are able to directly reach out to groups of fusion monsters to give orders, but not the other way around. Fusions can also see through the eyes of the monsters under their command via the hivemind, and Fuse can do so through everything in his army.

With the mention of a "private messaging" part of the hivemind, it's actually not-so-private. It's most often used as a means of Fuse and the fusions to connect with each other one step above the chaotic noise that is the rest of the hivemind: If Fusion A wants to talk to Fusion B, it's easier to do so through a little extra telepathic reach than to shout into void hoping they're paying attention. With this, while fusions might not always know or even care what's said between each other, Fuse can access everything.

As mentioned above a little bit, a big weakness of the hivemind is that processing all of the information and dialogue is far from instantaneous. Both Fuse and his Fusions have to mentally "read" through it, which can sometimes leave them distracted and open to attack. For this reason--no different than humans texting each other vs. talking in-person--if they are close to others of their kind, they'll just talk normally.

With this server analogy, it is still necessary to say that there is a degree of mental control Fuse possesses over his army. Now, do fusions have a "log" of private thoughts somewhere in the hivemind? Yes and no... There is absolutely a log, as their memories are recorded into the hivemind so they can be copied over into a new body should a fusion perish. It's much harder for fusions to review these logs with each other than it is for them to access a fusion monster's and what can be reviewed between them would have limited access. That's still not an issue for Fuse though, as everything in the hivemind is connected back to him. He's not normally going to care about the private thoughts of a fusion, however, since they're tools to him rather than people and they have an extreme loyalty to him anyway. He'll mainly just exert more of his will over a fusion if its cloned personality becomes a problem. I once had someone message me asking if this was like White Diamond's possession of gems, and while I think it would be very rare since Fuse would have to put a lot more concentration into it than he'd likely deem necessary, I do see that comparison matching in this situation. Overall, however, Fusions that are under a heavier control are typically regulated to a monster-type role: Aside from a slightly higher intelligence, they become beings of destruction following basic commands, their sense of personality largely stripped from them. Their subconscious isn't locked away and replaced by Fuse's: It's distorted to where they become more like obedient animals.

With the introduction of fusion imaginary friends to the hivemind, they're the only fusions who truly have a mental space completely separate from it--and from Fuse. Thankfully for them, they were also quick enough to subconsciously realize this advantage and keep some things to themselves, if only for the sake of survival. This also means that certain events, like Fusion Eduardo leaving clues for the Fusion Fighters, largely go unnoticed by Fuse's army.

Bringing up Kevin's case again, there are ways the hivemind can essentially be hacked. Doing so without anyone in the hivemind catching on though would be very difficult, and once they notice you, the mental attack in response would be severe. Either they would try to punish and push you out of the hivemind or, more likely, try to control you.