#even something as small as the footstep sound effects are different

[ronqueesha]

The Warhammer 40k dlc for powerwash simulator is everything I was hoping for and more. The sound effects, the rp and lore, even the environment has no business going this hard, but it does.

I love it when you can tell something is a labor of love.

[cybiirz]

ೃ⁀➷ DOCUMENTS

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : Seems like a certain Warden had tired himself out. Being the kind person you were, you chose to help, but you forgot how deceiving an inmate can be. He was no different…But at least he pays?

WC : 829

“Wriothesleyyy! I brought you something from Sigewinne. She says it’s for like, helping you stay awake or whatever,” You groaned out as you treaded up the stairs. Currently, you were holding a large box of medicine that you were supposed to be delivering to other inmates.

That was your punishment for getting involved in a little experiment that was supposedly forbidden in the fortress…Either way, it was tiring and you just wanted it to be done with.

Your footsteps echoed against the walls as you stomped onto the metal stairwell. Finally, you reached the top, and with a lack of breath might you add. Who the hell needed so much medicine anyway? Nevertheless, you kept your head low as you observed the different bottles inside.

“There’s a lot here, let me just find yours and…got it. Huh, this thing has way too many side effects! How the hell do you even—” You lifted up your head to look at Wriothesley, only to find him practically passed out on his desk. You paused and cocked your head to the side.

Suddenly, you had an idea and with a smile and a slight skip in your step, you closed in on the desk. Outstretching your arms, you held the box over the table before dropping the heavy equipment, creating a loud slam against the wood.

No reaction.

“Huh? So he’s really knocked out then,” You murmured quietly to yourself. You opted to walk around the table and slowly approached his unconscious form. You began poking his head, and to no surprise, no reaction.

“Jeez. You overwork yourself too much you idiot,” You whispered next to him. Glancing at all of his papers, it took less than a second to see how messed up everything was. You sighed deeply and decided to help out this son of a gun.

It had been about an hour or so, with you going over the different documents and having to dig deep into his shelves to pair up each page to its designated folder. Covering your mouth, you let out a loud yawn before looking back over at the warden. Still fast asleep.

A small chuckle left your lips as you walked back over to him. Resting yourself against the table, you lifted your left hand and gently stroked his head.

“Well I organised each and every document for you. And since I went over each word written, I've seen you’re doing a good job for this prison. Even for inmates like me, you treat us well…But you are definitely paying me back one way or another once you’re awake,” After partially scolding him but mainly complimenting him, you began to get lost in a daze as you stared softly at the man in front of you.

Once you finished speaking, his head turned slightly, eyes opening with a small smirk splayed on his lips. You swiftly retracted your hand and looked away, trying to avoid his stare.

“Thanks for that (name). I appreciate you doing that but, you know I could’ve done all of it that whole time. I wasn’t actually asleep you know?,” He replied, his voice slightly condescending.

“Yeah well I expect payment back and—” Your arms crossed over your chest before you paused. What did he just say? “Hang on, you were pretending?! You little liar! You’re so lazy that you had to fake sleeping to get someone else to do your work for you?! Now I better get that payment before I rip your—”

You were quickly cut off as a pair of lips landed directly onto yours. Your eyes instantly widened in shock as Wriothesley lifted his hand and cupped your face. Slowly but surely, you melted into the kiss and held your arm up before resting your hand onto his shoulder.

After parting, the light sounds of heavy breathing could be heard from you. You tried to look everywhere apart from him, but he moved his hand to grip your chin, causing you to face him.

“That was, unnecessary warden,” You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That was your payment,” He responded smugly. Looking at him with your blood rushing to your cheeks, you noticed the slight crease in the corners of his eyes. He was smiling at you, and not one of mockery or a fake smile, it was genuine.

“Well then…I have to get going and deliver these to the other inmates. Thank you for paying me back,” You cleared your throat before moving away from him and picking up the box. You left his medicine on the table as you made sure to secure the lid of the box. He crossed his arms over his torso as you began to descend down the stairs.

“(Name). Come back again and I'll be sure to repay you for whatever documents you organise for me,” Wriothesley’s voice had a somewhat teasing lilt to it, but it was evident he was serious. You rolled your eyes and simply scoffed at him before taking your leave.

But who were you to deny such a special treat?

A/N : Love me a little overworked man. But anyway, it’s finally my half term so i’ll hopefully be posting small drabbles that appear my head. Series work is becoming boring so oneshots and drabbles will probs be my thing. I might finish off the Gepard series but we’ll see. Also i’m thinking of doing a revamp to this blog buttt idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave requests!

[666writingcafe]

A Lesson in Demon Anatomy (NSFW)

Asmo has made a huge mistake.

Okay, maybe "huge mistake" is a bit dramatic, but there's no doubt that he messed up in his calculations. He thought that everyone was out of the house and wouldn't be returning for quite a while, so he felt okay walking around in his birthday suit.

It's something that he used to do nearly every day, but when the exchange program was in the works, he agreed to put a stop to it in order to create a good impression on whomever was going to stay with him and his brothers. However, when he got the opportunity to be alone, he couldn't help but resort back to old habits.

So, one could imagine his surprise when he strolls into the sitting room to find MC stretched out on the couch. They were reading a book, but of course they looked up when they heard footsteps heading their direction, and now...

"I'm so sorry, MC!" Asmo exclaims. "I had no idea that you were even in here! I thought you were studying at the library, but if I'd had known you were coming home, I would have put something on so that I would be presentable and---"

"It's pretty," MC murmurs, interrupting Asmo's train of thought. In that moment, he realizes that his beloved human has their eyes directly trained on his nether regions.

That's odd, he thinks. I didn't think I had that effect on MC.

"Oh, this ol' thing?" Asmo asks, gesturing downwards. MC nods their head, failing to look up at his face.

"Would you like a closer look?"

Why am I so nervous? Millions of individuals have seen me naked before. I should be used to people's reactions.

"If you're okay with it," MC responds. Gingerly, Asmo walks over to them. MC sits up as he approaches, and when he's standing in front of them, they finally look into Asmo's eyes.

Asmo nearly falls backwards from the sheer amount of lust that suddenly surges through his body. Avatars of Sin are like lightning rods in that way; they are attracted to the energy of their sin, and the energy is attracted to them.

Usually, Asmo is able to mitigate the effects of someone's lust with his own, but he hasn't felt this much of it from another individual in a long time. And the fact that it's coming from MC of all people, one of the only beings he's ever known that has been able to resist his demonic charm...

"Can I touch it?" MC asks, forcing Asmo to focus on the present moment.

"Of course you can!" he answers, trying to hide the fact that he's starting to hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. MC gently wraps their hand around the underside and runs their thumb over the skin.

"Is there a reason why it's bumpy?" A part of Asmo is relieved by the question, because it means that he can put aside his feelings for a bit and focus on the answer.

"It's part of a defense mechanism. As you might have learned, a demon has different levels to their form. You've seen the first and second, but I'm not sure if you've witnessed anyone shift above that. Anyway, our appearance significantly changes in the third level, and things begin sprouting in all sorts of places."

"Including dicks?"

"Especially dicks. Mine sprouts stringers. They become poisonous in the fourth level."

"Like a scorpion."

"Exactly."

"Have you killed anyone with it?"

"There was a period of time where that was my weapon of choice, yes."

Why is MC staring at me like that?

"Is it safe in this state?"

"It better be, or a whole lot of people would be coming for my ass." MC's hand moves to the small of Asmo's back, and the Avatar of Lust allows them to guide him closer to them.

"May I?" they ask. Asmo can only manage a nod. He shouldn't be this nervous; he's received plenty of blow jobs before. Why is this one any different?

Perhaps it's because it's been a while since someone's been this...enthusiastic.

What Asmo is unaware of in the moment---and what he doesn't learn until after the fact---is that MC's discovered that they derive intense pleasure from sucking dick. However, once he knows that this side of MC exists...

Let's just say that he sits back and watches as his brothers fall prey to MC's wild side.

[huihuiheart]

Kinktober D24: Temptations - Choi San

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Pairing:  San x Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: San isn't the jealous type and you're not the teasing type, tonight anyways. That doesn't mean he's able to resist temptation though.

Warnings: Spitting, cursing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 1717

“Sannie baby, can you come help me for a second?”  You call him as you did the final touch ups to your makeup. Footsteps letting you know his answer before he even popped through the door intent to verbalize it at that point only the sight of you stunned him speechless. You had told him Hongjoong had taken you to find the dress you wanted for tonight and that the two of you would pick something stunning, but this… this was more than he had anticipated. 

You had emphasized your desire to Hongjoong to find something in a pretty mulberry color, just enough red to feel confident and enough purple to make San’s mind run wild. Of which it most certainly was, he already had an affinity for this color, but to see you in it only made him love it and your appearance even more. The silky material covered your boobs much like the top of a bikini, though the straps around your neck, back, and center were covered in gems.  The material of the dress picked back up around your waist and fitted around your hips and ass, showing off so much that he loved about you. It only went to about midthigh anyways, but there was a slit on the one side, showing off even more skin, the same strings of gems lined across the slit and your thigh. 

“You look stunning sweetheart, what could you possibly need help with?” He finally composes himself to ask, hands gripping your hips, though he keeps the touch delicate enough that you won’t be able to scold him about wrinkling the silk before going out.

“Putting on the necklace you got me last Christmas.” You tell him, holding out the piece of jewelry which he happily takes before turning you around to help you put it on, “Then I’ll be ready to go.” 

“Sounds good.” San kisses your temple after clasping the necklace for you, taking your hand to lead the way out. You knew San wasn’t necessarily the jealous type when it came to what you wore, in fact if anything he showed you off knowing that you were all his. Still, you found it rather shocking that you made it out of the house like that, though having anticipated you wouldn’t have due to his not being able to resist you like this. Perhaps that was the slight possessiveness in him though, wanting to show off what was his in his favorite color as if it only further claimed you. 

His hand on the small of your back as you walk around together upon your arrival, looking for the others whom you are meeting at the club. Hongjoong looks over you and winks with a small smirk when he sees the way San is so fixated on you knowing that you both had succeeded with the dress selection. The others all happily greeting you as well as Wooyoung hands you each a drink before asking if you’ll go dance with him with a small pout since no one else wants to right now. That and he knew you had a bit of a soft spot for him, so you’re taking a swig of the drink to get some courage and are nodding letting him drag you away from San and to the dance floor. San laughs a little at the sight, sitting down to watch you and Wooyoung for the moment while watching your drinks. 

Wooyoung and you were sharing the dance floor, but not truly dancing together. Which made you a little nervous, not having a lead to follow. So you took a breath and closed your eyes trying to feel the music. The effect certainly gives San a show. The man watching as your fingers trail the expanse of your neck on their way up before slowly moving back down and trailing over different parts of your body as you twisted and swayed. When your hands moved over your hips to show off even lower as your hips swayed it broke him. He couldn't stand the way this was tempting and teasing him with something that he couldn't have this very second. Especially knowing how good it would be. The fact that your teasing was unintentionally didn't help him either, it made him feel almost powerless at how effortless it was for you to have him crumbling…ready to drop to his knees for you. 

He closed his eyes trying to calm himself, but neither that or his drink helped him and so he stood abruptly. Making his way to you on the dance floor before you could even register that he had moved at all. His arm around your waist and pulling you flush to his chest before wordlessly leading you off to the bathroom. 

"Bend the fuck over before I lose it even more and rip that dress off you in this fucking club." He growls against your neck as he reaches back to turn the lock on the door. His eyes never leave your form then as he slowly starts to walk towards you giving you a chance to do as he asked. 

You blink at him trying to process what had happened along with what he was asking you to do for him. As soon as it does register though your eyes widen before you’re moving, scrambling even, to bend over the counter, wanting something to help keep you upright for whatever he had in mind. 

“And there’s my good girl.” San praises with a smug smirk as the dress pulls tighter around your curves now.  Walking over to put his hands over the curve of your ass, squeezing before landing a smack to the one cheek, more playful than anything. “ Just too pretty for me to be able to resist aren’t you?”

You mewl out an affirmation that has his expression only getting all the more mischievous as he pushes your dress up over your hips now. Cursing under his breath at the sight of the silky black long you had underneath and how you had already started to dampen the material of it. 

“Baby I haven’t even really touched you yet, is this how easy you are for me?” He teases one hand resuming its place on your ass while the other moves to have two fingers pressing against the damp spot. 

“Says the one who dragged me into this bathroom, because just looking at me had you this worked up.” You snark right back at him in return, reaching to grip at the obvious bulge in his pants. 

Your attitude earns you another spank, only this time it’s not playful as the one before. A warning more than anything. Though it gets him to be firm enough to give you what you’re really wanting from him. He moves your thong out of the way, holding it there with the thumb of the hand he has on your ass. Then he’s leaning in and out of your view in the mirror before he’s spitting on you. Two fingers come to collect it and spread it around before they’re pushing in, slowly working in and out and spreading just a little to start stretching you out. 

“Wanna work you up so bad baby, but you’re gonna have to be a good girl for me because we have to be quick here. Can you do that for me?” San is leaning over you to ask, making your body heat up even more and allowing you to feel his fingers hitting even deeper. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I can be your good girl.” You’re nodding, quick to agree to his every request already babbling a little bit and he’s only just begun.  

Though you’re nearly whining when his fingers slip out, worried it wasn’t enough. Until you feel his cock pressed against your entrance, having been so busy focused on answering him well enough to be rewarded you didn’t hear his zipper behind you. San slowly pressing in and keeping one hand firmly gripping your ass, while the other grips your hip to hold you in place. He keeps a little space between your hips and the counter, wanting the only bruises left on your form to be from him, even when he’s about to absolutely wreck you. He glides back and forth a few times just to make sure you’re stretched around him enough before he’s pulling out to the tip and slamming right back in. Picking up a quick pace of that, ensuring his cock hits as deep as possible each time. 

“You feel that baby? How deep I am in there? That’s me letting you know exactly where I’m gonna cum with each thrust. So deep it’ll be stuck in there, wonder if it’ll even drop out when we leave this bathroom.” He knows his words are a bit out there, but the way they make you clench so deliciously around him lets him know that he’s saying just what you love to hear. His cock practically abuses all your most sensitive spots as your legs quake. He smacks your ass one more time before that hand is between your legs rubbing quickly at your throbbing clit knowing you both needed to make this quick. As soon as he feels you cumming around him he lets himself go, keeping true to his word and making sure to cum right where he said, as deep as possible. He steps back to take in your disheveled state for a moment before moving to clean up, hopefully before he gets too worked up again. Though even as he helps move your clothes back where they belong you still have that dazed look in your eyes and your thighs are kind of shaky.

“I’ll tell the others we need to go baby, you were such a good girl for me and now I’m gonna get you home okay?” San assures you, kissing your forehead before doing that. You guys still had to stop two more times in what should have taken you twenty minutes to get home. Though it was due to his insatiable need and not the way he was making staying together a challenge for you. Only to find out when you got home that he wasn’t done with you yet.

If you enjoy my work please keep in mind how much time and effort goes into it and show support through comments and reblogs, or consider buying me a kofi. (Caffeine fuels the chaotic gremlin in me who creates content.)

[rippersz]

Miranda Priestly and f Reader. Reader gets in between an altercation between Miranda and Stephen. She later tells Miranda "I'll never let anyone talk to you like that again"

𝙰 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

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(Fem!Reader x Miranda Priestly) (Pining) (TW: Abusive language)

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“Oh give me a break! You don’t have to make up excuses to try and salvage my ego, Miranda!”

The minute you walked in, you knew something was wrong.

The townhouse air in the evening was usually still and quiet, but the stomping footsteps on the second floor provided a tension that made you pause in the foyer. Stephen was home, you realized. His weird manly cologne filled your lungs, nearly bringing tears to your eyes with how strong it was. Almost a year as Miranda’s assistant, spending time around her husband at least once or twice, and you still couldn’t get used to his smell. Probably because every little thing about Stephen was either utterly boring or terribly annoying. Emily said it was both, but she only expressed that when he called so frequently that Miranda told her to instantly send them to voicemail. ‘If he has something important to say, he’ll leave a message’ but every time he did, it was just a stream of complaints.

If you were in his shoes, something you didn’t think about often because why would you, then you knew you wouldn’t take her attention for granted. She gave it when she could and a loving partner would understand that, and such understanding would lead to a lack of tension, and a lack of tension would result in more of her recognition. Or that’s what you thought. Again- not that you thought about it frequently of course - cuz that would just be silly and unrealistic and strange because she was your boss and she was the most emotionally unavailable woman you knew and even though she loved her daughters, her love for her partners was different and-

“I can’t go one day without them shooting looks at me- like- like I’m some dog! Probably wondering where my keeper is!” His voice echoed upon every floor, making you wince as you slid the Book into its assigned place.

Evidently, they hadn’t heard you come in. They should have been expecting you; at least Miranda should have, but it was easy to lose track of time during the winter months. It seemed to move so quickly, with a prime example being that it was 11:20 on the dot once you got there. Miranda had to attend a small dinner party at 9, so she eventually returned home at 10:30. Not the worst timing for a Friday night, but if Stephen had been ranting from the very moment she stepped in, well then you had no doubt she was tired. Too tired to argue perhaps as you barely heard her murmured response.

“We can discuss this in the morning. It’s late.” She sounded worn. It made your heart ache as you looked up at the ceiling, momentarily debating if you should stay or leave.

“Oh yeah? Just so you can escape back into your job to try and distract yourself from the real issues? Stop acting like a child, Miranda. We’ll talk about this now like adults.” The way Stephen ‘put his foot down’ was nothing in comparison to Miranda’s method. He was too loud about it - too demanding. It wasn’t very effective, even though it did make up your mind for you.

Staying was risky, of course. You could get caught, of course. You could get fired, of course. But honestly? You didn’t trust your boss’s husband. You didn’t trust his demeanor or his drinking or any other little thing about him. And although you didn’t think he would really hurt her, the worry that planted itself in the back of your brain grew swiftly; festering like a disease as you inched yourself toward the stairs and placed your hand on the cold bannister. Worrying for your boss was not your place, but above that, worrying for Miranda Priestly was not your right. You weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours - so there was really no need to stick around. She was entirely capable of taking care of herself.

…And yet?

And yet, something in your gut told you to stay. It was quiet but present - and it murmured softly, convincing you that the second you stepped out of the door and got into the car with Roy and drove off into the night, something would happen. Something bad. Something that you could have avoided if only you were there.

So no, you couldn’t leave. Not yet. Even though Miranda was most likely prepared to tear Stephen a new one.

“I am acting like a child? Calling your wife at 9:45 PM to complain about her absence at a dinner you didn’t confirm is far more childish than me doing my job. What did you expect me to do when you called? Run out of an important business dinner to dash over and wipe your tears before drowning my embarrassment in an overpriced ‘welcome bread basket’? Don’t be absurd, Stephen. You knew I was busy.” And she proved you right - speaking in a low edgy hiss that you suspected was only reserved for her husband. Interestingly enough though, even alone in her house, arguing with this person or the other, Miranda never raised her voice.

No one else thought it was noteworthy enough to mention in quiet conversation, but you were often tempted to bring it up to Nigel. You figured it was because of her childhood - whatever that had been like - and that she vowed to keep her vocal cords safe. It was a small little detail, but when one conversed with Miranda, sometimes it seemed like the only thing to focus on. Her words are always important, yes, but watching her lips move… and seeing the way her teeth formed each syllable… well it was mesmerizing in a way you’d never be able to properly explain. And Stephen, who was pacing the floor above you, was far too daft to understand that.

“What, so if I want to have dinner with my wife, I have to confirm through her assistant? You barely pick up, Miranda!” The sudden growl in his voice had you placing one foot on the stair next to you.

‘This is just a precautionary measure’ you told yourself, knowing that was far from the truth.

“And you pick up too often.” Her quip was breathy and sharp - a clear end to the conversation as you heard her soft footsteps trailing off into another room.

“What does that even mean?! I’m trying to be a good husband, but you are ruining my reputatio-”

“Your reputation?” The venom in Miranda’s voice silenced her husband immediately. “Your reputation…,” you pictured her shaking her head before letting out a little mocking laugh; “…I have no effect on how much you succeed in your career. If you can’t separate work and life, that’s not my problem.”

Their voices were drifting away, lost to the floorplan of their home as you slowly skirted your way up the stairs. It seemed that Miranda had taken your common sense with her when she walked off, leaving Stephen (and you) to follow like lost puppies. Although, she still didn’t know you were there. And you still weren’t going to leave - not until he stopped raising his voice and waking the entire neighborhood.

“God you know- you always treat me like shit, Miranda.” You winced, knowing very well how much she hated cursing. “I am your HUSBAND. You should be speaking to me with respect - not like I’m another worthless magazine you can get rid of. I’ve given you EVERYTHING I have and what have you given me? A few hours of your time? Nothing? Just enlighten me, because I’m really at a loss right now!”

There was a bang then. It was strong and hard and it sounded like he hit something- maybe a side table or a wall- but it didn’t matter to you. He had hit something and if he could hit something- an inanimate object- he could hit his wife and if he hit his wife, he could hurt her and you couldn’t just stand there- you couldn’t just listen to his slander when his wife was giving him everything!; when she was providing and taking care of the children and doing her job all at the same time. You gulped, noticed that you had gravitated up to the second floor, and decided in a split second that if Miranda had anything to say, you’d simply come up with an excuse.

Then, as you listened for where they had gone, you heard hurried footsteps coming back toward the stairs.

“Don’t ignore me, Miranda! Stop hiding behind your job and just admit that you don’t give a fuck about us! I try so hard every day and every night and all you can do is- is- is whore yourself out to those fucking businessmen!”

The gasp that bubbled up in your throat escaped without hesitation. You had never heard anyone talk about Miranda like that - and especially not to her face. If anyone else had spoken so wickedly, you were almost certain that they’d be blacklisted from every bloody establishment in New York City, whether it had to do with fashion or not. But Stephen… well you knew that she had her own reputation to protect - and an escaping husband was not ideal.

But still…

Still…

She didn’t deserve that. And the injustice that had sparked earlier welled up like water boiling over the lip of a full pot. How dare he? How dare he speak to her like that? Your hands balled into fists at your sides; painted nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Still nothing to say? Huh?!”

A split second later, followed by the sound of Stephen’s yelling, Miranda walked around the corner.

And there your eyes met.

She looked tired at that moment… and small… and utterly incensed at the idea of you being there and witnessing that. The shock played out on her face in the span of a millisecond; with a wide blue gaze and perfect lips parted and sculpted eyebrows raised onto her forehead - which was half covered by a swooping waterfall of messy white hair. It was beyond clear that she was ready for bed and that Stephen was just prolonging her suffering, but you sent a silent prayer to the gods asking to keep your job just before her husband showed up. His hands were on his hips, his face was screwed up into a tired and angry frown, and upon seeing you- he let out a loud scoff.

“Are you kidding me?!” His yell was right in Miranda’s ear but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she was staring right at you. At you. With some sort of fury- some sort of strange deep emotion- swirling around in pearlescent eyes. You felt your knees grow weak but held your ground. If she was going to yell, let her yell. If she was going to coldly dismiss you, let her coldly dismiss you. But at the end of the day, the longer you stared, the more you knew that she knew. That she understood. In the strange telekinetic way that most women shared - the concern that compelled you to stay was reflected in her gaze. And there, in the lull of irritation and tension, was a conversation that only the two of you shared.

It was spoken softly, slowly, and through your eyes alone.

‘I stayed because I was scared for you.’

‘I know.’

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘I don’t know. This wasn’t your place.’

‘I understand. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’

‘I can handle myself.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘…I know.’

“Did you plan this? Is that why she’s here?! What- did- did you call her? To witness us fight? See I knew you were fucking crazy! From day one I told myself ‘Stephen don’t get involved with her’ and now look where I am!”

Your silent conversation was snapped in half as he ranted; all while shoving past Miranda to walk further into the hall and throw his hands up in the air like a kid. You felt your body jolt at the sight of her being pushed, but like the impenetrable wall she could be, your boss stood her ground and allowed her husband to brush past her shoulder. As if there wasn’t force in the way he walked. As if you weren’t this close to throwing a punch.

And Miranda could see it in you. She could see the irritation- the sense of injustice and everything that came with it- but she also knew you wouldn’t do anything. You were too kind. Too understanding.

Well… unless someone like Stephen said what he said next.

“You know what? No. I’m done. You listen to me right now,” and then he rounded on your boss, walking right up into her space so quickly that you couldn’t help but push yourself to get closer. And from where you stood then, you saw the way he pushed his finger into her chest and seethed with an unnecessary amount of rage.

“You listen and you learn. I have had it up to here with your bullshit. The cold shoulder, the missed dinners, the terrible schedules, the fact that you don’t even care if the twins like me or not - I’m sick of it. You treat me like an accessory. Another bag for the queen of fashion to throw out but guess what. Guess what, Miranda! I don’t care anymore. We’re separating - and you’re gonna end up like all of the other sad washed up celebrities: Pathetic and- and- weak and alone. Because no one- no one- could possibly love you like this,” and you watched with disgust as he shook his head and let out a cruel laugh. “No one could possibly look at you, with your stuck-up bitchy behavior, and see something worth loving. And-”

Before he could continue, you heard yourself speaking.

“You are absolutely pathetic.”

Two sets of eyes turned on you - one of them confused and the other severe, silently telling you to just shut your mouth. Normally, you would. Normally, you’d listen to your boss and obey her commands- silent or not- because you appreciated her authority and you were halfway in love with her. But it was for that last reason, the very reason why your ribcage felt like a zoo butterfly exhibit, that you decided not to listen. Sure, Miranda would hear your angry love-sick quips, but that didn’t matter. You were going to spill your heart out onto the floor, take a page out of your boss’s book…

…and kick Stephen’s ego into the dust.

“What did you just say?” His eyes were disbelieving as he turned to you; and though a twinge of fear dug at your heart, you pushed on.

“You heard me. You’re pathetic. Pathetic and weak and honestly? Really really embarrassing. It’s no wonder she doesn’t wanna spend time with you. Aside from being the busiest person on Earth and providing you with a roof over your head, she has kids and a job to maintain. But it’s fine- it’s fine!, because you get to complain and she doesn’t. Because you think she owes you everything, but she doesn’t. And she never did. And she never will.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so close to him, but the backwards step he took gave you enough confidence to continue. “And if you think you mean anything to her, above her children, above her passion, then you are so sorely mistaken that it’s almost funny. Because me, and so many others, have seen how much Miranda cares about those closest to her - and if she’s not making you better, then you’re clearly not worth her time. But maybe if you exercised some more respect, maybe if you showed you cared, she’d bother to call you back and she’d bother to act like your wife. But you don’t do that. So why should she show you what you don’t show her? Huh? Why should she love you when there’s other people out there- when- when there’s people like- like Nigel, like Emily, like me,” you took a deep breath, nearly choking on your words because you were talking so fast, “who would give her the world if she asked for it. Who would do anything to have her attention. So- so why should she love you when you take it for granted? When you, who gets it for free, don’t have to bend over backwards for her affection? When- when- you- you attend events with her, you have dinner with her, she calls you darling! And you take it all for GRANTED - BECAUSE YOU JUST DON’T CARE!”

Your eyes were most likely bloodshot. Your body was shaking. Your head was pounding and your heart was in your throat.

But Stephen looked shocked, having taken more steps backward toward the stairs as you approached him like a blood-thirsty lioness. And at that, watching the way his hand scrambled for the banister, you felt a strange twist of pride creep throughout your heart.

…But it wasn’t enough. You wanted him gone. So you cleared your throat, straightened your spine, and sniffed.

“That’s enough.”

Of course. Miranda cut in, her cool voice dousing your rage like a bucket of water over burning coals; dragging you back into yourself from where you had gotten lost in the clouds; reminding you that you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. That you were just an assistant. Just a young woman who had stepped out of line to try and protect a woman who didn’t really need it. And instinctively, as though you had been slapped in the face or tugged by a leash, you backpedaled until Miranda’s soft footsteps came over and her back faced you. Stephen’s expression was hidden.

“…I’ll contact Leslie in the morning,” her voice was soft… introspective… distant in a way that made you nervous. “Until then… find somewhere else to spend the night.”

And things grew very quiet.

The only sounds you heard were the bustle of the city and the individual breathing of the three of you. Everything else was silent. The rest of the house, empty without Patricia and the twins (all of which were visiting their grandparents), felt like a movie set with a hidden audience. As though, at about any minute, the credits for the end of the episode would roll and you, Miranda, and Stephen would let out sighs of relief and walk off set and go get cups of water and coffee. But even as you stood there, trying hard not to tilt to the left to watch Stephen walk downstairs and out of the house, you knew what had happened was no fun and games. No, you’d definitely be facing consequences once he was gone.

And finally, after a few more moments of prolonged silence, his footsteps were going down the stairs and into the foyer. Your eyes traced the contours of Miranda’s silk shirt, watching the way it flowed over her shoulders as she walked closer to the staircase to watch Stephen go. One minute- two minutes- and then the front door was opening and closing behind him…

…and silence fell again.

You swallowed, feeling as though you had suddenly been thrown into the center of the sun. The heat of your embarrassment was excruciating - and if Miranda turned around, she’d spot the blush on your cheeks instantaneously. But that was a strong if, because she hadn’t just yet. Nope, instead, she stood staring at the door, letting the air settle. And you weren’t going to interrupt that, so you kept your mouth shut and tried to rationalize mentally.

If she asked, you’d just tell her the truth. That the world got crueler each day and it was in your nature to worry and that no wife should ever come face to face with a furious partner - at least not without the chance to talk civilly at first. And then you’d tell her that it was okay if she wanted to fire you and that you were sorry for being so open and that if you had fucked things up, you’d do whatever you could to fix them.

…

The silence eventually became deafening. And there was an itch in your legs that was getting to you. And your hands were slowly untensing, left with an ache from the pressing of your fingernails. And the exhaustion from the long day was getting to you - so you cleared your throat and prepared yourself.

“Miranda, I’m so sor-”

“That was unnecessary.” You couldn’t hear an ounce of emotion in her tone.

And all you could do was nod and look down at your feet.

“I- I know. I know. But I just… I just couldn’t leave, Miranda.”

“You couldn’t or you didn’t want to?”

Well that was a brilliant question. One you wished you could answer without crying. One you wished you could answer without feeling like a complete loser.

“…Both, I guess.” You settled on the best option you could think of and began shaking your head when the only response you got was a low hum of acknowledgment.

And Miranda still hadn’t moved. She was probably compartmentalizing - or disappearing into her fashionable mind palace - all while you stood there looking at her like she had just smacked your ice cream onto the floor.

Well… if there was one thing you knew, it was that the tension-filled silence couldn’t continue. She could either fire you quickly or make it slow and painful, but either way you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Look, I’m sorry. I am. I know it was out of line and it was too much and I should’ve just kept my mouth shut but I promise I did it with good intentions. And I promise I wouldn’t have stayed if I wasn’t worried and I wouldn’t have said anything if I weren’t genuinely upset. And… and I don’t know if you want to fire me because of that, but if you’re gonna do it - please just get it over with. I know I’m a good assistant, I- I know I’ve learned quickly and I’m sorry that I just completely ruined that right now but if you somehow just gave me another chance, I wouldn’t make another mistake. I promise. And I wouldn’t- I- I-,” you stumbled over your words, feeling the intense pounding of your heart press up against your chest, like it was begging to bounce onto the floor and tumble down the stairs. And the feeling felt so sickening that you had to take a deep breath and shake your head and push down the angry, anxious, terrified tears that yearned to spill into your eyes. “And I- I’ll- I’ll never let anyone talk to you like that again… I promise.”

Your voice was frail. The fire from earlier was gone - as though it had never existed at all. And Miranda still just stood there, with her phone in one hand and her face turned away from you…. Like you weren’t good enough to see her. Like you didn’t deserve to know what she was thinki-”

“You talk too much.” It was the only thing she said before she turned around and walked right past you - faster than lightning.

And you blinked just in time, turning on your heel and staring after her.

“Wh-what? That’s it?” You called. No firing? No scolding?

The room she was heading into looked like a study - but that swiftly became unimportant when she paused at the door and turned to you.

Her face, lit up by the hall light, looked tired in the same way it was earlier. But her eyes… well there was something in them that you couldn’t place. It looked like amusement… and something softer. Something- dare you say- grateful. But it was probably just a trick of the light - and you were probably just hallucinating because of your own exhaustion - and she was most likely just itching to get her duty done and go to bed.

And you suspected that was the case until she took a second to look you up and down in that way that she did- with her blue eyes searching and her gaze laser-sharp- and eventually, eventually, she made it back up to your face. Her expression was blank.

“…On Monday morning, tell Emily that the clothing department has a new opening. Then tell everybody else.” There was a pause. “…And be prepared to start interviews on Tuesday.”

And the last you saw of her then- of the sweet poison you called Miranda Priestly- was the statuesque shape of her body’s side profile as she softly closed the study door.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Thank you for the request, anon! I understand this isn't terribly fluffy, but I wanted to make it as realistic as I could. I hope you enjoyed! - Ripley

(P.S. DWP is my favorite movie!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 13/04/2024

Locked In The Underground

Season 4 Episode 2 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume C

Ripped by Jamangar

Whaaat? More Undertale?? Say it ain't so!!

Look, I lamented it a bit over on Logan Paul's Shop, and its something you can even see for yourself by viewing the Undertale tag on the blog archive. In terms of games to have been featured on the blog one way or another, Undertale/Deltarune are leagues ahead of the competition. And I am torn on this, still. Like on the one hand, I want the blog to cast a wide net of rips, to not just cover my personal favorites, but to cover as much of SiIvaGunner's history and growth. But on the other hand...Undertale IS a huge part of that history and growth, it has been since the very beginning, and as I discussed in Your Best Nightmario and Shiny Smily TALE the game's very DNA and themes is just a perfect fit for everything that SiIvaGunner stands for. Well, there's that - and there's how rippers like Jamangar just keep absolutely outdoing themselves with how much leverage they can get from this 9-year old game's soundscape. Its rips like Locked In The Underground that remind me of WHY Undertale rips are so prevalent on here.

If you've been reading for a while or just kept up with SiIvaGunner in general to the degree I have (or are from the team!! hi team!!), you may well recognize Jamangar's name. Much like ShonicTH with Trial of the Heart and many others on the channel, Jamangar has carved out her own very specific niche in terms of what she contributes with. That niche is the same one you'll hear in World Out There and Story of Undertale: There are few SiIvaGunner contributors who have as much expertise in ripping Undertale as Jamangar. Yet all of these three rips feel quite different from one another - Story of Undertale is a magnificent journey throughout just about the entire Undertale campaign with instruments changing along the way, wheras World Out There was an incredibly resonant mashup/melodyswap, a full-on shot of nostalgia on all the senses. Indeed, Locked In The Underground follows their footsteps in quality, yet is excellent in a subtly different way - its just a flat-out banger.

I don't know what it is about Bruno Mars' music that makes it work so incredibly well in mashups. Perhaps I have BotanicSage to thank, with Pokemon GSC Is What I Like and 16BIT Magic both permanently etched into my soul ever since I first heard them - but Locked In The Underground takes on the very same challenge, and in my eyes passes with absolutely flying colors. I mean, it only takes a few seconds for the rip to sell you - as soon as you hear Mars' "oh-yeah-yeahs" followed by Undertale SFX playing to the beat, you KNOW Jamangar's made far more than a mere mashup here. It helps, of course, that CORE is already one of the most stand-out songs in the game, much like Colress' battle theme was to Pokémon Black & White's soundtrack in Light! (Potentialseeker Colress) - its hard NOT to get excited seeing a CORE rip knowing just how distinct of a sound any take on the track will have, due to the pure quality of the track underneath.

So much is done to have Locked In The Underground truly fit together. The melodyswap is fantastic on its own, having CORE's lead instrument play in tune with Mars' vocals yet rising high in volume to the song's chorus, and CORE's synthetic backing paired with the drums of Locked Out Of Heaven create such a unique soundscape to boot. But beyond that, there are tons of little flourishes - small segments where CORE's original melody peeks through in the backing, Undertale sound effects sprinkled in to censor expletives or punctuate key moments of the song...like Semi-Charmed All Star, you get the impression that Jamangar GETS both of the songs used, that she's "studied" how Locked Out Of Heaven works in order to have the mashup work so perfectly.

Really - Locked In The Underground is the kind of rip that just feels like a shoe-in for the blog, as one of the most popular rips made during 2020. Funny enough, beyond the obvious combination of Locked Out Of Heaven and Undertale, you could even read the rip's title itself to be referencing the feeling all of us had during the pandemic - sort of reframing its pleas and shouts, in a way. But then Locked In The Underground also isn't the kind of rip where I'm desperate to know more about its possible lore and inner workings: I know Bruno Mars, I know Undertale, I know Jamangar, and she made one of the season's cleanest bangers by doing what she does best. That's awesome.

[noelle666]

Tiny fanfic with no title

Heinrix van Calox/Noelle von Valancius Place and time: Lord Captains quarters, right after the "ice scene"

"Together. We're together. That is all I need".

Heinrix was holding his beloved Lord Captain in his arms: his body started to slowly warm up, the scent of her hair helped him to calm down. Noelle raised her gaze and looked into psyker's eyes:

"Heinrix, I know you wil probably tell me there is no need to call for healers because you are strong and capable of taking care of yourself, but please, let me take care of you. You will stay with me tonight".

"I am your eternal servant, - Heinrix smiled faintly, - And will do all what is needed".

In several minutes ex-interrogator was standing under warm streams of water; he leaned back against grey and white marble wall of a shower cabin [1] and looked through the glass door: he saw a blurry silhouette of Noelle, she was doing something and then she rushed out of bedroom, probably to the entrance of her quarters. Even though the distance was not that short and the door's glass was translucent, the man noticed her moves were twitchy, filled with a degree of panic. He continued to look through the glass, waiting; it took less than a minute when Noelle appeared in a room again holding somethink which looked like a tray and something was standing on it. Heinrix exited the cabin, he wiped water off his body and covered himself in a towel.

For several years Noelle was a part of an Ecclesiarchy missionary group: they traveled through two large hive-worlds, visited many communities of loyal Emperor servants, rich and poor, those who are in need and those who bathe in wealth. Most of a time her role was to help sick and dying people, she was skilled in medical science and could comfort with kind words and empathy. Priestess knew how to treat hypothermia but was not sure if her methods could work on psyker who almost turned into an ice statue because of his powers. Still, she couldn't just stand and do nothing. Noelle heard footsteps behind her back while she was conjuring over a beverage she believed could helped her beloved at least a little bit.

"Please, take sit on a bed, it'll take only a moment. It is almost ready, I think..."

The last words were spoken quietly and meditatively, Noelle froze next to a table with a slightly raised hand as if she was calculating something in her mind. Heinrix came closer and smelled a citrus scent; he sat on the edge of the bed and observed what was on a tray: a cup with a spoon, steam was swirling above it, next to it a small bowl filled with sugar cubes and the last one was a little fancy saucer with several pieces of a fruit (Heinrix did not know what it was but remembered he saw short trees on Janus covered with the same fruits, but they were smaller and greener - probably still in a process of growth). The woman took a spoon with her thin elegant fingers, a light sound of it hitting porcelain cup made to think about little bells ringing. Noelle took a cup and gave in to Heinrix.

"What is this?"

"Solian tea. [2] Never thought I could ever drink it again, at least not in the closest future. But it seems Mistress Vyatt and I had something in common. It may sound odd to you but I don't really like recaf. I used to drink the most simple and cheap tea but to me it was the best of all drinks".

"I heard Solian one is a very expensive drink and pretty rare".

"Yes, I foung out they grow it on Janus on limited plantations and only for nobles. Sadly, I don't know about its homeland".

Heinrix took a sip: the drink had rich taste, a little bit or bitterness mixed with sweetness of sugar and notes of sour fruit. Differs from recaf he used to drink, but he couldn't say it was bad, maybe not very stimulating but this effect was not needed under present circumstanses. The tea was warm, psyker drank in one gulp as if it was a medicine and returned a cup to Noelle.

"I am sorry if it looks like a torture to you, - Noelle chuckled and put an empty cup on a tray, although her face expression had no notes of fun, - I hope it helps. Tea and lemons or other citruses usually are the best cures for someone who needs to be warmed up. They say these fruits are very rich with vitamins, but I completely forgot their name. Hm, what was it..."

Heinrix noticed that yet again Noelle's movements become twitchy - she was nervous and trying to cover it with a small talk. The man reached out to priestess' hand and pulled her closer, he embraced her and looked at her. Noelle wanted to avert her eyes, but then she looked at Heinrix and touched his cheek: he looked as usual "him" and no one could've ever guessed that about half an hour ago this man could've been dead. Heinrix started to gently caress his beloved's back, he noticed the tip of her nose turned pink, her lips started to tremble and eyes were about to be filled with tears; he put his head to Noelle's chest and she squeezed him in her arms just the way she did when psyker was about to be swallowed by warp's powers.

The man closed his eyes, he was listening to priestess' heartbeat - it was faster than it should be, her heart was like a little bird caged against its will, trying to break free, so passionate and scared. The same heartbeat helped him to see the real world again and not to dive into dark abyss. And her trembling voice, her words:

"Wake up... please".

Heinrix saw Noelle crying for the first time when they shared a dinner together. That evening had to be a merely sweet date for two of them, but one word after another, and her heart cracked. They both knew their bond is more than spending time together whether it is a game of regicide or more intimate moments but no one ever said the most important words because their road sooner or later supposed to be split in two. You cannot build happiness if you are not fully honest. Heinrix could not lose the one and only who gave him this ablsolute happiness and he did what he was avoiding the whole time (not because of cowardness but because he didn't want to hurt Noelle). He opened his heart and told her about his love which was burning in his chest for some time, he dropped the shackles of silence, and the scales have tipped towards his desires and feelings. And yet there was "duty".. That night Heinrix promissed his beloved he will never hurt her, he will never make her cry again. But he failed. His heart sank when he saw frozen tears on Noelle's cheeks, yet he gathered all his will and strenght to remain calm - this is what she needed since she gave all her powers to save her beloved. She needed peace because it is all over, otherwise she could've been broken into many pieces.

Noelle was combing Heinrix's hair with her fingers, slowly she managed to put all her feelings together. Heinrix looked at her and gently kissed, he smiled as if he said to her that there is nothing to be feared of, no need to worry.

Psyker fell asleep as soon as his head touched a pillow: in one moment his eyes closed and he was swallowed by deep slumber, the moment after he opened his eyes, and it was already morning. Noelle, on the other hand, couldn't really sleep: she was awaking almost every hour to check if everything is alright with her beloved, whether he is breathing or if he is tortured by nightmares. Only closer to morning her restless heart and mind fully calmed down.

"He is with me. I am with him. Where the road will lead us matters not, for nothing can tear us apart anymore".

[1] - Noelle asked to install a shower cabin to her bathroom since she is a humble person and sees no need in huge pool of water.

[2] - Solian tea - an expensive variety of tea. Was mentioned in "Eisenhorn. Xenos" novel. Unfortunately, there are no other detailes.

[smolalienbee]

Makeshift Saints and Sacred Sinners

Chapter 1: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

good omens // aziraphale/crowley // a human AU set in the 90s with punk!Crowley // rated M // chapter 1/10 His entire life, Aziraphale's been taught that what’s different is wrong. Sinful. He’s supposed to fit into the mould carefully crafted by his family and the society at large - pray regularly, attend university, marry young, buy a little house and have two children. And then, he meets Crowley.

read full chapter on AO3 here!

There’s something holy in the silence and the stillness of an empty church.

Aziraphale walks down the aisle, his footsteps echoing underneath elaborate wall paintings and tall stained glass windows. It’s pretty. Everything is lined with gold; the artworks depict biblical scenes that Aziraphale is all too well familiar with. He could spend hours here just marvelling at the craft that went into designing this place, its architecture… perhaps another time.

For now, as he walks, each step measured, he keeps his gaze directed upwards - towards God, of course. As he approaches the confessional, he murmurs a silent apology for encroaching upon this holy ground. He knows that, technically, he isn’t barred from entry or even prayer in a church such as this one, but it still feels… wrong, somewhat.

He hopes he’s welcome regardless.

With a deep inhale, he steps inside the booth. He has never been in one before, he realises just then - it’s smaller than he’s imagined it to be and the wooden bench is, frankly, rather uncomfortable. Well, perhaps it’s all part of repentance.

Once he’s seated, Aziraphale is silent. He stares ahead at the purple fabric separating him from the rest of the church. He tries to gather his thoughts - he’s not entirely sure how to go about this, a confession. Should he merely pray, the way he usually does? Or would it be more appropriate to speak, the way Catholics do it?

“Take your time, my child.”

A small yelp escapes Aziraphale at the sound of a gravelly voice speaking in the other part of the confessional. He composes himself quickly, huffing at being so rudely brought out of his thoughts.

“Right. Hi. Hello!” he says, attempting a smile. He glances at the latticed opening that separates the two sections, but there’s fabric hanging on the other side of the booth, effectively hiding the other person from view. “I apologise, I suppose I must’ve… forgotten… this part.”

“This part?” the priest asks, confused.

“Well, as it happens, I’ve never done this with an… intermediary,” Aziraphale admits, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “In fact, I’d really appreciate it if you could leave. Thank you!”

There’s a moment of silence. Not even a rustle.

“My… role is actually quite traditional. It’d be best if I stayed.”

“Yes, yes, I know, that’s how your people do it, of course, but I’d really like to have a chat with God. On my own, that is. Alone.” There is an intake of breath on the other side, but Aziraphale continues before the priest can speak. “I’ll tell him you said hi! Now, shoo.”

That does the trick, at last. Aziraphale hears the man stand up. “I wish you well, child,” he says simply and steps out of the booth.

The moment he’s alone, Aziraphale breathes out. He hadn’t even realised how tense he’s gotten - gosh, it must be nerve-wracking to always have to do this with someone listening. Well, besides God, that is. God always listens. Aziraphale is acutely aware of the fact.

With another deep inhale, he folds his hands and then, he prays.

Having finished his prayers, Aziraphale feels much lighter. He’s always found prayer to be cleansing - not necessarily cleansing of sin, but of anxieties, of anything weighing him down. The entire process, to him, is meditative - even more so here, in the calmness of solitude, away from the prying eyes (and ears) of his family and the surrounding community.

It’s all rather lovely.

He takes a step outside of the booth. He lets out a long breath. He folds his hands on top of his stomach and smiles to himself, a man renewed, tipping his head back to appreciate the surrounding architecture in a new, stress-free light.

That is, until a whistle draws his attention.

“Oi!”

Aziraphale turns his head, searching for the source of the voice. That’s when he sees… him.

The first thing that really sticks out is his hair - tall, bright red spikes, shining with the amount of gel that must’ve been put into them to hold them in such an unusual shape.

Then, there’s the rest of him - just as obnoxious and intimidating. The piercings covering his face, several of them in his ears, by his brows, nose, and even the one in his bottom lip; the eyeliner smudged across his eyes; the tattoos, such as the snake winding around itself by his ear; and, of course, his clothes. He’s dressed in all black, with just subtle flashes of red all throughout - ripped black jeans, a black t-shirt with some band logo and then, to top it all off, a black leather jacket studded all over with long, sharp spikes. He’s even wearing sunglasses. In a church!

He’s a punk. Aziraphale has never met a punk before.

read full chapter on AO3 here!

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Xmas PARK CARNIVAL | Chapter 10

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Cast

Sakuya - Snowray

Masumi - Sage

Tenma - Candle

Muku - Bell

Banri - Rudolph

Tasuku - Greet

Guy - Cane

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Bell: “In this small town… all of the residents love Christmas.”

Bell: “Christmas is almost here. Everyone is excited and can’t wait for it to come.”

Rudolph: “Hey, Snowray. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Snowray: “I don’t want to hear it.”

Bell: “Those two are Rudolph and Snowray. They’re two of the young men who live in this town.”

Bell: “Rudolph loves Christmas, but Snowray hates Christmas…”

Bell: “They’re usually good friends, but when it comes to Christmas, they always end up fighting.”

Bell: “Snowray hates it when Rudolph tries to get him to understand the joy of Christmas.”

Bell: “Rudolph is struggling… he doesn’t know how to convey to him the joy of spending Christmas with someone else or the warm feelings that come with it.”

Bell: “This is the story of a boy who hates Christmas and a boy who loves Christmas…”

Snowray: “Another Christmas story? Will you just knock it off already, I’m getting really sick of this…!”

Rudolph: “Wait, Snowray…!”

*Footsteps*

Rudolph: “…Ugh, he’s gone.”

Rudolph: “How can I get him to understand just how wonderful Christmas is…?”

Greet: “You still haven’t explained why you’re trying, Rudolph.”

Candle: “Everyone else in this town loves Christmas, he’s just different.”

Candle: “Nothing anyone says ever has any effect on him, so we all just gave up on him a long time ago.”

Rudolph: “But I can’t just give up on him. …Hey guys, please, I need your wisdom.”

Rudolph: “Just because something didn’t resonate with him in the past doesn’t mean it won’t resonate with him now, y’know?”

Greet: “A way to get him to like Christmas… Hmm, I’ve got something.”

Greet: “How about you put up a tree in his room?”

Rudolph: “Right, decorating a tree does raise the Christmas spirit. Even just one ornament can get you more excited.”

Candle: “Some classic homemade Christmas foods might not be a bad idea either.”

Rudolph: “Oh yeah, that sounds great! I love Christmas food.”

Candle: “Same here. There’s so many different kinds, there’s bound to be one that even he would like.”

Rudolph: “For sure!”

Rudolph: “Alright, let’s keep this up and go all around town asking the others for ideas on how to get him to like Christmas!”

Izumi: (And so, Rudolph decides to go around town to inquire further…)

Bell: “How to get someone to like Christmas? How about sending them a Christmas card?”

Bell: “I love sending and receiving Christmas cards.”

Rudolph: “Got it, that makes sense, I like writing and receiving cards too~.”

Bell: “Right, right, you can even be creative and make a pop-up card or draw your own illustration on the card.”

Cane: “I think an advent calendar could be a good idea, too.”

Rudolph: “Ah~, yeah! You get a little bit of excitement every day with one.”

Cane: “Exactly, and they’re not just for children, but adults as well.”

Cane: “And you can’t forget about the lights either.”

Bell: “It is nice to see the lights all around the city, isn’t it?”

Rudolph: “It is beautiful and pretty awe-inspiring seeing them put up everywhere.”

Rudolph: “Thanks, you two! All of your ideas were really helpful.”

Rudolph: “With this many different ideas gathered, maybe I can finally get Snowray to like it…!”

Izumi: (With a note of ideas in hand, Rudolph is filled with all kinds of anticipation.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (Rudolph then puts all of the ideas he got from the town’s residents into practice for Snowray to see.)

Rudolph: “Snowray, look! I put up a Christmas tree.”

Snowray: “Don’t just go doing whatever you want…!”

Rudolph: “It’s just a small tree, and it won’t get in the way over here. Plus it’s got all these ornaments on it. They’re pretty, aren’t they?”

Snowray: “...Ugh. Whatever, it’s well done, I guess.”

Rudolph: “And then here’s an advent calendar! You get to open one of the little windows each day until Christmas.”

Rudolph: “What are you going to get? It’s so much F-U-N ♪”

Snowray: “What the hell is that?”

Rudolph: “It’s a Christmas card from me to you, Snowray! I drew the illustration myself.”

Snowray: “...? A drawing of a cat?”

Rudolph: “It should be a reindeer, no matter how you look at it!”

Snowray: “Heh, this? A reindeer?”

Izumi: (For a moment, Snowray subtly smiles at all of the things Rudolph has shown him, much to Rudolph's pleasure.)

Rudolph: “I also made a home-cooked meal! It’s all Christmas classics. I think it turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.”

Snowray: “Is that so…”

Izumi: (However, Snowray’s smile quickly fades, as if he’s trying to avoid being swept away by Rudolph.)

Rudolph: “The Christmas lights are really pretty too, and I have some recommendations for places to go to see them! Maybe we should try and go to one of them.”

Snowray: “No, I…”

Rudolph: “They’re so colorful and sparkly. I bet you’d love them, Snowray.”

Snowray: “I’m not going.”

Rudolph: “Don’t be like that. Christmas is really fun!”

Snowray: “...Tch, I told you no!”

Rudolph: “!”

Snowray: “Don’t force people to do things they say they don’t like…! Just go!”

*Door slams*

Rudolph: “Snowray!”

Izumi: (Unfortunately, Snowray drives Rudolph away and withdraws into his own home.)

Rudolph: “Haah… I made Snowray mad.”

Rudolph: “He’s not wrong, I did do a lot of things without asking him first… I was kind of intrusive…”

Rudolph: “I’m sorry… Snowray…”

Izumi: (As Rudolph is feeling remorseful and sad, he is suddenly approached by one of the town’s residents.)

Sage: “Rudolph? What’s wrong?”

Rudolph: “...I …wanted Snowray to like Christmas, so I got too pushy and did a whole bunch of things… and it just ended up making him mad.”

Sage: “Oh, you guys have been disagreeing about that for a while now…”

Sage: “Hey, Rudolph, why do you even want him to like Christmas in the first place?”

Rudolph: “Well--...”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sage: “...I see. How about you tell that all to him?”

Rudolph: “Huh…”

Rudolph: “I see… I’ve never even told Snowray any of this. But it’s the most important thing I need to tell him now.”

Sage: “Exactly. I’m sure Snowray will open up to you if you just explain that to him properly.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Knock on door and door opens*

Snowray: “...”

Rudolph: “Snowray… I’m sorry I’ve been so pushy.”

Rudolph: “I-- I want to spend Christmas ‘with you’. With my best friend in the entire town, you.”

Snowray: “Huh…”

Rudolph: “Now that I think about it, I’ve always just thought up ideas for how to get you to like Christmas. I’ve never just properly asked you like this.”

Rudolph: “Haha, pretty careless of me, huh…”

Snowray: “...I …hate Christmas.”

Snowray: “For a long time, I didn’t understand the warmth of Christmas. That’s because I’d never spent it with someone else.”

Snowray: “...Because I don’t know the warmth of spending it with someone else.”

Snowray: “Christmas Day was just so empty for me, even though everyone around me seemed to be happy.”

Snowray: “I kept thinking that, and then I got more and more stubborn about it and felt like I couldn’t back down… so I was convinced that I shouldn’t like it.”

Rudolph: “Snowray… that’s okay. It’s okay for you to like it.”

Rudolph: “Besides, I’ll never let you feel empty like that.”

Rudolph: “I told you, I want to spend Christmas ‘with you’.”

Rudolph: “Let’s spend this Christmas and all the ones yet to come together. Let’s make a promise to spend them together.”

Snowray: “Rudolph…”

Snowray: “If I’m being honest when you approached me with all those different things, I knew that somewhere deep down, I was having fun.”

Snowray: “That’s why… I want to spend Christmas with you too, Rudolph.”

Rudolph: “I’m glad, Snowray. Let’s enjoy Christmas together!”

*Applause*

Banri: Thank you very much!

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’m glad we actually got to get the chocolate drinks.

Banri: Same. …It’s startin’ to snow a bit.

Sakuya: It is…

Sakuya: Anyway, I never thought they’d have a Christmas party set up for us after the park closed.

Banri: Sasaki-san was all excited about it. They even went outta their way to keep the park’s shops open.

Sakuya: I hope Tenma-kun and the others were able to get the food they wanted to get.

Banri: Muku went along with Tenma to make sure he didn’t get lost, so I’m sure they were able to get what they wanted.

Banri: In exchange for that, we got Muku the chocolate drink he wanted.

Sakuya: Yeah! Haah, the chocolate smells so good.

Banri: I bet it’s real sweet.

Sakuya: Ahaha, well, it is chocolate, after all. I’m sure Muku-kun will be really happy. I can’t wait to drink mine either.

*Wind blows*

Sakuya: …Waahwah…! The wind…!

Banri: Hang on a sec, Sakuya. Your scarf’s about to come off, lemme fix it.

Banri: …How’s that? Ain’t too tight, right?

Sakuya: It’s good, thanks! You were really helpful there.

Banri: No problem.

Sakuya: Thank you for all your help with the play this time, too, Banri-kun.

Banri: Right back at ya.

Banri: Plus it was fun talkin’ about the play with ya, Sakuya.

Sakuya: I had a lot of fun too! Let’s keep talking about performances and other things too.

Banri: Yeah.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[kermantha-is-horny]

A Story of New Teeth

(This was a commission requested by @applebess77. He was a pleasure to work with! The names of all the characters have been changed for privacy reasons, but other than that, it's unedited. If you would like a commission, please dm me @arinthehunter and we can start business. Please enjoy! ~Kermantha)

His heart pumped loudly, echoing across the entirety of the church, as he held the flask within his hand.

Well, he at least assumed that’s what was happening. It made much more sense that the blood in his ears was so loud that his heartbeat was all he could hear. But to Valius, it was only logical that every soul within that church could hear his anxieties, and knew exactly what he was plotting.

Liquid swirled and bubbled within its glass prison, licking every wall as if hungry to taste the world outside the clear barrier. Through it, Valius could see the reflection of his own eyes, and he looked deep into them, contemplating the consequences of his actions. Was this course of action truly something he desired of himself? And what would the people he cared about think of him?

Despite knowing in his heart that those deemed monstrous were well loved within this community, he was truly afraid that somehow, he could compromise his relationships with this small act of selfishness. But… He had to know. He simply had to.

He uncorked the vial, watching as the orange color reacted to the air, almost glowing. His heart pumping even faster, he didn’t deem himself to have enough time to hesitate. In one fell swoop, he tilted the vial up and swallowed everything it contained.

Despite it being a fairly warm day, and the sweat from his nervous hands staining the glass with a blurry sheen, the liquid inside was almost ice cold, coating his entire throat with a chilly film. The taste was not terrible, but not quite pleasant, though he couldn’t for the life of him put a finger on what it tasted like. The smell was that of tangerines, and his nose was filled with the scent despite the contents being firmly rooted in his throat.

The deed was done. He took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. The hard part was done. Now, all that was left was to wait a few minutes for the magic to take effect.

A sound! Against the wall of blood and anxieties pounding against his ears, he heard movement! He made a small squeal of surprise and hid inside a nearby cramped closet, waiting for whoever it was to pass by.

Covering his mouth to mask his own breathing, Valius listened intently to the footsteps from the hall beyond. He could hear the distinctive click of high heels. Closing his eyes, Valius went through his mental library of different high heel sounds, trying to lock on exactly who they belonged to. But as it turned out, he would not have to.

A few paces away from the closet door, he heard the walking stop, shortly followed by a deep, guttural sigh. A sudden yell came from the figure, causing Valius to flinch. “LUCY! Why is there a stain on the floor here?”

Valius’ grasp on his own mouth grew tighter. Out of all the people in the church, why did it have to be Bellerosa? Not that he didn’t love her, of course. He wouldn’t have married her had he not. But she was the most aggressive and testy of all his wives, and he was afraid of what she would say about his decision.

As Bellerosa schooled the maid for failing to remove the stain, Valius felt a deep itch settle into his arms. He attempted to resist the urge to uncover his mouth and scratch, but the itching was simply too distracting, and he gave in to temptation. Scratching his arms, he exhaled a soft sigh of relief. But as much as he scratched, the itching never went away.

Over time, he realized that the skin he was itching was beginning to develop hair, growing at a highly accelerated rate. He took a pause in his itching to feel his arms, silently crooning as his fur reacted positively to his own touch, pressing against pleasure receptors he didn’t even know he had. Beginning to scratch again, he accidentally cut himself, causing him to inhale sharply in pain. Running his hands over his fingers, he realized that he now had claws jutting out from his fingernails.

The servant outside hastily left, presumably to grab cleaning supplies, but from the sound of it, Bellerosa had remained. Valius could not figure out for what reason, but it certainly did nothing for his anxieties. Almost as if to spite him, his transformation began to put itself into overdrive.

His legs changed posture, loudly cracking into place, now in a more canine position. From his tailbone, new bones grew from the stump, stretching his skin and growing more when it ripped. Muscles grew around the brand new bones, and fur stuck itself out from the pores, causing the new part of his body to itch.

Then his chest began to move, the fat along his breasts beginning to expand, until they settled onto his body like heavy, soft balloons. Curiously, he cupped his breast, finding it to be sensitive, quickly letting go.

Next, his skull began to move, his bones elongating, his mouth pushing forward. His teeth grew out into sharp points, and his nose grew into his snout. As his face elongated, the tip of his nose pressed against the door of the closet, and he nervously looked straight up as to avoid bumping the door.

Finally, his ears shrunk in on themselves, the cartilage folding away and blocking his eardrums, his eardrums becoming sealed. He suddenly found himself in complete silence, and his anxiety could no longer take it. Though he could no longer hear himself, he shut his eyes tight and screamed, going until he ran out of breath, catching it, and screaming once again.

While his new ears started forming on his head, Bellerosa swung open the door wide open. Writhing within the cramped closet was some sort of hyena girl, with fur covering her entire body. She was screaming her head off, and her ears were slowly growing out of her head. She was wearing… Priest gear?

Bellerosa narrowed her eyes. Surely, this could not be Valius? Slowly, she stepped forward and touched the creature’s arm softly. Almost immediately, the hyena girl stopped screaming, and opened her eyes, gazing at Bellerosa in a panic. After a few silent moments, she reached into her pockets, and placed a parcel in Bellerosa’s palm. A bar of chocolate.

After staring at Valius in stunned silence, she noticed a glass vial on the floor, and started putting two and two together. She had half a mind to yell at Valius for taking a transforming potion without telling anyone, but right here and right now was not the correct place or time. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Valius by the arm and dragged her across the hall and up the stairs, leading her into Bellerosa’s bedchambers. She locked the door, and set Valius down on the bed, waiting for her ears to grow.

Valius, meanwhile, was still sitting in complete silence, confused. Why wasn’t Bellerosa mad at her? Well, she did have a bit of a pissy face, but she almost always wore that sort of face. At this point it was almost her trademark. But she didn’t look openly hostile, which she found odd. Valius would have thought that Bellerosa would be furious beyond belief, given that she took a transformative potion without consulting anyone first.

As her ears slowly began to work, Valius gestured awkwardly at the chocolate she had given Bellerosa. She knew Belle had a weakness for the stuff, and would be slightly easier to talk to if she had something in her belly first.

For the first time in a few days, Belle smiled a little. Even in such an awkward situation, Valius was thinking of others first. She broke off a square, and set it on her tongue, letting it melt in her mouth. She visibly relaxed, smiling slightly wider. Raspberry filling… Definitely one of her favorite flavors.

She carefully rewrapped the rest of the chocolate, saving it for later. “Thank y-” She began to say, but paused, as she noticed Valius wincing, and covering her ears. She cleared her throat and tried again, whispering, “Thank you, Valius. You didn’t need to do that for me.”

Smiling meekly, Valius whispered back, “Nonsense. Family comes first, don’t it, love?”

Chuckling softly, Bellerosa responded, “Oh, hush, you. Always so lovey-dovey.” After a moment’s pause, she reached out and touched Valius’ arm, caressing the new fur where there once was flesh. “Why?”

Valius sighed, lying her head on Bellerosa’s lap. “Well… I… Well, I suppose it is a little silly, innit? Well, ah… I sort of noticed that, y’know… Out of all of us, I was the only human, and I felt, I don’t know… like the odd one out?”

It was now Belle’s turn to sigh. “Please don’t tell me you assumed that we all thought less of you because you’re human. Most of us were human to begin with, and if you really think any of us care about that kind of thing, then you truly do have rocks for brains.”

Flailing her arms in denial, Valius stammered, “Oh, no, of course not! You got it all twisted, Rosa, I swear to you! On the contrary, really! I just, well… How do I put this? I… Felt a little… Left out, I suppose?” She blushed, smiling a tiny bit.

A smirk made its way onto Bellerosa’s face, and she relaxed a bit on the bed, petting Valius’ head softly. “Oh? Left out, you say?” In reaction to Valius’ shy nod, she pressed further. “Please, lovebug, elaborate. I don’t believe I fully understand what you mean.”

Blushing even deeper, Valius would look like a tomato if not for the fur covering her face. “W-well, um… Haha, that is quite the question, really… A rather difficult one at that… I don’t know if I can really explain my reasoning in a coherent way…”

Belle’s finger made its way underneath Valius’ chin, scritching it softly, while a tentacle of lavender slime seeped out of her pores and began massaging her back. “Try.”

Valius moaned quietly in pleasure, but quickly caught herself, clearing her throat loudly as if to hide her various obvious noise. However, it was hard not to notice her leg thumping away in pleasure. “Um, yes, well… I suppose… Oh, don’t make me say it… I… have always found myself attracted to more… monstrous… qualities, and I have been looking myself in the mirror lately, and… Well… Wishing I had similar qualities with my own body. So, when I was at the market today, and saw a wandering trader with potions…”

Lifting Valius onto her lap, holding her close, Bellerosa looked at her seriously, directly in the eyes. “Then you should have said something to us, love! I understand if you didn’t want to consult me about it, given my… Well, my reputation. But I’m sure Mary would have listened to you. I get it was a heat of the moment decision, but we could have helped you through it! Made your experience with transformation more comfortable than, oh, I don’t know, a fucking cramped closet reeking of mildew! Speaking of, I should get Victoria to clean that up ASAP… But that’s not the point!

“The point is you should not, under ANY circumstances, be afraid to speak with us. You said it before. We’re family. Not a family you were thrust upon you, but a family you chose. We will always be by your side, through thick and thin. I do hope you weren’t afraid to speak with us about this.”

Valius looked away, ashamed of herself. She truly was a fool. She doubted Bellerosa could look her in the eye aga-

Her self-destructive thoughts were nipped in the bud by a deep kiss, a warm kiss, followed by a tight embrace. Almost melting, a stray tear fell from Valius’ eye as she kissed Belle back, moaning in pleasure. Meanwhile, Belle took the opportunity to explore every new part of her wife’s mouth, mapping the contents as if it were a deserted island, looking for any treasure she might find

After a few moments of tongue-wrestling, Belle broke away, giggling. “You have new teeth, sweetheart. I like them.” She slid her hands down Valius’ back, exploring her mid back and tail.

Moaning even more now, Valius leaned in, breathing softly into Bellerosa’s ear. Almost subdued, she whispered, “Please…”

The smirk Belle wore widened. “Please what, darling?”

Eyes suddenly going wide, Valius stammered, “Oh, um, I, haha, uh, I didn’t think I said that out loud, haha! Um, please, forget I said anythi-”

A finger pressed against her lips, and Belle leaned Valius back, looking deep into her eyes. “Please what?”

Lost in her eyes, Valius somehow lost all sort of anxiety in her speech. “Please take me tonight…”

Four tentacles sprouted from Bellerosa’s back, and lifted Valius into the air, gingerly taking her clothes off. “As you wish, honey~” As she suspended her wife into the air, she walked slow circles around her, dragging her hand along random spots along her beloved’s body, trying to discern the sensitive points.

Even with such teasing actions, Valius already had her tongue lolling out, lost in the pleasure of her new touch receptors, moaning a storm. A touch here, a shudder there… She could understand why so many people loved monsters. Such attention was simply intoxicating.

Once all her clothing had been removed, a tentacle slipped into her mouth. Without a second thought, she wrapped her tongue around it. The flavor was almost like lavender, and it was warm, if not a bit slimy. But she didn’t really mind the texture. She could hear Belle’s quietly moan under her, and she wasn’t about to let her wife down.

Opening her throat, she let the tentacle deep inside, tears welling in her eyes as she tried not to choke. In response to such a courageous act, she received a kiss to her left breast. “Good girl~”

In immediate response, Valius’ tail began to wag, clipping a tentacle at first. “Oh, such an eager girl! Such a cutie pie…” Lowering her slightly, Belle began supping on Valius’ breast, massaging the other one with one hand, and slowly stroking her shaft with the other.

Valius had never felt so spoiled in her entire life! She openly moaned around the tentacle, applying more suction, not wanting to slack at her job just because of the pleasure.

Suddenly, another tentacle entered her backdoor, going about halfway in. Belle had considered starting off slow, but as she considered it, she remembered that Valius was no stranger to being pegged, so there was no reason to hold back now. If anything, that would be babying her for no reason, and that would simply be disrespectful.

Sure enough, Valius was loving this, trying her best to force herself into the tentacle. At this point, she could get lost in the pleasure.

Unfortunately, new pleasure receptors meant lower pleasure threshold, and Valius was just set to burst. Noticing the buckling of her knees, Belle increased the tempo slightly, coaxing her partner, until she burst, painting the bed sheets white. Belle made a note to clean them later.

She let Valius down onto the ground slowly, giving her a few moments to recover. Stretching, she was prepared to call it a night and snuggle with her wife, when suddenly, Valius lunged in and began to eat her pussy.

Gasping in pleasure and surprise, she looked down to see Valius smiling from between her legs, comfortably kneeling on her knees. Chuckling, Belle stroked Valius’ hair. “Just what are you doing, darling?”

Taking a small break, Valius smiled shyly. “You didn’t get to cum…” Without wasting any more words, she went back to business, suckling on her clit.

Moaning sharply, Belle replied, “Oh, you really didn’t need to help, honest! I have hands and tentacles for a reason…” But even if it seemed as though she was resisting her hand was still firmly on Valius’ head, pushing her ever forward.

Eventually, soft head patting turned to rough head rubbing and even further into hair grasping and pulling, as Belle got closer and closer to climax. Suddenly, a finger slipped into her ass, and she gasped sharply, cumming on the spot.

Once Valius had licked up all the mess, she was hastily grabbed by tentacles and forced into Bellerosa’s cuddly embrace. “You cheeky fuck! How dare you use my weakness against me?”

Chuckling, Valius settled into Belle’s breasts, smiling. “Well, you know what they say… All is fair in love and war…”

Giggling, Belle responded, “Still going to ask Mary to give you the ribbed strap.”

Closing her eyes, Valius whispered, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[ipromiseimlying-blog1]

Excerpt from my fic: "The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun" (on ao3)

Dean musters up the courage and finally opens his mouth, “What would it be like?”

Dean internally cringes at how choked up his voice sounds, but he asks it anyway because he’s a piece of shit who likes to have his cake and taste it without eating it at all. He’s a coward, but he’s a coward who wishes he wasn’t.

“What would what be like?” Cas asks. 

“You and me.”

Cas takes a second to respond, and Dean scrubs at the casserole dish with his sponge like he’s not waiting for world-shattering news. 

“It would be good.” Cas finally says, voice confident and scared at the same time. “It would be right.”

“How so?” Dean asks. 

The sound of Cas’s footsteps tell Dean that the angel is waking over, but slowly. So slowly like he’s worried he’ll startle Dean into running away. They come to a halt just behind where Dean’s washing the dishes, elbows in the suds, fingers pruned from the water. He can feel the few feet of space between them like a physical ache. 

“It wouldn’t be any different,” Cas says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, to love. “Than how we are right now. Nothing would change.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean whispers, his voice weak. 

“It means…” Cas starts. “I’d be there for you when you wake up, and I’d be there for you during your nightmares, making sure that none dare to haunt you. We’ll go on hunts whenever you want and take care of them together. We’ll watch movies in your room or in the Dean Cave.” Dean hears the twitch in Cas’s lips as they turn to a small smile. “Maybe even go for long walks on the beach.”

Dean snorts, but it comes out choked. He doesn’t know what to say so he scrubs the casserole dish. 

“If nothing changed physically between us, I’d be content. But I’d love to kiss you when you asked me to, make love to you when you ask for it, and–-” Cas’s voice drops, but Dean knows it’s not for effect, it’s just the way the words leave Cas’s mouth that make them darker. “Fuck you when you need me to.”

Dean inhales sharply, and continues washing the dish he’s holding. “That’s a lot, Cas.”

He hears a soft shifting of clothing, likely a shrug, something human that Cas has picked up from Dean. “I used to try not to… fantasize about things that could never happen, but I’ve realized it might be a lot closer than I think, and I’d like to be prepared.”

“Buddy, it’s not–”

“Is it?” Cas says, and there’s two more step falls and then he’s pressed along Dean’s back, not hard, just there. One of Cas’s hands grips the counter with–-what Dean thinks–-is enough force to dent it, but his other hand is gentle against Dean’s hip. 

Dean’s hands stutter over the dish, and he almost drops it. “It’s not happening man. I–It can’t.”

Cas hums, and Dean feels his breath ghost over his neck, feels the sound reverberate in Cas’s chest against his back. “Tell me to stop then.” 

Stop, Dean thinks. Don’t stop. Never stop touching me. I can’t take it when you leave.

“Cas–” His hands shake, and he puts the dish down in the sink so he won’t break it. The glass clatters against the metal of the sink bottom and Dean raises his eyes to the ceiling. “We can’t.”

“Give me a reason.” 

“It wouldn’t work. We drive each other crazy, and I can’t–you can’t leave. I can’t take it when you do.”

“Then I won’t leave.”

Dean wants to laugh. He feels six years old again, begging their dad to stay a little longer with them while Sammy’s sick, because Dean gets grossed out when he has to clean up his brother’s puke.

It’s time to grow up, Dean. John had said. You know why I need to go. Pick up the slack while I’m gone.

He feels like his twenty-two year old self, seeing Sam’s Stanford acceptance letter, knowing there’s nothing he can do to make him stay. Watching John grow red, to blue, to purple in the face, screaming and yelling at Sammy. You walk out that door there, don’t bother coming back.

At the time, Dean didn’t know if he was gonna see Sam again, so he drove his kid brother to the bus station. Sam had always been the soft one, talking back and not following John’s orders, and Dean sat there in silence as Sam pretended he wasn’t tearing up. 

Dean had watched his little brother walk away, seeing the duffle bag filled with clothes and weapons and books that looked too heavy for him to carry. Sammy! Dean yelled. 

Sam had turned, his eyes rimmed with red. 

Dean charged him and wrapped him in a bear hug. Watch out for yourself, bitch.

Sam choked out a laugh, holding on tight, hands balled into fists against Dean’s back, holding him there like he didn’t know if he’d ever get a hug like this again. Jerk. 

Dean’s always had people leave him, and he’s always let them go. 

“You say that, Cas, but you’re always leaving.” Dean chokes. Cas is warm where he’s pressed against Dean’s back, and Dean can’t help himself as he leans into the feeling.

Cas’s thumb rubs against Dean’s hip, at the denim and flannel wrapped around his body. “You’ve never asked me to stay before.”

“I wanted to–” Dean rushes out like word vomit, like the truth he’s been meaning to say for years. “I should’ve.” 

“Ask me then.” 

“No, you asshole.”

“I’m not leaving, Dean, so long as you want me here.”

“I–”

But then Cas kisses his shoulder, and Dean’s whole body is lit on fire by the simple press of skin to the cotton of his flanneled shoulder. 

“So the first problem is negated, I won’t leave. Problem solved.” Cas continues their conversation like he never interrupted it by kissing Dean’s shoulder in the first place. In fact, Dean doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed on his shoulder before. Before he can shove that thought away, his brain wraps its arms around the feeling of Cas behind him, his lips pressing to Dean’s clothed skin, and files it away for safekeeping. “What are the other reasons?” 

Dean knows there are more reasons, but goddamn he can’t think of any. Cas is warm against his back, and Cas’s chin rests on Dean’s shoulder, right over where he kissed it. 

“Uhm,” Dean’s brain helpfully supplies. It’s too busy cradling it’s new favorite memory close to his chest. “You’re a guy.” 

“Hmm. How much of a problem is that?”

Not very much, Dean’s dick supplies. Dean tells his dick to shut up. 

“It’s a problem.” Is what he says instead. 

Cas doesn’t miss a beat though. “I could be in a female vessel if you prefer, although I’ve grown so fond of this one. It feels more like my body than anything else has.”

And that breaks Dean’s heart because Cas has lived through millennia, seen continents move and civilizations come and go, but this body, the one that Dean stabbed when they first met, is the one that Cas feels at home in. 

“No.” Dean interjects. “I don’t want you to have a different vessel.”

Cas presses his lips to Dean’s shoulder again, not a kiss though, this time, Dean feels Cas’s lips spread into a shy smile. “So how much of a problem is it, then?”

“It’s–it’s not.”

Cas hums, and the hand resting against Dean’s hip skates upward and under Dean’s shirt, just touching the warm skin there, like Cas is stealing whatever he can get away with. “Alright, so what else?”

Dean’s brain grasps at straws. He had a list. Where the hell is it?

“We drive each other crazy.” Dean blurts out. “And you listen to shitty music.”

“Ah, right. You did mention that we drive each other crazy.” Cas murmurs, and he leans forward so that his lips whisper against Dean’s ear, and goosebumps spread along Dean’s skin. “Think about how that would translate into sex, then.”

Dean swallows. 

“As for the music.” Cas continues. “I think I can come up with ways to make it up to you.”

And then Cas fucking kisses his neck, right below Dean’s ear, on his pulse point like a bullseye. Like maybe Cas was scouting that spot out for a while. Like maybe Cas fantasized about doing exactly that. Like maybe Dean kinda wanted him to do it too, because Dean’s lit up from head to toe like a fucking teenager from one little kiss on the neck from his best friend. 

Dean audibly gasps, and he feels Cas smile against his neck. Cas’s hand presses more firmly against Dean’s ribs, the very ribs Cas rebuilt and then carved sigils into. 

“Don’t think that I didn’t notice–” Cas says huskily. “That not one of your reasons was that you don’t return my feelings.” 

Cas’s hand leaves his skin, and there’s a shocking wash of cold, as if somebody’s dumped an ice bucket on his back once Cas steps away from him and walks out of the kitchen. 

Dean stands there for five whole minutes, his heart racing and breathing hard until he calms down enough to close his eyes and relax. He picks up the casserole dish and finishes washing it. 

[x-fantasy-is-my-reality-x]

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 2: Halloween Headache

It was almost that time of the year again, Jason thought as he eyeballed the calendar on the table. He had never cared about holidays until he came along.

Right on cue, Michael trudged in from the back door, dragging mud all over his freshly mopped floors. Jason let out a huff, gesturing angrily at his partner who barely spared him a second glance. Michael was always 'moody', especially around Halloween. Jason wasn't exactly sure why the holiday had such an effect on the Haddonfield slasher, and Michael himself wasn't certain why either. But neither of them cared enough to stew over it.

His mood swings got worse around that fateful day, and Jason had to constantly watch his back to make sure the smaller man wouldn't jump him with a knife to the shoulder or rip off his clothes. Personally, he preferred the latter. But this year, he had a peace offering. Jason smiled giddily under the mask, feeling the weight of the candy hidden beneath his old, bulging jacket.

He knew Michael had a massive sweet tooth, despite his efforts to conceal it. Any desserts that Jason made or stole would immediately disappear before he even had a chance to taste it. Personally, Jason didn't care much for sweets, so it made no difference to him if Michael decided to hog it all. Unfortunately, most trespassers knew better than to carry aromatic foods into the forest, lest they wanted to attract unwanted attention from bears or worse.

Clearly, the hikers yesterday were not so smart, bringing an entire bag of candy into the woods to stuff their faces. Jason had found and dispatched them in an instant, claiming his prize and doing his best to hide it from his lover. Luckily, Michael didn't seem to suspect anything, too caught up on his yearly Halloween bloodlust to pay much attention to Jason.

Jason grinned, sneaking over to their shared bedroom where Michael was already hard at work staring out of the window. Michael didn't react to Jason's heavy footsteps, and it wasn't until he heard the unfamiliar sound of crinkling plastic did he finally turn around.

Jason pulled the bag out of his jacket, showing it off proudly to Michael. Hidden by the pale, white mask, Michael's eyes widened in shock. How long has it been? Over a decade at least since he's last tasted Halloween candy. It was the night he'd killed his sister, Judith. The food at Smith's Grove was bland and repetitive, and there was never the luxury of anything sweet or even food that tasted remotely edible.

But Jason didn't know that. If he had, he probably wouldn't have presented Michael with the whole bag at once. It seemed to trigger something in the Boogeyman; Jason had never seen him move so fast.

Michael lunged, startling a surprised grunt out of the normally mute killer, grabbing the bag and speeding out of the room. A door slammed in the distance, the distinct click of a lock loud in the empty house. Jason stood rooted at the spot, frozen in confusion for a few seconds before a thought hit him.

Was he going to eat the whole bag at once?

Even Michael wouldn't be able to stomach that much candy at once, he was going to get a massive stomachache, Jason worried.

Quickly, he found Michael in the spare room, but the door was locked. The sound of movement slipped through the cracks at the bottom, and Jason pounded a heavy fist against it. Something was thrown against the wall in a clear indication of 'go away'.

Jason exhaled loudly, knocking again, only to be ignored. Michael wouldn't budge, he was too busy tearing into the bag, damn the consequences! No way would he let Jason take it away.

After about ten minutes of fruitless knocking, Jason finally gave up, sliding against the wall as he sat down next to the door.

Eventually, Jason dozed off, leaving Michael to scarf down the candy in peace. It must have been hours later until Jason awakened. The sky was dark, blanketing the small cabin in a soothing darkness. It was quiet, too quiet. Jason perked up, ears straining for any sound behind the locked door.

A soft groan caught his attention and he immediately broke the lock on the door, resigning himself to fix it later. Jason burst through, halting as he saw the figure of his unmasked lover curled up on the sheets, candy wrappers strewn on the floor and bed. There were still a few pieces left, but the rest of it was gone. A loud gurgle echoed through the room, coming from Michael's stomach, Jason realized.

Shakily, Michael reached for a wrapped chocolate and Jason had to hold back from face-palming as he watched. He grabbed Michael's wrist, pulling him away from the candy.

Michael shot him a venomous glare, growling loudly and jerking weakly in his grasp. Jason tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at the smaller male as if saying, "Really?"

Even with a stomachache he was still trying to eat. He moved the candy away from him, sending Michael into a thrashing fit. A knee was suddenly thrust into Jason's ribs, briefly winding him enough for Michael to break free and make a wild dive for the candy.

Lunging forward, Jason grabbed his ankle and pulled him back, promptly collapsing him onto his stomach and locking his arms around his chest.

Michael let out a grunt as all of the air was expelled from his lungs, the sound muffled by the duvet pressing into his face.

He went deathly still for a moment and promptly threw up all over the bed and rug, letting out a few raspy coughs as he finally finished expelling all the colorful fluids. Jason could do nothing except gently pat his back through the violent heaving, hoping that it wouldn't stain the already deteriorating floors.

It reminded him of that year when he caught his counselors watching The Exorcist, and back then he had covered his eyes as the girl projectile vomited everywhere on screen. Except this time he had a front-row seat.

This Halloween was certainly shaping up to be an unusual one, Jason thought as he moved Michael's head away from the puddle of foul-smelling, partially digested candy on the corner of the bed. It seemed like all the fight had fled from him along with the contents of his stomach.

He tried scooping Michael up to take him to the showers but being a stubborn bastard he refused, pushing Jason away and rolling onto his side with an irritated growl.

He fell asleep almost immediately, and Jason didn't have the heart to wake him. A small smile worked its way onto his face as he watched the rhythmic rising and falling of Michael's chest, dark lashes fluttering lightly every now and then. Carefully, Jason lowered himself next to his sleeping lover, heart swelling with unbridled affection. Slowly, he too was lulled to sleep, dreaming about sharp blue eyes and dark brown hair.

Michael may be a shithead, especially around Halloween, but he was Jason's shithead, and no one would be able to take him away from him.

[ladylooch]

17 - Lio & Lucie

A/N: Since a few of us miss these babes... here is a lil angst for our sweet babes.

17. 

The number rings in Lucie’s head as she washes out her coffee cup in the kitchen sink. Connor and Lio are both asleep still, but she’s been wide awake since 6:00am, thinking the same thing: 17. The number of women Connor has slept with.

She wishes she didn’t ask. 

She also realizes she should have asked that earlier. Before they ever did anything to begin with, but instead it came up in a game of Buzzed in which the prompt was drink if you’ve had more than 10 partners. Lucie’s throat closed up when she saw her boyfriend tip his beer bottle back. Lio did too, but that was significantly less surprising. Connor had looked over at Lucie, chuckling.

“What is your number?” She asks, trying to act like she is chill about this.

“17, not including you. Rookie year was… interesting.” He is a bit sheepish, rubbing his fingers along her arm. Lucie had widened her eyes and laughed it off. Connor breathed a little easier seeing her do so.

But now, Lucie is nauseous, thinking of Con with so many different women. She can count her partners on three fingers, including him.

Swishing footsteps sound behind her, she glances over her shoulder, seeing Lio coming out shirtless. He scratches at his bare chest, squinting against the light coming in.

“How long you been up?” He murmurs, beginning to prepare the espresso machine. 

“Awhile.”

“Yeah, I know. You woke me up.”

“Sorry.” I shrug, setting my cup next to the machine for him to make me another one.

“I swear Connor could sleep through a concert in your room.” He shakes his head. Lucie quietly leans with her butt against the counter, lost in her thoughts again. Lio hip checks her gently. “Stop thinking about it.” Lucie looks at her cousin. “I know you, LuLu.”

“Did you know that?”

“Yeah, I thought you did too. But then I saw your face last night and it was clear you didn’t.”

“I guess I should have asked.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“I mean, no. But…” Lucie shakes her head. For once in her life, she doesn’t want to talk to Lio about something. This realization makes her retreat within even more. She hugs herself, tugging at the ends of her sweatshirt to enclose her hands in the sleeves.

“Con follows you around like a lovesick puppy. I wouldn’t worry about anyone before you. He never talks about anything but you either. It’s actually super annoying. Kid needs a hobby.” 

Although Lio’s words help, it doesn’t stop Lucie’s racing thoughts. Nothing does. Not Connor’s sweet, sexy kiss when he wakes up. Not brunch with him and Lio or when they fall asleep cuddling together on the couch for an afternoon snooze. The thoughts follow her into the evening when she is getting ready to go to bed with Connor. He watches Lucie brush her teeth next to him in the bathroom.

“Lu, are you okay?” He asks as he puts his toothbrush back in place. She nods continuing to brush her teeth while avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t believe her. Connor waits for her to be done before he speaks again. “I can make it better?” He reaches for her hips, bringing her into his body.

“I don’t want to.” She pulls a little harshly away from his grasp. A flash of hurt contorts Connor’s face. Lucie grabs her moisturizer out of the drawer then meticulously applies it to her skin. 

“Did I do something?” He asks.

17 things, Lucie thinks to herself, but gives him no response.

“I would rather you tell me than us do this.” He says, annoyance filling his tone. Lucie bites her bottom lip. She feels so small and immature, but she can’t change how much last night effected her. The silence in the bathroom is heavy. It fills Lucie’s lungs until breathing becomes laborious. She tediously closes the lid on her moisturizer, then lowers it back into it’s home. 

“I’m having a hard time with how many people you have had sex with.” She stares down at the counter while she talks. “I know you had a whole life before me and… I have no right to be upset, but I am.”

“Baby, I’m sorry you’re hurt. But I also can’t change anything about my past.”

“No, I know that.” She nods. She reaches out for his hand, lacing their fingers together. She raises her eyes to his in the mirror. Connor is sad; Lucie can see it in his eyes. “You have so much more experience than me. You must think what we do is so boring and.. vanilla.”

“Luc.” Connor snorts incredulously. “I don’t think that at all. I also don’t need to do anything crazy with you. I love being with you. And everything we do that is new for you is exciting. Because I’m the one who is doing it with you. I feel so connected to you afterwards. Like, ‘wow she really trusts me’. That’s sexier than anything I did rookie year.”

Lucie steps forward, digging herself into his chest. Connor holds her there, arms crossing over each other to keep her tight to him. His mouth presses into her hair. He inhales her sweet scent, resisting the urge to grab her ass. He wants to throw her over his shoulder and worship her body until the only thing she feels is pleasure. Because of him.

“I love you.” Connor tells her instead. He yearns for her to understand how his heart beats in his chest only for her.

“I love you too.” Lucie responds.

“Forever.” He reminds her. Lucie nods, closing her eyes. She focuses in on his heartbeat and warm skin.

Lucie wishes his words were enough to erase the ache in her body. But it’s not. It’s also not his fault, or hers. 

Some things just take a little longer to work through.

[welcometoteyvat]

Xiao stops by Qingce Village from time to time on his nightly patrols, for the restless spirit of the old chi is not easily quietened. He can feel it sometimes—a sickening heat in the air, agitated whispers in the earth beneath his feet, an oppressive heaviness gathering around the edges of his vision. When the thrumming of violence starts ringing louder and louder in his ears—here, here, come here—he must chase it to its source, slay it, devour it whole—

Xiao inhales sharply. He forces the karmic binds to subside.

Qingce is a quiet little place, and it does not deserve to be tainted by an old god’s hatred.

Tonight, it is peaceful. Crickets chirp in the terraced fields, accompanied by the murmur of water from the slowly turning mill. A half-moon hangs in the sky, bathing the terraced fields in its soft, blue-white glow. Everything is as it should be. And yet…

It feels different— strangely lighter, almost, but Xiao knows that is impossible. It must be something else.

There’s a disturbance by one of the small houses near the outskirts of the village—the chi’s doing? Xiao teleports into a tree on the hill leading down to the fields, makes sure that he is hidden, and listens. There’s a muffled thump from inside the house, and he makes out the movement of shadowy figures against the light of a lantern.

“A-yun? Chongyun, can you hear us?”

“He’s passed out.”

Someone sighs. “His yang energy… what are we going to do, Zitian?” Wait. His… yang energy? Is that why—

“We can discuss that in the morning. Let him rest for now; I’ll get some water for him to drink when he wakes.”

Scuffling noises, and then footsteps growing fainter. A small figure is settled into the bed by the window. It is apparent that nothing dangerous is present—no spirits, no chi—but Xiao is distracted by something else. Because it is unmistakable now; he does feel lighter—freer. The constricting heaviness that weighs on him has lifted, as though a thousand years of karmic debt have been wiped cleanly away. In its place is the gentle night breeze, summer’s touch on the bare patch of skin on his back, the faint fragrance of qingxin in the air.

(He could, perhaps, grow used to this impossible feeling.)

He looks back at the house. There is a blue-haired boy lying in the bed, cheeks slightly flushed, his otherwise pale face illuminated by the soft white moonlight. One skinny leg sticks out from underneath a light blanket as he sleeps, dreamlessly.

So, this is the mortal whose overflowing yang energy must have temporarily rid Xiao of his karmic debt. He looks incredibly unassuming. Xiao cannot remember another human with such an imbalance of yang, even after many centuries of serving Liyue. The condition is rare, and his involvements with mortals rarer still—he may never have met the few other bearers of this peculiar gift. It is impressive, he supposes, that someone so young could have such an effect on curses so old. It is also unlikely, he knows, that he will ever see this boy again. That would be best for both of them; even a unique constitution is far from enough to withstand the nature of Xiao’s karma, and for Xiao, this brief respite has already been enough.

If it is fated, they will meet again.

He slips away before the moon is halfway across the star-speckled sky.

---

author's notes time! a) I have a headcanon that chongyun's family owns some kind of small house in Qingce that's convenient when they're on long trips. b) Zitian is a random name I chose for Chongyun's dad—there's no deeper meaning, I just thought it sounded nice. the 2 ppl talking are Chongyun's parents. c) this scenario wouldn't happen in my head actually LOL. I think if cy were to take a trip out when he's young, he would get sent with an older cousin or two, his parents would probably stay in their mt tianheng residence (wherever it is). idt you need a full set of parents to just bring a kid to tag along on some spirit exorcising d) rather unsatisfied with this ngl but it took me 1 week and I want to be Done with it so here you go. e) probably made up some lore in this take things with a grain of salt f) the most important thing to know about me is that i fucking love writing descriptions and inner monologues and I hate coming up with plot

ok thanks for reading !! <3

also on ao3

[handsome-edvard]

Well, I did finally look into my WIP folders and the Don Judy fic I started in freaking 2022 was sitting there waiting for me like 👁️👄👁️ ma’am why would you leave me here for so long.

So here’s chapter one UNEDITED and ROUGH but finally freeeee (idk if I’ll finish this fic tbh).

~~~

Love Came With All That It Brings

The sky looks different where they’ve stopped for a break, a soft iridescent blue, fading into a gradient of lavender and pink which makes the alien moons more prominent where they seem to hang. To Don, they look as though they’ll tear through the atmosphere at any moment and fall on their heads. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen today, a thought which birthes a sardonic smile on his face.

The sound of footsteps approaching tear his attention away from the unsettlingly beautiful sky. Judy sidles up to him but she does not meet his gaze.

“How’s he holding up?” Don asks, a part of him still reeling from Evan’s accident earlier.

If Judy is also shaken, her face betrays nothing. “He’s stable,” she answers. “I didn’t want to scare him but I don’t think he’ll walk again.” She draws a shaky breath and it rattles past her lips. “I really thought I could save him.”

“You did,” Don says. “He wouldn’t be alive right now if it wasn’t for you. Hey—” Finally, Judy’s eyes are his, and Don can see that this whole thing is a lot for her. Sure, she kept her cool with someone’s life on the line, like a real doctor, but the pressure must have been immense. Evan is her third patient, ever. “You did great, Dr. Robinson.”

The title seems to have the intended effect and Don sees a small, grateful smile settle on her lips. Victor Dhar may not see her as a doctor yet, but after today, Don would rather be with Judy in the event of a medical emergency. He can even get past her ‘anger issues’, though to her credit, she placed his nose cleanly back into place. A precise fix for a precise break.

“We should get him back,” Judy says. “I can treat him further and his brother will want to know what happened.”

Don agrees and inclines his head for Judy to follow him back to the Chariot. Evan is asleep for most of the ride back, yet Judy hardly leaves his side, diligently checking his vitals every so often. When bumps on the road jostle the patient awake, Don hears Judy speak softly to Evan, comforting him by distracting him from the pain and the heaviness of his fate.

It seems five degrees warmer out once they reach camp. Don helps transport Evan to a supply tent that officially becomes their new medic bay. He clears out a few pieces of heavy equipment to give Judy more space to work. Aiko is there to help setup the medical supplies and once there isn’t much left for him to do, Don figures it’s best if he keeps out of the way. Yet he finds himself lingering hesitantly at the entrance of the tent. It feels like he should stay but that is foolish, as he can’t actually help with any of this stuff.

“Don?” Judy calls, breaking his idleness. “We need to tell Evan’s brother and I need to find my mom.”

The look she gives him is clear enough. It’s partly why he hasn’t left the tent yet. Smith is out there still and Don isn’t quite confident Judy should be dealing with the dangerous fraudster with everything that’s happened to Evan. Another part of him wants to deal with Smith himself.

“I’ll handle it,” Don says. “Comm me if anything.”

Judy acknowledges him with a nod and Don departs. He finds Evan’s brother after practically going in circles all around camp, but of Maureen and Smith, there is no sign. By the time hunger prompts him to give up, it’s dark out. Most people have retreated to tents, vehicles, or the odd Jupiter. Don forages for rations and heads back to the medic bay. Something tells him the doctor hasn’t left her patient. He finds Judy almost exactly where he left her.

“Didn’t find your mom and there’s no sign of Smith either,” Don declares to make himself known. “I think your folks might be on a little excursion of their own. We’re down a Chariot.”

“Alright. Evan’s doing okay,” Judy replies, her eyes glued on the vitals. “I told his brother I’ll need to keep him here a few more days, until he fully stabilizes.”

“Did you tell him about the…?”

Judy turns to look at Don. She nods somewhat sadly. “I told Evan too. He said he can still surf with prosthetics.”

Don huffs somewhat mirthlessly. “Well think fast,” he says, and tosses Judy the food ration. “Have that before you end up being your own patient.”

“Thanks.” Judy walks past Don, sitting on the crates just outside the tent. The way her head turns slightly toward him is an open invitation, so he takes the spot beside her with an exaggerated groan. “You know, you saved Evan too today. Thank you for doing that.”

Don tears into the food ration and takes a bite of the sandwich which is mostly synthetic food. The moment Judy refers to is not lost on him. In fact, this whole day and the one before have been rollercoasters. It did not take him long to accept he has more in common with the Robinson than perhaps either one of them could see.

“I know I said some things about your smuggling,” Judy goes on after a minute, and Don partly wishes she hadn’t continued with that. “I still disapprove of it and of your… deal, but… I also think you’re a good man.”

He can’t help the laugh that surfaces. It’s not forced but he can’t explain it either. There is nothing funny here but it still flows, before ending abruptly. “You don’t know anything abou me, Judy.”

“Maybe,” she answers. “But I know no one else would have moved that tanker if you hadn’t. I also know you’re a big cry baby.”

Don turns to meet her eye. She is smiling, he can see it, and a part him thinks that even though she disapproves of what he stands for, they can still be friends. So he smiles too. She knows a lot more about him than most people in this large camp of survivors, which is just as well, seeing as it wouldn’t do for so many people to be able to get him to throw away a perfectly reasonable business deal, lose fuel, yet save a life.

Somehow, only Judy can do that and he’s not quite sure what to make of this realization he most certainly does not wish to have.

“That mean we’re friends again?” Don says.

“I guess we can skip to that part.”

Her teasing smiles forces him to break eye contact and happily finish his food. His chest feels warm and it’s nice. He tells himself it’s because he hasn’t actually got any friends, though John Robinson may be a contender.

“Well, if you want the real Don West saga,” he nearly bellows, “I suppose I could spare a few hours to indulge you. It all begins with the nuns at my primary school…”

When he looks, Judy is smiling, and that makes Don proud of himself.

Chapter 2 and 3

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 12 - “can you hear me?”

Kaleidoscope is Link from four swords, and Light is the Link from four swords adventures (with manga influence). They both used the four sword, but the aftereffects were (and are) a bit different for the both of them, and sometimes act up a little.

Courage of ages explanation

————————————————————

“Kal?”

Kaleidoscope didn’t reply, merely continuing to hold his head between his knees. Or watched himself hold his head between his knees? Was he— who was having trouble...? was he even the one having a meltdown? Which color was it?

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t help.

He’d felt fine only a bit ago, traveling with the others through woods in someone’s time. He wasn’t even sure what had set it off; one minute he’d been fine and then the next his eyes were trying to focus through four pairs instead of one, sending his head spinning.

He’d managed to shake it off enough to get to where they had planned to take a lunch break, but the walk there was awful, feet tripping as they tried to account for six more, almost crashing into trees when his brain thought he was walking next to himself.

Kaleidoscope had slipped away the moment they stopped to try and pull himself together, but the effects had only gotten worse.

And were continuing to do so.

Someone’s footsteps sounded next to him (his own? Was it Green, or maybe Blue’s? Violet’s?) and someone sat next to him on the log, presumably whoever it was who’d spoken a minute ago.

“Kal? Link, hey can you hear me?”

That wasn’t his voice, it must be someone else. It was... Light. That was Light. It wasn’t Link— Kal, no, Green, he was—

What color was he again?

He let out a little whimper, and he heard Light lean closer.

“Kal, are you okay? Should I get Hibiscus?”

He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell where all the parts of him were, he swore Green had been right next to him because he was Violet but— no, he wasn’t Violet, Red had tripped earlier, but— Blue, he was Blue and he thought he should— or was— where—

He breathed in a short breath.

“...T-touch?” he whispered.

He heard Light shift from next to him.

“Touch? What do you...” Light shuffled around a bit, then cautiously put his hand on Kaleidoscope’s shoulder. “...Like this? Is this what you need?“

He hated asking, but he knew he needed it to slot back together and his head was spinning it was already helping he didn’t want it at all—

He made a small affirmative noise, and after a moment or two, felt arms carefully wrap around him. Light’s grip felt a little awkward, but Red—Kaleidoscope leaned into it, his shoulders slowly lowering as the tension leaked out of them. Something about the weight of someone else’s touch helped ground him, and his mind and body began to unscramble themselves.

That’s right, he— he wasn’t one color, he was all his colors. He wasn’t split, he was one person, shattered then glued back together. One body. One Link.

Right?

His shoulders lowered a bit more, and Light’s grip shifted.

“Are you... um, okay?” he asked. Kaleidoscope gave a small nod. “What was wrong anyways?”

Kaleidoscope took a deep breath and opened his eyes, pleased when he looked out of only one set. He didn’t feel like he was viewing himself from a different angle or anything either. Seemed the effects had mostly passed.

He cleared his throat. He’d only explained this to one other person before, hopefully he could get it to make sense. Not that he really wanted to, but he owed an explanation to Light for helping him at least.

“Sometimes it... isn’t right,” he said haltingly. “Things don’t— it’s like I’m still... in four bodies. Things get... mixed.”

Light’s own colorful eyes glinted with sudden understanding.

“I know the feeling,” he said quietly, and Kaleidoscope started a bit.

“I forgot...” he murmured, looking up and meeting Light’s gaze from under the cover of his hood. “You went through this too.”

Light let out a little self-depreciating laugh. “Not as bad as you. Sure my emotions get a little scrambled sometimes, but I don’t usually get all...” He waved a hand. “...You know. It’s not the same.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Kaleidoscope said softly. “I’m sure you’ve had it rough.”

Light looked at him a moment in surprised silence, then nodded, going quiet. At some point he shifted, so instead of a hug his arm was more over Kaleidoscope’s shoulder instead. But he didn’t let go of him, which Kaleidoscope hated to admit was rather nice. He was feeling less messed up by the minute.

“So why does touch help?” Light asked after a little while, startling him a bit. “I mean it feels nice, but doesn’t really do much for me.”

Kaleidoscope was silent for a minute, thinking through his answer.

“It helps ground me,” he eventually replied. He ran a hand along the edge of his cape, and sighed, feeling suddenly weary. “Reminds me I’m only in one body. Zelda figured it out shortly after I returned the Four Sword, it’s the only thing that reliably works.”

He swallowed.

“I’m... sorry for bothering you.”

“What?” Light huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you didn’t bother me. I saw you were acting weird and followed you cause I thought something might’ve been wrong, and I was right. I chose to come here myself, stop being stupid.”

Kaleidoscope quirked a little smile, and Light grinned in return.

“Anyway... if you feel up to going back, Slate said he was gonna actually make something for lunch, not just leftovers,” Light prompted, and Kaleidoscope hesitated. “Are you ready?”

Kaleidoscope carefully stood up, Light’s arm still around him, and focused on himself for a minute.

His eyesight was fine, and he didn’t feel like he was out of his skin or next to himself anymore. A slight headache rested behind his eyes, but that was pretty normal after his vision was off, and when he took a slow step forwards, his foot went where he wanted it to, no hesitance.

“Yes. I’m fine now,” he said in a relieved voice, and pulled his hood off so he could feel the sun on his face. He breathed deeply, and smiled a bit. “Thank you, Light.”

“No problem. You’d do the same,” the other boy assured with a grin, and began to tug him back towards where they’d left the others. “Now c’mon, I think I smell pie and I want some before Windy the bottomless pit eats it all.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kaleidoscope teased. Light’s appetite was at least as bad as Windy’s, if not worse.

Light gasped in fake offense, and the argument and defense of who ate more between him and Windy lasted all the way back to camp.