#even more hysterical is that the game makes us play as them against him and not as him

[hydrachea]

Thinking about how this confirmed Dan Heng and Blade put aside their many many many differences that one time so they could beat up a kid nearly to death. Guys...

[desertduality]

HELLO soo I was inspired by @stiffyck and the most recent secret life episode to write some tcd angst set in secret life <33 Enjoy :D

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read there

———----

Scar, despite all odds against him, does hold his own for a little while. Gem is after him, bloodthirsty and intent, for reasons that Scar doesn’t know. She traps his base, she shoots at him, stabs at him — and he survives it all, up until he doesn’t. There are four of them by then, and they hunt him down and pick him off. And he dies. 

These games are fun, is the thing. They get together and they make silly little groups with playful rivalry’s and eventually someone wins. It’s fun. Scar has fun, usually. 

None of them know about the world he came from. That lonely, ravaged, barren world. The zombies had been everywhere, fast and stubborn. Scar had been young and hurt and alone, and had learned to run on broken legs before he learned how to read. 

It’s been a long time ago, now. The memories sneak up on him far less often than they used to, and he’s better. This though, this thing with Gem and the others, it’s hitting him in places that still hurt; places that will always hurt. 

Scar is fresh off his first death, still reeling from being hunted down, and Cleo and Grian are telling him he can’t stay. 

“You’re not one of us,” Grian says, and they’re just playing a game, but Scar is confused. He’d been invited, hadn’t he? But then Cleo had taken it back. 

“Scar!” Bdubs is a distance behind him, sitting atop a horse and calling his name urgently. “Scar, we need to talk to you.”

Scar goes, and hears whispering behind him, something about zombies and spreading. It makes a bit of nerves flare up in his stomach, but he ignores them. He is far enough removed from the past that hearing the word won’t send him into hysterics. He’s even recovered enough that he can handle the sight of a few zombies, even if his heart rate elevates until they’re gone. He’s better, he is. 

Bdubs takes him back to the others, and they explain to him what’s been going on. It’s Gem’s task to spread the Boogeyman curse, one by one, to everyone. He suddenly feels a little bad for trying to burn the book earlier, because this sounds like a good time. Causing some chaos, killing some people, making each other laugh — it's what they’re all here for. It’s why they play the game.

(There’s a small but persistent inkling of unease living behind his rib cage at the fact that they’re comparing themselves to zombies, to an apocalypse, but he ignores it. It’s not important enough to mention it, and he doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.)

They get Etho, and Gem praises him for it, and Scar tries not to compare the fortress the others are defending to the bunkers he used to raid. His brain still makes the connection, as much as he wishes it didn’t. The memories trickle in slowly, making him more and more on edge as the day goes on. It will be over soon, Scar tells himself. Then he can rest, and go back to being better.

Joel has a zombie spawner to farm XP. Scar has used it, has been inside it. He’d been expecting zombies, then. He doesn’t expect it when Joel throws down sixty-four zombie eggs in a row. 

The thin and fraying thread tying him together snaps.

Everyone is screaming and yelling, running, chasing after Joel. There are zombies as far as he can see, in groups and alone, groaning and gurgling into the night. It fills his ears, wraps itself around his mind like a vice, catapults him back to when he was just a kid, fighting the world with his teeth bared and no one at his back. 

Everything goes fuzzy and distant, the noises muffled beneath his heartbeat and heaving breaths echoing endlessly in his ears. He slows to a stop, chest heaving and eyes wide, skin going cold and numb with terror. Nothing makes sense. Everything is wrong. 

There’s something in his hand, and he looks at it, panicked tears prickling at his eyes. He’s holding a sword, and an anguished, confused noise rips itself from his throat. Where’s his gun? Guns are better, guns are safer; guns mean he doesn’t have to get close. 

The moaning of the undead is growing louder, they’re coming for him, and he stumbles forward with gasping breaths, eyes flitting around wildly as he searches for a place to hide. The ground is filled with craters, zombies in every direction, and he blinks desperately to clear his blurry vision, pushing forward with all the desperate agony of a man living on borrowed time. 

He thinks he hears someone call his name, but it can’t be real, it’s just a memory, it’s just his stupid, persistent hope manifesting itself at the worst possible time. He has to get back to his base, his bunker, but nothing looks familiar, no direction looks like the correct way to go—

He runs anyway, passing by a giant stone statue and weaving around holes in the ground and slashing blindly at anything that looks like it’s moving. He spots a tower in the distance, oddly shaped and oddly colored, but a structure nonetheless, and he runs for it. The zombies are here and they never left and he never left and he runs. 

He only makes it halfway. 

There’s a zombie in one of the craters, and Scar doesn’t see it, is too wrapped up in his tunnel vision, and it grabs at his ankle as he walks by. He hits the ground, hard, his knee hitting first before everything else. He hears a sharp crack, and knows it’s broken. 

He twists his head around wildly, tearing his leg out of the zombies cold grip with a yell of pain, dragging himself out of reach just in time for others to bear down on him. His vision becomes a swirling kaleidoscope of hands and teeth, of skin and claws, and he opens his mouth and screams. 

(He won’t know until later, but everyone near spawn hears it. Everyone hears it, and freezes, and turns to look. It sounds like pure terror, like the final cry of a dying man. None of them will ever forget it.)

He swings his sword wildly, slashing and scrambling to get away, but his knee hurts and they’re pushing him down, he can’t get up—

He hears yelling, distantly, but that still can’t be right, no one else is here, no one else can save him—

Scar rolls to the side, and falls into one of the craters, dirt and pebbles sprinkling down on top of him when he hits the ground with a dull thud. He shouts through clenched teeth as the landing jostles his leg, but still pushes himself up and back until his back hits the solid side of the hole. Grass and dirt is still clinging above him, forming somewhat of an overhang. They can’t attack from directly above. Scar grips his sword in violently shaking hands and waits for the hoards to find him. 

He still hears the voices, but he shouldn’t be hearing voices, he’s alone here, he hasn’t heard a human voice not his own since he was six, and he closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds, willing himself back to reality. Something drops to the ground in front of him, and Scars eyes wrench themselves back open, landing on the shadowed figure of a person coming his way. He has both hands on his sword, and he points it at the approaching zombie. 

It speaks. It says his name. 

“Scar,” the figure says, a deep, frantic concern in their voice. “Are you— What happened? Are you okay?”

The cloud that had been blocking the moon slowly drifts away, and Scar gets a good look at the figure — the person — in front of him. He’s human, he’s alive, and Scar knows him, he knows who it is, but he can’t be here, he’s not supposed to be here. This is the world where Scar is young and alone. No one else belongs here. 

The past and the present collide angrily in his head; he doesn’t know what’s real. He doesn’t even know this person's name. The person is crouching a few feet away, empty hands extended imploringly, worry plain in his eyes. Scar’s eyes catch on his shirt, black with gold accents, and can’t help but think that something’s missing. A letter, he thinks, but can’t quite remember which one. 

It doesn’t matter. He’s not really here. 

He must’ve said some of that out loud, because the man’s face drops, something heartbroken pinching at his eyes. Scar feels bad, and doesn’t know why. 

“I’m here, Scar,” says the man, voice trembling. “I’m real. You’re okay.”

The man is a liar. Scar shakes his head, a trembling exhale shaking his tense frame. The sword remains steady. 

“No,” Scar says, voice strained and breaking. “No, you— you can’t be. Not here.”

“Scar—“

“Stop saying my name,” Scar begs. “I don’t know— I don’t know who you are.”

It’s only half true. He recognizes him, knows he’s a friend, but his brain is rebelling against the very thought that he could exist in a place like this. In the place Scar grew up. No. Everyone was either dead or undead, here. Everyone but Scar. This person with sad eyes and gentle hands does not belong. 

“Impulse!” Another voice is calling down at them, and Scar looks up, catching a glimpse of bright orange curls and mismatched eyes. Nothing makes sense. “Is he okay?”

The man — Impulse — looks at him, and then looks up. He can still hear the zombies, everywhere and far too many. 

“Get Grian,” Impulse says, and the person above them freezes for just a moment, and then disappears. 

Grian, Scar thinks. Another name he knows. Another name that doesn’t make sense to be hearing in a world like this. His mind scrambles, his eyes sting, the zombies groan and shriek above him. Nothing makes sense. 

Grian will, some distant and muted part of him says. 

Grian will. 

—————————

Grian is on top of their cobblestone tower — laughing at the sheer amount of zombies and chaos in the distance — when Gem comes tearing up the slope at high speeds, something frantic and determined in her eyes. 

“No zombies allowed!” Grian calls down, grinning, though it dims when she looks up at him. There is something serious and desperate about her gaze. 

“Grian!” She slides to a stop at the base of their castle, face dotted with sweat and panic. “You need to come with me, something—“

“You’re just going to kill me,” Grian says, confused and faltering. “Why would I—“

“It’s Scar,” Gem interrupts, a harsh concern clipping her words. “He’s— Something’s wrong with him, a zombie got him and he screamed.”

Grian tilts his head. “Scar screams all the time.”

“Not like this,” Gem says, sounding genuinely shaken. “Not like this, Grian, please.”

She doesn’t even have her sword out, standing at the base of their fortress with wild eyes and a desperate plea. Something’s wrong with Scar. Something bad enough that everything else has gone out the window. Gem’s not here asking him to play the game. She’s here begging him to pause it. 

“Okay,” Grian says, a new bubble of panic growing in his chest. “I’m coming, let’s go.”

Gem nods at him when he emerges from the tower, and then she takes off running, leaving Grian with nothing to do but follow. It seems to take forever to get there, weaving around hoards of zombies and craters left over from the wither attack. The other server members are mowing through the hoards with swords and axes, and what seems to be extreme prejudice. They all look a bit shaken. The coil of nervous worry in Grian’s rib cage grows. 

Gem stops them at a random crater, and nods. “Down there,” she says, and then throws herself back into the fray, cutting through any undead limbs that reach for her. The surface is a battlefield. 

Grian drops down, and Impulse turns to look at him, grim concern pressing his lips thin. He looks relieved when he sees him, and Grian looks behind him and realizes why. 

Scar is there, hunched against the wall and shaking like a leaf, sword held in trembling hands and fearful eyes flickering between them. Grian’s stomach drops, and he inhales shakily. Scar looks lost, and so very, very afraid. He’s never seen him like this. 

“It’s the zombies,” Impulse says, quietly. “They set him off somehow, I— He barely recognizes me.”

Grian remembers, distantly, Double Life. Scar had fallen into a pit of zombies, and they had both died that day. He hadn’t quite understood why their shared heart had been beating so fast for so long after; he never knew the reason for Scar’s shell-shocked eyes above his trembling smile when they met back up. He still doesn’t know why, but now he knows for sure. Scar is afraid of zombies. 

“Get rid of them,” Grian says, equally hushed, even though everyone has already started. Impulse just nods, one hand on his sword, and climbs out of the crater. Grian turns to Scar. 

“Scar,” Grian starts, voice carefully relaxed. “You’re safe, okay? We’re getting rid of them.”

Scar shakes his head, moonlight catching on the tear tracks on his face, and Grian aches.

“You can’t be here,” Scar says, turning pleading eyes towards him. “You— You can’t be here.”

Grian gets a little closer, and crouches down, doing his best to appear non-threatening. “Why not, Scar?”

“It’s wrong,” Scar says, sounding all of ten years old, terrified and unsteady. “I’m supposed to be alone, you can’t be here.”

“Why are you supposed to be alone?” 

“It’s just me, it’s always just me,” Scar insists, and then he inclines his head upwards, to where the zombies are still groaning. “Me and them.”

Grian swallows, feeling out of his depth and worried. The only reason Scar would have a reaction like this is if it had once been true. Once upon a time, it really had just been Scar and hoards of zombies. And in Scar’s mind, that’s where he was. He’d never left. Grian’s stomach rolled. 

“We’re not there,” Grian says, still unsure where there was. “We’re in Secret Life, Scar. We’re playing a game.”

Scar shakes his head again, violently, and starts trying to stand up. A muffled whine escapes his throat when he puts weight on his knee, but still he stands. Grian wants to grab him and shake him and then wrap him up in several blankets. 

“You’re hurt,” Grian says, a note of pleading in his voice, hands hovering, wanting to reach out. “You shouldn’t be walking, Scar.”

“I’ve walked on worse,” Scar says vacantly, and twists around to look behind him, making a noise of frustration. “My backpack, where’s my— I need—“

“Backpack?” Grian repeats. 

“I need morphine,” Scar says, voice tight with pain and panic. “I need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You can’t be here.”

Morphine. Scar’s plan is to numb the agony of a broken knee and run on it anyway. Scar says it like it’s normal, like there’s no other choice, like this is the only way. Maybe it was, once. Grian wants to scream and cry and pull the universe apart with his hands. Instead, he grabs Scar’s wrist in a gentle hold. 

“I am here,” Grian says, soft but firmly still, and Scar freezes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Grian tugs at his wrist making Scar meet his eyes, trying to ground him. Scar blinks at him, hazy and distant, chest heaving. Grian reaches out slowly, and takes the sword from Scar’s hand. 

“Do you remember,” Grian begins, “asking me to be your friend?”

Grian remembers. Scar, with grey skin and crimson eyes, hiding a sheepish grin behind a bouquet of poppies and lilacs. Something like recognition flickers across Scar’s face, and Grian keeps going. 

“We had a llama called Pizza.”

“I blew you up on accident.”

“The moon was falling and you built a rocket upside down.”

“You were my soulmate, of course it was you—“

“You made fun of our bread bridge.”

“You were actually a pretty good mayor, you know.”

Grian lays their memories out between them, holding Scar’s wrist gently in his hands, and doesn’t stop until Scar looks at him and finally seems to see him. His face crumples, awareness flooding his expression, and Grian lowers them both to the ground when Scar’s knees give out. 

“I’m sorry,” Scar says, voice cracking, and he gives an awkward little laugh that makes Grian’s heart twist sharply. “That doesn’t— That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“It’s okay, Scar, don’t apologize,” Grian says, adjusting his grip to hold Scar’s hand loosely. “Do you feel better?”

“I feel like I ran a marathon,” Scar answers, exhaustion in his tone. “I don’t— Thank you. For bringing me back.”

“Of course.” Grian hesitates. “…Where did you go?”

Scar takes a shaky breath, eyes going tired and sad. Grian’s eyes catch on a scar peeking out beneath his collar. 

“I was stuck in a hardcore world when I was a kid,” Scaf says eventually, resigned. “I was the only player in a zombie apocalypse. I had to… let myself die, to get out. But I spent years there.”

Grian stares, quietly horrified. He imagines Scar, so very young and so very alone, running on broken limbs and killing things that once were people every day, and still finding the willpower to survive for years and years. That Scar had grown up in a world without light and still come out of it with a personality bright enough to blind them all — it was nothing short of miraculous. Brilliant, mischievous, stubborn Scar, with enough skeletons in his closet for all of them and the uncanny ability to make them laugh until they were out of breath. 

“You never said anything,” Grian says, careful to keep any accusation out of his voice. He understands. He still wishes he had known, somehow. 

“It’s not fun to hear about,” Scar says, and stares at his broken knee. “And it’s…not easy to talk about, either.”

“I know,” Grian says, squeezing his hand. “But if you ever want to, I’m here. I don’t want— I don’t want this to happen again.”

The zombie sounds have died down, the others having done their damn best to kill them quickly. It’s quiet but for their breathing, slowly slowing down. 

“I’m a lot better,” Scar says, brow furrowed. “That was just, a lot more than I was expecting.”

“It’s okay,” Grian says. “It’s… You don’t have to be better all the time.”

Scar glances at him, his mouth lifting just a bit, looking a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“And you can talk to us.” Grian smiles back. “We can help you when it’s hard.”

Scar lets out a long, slow breath, the shake in his hands finally down to something manageable. Grian is relieved for all of two seconds, and then something mischievous flickers in Scar’s eyes. Grian sighs, because he knows what’s coming—

“That’s what she said,” Scar says, quick and unapologetic, and Grian smacks his shoulder with his free hand. Scar laughs, and Grian just rolls his eyes and grins. 

Yeah. He’ll be fine.

[inchidentally]

I'm literally looking at myself like you dumb bitch it’s a gd lego animation why are you writing this

but like The Inherent Gentleness of Landoscar

the gentle little voices they use in so many of their challenges compared to the Big Loud Fun Times With Loving Alphas that Lando's challenges with Carlos and Daniel had and with Oscar and the Prema boys !

the fact that Oscar never even properly raises his voice at all around Lando like he would with previous teammates and some of the Alpine videos. even when they're playing a big fun loud game of cricket outside and it merits shouting and yelling, Oscar never raises his voice at Lando. Lando is an absolute tiny terror, bellowing and shouting and whining at Oscar - and Oscar just giggles and ribs him gently in return. 

like, Oscar would fully allow himself to yell and get exasperated (jokingly) and make fun of all the other guys in his life - he’s Australian, it’s what he does! It would be weird if he didn’t!

but in the same way that even non fandom F1 fans picked up on Oscar’s accent softening and sounding more similar to Lando’s when they’re in videos together, Oscar massively softened the genetically and culturally coded sarcasm and ribbing when he noticed it didn’t always land the right way with Lando. and how even tho they have a perfectly healthy natural sense of competition between each other, Oscar never used to be at all shy about being competitive and a little cocky… until Lando, where Oscar now ducks his head and turns pink with embarrassment over the Sprint win being brought up and how Lando was always the one to bring it up and never Oscar. and it even turned into that gentle repetition of Lando’s expressions thing which he even does in a silly Lego video “team work makes the dream work” ??

and the thing is the more Oscar has specifically wanted to accommodate Lando’s preferences and quirks and habits, the gentler and quieter he’s become with him - which goes against every aspect of bromance logic that we as fans love so much ?? normally the best thing about Lando’s quirks and habits and contrariness is when his friends roast him about them or use them strategically to whip him up into hysterical giggles or screeching and possibly nearly break something or hurt himself in unserious ways.

but then there’s the fact that Lando is also a naturally shy person and he has as many quiet moods as he has hyperactive or excitable ones. and while he can have the more excitable ones with all of his friends and we get such great media content from them, it’s really only guys like Oscar and Max F who can also bring out his quieter and gentler moods on camera. 

and it’s literally fascinating to me that as a result that’s actually become more the default when Lando and Oscar are together - even down to never broadcasting when they spend time together outside of F1 commitments apart from mentioning it in passing. their time together is A Gentle Vibe and would feel weird to document bc it's at once so warm and friendly but also not A Big Deal!

and idk the fact that Oscar also doesn’t show overt bromance gestures of affection to Lando on camera or when specifically prompted by the media - but then he shows a consideration and attention to Lando that not even joking we only rly notice him do when it comes to Lily. and that most of Lando's other friends don't tend to show him apart from Max. and Oscar’s even like that w Lily where he doesn’t do the typical PDA or getting overly sentimental about her but he mentions her all the time to show how much a part of his life she is and isn't that more significant !! they’re his go-to for any question about himself that isn’t about racing - what Lando and Lily like and don’t like, how they tease him or give him a hard time, what he finds exasperating in a fond way about them. something about Oscar not rly caring if he’s a dynamic or at all fan popular person outside of racing and then being a mirror to reflect the much more interesting qualities of these two unique people who are in his life more than anyone else something something !!

but mainly it’s how the youngest and most closely competitive pairing on the grid are also the least overtly Manly Aggressive Men and don’t honestly seem at all concerned with trying to be so ! even the way they treated the usual mind games/fighting talk thing by just finding the whole concept amusing !! same with team orders where they just say ‘oh it was fair!’ and they’re both just so effortlessly What Is Gender that it rly is like they are watching The Men* from a distance most of the time and peacefully sharing silent communication with each other and speaking in voices so soft that The Men cannot even hear and like they just exist in this aura that makes us think they’re twins when actually their looks and their personalities aren’t twinning it’s just that they inhabit this wavelength exclusive to themselves and they do frighteningly well at pictionary and they coo these little thoughts at each other and it’s sometimes creepy but endlessly intriguing !!!

and how as fans there’s never any Top/Bottom Dominant/Submissive laws or even popular tendencies we literally all enjoy writing and thinking of them in fanon in every possible way and it always fits !!

just cool to me !

*with special exceptions at times for Lewis and Charles here - sometimes

[ladykakata]

I saw this post whilst looking through my activity (thank you @wrinkly-fucking-qtip) and it made me muse on a point that was brought up in a Youtube comment;

Does Mickey get along better with women than men?

Sounds absurd at first, considering this man uses misogynistic language as freely as a curse word, but he does the same for homophobic slurs so a large percentage of it will be habit and upbringing with the vile Terry Milkovich informing his language.

There was a line in the debate between Ian and Mickey talking about friends, in which Ian makes the point they have relatively no friends that aren't family (the latter is my point, as Mickey had to explicitly discount Lip the elder brother from the friend count to make a point). Ian asks if Mickey would be happy with Ian hanging around with gay men talking about sex, and Mickey immediately counters with 'fuck you, make friends with chicks!'.

So, does Mickey even subtly get along with women better than with men?

We are going to have to discount Svetlana right out the gate, because his relationship with her is heavily tainted by the fact she was part of his sexual assault and blackmailed him with his relationship with Ian against his father. Even then, it's notable he only threatens her instead of brushes her off once she brings up Ian. His stance and demeanour NOTABLY change when she does that, and he suddenly becomes cold and vicious. She isn't scared, sure, but it's clearly his berserk button and she has to be careful about when to press it for maximum leverage.

Mickey is all about bluff and bluster. In the above friends dialogue, he points out friends are just someone else he might have to murder if they turn State's evidence. Whenever he talks to other men, it's the same aggressive tone he uses with ... anyone who isn't Ian, really. With other men, he has to maintain that front of being tough, to not let them discover he has feelings or can be hurt, and certainly not let them see that he's gay. Even when surrounded by other gay men, where he is within his rights to be comfortable or just slightly less hostile, he's still just as defensive. He isn't slow to punch pretty much any man that even remotely annoys him, even targets that weren't going to fight him (the club owner) or in no position to threaten him (Cole, and it's hysterical he clearly holds back his punch and looks disappointed that Cole dropped so sharply with no fight back).

His attitude with women differs. The hyper-masculine front is still somewhat there, but since he's got a different bar to work with, it's not as forced. A deleted scene has him adement you don't hit women, which is an oddly noble stance coming from someone who escaped the bowels of Terry Milkovich's Hellhole but maybe that was his mother's influence. And bearing in mind, he comes from a family where the women can or would kick as his ass (he tells Sandy to attack his brothers when they try to assault her and he points out to Ian that Mandy is no slouch in the fighting department either)

[Side note: I haven't had the courage to watch all of Mandy's DA storyline, but when Mickey walks in on Mandy tending to her shockingly beaten face, he seemed not only shocked but scared. Not just at seeing his loved one hurt, but I think also stunned his tough-as-nails sister had had something like this happen to her]

His scenes with Debbie, probably the most hated Gallagher left apart from Frank, was littered with fraternal jabs that were honestly sweet and hilarious, and she responded back to him like she would any other family member. She was quick to back up Ian's counter that Mickey was family to Lip, and CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH HE TAKES TO FRANNY?

This man declares himself 'her favourite uncle' whilst flipping off her BLOOD Uncle Ian, and Franny herself names a game she plays with him. He does playful jabs at her like he would any other family member ("*Laughs* Kids are idiots -pause- No offence, Franny") but certainly plays into her more rough-and-tumble Gallagher nature instead of the sweet pink princess role Debbie wants for her.

With the other Russian/Eastern European prostitutes, while he still uses casually misogynistic language ("Don't worry! We'll get a dick in you as soon as we can!"), he certainly doesn't threaten them nearly as much as he would if they were male.

TL;DR I think Mickey DOES get along with women slightly better than men, if only because he doesn't need to be so nearly on-guard with them.

[throwaway-yandere]

The Longest Devout Believers (Yandere!SAGAU Various/Reader)

A/n: This is just a small side story/prequel from around 400 years ago. I couldn't add it anywhere else in chapter 1 so here's the prequel!! Lumine best girl.

Happy birthday Ayaka/2nd-anniversary Genshin!!!

Characters present in this chapter: (Main Focus) Abyss!Lumine, Dainsleif, and Venti (Briefly Mentioned) Kaeya, Traveler!Aether, Zhongli

CW: yandere self-aware genshin au, "impostor" reader, violence (won't go so far and say "gore", but there's mentions of blood)

Unreliable Synopsis: Your travel companions are a lot more feral than you suspected.

Hysteric Humanoid:

Side Story I (You are here)

Next Chapter

-------------

"When men encounter enemies in the fight, a robust heart is better than a sharp sword."

-------------

[??? YEARS AGO]

It was a rough day, again.

You tuck your face between your thighs. It can't be helped that their comments had effectively spoiled your mood for the rest of the day.  You're too "soft".  They eagerly threw insults and threats into the breeze since the country of freedom does not limit one's speech. You were positive that if your companions had left you to experience Ludi Harpastum alone, they would not have stopped at just hurling rotting tomatoes.

Lumine took off your azure glasses and linked your fingers in hers.

"(Player Name)..." She whispered, her bright eyes meeting yours. Lumine never once shied away after being caught gazing in your general direction, nor did she once make you feel alienated for having Khaenri'ahn eyes. 

You blushed as she kissed your fingertips.

"There are no fakes, no clones, no frauds– you are The Creator. Rhinedottir stole your consciousness and dragged you into our world. You brought us life."

"But..." You bit your bottom lip. 

"I didn't... My earliest memories were of me downloading some resource data and verifying file integrity. I just played this game before, and that's it. If I were The Creator, my earliest memory would've been of me creating the soil– or making a new life. I... I can't even summon the elements like you d–"

"But you can control gravity, can't you?" She wiped the single tear that escaped your eye. "I could be your elemental progenitor, just use me as much as you wish."

She invested too much blind faith in you.

You're not The Creator. Why does she insist on telling such a sloppy lie?

She's delusional.

Lumine laughed shallowly as she brushed her lips against your cheek. You're used to this by now. She always sounds like she's on the verge of laughing when teasing you. You squeaked until she pulled you close to her body into a tight hug. Hesitantly, you leaned your head on her shoulder.

Her eyes darkened the moment you turned to look the other way.

Lumine will kill every last one of them. The traveler did not tell you, but she will. Her best weapon would be unscathed, but it didn't mean she couldn't employ a duller, more agonizing blade. She'll flay their skin and hang their heads from the festival ropes, ecstatic at the blood that drenches Mondstadt's concrete floors.

She will come back.

You pulled away.

"Besides, (Player Name), that doesn't matter." She grinned from ear to ear. "You're with us now. And we'll have no better blessing than that!"

Lumine yanked you up, removing you from your sulking position.

You frowned. "Aren't you too relaxed about this?"

"Hmm? Not really. On the contrary, you're being too serious about everything." Lumine laughed. "Lighten up. We don't want you getting wrinkles like Dainsleif."

"Like who, exactly?"

"Ah, there you are, Dain." Lumine cheesily wrapped her hands around your waist.

Your face warmed up, and you pried her off, but your attempts were in vain. Dainsleif cleared his throat. He moved away to avoid you getting sandwiched between them, uncomfortable. 

"Aww, don't act shy, (Player Name)!"

Lumine pouted at him before she gave you a cheeky butterfly kiss. His eyebrows furrowed, unable to understand her need for physical touch. Dainsleif covered half of his face, despite already wearing a mask. You could tell he was feeling embarrassed by her actions. 

She secretly shot him a dirty look.

Lumine knows what she's doing.

And Dainsleif won't be provoked so easily.

"(Player Name) here was just talking about you! They said they wanted to meet Andrius."

You gave her a look that says "no, I didn't." and she shot you back with a "yes, you did."

It's not as if it matters. You can't help but be enchanted. Lumine assigns the majority of your destinations; she simply created a scapegoat in case her strategy fails. Besides, your knight doesn't have the guts to blame you for anything. You were virtually pampered under his watchful eye before Lumine joined the party. Only the traveler is capable of questioning and dismantling his overprotectiveness.

Dainsleif sighed as he pinched his nose. In times like these, his ironclad duties take precedence over her chaotic desires, insipid and unpaid they may be.

Despite lacking any attractive aspects, you value how he conveyed his dissatisfaction still. Based on what you recall from “the game”, he will barely smile and appear on guard around the protagonist in the future. The Dainsleif who swore an oath by your side is a lot more loose and expressive.

He acted so differently when you recalled The Creator's future insights. The future Dainsleif you saw was cold, calculating, and most of all bitter. His smile was nearly extinct. That Dainsleif looked overworked and numb.

You worry that something worse than losing Khaenri'ah will happen that would extinguish his emotions...

You snapped out of your train of thought as you heard Dainsleif groan, annoyed.

"We cannot afford to waste time in Mondstadt." He said.

Lumine huffed.

"But I'm sure Andrius wouldn't mind meeting some travelers."

Actually, he would. If The Creator's insights are anything to go by, he hates humans. Even more so a traveling human.

"But the nobles would," Dainsleif muttered.

"What if they wouldn't?"

"They surely would–"

"The Clans have nothing to do with Wolvendom–"

"We're still in enemy territory–"

"Stop speaking over each other." Your hands chopped them both on top of their heads. They stared at you fondly as if you were an annoyed little kid, which worsened your exasperation. 

You exhaled deeply, wearing your azure glasses back. "I get it, I get it. Now, would you both do me a solid and just be quiet for once?"

It should take another three or four centuries before the "game" begins. Your comprehension of this world's timeline is muddled, yet you know of the protagonist's– Aether’s– fate in the future. When their squabbling becomes unbearable, you console yourself by thinking that they'll "split up" in a few hundred years... Admittedly, that timeframe isn't helpful, but at least they're doomed to battle in the future. They just don't realize it yet.

“Of course, My Lord.”

"Y-Yes, Your Grace."

—------

The destination took a detour from Liyue harbor to Wolvendom effectively under your command.

Wolvendom was nothing like you pictured it to be. According to The Creator, this is where they brought Aether to meet Razor, the wolf boy. The former should be sleeping, and the latter would not exist for generations. Nonetheless, Wolvendom appears somehow more lustrous and green at the present moment. The wolves also make little effort to conceal their fur from strangers. They were more confident and comfortable, and these two things were not mutually exclusive.

So, the riftwolves haven't made their way to Mondstadt yet.

'Hmm, it would appear so, ███.'

You flinched, but neither Dainsleif nor Lumine seemed to notice. The breeze blew and murmured something of great importance. You will not dismiss it.

You stopped walking and listened closely.

While the smaller animals frolicked in the woods, the wind swept through and ruffled the trees' leaves. It's not harmonious or loud, but it still talked in one weighty riddle. It called out a name— it called out to you. And it's a message that only you can hear.

They both immediately sensed that their collective footsteps got a tad bit quieter and turned to look at you.

"I finally remembered."

Dainsleif looked down on Lumine, visibly perplexed. She shrugged in return.

"Remembered what, (Player Name)?"

"(Y/n) (L/n)."

They did not bother hiding their confusion. Dainsleif removed his glove and pressed the back of his palm against your forehead. Judging by how he looked “concerned” at your lack of temperature, you were probably fine. You glared at him, offended.

"Who's that?" Lumine asked. 

"Thank you for asking like a normal person and not checking if I have a fever." You sent him a snarky retort, which made Lumine snort.

Dainsleif's nose scrunched. "I'm your vassal. It is my duty to see to it that you remain healthy and unharmed."

Sounds exactly like him. He's the type that might apologize but never changes his mind.

You both ignored him.

The wind blew and spoke that name. 

(Y/n) (L/n). 

"It's my real name."

You gazed at them in sheer reluctance, hoping for them to either encourage you or admonish your claims. There's no evidence for you to back it up. But you know that it had to be your name– no one else's. It came back to you after 100 years.

"I am (Y/n) (L/n). That's... my name. Not (Player Name)." You gulped. "Do... Do you trust me?"

The two went silent.

“(Y/n)...” 

You watched nervously as the two contemplated. You'd like for them to say a word, or hand out a soft argument against your claim– but nothing like that happened.

Dainsleif closed his eyes and tested your name again. 

“(Y/n)... (Y/n). (Y/n). (Y/n).”

He glanced at you before quickly looking away, his ears all red. Dain cleared his throat, readjusting his tight collar. His eyebrows furrowed. He behaved like a pup backed into a corner, looking at you as if he's begging to be released.

“A-Am I saying that right, My Lord?”

… Surprisingly cute.

Your name sounded wonderful when it came out of his lips.

You grabbed his hands.

“Can you say Fuufuu Mujimuji Daruma next?" You asked eagerly. Your eyes practically sparkled while you stared in amazement. 

It was too much for him to bear. Dainsleif leaned back, pressing the back of his palm against his cheek. 

"... What?"

You winced, still smiling. "Ah, right. That joke was too advanced. I'll ask again in the future once you meet that little ninja."

Neither of them seemed to question what you were babbling about. You frequently foreshadow people and events that have yet to materialize.

But Lumine wanted your attention too.

“My turn.” Lumine beamed, pushing Dainsleif aside, which made him glare pettily. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)!”

Your heart melted.

You did not expect them to eagerly call you by your name. Your lips formed a big stupid grin.

They accepted your real name.

You worried over nothing.

“Oh wow. What a marvelous job. Do you want a gold star?” You teased.

Lumine giggled and confidently puffed her chest out. “No thanks, I’m already a gold star.”

You laughed again while Dainsleif rolled his eyes. 

She’s not wrong though; she is a five-star character. Probably a 10/10 person too. If The Creator's future memories (as much of an oxymoron that is) are to be trusted, then the twins descended to Teyvat as luminescent stars too. Whoever catches her eye would be lucky to have her, but you wanted her to know that.

You shrugged half-heartedly. “That’s right. You’re a catch, my fr–” 

You wanted today to end on a positive note, but the blood that gushed out of your arm said otherwise.

"NGH!!!"

No matter the place or century, there is never a night without its dangers. You limped backward.

Your knees buckled immediately as the icicle stabbed through you. Dain gasped and immediately crouched to shield you.

The three of you turned to look at the creature lurking behind the dusty woods.

It was a cryo abyss mage.

It waved its staff and danced proudly. 

"Found you, impostor!"

You gazed at your fresh wound, shocked. Not because of how it felt, but how it looked. Blood seeped out into the open air, and it was mesmerizing.

Your blood always looked mesmerizing. Like pixels.

"(P– (Y/N)!!!"

Dainsleif's guilt-ridden face snapped you out of your trance. His eyes narrowed. 

For him, it’s just an abyss mage. For him, this wound was just unacceptable. 

Perhaps if the enemy were a larger threat, he wouldn't beat himself up badly. Scratch that, yes, yes he still would. He had been a capable knight for centuries, but he couldn't believe he let his lord get injured over a barely-lethal opponent. 

The twilight sword pulled you behind him. His grip on your hand was unusually tight. You wanted to reassure him that you're okay and he did well, that this was the first time in years that you got wounded, but doing that will damage his pride.

Dainsleif never once failed to protect you until now. 

Thus, Lumine took the lead.

She jabbed the mage with the hilt of her sword, effectively removing its mask, before slashing it down in one fell swoop. 

"GAAHHHHH!!!"

It was over, but she didn't stop there. 

Lumine repeatedly stabbed it, and the abyss mage's muted screams weigh heavily on your mind. Her expression was clouded by an emotion you were unaware of. It cried until it couldn't breathe. But Lumine didn't give in. She continued to mutilate the body, almost as if she wanted you to remember the sound of tearing flesh with each stab.

This was the first time you'd heard her innocent giggles amidst a terrifying scene.

Lumine tugged and pulled out the pathetic mage's flesh. In each drag, she recklessly weeds out its bloodstained fur. The blonde traveler giggled softly. She was not grinning wide, but you have to be blind not to see the out-of-place gentle smile on her visage. The traveler did not flinch once whenever her opponent's cries grew louder and strained– but the intensity of her stabs weighed heavier and heavier until you could hear her sword tear through the dirt underneath. You can't believe she finds this amusing.

"S-stop..."

She picked up its head. You closed your eyes, but you know all too well that it wasn't the sound of crushed Jueyun Chilis you heard. It was the abyss mage's skull.

The mage's final screams will be all that you'll dream of tonight. 

Lumine continued slamming its head against the ground, pulverizing it as she saw fit.

Your heart dropped. Remembering how this abyss mage used to be human.

Used to be Khaenriah'n.

"S-Stop!" You shook, mortified. "Please stop! They're already dead!"

You stumbled over your pleas before Dainsleif softly squeeze your hand. You jerked up and opened your eyes. He accidentally sent you a jaded look, which made you realize that this was not Lumine's first time doing something graphic.

Lumine frowned, before thrusting her sword deep into its chest one final time.

You've never seen her sharpen a sword before. Every stab must have been excruciating.

"Oh. Sorry that you had to see that, (Pl– (Y/n)."

You swallowed unevenly, unable to tear your gaze away from the corpse. You could no longer recognize your assailant at the sight of its mangled insides.

Dainsleif guided your chin up before cloaking the corpse with his power.  He didn't want his Lord to view a distressing sight.

You staggered drearily closer to Lumine.

"...You're only sorry that I saw it?"

Lumine nodded. "Of course. Why would I apologize to the enemy?"

She stood in front of you, wearing the smeared blood of her victim on her hands and feet. You flinched as she cupped your face with her cleaner hand. Her gaze softened, remorseful.

Lumine looked at you with eyes that said you're acting hysterical again.

You hated that look. You hated how she stared at you with condescending sympathy.

“Your Grace, we had to send a message. We couldn’t let those foul beasts get any more strange ideas.”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to spill.

"But–"

"Drop it, My Lord," Dainsleif whispered. "Just forget about it. Please, allow us to patch your wound first." 

You couldn't. Not after seeing the eyeless flesh that your "kind" companion stabbed with abandon. Dain’s words were not a threat, but a considerate warning, and that is precisely what made it worse.

That abyss mage used to be one of your people.

They're no longer human, but that doesn't erase the fact they used to be one.

What would their family think? How would they feel if they found out their father or son got torn to shreds by Lumine?

The Abyss Order's future leader?

"It's just that in The Creator's– my future knowledge, Lumine will lead the Ab–." You rambled shakily, loud enough for both of them to hear. "I don't– it's– I– I'm sorry."

Lumine flinched, slowly processing what you said. "... I'll join the abyss?"

You pretended not to hear her.

Dainsleif busied himself with cleaning your wound. His skill in mixing alcoholic drinks translates well with his repertoire of concocting medicine. You didn't react as the alcohol singes pain in your arm.

Your blood was strangely cube-like, but he reassured you that it was normal. You've never seen Lumine or Dain bleed before and you're not selfish enough to hurt them just to sate your curiosity.

After that, Dainsleif knelt, facing the ground ashamed. 

He didn't let go of your hand.

"My Lord– please forgive me. I had been inadequate."

You pretended not to hear him too.

There’s no time to act pathetic. Thanks to Lumine’s little maneuver, you’ll have to spend the night in Wolvendom.

You took a deep, shaky breath. 

“B-Both of you scout the area while I patch myself up. We’ll camp here for tonight.”

Dainsleif looked up, silently hurt and confused.

You hesitantly pulled his hand away. "Lumine, I'm sorry that I keep bothering you, but before you go can you put up a geo construct… just in case?"

"Of course! (Y/n)–" she savored how your name rolls naturally off her tongue. "There is no such thing as too much trouble if you're the one asking."

You noticed how Dainsleif's somber eyes never left you while Lumine effortlessly spiked the earth's crust with her heel.

"I'll be safer here." You motioned to the barrier. "Lumine's talents never failed us."

Dainsleif stiffened at your reckless choice of words.

Lumine never failed you, and he did.

He clenched his fists behind his back.

"...Do you no longer trust my services, my Lord?" Dain asked as emotionlessly as he could muster.

You smiled.

"Be sure to accompany her, Dainsleif."

That reply did nothing to soothe his heavy heart.

—------

Wolvendom is far more desirable than old Mond's bustling streets and the wolves provided better company. For reasons unknown, seelies and animals were more hospitable and kinder than the humans you’ve met when you embarked on this long journey. Just what do these creatures see in you?

You patted the bunny that snuggled up in your sleeves with your uninjured hand. It slept comfortably, its white fur brushing over your thighs. 

The rabbit did not deserve your stern gaze. It's not its fault that it was born with white fur, but the color reminds you of the scene that occurred moments prior.

How easy would it be to tear this rabbit's fur apart too?

You trembled. 

Definitely not easy enough to grab fistfuls of it in one go as Lumine did.

But she did all that for survival, right?

It's selfish for you to impose your moral compass in a dire situation. "One of us has to go", and Lumine was kind enough to ensure that it won't be you.

An empty chuckle escaped your lips.

You lie to yourself that it was a reasonable thing to do. Traveling with the two made you a "full-fledged self-gaslighter", you could let this one slide too, can't you? It's not as if Lumine is some sort of villainess– everything she did was for you. Dainsleif even stopped you from interrupting, and you trust that he's more level-headed than you are. You shouldn't worry your little head about it anymore. 

"I'm just gonna skip the city and ask how are you enjoying Wolvendom so far, Your Grace?"

You jolted and looked to where the voice came from. The rabbit unfortunately ran away.

When you looked up, a well-dressed man graced you with his presence.

Should the winged man that perched on top of that giant tree be none other than Mondstadt's archon, then it's obvious why he wouldn't inquire about your experience with his country. He appeared different from how he would casually dress up. With a white robe draped across his waist and a large hood covering his eyes, you could easily overlook his obsession with alcohol. 

He flew down and took your arm gently.

"Did you know that rabbits are symbols of spring and fertility in Mondstadt? Hehe, it's mating season right now– their honking noises are keeping me up all night." He said. "Oh, but I guess it's creepy for me to talk about this while holding your hand, huh?

You gulped.

"Venti–" You yelped. "I mean!– Lord Barbatos–"

"Ah-ah-ah! No need to change it, Your Grace! In fact, please don't call me Lord. I'm your most loyal acolyte!" Barbartos chortled. "Calling me by my future fake name, huh? Well– I guess those years were more exciting than the present, so I can't blame ya!"

... Acolyte?

In one swift motion, he removed the bandage and the wound began to heal. His methods were more effective than Dainsleif's vulneraries, yet your eyes did not deter its focus on him.

You thought it was the forest calling you earlier, but maybe it was him.

"You… You know what happens in the future?"

Barbatos cheekily grinned. "Oho? Did you forget that I know every song, from past, present, and future? Your Grace– I have Chrono vision too. Spoilers: I'm actually your favorite archon!"

You smiled forcefully.

"I see…" You lacked the guts and energy to tell him that you can't recall anything other than what you'd experienced. There's no way for you to say he's wrong about his last claim. Barbatos was aware of this and took advantage of that fact.

His smile widened.

Gotta have a great head start, right?

Dainsleif had warned you about The Archons. His distaste for their traditions and sheeple minds are laced in his words as easy as breathing. Their beliefs are a destructive scourge for Khaenri'ah, and he urged that if you meet one, you have no choice but to flee.

And yet… Barbatos' eyes seemed to be sincere.

"Are you the one who helped me remember my real name?"

He tilted his head.

"... Can't say I know what you're talking about." He lied plainly.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure?"

His eyes darted elsewhere. "Positive, Your Grace."

That response made you wearier.

Is he a skilled liar, or is he telling the truth? Then again, who else would help remind you of what your real name is other than the wind itself? If it wasn't him, then where did that noise come from?

Does that mean you named yourself?

You tried not to think about it anymore. He's not going to answer that question anyways.

"... Why are you calling me Your Grace?"

Barbatos shrugged sarcastically. "Beeecaaause you're The Creator, duh."

"I'm The Creator's impostor." You deadpanned.

"Nope. You're the real deal." Barbatos shrugged. "And no other creator will descend in this world. Surface and otherwise."

"But I’m not The Creator."

"Hmm?" Barbatos paused, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. 

"C-Clearly I'm a fake, right?" You said, fumbling over your defense, which was rather difficult when your conversation partner is an archon. "I didn't descend here like some divine God, Rhinedottir made me."

Is that what that foolish woman told you? 

Whatever. At least you forgot your contract with Morax because of her.

But this is the price?

Rhinedottir messed up when she stole your eyes– and made you believe you're anything less than perfection. She shouldn't have replaced your pupils with synthetic Khaenri'ahn ones.

Rhinedottir fucked up when she thought she could play God.

Barbatos forced a grin. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't be wearing those stupid azure glasses.

"You're not a fake. You're more real than all of us combined. What you are isn't an imposter, Your Grace. You're an outsider."

You curled up.

"That doesn't sound friendlier than an impostor."

"Hmm… Well, I guess so! But have you never wondered why you bleed in the way you do?"

You paused.

That was one of many unanswered questions you've had since you started traveling with Dainsleif and Lumine, but it's hardly proof that bleeding red-black pixels make you The Creator. Besides, Dainsleif said your blood turning into red-black cubes was just the usual chemical process in Rhinedottir's frameworks… and you're too overwhelmed to follow his line of reasoning.

Barbatos sighed.

"If you don't believe me, then you really should travel around Teyvat. Without those two protective idiots, mind you. Get yourself lost in different cultures, learn different songs and proverbs– maybe then you'll be sure that you know the answer yourself."

You deadpanned. "Sounds like some blatant self-advertisement, God of Freedom."

"Ehe, you know it Your Grace~." Barbatos steadied his wings. 

"But alas, the wind has returned, and so too will chalk spurn. This spirit is off to greet the next primordial being, wouldn't want a product of Khemia to be seething."

That short poem sounded awful, and the bard was made aware of its poor quality when you visibly cringed. But barfing nonsensical flowery jargon was never the purpose of his poems. Later, you realized what he said.

"Wait, are you leaving already?"

Barbatos ruffled your hair.

"We'll meet again soon! Not soon-soon, but we'll get there eventually." Barbatos snickered. "But when we do, promise me that you'll choose me over the other six, okay?"

He winked.

You laughed humorlessly. "Sure, whatever you say."

"Good!" Barbatos giggled. "I swear I'm not like that old blockhead, but I'll consider this a verbal contract!"

The wind "acolyte" left as quick as it came.

In the end, you decided you won't tell Dainsleif about this encounter. 

—---------

"–That's not going to win them over. They don't see us as potential lovers because they trust us too much. If you give them that, they might just start calling you Dadsleif you know~." Lumine snickered.

While you were resting, Lumine and Dainsleif scouted Wolvendom for potential threats. Tons of wolves loitered, but they didn't pose any harm unless approached, and in addition to that, they seem to enjoy Lumine's company. Dainsleif, on the other hand, was a different story. While Lumine spoke with the Wolvendom's inhabitants, the knight stood back and wove the Abyss Mage's "remnants" into something more useful. A scarf.

It's still a work in progress, but Lumine could tell from the neat stitching that Dainsleif desperately wanted you to wear this scarf. He couldn't work with his gloves on, and she saw how swollen his fingers had become. He's been practicing for months, it seems. The old captain rarely wastes time on people with whom he doesn't see a future with, and you're always on his schedule lately.

He cut off the extra thread with his incisor, before wiping his lips.

It's nearly perfect. It's soft and comfortable– it'll surely prove his skills. He can't afford to disappoint yet again. Though, maybe if Lumine didn't senselessly pluck that mage's fur, the scarf would appear more refined.

Learning how to sew helped Dainsleif feign normalcy, in a way.

So much so that he almost forgot that he skinned this fur from his fellow countryman's corpse.

Hah...

Not that it mattered to him.

This person– this abyss mage hurt you.

It should be glad Dain found a purpose in their miserable life.

Dainsleif sat down, not because he was tired, but to have a better conversation. He appears composed, passionate even if you have a good eye for body language. But his starry eyes tell a different story.

There's hardly any sanity in his eyes whenever he thinks about you. No sane man would offer woven Khaenri'ahn hair as a scarf.

Dainsleif is aware of that. He knows that what he's doing is wrong– that he's risking your trust in his mental state once he gives you this scarf.

But if Lumine already crossed that border earlier, why shouldn't he as well?

... Dainsleif couldn't decide.

He believes he's saner than that, and yet...

There's no way you wouldn't appreciate this scarf, right?

"That's probably true, but I'm making this because Lord (Y/n) looked… cold." He didn't like how your hands always felt like ice. "Besides, we shouldn't be romantically attracted to My Lord in the first place."

Dainsleif looked rather upset as he muttered the last part.

He's fine with keeping his feelings to himself. If he couldn't have you, he made peace with being alone.

"Hmm? So you don't like (Y/n)?"

She already knows the answer to that. The two travelers were painfully aware of how Dainsleif had been struggling with how to deal with his "unnecessary" emotions. 

Both of them knew they are equally obsessed with you.

Dainsleif sucked air between his teeth.

"... None of that matters."

"Heh. So you just want to play as the martyr? Smart." Lumine smiled, feigning innocence. "Careful, Dain. I might just steal your precious Lord from your hands."

His azure eyes darkened. 

"I'll rip you to pieces." He declared in a husky whisper.

Dainsleif's eyes widened and he covered his mouth, suddenly realizing what he just said.

"Forgive me, Lumine– I did not mean it. It's a joke."

His claims were difficult to believe, considering how he's not the first person you'd think about when concerning jokes. Lumine's expression was unchanging, which meant reading her thoughts was out of the question. She paused long before she giggled suspiciously loud.

"Of course. The Creator's best knight wouldn't say something so selfish, after all."

He scoffed and went back to stitching.

They never settled that argument. Both travelers refused to let up on whether or not you're the real Creator. Lumine pressed that you're the real deal whereas Dainsleif turned deaf to her rebuttals. The air thickens whenever Lumine pushes Dain's buttons– and it's worse when it has something to do with you. Deep down, both of them knew that if this question was answered, you will be forced to choose a side.

And there's only one other person besides yourself who wished you were a normal human. It's Dainsleif.

He refused to accept that his life is nothing more than a video game. That's why he will never call you "Your Grace".

Selfish and heretical Dainsleif.

Lumine eyed him closely. Both you and Lumine could tell every emotion on his face after the first 100 years, whether he was sad, happy, or something more hidden and restricted. 

But she's different. She tends to be distant despite her extroverted friendliness. Lumine is skilled in getting along with others, but would withdraw the moment they've grown too attached and dependent. Perhaps that exact trait is what will turn her into the Abyss Princess. 

And the reason Dainsleif spent the next hundred years learning to be stoic.

"Dain."

He looked up with pursed lips.

"Should we become enemies one day…" Lumine cast her gaze at Wolvendom's colosseum as if awaiting Andrius's appearance instead of stalling for words.

It's a well-known secret that you're a "soft" person– your mental state often threads between a thin rope of either hysteric or unresponsive. The deadline to your friendship may be abundant but it doesn't change that it's numbered. Should Lumine leave your side one day, she only wishes what's best for you...

She laughed weakly.

"Would you still look after (Y/n) for me?"

He already failed you earlier. He doesn’t have the heart to make empty promises, but a little hope won’t do any harm.

Dainsleif smiled bitterly, holding your new scarf against his chest.

The scarf he stitched felt lighter.

As if the scarf never once carried an unnamed Khaenri'ahn's soul.

"Only if they allow it."

Lumine smiled.

But Dainsleif is a liar.

He won't do it for her— he'll do it for himself.

-------------

[??? YEARS LATER]

"Your Grace, can't you humor me just for today— where'd you get that scarf?"

"Hmm? Ah, this? Dai... Someone made it for me."

"It doesn't fit your attire."

You chuckled.

"Love, the point of my getup is that nothing should fit."

"Then what a waste of a perfectly good scarf! Shame, I bet I can pull it off better than you."

"I know. And I know what mind games you're trying to pull. You kept staring at it the moment we first met— that's why I got you this."

"... Your Grace, is that—"

"Your very own handmade scarf sewn by yours truly? Yes, my friend. Happy 21st birthday, Alberich."

-----------------

Taglist: @creation-magician, @mitsukashi, @pioreads, @ah-johnny

[lokisasylum]

This is your wake up call to delete all those BTS games & rate them 1 star.

I'm an avid gamer, maybe not like I used to before the pandemic, but I do love video games and when they first brought up SuperStarBTS I was HOOKED and could not put it down. I would play it everywhere; at work, at home, waiting for food at a restaurant, at the cafe, before bed---ect.

When the BT21 games started I also got into them but after awhile deleted it (it was that or left my phone blow up 8D )

But as the games started changing and we transitioned to BTS World & BTS Universe Story where you could either play the BU storyline or create or bring your own fanfics to life... that's when I got tired of them and just didn't bother.

And then we began seeing the sketchy things they would slip into these games, thinking that we wouldn't notice:

The first time we raised a RED FLAG 🚩🚨 to this we were called childish, overreacting, hysterical, "stupid solos", victimizers, and all that ignorant bullshit the fandom has been brainwashed into saying & attacking anyone who goes against these narratives and microaggressions towards Jimin. (Meanwhile the fandom moved quickly to trend dumb #s because they didn't like that the gender of the player wasn't neutral LOL!!!)

And now we got this issue with In The Seom (and its not the first time by the way). Putting up MORE narratives to make Jimin seem like he's useless and weak without the group. Like he doesn't feel good enough as an artist, that he's "better off leaving the group". And then you got the company stans trying to AGAIN gaslight everyone into being okay with this because "Remember? They went through this period before debut"

I'm glad you remember that, Karen, but what you forget is that BTS In The Seom has NOTHING to do with with their lives pre or post debut. Its a different FANTASY storyline, because that's what BTS World was for. So what is the need to continuously trying to capitalized on past trauma while constantly shoving these narratives that are no longer relevant on to new players or fans?

Why don't they ever mention THE TRUTH? That Jimin never received vocal lessons unlike the other 3 members of VL by the company so he had to observe and learn BY HIMSELF? That he joined last and received the bare minimum of time to prepare before debuting with the group? Or that they MADE him expose his body despite being a minor while the others got "saved" from baring this responsibility to constantly work out, diet to maintain a certain image (also imposed by the company, since all of them were pushed into roles in the beginning).

You wanna know why? Because its better to make the member look like a failure than to admit the company is simply SHIT and all they cared about from the start is finding ways to make money off of them. And that includes their insecurities &/or past traumatic experiences going through the phases of being an idol in a highly judgemental society.

Because you expect people to believe that Jimin is still this NOW?

And not THIS ↓?

This wasn't even his concert and he still ATE ↓

Mr. DOUBLE GLOBAL BRAND AMBASSADOR FOR DIOR AND TIFFANY & Co.

[sleepy--anon]

Sapnap’s Revenge Tickle Game

This is something I came up with inspired by @wishitweresummer 's Sap's tickle games

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Dream happened to be lucky today, he was at Punz's, helping him with some technical difficulties he had. When Sapnap was in a ler mood to this degree, nobody is safe and even so much as making eye contact is dangerous. However, since Dream was gone, George was gonna be his victim, and he had a thirst for revenge. He grabbed a tissue box and made long strides to George's room.

"We're playing a game~" He said as soon as he walked in the room. George had been lucky so far, never falling victim to ler moods like that yet, but he recognized the tone from when Dream fell victim to it on call with him. Dream had warned him after he moved in that running or fighting it will only make it worse for yourself, so all he did was back himself up on the bed a bit, squeaking out a noise of acknowledgment.

"Hold this above your head with both hands~ If you let go or your hands come down, you loose~ Understood~?" George nodded slowly, he knew this was gonna be hard but he feared the consequences of refusing more. He carefully took the tissue box out of Sapnap’s hands, adjusting it in his own, watching Sapnap’s fingers twitch.

"Up, come on~" He urged, climbing on the bed infront of George.

"How long until I win...?"

"If you can make it until I'm satisfied, I'll pay you $500~" While that would normally get George competitive, the time limit being until he was satisfied sent a chill down his spine. Sapnap quirked an impatient eyebrow at George, causing him to reluctantly raise the tissue box over his head.

"Ok~ go~!" Sapnap’s face split into a wide, evil grin as he jumped into action, drilling his thumbs into George’s armpits. Causing him to jump, shriek, somewhat curl in on himself and burst into hysterical laughter. Yet still keeping his arms up.

"THIHIHIS IS UNFAHAHAHAIR!"

"Oh~? And your games with me are~? Wanna explain how fair tic-tac-toe was~?" George flushed dark red, the longer he stayed the worse the sensation got. And worse, because he was keeping his own hands up, he felt more vulnerable and in turn, more sensitive. When Sapnap walked his fingers down his ribs, one hand dropped to protect them.

"Ah ah ah~ both hands on the tissue box George~ Remember~?" George wanted to growl but he swallowed his pride and forced his hand back up onto the tissue box which was now sort of resting on top of his head. Sapnap resumed his journey, pressing circles into every rib, chuckling evilly at how George twisted and thrashed at the sensation. When Sapnap pressed into the bottom ribs George’s hands shot to Sapnap’s wrists. Letting the tissue box fall between their laps as he held his wrists out from him.

"Ohohohokay! Alrihihihight, yohohou wihihihin! Yohohou wihihihihin, I lohohohose." George heaved, trying to catch his breath as Sapnap tsked at him.

"You're right, you did loose George~ now you have to endure your punishment~" George’s blood went cold, looking at Sapnap with wide, terrified eyes.

"P-p-punishment?" His hands shook from where they were holding Sapnap’s wrists. He never mentioned a punishment when they started. Sapnap surged forward to press a kiss to George's nose before pulling him so that his back was against his chest.

"Yes George, punishment~ I really don't know how you thought I would be any nicer to you than you've been to me~" Sapnap pulled George’s wrists behind his own neck, tying them together with a belt. Pressing a kiss to his jaw before leaning backwards with his legs looped around his hips, stretching him out. George whimpered at the feeling, suddenly feeling a sense of dread when he noticed where Sapnap’s hands were hovering.

"NO! COME ON SAP THIS IS CRUEL!" Sapnap scoffed at him, dropping his clawed hand onto his lower ribs cage and his knuckles on the other side. Using two different unbearable techniques was driving George to insanity, especially with how trapped he was, he could only kick.

"STOHOHOP IHIHIHIHIT SAHAHAHAPNAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEASE!" George was starting to see stars. He got a few seconds of relief when Sapnap reached over, grabbed one arm and pulled it to stretch the one side more, to make his ribs poke out. Sapnap then honed in on that one rib that made him loose the challenge. Hyper focusing on that one, ignoring George’s intense thrashing, screaming, begging.

"SAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! I CAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! STOHOHOHOP I'M GOHOHOHONNA WEHEHEHEE MYSELF PLEHEHEHEASE!" Sapnap finally took pity on George, feeling like he took him to the same limit. He released him and rubbed his ribs and chest.

"Sometimes you boys need a reality check on what you two have been dishing out, because it seems like you two are bitting off more than you can chew."

[amooo1023]

Originally I made this in october 3rd but it ended up taking longer time because of inconveniences. I barely have any time for activities because of college. This will probably be the only thing I do for the 2022 billtober, sorry. But hey it's still a fic, you can use it as a prompt if any of you viewers want! Anyways enjoy this very short fic.

Game of chess (billtober 2022) READER-INSERT

"NO!" "YES!" The victorious triangle cheers. Bill Cipher, a dream demon of many, said to have destroyed countless of universes, most would fear for their lives of even thinking about him. Yet here you were playing chess with him. And you were NOT giving up. "How do you always keep winning? IT'S UNFAIR!" You yell, slamming your head into the chessboard. Which phased right through you. "Kid, I've been around for YEARS! I've played chess before your grandma was even BORN!" He did have a point, but that didn't make it any more fair.  Were you ever going to beat him? "Yeah that's right, kid. YOU'LL NEVER BEAT ME! NOT EVEN IN YOUR AFTERLIFE!" "Shut up, Bill. Save it for later, I'm going to beat you and you're going to whine. You will face my wrath in this game of mind chess."

Bill Cipher laughs, close to being hysterical. You only glared at him even more. "OH, AND HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT KID? I CAN READ YOUR MIND, THIS GAME IS PRACTICALLY RIGGED AGAINST YOU." He mocked, all the chess pieces already rearranging. You shot him a smug grin, hiding all the sore-loser energy you felt. "I am going to make it impossible for you to distinguish what move I'll make, in my mind." Bill shot you a smug looking expression, as well as he could.

"Good luck with that, kid." You laughed. "I won't need luck!" You both continued to play, each chess piece screaming in agony whenever you moved them. Bill getting more and more frustrated at each turn you managed to land. Eventually you had enough, and you took his pawns away from him. You move your bishop to his last pawn, taking away the pawn. The pawn leaves off a child's scream before it leaves the board, taking over the board completely. The only thing left was his king. Bill stares wide eyed at you in shock and frustration.

"HEY!" You grin deviously. "Told you I'd win." You move your queen down towards the king. "Check-" You finally place the queen and let go of the piece, finishing your turn. "-mate."

Hope you enjoyed! This can be seen as platonic or romantic, I don't really care what you choose.

[mushiewrites]

hellooo

can you do lee sapnap + c, d, e, g, h, j, l, and q :) ik there's a ton but also he is my angel so,,, he's worth it <3 also I already warned you there would be a lot so it's fine lmao

- cal / awkwardtickleetoo

anything for u 🥰

from this post!

(i also answered for the ler questions for the questions that asked for lee + ler bc i’m insane and need to gosh about every single thing involving my baby puppy squishy scrunchy nose boi ❤️‍🔥)

C: Chase | What are their chances in a chase, both as a lee and ler?

okay as both lee AND ler, sapnap could outrun anyone. in terms of being the lee, he is a tiny race car like lightning mcqueen who just like….ka-chows himself away before the ler even realizes what happened. when he’s ler, he loves a good game of cat and mouse - he loves making the lee feel like his prey, and he does everything in his power to make them feel like he’s the predator. he takes his time because he loves to play with his food (: the lee may think they’re in the clear because sapnap gives them a chance to run, but he always catches them in the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 😵‍💫

D: Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?

hmmm.. you know me, i have a few spots that i think are absolute torture for our lil baby boy here. i will scream it from the rooftops - ANKLES. ankles ankles ankles!!!!! i am insane i don’t care!!!! he has such tiny sensitive ankles and he can’t handle anything there my poor lil baby puppy ): i also think his feet in general, under his arms and his collarbones/chest area are death spots as well (:

E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?

sapnap is a provoker in his own lil way, from both ends. when sap wants to tk, he makes sure the lee doesn’t fully know if he’s intentionally being ler or not. i’ll use dream as an example - dream and him would be hanging out, and sapnap would make little remarks that could be insinuated as teases. he’d brush up against dreams side “accidentally” while going passed him to the living room, saying something like “oh, jumpy today huh?” even though sapnap absolutely tkled dream on purpose. he’d continue to accidentally tk and comment on it until he either can’t contain himself anymore and wrecks the lee, or the lee caves and asks sap to tk them (that’s his favorite especially with george bc he’s usually too prideful to ask).

i think it kind of depends on how he expresses when he’s lee. i think with someone like karl he’s more likely to melt and admit that he wants tks, whether he says it out loud in some form or agrees when karl accuses him of wanting them (cal and i go on about lee!sap/ler!karl for days at a time tbh). same thing with dream - he’s more likely to be soft for dream and more likely to not fight it as much with him. but for george or sometimes dream, punz, even sometimes karl depending on his mood, he’s an absolute menace and a brat. he does everything he can to provoke - he curses, he annoys them, he takes their stuff, he tks them until they retaliate - that kind of lee behavior 🥰

G: Gentle | How do they react to gentle tickles?

oh my baby sap, my baby honey ): sap LOVES gentle tks. i think they’re his favorite. he loves them so so much!!!!! they make him feel so safe and secure and warm and nice and LOVED!!! he loves them most with karl, because karl manages to make him not feel embarrassed or stupid for his laugh or his whines or anything he normally is self conscious about. if he gets tks on his sides or his tummy or ribs, he does little kickies and he throws his head back with his eyes closed and tries to stay as still as possible bc he just loves the feeling sm. there are some spots (like his ankles and feet and under his arms, and also hips!!!!!) where gentle tks still make him cackle and laugh hysterically. but he still adores them ):

H: Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?

absolutely he does. when he’s lee, he hides. he hides behind anything he can to “escape” the ler. he runs! because again, he’s a lil speed racer and can zoom his way out of any lers loose grip (he always winds up somehow getting cornered! funny how that happens!). he also curses a ton if he’s caught without his own self-sabotage methods. when he’s a ler, again i love the idea of him treating the lee like prey. just being super playful, growling and chasing the lee around and just teasing the shit out of them before pouncing and absolutely wrecking their shit.

J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?

the trust and intimacy that comes with it! sapnap is a lil tough boy, HOWEVER, he loves that he can do something so vulnerable with someone he truly loves and cares about in a way that is just so warm and happy and carefree ):

(also he loves the teases 😎)

L: Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

SCRUNCHY NOSE GIGGLY BABY ):! this clip here !!!! just giggly and trying to talk through his laughter but he CANT bc he’s laughing too hard!!! he also would get super squeaky and quiet and curse through his laugh too depending on the spot and the technique being used 🫠

Q: Question | Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?

oh my poor little honey bear baby ): he absolutely Cannot handle it. there are some days where he tries to be confident about it, where he puffs out his chest and either replies truthfully or denies it if he’s feeling playful. but most times, his eyes get wide and his face and ears go bright red within seconds. he’s like a baby deer caught in headlights!!!! and when that happens the ler knows they have him right where they want him. and one of his favorite things ever is for someone to make him admit it (: <3

[mamamittens]

Hello hello! I've had other plans come up but Kirin's here to take my place so The Good Doctor (Law) doesn't go lonely for this date ;3; They'll have chocolate cream, lemon drops, gummy bears, with a shot of Hot Damn for Kirin, and a Black Jack for Law - cheers!

(I really hope I've filled this right (/﹏＼)

Sorry for the wait! I wasn’t sure what ‘equipment’ you wanted Kirin to be working with, so I just went with what seemed to fit in with the prompt. And it came out more… uh, sassy than expected? Hope you don’t mind…

As always, let me know if anything needs to be adjusted!

Warnings: Praise kink, restraints, mild subby behavior, confession, unsafe sex, and anal sex.

Word Count: 2,349

The Valentine’s party was—as a whole—entirely too expensive for an excuse to eat chocolate themed treats. But! It was way more expensive as a single guest. Which is why, quite naturally, Kirin invited Law to go with him. For… economical reasons. Certainly not because the visual of his dour, goth friend surrounded by fuzzy pink hearts and sickly sweet cherubs was hysterical.

He spent a lot of time making mocking cries of agony and woe while drowning various fruits and marshmallows in the chocolate fountain. But it earned a few chuckles from Law when he looked ready to storm the exits to escape the repetitious love songs played on loop for the past hour. There was the intention of proper food afterwards but Kirin had known damn well that he wouldn’t be eating anything not covered in chocolate for the remainder of the night. And judging by the glares Law was starting to give him, so did he. At least they’d dressed up a bit.

It was nice seeing Law in something other than his favorite yellow hoodie and spotted hat. Though, arguably his golden yellow dress shirt buttoned up and tucked into dark wash jeans was just a nicer version of that outfit. Minus the hat. He made it look good though, so Kirin could hardly argue. As a joke, Kirin himself had thrown on a white sweater with a generous ‘boob window’ with skinny jeans and white boots. Something a little risqué for the prudish busy-bodies to stare at since they didn’t have anything better to do.

Kirin considered it a public service of sorts, actually. Law obliged this act of kindness by leaning against Kirin anytime he noticed prolonged staring with his best ‘insufferable bastard and he knows it’ smirk. Kirin liked that smirk. Law only used it when he was being a shithead and it never failed to provide him with a show.

Law wrapped his arm around Kirin’s waist, chuckling as he licked up the icing from a cupcake. Kirin couldn’t even see who Law was taunting, but clearly he was enjoying himself.

“You were right…” Law murmured with a pleased grin. “Teasing the desperate singles and unhappy couples is fun.”

Kirin chortled, throwing his arm over Law’s shoulder.

“Of course I was right! And there’s even free food!” Kirin declared with a broad gesture to the table filled with treats he’d be glared at for bringing Law any other time. He avoided anything bread-based of course, but the rest was fair game.

“I think we’re about to get kicked out though.”

“Huh? Why?” Kirin looked around for some hint of danger.

“Cause your sweater has been pulled down under your tits for fifteen minutes and you haven’t noticed. You can’t just flash a whole room and not expect some consequences, Kirin.” Law drawled with a chuckle. Kirin grimaced, looking down to see that his sweater had pulled down a bit too far. Chastised, he tugged it back in place.

“Eheh, whoops… maybe we should go before security kicks us out.” Kirin advised, gently steering Law through the party as casually as possible.

“Oh? Already? Sure you don’t want to give them a full moon too? Complete the set?” Law teased.

“You are a menace!” Kirin hissed as he pushed them through the exit door just as a security officer rounded the corner.

“Just livening up the night, babe~!” Law cackled as they dashed for his yellow car. Kirin scrambled into the passenger seat, his ears red as he huffed.

“Menace.” He muttered, buckling up before Law started speeding off onto the main road.

“So… what now?” Law asked with a sly smirk.

“Shit, I don’t know. That was kind of my only plan for the night.”

“Shame you had to ruin it with your tits, huh?” Kirin glared at Law.

“You’re just jealous!” Kirin huffed, picking a sprinkle from the front of his sweater. He didn’t need to look to see that Law was smirking at him.

“Jealous of what, exactly? Cause we both know I’d have rocked that sweater just as well as you do.” Law cackled. Kirin’s ears burned again but he just rolled his eyes. “You know, I was surprised when you came to me with your plan to pretend to be dating at a Valentine’s event.”

“What? You having second thoughts about the treats? Cause that part worked, you know.” Kirin informed him primly as Law navigated down familiar streets.

“No… I guess I just kind of thought you were finally asking me out for real.” Law said, rolling down the window to drape his elbow out the side. Cool, February air rolling into the car as Law cruised down the street, wrist curled over the steering wheel casually.

“Huh?” Kirin asked dumbly, staring at Law. Streetlights passed by slowly, casting moving shadows across Law’s features as he glanced at Kirin. Eyes catching the light before returning to the rode. “…Did you want me to?”

Law’s lips twitched into a strained smile.

“Yeah… I kind of did. I know we’re just friends and all but… I actually kind of did want you to.” Law said softly, his voice carrying over the stiff breeze that filled the car’s interior.

Kirin floundered for a solid minute as Law pulled into his driveway. He started to exit the car when Kirin finally spoke up.

“I did.”

Law paused, door ajar as he looked back at Kirin with a blank expression.

“I did… Try to ask you out. Several times. They kind of just turned into ‘friend’ outings though. You never seemed… Open? About it?” Kirin explained with a grimace. “So I just kind of… chickened out. Last week when we had game night I almost tried to kiss you… then you hit me with a blue shell and I had more pressing concerns.” Kirin huffed as Law chuckled.

“I thought that’s what you were trying to do.” Law admitted. “You’re just so cute when you’re riled up. I guess I should apologize for teasing you like that. Just so we’re clear? I’m very interested in you.”

Kirin felt his heart pound.

“So… If I tried this… you wouldn’t mind?” Kirin asked, leaning over in his seat until he was right in Law’s face. His lips so close Kirin felt them buzz with anticipation.

Rather than responding, Law swayed forward and their lips connected. Sliding together in soft, rolling motions. The taste of bitter chocolate heady on Kirin’s tongue as the kiss deepened quickly. Their quiet groans echoed in the small space until they were panting, parting reluctantly for air.

“I’d mind taking this inside even less.” Law informed him quietly. Kirin grinned, eagerly hopping out of the car as Law raced him to the front door.

They were giddy and laughing, faces red like they were teens sneaking booze out of the house. Their hands never too far from each other as they tumbled into the house. Eager to finally act on the tension that had been straining their relationship for months now. Lips and tongue clashing as Law led Kirin to his room blindly, hands tugging at his sweater so he could fondle Kirin’s hot skin.

Shoes clattered against the kitchen tile.

Shirts discarded in the hallway.

Pants shoved off at the foot of the bed as Kirin pushed Law onto the mattress. Running his hands along Law’s tattoos as Law tugged down Kirin’s boxers.

Kirin kissed Law again, pressing him down as he pulled Law’s boxers away as well. Both articles of clothing smacked against the wall behind them, but they didn’t care.

“Got anything to help this along?” Kirin asked. Law gasped for air, arching his spine as Kirin stroked Law’s cock teasingly. The hot length throbbing in his grasp as pre leaked out.

“S-Shit, Kirin! Bedside table!” Kirin kissed Law’s exposed neck before investigating.

Inside he found lube, and more interestingly, a silk rope.

“Oh?” Kirin asked, lifting up the yellow fabric. Law blushed, reflexively lifting his hands. Not one to ignore a clear sign, Kirin was quick to grasp Law’s wrists, tying carefully around them in knots. The fabric threaded around the metal headboard. “I think I can work with this.” Kirin admitted, pleased at how hard Law was blushing already.

Kirin placed his hand on Law’s chest, feeling how hard his heart was racing against his palm, and pulled out the lube.

“K-Kirin! S-Shit, Kiri-ya—that shouldn’t look as hot as it does.” Law complained, throwing his head back.

“Yeah?” Kirin asked, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers as he settled between Law’s legs. He smeared the lube over Law’s cock and down under his balls. Rubbing against his ass with barely any pressure. “Are you asking me to stop?” Kirin teased, Law instantly yanking against his bonds.

“Hell no! Ffffuuck! O-Oooohhh ngh~! Kiri! Ah!” Law whined, squirming as Kirin breached Law’s tight entrance with a steady pressure. Teasingly blowing cold air on Law’s wet cock as he started stretching him out. “S-So good! Hnn~! Fuck Kiri please, k-kiss me! T-Touch me! T-Too hot—N-Not enough!” Kirin hummed, kissing Law’s shaking belly as he started panting heavily, cock smearing against Kirin’s chest as he worked.

When Kirin was sure it wouldn’t hurt Law, he slipped in another finger. Pouring lube down Law’s balls to fuck it into him slowly as it dripped onto his hand.

“What would you be doing if I hadn’t found the rope, Law?” Kirin chuckled. “Try to distract me from this cute, tight ass? You need to relax or I’ll have to do this aaaaallllll night~!” Kirin taunted.

“I-I’d kiss you!” Law stuttered. “Your tits would fit so well in my h-h-haaaaands~!” Kirin slipped in another finger gleefully.

“Keep talking. Flattery will get you everything tonight.” Kirin advised him as Law kept tugging fruitlessly on his binds, legs twitching around Kirin’s folded legs. Setting aside the lube, Kirin started stroking Law’s cock with his free hand, making sure to tease the head with his thumb as he continued to stretch out Law.

“I’ve wanted to grab your ass for weeks since you started trying to flirt with me. It’s been so hard not giving in—Aah~ I-I want it so bad, w-why can’t I be on top~?” Law whined, trying to hook his legs around Kirin’s waist to pull him in close.

“Because you’ve been an ass!” Kirin informed him primly, deciding that he’d spent long enough preparing Law, pouring a little more lube to coat his own cock. “So, I guess you’ll just have to take what you can get~!” Kirin lifted up Law’s hips and slowly pressed his cock into Law’s body. Groaning as the tight, wet heat gripped him hard.

Every inch was a slow, difficult slide as Law refused to relax, gripping onto Kirin like his life depended on it. A slow, harsh whine seeping from his lips as Kirin finally settled into place. As deep as he could go. Panting, Kirin grinned down at Law, reaching up to grasp the headboard for leverage.

Law gazed up at him with hazy eyes, drooling and shuddering as he tugged on the silk rope. While Kirin was distracted, Law leaned up and started nipping at his exposed chest and neck. Rolling his hips back onto the mattress and fucking himself on Kirin’s cock. A low hiss escaped his clenched jaw as hot pleasure shot across his body.

Finally putting them both out of their misery, Kirin started pulling free from Law’s ass.

The response was immediate. Law locking his legs around Kirin’s lower back with a muffled whine into against his chest.

“No, no give it back—I need your cock Kiri-ya! S-So thick I-I ca-a-aaaahn~!” Kirin shoved his body forward, slamming back into place and cutting Law off.

“You’re so fucking impatient!” Kirin hissed, setting a frantic pace. “I’m trying to give it to you.”

“I-I know! S-Sorry I-I just c-can’t think with you inside me-eee~! Y-You look so good like this, it’s so unfair. So pretty when you’re fucking me—" Law praised him, driving Kirin to move faster, his knuckles white as he gripped the cold metal for dear life. Kirin adjusted his stance, spreading out his thighs and lifting up Law’s hips by proxy—instantly driving Law wild as his cock hit a nerve. “FUCK! Oh, Kirin shit, just like that! S-So good! So good to me~!”

Burning electricity began to built up in Kirin’s chest as Law’s ass throttled his cock. Every wet smack into his ass driving Kirin further towards his orgasm as Law desperately kept trying to take back control by nipping at his chest and neck. Pressing open kisses and panting hickeys at his throat until Kirin lowered his head down for a proper kiss.

Wet and distracted, Law was too busy moaning to properly respond in kind. Something Kirin only found hotter as his cock throbbed. Law’s hands just barely able to grasp Kirin’s forearms, sweat making it difficult as Law trembled. And then Law moaned, loud and wild, hot cum shooting up Kirin’s body as Law clenched down.

Forcing Kirin to follow with a hoarse cry, hips jolting up against Law’s ass as he rode out the blinding force.

Still panting for air, Kirin gasped as hands closed around his face, dragging him into a deep kiss as Law growled. Whole body tingling, Kirin fell into the embrace, allowing Law to flip him over, their tongue tangling together until his lungs ached. Law yanked his head back, gasping for air as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“Ready for me to ride this pretty cock till dawn, Kiri-ya?” Law asked in a low growl, settling his hands over Kirin’s chest, thumbs brushing his nipples in slow circles.

Kirin gripped Law’s waist and forcefully bounced him on his cock.

“If you can.”

Law narrowed his eyes at the challenge, smirking as he leaned down to whisper into Kirin’s ear.

“After this, it’s your turn to ride.” Law threatened.

Kirin grinned, still panting as Law rode his half-hard cock with aggressive motions.

He couldn’t wait.

[mlynar-nearl]

hi was busy ystd but im back haha i got my acceptance sms (??) tdy and i got into my first choice course im super happy (but also apprehensive ;-;) !!!!

oh yeah also i think they r probably gonna push back old man for dorothy tbh bcs if they dont then theyll have to run obscure wanderer with dossoles retro instead of near light retro imo and i mean :( would they really run obscure wanderer with dossoles :( so yeah i actually hope they push it back (which means old man nearl like a solid 2 months later???) so that he can run w near light lol

and hell yeah me too i love the relationship btwn al haitham and kaveh its just gndhsjbd i love them. stupid but adorable. and yeah i do wish that they had more pocs in the game, like, itd be nice..... but i guess our only hope for it is natlan now but idt mhy will do it cos they suck. and what is. scatman diluc. if i may ask.

anyways have a good day ! :D

evidence for early mlynar is that he came after cc 10 on cn. evidence against is that we still don't have dorothy. honestly the same amount of time will pass for us if they DO do dorothy next as if they hadnt shuffled her at all so i really don't mind if it's a disappointment and she is next. because i've been waiting for him to become playable since near light premiered and i can wait a few more months.

they have SUCH a fun dynamic i adore them. something wrong with them. though i wish they weren't white. i'm half indian and a lot of the names in sumeru are based on hindi and arabic and it's utterly bizarre to be walking through a village that could conceivably be a place my ten times great grandparents lived in and everyone is pale as the driven snow. even in the desert like ??? please please please make a brown person. begging. i was saying earlier that it would be okay if they were like yeah everyones brown and alhaitham is our token white boy. this, i would take. but here we are. racism won today .

AHA scatman diluc was - i made a post about it a while ago but i was playing genshin while listening to my playlist of meme songs and i was doing the darknight hero questline and the scene of diluc beating up a bunch of abyss mages outside of monstadt while we were setting up his alibi played while scatman's world by the scatman was playing over his sick fucking moves. it had me in HYSTERICS. i've kind of wanted to edit the experience back together but my roommate says that the GI fandom will "tear me apart" if they see it, lol. so now diluc is the scatman. to me. (also, after seeing his skin on my roommate's acc, i called him "bewitchingly feminine" with a slash positive and now that phrase sends them into hysterics. i've got a normal relationship with diluc ig.)

[boreal-sea]

https://www.tumblr.com/femmessias2/740235855726329856/it-gets-worse-women-are-literally-affected-by-all

Play the game: do I have this random tumblr user blocked? Yes.

And from the username, it's probably because she's transphobic. And... yep. She's transphobic.

Anyway, her argument is that both of these situations are only about race.

They're not.

Both situations are textbook examples of "the damsel", a role only a white woman can play, and in many (but not all cases), she is playing this role a against a black man. His manhood is in fact making him more marginalized in this situation. Gender and skin color (and how those traits intersect) matter in these confrontations. White radical feminists intentionally deny this intersection of identity so they never have to acknowledge they can have power over a man.

The history of black men being painted as hypersexual monsters that prey on innocent white women is ingrained in American culture. That combination: black man, white woman, is ubiquitous. Any white American woman who denies she was taught this either by her parents or by our culture as a whole is a racist liar.

The white woman will play the damsel role for various reasons - usually shame or embarrassment. She will pretend to be afraid, in order to garner sympathy, empathy or even just pity from the other white people around her.

Central Park Karen - aka Amy Cooper - was embarrassed at being called out for disobeying the laws of the dog park. In her shame, she turned on her tears and let her racist upbringing as a white woman in America take over, and she turned the black man into a monster. And she knew what she was doing - she threatened him with his own identity through the force of police brutality. She made herself hysterical with fear rather than acknowledge she was wrong and her dog should have been on a leash.

Carolyn Bryant has admitted she was never touched by Emmett Till. But she used her white tears anyway and played the role of a damsel. Two white men went out and killed that innocent boy in her behalf to "protect her" and got away with it. Imagine if the police had found Anderson Cooper in Central Park the day Amy called them?

There is no question: Amy Cooper did not need protection. She had all the power in that situation. She escalated it, over and over. She knowingly attempted to gain even more power: by levying the power of the racist police state we live in against a black man knowing black men are uniquely marginalized due to a combination of their race and gender.

[withcolebrock]

Lovely

Corpse Husband x fem reader

Summary: Y/N surprises Corpse on his birthday

Warnings: a few swear words

Word count: 1,818

Author’s Note: happy early birthday Corpsey!! I thought about writing a birthday fic and this is what I cam up with, I hope you guys enjoy it. Also please tell me I’m not the only person that remembers Mario Super Sluggers, one of the best Mario games and I stand by that, that’s all. 

~~~

Corpse was never big on birthdays. He hated the attention it brought on him, he hated the idea of celebrating himself like that. He stopped recognizing his birthday when he was fifteen. Never acknowledge the day as something special. Until he met Y/N. Three years ago he met Y/N through social media and she was the first person he felt comfortable enough to show his face to.

The two were never romantically involved, per say, but they definitely had romantic feelings for each other. Their friends were big on teasing them about their feelings for each other, Felix and Sean always had a field day with this. Their friend group thought it was peak comedy. Even Corpse would admit that it was hilarious listening to Sean try to impersonate his voice.

Y/N and Corpse first met on his birthday, he invited her to come over and hang out. She happily accepted the offer. Ever since then Corpse has started to look forward to his birthday because he knew they would spend all day together. He knew he would be happy and smiling the whole day because of her.

He was laying in bed watching one of Dream’s Manhunts. He lifted his phone from his side table to begin to scroll through Twitter. It was the same old tweets and not a lot of tweets from his friends, quite boring. He reached to place it down when he saw a phone call from Y/N. His pinked lips curled up softly as he spent a few seconds admiring the photo of her in his merch hoodie that he took.

“Y/N, Hey,” he said while putting the phone on speaker. He cleared his throat while he rested the phone on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Corpse,” she whispered, a small whimper left her lips. Corpse furrowed his eyebrows as he adjusted the pillow under his head.

“What’s wrong, Hun?” he asked.

“I can’t make it tomorrow, my car won’t start and my brother came to look at it and it looks like I need a new battery and possibly an alternator, I’m so sorry Corpse, I really wanted to see you,”

Corpse let her finish talking while he felt his heart sink at her words. She was all he was looking forward to seeing for weeks. He spent a few days cleaning his apartment, making it spotless. He went out to the store to buy her favorite alcohol and other snacks. “It’s fi-Don’t worry about it, it’s okay,” he whispered. He tapped his finger against his laptop while clenching his jaw.

“We will still celebrate your birthday, I promise, we will still have a good day, okay?” she offered.

“Yeah, of course, it’ll still be good. Yeah, we can-yeah we can do something over discord,” he explained while he tossed his computer to the other side of his bed as he slowly pushed himself off the bed.

“Are you mad?” she asked, her voice was barely audible.

“No of course not, it’s something out of your control, it’s okay I promise,” he responded while he left his bedroom. His gaze looked all over his freshly cleaned apartment, that never looks this nice and put together, “I was just excited to see you is all,” the words fell from his lips without realizing. His eyes widened as she was silent on her end of the phone.

“I was excited too,” she whispered. After a few more minutes they ended their phone call with a quick shared goodbye. He rested his phone down on the counter as he continued to frustratingly clench his jaw. His gaze shifted towards the bottle of Vodka in the corner of his kitchen. He sighed while he reached for it and quickly untwisted it. He brought it to his lips and took a quick sip of it. He cringed as he set the bottle down on the counter while twisting the lid back on.

“How does she like this shit,” he muttered as he shook his head again at the after taste. He walked towards his bathroom, while dropping his head slightly.  He rested his phone and his watch down onto the bathroom counter. He looked into the mirror briefly before shifting his gaze back towards his feet. He started to take off his clothes to get into the shower and to try and rush the end of the day. He wanted to try and sleep to get Y/N off of his mind.

~~~

He was surprised when he woke up when he realized he did in fact fall asleep for a while. It was late past nine o’clock when he reached for his phone on his side table. He opened Twitter to see hundreds of thousands of birthday tweets from fans. His face softens as his lips curled up into a smile.

Over the years his fans would tell him happy birthday, over social media but this year felt different. The constant messages rolling through slowly started forming tears into his eyes. The amount of endless love he always received from his fans always made him feel better and slightly more secure than last time. His eyes filled with more tears as he saw his friends tweet sweet little birthday messages. A few tears slipped his eyes as he began to reply to their tweets and private messages.

He raised his hand as he wiped his eyes. He shook his head as she slowly stood up from his bed while he kept his phone in his hand. The birthday messages and wishes were a quick and short distraction from the one person he wanted to see. The one person who made him excited for his birthday again. He sighed as he opened his fridge, taking a bottle of water.

The silence in his apartment was heartbreaking, despite the love and appreciation he felt from his fans and his friends, he was still alone. He never wanted to remember the feeling of being alone on his birthday again. He loved the joy and love he felt from Y/N when she would spent the day with him. He wiped his eye as he rested his phone beside his bottle of water when it started to ring. He quickly cleared his throat as he answered the phone.

“Open the door,” she spoke. Corpse’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood silently while he waited for her to elaborate, “Open the door, please,” she continued. He chuckled nervously as he kept the phone to his ear as he wandered towards the door. He looked through the peep hole to see Y/N standing holding a small cake. He chuckled as he pulled the door open. She smiled widely when she saw him. His smile was as wide as it could go as he was at a loss for words. His body was tense as he looked deeply into her eyes. “Happy birthday,” she whispered as she stared towards him. Corpse slowly brought his phone down into his hoodie pocket as he reached out for the cake.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” he said as he walked towards the kitchen. She placed her phone into her jean pocket as she kept her gaze on Corpse.

“Suprise?” she let out while she ran her fingers through her hair. He chuckled as he turned to face her. He leaned his body against the counter while he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Come here,” he said, barely audible. She rushed towards him delicately wrapping her arms around him as he slowly did the same. He took a long deep breath as he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. His eyes shut as he fought off the tears of joy filling his eyes. He sniffed, as she pulled away from him.

‘Are you okay?” she asked as she stood in front of him, anxiously playing with her sleeves. He nodded as he chewed at his bottom lip.

“I’m just happy you’re here is all,”

~~~

They sat together with a half eaten chocolate cake with a half a bottle of wine, with Mario Super Sluggers on the TV screen. She leane her head back laughing as she watched Corpse try and get Bowser to get to first base. “Come on, come on, come on, Oh fuck that!” he yelled through a few chuckles. Y/N gets Diddy Kong to get Bowser out. “Oh come on Bowser you’re supposed to be all strong and shit what is this bullshit,” he complained while he sat back down on the couch. She leaned her head back as she began laughing hysterically.

“I think it’s just you, Hun, this aint got nothing to do with Bowser,” she explained. He shook his head while laughing.

“I am so good at this game, it’s definitely Bowser for sure,” he continued. They played the game for a few more rounds, there was tons of trash talk and laughter shared. A full bottle of wine and a few vodka sodas later they were both drunk and still making their way through the cake sitting on the coffee table.

“I’m so glad you came, honestly would’ve been a shit day without you,” Corpse said as he took another fork full of cake and he slowly brought it to his lips.

“It’s been a great day, it’s always a great day with you, Lovely,” she turned her head towards him. He tilted his head to meet her gaze. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he stares into her eyes, admiring the color. “Why are you laughing?” she chuckled as she spoke quietly. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.

“That’s a new nickname,” he whispered. She furrowed her eyebrows as she tilted her head back slightly, “Lovely,” he hummed before leaning slightly closer to her, “I like that one.”

“I’ll start using it more then,” she said while she turned her head away from him briefly, “Lovely.” He smiled widely as he rolled his eyes playfully. He lifted his hand and wiped his hair away from his eyes as he reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened his camera. “What are you doing?”

“Smile,” he said while he held the camera facing her. She furrowed her eyebrows and laughed nervously. She smiled towards Coprse. He took a few of the photos and held his phone up as he looked towards her through the phone. He admired her smile, the way her nose scrunched up slightly when she did. He slowly lowered his phone as he kept his gaze towards her.

“What,” she let out nervously, her lips still curled upwards. He shook  his head as he reluctantly shifted his gaze back to his phone. He went to Twitter and picked his favorite one. He captioned the photo, Great Birthday with my Lovely :).

He drunkenly posted without thinking about the repercussions that would’ve occurred.

[apompkwrites]

I just read your story, the one with Xiao and Albedo, its really good! I love it! Is it ok if you do the same thing but with Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe and Diluc version. I can see how excited these guys are since Kaeya first appeared is clapping his hand, the way Childe call Lumine 'Hey Girlie', Zhongli with how handsome he is especially his eyes and with Diluc how mysterious he is when he appeared out of nowhere

Feel free to do it if you're not busy or you can ignore this :3

reader impact || first meeting cont.

series masterlist characters: kaeya, diluc, childe genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: i’m glad you liked it! i’m having a lot of fun writing these so expect some more coming out :D i plan on doing more first meeting hcs and then branching off to other scenarios, so if there’s something specific, please request it! also, i’ve already done one for zhongli!

kaeya's playthrough -

he's more of a variety streamer, honestly.

most of his viewers watch him because of his carefree nature (as well as his looks).

obviously, he'd do a bunch of drinking streams whenever he could where he would just talk to his viewers about whatever came to mind.

during those streams, his viewers often try to ask him questions, which are only answered in vague statements.

his gaming streams are pretty rare compared to his chatting streams, but they're there nonetheless.

his viewers jump when they hear he's planning on playing genshin impact.

just neverending messages about a character they are convinced he will love.

he's so tempted to ask but decides not to, wanting to learn who this mystery character is on his own.

honestly, he was expecting you to appear way later in the story.

he's very interested in the looming threat of stormterror.

his character lands on the ground and he leans back to watch the cutscene play.

then he hears footsteps and sees his character look to someone offscreen.

this man practically LUNGES INTO HIS MONITOR WHEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO YOU.

you walk in clapping at a calculated pace, which is when he leans forward and stares at your character model.

"i can't believe you have the power to stand up against that dragon... that said, are you a new ally... or a new storm?"

"oh, hun, i can be whatever you want me to be."

HE'S ALREADY FLIRTING WITH YOU PLEASE HIS CHAT IS IN HYSTERICS-

he knows his chat is freaking out, so he turns to the camera and sends his signature smirk.

"now i know why you guys wanted me to play this so bad."

"(name), kaeya, you've come at the right time. we must..."

"now now, don't forget to introduce us."

"oh... right. this is (name), our cavalry captain. these two are travelers from afar."

"ooh, they're a person in charge, too?"

HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING TO HIS CHAT BUT THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO HIM.

he genuinely likes you. like genuinely. he's fallen deep and he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

if your costume has that long v-neck like his does...

hOO BOY HE'S THANKING EVERY DEVELOPER OF THIS GAME.

anyway, he's heard that there are characters you can only obtain throguh wishes, so he's kind of nervous to find out if that's the case with you.

he just really wants you in his party so y'all can be mysterious together.

"let me show you how the knights of favonius conquer our adversaries!"

"oh, yes. please do."

his viewers can and will make compilations of him flirting with you.

ngl, he's looking forward to those.

sometimes, your voice gets all quiet and he melts when he hears that.

he will pay to have voicelines of you flirting with him--

when he enters your trial domain, he will purposely avoid completing it just in case he doesn't get to keep you.

he sees some of his viewers talking about how you're a bad character and that the other characters are so much better.

too bad, they're banned now.

no (name) slander in his chat, thank you very much.

he loves your quips whenever he uses your elemental skill.

he loves you even more if those quips are puns based on your element.

finally, he's nearing the end of your domain. when that happens, he will slowly turn towards the camera and stare.

"if they aren't a permanent member on my team, this'll be the last stream of genshin."

"let's continue our adventure, shall we?"

obtained (name): a thinker in the knights of favonius with a somewhat exotic appearance.

"okay, so we'll continue streaming genshin soon."

he'll put you in the first slot of his party, moving his traveler character to the second.

his streams will always include him flirting with you, even if you don't reply.

diluc's playthrough -

his streams are mainly bartending based, so he likes mixing drinks on stream for his viewers.

he doesn't drink them, though. he gives them out to his friends and family once the stream is over.

it's pretty rare for him to play games but he'll do an occasional gaming stream if his friends and family don't want any drinks.

his chat always makes fun of him because he's a bartender that doesn't like the taste of alcohol.

he's very blunt, so he's not afraid to drop a game immediately if he isn't interested.

in fact, that's almost what he did with genshin.

it's not like the game is bad or anything, diluc just didn't care for it because of all the hype his chat shared.

he keeps playing, though, because someone promised he would really enjoy a character that comes up in the prologue.

granted, it's over an hour or so but it doesn't matter--

when he gets to the domain teaching him how to use cryo, he hates every minute of it.

he hates the character he's given and just wants to leave.

the demo character is one he doesn't really care for, especially because he's the type of person he dislikes coming to the bars he works at.

his chat is laughing at him when they reach the end because the cutscene continues with the character he hates.

he feels a bit better when he learns the abyss mage is in the domain because he gets to see and hear something that isn't the cryo character.

then he meets you.

you run into the domain out of nowhere, quickly defeating the abyss mage and tossing it towards the corner.

"knights of favonius... always so inefficient."

his chat goes insane when your character appears, especially because of how dumbfounded diluc looks.

he's known for not really emoting and it's the same case for this scene. however, his chat knows he is in love with your character.

he takes a few minutes when he's kicked out of the domain but he clears his throat and looks over at the camera.

"i'll be streaming this game again soon when the others don't want any drinks."

YOU SINGLEHANDEDLY SAVED THIS GAME FROM BEING TOSSED AWAY WITHIN A MINUTE OF APPEARING

THE POWER YOU HOLD OVER THIS MAN AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME--

cut to after he's stolen the lyre and is sent to the tavern.

he's a bit excited because he gets to visit mondstadt's tavern but then--

"master (name), this is this week's accounts."

"they're back."

HE'S SO NONCHALANT BUT WE ALL KNOW HE'S FREAKING OUT

he gets second-hand embarrassment when venti talks to you asking for the... least conspicuous table.

he's kinda sad when your character is suspicious of him, but he understands.

when the knights leave the tavern, he really wants venti to just shut up.

please you're embarrassing the man.

when he hears how you feel about him joining the knights, he is so willing to quit--

man just wants you to be proud of him and trust him :((

he's relieved to hear that you will help him and you don't hate him.

please give him validation--

childe's playthrough -

man is still rich he can do whatever he wants.

his gaming streams would definitely be pvp based games. honestly, just any game where he can fight someone, he'll play.

his chat also has a few little games they like to play together like guessing what the hell this man does to have so much money--

also his siblings crash in on his streams sometimes :D

those are pretty much the only times you'll see him be soft and not so competitive.

teucer likes crashing his streams to show off his plushies :))

anyway, genshin time!

he definitely tried to fight paimon the first time he loaded the game.

please expect lots of genshin stream from this guy because he needs to make his team deal the highest damage he can get.

also his wallet doesn't even have a dent in it despite all of the money he's spent on characters and weapons.

please sir what do you do for all that money

ok so onto your first meeting

he was really excited when the exuvia fell during the rite of descension because he thought he would get to fight whoever killed the great archon of liyue.

he really wanted to fight the millelith but then his chat convinced him to dodge them first.

one of his viewers explains that there's a character they know he'll like and he was very... intriguied to say the least.

he moves forward in his chair once his character is heard by the millelith, prepared to fight the various soldiers surrounding him.

"hang on, sweetheart. i've got this."

this man will squeal when you flip over the stairs in front of his character.

he doesn't know who you are and what you do but he knows for a fact that you are his new favorite character.

you take down all of the guards in two seconds, leaving him (and his in-game character) dumbfounded.

"come with me."

"o-okay..."

he's smitten.

he absolutely loves the way your character fights even if he met you about... a minute ago.

his siblings definitely come into his room to check on him because he's so quiet.

once he realizes you're a part of the harbingers, he's even more obsessed.

he hates the options the game gives him when he needs to respond because 2/3 of them are insulting you.

anyway he really likes listening to your voice.

he will give anything to hear you call him sweetheart again.

his chat informs him that the traveler he chose changed the nickname you give him, which makes him very happy.

when you send him off to talk to the other adepti, he's kind of disappointed he doesn't get to hang out with you.

but when he gets back to you...

"welcome back, sweetheart. how was your trip to jueyun karst?"

HE'S SOFT ALL OVER AGAIN PLEASE KEEP CALLING HIM SWEETHEART!!!

when he learns you're rich just like him... he gets all pouty. his chat, of course, wants to know why.

"... i want to be able to spoil her."

PLEASE HE'S SO IN LOVE WITH YOU <3

[piecksz]

dirty little secret | (m)

pairings: jock!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, dub con, cheating, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, saliva, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sneaky sex, explicit language

words: 3.2k+

summary: eren’s unsatisfied in his relationship with his girlfriend, so he looks to you for sexual gratification.

a/n: all the characters in this story are adults! it was originally meant to be a college au but the whole “fire drill” detail doesn’t really make sense in a college setting since fire drills are typically held in dorms, so as per usual 18+ minors dni. 

Your legs moved quickly against the polished tile of the hallway while you sped up to meet with your class who had already been far ahead of you, disappearing into the throng of people filing outside at the blaring signal of the fire alarm.

You’d excused yourself during your lesson to use the bathroom, unaware that an unplanned drill had been scheduled for that day, so with haste you finished up and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of your classmates before you were left inside the building.

As you rounded the corner, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your forearm, forcibly pulling you behind the small door that stood at the end of the corridor.

Instinctively, your hands balled into fists, and you threw them blindly in the direction of your assailant. You hoped that you’d at least land one successful hit, and it would give you enough time to break out of their hold and flee.

“Y/N, relax! It’s just me!”

Your hysterical flailing ceased, and you opened your eyes hesitantly at the sound of your attacker’s familiar voice. “Eren?”

Frantic pupils fell upon a pair of mischievous jade eyes, and your terror-stricken expression contorted into an angry scowl as you drove the palms of your hands into his chest, sending him careening back into the metal shelf behind him. “You asshole! What is wrong with you?”

Eren’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch himself and the rack before both were sent tumbling to the floor. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing away the soreness spreading over the skin of his arm from your knuckles’ potent impact. “You’ve got a brutal left hook.”

“Yeah? You wanna see my right one?” Your right hand tightened as if you were projecting another throw, but Eren’s outstretched arm maintained a safe amount of space between you two. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Eren’s tightly-wound eyebrows began to arch as his distressed face eased into a buoyant grin. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

You blinked. “Were you the one that pulled the fire alarm?”

“No, I didn’t pull the fucking fire alarm,” he replied sourly, evidently offended that you’d suggest he’d do something so juvenile. “I just got lucky.”

Your curled lip relaxed, and your irritation waned into a resigned stare. You desperately wanted to trust Eren’s saccharine words, and it didn’t take much effort to believe him while you were faced with his stupidly winsome expression. His smile was warm, eyes glossing over with adoration like he was truly expressing what he felt, and it wasn’t just empty flattery, yet you’d been more perceptive than to just take his intentions for what they were. Rather, you’d been smart enough to learn from last time.

He’d said something along the same lines, after you two had hooked up in his car after his lacrosse game. He was feeling mirthful after winning and wanted to celebrate with you, but on the cusp of his orgasm, he’d let the “love” phrase slip, and when you’d asked him about it afterward, Eren mulled over it for a second before nodding, admitting that he had feelings for you.

His confession had been somewhat of a relief, and you’d expected him to end things with his girlfriend shortly after he’d realized what he really wanted, but the following day in the courtyard, you were stunned to see Eren sitting with her and the rest of his friends, showering her with kisses like nothing had taken place the night before.

You swore you’d learned your lesson.

“Are these new? Can I see them?” Eren’s fingers gently wrapped around the frame of your glasses, pulling them from your face, and he slid them onto his ears, adjusting their position on his nose. “How do I look?”

“I can’t see, Eren,” you answered simply.

Eren laughed bashfully. “Right, I think they look better on you instead.” He slid your glasses off and tucked them back behind your ears.

Your lenses restored your lucid vision, and now that you could properly see, you noticed the way Eren’s lips were parted, lids low and languid as his face lingered only inches from yours. He’d used your glasses as leverage to get closer to you, a crafty technique, and now that he was close enough, he could whisper.

“You know what else looks better on you?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into his cheek, and he closed the space between you two, fixing his lips onto yours while his thumb and index finger supported the curve of your chin. His kiss was slow, mouth undulating with the most tender of movements, and when he carefully slid his tongue between your teeth you could taste the vague chill of spearmint on his breath. He proceeded timidly, as though he was touching you for the first time, but that was the very detail of your couplings that always had you running back. He handled you like he cared.  

The tip of Eren’s nose skimmed against yours, ever so slightly, while he continued prompting his tongue further into the depths of your mouth, eager to have you savor his desire.

Your body was traitorous and unmoving, allowing Eren to command you with his lips, and for a few blissful minutes, you forgot the two of you were crammed into the unyielding space of a storage room.

Eren withdrew from your mouth, and tilted his head to the side so he could occupy the empty curve of your neck, and once you felt him press mild kisses to the hollow of your throat, you freed a displeased sigh and sent him backwards with an assertive push.

“Seriously? In the supply closet?”

“We’ve got like fifteen minutes before everyone comes back.” He reassured you, shrugging dismissively before tipping his head in for another kiss.

You shifted backward, studying Eren as he continued to lean in until his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wondering why he wasn’t receiving any contact, his eyes flitted open.

“You still haven’t broken up with her have you?” You pressed your lips into an unamused line.

Your question had Eren angling until he was standing upright, and then he rolled his head back and released a groan as though already tired from your question. “Y/N, come on. I don’t feel like having this conversation.”

“Have you?” you probed.

“No, I haven’t. It’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

Eren drew his eyebrows up, now in regret. “We’ve been together since freshman year. Do you know how big of a douchebag it makes me look if I break up with her two months before graduation?”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Do you know how big of a douchebag you look fucking me behind her back?”

Eren’s eyes drifted to the side.

“Or are you just embarrassed to be seen with me?” you questioned, canting your body into his view.

“Okay, you sound ridiculous,” Eren laughed dryly.

“Because I’m not a cheerleader or an athlete, and I have about one other friend. You don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking the girl that spends lunch in the library.”

“What kind of cliche movie do you think we’re in right now?”

“It’s just something I’d expect from someone who peaked in high school.” Your words were sharp on the tip of your tongue, and you could tell by the way Eren recoiled that your statement managed to penetrate his seemingly careless guise.

“I’ll handle it okay?” Eren’s hand slid over the back of his neck, looking blameworthy of all the faults you’d accused him of. “But right now I really need help handling something else.”

Your eyes narrowed in his direction after realizing he’d managed to do it again, forcing you into forgiveness with his charming abashed impression. He’d taken advantage of how spineless you were when it came to matters concerning him.

“Please?” he urged.

It was his thick brown brows that were creased in the middle and opalescent green eyes that stared you down that made him look so sincere. He was easily one of the most spellbinding people you’d ever met, attractive and likable, he knew exactly what cards to play to get his way, and even though you were aware of it, you always found yourself wrapped around his finger. A pretty face and a sweet tongue was a recipe written up by the devil himself.

You lowered yourself onto your knees, leveled with Eren’s hands working swiftly against the buttons of his slacks. “I’m done doing this, Yeager,” you announced wryly.

“I know,” Eren said, as though guaranteeing you it would be the last time.

He pushed his pants down along with his briefs in one swift motion, freeing his cock from the tight cotton confines of his underwear. His length was already rigid, the sticky beads of precum leaking out of his swollen head the result of your stalling. He’d already provoked himself by thinking of all the ways he wanted to have you, you didn’t have to do anything more to get him hard.

A relieved exhale left Eren’s lips once he grabbed the base of his cock in the sweaty heat of his palm, tapping his wet tip against your bottom lip, then he pulled the hem of his shirt up slightly, allowing you enough clearance to take him into your mouth.

You wrapped a ginger hand around his length, feeling the way his warmth throbbed in your fingers, and you leaned in, using your tongue to lap along the rim of his cock.

“Fuck—” Eren’s voice was husky as it ripped through the depths of his throat. He watched you with heavy lids, observing the way your tongue’s tip danced around his swollen head, giving coy licks to his slit, and the way his cock twitched with need at the slightest provocation. “Jesus Christ—”

You gave him a few generous pumps before taking him whole, humming at the way his girth felt against the inside of your cheeks. The skin of his length ran like hot silk over your tongue as you fell into a natural rhythm, and your lips and hand rocked back and forth against him.

Eren’s face broke out into a dirty grin. “You’re such a little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

You glared up at him over the edge of your glasses.

“Sorry,” he responded meekly, fingers brushing away the strands of hair that fell loosely against his forehead.

You continued working against him, excited by the honeyed melody of his moans every time your fingertips ran over the sensitive skin of his balls. Eren’s cock pulsated against the surface of your tongue with each small ministration, and you watched the muscles across his abdomen tense.

“I know you hate me,” he started. “But you have no idea how hot you look on your knees right now. Keep glaring at me like that, and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

The mention of Eren’s warning had a torrent of heat surging between your legs, and you fought off the urge to dip your fingers beneath your skirt and begin rubbing away your discomfort. You didn’t want him to know you were enjoying this almost as much as he was.

Your heavy yet stifled breathing caused your glasses to fog lightly, so you sat back on your knees, withdrawing your mouth from him briefly to catch your breath. You lifted a thumb to wipe away at the saliva that dribbled down your chin, but Eren’s fast fingers stopped you, holding your wrist away from your face.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “You look pretty like that.”

You ran the back of your hand across your cheeks, as though you were trying to rub off the furious heat that crept across your skin and over your nose. “Shut up.”

Eren only responded with an amused smile.

Then when you brought him back to your lips for the last time, his hands settled on the crown of your head, and he pushed his cock back in until his tip relentlessly prodded the back of your throat. Holding your head in place, he began jerking his hips, fucking your mouth at an agonizingly slow pace that had heavy tears cascading down your cheeks.

Every time his cock slowly and deliberately pressed against the back of your throat, you gagged involuntarily, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs.

“Feel how hard I am?” Eren asked. “You did that.” He rocked his pelvis forward again, muffling your whines.

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your pretty little face, don’t you?” He thrusted himself between your jaws, throwing his head back and liberating a series of foul swears. “I really need to feel you.”

With the declaration of his wish, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, inhaling sharply at the obscene sight of his length coated and dripping with your spit.

After your dry heaving subsided, Eren helped you up with a gentle hand, running his palm between your shoulder blades to soothe your coughing. He made sure you were steady before cuing you to turn so that your back was facing him, then he watched as your shaky hands slid underneath your skirt and fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear.

“Pull out this time, Eren. I mean it,” you rasped, cautioning him ahead of time. You stepped out of your underwear and used the toe of your shoe to cast it aside.

Eren’s hands reached under your hem, large palms gliding over the curve of your ass. “The odds of you getting pregnant are like one in what?” He flipped up your skirt and continued teasing the skin of your backside. “Plus I always cover you for the pill, don’t I?”

“I don’t care, cum in me and you’re dead.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the metal shelf, and you slid your arm around Eren’s shoulder while he placed one hand on your waist for support and curved the other under your thigh. Then, he brought your knee up to his chest until all of your weight was allocated onto one leg.

Eren held his cock with his fingertips and slid himself between your folds from behind. You let out a soft, unanticipated whimper, but quickly brought your teeth down on the flesh of your tongue to smother any more sounds of pleasure. You didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder at Eren’s satisfied smirk, you could tell by the way his hand squeezed your thigh that he had noticed it.

Eren positioned himself at your entrance, skimming his wet tip over your hole before sliding himself inside you. His cock slipped in with ease, your saliva acting as a crude lubricant.

“Oh fuck—” His breath was hot over the span of your neck.

“Eren—” you sighed, forgetting all your pretenses. You closed your eyes, enjoying the way he stretched you out, and then he started moving causing a pattern of shallow cries and moans to fall from your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy,” Eren groaned, thrusting up into you, slowly and rhyhmically, steadily filling you to the hilt every time, while his hand traveled beneath your ribcage to cup your breast over the crisp fabric of your uniform. “She doesn’t take me as well as you do.”

You shook your head, making weak sounds of protest between delicate whines. “I don’t wanna hear that, Eren—”

“But it’s true.” Eren moved quickly between your legs, hissing every time your slick walls tightened around his aching cock. With each punctuated thrust, you continued to lose yourself, until your need unfurled and Eren had you under siege. His methodical pace sent you into a flurry of moans, and you cried his name over and over.

His even strokes began to stagger, and his breathing became rapid and shallow, chaotic pants of hot air rolling out over the span of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum—” He continued pounding into you, faster now, harder, keen on drawing out his orgasm, and then Eren gave one last thrust, so deep it had you shutting your eyes and pursing your lips to keep from screaming. Then he shuddered, his body convulsing with the bout of his orgasm, and you felt him release inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy with every twitch of his cock.

“Y/N—” he moaned, resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder while he continued to jettison every drop of his release until he was sure he was empty.

Your hands tightened around his shoulder, as the ripple from Eren’s climax had your cunt tightening around his length, and ecstasy spread over the span of your pelvis and down your thighs. Once he grew limp, he slipped himself out of you, and you felt a slow stream of his cum run down the inside of your thigh.

“I said not to cum in me you fucking idiot.” Your legs were sweaty, making it easier for you to twist yourself out of Eren’s hold until you were now standing upright, both legs planted unsteadily on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Eren wrapped his arms around you apologetically, but you shrugged him off, using your elbow to drive him back.

Your eyes scanned the closet with haste, looking for tissue paper you could steal to clean up the mess between your thighs, and Eren must have sensed your aim because he made use of his height, seizing a large roll from the top shelf and unwrapping it before handing it to you.

You grabbed it out of his hands, waiving a statement of gratitude, and ripped away a few plies, crumpling them up into a generous wad. “You owe me eighty dollars.”

Eren’s eyebrows lifted and his face twisted into an incredulous expression while he stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned them up. “Are you running a prostitution ring?”

“I’m serious. Fifty for the pill and thirty just for dealing with you.” You straightened out your uniform, and watched as Eren did the same, tugging on his collar to smooth out the creases.

“You’re a mean little bitch,” he jeered with a slight playful undertone, and then he looked off to the side in concentration. He turned around, pressing his ear to the door of the supply closet, and then he looked back at you. “I think they’re coming back.”

You hummed.

“I’ll walk out first.”

“Right,” you said unenthusiastically, recalling that no matter how many praises he lavished you with in private, in public you were still his dirty little secret. He vowed to you that he would end his current relationship because it was clear you were growing tired of being his toy, good enough for him to fuck but undeserving of anything else. And after all was said and done, when you two passed each other in the halls, he’d still glance at you with the cordiality of a stranger.

Eren had promised to handle it, yet it was obvious he had no intentions to, and you knew that while you watched him give you a fond smile before slipping out of the supply closet.

[anticapitalistclown]

hi~ I wonder if I could request make up sex scenario with Gun? ty~~

Sure  ~

Make up sex scenario: I love when you get angry.

tw: degrading, spanking, over-stimulation, oral

Arguing with Gun is probably the worst, he stays calm with an air of superiority making you feel like an hysteric, still, there are moments when he also loses it, he screams at you, and, it turns you on.

Right now, Gun just stopped to raise his voice against you, with a sigh he sits on the sofa and massages his brow “there’s no use, I don’t even remember why we started this fucking fight on the first place” although he has stopped screaming, his tone is intimidating. 

You’re silent watching him still repressing his anger, you move closer to him catching his eyes on you again, your dress drops to the floor, revealing the lingerie he bought to you, you pouted and looked at him with cute innocent eyes “you know, you’re handsome when you get angry” you repeat what he normally tells you when you get mad at him.

Gun notices that you’re playing his game now against him “this bitch” he mumbles getting up, he walks closer to you “ DO YOU THINK I’M A FUCKING JOKE” happy you have this influence over him you let a smile escape, as the arousal surrounds your whole body you close your legs to calm the pain that has formed between them, of course this goes notice for Gun “babe, don’t get angry on me” you got close to him, kissing his neck, his weakness, Gun lets out a groan moving you ven more closer to him, his hands grabbing your ass making you rub your wet cunt on his leg “I’ll do everything for you” you say now with choked breaths, Gun lets out a sarcastic laugh “everything?” “everything”.

You find yourself trapped in Gun’s lap, ass up, as he slaps it without any consideration, every slap bringing impulses to your whole body, your body getting tense from pleasure and pain from each stroke, Gun’s hand is now massaging your ass, calming your pain “don’t you have to say something to me” he says slapping your ass again “y-yes!” you say desperate “and that is?”  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry to make you mad at me, ahh Gun ~ ” Gun kisses the marks that his hands let on your ass “see, if you behaved, those things wouldn’t happen” his hands now travelling to your pussy, helping you with your pain “unless you like being treated like a whore” Gun is rubbing his fingers on your clit, living a slap “answer” you feel already like you can’t talk “ah ~ yes I like when you treat me like your whore!” Gun’s mood is more calm after seeing you in such a state.

With ease he pulls you on an armchair, your legs resting on the armrests leaving you wide open for him, he is right now seeing his beautiful girlfriend all needy for him, you are breathing heavier your hips desperately moving up and down in need to feel something “you get all so bratty and now look at you, so fucking needy” you feel tears threatening to escape from your eyes “p-please Gun!” Gun can’t leave you suffering like this, not when you can suffer from over-stimulation, after all, he’s not that bad; Gun kissed your forehead and lips before going down on you, he’s on his knees using his tongue to make you reach heaven.

The single touch of his tongue in your clit already send you impulses all over your body, you are so sensitive under Gun’s touch. You already felt like cumming, since you didn’t want to annoy him you kept your impulse of grabbing his hair batting your arms on the air and grabbing your thighs, Gun of course knew your concern, he gets one of your hands and moves it on his hair “thank you Gun, ah ah ah yes! thank you” as a way to respond to your gratitude Gun increases the speed of his tongue noticing your shaking legs you were about to cum “Gun m‘cumming” if it wasn’t because he is fully concentrated to your orgasm he would laugh at you, you didn’t last at cumming on his tongue, Gun is looking at you as he wiped your juices from his mouth he looks so proud of what he has made.

This doesn’t stop tho, Gun had already made you cum 4 times more with just two of his fingers, knuckle deep inside of you, and he isn’t planning to stop not when you are such a mess, still, the mess right now isn’t only you but also the armchair, the floor and Gun’s arms and clothes all wet from you, his entire forearm glistens with the evidence of you, and his hand is so soaked that when he pulls back from your cunt, strings of cum attach him to you, but he’s the one that makes it worse, hand rubbing harshly against your cunt whenever you squirt so that it truly gets everywhere. 

“Gun! I’m sorry! I-I’m sorry! m’sorry!” you cry as you jerk one more time, by the time you’re hiccuping, still babbling your apologies, Gun’s fingers keep his pace, enjoying how you became such a mess by just two of his fingers “my pretty princess is so damn sensitive it drives me crazy” another orgasm seems to be closer, your pussy fluttering in a way that it’s not sure whether it needs him deeper or out, he sinks his fingers further inside you anyways “Gun! cumming!” you warned, Gun kissed your forehead as his thumb joined, rubbing fiercely your aching clit “go ahead, cum on my fingers my pretty little brat” you cum again, crying and pleading for forgiveness “don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make sure you scream my name all night” Gun unfastens his pants, his now aching bulge has being annoying him for a bit, you stare up at him with so much lust, so desperate, with your watery eyes and pouty lips, he smiles softly as he picks you up on his arms and leaves soft kisses on your face, with his arms he alines your entry to the tip of his cock “be a good girl and take me well” you nod preparing for losing all that’s left of your insanity tonight.