#i write most of these for my own amusement so i don't really need support

[paimonial-rage]

Ekolu! Can I get some quick drabbles or headcannons for how Ayato, Xiao, and Venti react when a reader calls them out for doing something dumb/mean? I mean, I’m an idiot and a hothead on the best of days, but I still want to (have the confidence to) call out others.

Like, Ayato… you shouldn’t just send Thoma gross concoctions. At least ASK if he’s curious about it first.

Xiao could you maybe please hold up instead of just disappearing?! Like, at least give us a chance to say hi!

Venti… maybe performing on a rooftop surrounded by the creatures you’re allergic to is a BAD idea.

Heck, I don’t even mind if they react negatively. I love how you portray Zhongli reacting to things and I want more.

Um anon, no offense, but how are you able to speak to the very depths of my heart? I honestly adore this idea. We must have something in common because we are both hot-headed idiots. I think our archetype needs to be represented more in the genshin x reader community. No more doormats and gushy lovey-dovey relationships. We need an temperamental dumbass revolution. All them characters are morosexual anyway. uwu <3

No but seriously, I'm excited to try this out. I'll do my very best! I struggle a lot with trying to figure out how to characterize the characters properly, so honestly knowing you like my rendition of Zhongli makes me very happy!! I'm gonna get started tonight. I may throw in a few other characters too if I get the inspiration. :D

[ghouljams]

I wouldn't say I stop reading for unrealistic height things, mostly because it's just sweet and I know alot of people write what they know and the issues are marginal. The only thing that stops me reading is subkonig. You can suspend my disbelief about leaning up to kiss him instead of him bending down or being able to whisper to him. Also fun note you find you need to talk louder because of the height difference. It's like if someone talks to you put they're facing away from you it's just hard to hear.

You cannot suspend my disbelief of a man whos limited info we have points to him being dismissive, rarely showing thanks, most of his asks are demands and he lowkey negs. Just doesn't work in my brain. Think he's probably sweet and very physically affectionate but absolutely hits you with an amused 'mm sure' when you tell him you know how to change your oil or something.

Personality wise too I'll I think Konig sits with his elbows on his knees alot, I know he would do it alot when he was out in public because he knew he was not only quite intimidating but also visually obstructive. It was part of the reason I didn't realise he was so tall when we started dating lmao. It also meant he kind of man spread alot just so he could have his feet flat to the ground comfortably.

On height in the bedroom though it is kind of why I love your fae Konig, it's the sort of fully encompassing almost covered by him kind of position.

You're almost at the mercy of his manipulation just because some of the ways you can be intimate are just unsustainable on your own. Like a kind of hook position you just can't have the core strength to maintain that so he has to hold you up into him by your thighs and hips. It's also alot of holding and support solely because he can't really put all his weight onto you. But also means you get to see them biceps, triceps and forearms in all their stained sweaty veiny glory.

Kneeling for him is also a hell of a sight, you can't really do it with him standing, so sitting leaning back with long strong legs splayed out or bent high where his thighs don't really touch the seat.

Also touching, it's funny it feels a little limited in a sexy sort of way that even on top you can only sort of reach so much like his chest, thighs and waist but not his face where he has the reach to have full reign of you it's an interesting dynamic.

I rambled alot but yeah I hope this is inspiring/informative lmao

- 🧗

Good shit right here thank you. Maybe it's because I have wildly tall people in my family but I always assume the manspread + elbows on knees is just the way to sit. That's just what you do when you're sitting. Same with ducking when you come even remotely close to a door/hitting heads on low ceiling lights.

Cooking up ideas for Konig sex, I love the tactile just *moves you* that he can have. Augh.

[youngpettyqueen]

have you considered for a fic: julian being held in somebodys arms

anon I could kiss you because Julian being carried in somebody's arms is something that lives in my head rent free always and in fact there's been a scenario in my head for a hot minute and this is the perfect excuse to force myself to write it

Jadzia picks her way through some bushes, eyes on her tricorder as she continues her environmental scans. So far the planet appears to be very similar to Earth, with a comparable atmosphere, and even similar biomes. This forest they've beamed down to is very Earth-like, except that there are some much bigger trees, and several of the plants appear to be bioluminescent.

"Fascinating..." She murmurs to herself, pausing to read through the data. This atmosphere would definitely support the lives of several different humanoid species, if the Federation decided to place a colony here. Considering this planet appears uninhabited except for animals and other such creatures, she wouldn't be-

Footsteps crack somewhere nearby. Jadzia looks up. She can hear the faint murmur of voices, too far away to make out properly, but it's definitely voices. Curious, she starts to move in the direction of the conversation, focusing to try and hear what's being said.

"-ridiculous."

"-arguing is-"

She only catches a few words, but it sounds heated. Now she's really curious. She keeps moving.

"-going to see!"

"Your point?"

That second voice- that's definitely Worf. She would recognize that aggravated tone anywhere. But that first voice-

"It's embarrassing!"

Wait.

"Seriously, Commander, put me down!"

Is that...?

Jadzia comes around the trunk of one of the more massive trees, and stumbles upon a sight she's going to remember for a long, long time.

Worf and Julian both snap to look at her at the exact same time. Worf's expression doesn't change except for his eyes widening a touch, but Julian, who is sitting pretty in Worf's arms like a princess, turns bright red faster than she can blink.

Jadzia stops. Stares. Processes.

And then she grins.

"Boys," She greets, her tone saturated with amusement, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You're not," Julian says, very firmly, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than here, "Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Jadzia. Tell him I don't need to be carried like a bloody damsel in distress." He gives Worf a pointed look.

Worf ignores his look, and turns an exasperated one of his own to Jadzia. "Perhaps you could tell Doctor Bashir to stop being so stubborn, and accept help when it is offered." He suggests, which earns him an outraged look from Julian.

Jadzia bites her cheek to keep from laughing. "Hold it, gentlemen," She says, raising a hand to quiet them both, "You can't ask me to take sides when I don't have the full story. Julian," She looks at him, "What happened?"

Julian looks less than thrilled at the question. "Must I?" He asks in return.

Jadzia barely keeps her grin from growing because oh, that means this is going to be good. "You must." She smirks.

"Fine," Julian sighs, looking none-too-pleased about it, "I had a little... mishap, while I was exploring. Banged my knee up a bit. And Worf here decided the best course of action was to scoop me up-"

"Like a damsel in distress." Jadzia puts in, just to be cheeky.

Julian gives her a flat look. "...Like a damsel in distress," He mutters, "And carry me. Which, let me be clear, is entirely unnecessary, and I really wish he would put me down." He hisses the last bit at Worf, who just raises an unimpressed brow at him.

Jadzia nods, putting on her best act that this is all very serious. "I see," She looks to Worf, "Your side of the story, Commander?" She invites.

Worf continues giving Julian an annoyed look, before he turns his attention to Jadzia. "Gladly," He says, "I heard a commotion and followed it to the source, and found Doctor Bashir at the bottom of an incline. His leg is injured, so I thought it best to take the most efficient course of action, and carry him back to the runabout." He explains.

Jadzia cannot hide the amused smirk that forces itself to be known on her face as she looks back at Julian. "You fell down a hill." She doesn't need to ask- she knows.

Julian doesn't look at her. "I fell down a hill."

"And you could not walk," Worf interjects, glowering, "Hence why I am carrying you."

"I could've limped!" Julian exclaims, "A shoulder to lean on would've been fine! Would you please just put me down?" He asks.

"No," Worf replies, resolute, "I will not risk you aggravating your injury for the sake of pride."

"You're a bloody hypocrite." Julian accuses.

"I dunno, Julian," Jadzia re-enters the conversation, a sly grin on her face, "I think I'm with Worf on this one."

Julian gives her a look of complete and utter betrayal. "I thought we were friends." He says, like she's just stabbed him.

"Of course we're friends," Jadzia says, "That's exactly why I'm with Worf. You shouldn't be walking on that leg. Besides," She gives him a knowing look, "I know a thing or two about being in those arms, and who am I to deny you the experience?" She asks.

Julian looks like he wants to sink into the ground and never emerge. Worf gives her a warning look. "Jadzia..." He says, in that warning tone of his.

Unfortunately for him, all that tone ever does is egg her on. "What?" She asks, batting her lashes innocently, "I'm just saying. You two look awfully cozy." She teases.

"We are not!" Julian and Worf say in haunting unison, though Julian's is more of a squeak and Worf's is more of a growl.

Jadzia throws her hands up placatingly. "Hey, hey, like I said. I'm just saying. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to," She flashes them a mischievous grin, "But if it did, you know... I wouldn't be opposed to it." She winks playfully.

"Worf, I've decided I'm alright with being carried," Julian declares suddenly, now a truly impressive shade of red, "Please take me to the runabout and away from this." He implores him.

"For once, Doctor, we agree," Worf nods, "I, too, am done with this conversation." With that, he turns away from Jadzia and resumes walking.

Jadzia's grin is out in full force. "I like it when he carries me, too!" She calls after them.

"I don't like this!" Julian calls back.

Jadzia chuckles to herself. "Liar." She accuses, though not loud enough for either of them to hear her. She watches them disappear into the foliage, satisfied enough with her teasing that she doesn't pursue them. Left alone again, she resumes her scanning, the smile never leaving her face as she gets back to work.

She is never letting either of them live that down.

[gachagon]

Can you write fluffy and slightly angsty BachiSagi where Isagi misses Bachira while they're on separate stratums in NEL

Aw this was such a cute yet sad idea, and I just had to write it! BachiSagi angst really gnaws at my heart strings since I don't like seeing either of them sad lol. Here is what I cooked up for you though!

Words: 749

Pairing: BachiSagi

While staring at the rankings after a match, Isagi can't seem to get his mind off of the past, and his thoughts keep circling back to one person in particular. His eyes have been locked onto Bachira's name on the ranking board for quite some time...

“Wow, he’s really moving up huh?” Isagi was shaken from his reverie by Chigiri’s voice. He had been staring at the most recent ranking’s posted in the main hall of the Blue Lock facility, when Chigiri had decided to join him as well. Though, Isagi’s eye wasn’t trained on his own name, and neither was Chigiri’s. 

“Yeah, Bachira’s amazing…” Isagi said wistfully. He glanced at Chigiri who laughed softly. 

“And how do you know I was talking about Bachira, hm?” He asked Isagi with an amused smirk. Isagi looked away then, his embarrassment showing clearly on his face. Great, could you be any more obvious? He berated himself as he searched for an answer. “Forget it, I’m just teasing. You have been staring at the board pretty hard, though.” Chigiri said.

“Have I…?” Isagi asked as he continued to stare upwards at Bachira’s name. It was right next to his own now, they were evenly matched in terms of price as well. Isagi wondered how long it must have taken for them both to reach this point on the ranking’s board, and how impossible it had seemed so long ago to achieve anything close to it without the other right beside them. Actually…how long has it been…? He tried to remember the last time he and Bachira actually got to train together or even play in a match as opponents, but no matter what his memory came up short. The last memory he held of them being next to one another was when they both had lunch the day before they were assigned to different teams. 

Bachira had been so excited then, he wouldn’t stop talking to Isagi about which team he was going to pick. Back then, Isagi was happy to just support him in his endeavors no matter what choice he made. He had even bitterly thought to himself that it was ridiculous to think Bachira would want to follow behind him. Or that it’d be pathetic for him to try and follow Bachira. He couldn’t bring himself to possibly say any of that, or make some desperate plea to try to be on the same team. 

Because Bachira looked so happy. He couldn’t possibly take that away from him. So he kept his mouth shut, and when Bachira went off to BarchaSpain, Isagi said nothing still. Except to tell him it was a good choice. 

“Training’s been kinda hellish hasn’t it? I feel like passing out every time it’s finally over…” Chigiri spoke from beside him, and Isagi gave a half hearted reply. “But you know…I heard from Anri that Bastard Munchen’s getting a special matchup. Some kind of game not associated with the whole NEL thing…like a promotion?” 

Isagi craned his head in interest, yet he still had his eye trained on the ranking board. 

“It’s supposed to be a big game between Noa and Lavinho. That’ll be a crazy match to see, certainly. Too bad I won’t be there to watch…” Isagi’s head swiveled in Chigiri’s direction who was nonchalantly checking his nails out. 

“What did you say?” Isagi asked. 

“Oh? Are you interested, Isagi? Those ranking’s seemed to have you really enamored, so-” 

“Noa and Lavinho are going to…have a match soon?” Isagi’s heart leapt into his throat as Chigiri smirked. 

“Did I not just say that? Anyways, good luck you’ll definitely need it. They’ve got some pretty good talent on that team.” Chigiri said with a smile. “Though, you knew that already. After all, you’ve been watching the ranking’s all day.” 

Before Chigiri could turn to walk away, Isagi grabbed his arm. “W-wait! When is this matchup exactly…?” 

Chigiri’s head tilted to the side, “Oh I don’t know, I think Anri said they were planning for it to be…this weekend?”

This weekend…in 3 days…I can see him in 3 days…

“Thank’s Chigiri!” He ran past him then. 

“Hey, where are you off to now?” Chigiri called after him. 

“To train!” Isagi answered. He wanted to be at his best for this. It was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up even for a moment. He also didn’t want to disappoint Bachira somehow, his blood thrummed with an excitement that usually came when he was going up against someone more talented than him on the field. 

He was going to see Bachira in 3 days, and he was going to make sure he was the best he’d ever been for him. 

3 days…it chorused through his mind as he headed for the training room. 

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of all Saiyans

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Masterlist

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I am alive! This chapter was supposed to be out months ago, but my laptop died on me, and decided to take half of chapter 13 with it. Re-writing something I already wrote kinda destroyed my motivation too. But I am back.... again! I just want to thank you all for your patience and constant support! Your comments mean the world to me. And as always, my Dm's/comments are always open if you have any comments, questions, or concerns.

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Chapter 13

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You knew Kakarot had gotten stronger, but his strength is on another planet compared to yours. You wouldn't even have imagined that the level he's reached was obtainable for a Saiyan. You should feel ashamed. A pathetic third class has outranked you. But you're not; in fact, you've never been more attracted to another being before in your life. God, what is Kakarot doing to you? Why do you feel like this? You hate feeling like this— only if you could turn off these infuriating emotions and just go back to the way things were before. Before, you lost not only your mind but your better judgment as well.

Your eyes remain glued to the interaction between Ginyu and Goku, more specifically, the panicked expression on Ginyu's face. You squint at him, wondering if your eyes are deceiving you. The great Captain Ginyu is sweating— you didn't even think his species could sweat. "Y-You— It's not possible— You're a— Super Saiyan!"

Is it possible? Has Kakarot actually become a Super Saiyan? Other than the spike in strength, Kakarot doesn't appear any different. No. He's not a Super Saiyan. You remember the stories from your childhood quite well. He wouldn't be in his base form. He would've undergone a transformation similar to the one you experience when changing into your Great Ape forms. You also watched Broly's transformation in front of your own eyes. Though the memory is quite faint. In his fit of rage, he managed to knock you unconscious very early on. You have no memory of his appearance during his transformation, but you know it happened.

Now you know Kakarot isn't a Super Saiyan, but you don't have to let Ginyu and Jeice in on your realization. In fact, you find their meltdowns amusing. They're terrified of one of the least malicious Saiyan's to ever exist. Goku powers back down, his power level returning to its normal range. "Now. As you guys can see, you don't stand a chance." You know it's not his intention, but he sounds so cocky. At times like this, it's almost like he's a real Saiyan. "But— I still don't want to kill you— how about—" And he ruined it, he always does. His good-hearted nature always manages to shine through. It makes you sick.

"Kakarot, don't even think about finishing that damn sentence! If you do, I will come over there and skin you alive!"

Goku shifts his gaze onto you, chuckling lightheartedly. You scowl at him. He finds your threats comical. How does he manage to get under your skin so well? And the only thing that enrages you more is that you know he's not doing it on purpose. He's not being malicious; Kakarot's just being his dopey self. "Oh, come on, Y/N. They can't be all bad." His naivety still somehow manages to shock you. Compared to Ginyu, you're a saint. There isn't anything redeemable about him. He's Frieza's most capable soldier. Ginyu needs to die. Whether Kakarot likes it or not.

"Is he serious?" Ginyu turns to you, his face contorted in confusion. "He'd really just let us go?" Ginyu knows what your race was like. He must realize how abnormal Goku's behavior is too.

"Yes, he would." You turn back to Goku, that familiar aloof expression returning to your features. "But he won't. Kakarot, if you let Ginyu and his little sidekick go, we will start doing things my way. And trust me— you won't like my way." 

"But… can't we just—"

"Absolutely not!" You fly up to Goku, getting way too close for comfort. You lean over, whispering in his ear. At an octave, you know for sure Ginyu and Jeice can't hear. "My way is to slaughter that old Namkian so Frieza doesn't even have the chance to gain immortality. That would also prevent you from resurrecting your little battalion of buffoons. Use the few brain cells you have and get your priorities in order. Make your decision now— I have very little patience today, Kakarot."

Goku presses his lips together, letting out an exaggerated huff. "Fine—" He turns back to Ginyu, a slight smirk appearing on his lips. "Looks like I don't have a choice then." 

Jeice's obnoxious cackling invades your ears. “Is this imbecile your new lapdog, Y/N? Did you get bored of Raditz already?"

"If only Kakarot was as well trained as Raditz." You snicker. You've genuinely taken Raditz for granted over the years. You never thought you'd ever consider Raditz to be cooperative. Compared to Kakarot, Raditz is a dream.

Ginyu's eyes scan from you to Kakarot before something seems to click in his head. He throws his head back, laughing maniacally. “You’re no Super Saiyan. Well, at least not yet." You're not surprised that Ginyu was able to connect the dots. He isn't a total moron. "Jeice!" He turns to the red lunatic, tossing him his scouter. "Hold onto that for me. Something tells me I'm not going to need it against this guy."

Ginyu screams as he begins to power up. He stands still for a moment, chuckling to himself. You watch in horror as he impales himself in the chest. However, you're not the only one rattled by this. Goku turns back to look at you, hoping to find some sort of clarity, but you're just as clueless as he is. 

Ginyu just attacked himself? That had to be intentional. But why? You furrow your brows staring at the injured man. A brief childhood memory floods your brain. You remember your father speaking to one of his most entrusted guards about Ginyu. "Never trust a man who can change his face at whim." His words echo through your mind. You always assumed he was referring to a transformation, but now you're not so sure.

Ginyu begins to power up once again. Dust and debris fill the air around you as his screams get louder. "Change now!"

Your eyes widen as you turn to Goku. "Kakarot! You fool! Move out of the damn way!" A bright light surrounds them. You move a hand above your eyes, trying to shield yourself from the blinding light. You're not exactly sure what's happening, but you know it can't be anything good. 

You squint as the light begins to disappear. To the naked eye, it appears as if nothing has changed. Both men are standing in the exact same positions they started in. But something had changed. You could tell just by their posture. 

You knew the second you heard that grating chuckle escape Kakarot's lips. So that's what your father meant all those years ago. Ginyu has the ability to switch bodies. You've never heard of anything like that before. You didn't even know such an ability was possible.

Your mouth hangs agape. Today has been full of surprises. You don't like surprises. In fact, you despise them. Ginyu turns towards you with that foreign smirk on his lips. You didn't even think Kakarot's lips could contort like that. "I don't think I've ever seen you so surprised, Y/N. Trust me. I'm not thrilled about this downgrade either— to have to demean myself and become one of you monkeys." You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. You have to remain calm. You can't lose your temper now.

Your gaze flickers over to Kakarot. You're not sure which mashup you find more repulsive. Ginyu in Kakarot's body, or that cheerful buffoon in Ginyu's. Things can never be easy with Kakarot, can they? His idiocy always seems to cause you problems.  

Jeice flies up to Ginyu. "Captain Ginyu, sir." He hands him his scouter. "You wanted this back." You watch intently as Ginyu puts his scouter back on his new form. That's strange. Why does he need a scouter? Now that he's in Kakarot's body, he should be able to sense energy. Unless what if he only takes on physical characteristics but not mental ones. That would make sense since Ginyu hasn't developed any of Kakarot's irritating behaviors. So even with Ginyu in Kakarot's body, you still have the upper hand. 

"Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but we have to head to the spaceship. Come on, Jeice, Lord Frieza must be waiting for us." The two men fly off, leaving you alone with Kakarot.

Goku winces in pain, falling down to the ground. You fly over to him, placing your hands on your hips. "Get up!" The man attempts to stand back up, only to fall onto his knees. Due to his increased body mass, his center of gravity must be off as well. You're debating leaving him here to fend for himself. If Kakarot were to die on this planet, it would make your life so much easier. You'd be able to do everything your way. But as much as you'd love to take off the way your brother did, you can't. You hate to admit it, but you need him.

You groan in annoyance, grabbing one of his arms, draping it over your shoulders. You wrap an arm around his torso for extra support. Without warning, you fly up into the air, taking off after the Captain and his little sidekick.

Goku turns to you with a weakened grin. "Thanks, Y/N,"

"Shut up." You increase your speed. You're fighting every urge you have to throttle Kakarot. It would be so easy to end his life. He's so weak, and every single one of your basic instincts is screaming at you to toss him to the ground and be done with him. You'd be free of his idiocy, free of his humanity, and probably the greatest benefit of them all; You'd be free of these horrid emotions you've been feeling towards him. As much as you want to be selfish, you know you can't. You'll never be safe with Frieza alive. And the only chance you have to take him down is Kakarot. And you hate to admit that.

After quite some time, an unsettling pout appears on Goku's lips. "Y/N— Are you mad?"

You stop dead in your tracks. The scowl on your features only becomes more prominent. "No, Kakarot. This is the face I make when I'm happy!" 

"I— I don't think it is." So Kakarot doesn't understand sarcasm, either. You're starting to think he doesn't understand anything.

You catch another glimpse of his new form from your peripheral vision, and you can't help but cringe. "How is it possible that you're more revolting in this form?" 

He grins at you. "Are you saying you like my base form?"

"Of course not!" your face flushes a shade of crimson. You take off once again, only at an increased speed. You can't tolerate another minute of this torture.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally arrive at Frieza's ship. Jeice snaps his head back, a look of panic overtaking his features. He must have seen your power levels on his scouter. A cocky grin spreads across your lips as you wave to the red menace with your free hand.

You shift your gaze onto Kakarot's brat. He's sniveling as per usual. "But Raditz! I can't. He's my dad." It looks like Gohan's about to break out into tears. Even Tarble didn't cry this much. That half-breed is an embarrassment to your entire race. 

"For the millionth time!" Raditz huffs. "That is not your father!" 

"B-But he looks just like him." 

"Well, he's not!" You can tell Raditz is agitated by the movements of his tail. "You wanna hear a little secret brat? Kakarot looks just like my father too. And I have no issue fighting him. So you shouldn't either."

"Well, that's different. You're— you know."

Raditz tangles his hands in his hair. "God, now I know what it feels like to be Vegeta." He narrows his eyes at Gohan. "If you're going to be this pathetic, you might as well go sit on the sidelines with Jeice. You're just going to get in my way."

"Hey!" Krillin shouts. "Go easy on him. He's just a kid." 

Raditz shakes his head. "That means nothing to me. Saiyan children are far more independent at his age." He balls up his fists, snarling. "You're both pathetic." Raditz lands on the ground, walking away from the humans.

"Where are you going?" Krillin shouts, furrowing his brows at the Saiyan. 

"You're both nothing more than a liability at this point. So either pull your own weight and fight, or you both die. It's your choice." 

"Wow, Raditz." Ginyu chuckles. "You're making my job really easy here." Ginyu turns to the two humans with a sadistic grin on his lips. "Alright. Which of you two runts wants to die first?"

"Captain Ginyu, sir." Jeice interrupts, his eyes still glued on your form.

"Oh, shut it, Jeice! Whatever it is, it can wait. Can't you see I'm having fun over here!" He directs his attention back to Gohan and Krillin. "Now come on, we don't have all day. So make a decision. If you really can't decide, how about you play a friendly game of rock, paper, scissors? That's how we deal with all our problems."

The pair exchange weary glances. "We're not going to play your sick game!" Gohan shouts. 

"Wow, you're both no fun at all." Ginyu groans. "Fine. I'll make the decision for you." His eyes scan back and forth as he tries to decide which human life he should bring to an end first. He takes a moment before his eyes land on Gohan. "I played a large part in exterminating that Saiyan race. Why not add a half-breed to the list of the thousands of Saiyans I've slaughtered."

Your vision goes red. Ginyu's words remind you just how long you've been forced to play nice. You had to live among the very people who destroyed your life. And you'll never be able to go back to life on Planet Vegeta, no matter how much you wish you could. The one place where you felt like you belonged is gone. And you can thank Lord Frieza for that, and by association, you can thank Ginyu too. The pro's collom for knocking Ginyu on his ass keeps growing by the second. 

Now you don't feel like you have to get involved by obligation but by your own volition instead. Besides, you know Raditz is too stubborn to change his mind. That damn Saiyan pride flows through his veins just as deeply as your brother. You can practically hear Vegeta screaming in your ear, calling you a fool for even thinking of engaging in battle in your condition. Maybe your brother has become some kind of immoral conscience for you. Because Vegeta's voice is always the first thing, you hear whenever you're about to make a poor decision. Even though your body has healed, your wound could easily open back up.

Your eyes remain glued on the scene in front of you as  Ginyu begins to charge at Gohan. You don't have time to dwell on the consequences of your actions anymore. You need to act now. You zoom towards them, dropping Kakarot on the ground in the process. You move in front of the brat, grabbing Ginyu's fist in your hand. 

"What the hell?" His eyes widen in shock.

You smirk at him, your eyes becoming a shade darker. "I'd say I won't enjoy this--- but I think we all know that would be a lie." You tighten your grip, effortlessly tossing Ginyu to the ground. 

His eyes meet yours. "What are you doing here, Y/N? This isn't your fight."

"You're right, but I can't pass up this opportunity. It's taking out two birds with one stone. I'm not sure which being I detest more, you or Kakarot. Now I'll get to take you both out in one go." You can see the shift in demeanor in his eyes. He's afraid. He never thought you'd ever be able to outpower him. But you can toss him around like he's lighter than air. 

You cock your head to the side, your eyes landing on Raditz. "So what do you say? Since the little humans are too scared--- it looks like it's a job for the big bad Saiyans."

He raises a brow at you. "And why should I?"

"Because you were robbed of a right of passage for Saiyan children when Kakarot was banished to that horrid planet. The oldest Saiyan tradition in the book."

 "And what is that?" It's hard to miss the gleam of amusement in his eyes.  

"Beating the absolute hell out of your younger sibling." 

The corners of Raditz's lips curve upwards. "Then what are we waiting for?" He flies back up into the air, hovering beside you.

"Great," Ginyu groans. "The Dynamic Duo is back together."

You dip down to the ground, grabbing Ginyu and tossing him at Raditz. "The ball's in your court."

He chuckles darkly to himself. "Now, where's the fun in hogging all the glory for myself." He throws Ginyu back at you.

You and Raiditz continue to toss Ginyu back and forth like a volleyball. The combination of your and Raditz's laughter is contagious. It's not mocking, either. It's almost joyous as if you and Raditz were just playing a game. You can't even put into words how you feel at this moment. Making the all-powerful Captain Ginyu look like a fool fills you with a deep satisfaction. A man who your own father feared is now entirely at your mercy.

"Jeice--- you useless---fool. Get in here--- and help me!"  Ginyu's words don't even seem to register in Jeice's brain. His eyes remain wide, almost fish-like, as he stares at you and Raditz tossing around his boss.

"Oh, The Great Captain Ginyu begging for help?" You mock him as a sinister grin forms on your lips. 

"A pair of monkeys batting you around like it's nothing." Raditz chuckles. "This must be mortifying for you." Your collective taunting only seems to anger Ginyu further. But there's nothing he can do. He's not even stronger than Krillin at the moment.

Jeice shakes his head, finally breaking through his trance-like state. "Yes, sir!" 

"And where do you think you're going?" A deep voice comes from behind the red fool. "You're going to have to get through me first." 

"Finally," You let out a throaty chuckle. "I was wondering when you were going to come out to play, Geta."

"Well, I can't let you and Raditz have all the fun, now can I?" Jeice slowly turns around, his pupils widening as his gaze lands on Vegeta. "What's wrong, Jeice?" He chuckles. "Were you not expecting me?"

"I thought the Ginyu force planned for every possible contingency? Raditz smirks. "I mean, come on--- it's common sense. Wherever Y/N is, her babysitter isn't far behind." 

"That is true." You flutter your eyelashes at the red menace. "I'm quite the handful."

Jeice clenches his fists. "You---you--- arrogant--- pests!"

"I'm confused." Raditz furrows his brows, tossing Ginyu back to you. "I thought we were monkeys?"

"You can't expect any consistency with Frieza's soldiers, Raditz. Jeice isn't used to thinking for himself." Jeice's face flushes an even deeper shade of red as he speeds towards your brother, throwing the first punch. 

Jeice and Vegeta begin their battle, but you don't pay much attention to it. You and Raditz are still busy mindlessly tossing Ginyu back and forth. You know you can't kill Ginyu while he's in Kakarot's body, so humiliating him is the worst thing you can do. You need to get Kakarot back in his own body--- but how? You didn't even know Ginyu had this ability till today. Maybe there's some sort of way to reverse it? You don't even have the time to figure out how to do so. You have to be smart about this. Maybe you can trick Ginyu into activating his ability again? You just have to keep pushing until he snaps. And lucky for you, that happens to be your specialty.

You and Raditz continue to mock and berate Ginyu. You've both done a significant amount of damage to Goku's body. It's honestly therapeutic for you. Finally getting to punch Kakarot in his stupid face... well, kind of... it's the closest you'll get for now.

"You two still aren't done?" Vegeta sighs, placing a hand on his hip. Wow, he sure took care of Jeice quickly. At least you think he did. Your concept of time isn't the greatest right now. 

You have to push Ginyu farther. You're getting under his skin, but it's not enough. "You know what, Raditz. The Captain's just so pathetic I think his abilities are just beneath us."

Raditz nods, his typical shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "You're so right. What do you think we should do, Princess?"

"I say we leave him for the human and the half-breed. I think they could finish him off quite quickly themselves." 

"That's enough!" Ginyu shrieks, shooting himself up into the air. He locks his gaze on you. 

You have to time this just right, or this plan will backfire on you. You speed over to Kakarot, standing over his motionless body. 

"What's wrong, Y/N? Are you scared?"

"Oh, Ya." You snarl. "I'm shaking in my boots."

Ginyu possesses his arms the same way he did when he switched bodies with Goku. You have to get the timing just right. "Change now!" You grab Goku, using him as a human shield from Ginyu's move. 

The bright light clears. "What the hell?" Vegeta furrows his brows.

"It's great to have you back, Captain." You smirk, dropping him to the ground. 

You turn to Goku, who's also back in his own body. "Nice one, Y/N." He falls to the ground, wincing in pain. He might be in worse shape than when he was in Ginyu's body.

You move over to the others. "So what do we do next? Gohan questions, directing his gaze on your brother.

"That's easy. We go after Frieza." Vegeta rolls his eyes at Raditz.

"Absolutely not." He gestures at Kakarot. "He's in no shape to be fighting Frieza any time soon."

"Then what's the plan?"

Before Vegeta can even respond, he's interrupted by Kakarot. "Vegeta! Look out!" You turn around only to see that all too familiar bright light. Damn it! You should've squashed Ginyu like the bug he is when you had the chance. Now you'll have to deal with that hell all over again.

You look at your brother expecting the worst. But nothing seems to have changed. "Vegeta?"

He turns to you. "It's still me, Y/N." You're relieved to hear your brother's voice. But why didn't Ginyu's power work? You look down at the ground, only to see a frog hopping around. Kakarot must have thrown the frog... so that's the great Captain Ginyu.

You throw your head back, bursting out into a fit of laughter. You scoop the frog into your hands, holding him up to your face. "How pathetic. Bet you wish you were one of us monkey's still, huh?"

You turn to Vegeta. "Geta? Can I keep him as a pet?"

Your brother stares at you like you have three heads. "Absolutely not!"

"Why not? I'll make sure to feed him."

"Why not! Have you gone insane? Besides, you already don't take care of the pet you already have."

"I've taken very good care of Raditz! He's still alive, isn't he?"

"No, Y/N. He's dangerous. And I'll end up being the one who has to take care of him. If you really want a pet, we'll get you one after all this is over."

"Fine." You pout, letting Ginyu go.

"Okay, let's get a move on. It's not going to take Lord Frieza long to learn that Ginyu is out of commission." 

[tithe2hell]

an amusing thing to me about the Yuri vs yaoi forever war fandom struggle discourse is that for the f/f fans mad about yaoi popularity and making lots of extremely funny (to me) Song-of-Roland-esque posts that make it sound like "we are going to WAR against the evil man-centering fujos terrorizing and colonizing our yuriship spaces!!!" Is that I never see the loudest trumpeters actually go to "war" or do any work organizing or strategizing to "win" their cause.

The only tactic they have is trying to do a "win hearts and minds by telling yaoi shippers they should feel Bad for Centering Men and being "dick-obsessed" (hmmm!) and "interrogate your kinks"-ass rhetoric (double hmmm!!!) which ok, let's take that at face value....that's a purely INTERNAL process. You're asking someone to sit down and Correct Their Thoughts and Soul, with hopefully ending towards the End Product of "After they've been Corrected, they will make More Content I Like, and the Big Number or AO3 stat will go up and surpass the Content I don't Like"

Which ok fine...but very hilariously ineffective, a very passive activism. Vague steps to take (be aware!!) It doesn't even really make or give people any steps to reach the supposed goal of Surpassing in Number for the Sake of the Number. The loudest ppl who seem to freak out whenever the stats number is down, I never see working to build connections of support and love for the people who make the stuff you want.

Like even framing as a matter of representation for real life women and wlw, we've had discussions for ages re: media industry how the conditions of ppl who create behind the scenes so that they have freedom of expression and control of their stories is essential to having "good representation." Even if the marginalized ppl in general end up making stuff that is maybe "gross" or "trashy" or Sexual in a Way You don't Like*, that support of the actual real creators and enthusiasts is what's important.

For fujos, I feel most of us are used to getting shit on so we don't really care what people say and will continue to toil in the posting mines make what we make, even if it's rare and gross so someone trying to simply make an Hearts and Minds "war" move is not very effective. We have our own work to do, the work (of play) is what makes things meaningful, bc if is done for its own sake. The best f/f fans and creators I've seen, the ones I see be lambasted for being "weird and gross" are the ones who are passionate and who commission and discuss and have relationships, don't need to bother with the Hearts and Mind because they are building castles and fortifications And making discoveries themselves, rather than worrying what other ppl think of them or if their ships or themselves are "approvable" or defined by a general public. The tactics that fujos use to boost and celebrate THEIR rarepairs etc are certainly not exclusive.

When I think Abt cool projects and esp stuff that has contributed to say, communities and celebration of media and creatives especially re: f/f fandom stuff, I think of stuff like Empty Movement and their massive decades-long archiving of utena materials, of people making zines and creative works around ships I wouldn't even consider until I see the cool ideas, or my friends who review and write and talk extensively about the novels and works they are reading both to reflect their tastes and raise interest. That builds foundations and connections between people . That is how you fight. That is how you wage your proper war...it does not have to be fruitless...

*I have maintained that if people REALLY wanted their numbers to go up they'd support the people making siscon and momdaughter stuff bc there's a sheer lack esp of the latter...a big part of yaoisms popularity is bc everyone loves Dadson, which imo is basically a very big fantasy even for heteros and pops up gratuitously in like every mainstream movie ever. Now that we are getting really mom generational trauma narratives it's time for momdaughter to shine. But unfortunately every time I check up on a false loud war trumpeter wondering where all the femslash is they're also recoiling with disgust about incest And agegap and other problematic tropes so like maybe they really don't care about the Number Going Up-just acceptability, and of things they personally can relate to? One can never know.

[the-lonelybarricade]

41- Elucien (duh)

Aww babes did you know you're my first Elucien prompt request ever? That's so fitting 🥰 Also i was like, this is totally going to be an Elucien one-night stand and then just ended up writing... the precursor to that. I meant to write you smut but I ran out of words okay? 😭

Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy - Elain/Lucien (968 words)

Elain had only one thing on her mind: revenge. 

And tonight, revenge looked like a skinny red dress that wouldn’t cover her ass if she bent over. She had never dressed like this in public before, and in the back of her mind she could hear all the cutting remarks from Graysen when he saw her instagram page the next morning. The thought drew a smile to her blood-red lips. Good. 

She wanted him to see that she was unfussed about their breakup. That she was hot and newly single and finally taking advantage of 6 years of dedicated monogamy washed down the drain—though it was clear that only one of them had been dedicated and monogamous. They’d been high school sweethearts, and she’d never even kissed another man besides Graysen. Until tonight.

“That one,” Feyre whispered in her ear, pointing across the bar. Elain’s eyes followed her fingers to a red haired man leaning over a pool table, fingers braced against the cue stick with a confidence that had her stomach fluttering.

“Really?” Nesta asked, with a disdain that Elain couldn’t possibly fathom. He was gorgeous, maybe too much so. Elain suddenly doubted she’d have any sway with him at all, especially as she watched him sink a pair of stripes, grin magnificently, and hand the stick off to a scowling blonde man. He was with a friend, and that made him all the more an unlikely choice.

Feyre must have read the weariness on Elain’s face, because she sighed. “Oh, don’t be like that. Nesta and I can distract his friend.”

“I don’t think so,” Nesta said haughtily. “He looks like an ass. If you need me, I’ll be here taking pictures.”

Really, Elain was grateful that Nesta had come along at all. She was only half-heartedly in support of the find-Elain-a-one-night-stand plan. Most of her suggestions of revenge had included physical assault and vandalism, which in truth made Elain feel less guilty about sleeping with someone to rub it in Graysen's face. At least she wasn’t committing a crime.

Feyre rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Elain’s. “C’mon, El. Just follow my lead.”

Should she be embarrassed her younger sister was so much better at this kind of thing? It seemed to come effortlessly to Feyre as she led them up to the pool table and offered both men a coquettish smile, before her eyes settled pointedly on the blonde one. “Is it alright if we join the next round?”

The two men spared a glance towards each other, some silent communication passing between them before the blonde one smiled at Feyre. “You can help us finish up this game too, if you want. You any good? Lucien’s whipping my ass, so I could use all the help I can get.”

Lucien snorted where he propped himself against the wall. Elain glanced at him, nothing subtle in the way her eyes roved appreciatively over the muscles of his crossed arms, before she trailed her gaze up to his face and was met with an amused pair of russet eyes. She felt her face heat furiously at being caught, but Lucien only smirked and returned his own appreciative once over.

While the blonde man handed Feyre the cue stick, starting up some quiet conversation, Elain felt herself gravitating over to the wall. 

“Looks like we’re on a team,” she said, more bold than she felt.

Lucien glanced over her shoulder and laughed. “Not for much longer, it seems.”

Turning, Elain caught the wink Feyre sent her as she placed the cue on the table before grabbing the blonde man’s hand and leading him away.

“That was… quick,” Elain found herself saying, astonished by her sister’s prowess.

“Well, I am an extraordinary wingman,” Lucien said, pushing off the wall to reclaim the abandoned cue stick.

Elain raised her brows at him. “And who’s to say it’s not because I’m an excellent wingwoman?”

Lucien grinned at her, and Elain didn’t miss the way his eyes wavered on her lips. “Does the excellent wingwoman play pool?”

“Not for free,” she whispered, watching his lips, too.

He stepped close enough so that she could smell the cologne on him, something rich and autumnal that made her tempted to bury her face in his neck and taste his skin. Lucien handed her the cue stick, so tall she had to glance up to meet those hooded russet eyes. He spared her the trouble, leaning down so that their faces were level, and she could feel the puff of his breath as he asked, “What will it cost me?”

Graysen, who?

“A wager,” she breathed, steeling her nerves to add, “winner takes the loser home.”

“Deal,” he said, pulling away. “You break.”

It didn’t take him long to reset the table, and Elain made sure he was in full view of her ass as she bent over the table, feeling her dress ride up. She bit her lip, trying not to feel insecure in knowing he could see the lace underwear she wore underneath. This had been part of Feyre’s plan, but Elain’s palms felt sweaty as she lined up the shot and sent the balls scattering, managing to sink one of the solids. Lucien watched quietly behind her, but Elain didn’t have the nerve to turn around to gauge what he was really looking at. Her second shot was unsuccessful and Elain straightened, pretending to be blissfully unaware as she handed the cue stick off to a dark eyed Lucien.

Lucien braced himself against the table, the picture of male confidence as he lined up his shot… and immediately sunk the 8-ball.

“Oops,” he said, turning to look at Elain with feigned innocence, even as the curl of his lips gave him away. “Guess I lost.”

[thedemonscrawler]

Hi! Ask game 💖🦅🤲🤩🧠 (Sun/Moon)

Hewwo!

💖 What made you start writing?

Uuuuuh brainworms i guess 8I I mean I wrote as a little kid, like most little kids do, and I wasn't discouraged from doing it. I don't really know, I guess. If you read enough stories you eventually have to start making your own? And I lucked out that no one ever told me to stop?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

I already answered this one, so I'll go more in depth!

Permission Slip actually has two kinds of outlines. The first is the 'main' outline, where I wrote out the main plot points. It hangs out at the very top of the document, after a section dedicated to notes.

This was the outline for chapter 1 and half of chapter two:

Some of the details changed once I actually wrote the scenes, but there was no reason to go back and change the outline by that point, so it sticks around as a neat record.

I don't write chronologically, I jump up and down the timeline and write on whatever scene I happen to be feeling. I also have a terrible memory and PS is really long, so to keep from forgetting where I was going with a scene when I come back to it later, I have scene outlines. This one is for the middle of chapter 11:

They're a lot more focused, though you can see there's still a lot of wiggle room in what I'm planning and what I end up doing. They end up sprinkled throughout the chapter and get deleted as I go along. The scene outlines can be brief (one of the funniest I wrote just said 'Gregory is sad 8(' ) or they can be almost play-by-play, it just depends on what I need.

Honestly I recommend trying it if you have a hard time organizing your thoughts. Its a lot easier to navigate a conversation when you can refer back to a few sentences that say "okay they talk about this thing, and then this thing, and then this character gets mad and says this".

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Sun. 100% it's Sun.

🧠 Pick a character, and I’ll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

I have just forgotten any and all headcanons I have for them

Sun's sensory array has been pretty fun! He's coy about it because I think it amuses him, but his rays are designed to read air pressure in some pseudo-sciencey way, which is how he maps out the room around him. It's not foolproof; Freddy took them off guard at the end of chapter 4 because Sun couldn't sense him, the Green Room's window just registered as a solid wall and he had no idea someone was in it. He also can't sense anything smaller than a baby (theoretically the smallest thing he'd need to know is there), so real small stuff has to rely on his regular vision. But tbh? His array would make him even better at navigating somewhere pitch black than Moon, since infrared needs at least a tiny bit of light to work.

Moon flinches when you touch him. It isn't because he anticipates pain or because it hurts or you take him by surprise, like he can watch you reach out towards him and he'll still flinch when you make contact. It's just... something he does.

Bonus Moon headcanon: He likes bugs. as evidenced by the comic >u< he's a bugboy. The only reason he doesn't keep one as a pet is he agrees that there's too much risk of it escaping into the Daycare. Sun... tolerates the bugs, in that "I don't personally like them but you do and I love you so I'll support your interests" kind of way

[halothenthehorns]

Spoilery goodness on TSatS below!

I want to preface this by saying I've never been active in the PJO fandom before when something first came out. His books have always been on and off my radar every five years or so since I was in middle school and I binge read to catch up then move on to something else, but since I've been actively writing fanfiction for these books lately, here are my first, fresh thoughts.

First the good!

I actually really liked Will was a big ol' doofus damsel in distress. Not everybody needs to be a big action hero and 'useful' on a quest. Will was there purely for moral support because Nico was going back to a most dreaded place, and he fulfilled that roll with moderate success while the two worked on their issues. I will now forever laugh at Care Bare Powers activate, and Will punning his own name and just being happy to be along was all I wanted from him.

I don't know why anybody would say him and Nico were ooc. You do know characters adapt and change over time, right? Of course Nico's going to be slightly different than before, this is the first book we've ever seen him actively trying to be happy.

I did laugh at some parts, I did have whole chunks of chapters were I was invested and curious what was going to happen, and I can not say enough how much I love Bob and Small Bob!

The Gorgyra's parts were some of my favorite, I can't help but laugh there was a scenic route through Tartarus on the happy friendship boat by sharing memories, and that's what I really wanted out of this book. A little background on these boys, a good promise of their future, and that is exactly what I got.

The Cocoa Puffs are a hilarious addition and I hope Nico and Will name every one of them and they make terrifying additions in continuing novels.

It wasn't a great shock or twist or anything he left his darkness behind. I half expected it to be their treasured objects that were invented for this book, so the fact that it was instead a piece of Nico he always clung to was a fairish way out of it without having to dramatically kill somebody, or break up Solangelo, or worse, make it Bob.

Chapter 24 was probably my favorite. I really loved Persephone's talk with Will;

but this chapter also kind of highlights some of my bad.

I really get why a lot of people are saying it reads like preachy bad fanfiction. Persephone could have shown up and had that talk with Will without the whole, oh if somebody's forcing you to be in a bad relationship you should runaway as fast as possible detail.

There's whole chunks of the book like that.

I was genuinely bored on some of it, Epiales  nightmares went on way to long when a first grader could figure out that's what was going on from the moment they reached the bottom the first time and mysteriously found their way at the top with a 'shadow' lurking behind them.

I like the sidequesty idea, the RR books had always been bad about doddling around to get to the real meat of the story with his sidequests and exploring more of the Underworld is always fun. The update on Geryon getting a boyfriend made me freeze up and mind blank for a good minute in shock, so I'll give it that.

I don't know, I think a good sideplot would have helped some of the structure problems. I've never written my own novel, I'm not going to pretend to think I can and should fix this, just my first thought.

The almost last bit where it was Hades who put all this together was another good example of why this was kind of cringe but mostly in line with the general RR series. The gods can never be OOC because they're gods. They can do whatever they want from book to book and it's just their mood for that moment. Hades breaking his rules to give Nico a moment with Bianca and Bianca (that's not a typo) was a sweet gesture and him using his son to get Bob out because his yelling got to loud was sweet and amusing.

But then they didn't do anything with the moment. It was just a quick shot, Bianca (actual Bianca) barley even got to say anything, and it was just over :( You spent whole pages of them just walking around like a Tolkien novel, you couldn't have given a little more emotion to Nico finally getting to talk to his mother and sister for the last time...

My only major complaint was the camp.

Dionysus was OOC. Him just sporadically being a good counselor and listening to Nico and caring is just, so, ugh. Not everybody needs to be nice and sweet and rainbows. I don't care I'm contradicting myself, Dionysus was written in previous books to care about the kids but in his own salty way about being stuck there, you didn't have to make him share his popcorn.

Chiron's always been like that. Oh, another big bad prophecy where my campers are off to do the most dangerous and world perilous things?

Cool, yeah, I'll be over here teaching archery, have fun with that.

The fact that there were no campers was?! I call absolute bull the 80-100+ kids that are supposedly there all have happy homes lives they went off to. Why would you even want to write it like the place was empty and barren? I wasn't even hoping for more OC and intense background, just a little casual time of Nico being accepted in camp which we only got on the first pages and then- Just, so much, !?

Thing two was Piper getting the check-up call at the end instead of Reyna. Yes authors, highlight the recently found out gay chick instead of Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Jason's best friend you keep forgetting existed and is now possibly exploring her Aro/Ace life with the Hunters and Jason's sister Thalia! This choice just personally infuriated me because I want a Hunters book sooooo bad, and I was desperately hoping when the scene started we were going to get a 'jump off' point for them like this book was at the end of ToA

If we get a Piper book next, maybe I'll get lucky and it'll be a team up book wit them, but I am not holding my breath at this rate.

5/10, would only recommend to hardcore RR fans. Will probably reread again someday, but years from now when I convince myself it might not have been as bland as I remember it.

[kariachi]

Birthday Ask: Anything Argit 10?

Okay, listen, I know DJW said Argit 10 got his watch off Azmuth but as funny as the idea of Azmuth being that hard up with gambling debts is it is just not interesting enough for me and leaves me with too many questions that don't get answered. So, we've got a few options!

Normally I write Argit as having been born and raised in the Null Void and here that would continue to be the case, with the ship containing the Omnitrix having ended up through a portal in it's fleeing from Vilgax, presumably crashing and as a result one each small Erinaen digging through wreckage gets a hell of a surprise (bonus points if he's still with his family when this happens, because I've been writing his Ma as having history with Vilgax ever since Mel suggested it and she would 100% sell her own kid to her on-and-off boytoy with no hesitation). His getting it at all would be made possible via one of the two following

Argit isn't born and raised in the Null Void and so gets his watch the same way the Ben got his, with the answer to the question of "wait didn't the watch latch onto Ben because it was programmed for Max and went 'close enough'?" being "no, in this universe one of Argit's relatives was higher on the list than Max was and so-"

Argit isn't born and raised in the Null Void and so gets his watch the same way the Ben got his, with the answer to the question of "wait didn't the watch latch onto Ben because it was programmed for Max and went 'close enough'?" being "yes, that is precisely the case- would you like to explain some things to the class, Maxwell?"

Final 'option I would find interesting as hell'- we go with the 'Vilgax is Argit's pa' au, which is rarely used but incredibly amusing, with this Vilgax almost getting the Omnitrix for himself when it- either because a relative on his ma's side was deemed worthy or because this one wasn't programmed or whatever- latches itself onto his 12-yo

That last one is really fun because then you get the fucking drama of parent v child (and Ari getting the news and laughing her tail off). But any one of those would be interesting as fuck and lead to some interesting storylines just from the base concept. (Come on, look at any Tennyson variant and tell me the fucking reveal alone wouldn't be worth it. The juxtaposition between 'how many relatives do we have that you haven't told us about', 'holy shit he fucked a space-rat', and 'holy shit we're related to a superhero')

And a very important portion- in my shit it is a consistent fact of the multiverse that ever Kevin has an Argit and every Argit has a Kevin and so, he needs a Kevin. You could twist shit around there to make something work with his normal chimera storyline, but I don't care to for this. Argit 10 winds up on some backwoods mudball planet at some point or another (early on, late, who the fuck knows, at some point), finds a local he gets on with like white on rice, and with whom he readily teams up to greater success, takes with him when he leaves. ("He stole me." "You agreed to come.") Kevin's still got shit going on, but Argit handles it in a more Kevin-keeping manner than Ben did (the difference between "wtf we don't hurt people what's wrong with you" and "okay but what about if we did this instead") redirects his shit until he chills out with time, support, and even vague security. If he still does the whole chimera thing, it's under much better circumstances.

I feel like Argit would go more the stealth route than Ben. He doesn't prefer to get up in the middle of things and would rather rogue his way through. Also uses his proper form more often than other Omnitrix wielders, mostly because it's actively useful. He uses the Omnitrix for disguises mostly, and those occasions he has to fight somebody (and gripes the whole time about this being why he has Kevin damnit), sometimes for just useful abilities, like if he's got to get somewhere on a close deadline or flight would be handy. For the most part he doesn't even want to be doing the hero thing, but shit just keeps fucking happening (not helped by Kevin being a trouble magnet) and he keeps getting stuck in it.

Also, because the idea amuses me- Rook still eventually gets involved. Argit will happily take opportunities to have people give him money to use his likeness with downright glee, so the shows Rook got all caught up in are still a thing and he leaves home to try to get his hero to help him become a hero himself. Imagine his surprise when when the guy the shows portrayed as this Robin Hood-meets-Batman figure turns out to be a morally grey reluctant hero who knows too much about and is too happy to engage in crime, and the guy portrayed as a bumbling sidekick turns out to be the most dangerous, if friendlier, of the pair.

And he can keep Master Control from DJW's comments, that can be what he gets off Azmuth, because the gambling debt thing does amuse me so.

[cerriddwenluna]

In your fanfic writing, would you say you tend to favor Kurt more than Blaine? Like subconsciously, you make Blaine weaker, or more vulnerable, or the joke of any idiotic scenario?

Hmm, thats an interesting question, but to answer I'd have to split it in four parts. Strap in, cause its a long one lol

1.

I don't know if I favour one above the other per se. I write best when writing what I know, and I identify with both on very different levels. So it would very much depend on the situation they are in, I guess.

However, if you mean to ask which one I like more overall, then I honestly can't choose. I love them both equally 😁 ♡

2.

I would definitely never write Blaine as being 'weaker', but I do believe he is a lot better/experienced at expressing vulnerability than Kurt is. To some, that ease with showing emotion/inner struggle could be seen as weaker, but I have always believed that it takes a lot of strength to allow yourself to be vulnerable. To ask for help and depend on someone else.

The armour Kurt has built up during the course of his life, has kept him sane and alive when it felt like the whole world was out to get him. He feels intensely, but he does not always feel safe to express that. As a result, he can come across as colder, or aloof. Like nothing gets to him, even when it does.

My headcanon has always been that Blaine is mostly led by his emotion, whereas Kurt is mostly led by his ratio. That does not mean that Blaine doesn't think or Kurt doesn't feel, but that their instinctive reaction to any given scenario would have a different origin. And they know this about each other and they have a mutually beneficial balance of support built between them based on those differences.

And as a result, they have created this safe space between them, where they seamlessly switch between supporter/supportee, based on who needs it most in that particular instance.

3.

Now, when it comes to idiotic or odd scenarios, I haven't written many of those besides the second drabble I did for the Carrot prompt. In that one, I chose Blaine to get a job as a performing carrot, because I genuinely believe that he would do that.

In canon, he performed in shows at amusement parks and says he has developed a thick skin because of it. He has also shown that he does not take himself or his ego too seriously by dressing up in his many, many clubs in s4.

So, in the scenario of the carrot prompt, I imagined that they are fresh out of school and live in financially hard times. Thousands of people are vying for hundreds of jobs in the arts, and I can't imagine Blaine being someone to reject an honest paying job in his chosen field, just because he might look silly doing it. I imagine Kurt to be working at Vogue or something else fashion related, and thus bringing in a steady income. It is not enough to support them both while living in NY, however, and Blaine would never want to feel like a freeloader anyway. Kurt knows and supports this, so while he might poke a little fun at his cute carrot, he is actually really proud of Blaine for not giving up his dream of performing, even if he isn't getting his dream roles yet.

And when Blaine does eventually make it big, he will talk proudly about his early days as a dancing carrot. He worked his way up fair and square, and neither he, nor Kurt, lets anybody shame him for it.

4.

I have some plot outlines written down for a fic where Blaine needs someone to lean on, and Kurt is there to support him. It would be written from Kurt's perspective and because of that pov, the scenario could be interpreted as Blaine=weak/Kurt=strong, which would not be how I intend it.

In that case I'd identify heavily with Blaine due to my own RL struggles with life and mental health. But I'll write Kurt's side, because then I can write someone taking care of their loved one, like I would want someone to support me when I need it.

In the end, whatever I write will always be written for myself. It will be because I have something I need to express. And because my chosen medium for that is fanfiction, I publish it online for others to read.

I hope this answers your question! ;) ♡

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[railroad-migraine]

I was curious if you’d be up for writing some headcanons for Fearne and Laudna? Where reader is just head over heels for them the first time they meet.

I guess another way of saying it is Laudna and Fearne X their biggest SIMP.

Please and thank you, that nicknames they call you post really brightened my day when I first read it

The nicknames post is one of my most favourite things I've written, so thank you!! ❤️

~ Poet

Their Biggest Fan

Fearne

She's become quite used to the awed looks and attitudes towards her when she meets new people - she's quite unusual yet easy on the eye, and people sometimes don't see past her fey heritage. She's polite to you when you first talked one on one, but she noted that familiar glint in your eye. It was clear you were a little infatuated with her.

She may have abused that power ever so slightly by pick pocketing you while you were distracted. The enamoured look you gave her gave her an advantage on stealing from right under your nose.

But over time she learns that you aren't simply drawn to her - you genuinely care and appreciate all her quirks. She feels a little guilty at the realisation and returns what she stole from you earlier, and is amused to learn you already knew she'd taken your item but didn't want to discourage her thieving skills.

Ding ding ding, you've earned her respect and a crush is brewing.

She finds how soft you are for her the most endearing thing ever. You're like a personal cheerleader, and she's so happy to have someone take her side when planning ridiculous schemes, or get her sense of humour.

Fearne starts to make more of an effort to stick by your side, both metaphorically and physically. She supports you judgements and is joined to you at your hip, a new protective urge manifesting itself in her day by day.

Oh, and you compliment the various bits and bobs incorporated into her clothing? She'll happily give you one of her favorite ribbons to wear however you like. Mention that you have a favorite flower? You'll find a mini bouquet and matching flower crown waiting for you the next day. You're cold at night? Little Mister is suddenly crawling into you bed to help remedy that.

All these little acts are Fearne reciprocating your interest in her own way.

Laudna

Her joints creak when she stands before you and daintily holds out a hand to shake your own, as if she were a noble in a formal setting. You're watching her with a careful look, and the tiniest seed of doubt nearly plants itself in her mind - what if you don't like her? what if she frightens her new friend? - but she's pleasantly surprised when you take the hand offered and place a quick kiss on her pale skin.

Okay - her distant heartbeat may have just just fluttered a little, and some colour tints her cheeks.

She's thrilled to have a new companion who doesn't consider her scary-scary. Most people give her a wary once-over before nodding politely, but you seemed to regard her gaunt appearance with natural sincerity. You return some confidence that she hadn't realized she had lost.

Of course it's flattering to have you around and supporting Laudna, complimenting her skills in magic and decorating, conversing with Pâté when he comes out to play, and being patient with her in relation to revealing more about her past.

And soon enough she recognises that you're not simply being her ally, but a true confidant and close friend who is fully committed to her being.

The pin drops and she finally understands: she's just as smitten as you.

Immediately starts working on a little puppet that resembles you as a gift and a way to express her feelings towards you. The unusual woman that you've come to care for never seems satisfied with her masterpiece until you walk in on her sewing on the button eyes.

She's initially embarrassed that you caught a glimpse of her unfinished work. But with your heartfelt reaction, she realises that there's no need to be stressed over earning your respect; She already has it <3

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part one] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPov!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A night out drinking leads to a small misunderstanding with a handsome, yet dangerous man. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,894 words

note: edited this so it could still be read as a reader fic! it's actually a lot of fun writing in first person! hope those who read this enjoy my first bsd fic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

I've experienced a lot of amazing things since I've moved to Japan. A new job in a different country, new co-workers and friends, work parties, themed bars, cafes, and hookups with pretty strangers. There was a long list of great things I've had going on, and a long list of things I've never expected... and being fired from the job I had for a year was not one of them.

"A year of hard work... for nothing," I mumbled bitterly as I sat at the bar with my close friend, and now ex-coworker, Keiko. She was beautiful, with long black hair and brown eyes. She frowned, a sympathetic look on her pretty face as she sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll find something else soon! You have an awesome resume, and you're an amazing worker who can speak English, Japanese AND Spanish... there is totally a place for you out there!"

Keiko has always been supportive and enthusiastic, a really bright and friendly girl who made it her mission to befriend me as soon as I started working with her. She was relentless, and soon enough, I found myself spending many hours with the woman.

"Yeah..." I just mumbled again and she laughed softly.

"It's okay to mope... that's why I brought you here!"

"Yeah, about that," I started, sending Keiko a look as I swiveled the stool so my body faced her. "Why did you bring me here?" As soon as the work day was done, Keiko immediately dragged me to what was clearly a mafia bar. That didn't surprise me, since she was actually dating a mafioso.

A mafioso, who was part of the Port Mafia. It wasn't long after I moved to Yokohama that I started to hear stories about the organization, and was also warned not to cross them. Of course, with my luck, I became best friends with someone who dated someone who was in the Port Mafia. How a sweet girl like Keiko ended up with a man like him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that Taichi adored Keiko, gave her everything she could possibly want and need with the money he makes, and that was just being a normal grunt! Even so, it was dangerous, but Keiko didn't seem to mind.

"I come here with Taichi all the time," Keiko answered, sipping her drink. I turned to sip on my own. "You can't tell me it isn't luxurious." It was. My jaw had dropped to the floor when we first stepped into the very luxurious bar. "Don't worry about it, okay? Drink your sadness away! You're safe here. Since I am Taichi's woman, and you're with me, nothing will happen, okay?"

"Where is Taichi anyway?" I asked, glancing over her shoulder when I spotted a group of men walking in through the entrance. I missed the way the light left Keiko's eyes, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. My eyes were on the men, which in the middle was a man with orange hair, a black hat adorning his head. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes looking at the very handsome man up and down. I swallowed thickly.

"He had a job tonight and couldn't make it. He'll be home to- hey, what are you looking at?" Annoyed at me ignoring her, she turned in her seat, a shocked look on her face before she smiled tightly.

"Taichi! I thought you had an assignment!"

"Hey, babe! We finished early, which was quite surprising, honestly."

The couple embraced and I barely registered the mushy love between the two as I watched the ginger man lead the rest of the group further into the bar. He walked by me, and before I knew it, dark blue eyes were staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"The hell are you looking at?" he sneered and my face turned red, heart dropping in my chest.

"No one! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, quickly turning back around and facing the bar.

"Tch. Whatever," the man only responded before walking off.

"You look like a cherry," Taichi said, clearly amused. I sent him a half-hearted glare, Keiko slapping his chest lightly.

"Be nice to her. She got fired today."

"Ohh, that sucks. If you need help-"

"She won't take it," Keiko said with a huff. "Stubborn ass."

I rolled my eyes at her, biting my lip nervously as I fiddled with my glass. "So uh... who was that guy? With the hat?"

Taichi blinked. "Oh, that's Chuuya Nakahara."

"Is he part of the Port Mafia?"

Taichi barked out a laugh, Keiko giggling softly behind her hand.

"Baby... he's an executive. Chuuya works closely with the leader of the Port Mafia."

"And I work under Chuuya," Taichi finished, amused at how wide my eyes have gotten at the answer.

"You mean to tell me... I pissed off... an executive member..." I was dismayed, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hmm, probably. Don't go home alone tonight," Taichi grinned as I balked, clearly having fun torturing me.

"Taichi! Babe, don't listen to him."

I gulped nervously, downing the rest of my drink before signaling to the bartender to get me another one.. "R-right..." Despite my better judgment, I turned my head, looking towards the obvious VIP section of the bar. Chuuya sat with some other grunts, a glass of what seemed to be red wine in his hand. Of course, his eyes found mines yet again and I whipped my head back around. Fuck, I did it again! I quickly downed the newly made drink, unaware of Chuuya's eyes narrowing as he watched me.

"Nooo, do you have to go?" a drunk Keiko whined as she latched onto my arm, a forever amused Taichi watching on. "Don't leave me with hiiiiiiim."

"I want to go home, dammit," I huffed, successfully peeling her off of me and handing her to her boyfriend. "I have to start job hunting tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, I do feel better and I love you but... I'm tired."

"Ugh, you are such an old lady!" Keiko whined again and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to start walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, you too. Please get her home safe, Taichi."

"I wouldn't count on it~"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, leaving the two behind as I left the bar. I stepped out into the cool night air, shivering a bit as I closed my cardigan tightly around me. I wore a simple but cute outfit; a black dress with burgundy tights underneath, black flats on my feet and my favorite tan cardigan over the entire outfit. It helped me fight off a bit of the cold, but as I started to walk down the block, I grabbed my phone to start searching through my usual rideshare app.

I didn't get far. My phone cluttered to the ground as it fell out my hands, a gasp leaving my mouth as I was slammed against the nearby brickwall of a narrow, dark alleyway.

"Who the fuck are you?" a familiar voice hissed and I'm shocked to find Chuuya Nakahara glaring daggers at me, his strong hands pinning my arms against the wall. He growled when I didn't answer. "Answer me! Who sent you here?!"

"N-No one!" I cried out, shaking like a leaf. Of course, of course I would be confronted by a fucking high level member of one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan. "I swear, I just came here with my friend."

Chuuya growled again and he flipped me around, pressing my front against the wall. "Stay still," he grunted, and my face started to heat up as I felt his gloved hands quickly feel along my body. He was frisking me, and I gulped when he shoved his hand under my dress, producing the knife I had strapped to my thigh.

"I carry that to protect myself," I immediately explained, Chuuya turning me around again to face him. His eyes were still narrowed, staring me down as if trying to figure out what the hell I was up to.

"And the bouncer didn't pat you down?" he questioned and I shook my head quickly.

"No, he didn't pat me or Keiko down."

"Tch, that's Taichi's woman," he said, though he still looked at me with narrow eyes, hesitating a bit before he turned my knife in his hand, handing it back to me hilt first. "You sure know how to make yourself look suspicious."

I cringed a bit as I strapped my knife to my thigh strap again. I missed how Chuuya's eyes lingered, him licking his lips. "That's my fault I... I know I was staring..." I could feel my face heat up again and I couldn't even look Chuuya in his face. "S-sorry if I creeped you out. I don't mean any harm. Keiko brought me here 'cause I got fired and she wanted to help me feel better..."

"Hm," was his only reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you do to fuck up?"

My mouth fell and I sputtered as I tried to come up with the words. "What do you mean?! I didn't fuck up!" I protested. "It literally came out of nowhere! I worked my ass off all year, only to get fired 'cause I wasn't what they needed anymore. Fucking bullshit."

Chuuya was amused by my little vent, snickering a bit as he gave me a quick look up and down. "I'm sure it wasn't your winning personality."

I scoffed. "Says the one that shoved a random woman against a wall?! That hurt, you bastard!"

Chuuya raised his eyebrows at me, and I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh no. Fuck, I forgot who I was talking to.

Chuuya snickered again, his eyes flashing in amusement. He stepped closer to me, making me press back against the wall again. Chuuya leaned his face close to mine, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Be careful who you talk to like that," he hummed, and I shivered despite feeling some of his body heat. "Someone might just cut out your tongue for talking back like that. Me? Well, it'd be a waste, especially when I think of all the things I could make you do with it."

I squeaked, the heat never leaving my face as I stared at Chuuya with a puzzled expression on my face. The sudden switch up was giving me whiplash... and lowkey turning me on. "I..." I stuttered, looking away and finally noticing my phone still on the ground. "Crap, I hope it's not broken."

I rushed over to pick my phone up, ignoring Chuuya's hard stare on me. I looked over my phone, sighing in relief when I saw that it had sustained no damages.

Chuuya then stepped up to me, jerking his head back towards the bar before walking off. "Let me take you home. Take that as an apology for being so rough on you."

I blinked. "Um..."

"Hurry up!"

"Okay!" I squeaked and followed after the man quickly, chewing on my lip as I asked myself... what the fuck was I doing? Am I really about to get inside this man's car? He was a stranger! Who frisked me! Let alone, he is clearly a dangerous man.

I must be insane.

"Tell me," Chuuya started and I was dumbfounded as he approached a rather cool looking motorcycle. No way. "What the hell were you being so creepy for?" He turned to me and asked, an all-knowing smirk on his face. I blushed deeply. Of course, he already was able to figure it out once he realized that I wasn't a threat.

"No reason," I huffed out, earning a low laugh as Chuuya grabbed the only helmet I could see. I looked at him confused, gasping when he unceremoniously placed the helmet over my head. "What about you?"

"I don't need it," Chuuya simply answered before he finally mounted his bike. "Come on, you little liar. Hop on."

I couldn't help but stare, my mouth going dry as I took in the image of this handsome bastard with his bike. The engine roared as he turned it on, revving it a bit and making me make a mess in my panties.

"Hey, ya done eyefucking me, dollface?"

I sputtered. "I was NOT eyefucking you!" I stormed over to the bike, glaring at the grinning bastard as I climbed onto the bike behind him.

Chuuya snorted. "Yeah, like you weren't eyefucking me earlier in the bar," he retorted, easily reaching behind him to grab my wrists, pulling me against his back as he wrapped my arms around him. I was stunned silent, from his words, and his actions and the fact that his back felt so solid.... and he smelled so good...

"I was not..." I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his back. "Shut the fuck up."

He laughed darkly, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Where do you live?" Chuuya asked and I hesitantly told him my address. "I know where that is. Hold on."

"You do? It's on the other side of the city," I said and Chuuya just chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder and smirking at me.

"And who exactly runs this city?"

I clamped my mouth shut, his eyes staring into mine. I blushed and looked away from him. He turned his head back around with an amused laugh, the engine revving as he took off on his bike.

"Hold tight, dollface!"

He didn't have to tell me twice, my arms tightening around his torso as he sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. It was scary, but also so fucking exhilarating. My heart was thudding in my chest, my eyes watering because of the wind. Still, I kept them open, wanting to watch the world blur by us. Chuuya made a sharp, right turn, making me scream while he laughed loudly. 

"Man up!" he yelled at me.

"Stop driving like a crazy person!" I yelled back.

I didn't see the large, almost evil smirk that grew on Chuuya's face. Didn't see him licking his lips excitedly as he eyed a rather tall building coming up ahead.

"Tell me, dollface," he hollered back at me, revving the engine and I gulped as I held him tighter, his bike going faster. A bad feeling started to settle in my stomach, balking when he asked his next question. "Do you want to defy gravity?"

I didn't have time to answer, not when I finally realized that we were heading right towards the side of the building. I couldn't even scream, fear striking me as I suddenly started to see red, body jostling as Chuuya maneuvered the bike to jump in the air.... before landing perfectly on the side of the building and continuing vertically up towards the sky.

"Don't let go!" Chuuya sneered. Like that was ever going to happen.

I didn't dare turn my head to look down, my wide eyes staring up into the night sky as we made it closer to the top of the building. I couldn't even think straight, my body just running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

"Ch-Chuuya!" I gasped out sharply, the bike finally making it to the roof of the building. Chuuya didn't slow down though, only barreling towards the edge and I started to panic. "Chuuya! What are you doing?!"

Chuuya only snickered, revving the engine once more before sending the bike flying off the edge of the building. I squeak and screw my eyes shut, pressing my face against the middle of his back. I didn't want to watch us plummet to our doom.

"Hey, idiot, open your eyes."

I whimpered and shook my head. "N-No..."

Chuuya sucked his teeth. "Just open your eyes! You'll regret it if you don't."

Biting my lip, I wanted a moment before I lifted my head up and opened my eyes, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I looked around me.

We were still floating in the air, biking moving through the sky. The City of Yokohama was lit up beautifully underneath us. I looked over, seeing the ocean at a distance, the ferris wheel lit up and spinning slowly. My mouth had fallen open, eyes wide in wonder. Chuuya was looking back at me, a triumphant grin on his face.

We made it to my apartment and Chuuya stood over me, an amused smile on his face as he watched me melt on the ground after I got off his bike.

"That was intense..." I mumbled, still feeling the effects of flying through the fucking sky. "I shouldn't even be surprised that you're gifted, with the power that you have already in the Port Mafia."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, huh," Chuuya said smugly, gloved hands stuffed in his coat pockets. I laughed softly, slowly standing up with my shaky legs. He took one look at my frazzled state and he grew even more smug. "That's a cute look on you, though if I really had my way with you, you wouldn't even be able to stand."

My face turned hot, sputtering as I tried to respond, but I had nothing to even say. Because the thought of actually inviting Chuuya inside and--

"Fuck..." I breathed out softly, looking at the man standing before me. His eyes didn't leave mine, the heat in them making a shiver go down my spine. "Do you... want to come inside?"

Chuuya fixed his hat on top of his head. "Lead the way, dollface."

"So... your ability lets you control gravity?" I asked once we made it inside the elevator of my apartment building. We were going fifteen stories up, after Chuuya parked his bike safely, of course.

"To put it simply, yes," Chuuya answered, stepping closer to me. I gasped softly when he grabbed my chin, the leather of his glove pressing against my skin. "But we're not here to talk about that." He pressed himself against me fully, leaning his face in until his lips hovered just above mine. I shivered, looking at him with hooded eyes. "This will be a one time thing, dollface."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Of course," I replied just as the elevator stopped on my floor, doors sliding open. I grinned at him. "So let's make it count."

He liked the sound of that, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the elevator. I rushed to my apartment, grabbing my keys and hurriedly unlocking the door before opening it.

The door slammed shut as Chuuya immediately pressed me against it, his lips on mine in a fervorous kiss. I knocked his hat off his head as I ran my fingers through Chuuya's hair, moaning when his hands started to roam all over my body.

"Fuck..." I moaned softly when Chuuya started to kiss down my neck, squealing when he squeezed on my ass.

"Damn... you won't be able to fucking sit right, either," he growled against my neck as he massaged my ass and thighs. "Let's go."

Groaning when he moved himself away from me, I rushed to lead Chuuya to my bedroom, our clothes coming off in the process and making a trail on the floor.

It didn't take us too long to start really going at it, our lust fueling us to incredible heights. Chuuya held my hips tightly with his leather clad hands, thrusting his hard cock in and out of my soaking pussy.

He was fucking me hard, my body just sprawled on the bed as I moaned and grunted from the pleasure this man was giving me. "Fuck, fuck, Chuuya!" I whined, making the man grin widely as he kept his pace. Sweat covered both of our bodies, moans and deep growls mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"That's right, dollface, ride me," Chuuya smirked up at me, now on his back as I bounced up and down on his cock. His hands were right on my hips, his eyes going back and forth between  watching my bouncing breasts and watching his cock disappear inside my heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled, thrusting up particularly hard and making me toss my head back, screaming when I finally fucking cum.

"Oh my God!" I gasped sharply, still squeezing around him as I began to slow down. "Oh fuck... it's so good," I moaned, reaching out and hooking my finger into Chuuya's black choker. I pulled and he pushed himself up, lips meeting mine in a messy kiss.

I moaned against his mouth, still slowly riding him as his hands ran up and down my sides, the leather cool against my skin. Then, Chuuya placed his hands on my hips, and with a mischievous little smirk, he licked his lips. Immediately, my body started to feel a little bit lighter, and Chuuya started to effortlessly bounce me up and down on his cock, 100% controlling my body with his ability.

"Chuuya..." I moaned his name, head lolling back. He continued to maneuver my body, little grunts and moans leaving his own mouth as he worked to reach his own pleasure, and mine.

I came again, tears falling down my face from the intense pleasure, and that was enough for Chuuya to pull me off of him completely, putting me on my knees before him on the bed. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and he pushed my head down, stuffing his cock in my mouth.

"Take it," he growled, his hands in my hair and using it to push my head up and down as he fucked my mouth. I moaned around him, a new wave of pleasure washing over me as I let the mafioso use me as he wanted. Soon enough, he exploded into my mouth, and I made sure I swallowed all of him.

"Fuck, that's hot..." Chuuya breathed out when I opened my mouth to show him that I did so. "You're such a good girl, dollface."

That made me flustered and I looked away shyly, earning a chuckle from him. I looked over when I felt him get up from the bed, thinking that he would leave. Instead, he just gave me a look. "Where is your shower?"

We showered together,  which took longer than needed because Chuuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. I was surprised when he climbed into bed with me afterwards, allowing me to cuddle against him as we slowly fell asleep.

I wasn't surprised though, when I woke up the next morning, sore and alone. I didn't get too upset about it, though. Chuuya laid it out clear and I accepted it and moved on.

I sat on my dining room table, looking through the newspaper as I sipped on my morning coffee. I was looking for a new job and figured looking at the local ads wouldn't hurt.

"Hm... let's see..." I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my knife. I ran the tip of it down the paper, stopping when one particular ad stuck out. "Hm... the Armed Detective Agency, huh? Interesting..." I set my knife down, staring at the ad as I took another careful sip of coffee.

-End

[beneathashadytree]

(1/2)I just read your Bertholdt piece with the reader forgiving him after being taken to Marley and it was beautiful 🥺 Can I please request a continuation of it, with the reader already pregnant in the timeline of s4? Bertholdt takes s/o with him during the festival but he excuses themselves from attending the play as his s/o begins to feel unwell. Cue the Scouts and Eren's attack on Marley a short while later. In the ongoing chaos the Scouts manage to spot Bertholdt and their friend

(2/2)-who has been kidnapped for years and is now 9 months pregnant to their shock. Bertholdt's s/o starts to go into labor due to the stress unfolding at once when their former squad and friends spot them. How would things go down between all of them, with Bertholdt having to help his s/o through a difficult labor while simultaneously facing their past choices in the face, due to being seen by their (former?) friends now. Angst and lots of bitterswetness please. Thank you so much ❤️🤧♥️

BITTERSWEET (PART 2) - BERTHOLDT HOOVER X READER

Warnings : lots of curse words, one implication of sex, mentions of childbirth, reader is female!

Genre : angst to fluff

Word count : 3.8K words

Synopsis : Bertholdt now knows what it means to face the demons of your past.

Click here to read part 1

Additional notes : In all honesty, I'm not a fan of having to write continuations of my old works, because it usually causes a burn-out, since I write them as one shots to prevent that from happening in the first place. But since I was a fan of the idea, I tried my best to do it justice---but I'm not entirely sure if it's one of my best works 😅 I left it with a sort-of open ending by the way! Hope you enjoy this, and your feedback is most welcomed!

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

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Masterlist

"Are you sure it's alright for you to be out? You're reaching the end of the third trimester, and you really shouldn't be exhausting yourself."

The palpable worry apparent in his voice caught her attention, and she turned to find him frowning and scratching his stubble. He looked as though the mere thought of her even stepping out of his sight would send him into a fit of anxiety---which probably wasn't far off from the truth.

Doing her best to give him a reassuring smile, she took his hand in hers, "Bertl, the doctor said it was fine, so don't sweat it, 'mkay?" her thumb drawing comforting circles on the back of his palm, she began to look around, drinking in the flamboyant sights, vibrant colors, and lively chatter that surrounded her from every direction, sighing contentedly, "Plus, it's been so long since I've seen everyone so happy. I couldn't miss out."

Her boyfriend bit his lip anxiously, still looking nervous despite the fact that he towered over everyone with his height, "I don't know... sweetheart, there's a lot of people around, you know. You could get knocked over."

She chuckled, "Honestly, I'm so close to having them pop out of me that if I did fall, I'd probably roll over."

"You're going to send me into a heart attack if you keep saying stuff like that," Bertholdt exasperatedly said, much to her amusement.

"Look, there's Reiner and the others!" she waved excitedly, watching as the kids stumbled over their own feet in a hurry to wave back at the girl who'd snatched the heart of the brunette they idolized.

It only took them a couple of seconds before they diverted their attention back to stalls that they practically drooled over, and the girl let out a giggle, knowing well that they'd use their sad faces to lure Reiner into the trap of buying them food from every single stand---and Porco and Pieck provided them the support they needed to rope him in.

"Reiner always looks happy with the warrior candidates," Bertholdt mused softly as he walked with his lover, arms hooked as he did his best to let her lean her weight onto him, "I mean, it's rare enough to see him with a smile nowadays..."

Noticing the drop in his expression, she nodded grimly, "Yeah. It sometimes worries me," a bittersweet laugh escaped her, "Can't believe the man I resented is now one I fret over."

Bertholdt awkwardly looked away, not meeting her eyes as he pretended to inspect the fabrics of the exported dresses in front of him, and she almost cooed at how unconsciously endearing he sometimes was when he felt "a pang of jealousy" as he'd once embarrassedly called it.

"You should really stop worrying when you're my handsome man," she clicked her tongue, lightly nudging him with her elbow and earning a blush from him, fingers dropping from the skirt he'd been holding up, "It's not like I've ever stopped loving you."

"Not even when you found out the truth?" he asked hesitantly, and she shook her head so quickly it left no room for doubt.

Before he could open his mouth and ask for a kiss, she visibly winced, stilling in place. As she grimaced, one of her hands reached up to her belly, filling the already-worriesome man with concern as he tried to eye her for any symptoms.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain? Is the baby okay?" he rushed all at once, dropping her arm and turning to face her properly, his hands flying to gingerly touch her protruding stomach, the girl's breathing growing heavier for a few seconds at a time before relaxing altogether.

He frowned at her lack of reply, reaching up to touch her forehead, "You're warm. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

With an unsure shake of her head, she huffed, barely speaking up, "I'm not feeling too well," opting to lean against the wooden planks of a jewelry, her actions began to catch the attention of passers-by, which sent Bertholdt further into a panic, not knowing what to do when she wasn't letting him on on what exactly she was feeling.

Right in the midst of his frenzy, a hand clamped on his shoulder, and he whipped around, a rare look of annoyance on his face, asking a quick, "Is it urgent?" to Porco, who arched his brow at the uncharacteristic attitude the normally-reserved man had donned.

"Commander Magath wants us to head to the front lines of the audience," he pointed at their designated seats, "Your girlfriend should have a seat with the other Eldian citizens."

"She's sick now," Bertholdt snapped, ruffling his hair in frustration, "I can't leave her behind. Can't this wait? It's just a goddamn play."

Taken aback as the girl began to sway, Porco furrowed his brows, "I mean, I can try to pull a few strings, but I don't think the government would turn a blind eye to their killing machine being absent."

Nodding without even looking back at the blonde, the taller of the two pressed his fingers to her wrist, trying to measure her pulse as best as he could, ushering her to the nearest seat possible, ignoring how the area began to gradually clear out of the people who were now so eager to watch the upcoming much-awaited Tybur performance unfold.

The worried father-to-be couldn't care less about the cacophony of sounds coming from the direction of the stage. He'd completely tuned every single one of his senses out to anything other than attending to his seemingly-ill woman.

As he laid her down on a creaky bench (the only available option, given the fact that they were all alone in the middle of a street), he grew more worried as she gritted her teeth, a look of pain flashing across her face for a few moments before she exhaled a heavy puff of air.

"My stomach, it just hurts," she winced, no doubt feeling another tug of inexplicable pain, clamoring to take his hand in hers, "And... I don't know, I just feel uneasy. I can't really describe it. All I know is that everything feels suffocating right now, and I feel as though I'm taking multiple blows to the gut."

The warrior groaned, "Great. Just when every damn doctor is out of reach, we face an issue when you've had a completely stable pregnancy so far," he brushed her hair back from her sticky forehead, wishing there was anything he could do to ease her discomfort, maybe by bringing her temperature down first---but then again, as intelligent as he was, he was still powerless without a medical degree and all the necessary tools that came with the job.

"It's fine, it'll probably pass in a bit," giving him a weak smile, she squeezed his hand, "We have to remain level-headed so we could properly take action if needed."

It was all she managed to say, before multiple rumbles shook the earth beneath their feet, stunning Bertholdt into a shock. He stilled in his place, eyes widening as, mere moments later, the abandoned festival road filled with the sounds of zipping wires and shots being fired, as black dots raced past them before they could even register it. Even the woman barely noticed the agonizing pain as it came once again, instead finding herself hypnotized by the familiar sight and sound she could never forget.

"Wait, is that... Bertholdt?" a yell came from somewhere amidst that buzzing cloud of black bodysuits, metal armor clinking as they slammed forcefully against the side of the building, "Fuck, Jean, Sasha, come here now, it's that son of a bitch!"

No sooner did the venomous words escape his mouth did two figures come tumbling down, unceremoniously trying to scramble as fast as they could in the direction of the two in the middle of the road.

"Is that... her?" Sasha gasped, breaking into a sprint, only briefly glancing at her companion, "Connie, tell me I'm imagining things."

"You're not," ash-brown hair in a mullet now, the boy they'd once known as the brash Jean stood almost head to head with Bertholdt, a Connie with much longer hair on his other side, murderous eyes landing on him, "That bastard kidnapped her, and don't you fucking dare forget it."

Bertholdt didn't know how to react, beads of prespiration running down his neck. Half of him wanted to obliterate them for even thinking of showing up, certain of the fact that they came with not-so-innocent intent, while the other half of him was too busy worrying to death about how to shield his heavily pregnant partner from any harm that might befall them in the process. He couldn't afford to be hasty or careless, yet all he wanted to do was throw himself in the face of the people who now despised him in order to protect his small family.

"So you knocked her up, after you've had your way with her?" Connie's face held the most disgusted look he'd ever seen, words laced with posion as he seemed to wish death upon him the very instant he saw their old friend with their hand on a large belly, "You're really scummy, aren't you?"

The man's eyes widened, only now coming to realize the implications of their word, "No! It's not---"

The sickening sound of a crunch resounded through the street as Jean's fist met his nose, the pounding ache almost instant the moment his punch landed on Bertholdt's face---bitterly, he thought to himself that this truly wasn't anything unlike him; in fact, he'd have been surprised if Jean hadn't hot-headedly tried to beat him to a pulp with his own bare hands, in a way to serve justice by himself. And it was ironic how, after being someone he'd relied on and looked up to, it was only a matter of time before he became his greatest enemy.

"Please," Sasha harshly whispered as the taller brunette groaned in pain on the ground, "Just shut the fuck up, you spineless coward. I can't stand to hear your voice. "

Gritting his teeth, Jean squeezed his eyes shut, "You're the reason why Armin's dead, when you never should've fucking lived," grabbing him by the collar, fury blazing in his eyes, he brought the man with the crooked nose up to his height, "Tell me, how is it fair you get to live a happy life, when his had to end early because of you?"

A whine of pain interrupted their deadly eye contact, causing them to turn with concerned facial expressions to the blanched girl who now was clinging onto Connie's hand desperately, knuckles turning white. Huffing for a couple of seconds, she winced before speaking up in a wobbly voice.

"As much as I understand where you're all coming from, I don't think this is the time for it, when I'm about to give birth to a child."

"You're what?!" a collective shout came from, and Bertholdt was once again dropped to the floor as Jean recoiled from the shock, before he was scrambling to get up and run to her side, worry overtaking his features.

When he sat on the dirt road, he pushed Connie and Sasha's looming figures aside, "How? When? Is it---"

"Not fine obviously," she snapped, before sighing, "Just... get me a doctor. In any damn way, the contractions are getting closer."

"Must've been that pain," he muttered under his breath, concluding that her seeming-illness was just her contractions, "Did your water break?"

"Obviously, considering the fact that I've soiled my dress and that I'm having faster contractions?" she exaspseratedly said, realizing that Bertholdt was growing more panicked than she was, and losing common sense in the process, "Stress isn't good for a pregnant woman, and that's all I've been feeling for the past ten minutes, for fuck's sake."

"We just had to help you out," Sasha frowned, "He's the bastard who did this to you---"

The girl cried out in pain, interrupting Sasha's protests as another contraction ripped through her body, sending her muscles spasming and urging the flustered Bertholdt to run away from his old comrades and in the direction of the main streets that slowly started flooding with people, probably in hopes of finding any stray doctor amidst the chaos that had ensued in an almost-apocalyptic manner. He yelled out a plea for them to make sure she stays put, to which Connie almost hisses at him that he has no right to give them any orders, despite the fact that he still worryingly watched over the shivering girl.

"Sasha," she croaked out, causing the girl to hurriedly clasp her hands, before launching into a ramble as Jean took her other side, gently brushing her hair away from her forehead.

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here, as soon as the baby's born we'll take off and run before Erwin picks us up with the airship, and the we'll be back to Paradis in no time and---"

With what little energy she could muster, she flicked the girl's cheek, "Sasha. This was all consensual."

She blinked twice, before the trio snapped up with an incredulous, "Huh?!"

Another wave of contractions took over, this time causing her to hunch over as much as she possibly could with her bulging tummy, squeezing the girl's hands almost hard enough to break a few bones, and she must've had incredible strength to not even utter a word of discomfort---or maybe she was too shocked by her previous confession  to speak.

After the pain had momentarily subsided (or at the very least became tolerable), the girl spoke up again, "He's my boyfriend."

"Back the fuck up," Connie's eyes were comically wide as he asked, "You like that... thing? You wanted to carry his child?'

If she hadn't been screaming her lungs seconds later, she would've even laughed at his reaction. Heaving and panting, she could only limply wave at Jean, "Doctor's not gonna make it in time. Stand near my feet."

"Wait, what?" he went a few shades paler, gaping as she pulled her skirt upwards with the help of the still-in-a-bit-of-a-daze Sasha, and the bearded young man staggered at the sight.

"You're gonna have to deliver my baby."

Before he could even utter a word of protest, another blood-curdling scream escaped her, and he had to swallow down the urge to pass out, diving between her knees with a silent prayer that he wouldn't heave his stomach's contents out.

***

Cooing against her chest and hastily swaddled in a makeshift towel made of celebratory fabrics sold in a stall they knew would never see another owner, the baby was blissfully silent after having cried his little lungs out for the past minutes he'd been brought into this world. Though it might've felt suffocating under different circumstances and with different people, having the trio she remembered as being rambunctious surrounding her as quiet as mice was a heartwrenching sight she never expected she'd see.

"He's so tiny," Sasha sniffled, eyes wide open in wonder and awe as she observed him breathe silently, "Not like his giant tree-ass dad."

Jean lightly tapped her upside the head, "Language," he grumbled un a low voice, "There's a child."

Connie whispered as he lightly brushed the baby's small tuft of dark brown hair, "Wonder how things ended up like this."

As she leaned back against Sasha's firm body, she sighed, "I just learnt that we're not that much better off to be persecuting him."

"He's the reason your parents are dead, not to mention why we couldn't see you for years and mistook you for dead," Jean dead-panned, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the newborn with conflicted eyes, "We're retaliating after their attacks."

"They were only kids, Jean, and he thought taking me along was the best decision, meanwhile this attack you're speaking of..." she drifted off, shaking her head, "I can't tell you he's a good man, because that's subjective. All I can tell you is that I can now, at the very least, understand him enough to forgive him."

"We're not that kind, though," Sasha smiled sadly at her, "Not all of us have it in our hearts to be that forgiving."

"You guys have every right to be bitter," the exhausted woman slumped against her old friend, "It was my choice to get with him. You befriending him is not an obligation."

Just as Connie sniffled, ready to launch into a heartfelt speech, a tall figure hurtled towards them, no control over his legs as he nearly crashed into his unsuspecting form.

"I got the doctor, he's right----here..." coming to a halt in front of her with his nose bandaged up and pointing at a man whose silhouette they could vaguely make out, Bertholdt grew quiet after he let out a small gasp, slowly and very carefully taking a seat where Sasha had sat, right behind her and looking down at the baby who was the perfect mix of their features, ever so delicate-looking and adorable.

"Can you believe we made him?" his girlfriend whispered, doting eyes resting on their son's peaceful sleeping face, "Look at him."

Gulping, Bertholdt tried and failed to speak steadily, "He's so precious. He came when I wasn't looking, huh?"

With a grateful but tired smile, she nodded, "Jean helped me birth him. As kind as ever."

The brunette in question looked away, a nice reddish hue to his face as he grew flustered under her praise, "It's just the bare minimum. It's not like you gave me a choice eitherways."

"Still, thank you," Bertholdt's words were sincere, though Jean's shoulders remained tense as he proceeded to ignore the man he considered the world's filthiest traitor, "For taking care of her while I was gone."

"Better be the last I see of you," he mumbled, but the way Bertholdt flinched a little told his girlfriend that he'd overheard the venomous words.

Before she could break any possible spat that might occur between the two, and without even taking notice of the fact that the doctor Bertholdt had dragged along with him was nowhere to be found anyways, Connie's voice interrupted.

"It's Erwin's signal," he scowled, head raised as he glanced up at the sky, looking for something that the couple couldn't see, "We've got to go, can't waste any time. The plan should be executed by now."

With a nod, the other two gathered their haphazardly strewn equipment from the ground, dusting them as they reattached them to their suits. The new parents watching over their child who slept soundly against the woman's chest with pure adoration, they paid them no mind as the three began to squabble in hushed voices over something.

Soon enough, the small family was shaken out of their little world as the familiar sound of ODM gear cut through the night air.

"Get to somewhere safe," Sasha gave the vague advice as she lifted her makeshift gun, though the couple knew that the words were directed at them all, even if she'd internally wished the man to drop dead, "This part of the internment zone probably won't be safe for a long while."

With a nod, the young father agreed, "We're probably going to move out to the edge of the town."

Connie's voice grew further away as the metal wire began to pull him up, a small smile on his face without looking back, "And who knows, we might be back to see the little kid someday."

Choking on her words as she felt a deep feeling of melancholy settle down inside her, she said, "Y-yeah, I think he'd like that."

Having stayed behind for last, Jean paused as he adjusted the buckles on his gear, a chilly look directed towards Bertholdt, before he turned back to the girl he'd once considered a close friend, features softening, "If anything ever happens, you've got a home back in Paradis. With us."

Before she could even manage a gentle laugh and reassure him that as much as she appreciated his offer, she implicitly trusted her boyfriend, his mullet was soon up in the air without a second glance, what seemed like a conflicted look on his face before he vanished into the distance, the sight of the inseparable trio after all these years quickly becoming nothing more than a mere memory to her.

And Bertholdt didn't quite know what to do with himself. Fret over every single detail about the birth that he'd missed in his hurry to find a doctor? Turn his old comrades' vitriol over and over in his mind and have it haunt his nights as their hatred always did to him? Dote over his lover's limp form and shower her in affection and affirmation, in hopes of reassuring both her and himself?

He didn't know. He never quite knew what the right thing to do was. His moral compass was every bit as fucked up as the people he'd considered devils claimed it was; that much he knew for sure. It was his daily internal battle; figuring out which path to take in the smallest aspects of life, and whether or not it would be considered the "right" decision further down the line.

A soft cry interrupted his whirring thoughts, and he was shaken out of his stupor by a small fist curling around his pinky finger. Pale green eyes welled up with tears he couldn't stop from coming, and he could only do his best to hold back the sobs as his newborn son clung to him as best as he could. His newborn son; the life he'd created with the woman he loved moreso than life itself---the one person he wanted to become the man he never was able to be.

"We'll be fine, right?" he choked out, rubbing his stubble against her cheek gently, earning a fond giggle as he embraced her even tighter from behind, the world apart from the small bench they sat on falling into background noise, "We're gonna be okay, yeah?"

"Silly man," she breathed out, eyes fluttering shut as her breath began to even out, her sheer exhaustion taking the reigns of her consciousness, "I didn't doubt for a second that we will."

After the encounter he refused to question further, he remembered all his failures, shortcomings, and sins that left his nose banged up, and a sour taste in his mouth, like the detestable aftertaste of medicine that never quite wore off. But when she dozed off in his arms, safe and sound with his newborn son that he already adored to pieces within mere minutes of meeting his small self that almost mirrored the couple, he felt an odd warmth and happiness overlap inside of him with his jumbled emotions.

He could only describe the feeling as being bittersweet.

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