#if you call him something else Please put in the tags i need more silly nicknames for him

[ihrthoney]

racing heart

pairings: single!dad draken x f!reader

warnings: angst if you squint, fluff! slightly suggestive towards the end?

word count: 1.8k

an: the awaited part two to heartbeat! might make this into a mini series!

1. i tried to choose a baby name that wasn’t used in the series yet… then i just now remembered.. sanzu haruchiyo 😭 2. haru means (this is from google please don’t bully me LMAO) light, sun, joy, spring. i thought drakens baby would be his light & joy :)

(tagging those who wanted a part 2: @aetheriis @lonelyheart-clubband @honeipie @peachymmk98 )

Quickly touching up your look, you were accessorizing when you froze hearing three knocks on your door. Looking at the time, Ken was 15 minutes early.

Ken had, ever so sweetly, asked to take you on another date, tonight being your third. He was supposed to pick you up at 7:30 and take you to see the fireworks but you start to question the night’s plans when you open the door.

“Hey, beautiful, I’m so sorry, I know it’s extremely last minute but I’m going to have to raincheck our date.” Taking in the fact that he was carrying his son, you could put two and two together, albeit a little bummed, seeing his son made any sadness disappear.

“Emma got called into work, something about an emergency, and we don’t hire babysitters, the only ones who watch Haru are our friends and they’re all unfortu-” Understandingly, you reassuringly caressed his arm, “You don’t have to explain yourself, I understand. Life happens, you’re a parent. Haru always comes first, no question.”

Ken’s rambling ceases and he can’t help but stare at you, the need to kiss you so strong but he doesn't want to confuse his son. ”If it’s okay with you, can we hang here for a while?” There’s no doubt in your mind, he was always welcome in your home. Moving aside as a sign for his entrance, you tell him to make himself at home while you change your clothes.

“I am so sorry again, you look absolutely gorgeous, I promise to take you out soon pretty.” Waving him off to hide your blushing, you quickly make your way to your room.

Draken can’t help but feel guilty, he wanted to spend some alone time with you (to kiss you breathless of course). After your first date, he had realized, stupidly, that he never got your number. A squealing Hina excitedly gave him your number, hoping to hear about your next date.

On your second date, Ken took you to the aquarium. Truthfully, he enjoyed your reactions to the animals more than the animals themself. The awe on your face as you point out all the animals, making a game of saying every animal that was close together was “us in another life”. It was silly but he wouldn’t dare to ruin your fun, instead joining you in pointing out animals.

After the date, he treated you to a lovely lunch, after a horrifying(ly safe) drive on his bike. To say you were terrified was an understatement, but to be fair you had never been on a motorcycle. However, the pleading look on his face and the constant reassurances made you hop on. Ken had the nerve to laugh at your anxious state, saying you could hold onto him as tight as you wanted. Had you not been genuinely afraid, you would’ve scoffed at his smug grin but hold on for dear life you did.

As you were changing into comfier clothes, it suddenly dawned on you that you were meeting Ken’s baby for the first time. The realization that his baby could, possibly, not like you scared you more than riding on his bike.

Babies tend to sense the intentions of people, whether it was true or not, the thought scared you. Never would you ever want to cause any discomfort for Haru, so if being around you made him uncomfortable you wouldn’t hesitate to keep your distance.

The thought made you sad as you really liked Ken, but he was a parent before anything else. There’s not a chance you would choose your own feelings over his baby’s.

A knock on your door brings you back, a worried Draken on the other side of the door, “Are you okay in there? It’s been a little while.” Hurriedly, you opened the door and somehow the raven looked even more worried than he sounded.

“I’m good! Sorry, just got lost in thought.” Adorably, his brows wrinkled in confusion but you shake your head in dismissal. Before you could pass him, Ken gently grabs your arm to pause your movements, “Talk to me, pretty.”

Draken had such an understanding aura that it was hard to keep anything from him, despite trying to avoid his stare you look towards your living room, “What about Haru?”

Like the man he is, Ken turns your face back to his, moving his hand from your arm to your waist, pulling you close to him, “I put him down for a nap, what’s bothering you?”

Sighing in defeat, you give in (not that you tried all that hard to fight him), “I’m afraid Haru isn’t going to like me. I know it’s silly but I’m genuinely worried I’m going to frighten him.” Draken can’t help but kiss your frown away, it warms his heart that you care about his baby’s opinion despite him being merely 2 years old.

“Sweetheart, sometimes, Haru doesn’t even like me. Don’t laugh! I’m serious, he will scream if I touch a certain cup, apparently only his mama can touch it. Even if he doesn’t warm up to you right away, he will eventually.” At this point, Ken is tightly embracing you, hoping you can hear how fast his heart beats for you. Just as tightly, you hug him back, laying your head right above his racing heart.

You both stay in each other’s hold for a little while, until Ken offers, “How about we watch a movie and I make us some dinner, okay?”

Looking up, you jokingly ask “Like a date?”

“If you’ll have us, of course.”

How could you ever say no to him?

-

Making your way to the living room, he asks you to watch over Haru, and if he wakes up or starts to fuss to just call for him. The way your apartment is formatted, you can see the living room from the kitchen so calling Ken wouldn’t be difficult.

Before getting started on dinner, you insisted you could cook something but Ken stubbornly said he owed you a dinner; He even let you choose the movie for the night.

Settling on your couch, you watch as Haru lays on his thick blanket on the floor, neatly wrapped in his blanket. The sight was adorable, a little mop of blonde hair splayed out. Somehow, watching the little bundle of love dissipates any fear you previously had.

Like Ken had said, if he didn’t like you at first, you would do everything in your power to make him love you.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at Haru until Ken comes into the living room to tell you the food is ready. Yet again. he breaks you out of a daze. It’s extremely insane to think, given the fact that Ken’s son is only two and this would’ve been your third date, but your mind wanders to the possibility of a future with Ken.

Blinking the thought from your head, you help Ken bring the food to the dining table, kiss him on the cheek as a thank you, and eat the delicious food. Just as you were putting the dishes away, haru started to stir awake. Thankfully, in a seemingly good mood.

The baby blinked awake, slowly taking in his surroundings and smiling at the sight of his dad. However, when Haru’s eyes moved to your figure, they widened, “It’s okay Haru, this is y/n, she’s nice I promise. Way nicer than Uncle Mikey.” At the name of his uncle, Haru smiles again and slowly wobbles his way to his dad.

Ken crouches down to carry his baby and walks towards you, “Say hi Haru.” The boy shyly smiles, turning his face to hide in his dad’s neck, you laugh at the baby’s actions.

“Hello, Haru!” You coo, voice soft but not quiet so he can’t hear you, you keep some space between you and Ken, turning your attention to the held baby. Very slowly, Haru moves his face to look at you, you smile when your eyes meet. Giggling, Haru yet again hides his face in his dad’s neck.

The silly banter goes back and forth, you and Ken move to sit on the couch while he sets Haru down to play. “Had I known you were bringing Haru, I would’ve baby-proofed the house.” There weren’t many sharp things in your home but the edges of tables were enough to do damage to babies, “I’ll buy corner guards for next time, you can never be too-”

You were very surprised at the interruption, given what Ken asked or more so demanded, “Will you marry me?” To be honest, you cannot tell if the man is joking, while committing to him is not something that intimidates you, you have only gone on two official dates.

Quickly, he apologizes for such an impulsive statement, while he is joking, Draken confesses (to himself) that he wants you in his life for a long time. To ease the obvious tension in his shoulders, you joke back, “At least buy me a ring first.”

“Will the diamond ring in my pocket suffice?” Faking a disappointed look, you reply, “Bummer, I don’t like diamonds. Do you by any chance have a ring pop?”

While the mood is light, Ken says in all seriousness, “I’ll give you anything you want.” Caught off guard at the sincerity, you can’t help the blush that rises to your face. Before you can reply, Haru starts to cry, which reminds Ken to look at the time.

The clock reads 11:15 pm, which shocks you both. It seems like he just got here, you’re saddened to have to call it a night. The look on Ken’s face shows he feels the same, but to not let the mood damper,

“I’ll give you anything you want tomorrow night, same time?”

“Woah, that’s sounding a little naughty Kenny.” He immediately groans at the nickname, his friends are going to be thrilled to call him yet another version of his name, “Never mind, date canceled indefinitely.”

The both of you continue to banter as you help him gather Haru’s things and double checking Ken has all of his belongings.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow sweetheart, maybe wear that dress you had on?” He gets a smack on the arm (and a long kiss, well, long enough to be appropriate in front of his two year old son).

Teasingly, you walk him to the door and whisper, “I’ve got an even shorter one.” He blinks in surprise, but you don’t elaborate. Instead, you give him one last sweet kiss on the cheek, and bid Ken and Haru goodnight, telling him to text you when they’ve gotten home.

-

from ken: i’m home baby, i’ll see you tomorrow pretty girl. i hope you sleep well.

to ken: baby?? someone’s bold.

from ken: says the one who said she has an even shorter dress.

to ken: it’s tighter too :P

from ken: you’re awful, go to bed.

from ken: sweet dreams pretty girl.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[captainnait]

(Decided to reuploded this post because literally no one saw it. . . Oh well. Might as well tag @whocaresifwearecrazy since they could be interested in this idk)

Something that literally no one asked for - a TTwM compilation!!

I enjoyed gathering all the questions for this one. I'm not sure if I found *all* of them, but. . . Yeah. Some clips (4 out of 13) aren't mine, so I left the source in the description.

Also I wrote a little analysis/commentary thingy for all of these, which you can read down below. It's mostly just me rambling about Bob and Milan and how stupid these two are, so don't take it too seriously. I just— I just need to get this off my chest, okay 😭 also sorry for the broken english in some of these. I was half-awake when writing lol

Anyway, would really appreciate if you watch this compilation. I might do some others in the future idk. Enjoy 💖💥

As for commentary, here it is ✨

"Ode to a Garbage Can": I put this one first in the compilation, because (imo) it shows Bob's and Milan's overall dynamic perfectly - Bob tries to be as positive and supportive of Milan as he can (although with a mild success), while Milan. . . Well, he's just being himself - extremely forward and harsh, but, in the end, not minding Bob's attitude, and even engaging in a playful back-and-forth with him. It's simple, it's nice and it's going to be a repeating pattern.

. . . Aaand it's probably the most analytical I'm going to get here. Probably.

Anyway, can't say much else about this one. They're silly

"A Crappy Question": Bob here sounds so genuinely guilty 😭. And the fact that he immediately tries to make up by helping Milan with his classes— it's pretty wholesome. . . Milan slapping the living shit out of him in the end isn't tho lol

"Get Your Finger Out of Your Nose": Milan calling out Bob on literally anything is also the main point of a lot of these. And, tbh, if I worked as a janitor somewhere, where mfs like any of ydkj hosts work, I wouldn't be so happy either bruh

Anyhow, the gross out humor in the end is nothing unusual for this game. But damn, the way Milan said "chucklehead" at the end. . . He loves that idiot I'm sorry 💥💥💥

"Urinal Chips and Dip": Bob being an idiot and getting what he deserves will NEVER not be funny to me

"Wait a minute, is this a trick question? 😠" "For you? Yes 🙄" I can't with them—

Also Milan helping Bob out a bit at the end was surprisingly nice. . . And uncommon too

"Swapping Spit": Milan calling Bob "host boy" at the start caught me off guard completely when I first heard it. And yet, somehow, he gets even more wild with the nicknames later on in the other questions lol

"Moron? Hey! >:[" Bob sounds so hurt here 😭 i like to imagine that before that he wasn't catching any insults from Milan at all up until this point. He's clueless like that

"Ugh, Milan! Why do you say things like that?" "To make you blush" Okay that's just straight up flirting—

Also Bob doesn't sound so opposed to that huh. . . Interesting. I wonder when this is going to come up again—

"Things Nobody Wants To Lick": OKAY FUCK I'M SORRY THIS ONE IS JUST INSANE. MILAN JUST CASUALLY RIPS HIS SHIRT AND SAY TO "LICK UNDERNEATH HIS SWEATY ARMPIT"? AND NOT ONLY BOB IS IMPRESSED WITH MILAN'S BODY (as he says himself), HE ALSO ISN'T OPPOSED TO HIS REQUEST IN THE END (even though it wasn't even addressed to him btw)? AND EVEN ADVICES TO SAY "THANK YOU!" AFTER THE PROCESS?? HELLO?? WHY SO 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂? WHY NO ONE TALKS ABOUT IT—

Ahem. Anyway, "Bob-friend" is such a great nickname, 10/10, amazing job, Milan.

Bob's "MILAN! WHAT? 😨😳" is literally my favorite thing ever

"Please? Look, begging is not gonna help, my friend" yup, I figured

(I'm not even going to comment on the last few lines lol this is already too much)

"Seven Minutes in the Broom Closet": And just when you think it can't get gayer than the last one. . . This title. What the fuck are they doing in the closet—

Bob mistaking alliteration with liter is just so him

"Haha, you said pee :D" this man literally has a mind/humor of a toddler

And yeah, Milan leaving Bob confused with his words/sayings is. Everything

"I'm Not Your Chew Toy": I'm pretty sure this is the shortest question in this category in terms of dialogue

I love that this one highlights just how patient can Bob be with Milan's rather snappy attitude (which, to be fair, is pretty reasonable for him to have)

"Gift Ideas from the Bathroom": This one. This is my favorite question in the whole game probably. . .

Milan calling Bob "Robert" (which continues running joke of Milan calling Bob different nicknames). Milan sharing his collection with Bob, who seems to be not only interested in it, but also wants to implement it in the question. Bob being a clumsy ass moron and dropping the jar, with Milan following with his (almost) catchphrase "I'm not cleaning that". Milan sharing his culture with Bob and feeding him a homemade soup, with Bob being absolutely joyful and excited to learn new things from his favorite person (while also being taken care of by said person). Milan's little "jerk" at the end, that sounds just a bit too soft to sound like an actual insult, and more like an affectionate pet name. I love this. This is amazing. If this isn't not one of the most wholesome moments in ydkj series, idk what is tbh

"Little Red Outhouse": "Hey Milan, how you doing? Good to see ya 😁" "It's a pleasure for you to see me 😇" "Yeah, i— Uh what? 🤨" This is one of my favorite exchanges between them. Milan has such a way with words sometimes idk. . .

Not much to say about this one, except the fact, that Milan washes Bob's microphone in the toilet bowl, becomes much more disgusting when you know, that in one of the questions Bob smooches his microphone. You're welcome 😇

"It Happens to the Best of Us": Crying Milan is the last thing I expected from this game, but here we are ig. As much as I feel sad for him, I can't deny that his crying voice is incredibly stupid (/pos)

"It was a horribly sad incident which took place today" I like how even when he's distraught he still tries to flex his english skills. What a king

The way Bob instantly goes "yes sir" right after Milan tells him to shut up is just. . . 😭 no comments

"Don't Forget to Wipe": Ah yes, the one where Milan blackmails Bob. Anyway

"Hm, would you like to know" THE WAY HE SOUNDS HERE I— 💥💥

Also the way Milan interrogates Bob here is just so funny to me. He's like an annoyed and slightly disappointed owner that find out his dog made a mess in the living room again. . . Weird comparison, but oh well (I've been writing this commentary for way to long)

"There's a Swosh™ on My Tush": I love this one. Mf just plays basketball in the middle of his work day and that's it. No disgusting twist, just basketball

. . . Well, except the last few seconds, where Bob straight up drools on Milan's shoes. . . Like a dog—

Okay, nah, that's it, that enough of these guys for me today istg

[shadowbriar]

Regulus Black - Supermassive Black Hole II

Pairing : (F/M) || Regulus Black x Selwyn!Reader Word Count : 6.4k Warning : Curse words. Arguments. Mention of blood and unconscious SH. Please let me know if I've missed anything else. Synopsis : A simple arrangement turned into an everlasting one as two naïve children try to figure out their heart. Notes : This is the longest fic I've posted yet, I hope you wouldn't be bored midway. If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please comment or reblog so I can add you to the tag list. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

↞ Part I

If there is ever a day that Regulus hated more than most it would this very day when she turned sixteen. The calendar sitting on his bedside table stood proud, almost looking as if it was rubbing its numbers on his face. He stares at it with bitter glare, knocking the innocent item off of its position. He need not anything to remind him of the dreadful day. He couldn't forget her birthday even if he tried.

And he painfully had, indeed, tried.

Now sitting at the Slytherin Common Room with a book that failed to distract his mind, Regulus tries to put out his most nonchalant veneer. The act often fools his two best friends so he wasn't much worried he'll be called out for it. The only thing he has to worry about now is the internal feud happening inside him.

He knew that being sixteen meant that she would have a long line of gentlemen waiting for her hand. The silly tradition carried by the families of Sacred 28 to marry their children and keep their blood line pure was something Regulus felt proud of once, yet now seem to have loathed it more than anything. His parents, though not as outspoken and eager as he expected them to be, have also mentioned their intention of finding Regulus a wife. However, given the fact that he's the second born, his parents' focus was still heavily weighing on Sirius. Something that he feels grateful about.

"I think I'll ask my parents about it when we get back home." Rosier said, his cheeks looking slightly red "My family might not be as close to the Selwyns, but we're not that shabby of a family. I could still shoot my shot with her, don't you think?"

Regulus tried to hide his clenching jaw, resting his hand to his neck as he gave a small nod.

"Yeah, you'll do just fine." Crouch says, encouraging his friend "So long as Regulus here doesn't make his move, I'd say you're the only promising contender there is. I mean, who else is she going to marry? The Lestranges are old, Bulstrodes are a bunch of twats, and I doubt her family would let her marry a Malfoy. Their cocky selves would be the last thing the Selwyns would want for their only daughter."

"My brother is still out there, unbetrothed." Regulus says, eyes still glued on the leaves of his book "He could court her."

Crouch scoffs, "Highly doubt it."

"Why?" Regulus asks, this time looking up to see his friend's reaction "You don't think Sirius is decent enough to marry her?"

"Your brother doesn't like her like that, Reg." Crouch says "If he does he would've courted her a long time ago. You Blacks have been close to the Selwyns for years. If he ever had any interest in her he would've made his move already and yet, he hasn't."

Regulus remains silent. The arguments Crouch gave only made him want to punch the wall harder. As logical as his reasoning is, Regulus certainly did not need Crouch to entertain Rosier's intention. A sense of resentment is brewing inside him whenever he hears Rosier compliments or merely talks about her. He knew full well the extent of admiration his best friend has for her and yet he still hates it. No matter how genuine Rosier's feelings is, no one can advance with her.

No one but him.

He knew just how much of a coward and selfish bastard he was, for loving someone in silence yet acting as if he barely recognised her. But this persona is all he's known for years. This act is the only one he could put out around her. Perhaps this bitterness stems from the jealousy over how easy it is for his brother to be close with her, to make her laugh and cry in happiness. Growing up together meant that he’d seen first hand how things went with ease for her and Sirius and he couldn’t help but to feel envious about it. Regulus loves his brother dearly, just not when he's around her.

"Right, so it's settled then." Rosier said triumphantly, catching Regulus' attention once more "Now let's all pray to the seven hells that no one is sweet talking her parents yet."

Rosier's words set Regulus' skin ablaze. Sure, Rosier is a decent man, someone with a bright future who came from a respected family, but Regulus couldn't help but feel far superior to him. If only he could shed just a layer of his ego and talk to her, give barely half of the effort Rosier was so determined to do, he knew that he would have a bigger chance of being with her.

But is that what she wants? Would she want him to advance with his feelings? She's never shown any comfort whenever he's around. If anything, she looks like she was tormented whenever she breathed the same air as him. She was never as free and casual compared to when Sirius was around, so what exactly would be his one safety net that she would not reject and stomp his heart to the ground?

The noise of her friends congratulating her as she arrives at the Common Room made Regulus look up. An unconscious smile tugs in the corner of his lips, watching her being overwhelmed with the attention and congratulatory greetings. He wonders if there would ever be a time when he could be one of those people, surrounding her and celebrating her birthday with no awkwardness nor worry poisoning his brain.

Regulus could feel the couch shifted on his side. Rosier was already on his feet, approaching her with a nervous gesture. He greets her, wishing her a happy birthday before pulling her for a hug. Regulus scoffed, since when were those two close?

Trying to diffuse the anger boiling inside, Regulus turns back to his book. It was to no use, he knew it. There's nothing in this world that could distract his mind from her and the not subtle approach Rosier is taking but he couldn't show his jealousy. It's not like she was hers to begin with.

He could hear how Crouch begins to talk about her possible betrothal and Regulus has to gather every willpower to not stand up and deck his friend. He wanted them to shut up, both Crouch and Rosier. And it didn't help that Crouch tried to involve him in the conversation, asking his opinion about how the three of them could be her eligible bachelor, which of course Regulus could only answer with a hum.

“Don’t you want to say happy birthday to Selwyn, Regulus?” Rosier asked.

Regulus sighs before putting his book down and looking up. He wanted to take her hand and steal her away from his friends, as furthest as they could go. Now that she’s standing next to Rosier, he could see just how plausible their reunion would be. Though he’s still much better than Rosier in plenty of disciplines, Regulus has to admit that his best friend is an appropriate suitor for her.

And so he forced a smile, “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” She replied short, not showing any sense of impression “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”

Regulus averts his eyes back to his book, hiding the slight disappointment of her sour response. Perhaps he could’ve been more friendly with his words or be more genuine with his smile, but it’s hard to show his true intention when the two people he wanted to hex to death were standing on her side. He wanted to slap the smug off of Crouch’s face and push Rosier away from her. The sight of her being close to the opposite gender irritates him to the bone.

The words he’s reading suddenly make no sense, evaporating into thin air before it could ever be registered in his brain. He wonders if she was going to meet Sirius. What kind of gift has his brother prepared for her? Would she pull his brother for a hug after he handed it to her? If Regulus were to give her a present himself, would she have accepted it? Would she respond to him the same way she would to Sirius?

Regulus let out a small sigh. All these questions feel like a labyrinth with no exit. Every wonder, what ifs and scenarios running across his mind had turned into a new form of air that though it hurt him, Regulus couldn’t imagine passing a day without it. If only he could read her mind.

—-

Regulus has been running around the castle for almost half an hour now. His skin was covered in sweat, cheeks slightly red from exhaustion. He runs his hand through his hair, feeling rather desperate to find his brother. He needs to make haste before things get a little bit too late for him to salvage.

“Sirius!” He called, running to his brother who was still in his quidditch robe “We need to talk.”

“Later, Reg.” The older boy dismissed “I need to take a shower first.”

“Now.”

Sirius stares at his younger brother strangely. The state Regulus was in was making him alert. Regulus has never looked so unkempt. His eyes were pleading, something Sirius hasn’t seen in a very long time. Understanding the urgency, Sirius nods and follows his little brother to the quieter side of the quidditch field.

“You need to marry Selwyn.” Regulus said with no warning.

“What?” Sirius responded in surprise, widening his eyes “What are you talking about?”

“You need to ask for Selwyn's hand in marriage.” Regulus repeated, his eyes still showing the same despair “I’ll help talk to Mother and Father though I know they would have no problem with you marrying her. We have to owl them fast-”

“Wait, hold on. Where are all these coming from?”

Regulus seethes, hopelessness bleeding out of him, “It doesn’t matter where it’s coming from. What matters is you’re marrying her.”

“I’m not going to marry Selwyn just because you told me to!” Sirius argues, feeling confused and lost at his brother’s urgent demand “What in the bloody hell is going on, Regulus?”

Regulus wanted to pull every single strand of his hair off of his scalp. He paces back and forth, biting on his fist. He knew just how frenzied he’s looking right now. The bewildered look on Sirius’ face is a clear sign of how mental he’s become. If only he could be transparent to his brother.

“Rosier is going to ask for her hand.” Regulus said, trying to gather his composure “He’s owled his parents to talk to hers. I heard him talk to Crouch earlier and from the look of it, it seems like the Selwyns are giving him a green light.”

“Right.” Sirius squinted his eyes, still not following the apocalyptic reasoning behind Regulus’ actions “What’s the problem with that?”

“The problem with that, Sirius, is that Rosier is going to marry Selwyn!” Regulus yells in despair “How can you stand there and ask what’s the problem with Rosier wanting to marry her? It’s Selwyn! How can you let her marry Rosier?”

Sirius shakes his head, completely lost as to where the conversation is going, “What’s so bad about Rosier? Isn’t he one of your pals?”

“Yes, he’s one of my closest friends but that’s beside the point, alright! The point is that Selwyn can’t marry Rosier.”

“So she should marry me?”

Regulus nods, “Yes, she should marry you.”

“Why?”

Regulus closed his mouth, trying to find the right words to utter.

“Why should I marry her, Reg?”

“Because she likes you.”

Sirius raised his brows, “And how do you know this? Did she tell you herself?”

“No.” He answered, feeling cornered “Look, I can’t give you the answer you’re looking for but you have to marry her, alright? She can’t marry Rosier or any other guy. Just- Just marry her, Sirius, please.”

Sirius stares at his brother with a perplexed expression, still trying to make sense of the words he’s just uttered. None of it was making any sense. Why would it be so bad for her to marry Rosier? What’s so wrong about him? And why does it have to be Sirius to be the one to marry her instead?

“Look, brother,” Sirius sighs, coming close to him and places a hand to his shoulder “I understand that you care about her, I do too, but this doesn’t seem to be something we should meddle with. Whoever she or her parents choose has nothing to do with us.”

Regulus remains quiet.

“Honestly, Regulus. If you don’t want to see her marry anyone else then why don’t you go ask her to marry you? Why do you have to point fingers at me?”

Sirius’ question felt like an arrow piercing through his chest. Of course he’s thought of marrying her, to be the one asking for her hand. To marry her would be a dream come true for Regulus. The idea of waking up in the morning beside her, spending their lazy days, and growing old together was something Regulus would kill to achieve. But given their history, such a dream feels too good to be true and if there is anyone who could make her happy, it would be Sirius, not Regulus.

“I can’t make her happy.” Regulus reasoned, his voice barely above a whisper “But you can. I’ve never seen her more joyful than when she was with you. Don’t you think she deserves to be with someone who could make her happy?”

“Regulus,” Sirius sighs, trying his best to give an understanding to his panicked brother “I can’t make her happy the way a husband should. And I agree with you, she deserves someone who could make her happy. She deserves much more than that, but that person isn’t me. I’m not the one she should be marrying.”

The younger boy remained quiet. Sirius doesn't understand the severity of the condition they’re in. How could he stand there and not feel the slightest terror of the chance of her marrying the wrong man? Doesn’t he want what’s best for her? And what would’ve been best for her if not Sirius?

“Regulus-”

“So you won’t marry her?” He cuts Sirius’ words “You’re not going to ask her to marry you?”

Sirius frowns, shaking his head, “No.”

“Fine.” Regulus nods, turning his heels.

“Regulus, where are you going?” Sirius shouts, his words not welcomed by his brother “Don’t do things you’ll regret later, Reg!”

Regulus’ steps are now filled with seethe. He’s never felt more angry and disappointed at Sirius than he is right now. Worry is still poisoning his mind, making his head turn hazy. She can’t marry Rosier, he can’t make her happy. What does he know about making her smile? Does he even know what her favourite flowers are? Regulus highly doubts it. But if Rosier isn’t good enough, then who else could court her?

—-

“Selwyn, a word.”

Regulus licks his lip in nervousness. The strange look she’s showing was watering his confidence. Well, it wasn’t exactly confidence that’s making him bold enough to approach her. However, a second ago he still had the slightest assurance that, at the very least she would say yes to the proposition he’s going to offer. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Once he sees that she is getting up from her seat, Regulus quickly turns on his heels and leads her outside. His heart was beating fast. The fastest he’s ever felt and he fears that it would give up any second now. He tries his best to maintain a decent composure, curling his fists into a ball as he tries to piece coherent words into his head. For someone who’s always been articulate, Regulus has now found himself at the loss of words.

“Will you spill your words or am I only being called to watch you pace back and forth, Regulus?” She says with a baffled expression “What is it, is everything alright?”

“Date me.”

Regulus wanted to facepalm himself. The two words rolled out of his tongue unexpectedly. He could’ve given her a head start, give her one or two sentences of explanation before heading straight to his proposition. But what exactly can he explain to her? That he’s desperate and scared that she would marry someone else? That he’s scared she would end up and marry Rosier? No, he can’t say that. It would only ruin the very least strands of friendship they have.

Her mouth was agape, eyes widened as he stared at him as if he’d just grown an extra limb, “Come again?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it.”

Despair was apparent in his eyes. He could only hope that she could see through his strugglesome self that couldn’t fully express his true intention and say yes. He prays that his eyes could tell her everything his mouth could not utter. They’ve been close for years, surely she could tell one or two things about him better than anyone else.

“Yeah, not funny, Regulus.” She says, rolling her eyes “Is this some kind of silly bet you made with Rosier or Crouch?”

Regulus’ jaws tensed at the mentioning of his friends, “No.”

“Then why exactly would you come to me and say those words?”

“Because I like you.”

His mouth felt dry right after he laid out his cards. Sure it wasn’t the most romantic way to express his feelings, but it was as good as it could get. It was the most honest reason he could give her. He likes her. Perhaps a little bit too much for it to ever be healthy. He wanted to tell her that it was her that he would always think of last before he drifted off to sleep and the first he would think of when he opened his eyes in the morning. But given the circumstances, perhaps he could dive in further with his details later when things are more within control.

Yet perhaps he wouldn’t be able to as she rolled her eyes and turned her heels, “I don’t have time for this, Regulus.”

Regulus gulped. His worst nightmare finally came true.

“So is that a no, then?” Regulus asked, stopping her pace “Do you not want to date me?”

“No, I don’t want to date you.” She says, turning herself back to face him.

“Why not?” His brows are now knitted, confused and looking slightly offended.

“Because, Regulus,” She answers with a long sigh of exasperation “Not everyone in this castle finds you attractive.”

Her words strike him down like lightning. As if the day wasn’t nightmarish already, she just has to continue and rub it on his face as she’s never seen him that way. What was he thinking? The confidence he once had was shredded, completely pulverised as she now stands by him with a nonchalant gesture. She was rejecting him and stomping his heart to the ground.

Regulus clears his throat, “So you have someone else you fancy then?”

She remains quiet, eyes still glued on his.

Right, of course. If he had to make a wild guess, that lucky git would be none other than his brother, he’s sure of it. The way Sirius is able to make her laugh must’ve been the principal cause. No one has ever been able to make her look as radiant and euphoric. What exactly could Regulus do to compete with that?

“Very well.” Regulus says, taking her silence as his confirmation “I’m sorry to have caused you some inconveniences. Let’s pretend the last twenty minutes didn’t happen.”

Unable to spend another second there, Regulus quickly turned and walked away. He could physically hear his heart breaking with each step. What exactly was he thinking? That she would just say yes and date him? In what universe would she ever reciprocate his feelings? She’s never looked at him twice, even when Sirius wasn’t around. The chance he was so confident to have was nothing but mere illusion. He’s never had a chance with her. Never.

—-

To say last night was agonising would be an understatement. Regulus couldn't sleep, knowing that he’s burned the bridges between them. He shouldn’t have said a word. He shouldn’t have asked her to date him. He shouldn’t have confessed his feelings. Now he’s got nothing left to keep. He was sure that she would never want to see him again, as if their limited interaction over the years wasn’t already tormenting him.

Sirius was right, he shouldn’t have done things out of haste. Now look at the damage he’s caused. There’s nothing left for him to safe, nothing for him to fix. He’s lost her completely over some dumb confession he could’ve done better at.

“Regulus,” She called, making her presence known “We need to talk.”

Regulus looked up, swallowing his saliva at the sight of her. He certainly didn’t expect her to find him at the library, breaking his train of thought of the disaster he caused yesterday, “About?”

“You know what about.”

He sighs and puts his book down, gesturing to her to proceed. Perhaps this is his chance to salvage whatever is left for him to pick up. Maybe he could come up with a better explanation that would save her from a marriage, especially from Rosier. However the look on her face was giving him signs that things would not go as easy as he would like it to be.

“What in the seven hells were you doing yesterday?” She snapped in a hushed volume “Were you drunk? Did someone spike you with some tonic?”

“No, I was fine.” He answers, not wanting her to think that his intention was anything close to some joke or silly prank “I only wanted to know if you wanted to date me, is all.”

“Why?”

“Because,” 

Regulus pauses, biting his lower lip as if debating to continue his words. Should he tell her the truth? Should he tell her that he fears of her marrying Rosier? But what would he answer when she asks why? That he loves her too much to see her be with someone that he knew wouldn’t make her happy? Would she believe his words? She didn’t even seem to be much convinced of his confession yesterday, what would make this one truth give a different outcome?

And so he resorted to the one thing he’s good at, lying, “My parents are arranging me to marry Greengrass.”

Her brows rose, stunned at the new information spilled.

“I was wondering if you’d like to date me so I can stall more time before a marriage happens.” He continued to lie, eyes not looking at her in an attempt to not have his false words caught “Sirius has made it clear that he has no interest in getting married soon, especially with anyone my parents chose for him, so my parents turned to me and arranged the marriage. They fear that I might rebel and follow my brother’s missteps.”

There was a brief silence. Regulus still wouldn’t dare to look up, afraid that one look of her would crumble his sheer veneer of lies. He could only pray that she would buy his lie and finally agree to date him. Even if it was a fake one and had to be based on lies, whatever it takes to stall time for her to get married, he would be up for it.

Though he isn’t sure how he would function with such distress.

“Then why did you ask me to date you?” She asks with a soft voice, perhaps trying to understand the situation better “Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel to ask a girl to be their girlfriend when he’s betrothed to another?”

“I thought we could pretend to date each other so my parents would call the arrangement off. I mean, it’s a good proposal, don’t you think? I know your parents must be planning for your arrangement too, so I thought we could just date and make them postpone the arrangements.” He continued, fabricating more lie that he knew would bite him in the arse one day “Assuming that you’re not ready for a marriage too, of course.”

“Then why didn’t you just say so? Why did you have to lie and say that you liked me?”

Regulus gulps, regret filling his eyes once more. Was it really that hard to believe that he really liked her? Even if he was really betrothed to another, it doesn’t diminish the fact that he really does like her. Perhaps the way he carried his words yesterday and the lies he’s giving right now was leading her to a different conclusion.

“So you don’t want to marry Greengrass?”

Regulus shakes his head slowly, “No, I don’t. And I don’t think I ever would want to.”

She taps her fingers to the wooden table. The sound of it was driving Regulus mad. Perhaps he’s taken it too far. He shouldn’t have uttered those lies. He should’ve just apologised and asked for her forgiveness. Who knows what those words would lead them now?

“Look, it was a foolish proposition, I understand. I don’t expect-”

“Fine,” She says short, letting out a long exhale “Let’s do it.”

Regulus raised his brows, “What?”

“I said, let’s do it. It’s a favourable offer for us both, so I’m game.” She says firmly, looking assured “But just so we’re clear, this is business strictly. No emotions, no feelings, what so ever. The second either of us catch it, we’ll tell it to each other and call it off, deal?”

No deal. How could he agree to such a proposition when he’s already so plastered over her? But this is as good as it could get. At least they could have more time to postpone a marriage and hopefully this would water down Rosier’s intention on marrying her. Or any other guy, really. Perhaps one of these days Regulus could muster the courage and ask her to be his wife genuinely.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Regulus says as he takes out his hand for her to shake “Deal.”

—-

Regulus pulled her hand and led her to his compartment. He knew that Rosier and Crouch wouldn’t be joining them today. The news of them dating had spread like wildfires and Regulus could understand the hatred Rosier must be having right now. He quite literally steals his bird right under his nose. He hasn’t shared a word to Rosier and honestly had no intention to. All is well for Regulus so long as he has her by his side. The world could burn into ashes for all he cares.

“Have you owled your parents?” He asks as he takes a seat “Told them about us?”

She nods, “A couple of days ago.”

“And what did they say?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened their letters.” She shrugs, plopping into the seat in front of him “Reckon I could just witness their reactions first hand when we arrive.”

Regulus nods, not uttering another word.

He too hasn’t opened any of his parents’ letters. For some reason they have sent him more than the usual and he couldn’t be bothered to find out why. Regulus could only suspect that the news of him dating her was making his parents ecstatic. At least one of their sons is continuing the family tradition. 

Regulus glances at her who’s now looking out of the glass door, watching as students come in and look for their designated compartments. Her face lights up when she sees Sirius, waving at him with that big smile Regulus always feels envious about. Sirius grins back at her, only to have a sour expression when he sees him. He gave a small nod to Regulus before continuing his walk and following his friends away.

Of course his brother was pissed. He’s told Sirius about their fake relationship and as expected, Sirius was beyond angry at the news. He couldn’t believe how deceitful Regulus’ decision is, to limit her from finding her true match. If only Regulus would be honest to his brother about his true intention, perhaps Sirius wouldn’t be as angry and would understand where he’s coming from. Yet he didn’t and the half answered questions only made Sirius believe in the worst of him.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You know what.” She says, sounding irritated “Must you really ask questions you know the answer to? It doesn’t make you seem cool, you know. It makes you look like a twat.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “Why are you asking me? Ask Sirius, he’s the one who seems to have a problem with us being together.”

She shows an annoyed look before turning her eyes back outside.

Regulus licks his lower lip. The fake dating has certainly given them more interactions yet they’re far from how he would've wanted it to be. He knew that he could have acted less of an arse and been more open to her, but the guilt of keeping her so selfishly when it was clear that she didn't want to be anywhere close to him was eating him alive. Everytime she was by his side, the fear of her finding out that he was deceiving her would haunt him. He wouldn’t know what he would do if she ever finds out and hates him. He would rather cast himself the killing curse than to live with that pain.

“We have to talk about what to do during the break.” Regulus says, eyes still glued to his book so he wouldn’t have to see her and make him feel more guilty “I’ll owl you weekly and come to every parties and soirees your parents are holding. I suppose your birthday party is coming, right?”

She turns her head to him, eyebrows furrows, “Weekly? You think that would suffice?”

“I don’t owl anyone so a letter weekly is a luxury.” He said as he looked up to her “You can send me your letters as frequently as you want but know that I’ll only be replying once a week.”

“You’re impossible.” She scoffs, folding her hands in front of her chest “Daily. You are to owl me everyday. You tell me about how your day went, tell me how much you miss me, how much you miss holding hands with me, and you are to send me flowers. I like orchids, so send me those.”

Regulus remains quiet. Those wouldn’t be too hard to do, knowing that those things she said are the very thing he wanted to do each day. And she needed not to tell him what her favourite flower was, he knew. He knew about her more than he would be willing to say. Did she really think that he wouldn’t when he’s been so head over heels for her for years?

“Fine.” He says, closing his book “Any other request?”

She pursed her lips, contemplating, “We have to stop calling each other by our names.”

“What do you mean?”

“Couples don’t do that. They call each other by their pet names.” She explains “I mean that’s what my friends do.”

“I see.” Regulus nods slowly “I’ll call you motormouth.”

“Motormouth?” She asks, appalled “That’s not a pet name, that’s an insult!”

“Well if you learn to quiet down a bit we’ll upgrade to something more mediocre like Darling or Love.”

“Fine,” She spat in annoyance “Honey Puff.”

Regulus glares, “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, does my dear lover hate to be called with cute names?” She taunts, faking a cute pout “Should we call you Pooh Bear instead?”

Regulus turns back to his book with a fake annoyed scoff. He could only hope that the strands of his hair that are now covering his face would be enough to hide the slight blush appearing on his cheeks. Sure he hates the pet name, but knowing that it was something he got to do with her warms his heart. Who would have known that the Regulus Black is actually such a softie on the inside?

—-

“What’s going on, Regulus?”

His brother’s whisper was making Regulus sweat, walking into the Selwyns’ Manor with colour draining from his face, “I don’t know.”

“Why are we here?” Sirius continues to ask “And why is the garden decorated as if someone’s about to get married?”

Regulus gulped. Is she going to get married? Did the plan not work? Is this why his parents have been sending him more owls? Not because of pride and happiness but because of shame that their son is dating someone who’s already betrothed to another?

The Black brothers were walking a few steps behind her, looking and studying the situation around them. A party is about to be held, just not the ones they would usually go to. Orchids were placed everywhere, her one favourite flower. Regulus could feel his breathing getting shorter in fear. Is this truly the end for them?

“Darling, welcome home!” Mrs. Selwyn greets, pulling her daughter into a warm embrace “It’s so good to see you, my love. And welcome Regulus, Sirius. I hope the journey back was pleasant for you, yes? Your parents are inside, preparing themselves.”

Regulus raised his brows, “They’re here?”

“Well of course they are! They wouldn’t miss their son’s wedding would they?”

“His what?” She asks in surprise, pulling away from her mother’s embrace “Who’s marrying who?”

“You, of course, you silly goose. You’re marrying Regulus.” Her mother teased, poking her daughter’s nose “Did you not read the letters I’ve sent you? Walburga and Orion thought that it would be best to hold the wedding now, seeing that the both of you are already dating, anyway. Your father and I thought the same. We’ve sent the both of you letters but neither of you replied, so we assumed that there was no rejection against the idea.”

Regulus remained quiet, trying to digest the unexpected news.

“My darling girl.” Her mother says warmly, looking at her daughter proudly before turning to Regulus with a warm smile “We didn’t need to put you two in an arranged marriage, after all.”

His eyebrows rose. Arranged marriage? Between him and her?

“I have to get back inside and make sure the catering is ready.” Mrs. Selwyn says before excusing herself inside.

The three children were still frozen, their souls sucked out of their body. The words come into one ear and exit the other with no remarks. His head was fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything that’s just been told to him.

“I’ll look for Mother and Father, see if they’ve got some better explanations.” Sirius says before getting inside the manor.

Regulus watched as his brother disappeared into the manor. His ears were ringing, feet light as if he was afloat. Only on the worst way possible. He couldn’t believe the reality he’s in. Just how great of a mess he’s caused for her.

She turned to him and called, “Regulus.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He cursed under his breath, rummaging his hair as he paced back and forth “What in the holly fuck is going on in our parents’ head?! We’re sixteen, for fuck’s sake! What exactly are they rushing for?!”

Regulus could feel his skin melting in despair. How did he let things get this severe? He only wanted to have more time, to keep her by his side just a little longer. What does the universe have against him that made his life this difficult?

“Regulus, quiet down.” She whispers, noticing the stares thrown at them “People are staring.”

“And you,” He turns, finger pointing at her “Why couldn’t you just open the bloody letters? We could’ve avoided this!”

“Me? How is it my fault? You were sent letters too and you didn’t know. I’m not the only party at fault for not being diligent with my post!”

Regulus clenches his jaws in anger. He lets out a small growl. He didn’t mean to blame her, he was just desperate is all. Yet of course as always he could only make her feel more uncomfortable around him. Just another thing to add to the list of what’s stressing him out right now.

His anger was quickly subdued when he turned to her, noticing that her excessive bite to her lower lip was making it bleed. It was one of the very detailed thing he noticed of her. Whenever she feels scared or unsure of herself, she would bite her lower lip until it bleeds and would have the least realisation of it. She would act as if such action was nothing, as if it doesn’t hurt her the slightest.

“Stop, that. Don’t hurt yourself.” Regulus says as he hands her his handkerchief “Stop mutilating yourself.”

She took the white cloth and pressed it to her lips, still not giving any care for herself, “What do we do know?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus sighs, feeling like he’s going to give in anytime now “I don’t think we could ever out mind our parents' wicked plans. They’re sick in the head, is what they are.”

“Don’t talk about my parents like that, I love them.” She argues, a slight pout evident on her face “Even when they’re being dickheads like this.”

Regulus smiled at the refreshing sight, yet such bliss only lasted for a second as he took a hard gulp, “So will you do it? Will you marry me?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

He mentally winces at her question. He hates the fact that she thinks she’s got no other choice but to marry him. He hated himself for putting her in such a situation, to give her no other option but to marry him though it’s obvious that she has no interest to do it. He hates himself to have forced her to marry him this way.

But Regulus knew that there’s nothing he could do to go against his parents’ decision. The marriage is already in motion and there’s no other way for him but to go forward. He could only pray that one day she would find the way to forgive him.

“Alright, let’s get married, then.”

↠ Part III

[nine-of-words]

Something Borrowed (Part Eight)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 7843

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup, Minor Knife Injury, Blood, Ophidiophobia, Non-Denominational Exorcism, Near Death Experience

Another update, another part that I let get out of hand on the wordcount. A slower part this time, at least up until the end. Just a few more parts to go now, and this story will actually be finished! :’)

The next week is, dare you say it, pleasant.

You don't want to jinx anything… but you think you might even be…

Happy?

It's a strange, foreign feeling, after spending so long licking your wounds and wallowing in your misery. It's just been so long since you've had hope for the future, that you almost forgot how light it felt. How good.

Sure, you're still cursed, but it seems trivial at this point. You've been talking to Carlyle every day like normal, and you even still saw him for his Tuesday work order, with seemingly no ill effects. 

You might as well be dating already, really. Maybe that defeats the purpose of not labeling it, to be thinking that way? But it's such a nice thought, you just can’t stop yourself.

You'd just… like to be able to actually call him your boyfriend soon…

You find yourself planning future dates in the back of your mind as you go through the motions of serving your line of midday Saturday customers.

As if summoned by the strength of your daydreaming, the man in question appears at the threshold of your shop with the tinny jingle of the bell, not even a full hour later.

He came to see you? You weren’t expecting him at all today, but it’s certainly a welcome surprise. You feel your skin flush slightly around your cheekbones and ears, your heartbeat picking up at the mere sight of him.

What really catches your eye is the change in his wardrobe. You’ve only ever seen him in- and technically out of- a suit so far. He's comparatively dressed down for the weekend in a pink polo and khakis, but still impeccably neat and put together. 

It’s a silly thing to get flustered over, you know it, but you catch yourself feeling giddy over seeing a new side of him. It’s amusing that even on a weekend, he’s still dressed like he’s going to walk into an office and not look out of place.

“I didn’t know you were planning on coming in today.” You beam at him when his position in line finally reaches the counter.

“Ah, I wish it was only for a social call. I’d love to spend the whole weekend with you if I could.” He sighs, the way his lips curl up at the edges making it clear he’s being genuine. “But I’m actually here on business, I suppose you could say. I wanted to make sure I said hi to you first, though. Seems rude to not.”

“...Hi.” You chuckle, nodding to his chest. “Some sort of business-casual business, it looks like?” 

“Yes. Am I underdressed for this fine establishment?”

“Lady’s name, no-” You almost purr, your voice dripping with affection. “You clean up so bloody well, even out of a suit. I don’t know what else I expected.”

“Hah, you really know how to make a guy feel handsome.”

You're cherishing the pleased look on Carlyle's face from the compliment, until the sound of a customer who's gotten into line behind your not-quite-boyfriend-yet discreetly clears their throat.

Time to stop flirting and get back to work.

“Anything I could get for you?”

“Mmm. The usual is always appreciated.” He nods towards the table you had your first real conversation at, months ago now. “But I can see you're busy, so take as long as you need. I'll be over there.”

You somehow manage to get back to work, though the distraction makes it difficult, with how often you sneak a glance over at him.

You’re struggling to focus on decorating a cake that’s due later today when another (not unwelcome) distraction appears.

“I’m heeeeeeere~!!!” Kirby waves at you with a wide grin, then turns their attention towards where Carlyle is seated. “Oh good- you’re here already!! Punctual.”

In an effort to get your case finally solved, Kirby has been coming into your shop on Saturdays as well, despite it technically being one of their days off.

Seeing that you’re busy with a line, and clearly having some other pressing business, they take a seat at the table with Carlyle instead of their currently occupied, normal spot at the counter.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a bit left out.

Thankfully for you, your shop is small enough for the conversation to carry on its own. Not that you’re actively trying to eavesdrop- though, given Kirby's glaring lack of an inside voice, you can't imagine a scenario where you'd have any trouble hearing their side of the conversation regardless.

“If this curse presents so much like poltergeist activity, why not contact a witch for assistance? Assumingly they’d be able to perform an exorcism.”

“Geeeeeez, why didn’t I think of that??” The faun slaps their hand to their forehead with a completely dumbstruck look on their face. “Sorry I just finished my first training lesson yesterday, so I guess I don’t have the hang of all this magic stuff yet, haha!”

“I feel like you’re being disingenuous.” Carlyle smirks, faint enough that you wouldn’t have noticed if you haven’t pored over his face quite a bit so far.

“Of course I tried to get a witch in here! I do actually know what I’m doing, you know. There’s no Bureau-sanctioned Witch Inquisitors available for months for ‘non-essential’ cases. Supposedly exploding cakes aren’t considered, like, a meaningful enough threat??? Exploding. Cakes. SUPPOSEDLY.” Kirby pointedly rolls their eyes. “I can’t just mark this unresolved and move on! There is clearly something wrong here! And there’s just. No. Way. I’m gonna leave him out to dry like that!”

You have to admit, overhearing that puts an instant smile on your face. You consider yourself lucky to have been assigned someone so invested in solving your case, let alone one that has become such a good friend to you.

Carlyle hums in approval as well.

“But HQ is all the way up my ass about this now because of it! The max time estimate for this sort of case is a month! It's been four!"

"That's not that bad of a timeline, honestly-"

"Aaaaargh! You people are all the same!" They grasp their head in their hands in despair, smooshing their ears flat, curls trembling like quivering leaves.

"You people?" Carlyle scoffs incredulously.

"Yeah, buddy! Lawyers!! You say like, two whole sentences to a judge and then go on a three hour recess! Some magi have to do actual field work, y’know!"

“Right, right.” Carlyle chokes back a laugh behind a closed fist under the guise of clearing his throat. 

“When I say I’ve looked into everything I could think of, I mean everything. Investigated his ex- nothing. Mana type doesn’t match, and I pulled his bank statements and there’s no questionable activity that could be paying off a witch to do it. Unless he managed to SECRETLY pay someone with a wheelbarrow full of gold that never touched a bank; not him. Ex clients? I went back as far as his records went and then some! Nothing there either. And the exorcism potentially being faulty theory didn’t go anywhere either, all the paperwork’s there, even if the vibe in here is so off. I’m like, fully out of leads. It’s not a normal curse. I’m starting to think it’s not even a curse at all!! And it’s not a poltergeist- or a regular spirit, even- But it’s something. So what the hell is it?”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” Carlyle picks up another set of clipped papers from the table and starts skimming over them. “Two heads being better than one and all.”

Kirby simply groans, setting their forehead on the table with a dull thump.

It goes on like that for a while, with Carlyle reading in relative quiet aside from the odd question, which a deflated Kirby then answers.

“Well, you’re correct about it not seeming to be a normal curse, that much is certain. It could potentially be an unconventional sort of a geas- given the wording of the note it could constitute a very loose contract; But it’s unlikely if you have looked this far in and still haven’t found the source, even if you were looking for a curse at that point. …And I suppose we can’t completely rule out a poltergeist, either, until we get a witch in here. Even if the first ritual was performed correctly, there’s always the chance something changed.”

“Mhmm.”

“I know someone that can do an exorcism. I could call them, but they’re not exactly Bureau-affiliated. They have a license, of course- I suppose you could call them self-taught…”

“At this point I don’t care if their license is written in CRAYON, as long they’re legit!!”

The line is finally non-existent and the decorating is finished, so you swing by the table; sparkling juice for Kirby, coffee for Carlyle in his mug.

"Hey… How's it coming along?"

"Heeeeey." Kirby replies in a dull, muffled facsimile of their normal bright tone, forehead still planted against the tabletop.

"Oh, As well as it can be. Thanks for asking." Carlyle smiles at you warmly over the sheaf of papers he’s holding, loafered foot bobbing restlessly where it's crossed over his knee.

The papers he’s holding don’t even begin to account for the stacks in front of them, the entire tabletop covered with stacks of documents to the point you’re not even sure where you’re going to set down the beverages you’re holding.

“So, I take it the Bureau's taking volunteers now?”

“In an unofficial capacity.” Carlyle smirks and, mercifully seeing your predicament, starts carving out a space in the cluttered hoard of paper for the mug to go.

“I called him, I hope you don’t mind!!” Kirby chirps and finally lifts their head, looking a little brighter as they take their beverage. “I thought the extra help might be just what we need and he’s got just different enough of a specialty to offer some really good insight.”

“Good idea. I can’t think of two people I’d mind less digging around in my business.” You chuckle.

You take a seat and chat a little longer while you can, before a small end-of-day rush comes through and you’re once again forced to actually do your job.

Closing time comes and passes, and Kirby leaves for the night not longer after, with only Carlyle remaining in the front still poring over documents after close, with your blessing. You’re basically finished cleaning up the back for the night when you hear a knock of stone knuckles on the wooden door frame over the music you’ve been singing along to off-key.

Carlyle’s leaning slightly against the frame with a warm smile on his face. You didn’t even hear him walk up- you have to wonder how long he’s been there watching you work.

“I’ve been waiting to do this all day.” He gently grasps the back of your neck, pressing his lips to your smile and his waist to yours against the counter.

You feel much the same, but as you kiss him there’s a little prick of anxiety at the back of your mind and the faint weight on your chest is hard to ignore. But you find yourself sinking against his body regardless.

“Aah-” You barely get the words out when he trails across your cheek. ”Should we be doing this…?”

“Nothing’s happened yet, right?” The warm breath against your jaw makes it difficult to think about anything else.

The man has a point, and you steer his lips back to yours with renewed vigor.

Your head’s spinning in his heady familiar amber cologne and you’re losing track of time when  you’re rudely knocked out of your bliss by a sudden noise.

CLANK-

Carlyle lurches back, and then there’s a loud metallic clatter on the tile. Your eyes follow the movement, seeing the shiny silver blur of an overturned cooking pot on the floor.

“Blazes- Carlyle!” You push off of the counter and raise your hands, ready to help in whatever way you can. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-  I must’ve caught that hanger with my horn, or something.” Carlyle winces sheepishly, rubbing the crown of his head and looking up at the metal overhead utensil hanger. 

“Do you need some ice? Or-”

“No. No real harm done.” He waves the thought off with his other hand.

“If you’re sure.” You furrow your brow, holding his hand when he lowers it.

“Mmh… It is getting late though, so I suppose that’s my cue to make myself scarce. I still have some documents to read to get up to speed with your case, anyway.”

He sighs, rubbing your palm with his thumb.

“Right…”

“Unless you want me to stay. You know all you have to do is say the word.”

“...No, as much as I’d like that, you probably shouldn’t. I have a lot of orders going out early tomorrow morning and I’ll be too distracted to sleep if you stay, I think.”

You smile as you see him out, but you can’t help but feel lonely when you go to bed by yourself that night.

You need this curse to be lifted, so you can really be together.

A few weekends into this new routine, Kirby shows up early on Saturday morning, within minutes of your switching the open sign on.

“Morning. You’re here early! Not that I mind.” You quip happily, finishing the icing job on the last cupcake from the current batch for the case.

“Yeah… Hahah… About that- Okay. Soooooo. Don’t be mad... But I have some bad news.”

“Bad news…?” You wipe your hands on your apron in more of a nervous fidget than anything. “...Cupcake level bad news?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t want to break it to you over the phone, y’know?”

You fetch two cupcakes from the case- one of each of your preferred flavors. Sure, it’s before noon, but you think you’ll both need it, if the news is that dire.

“So, I just got out of a meeting with my boss and I’m… Sorta kinda…” They wince and twirl their lowest hanging curl around their finger, stalling. “Maybe… Officially no longer working on your case? Because it's closed?”

They then immediately shove their cupcake into their mouth, taking nearly an entire half of the baked good off in one stress-fueled bite.

“...What?” When you manage to break your stunned silence and plop down onto the stool behind you, your voice is barely more than a hoarse croak. You nearly drop your cupcake, instead deciding to set it back down on the wrapper, any appetite you had suddenly gone.

You can feel tears starting to prick at the back of your eyes, not just from sadness but the pure embarrassment of being this affected by this news. You manage to hold them back, barely, but it’s difficult.

But what are you going to do now? You’re simply doomed to stay cursed forever? Nothing you tried on your own fixed it, and now even the professionals are leaving you out to dry, too?

Just accept you’re unfixable?

Now, when you actually have something to lose again?

“Aw, don’t look so sad!! I… I kinda knew this was coming. I couldn’t convince my boss to keep it open any longer since the investigation wasn’t going anywhere- But I’m NOT giving up on you! I’m still going to work on your case on my off time! I’m not stopping until this is fixed, I promise!!”

“Are you… even allowed to do that?” You say, only a hair's breadth away from sniveling.

“Pfft, who cares?! What’re they gonna do, fire me for working MORE? For FREE??” They shake their head, laughing and shrugging. “Nope! I’m too valuable for that, trust me!”

Any signs of worry that were showing through the cracks when Kirby first came in have been immediately banished, but you’re familiar enough with them now to notice that they’re merely squashing them down to support you, rather than the doubt being completely gone on their end. 

“You don’t have to do that for me…” You laugh and wipe the corner of your eye, trying to maintain some of your composure. “I wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself because of me…”

“Haha- Yeah I do! That’s how this friendship thing works, if you’re not familiar! Sorry, not sorry.”

They’ve managed to cheer you up to the point of near-normalcy, distracting you with all the details of their most recent disastrous hookup, when your first real customer of the day comes in.

Devin walks in with her typical dreamy smile and if she notices the lingering vestiges of despair in the room, she’s acting blissfully unaware.

“Good morning!” She greets you as she approaches the counter, giving Kirby a friendly wave.

“Morning, Devin! Did you have an order in? I know you normally like to put it in beforehand, and I haven’t heard the order chime go off.” You double-check the datapad to confirm, but there’s nothing there.

She looks at you like a deer in headlights for a moment.

“...Oh, duh! I knew I forgot to do something before I walked here-” She exclaims, pulling out her device out of the pocket of her flowy, oversized, open-knit sweater. “I’ve got the list right here though. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Sure. It’s no problem.”

Luckily for you, after you’ve introduced them, Kirby manages to mostly keep her distracted while you package the order, in their typical social butterfly fashion.

“So I heard you’re getting married! That must be sooo exciting!!”

She goes on to talk about the wedding preparations, at great length and wandering detail.

“Oh- Oh- While I’m thinking about it! On your RSVP, you checked the +1 box, but you didn’t write a name down. I wanted to make sure I checked in so I can send the finished list to the calligrapher! I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

“Sorry- it must've slipped my mind.” You try not to wince as you slide her order across the counter to her. You meant to ask Carlyle, who you’re beyond sure would escort you, but you’re too worried that would be too obviously dating for whatever arcane laws dole out curse-based punishments. “I’ll message it to you after work, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” She gives you a wide, radiant grin, the pink boxes of cupcakes practically vibrating in her hands from the wiggling. “Ahhh, I’m so excited! It’s not far off now.”

“Nope. Looking forward to it!”

“Me too! You know, you’ve got such great taste, I can’t wait for you to see the flowers we picked. They’re like, the absolute cutest.” Her smile’s replaced with a look of shock, before she checks the time. “Oooh! Here I am gabbing when I’m already running late to set up this party!! Sorry, but I’ve gotta run. See you next time! Nice meeting you, Kirby!”

With that, she scurries out the door, as elegantly as one can scurry holding a box of cupcakes.

“That’s her?” Kirby slaps the countertop in disbelief, tilting their horns towards the door where she just exited..

“That’s her.” You confirm, a bemused smile settling on your lips. “But she’s my friend now, I think? So be nice.”

“I’m always nice! I mean- She’s very pretty and she seems sweet and all but SPIRITS, like-! Really? Your ex has a suuuuper specific type, huh???”

You snort.

“I’m. Just. Saying!! I’d be… very concerned… about mixing up names at the worst possible moment. Y’know?”

You can’t help but let out barely contained string laughs, finally covering your mouth with your hand.

“...You don’t think I’d look better with a septum piercing?”

“Oh honey, NO. No way- Absolutely not! Nothing against them but If you wanna rebel we can get you a different piercing that suits your whole look way better! Or maybe even a tattoo-” Kirby’s giggling transforms into an excited gasp. “We could get matching tattoos!”

“Absolutely! After the wedding, haha- Right now, I’ve gotta focus on what I’m going to do about my plus one situation…”

“Oh yeah? I figured with how well things are going with your dream man that wouldn’t even be a question.”

“Yeah. I want to ask him, but… the curse…? Wouldn’t that be defining things too much? It seems like dangerous territory, doesn’t it?”

“Hhhmm. If it was me, I’d ask him anyway, curse be damned. I’ve told you that from, like, the very beginning.” Kirby props their chin on their hand in thought. “But if you insist on being cautious, I can go with you instead, if you want. I just hate the idea of you having to sit through that alone!!”

“You would?”

“Yeah, of course!! We’ll go and quietly make fun of your ex all night, drinking elven wine on his parents’ tab!” They beam mischievously.

“That sounds like it might make it all bearable. Fun, even.”

“Doesn’t it???”

“Yes. But I do doubt your ability to do anything quietly.”

“Hehehe- You’re not wrong~”

You get back to work feeling a lot less anxious about attending this wedding. If you won’t be taking a date, at least you’ll be there with a friend in your corner.

Carlyle shows up not long after, and as usual, it’s like the weight of the world evaporates momentarily when you see him. This time he’s brought an overnight bag, because you’ve directly asked him to stay over tonight.

This particular Sunday is busy, but that’s expected. You do manage to get drinks out to your volunteer investigators, but you simply don’t have the time to sit and chat today. You’re relieved you already asked Carlyle to stay, at least- you’re sorely in need of some comfort and quality time after today’s blur of activity and emotional drain.

“Need any help?”

You smile at him from your place at the dish tank scrubbing a cake pan, reaching up to wipe your brow on the sleeve.

“No, I should be able to manage on my own. What did you have in mind for tonight?” You ask the gargoyle man as he approaches, trying to mask your weariness.

“Well, the plan was to make you dinner and then we can relax together, if that’s agreeable to you.” You feel his clawed hand gently press to your upper back in support, and you can’t help but cringe internally, knowing how damp with sweat your shirt surely is. “I hope you like pasta.”

“Oooh, that’s agreeable to me, alright. You don’t have any idea how agreeable that sounds.” 

“Hahah- I thought you might say that. I’m going to walk to the corner store for the ingredients. Would you like anything specific?”

“No. I should be done tidying up by the time you get back.” 

You shake your head and smile, then press a soft kiss to his lips. His hand squeezes the nape of your neck slightly before letting you go.

Conveniently, he's back right as you're finishing your last tasks- or at least the things you can't put off until you're back in the shop.

“Hmmm, it’s been too long since I’ve been up here.” Carlyle remarks happily as he follows you up the stairs to the living floor of your building, holding the brown paper bag of ingredients in one arm.

“I agree- Will you be okay on your own? I’m going to take a quick shower, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead. I’m not a professional, but I’m sure I can navigate around a kitchen.”

You rush a bit through your grooming routine, but instead of the usual stress relief, you can’t help but fret about your situation. Is inviting him over too much? He seems so confident that the full wrath of the curse isn’t going to be raining down on you from continuing on like you have, but you get a knot in your stomach every time you think about the potential negative repercussions.   

Somehow, you still manage to cleanse yourself of the day, if not your worry. 

Renewed dread begins to set in when you begin to rummage through your closet- you’ve been so busy lately and putting off laundry, that all of your clothes that would be acceptable for a casual evening-in are dirty. You consider just wearing your last set of work wear, but that seems uncomfortable. It’s still a bit early to fully kit out in sleepwear…

You can already smell aromatics cooking in the kitchen, so you don’t have much time to deliberate. You swallow your pride and regrettably pull a set of your silk pajamas on.

You walk out into the kitchen to the sound of a pan sizzling and the sink running.

To your relief, Carlyle’s face breaks into an expression of genuine appreciation rather than judgment about your choice in attire when he slightly turns towards you from his place at the sink.

Strangely, he keeps his hands under the water. The scent is a tell-tale acrid compared to before, so you assume that perhaps he needs a hand with the task load. You tilt your head in confusion as you approach, then peek into the pan on the cooktop, seeing that the contents have hopelessly scorched.

“Ah, I wouldn’t-” He abandons the sentence with a bemused sigh, seeing that you’re already picking up the handle and looking into the pan’s contents as you give it a shake. “I’m not usually this incompetent at cooking.”

The knife sits discarded on the cutting board at a haphazard angle. Next to it is a cluster of some sort of foreign object, and the knife has a similar looking coating on the edge. You squint slightly, trying to make out what it is.

It almost looks like tiny shards of glass- pink glass.

Trailing from the cutting board to the sink.

It takes a moment to click in your mind, but when it does, it hits you like a truck. You’re looking at Carlyle’s blood that has solidified into small, ragged gemstones the same color as his horns upon being exposed to the air.

An alarm bell goes off in your mind. You can recognize this now. After making a fool of yourself about his horns, you’ve made a point of reading up on gargoyles since.

“Oh! Carlyle, you’re hurt?!” You immediately remove the pan from the burner completely and turn off the heat, rushing to focus all your attention on him. “What happened?”

“My hand slipped- It’s only a cut. I’ll live, I promise.”

“Here- Let me see.” 

You find a clean hand towel. Once he's pulled his hand out of the stream of water, you dry his hand and inspect the damage. A short but deep cut has broken the skin between the base of his index finger and first knuckle. He winces as you put pressure on it to finish stymieing the bleeding. 

“How did that knife even cut through your stoneskin? It shouldn’t be that sharp…”

“No idea. But It's not that big of a deal, really.” He says, exasperated- but given the tone of his voice, you think he might actually be enjoying all the doting. “It’s not even that deep.”

You ignore his statement, continuing to fuss over him as you put the butterfly bandage on, even after confirming yourself that it’s only a minor injury.

“So. Takeout?” Carlyle smoothly suggests, patting down his dreadlocks while you kiss the bandage you’ve meticulously placed on his hand.

“You want to stick around after my curse almost chopped off your finger? You’re a mighty brave soul.”

“It’s not your fault. Accidents happen.” He shrugs. “Realistically, we don’t even know if it’s related…”

“...Yeah…” You agree, but you don’t believe it yourself. You’d be gnawing every fingernail you had down to nubs if you were alone right now.

His non-bandaged hand comes to rest on your jaw, gently tilting your head so your sightline is on him.

“I get the feeling you don’t believe me. That’s okay. But even if it’s the curse- I’m not afraid of it.”

Despite his reassurance, you can’t help but feel responsible. How can he be so confident in his safety when there’s this black cloud hanging over everything you touch? When it’s something that’s obviously- at least to you- threatening his wellbeing?

Maybe if you were present it wouldn’t have happened? 

���Though at this point, you’re starting to suspect it might’ve been worse if you were present.

You just hope if it is a side effect of your curse, and not your imagination, that nothing more serious happens.

About another week later, it’s a slow Sunday evening for your shop and it’s finally the day Carlyle’s witch contact is due to show up. It’s just after close and only you, Carlyle and Kirby are still lingering around the counter- waiting for this mystery woman who may or may not be able to provide some better insight about what’s afflicting you, even if it’s only by ruling out what it’s not.

Finally, a figure shows up on the other side of the shop window, testing the door before finding it unlocked and letting themself in. In walks a pink-skinned Elven cambion in a bell-sleeved black tea dress and heeled booties, complete with slouchy, pointed hat, and a near-bursting bag slung over her shoulder. The spade of her tail looks like a heart.

That’s a textbook witch, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Rosario.” Carlyle smirks at her playfully in greeting, confirming your suspicion. 

“Carlyle."

“Nice hat.” 

“Bureau typically doesn’t like it when you perform witchcraft on the public without the fitting uniform.” She frowns deeply, pointedly looking at Kirby. “So. Hat it is.”

“Well, at least someone besides Carlyle cares about regulations!” Kirby giggles, letting the potential slight glance right off them, and producing a business card that they hand to her. “Kirby. Cursebreaker. Bureau apologist.”

She takes the card and her nose scrunches up in disdain.

“You’re not going to be insufferable about this, are you?”

“Hhmmmm. That compleeeeetely depends on what you define as insufferable!” They grin brightly, and with their tone you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw them start batting their eyes next. “I’m here to support my friend. So, as long as your methods aren’t going to do harm and you don't do anything I'm like, super-duper mandated to report? Probably not. Though I've been told my voice can be very grating~!”

“Thank fuck.” She whips the witch hat off her head, leaving her crown-shaped horns and deep magenta braided-up hair uncovered, then shoving the offending black fabric into Carlyle’s hands.

“Right, I'm glad you've both decided to be adults about this and we’ve cleared that up before it could become an issue.” Carlyle nods in diplomatic approval, holding out a hand to direct Rosario's attention to you for a proper introduction, which he gives with such an unabashed tone of pride in his voice when he says your name that it makes your knees feel like they’re suddenly made of jelly. “This is your client for today.”

“Nice to meet you, Rosario.”

She hums in response, not even trying to hide the subtle pink glow in her eyes as she magically assesses you and the shop around you. Then, she gently brings her fingers to her brow in bewildered vexation.

“Well, if the horrible miasma permeating this whole place is any indication, I have a lot of work to do.”

“First, er… Would you like a cupcake?” You say, a bit more shakily than usual as you engage your typical ploy in endearing people to you upon first meeting.

“...Sure.”

She selects a blackout cupcake, which you have to admit, suits her whole aesthetic quite well.

She eats it in the most expressionless way you’ve ever seen a person eat a baked good in all the time you’ve been baking professionally. Thankfully Carlyle and Kirby are chatting in the background, otherwise the weight of the silence mixed with Rosario’s completely unmoved expression might make you actually go mad.

You briefly consider changing the name of the cupcake flavor she’s selected to ‘horrible miasma’, but ultimately decide against it.

“So, how do you and Carlyle know each other?” You crack under the pressure and attempt to make small talk.

Her eyes dart to Carlyle for a moment, but he’s caught up talking to Kirby about prepping the space for the ritual, and so she makes an executive decision on how to answer herself.

“Similar interests. Multiple.”

She does not elaborate.

“...Right. Thank you for coming, by the way, you’re really a lifesaver.” You move towards the till. “What do I owe you, by the way? Carlyle didn’t mention payment.”

“He already paid me. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ah, I was worried you’d say that.” You say sheepishly. “He’s so hard-headed. Here, I’ll pay you and you can refund him, maybe?”

“No- That’s not necessary.” She makes a noise in distaste. “Look. What he paid me with is intangible anyway. It wasn’t gold.”

You look at her quizzically. You’ve decided to let it go, but after she chews a bite of cupcake in thought, she seemingly decides to answer to dispel your curiosity.

“Furniture set.”

“Pardon?”

“He had a furniture set I wanted. A limited one that doesn’t get released anymore. The full set.”

For the first time since she’s set foot in your shop, Rosario almost seems vulnerable on this topic.

“Oh, the game he plays- You play it too?”

“...Game? Right. Yes. The game. Creature Crossroads. Do you play?”

“No, but I’m thinking about buying one of those little boxes so that Carlyle and I can play together.”

“Cute.”

As she finishes the treat up, you do see a faint smile form before it fades away just as fast. So, you’ll take that as a win.

“Thanks. Let’s get this show on the road, then. …No one’s afraid of snakes, right?”

You and your companions clear the counter, making space for Rosario to set down her bulging bag full of supplies. A pinkish-hued corn snake slithers out of her long sleeve. It doesn’t take long for it to slither up the guardrail of the stairs and out of sight. 

In a few minutes, a makeshift altar has been assembled on your shop’s counter, giving you a massive feeling of dissonance, even if it’s charming in its own way. Though, you could perhaps do without the carved animal bones…

Rosario draws a large chalk circle in the middle of the shop floor, punctuating the points of the star with different herbs, crystals, bones, and the like.

Your shop becomes a stage for Rosario methodically going through the steps of a smoky ritual- resin incense burning in a wide, flat ceramic holder in one hand; a dark, shiny blade being sliced through the air in succinct movements in the other. She stops every few steps, clearly severing things you can’t see. She occasionally says something in a firmly projected voice, in a language you don’t know, but sounds sort of like Elvish- not quite though.

Carlyle and Kirby assist within their ability, which mostly involves holding things or moving things, or pointing out areas that are still problems. It’s a painstaking process, and you simply try to stay out of the way while they work.

Magic is such a foreign and slightly intimidating thing for you, being something you don’t have the capability to fully experience. You didn’t even know more magic users than the fingers on one of your hands before you left your home village. Queen’s Isle isn’t known for its plentiful abundance of the magically adept, after all.

Despite that, you find that it has quite a lot of beauty to it. It’s hard not to appreciate the process like you do baking, or any other creative method that still has its rules.

Rosario starts from the top floor and meticulously covers the perimeter of every room, until she’s back at the shop’s front door nearly a full 40 minutes later, assumingly escorting the last of the negative energy out.

“Good news and bad news.” She says in her flat tone, pushing her thick-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose as she brings her equipment back to the counter. “Which do you want first?”

“I think I could use some hope first.” You decide quickly and reply.

“Your problem does seem to be spiritual in nature. And your shop is cleansed. For now.”

“And the bad news…?”

“It’s not going to stay that way as long as you’re here.” Her familiar returns to her, slithering off one of the shelves and onto her arm, where she strokes the snake’s head. “Because it’s not just on you. Whatever it is, it’s weird, and it’s coming from you.”

“But like, how is that even possible, though? He’s a numan. It’s not like he could be a budding sorcerer!!”

“And he’s not shown any signs of possession, either…” Carlyle adds, holding his chin in thought. “I’m not an expert, but if this were a typical possession, you’d think one of us would’ve at least observed the offending spirit by now.”

“Honestly? No clue. Never seen anything quite like it on a blank. But if the source isn’t removed from his person, it’s only going to keep building back up.”

“What does that entail, exactly?” You ask weakly, already feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Personal Exorcism. I can do that too, if you want. But FYI, it’s not what I’d call a pleasant experience. Extra bad if it’s a demon. And you’ll have to be restrained, in case whatever it is tries to take over and cause issues.”

“...Will it hurt?”

“It’s not supposed to. Not corporeal pain, at least.”

Somehow, that does not make you feel better. 

But you keep the thought to yourself, instead glancing at Carlyle and then Kirby, seeking reassurance.

“It’s worth a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Yeah! And we’ll be here with you the whoooooole time. Nothing’s gonna hurt you with us here~!”

“Then yes, let’s. I just want this curse gone.” You say, letting out a long breath and harnessing the resolve while you have it.

Rosario nods, and begins renewed preparations by touching up the large chalk circle on the floor in fresh lines, while Carlyle and Kirby find one of the only chairs in the shop that has arm rests and bring it out to the middle of the tile floor, inside the circle.

You enter the chalk circle with Rosario and sit down in the now suddenly ominous chair, your stomach already fittingly tying itself in knots from the building nerves.

You watch intently as Rosario’s hands firmly knot the manila fiber rope around your wrist and to the armrest, one after the other. You can’t see it, obviously, but there’s something else there. You can feel a tingle pricking your skin as her magic is undoubtedly imbued into the material.

Kirby discreetly feels the newly-enchanted rope with their fingertips, and you can see their eyes glow slightly. They’re checking behind her magic, you realize, when the glow dissipates as quickly as it appeared, and they wink at you knowingly.

“Looks good!” They say to Rosario in glowing approval as they leave the circle and head to a safe spot by the counter. “You really know what you’re doing!!”

She simply scoffs in response, stepping away to gather the rest of her tools from the counter and leaving room for Carlyle to step in.

“Not exactly my personal taste…” Carlyle smiles, speaking softly enough only you can hear and clearly trying to break some of the tension by making light of the situation. He tries the rope at your wrist, making sure it’s not too tight. “But I suppose I can still appreciate it.”

It works, and you snort out a laugh, unable to muffle the unflattering noise with your hands incapacitated.

He squeezes your shoulder and leans over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. Then he moves over to join Kirby where they’re standing nearby.

Then it’s just you and Rosario in the circle; you, seated and bound; and her standing in front of you with the dagger that at this point you surmise to be her focus in one hand, and her snake familiar in the other.

Then she starts speaking again, just as firmly and in the same commanding tone as when she was cleansing the space..

It’s a small thing, at first.

Barely a small buzzing in the back of your head. 

But it quickly grows into an almost unbearable roar. You screw your face up, turn your shoulders in- anything to try to protect yourself from that horrible rumbling sensation.

An impossible wind picks up in your closed shop, whipping through your hair and buffeting against your face.

But you can’t, because it’s coming from inside. 

Even lacking a sense for magic, you can feel the bolts of energy crackle in the air around you.

They were right. It doesn’t hurt, exactly.

But it is a deeply unpleasant sensation.

It feels like something’s being ripped out of you, from the inside. Like velcro being slowly and forcefully parted. That familiar weight in your chest, pressing at your rib cage as it’s pulled from you like a magnet’s on the other side.

Everything’s shaking- the stools at the counter vibrating across the floor, the dishes on the shelves rattling against the secured doors. Even the light fixtures are swaying back and forth, the lights themselves beginning to flicker.

You can barely hear it at first over the sound of arcane activity all around you and Rosario’s frankly booming voice, but somewhere in the maelstrom there’s the piercing sound of metal whining. You’d be plugging your ears if you could, instead grinding your molars at the noise.

Even you can feel it now; the threads holding whatever it is in your chest are starting to fray. All that accumulated magical tension in the air nears its breaking point.

Rosario’s chanting reaches a fever pitch.

Just a little farther. It’ll be over. If you can stand just a bit more-

The rest happens so fast.

A groan of thick metal bending, then a loud-

SNAP-

Your eyes snap open and there’s a blur in the corner of your vision, something of considerable weight falling at speed off to the side, then the sound of glass shattering and metal crunching against the tile.

KKRRRSHH-

Rosario immediately falls silent, and the wind and buzz dies down immediately.

You’re stunned still, but it’s clear what has happened when your brain catches up. 

One of the massive overhead industrial lights hanging from your shop's ceiling has fallen, specifically where Carlyle was standing mere moments ago.

You can see Kirby now, unhurt- they’re scrambling to their hooves where they dove out of the way.

…But not Carlyle. He’s nowhere to be seen.

A sense of panic fills you, crushing your heart in a vice grip. The only thing that matters to you is laying eyes on him.

“CARLYLE!!” You all but screech, violently and unthinkingly tugging at the rope, not even noticing the physical discomfort in your desperation to get to him. You’ll gnaw the ropes off yourself with your teeth, if you have to. “L-Let me out!”

Rosario comes to your aid, her expression grim.

“Fuck-” She gets one of your wrists free, then struggles with your bindings while you try to wriggle out of them in a panic. “Hold still, dammit! You’re going to hurt yourself- Ggh-” 

Rosario finally manages to get the blade between the rope and your skin, to slice you free. You spring out of the chair and push past her (as politely as possible given the circumstances). The chair overturns and clatters against the floor behind you moments later. Glass shrapnel crunches under your shoes as you run over, but you don’t care.

You reach them just in time to see Carlyle wincing on the floor flat on his back, where he's barely cleared the path of the broken light. His clothes are crumpled, covered with ceiling dust and tiny shards of glass, and one of his horn caps swivels loosely on its base.

Kirby holds Carlyle by the elbow, helping him get to his feet.

Unharmed.

“Good, you're okay too!!” Kirby says. They have a small, superficial cut dotting a line of blood droplets on their forehead, no doubt from the flying shrapnel. 

He’s okay. He’s okay. Thank the Lady.

You immediately feel yourself release the breath you’ve been holding, and throw yourself into his arms. You squeeze him so tightly you might bruise yourself against the rigid nature of his body, but you don’t mind. You barely manage to keep from sobbing into his chest, instead grasping the sides of his jaw and peppering kisses onto his face.

“What a fucking mess.” Rosario gripes, rubbing her forehead, her makeup beginning to run at the outer corners of her eyes from sweat.

“Hahah- You can say that again!” Kirby grins at her, but it just makes her grimace harder. There’s a small tremor in their voice despite their calm facade, and they’re probably not fully experiencing the feelings from the event quite yet.

“Ugh. Come here. I have bandaids and disinfectant in my kit.” She says, motioning to her forehead. Kirby then touches their own forehead quickly, smearing the minuscule amount of blood in a streak. “Ugh.”

Rosario and Kirby's conversation continues as they approach the counter and start discussing how to proceed, leaving you to look over Carlyle more closely now that you’ve released him from your vice grip.

He’s screwing his horn cap back on straight by feel, smiling like nothing even happened.

“You did well- kept it together beautifully.” Your eyes meet his. They're warm with affection, even when you can see a few new light scratches gouged into the stone material of his face. “Even if the results weren’t what we hoped.”

Your affliction almost just got him killed.

And yet, he still seems so pleased with you, all the same- Looking at you adoringly like this- Praising you, even!

Such a wonderful, kind person, potentially snuffed from the world just like that, in a freak accident that didn’t even need to happen.

And it would've been your fault.

…The thought makes you sick to your stomach.

“I can't keep doing this- This was too big to brush off-” You blurt out and shake your head wildly, your hands coming to rest on the shoulders of his button up. “I can't let you get hurt because of me!”

“But I’m not hurt. I'm fine.” He says in a soothing voice, squeezing the fingers on one of your hands in an attempt to comfort you. “It's okay.”

“It’s not okay!”

The welling tears threatening to spill over finally breach. Shaking, you force yourself to say what you're thinking before you talk yourself out of it.

You can't be the reason he gets hurt, or worse.

Your tone is deathly serious even as you struggle to choke out the words.

“Carlyle- We can't see each other anymore.”

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[ee-where-they-shouldnt-be]

REQUESTS: OPEN

Queue posts from 3PM - 5PM CST 1* per day

(*this number changes depending on how many asks i get, though i try to keep it at 3 or more)

rules for requests

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about the mod

- Call me mod Sylvie, I Use He/Him - I don't kin or relate to Sylvie in any way, an asker said that he runs the blog and I ran with it. also Sylvie is a cool name so why not call myself it - I try to get to these asap but I have sleep issues (ironic considering my Sylvie theme) that make it hard to have the time or energy. - I love answering random asks about stuff, ask away (btw, if requests are closed non request related asks are still fine!) - I haven't abandoned the cardboard cut out of Syvlie, I just need to figure out whats going on with my printer

tags I tend to use

epithet erased where they shouldnt be - main tag/ any photo with a character edited into it

not ee where they shouldnt be - off topic

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the pain of not being able to reply with a sideblog - replying to a comment (before the update)

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not a place just silly edits - its in the tag. there was no place mentioned so it takes place in a blank void

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more to be added as I use em

If I sort things via tags I'll put them here for easy access!

(check reblogs for the post with character tags, reblog dont show up when searching the tags but this way still allows you to search my account for specific characters! comment if i forget to add any)

[chaithetics]

The Millers Buttercup Chapter Four

Pairing: outbreak/commune! Tommy Miller x F reader

Word count: 2.2K

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, fluff, mentions of pregnancy loss. But mostly fluff.

Note: I'm so sorry for the delay in this and that it's a shorter one! It has been a WILD time lately and I thought some fluff/more wholesome stuff is better after all the angst and pain of the last chapter. I hope it makes up for that pain, let me know your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tag list. Thanks pals!

Joel had just stood there, staying put as you’d left the kitchen, frozen like a deer in headlights. He wanted to keep talking to you, he was feeling nostalgic, something that was a rare indulgence in this world. But in a house like this, with you, and with you like this. He could pretend, it was safer and too easy to do. But Joel let you walk off, the sadness etched into your face was so obvious and he could see you had tears forming. He wanted to follow you but was unsure of what to do. 

You left the kitchen and went to the bathroom, your vision became a little bit blurry as tears clouded them, they were starting to streak your cheeks and you tried to take a deep breath in as you wiped them away. It just led to you choking out a small sob. 

You knew it was silly, it was childish and borderline melodramatic but during your childhood, you had a penchant for drama and you just wanted to feel your feelings. You closed the door as you got to the bathroom and then you sat on the floor, you had your hands against the cold tiles and it felt grounding. You knew that you would need to call out to Tommy in a few minutes to help you up but you weren’t too bothered by that right now.

You hadn’t thought about the miscarriage in a while and you’d been able to compartmentalise your Joel-related trauma into a box in a locked basement with a conveniently missing key, that you never really needed to think about. Warm tears were burning your cheeks as you cried silently, and it was an odd contrast with the coolness of the tiles. You moved your left hand to rub your stomach, it was more self-soothing than anything but that’s what you needed. Some peace, you knew there would be crying and more fatigue once this baby was born but currently they were a source of peace for you. You choked on a little sob as you thought about the miscarriage and how bizarre it was that Joel only wanted to talk about it with you now, while you were pregnant with his brother’s child. Tommy and I’s second child, you thought. It felt like a cruel joke. You knew Joel could be kind, he was just so traumatised and you didn’t know why he had to do all of this now. It was unfair and you told yourself you were entitled to feel melodramatic or however else you wanted to feel. 

You sighed and wiped your eyes, getting most of the tears off your face and then called out for Tommy. You felt mostly done with your pity party and were at the stage now where you wanted a hug from Tommy and some food, you and the baby were definitely hungry now. Having emotions was exhausting.

Almost instantly as you called, Tommy had made his way to just outside of the bathroom and knocked before coming in. He took in the sight of you, sitting on the floor, with watery red eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. There was a flash of sadness in his eyes at seeing you upset but he gave you one of his charming smiles. Tommy closed the door and came closer, you could tell he was getting ready to help you up, and you shook your head at him. 

“No Tommy, sit with me please?” You asked quietly, putting your arm out. “Of course buttercup.” He said giving you a sweet smile as he sat down next to you on the floor. He kissed your forehead as he gently wiped the tears on your cheeks with his thumb. He started to rub your swollen stomach gently. You tilted your head against his shoulder and snuggled into him as much as you could as you sighed. 

“I’m sorry buttercup,” Tommy said as he moved his hand away from your face now that the tears were gone and placed it around you as he continued to give attention to the bump of your child. 

“You don’t need to be sorry Tommy.” You responded, moving your hand to cup the side of his face, he tilted his head so it pressed more against you and he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes. It made it easier to just focus on you, he just wanted to block everything out and indulge in the thought that all that mattered was how your hand felt against his skin, the sound of your voice, your smell. He kept his eyes closed as he admitted aloud, “I never thought I’d see him again.” 

“I know.” You moved your hand slightly so that you could trace patterns along his face, using the soft freckles as a guide, artistic inspiration. You didn’t think you’d ever see Joel again, let alone that there would be a Miller family reunion in these circumstances. You still felt upset but looking at Tommy helped, you just felt love and it was almost easy to try to forget everything else. You froze for a second as that thought reminded you exactly why you were upset. “Joel brought up the miscarriage.” 

Tommy’s hand stopped caressing your bump for a moment, he looked into your eyes and you could see they were filled with great concern, he wasn’t even trying to mask that from you. There was no point. “Oh, buttercup-”

“I-I honestly hadn’t thought about it in forever. It’s just so surreal and- well I don’t know honestly.” You said looking at him, there was comfort in his eyes and it reassured you somewhat. “It’s just a lot.” You breathed out as you leaned into him more pressing your head against his warm chest. 

“I’m so sorry, what did he say…?” Tommy asked hesitantly, Joel’s reaction to the miscarriage had been awful when it happened and Tommy wouldn’t tolerate anything like that. “He-he just asked if it was his fault. Because of this.” You said as you gestured towards your stomach and thought about the family you and Tommy had. Tommy sighed, pressing his forehead against the top of your head and his arms became a bit firmer around you. “I’m sorry buttercup.” 

“Don’t be.” You whispered to him and he kissed your forehead as he asked, “How are you feeling?” “A bit weird, I’m feeling a bit drained and well hungry.” You answered, you were hoping that after Tommy helped you up he’d make you a snack, you had no doubt that he would. 

“Craving anything?” Tommy asked as a grin started to light up his perfect face. You smirked at him, letting out a little giggle because it was silly, “You know what I’m craving?” You asked and he already knew, he always did. 

“What are you craving buttercup?” He asked as if he was clueless as a chuckle came out. 

“A burger,” you said letting out a small, slightly dramatic groan, “Like a ridiculous burger from Mcdonald's or well, anywhere…That’s what I could go for.” You said looking at Tommy with a smirk on your face at the thought of it. Tommy laughed softly, as his hand continued gently rubbing the bump with the growing child. 

“Do you know what I could go for buttercup?” Tommy asked, you tilted your head to look at him and you could see the mischievous grin etched proudly onto his face. “What…?” You asked curiously as you subconsciously ran your hands through his dark hair. 

“A cigarette or two…” He spoke in a slightly but noticeably thicker Southern drawl than usual and chuckled as he waited for your reaction. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and loudly scoffed.

“That’s a mighty deadly habit cowboy, one you shouldn’t be missing… You have a wife and children now!” You said imitating, his southern accent with some more outlandish flourishes with another scoff as he laughed. “Are you mocking me?” He asked in between laughs as his arms tightened around you affectionately. “I wouldn’t eva’ dream of that now buttercup!” You responded in the same voice enunciating your words as laughs came out. 

“Now, I don’t understan’ how you’re not from the South when ya talk like tha’” Tommy said as he kissed you lovingly and firmly on the lips, “You’re a real Southern Belle.” He said affectionately as he brushed a piece of your hair out of your face. You laughed, almost squirming in his arms as he held you. 

“No Tommy, that’s you,” You said back in your normal voice. “What?” “You’re the Southern Belle in this relationship, that charm and hospitality lured me in, you’re a real Scarlett O’Hara.” You said with a little laugh. 

“Scarlett who?” Tommy asked he was smiling but it was clear he was clueless. 

You kissed his jaw and told him it was a character from Gone with the Wind who was a pretty famous Southern Belle, which he told you he’d slept through when they played that film in high school. You laughed and kissed him again, not entirely shocked by that. 

“Tommy?” You asked he looked at you, he was glad that you’d laughed and you seemed to be in better spirits but he was still worried and your voice was a bit more sober compared to what it had been mere seconds ago. 

“Yes, darlin’?” 

“Can you make me something as close to a burger as possible please?” You asked looking at him pleadingly with puppy dog eyes. While Isabel looked more like Tommy and had his eyes, her puppy dog eyes face mirrored yours exactly. Tommy was sure that she’d seen you do it and work and she knew that it would work like a charm on Tommy, that’s what it was, not the fact that he loved you and your daughter more than anything and wasn’t wrapped around your little fingers. 

“Somethin’ burger-ish coming right up.” He said with a smirk on his face. He then stood up and started to carefully help you up, when you were up you stood for a moment just in his arms and Tommy held you there. You breathed in his warmth, his musky yet distinctly unique scent and pecked a soft kiss on his cheek. He looked at you and you nodded. 

You both left the bathroom, your significantly smaller hand was in his large, warm hand as you walked. You went to sit in the lounge as Tommy made his way to the kitchen, to fulfil his Southern Belle craving duties. You sat on the couch with Isabel and Ellie, Joel wasn’t in the room and it didn’t sound like he was in the kitchen. 

“Mama!” Isabel excitedly said as she climbed over Ellie to get to you. “Does he wanna play?” She asked excitedly. Whenever the baby kicked she viewed it as the fetus wanting to play with their family, she was also now convinced that her sibling was a boy. She placed her small hands on your stomach and looked at you expectantly. 

“A baby brother huh? How do you know that sweet girl?” You asked as you put a hand through her hair. “I can just feel it, mama,” Isabel said as a serious look of concentration etched itself onto her young face as she focused on your stomach. “Well, maybe you need to talk to him. Might be having a rest.” You said smiling at her and looking at Ellie who sat next to you somewhat awkwardly watching. 

“Wake up! I know you wanna play, come talk to me, you need to meet Ellie, she’s like my new best friend-” Isabel started to ramble and then stopped when she felt a small kick, she broke out in giggles at it, “Yes!” She looked at you and Ellie with a big smile on her face at the feeling. You laughed and patted her hair affectionately, Ellie watched on smiling in awe at the scene despite feeling slightly out of place. 

“Do you want to feel Ellie?” You looked at her softly with an encouraging smile and asked, she nodded somewhat eagerly and then put her hand on your stomach. Isabel moved Ellie’s hand to where she’d felt the kicking and was excitedly rambling to Ellie about it. Then again there was more kicking, and Ellie’s eyes and mouth widened at that. She’d never witnessed something like that, let alone in such a warm context like this. She started to laugh with Isabel and you smiled warmly at her. 

“I don’t think it’s a boy,” Ellie said as she kept her hand on your stomach with awe all over her face, you nodded at her and smoothed some of her hair down, it was an odd touch, Ellie wasn’t used to gestures like that but she felt safe around you and appreciated how kind and welcoming you and Isabel were to her. Isabel saw her as a friend and a cousin and you had no problem with seeing her as family. “Well, you both have pretty good odds on your side.” You said with a large smile, Ellie laughed and nodded, “I guess so.” She said as she felt some more kicking which made Isabel loudly giggle. You smiled at the girls while they were entertained by the future Miller having a go at kickboxing.

Tag list: @pedritosdarling @read4funz @undermoonlightwalk @daddy-din

[viaviv124]

Would you put your angst bowuigi fanfic as an ao3 book!? (I really hope you do!)

Uhhh which one? I have a bunch of concepts, even if i didn't share it here lol. What i am currently working on is my Evil Luigi idea. Not a full story because i cannot finish things but like establishing it so the idea is out of my head. However, since there IS a split "route" basically where Bowuigi happens and where not i will either go for Bowuigi completely or i will basically split the chapters from then on, one being the bowuigi route and one being the route where Bowser stays in an alliance with Peach. (if you curious, i did state my entire Evil Luigi concept before and messed around with it a bit and also made a small illustration). But yeah, that will definetly be very open ended.

As for my other concepts like the timeloop one, probably not? Again, i have trouble finishing things and i have motivation to actually write like once every 4+ months or so and i already have like 5 projects open. So if i can control myself i won't start anything else because it most likely won't be finished. Ever. That's why i share concepts in such detail and i also dont mind elaborating more things i imagined to it but never stated, so the idea is at least somewhat out. The Evil Luigi thing is just the exception because my friend and I mess around with him a lot and one day i was very motivated to write. (i am only 3 Paragraphs in please have mercy-)

As for my other concepts, you can do with them what you want, essentially. I'd love to see people liking my ideas so much they'd like to work with them as well. Half my headcanons or concepts i share are generally just a call-out to anyone talented or willing enough to actually draw or write something to it, no matter how silly it is. When someone made a shitpost based on my coupier Luigi post i was very happy. So yeah, if you like any of my ideas, use it! If you need any more background Info for it from me because you cant imagine a few things etc, feel free to ask!

TL;DR: No, i probably won't touch my Bowuigi concepts aside from shitposting or adding onto them when i have ideas. But you can use them however you'd like! Just tag me in them so i can see what you made!

[bambirex]

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 12

Pairings: Geraskefer, Yennskier, Geraskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made up lore, fertility issues, completely made up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, intersex Jaskier, Ciri whump, Geralt whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care

Rating: mature

Full word count: 37,220 words

Chapter word count: 2,989 words

Chapters: 12/?

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Jaskier and Yennefer have a heart to heart that helps the both of them get over their fears and doubts. Geralt teaches Ciri some important things.

Author's notes: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for a lot of pregnancy talk in this chapter, especially leaning into the forced/unwanted side of it, so if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, please, skip this chapter or at least the first half of it for your own sake!

Read on Ao3

*

Positioning his lute against his growing belly was getting harder and harder to do each day. The first time he experienced a pregnancy, Jaskier felt tremendously sad over this, since playing his instrument and singing along was one of the only small comforts in his life while he was in captivity. He wanted to bash his lute against the wall, claw his stomach open and tear himself from the inside out when it first happened. He screamed and cried and mourned the life that was taken away from him.

It never got any easier, but his emotions dulled enough for it to be a bit more bearable. He became desensitized to the discomfort, to the alien feeling of being a guest inside his own body. Jaskier could barely remember a time when it truly belonged to only him.

Strangely, now as he struggled to place his lute over the parts of his lap that weren't yet covered by his bump, he laughed. Something that used to be so humiliating, was now almost endearing. Somehow, he didn't hate the child growing within him.

He was never allowed to think of them as children because he knew he would get too attached, then, and it would hurt all the more when he had to give them away to the humans. He thought of them as invaders of his body, as things that were put in there for someone else's needs. He had to, because it made it easier to handle the heartache of seeing yet another baby ripped out of his arms. They were never his, not even for a fleeting moment.

Jaskier didn’t know what the future had in store for him, but he was certain he was never going back to Master. He would rather die than live like that again, as a pretty decoration, an entertaining toy. He found something that finally gave meaning to his sad, lonely life. Maybe it was too soon to say, but Jaskier felt like he's found himself a family. And he didn't want to leave them.

He felt a small kick against his belly and he chuckled.

"What, you like my misery? You find it funny that I can't play properly?"

Another kick. Jaskier ran his hand over the place where he felt the little feet. He swallowed when he felt them press against his hand.

"I don't know what to think of you," Jaskier told the baby honestly, rubbing over his swollen stomach. "What am I allowed to call you? Are you mine? Kick once for no, twice for yes."

Nothing happened. Jaskier chuckled at his own silliness. Then, two little kicks in quick succession. Jaskier's eyes welled with tears.

"Don't lie to me," Jaskier whispered, "I can't handle it if you're just joking."

He heard the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up to see Yennefer standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hey," Jaskier greeted her, forcing a smile through his tears. Yennefer stared at him for a few seconds with an unreadable expression, before she spoke.

"Hi. You okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Jaskier chuckled. "Just, uh, talking to myself. No big deal."

"You weren't talking to yourself," Yennefer pointed out as she walked inside the room. "You were talking to the baby."

"Fine, maybe I was," Jaskier held his hands up in defeat. "Ciri is downstairs cooking with Geralt. I'm bored."

"You could have joined us," Yennefer told him. She sat on the bed. "Geralt was asking about you."

"Oh," Jaskier felt his cheeks warm up. He shrugged with a sheepish smile. "He must be wondering why I'm not eating everything in his house for once."

"He likes you," Yennefer said, her smile genuine. "And I think you like him, too."

"Well, you can't deny he's a gorgeous hunk of a man, Yennefer."

"It's more than that."

Jaskier snorted softly. "Then I guess I'm not alone with that. I've seen how you look at him, too. You can't deny you've warmed up to the witcher."

The flush on Yennefer's cheeks, and her fleeting smile made Jaskier grin.

"Thought so."

"Shut up, you moron," Yennefer scoffed, her cheeks still pink.

She looked down on Jaskier's stomach, her small smile fading. Jaskier bit his lip. He knew what it meant. She tried to hide it, but she always looked at him that way. There was a deep ache, a longing in her eyes.

There was a time when Jaskier thought he and Yennefer would never get along well. There was a time where he thought that being from such vastly different species, they would never find common ground. And yet, there was a bond between them, which got deeper and deeper as they went through all the horrible things back at their owner - and now, they were going through something else together, something lovely. At the bottom of it all, there was him, a chatty fae who fell in love with a sassy witch. And he may have not known what exactly did Yennefer feel for him, he knew she trusted and cared for him.

He knew about the pain Yennefer hid under her angry exterior, the loneliness and the loss. And like he's promised her he would try and make sure she would get through things okay when she was dragged home from the market all those months ago, he was more than ready to keep caring for her the way she deserved.

And that care had to come with honesty.

"I know you think it's a gift," Jaskier started. He cupped his belly, Yennefer's eyes following his movements. She swallowed audibly.

"That I can carry children."

"It looks like that to me," Yennefer replied honestly. "I can't do that. I wish I could."

"It would be a gift, I think. If I was allowed to do it on my own terms."

He took a deep breath. The baby shifted in him again, as if trying to calm him.

"I was very young when I had the first child. I was terrified. I wasn't prepared. And I did not want it, not like that, with the knowledge it's not really mine. That they would be taken away at the end."

His throat tightened painfully. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him all the while.

"You carry them inside your body for months, but you don't get to cherish it. The kicks, the little movements... they do not belong to you. Your body... it's not yours anymore. It's a vessel for someone else. And you go through all that pain, that discomfort, completely alone. Not with a mate to hold your hand, not with a family to have your back. You have a heartless Master who only checks on you to make sure you would deliver a healthy product. That's what he called them. The babies. He called them products."

He blinked against the tears in his eyes. He heard Yennefer take in a sharp, shaky breath.

"I don't hate being pregnant," Jaskier explained quietly. "I guess I did, in the beginning, but only because it was forced on me. I wanna have a baby. A child. I do. I wanna know what it's like to bring my own child into this world, to myself and people that would care about them. But I never had that, and I kept brushing it under the rug but Yennefer, I hate that I never had that."

When he looked up, he noticed Yennefer's eyes were shiny with tears. It made his composure crumble even more.

"I was much lonelier than I let on. And then... you came along."

He gave Yennefer a wobbly smile. "You, and your strormy violet eyes, your death threats and your constant hissing. Your acidic insults and your thinly masked self-loathing that manifested in hatred for everyone. You... and your lonely, hurt heart. You and your emotions that you weren't allowed to feel. The kindness, the love, the gentleness in you. The beauty that was not dangerous, but soft. Something that deserved to be cherished."

A tear ran down Yennefer's face as she told him to stop it. But Jaskier wasn't finished.

"I love you, Yennefer," he told her as he wiped at his eyes with a wet little laugh. "You're my exact opposite and yet, you are just like me. Lonely. Used and abused by humans. Abandoned and humiliated. You came along and it was like looking into a mirror. I don't know what this thing is between us, but I know I never want to lose it."

He reached for Yennefer's hand carefully. Yennefer immediately squeezed his without hesitation.

"And then we met Ciri. This brave girl who's suffered like us, whose heart remained kind and pure despite what she's been through. A true inspiration. A wonderful child. The first child that maybe... will stick around. I love her. Like she's my child, and that's silly, right? But it's true. I care about her. And I don't care who wants to get their dirty hands on her, I won't let them. I will grow a whole forest around them and bury them under the trees before I'd let them hurt her."

"Who knew you had such a violent streak in you," Yennefer chuckled softly. Jaskier shook his head.

"You bring this out of me. Not violence, but... bravery. Something I lacked before. Geralt... he's making me brave, too. Because I see this man, who isn't even supposed to feel anything and yet he feels so much. He's a wonderful father, a great friend... so much more human than the ones who call themselves such. He's strong, not just in his body, but in his heart. He would do everything to protect his daughter, and now us. And it means a lot to me. That he had no reason to trust us, but he still does, that he's willing to put everything aside to keep everyone safe. I love him."

Tears fell onto his shirt, soaking the soft material as he looked down on his stomach.

"And this baby...I don't know, for the first time in my life, I think maybe I'll get to keep them? They might be a part of me that will finally stay. I want them to. I want them to be mine. I feel like after we escaped our owner, we all got a new life. And I want this life to be great, I want to share that life with you and Geralt and Ciri and maybe this baby, too... because I think I love this baby."

He broke down sobbing, wringing an arm over his face. He felt arms wrap around him and pull him close, fingers threading through his hair soothingly. He buried his face in Yennefer's chest as she shushed him.

"Thank you," Yennefer whispered, her own tears falling onto Jaskier's head. "Thank you, for telling me this. It means a lot, you know? Because I envied you so much for being able to get pregnant. I hated you for it. My own body did not belong to me either. It never did. It was used like yours. And it was hollow. Devoid of the things yours had. I always wanted to create something but the humans made sure I never could."

She pulled back to cup Jaskier's face, gently making him look into her eyes.

"But you know what? Fuck the humans. Fuck everyone who made us feel like we weren't worthy. Who told us we were only useful for our womb, or who made us feel like shit for the lack of it. Because we both create beautiful things, Jaskier. Look at us! Look at what we have together! Look at what we're doing with Ciri, with Geralt! It may not be much, but it means something, right?"

"Right," Jaskier sniffled. He let himself lean into Yennefer's touch as she gently wiped his tears away with her thumb.

"I never thought I'd have this," Yennefer admitted. She pressed her forehead against Jaskier's, taking a deep breath.

"I thought I would be alone all my life. And I kept saying I was fine with that, because who would ever love me, anyway? I was called scary, dangerous, hideous... I never had a bond with anyone. The closest to it was another drepima. We spent like, what, four days together? I did like her. But then she was beaten to death. And I promised myself I would never get attached to anyone. My kind isn't cut out for that."

"You never told me about this," Jaskier said quietly. Yennefer swallowed.

"I know. I only just told Geralt about it, too. He was the one that pointed out that it may have hurt me more than I let on. I believed I wasn't deserving of care, of friendship, love... of a family. And I genuinely did not like you in the beginning."

Jaskier chuckled. "Yeah, that much was obvious."

"I hated you for being everything I couldn't be, and I hated you for still being so kind to me. It scared me. To be treated with care. I wanted to keep you away from me, but... I love you too, you little asshole. You've grown on me like a particularly clingy, annoying moss, and you know what? I'm fine with that. And I'm fine with sticking with you. And Ciri... she does feel like a child to me, too. Something I thought I could never have. Geralt... yes, I do love him. He's different from what I imagined him to be. All my life, I've been surrounded by hatred and fear. Chaos and destruction. Now... now, it feels like I'm building something. A family, maybe."

"You deserve a family, Yen," Jaskier told her, the nickname slipping out easily. Yennefer didn't seem to mind, if her smile was anything to go by.

"We all deserve a family. I know I probably can't get my own back. I'm not sure they're even alive. But that does not mean I have to be alone, right? We could be a family. The four of us."

"Five," Yennefer corrected him softly. Jaskier noticed she was looking at his stomach again - and for the first time, instead of the painful longing and envy, he saw something else in her eyes. Something like awe.

"Can I..." Yennefer whispered, her smile wobbling, "would you mind if I...?"

"No," Jaskier replied softly. He took Yennefer's shaking hands and guided them to his belly. Yennefer took in a sharp breath as she placed her palm over the swell of Jaskier's belly.

"How do you feel?" Jaskier asked her. Yennefer opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then, she smiled again, bright and genuine. Jaskier's heart fluttered at the sight.

"Great," Yennefer replied earnestly. She let out a soft gasp along with Jaskier when the baby kicked again, fluttering excitedly against Jaskier's skin.

"They like you," Jaskier grinned. Yennefer laughed through her tears as she gently caressed the curve of his belly, making the baby kick and roll inside him again.

The sight of Yennefer smiling as she held his belly was everything to him. It was beautiful, genuine. It was perfect.

"Yen," he whispered, causing her to look up at him curiously. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Yennefer replied without hesitation. Jaskier gently cupped her cheeks as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Yennefer's hands remained on his belly as she kissed him back happily, melting into him.

--

Ciri could barely believe her ears when Geralt told her it was time for her to learn some swordsmanship. She's been begging him for ages to teach her how to fight, but Geralt always refused, claiming it was better if she stayed out of trouble.

"What changed now?" She asked, curiously watching Geralt packing away their food and grabbing two swords. He handed Ciri the lighter one with a smile.

"I decided to stop being dishonest with you," Geralt told her. He placed a hand on her back as he led her outside. "Now you know everything about yourself. You know why I said the world was a dangerous place. You were right when you said you're stronger than anyone in this house. Not just because of your powers."

He placed his left foot forward and drew out his sword, motioning for Ciri to do the same. Ciri stood next to him and mimicked his movements.

"I will keep protecting you," Geralt promised as he swung his sword around in the air, deliberately slowing his movements down so Ciri could easily copy him. "But that does not mean you should be kept from protecting yourself. Yennefer will help you control your powers, and I can help show you how to fight even when you can't rely on them."

Ciri grinned at him. There was something different about Geralt now: he was a bit less stoic, a bit more open. Ciri wondered if revealing her family's history was what did this to him, or his clearly growing feelings for Yennefer and Jaskier. It was perhaps a combination of both.

"We're supposed to be training," Geralt reminded her as he caught her staring. Ciri laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just happy, you know? Things are so scary now, but you're making them okay."

She placed her sword down on the ground and hugged Geralt tightly. Geralt wrapped his arms around her in return.

"We're all gonna be okay, right?" She asked against Geralt's chest. Geralt hummed as he gently ruffled her hair.

"I'll make sure of it," he promised. "We all will. No matter what happens, we won't abandon each other."

"That includes Jaskier and Yennefer too, right?" Ciri asked, looking up at Geralt hopefully. Geralt smiled.

"Of course."

Ciri put her head back on his chest with a happy smile. Right now, no matter how uncertain the future may looked, she truly believed they would all be okay.

[seadeepy]

10 fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags

Finally, a tag game I'm going to absolutely ace, pun intended!!

tagged by: @queerofthedagger (and I think @schitthappens, a while ago)

rules: List ten of your fandoms and your favorite character from each!

BBC Merlin — Merlin

Schitt's Creek — Alexis Rose

The Locked Tomb Series — Palamedes Sextus

Star Trek — Spock

House MD — James Wilson

Star Wars — Obi-Wan Kenobi

Mob Psycho 100 — Mob

The Sandman — Dream of the Endless

Leverage — Eliot Spencer

ATLA — Toph Beifong

tagging: @unconventionalcat @st4rm41d @blackandwhiteandrose @vanillahigh00 @januarium @paintedpigeon1 @zaharya @schweetheart @thewildmother @sspaz1000 (do my SC friends even have 10 fandoms? time to find out :P)

More yelling about my choices under the cut, which isn't required but I'm psychologically compelled to do it:

Merlin — I almost put Gwaine, but the thing about Merlin is... he's so kind despite his loneliness. He's so brave despite his grief. And his devotion to Arthur is beautiful, even when it's also heartbreaking. I love how much he cries, but also how much he cries and kicks ass anyway, which is something fic writers seem to miss a lot of the time. He's emotional but he's also very capable.

Alexis — haha, surprise!!! I love D/P as a ship so goddamn much, but Alexis' character growth is fucking unparalleled. Annie Murphy's acting choices are phenomenal — just watch KCFH to see how much of Alexis' persona was carefully manufactured as character-building, not Annie's actual mannerisms. And to go from a vapid socialite to a boss-ass businesswoman who is nonetheless very fashion-forward and still, at times, incredibly silly? I love that. I love her. More women like her on TV, please.

Palamedes — Another hard choice between him and Gideon, but my brain is locked in Sixth House mode right now. I relate way too much to Pal, and I also love him. A certified nerd who's deeply compassionate. His deep love for Camilla and his protectiveness over her, which is kind of hilarious considering his noodle arms and her terrifying competence. The fact that he looked at the Ninth House and decided they were friend material, when they didn't know it themselves and were actively hostile to the entire idea. He worked out the secret to Lyctorhood before anybody else did, and decided it just wasn't for him, thanks? Because he didn't want to do that to Cam? And (spoilers for later books!!!!) the way he's so fucking badass that he and Cam worked out another way that even Jod hadn't figured out??? Goddamn. Just call me Archivist Juno Zeta, because that nerd boy is my SON.

Spock — TOS most specifically. I hardly need to explain my love for maybe THE most iconic Star Trek character of all time, but I will anyway. Autistic and gay icon, hilarious dry wit, shining devotion to his captain. (If you're noticing a pattern with my favorite characters, no you aren't.) Science-y boy who doesn't fit in anywhere, but has people who love him. Also I love his banter with Bones.

Wilson — He's a bit like Aziraphale, where he's just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. His relationship with House is so fucked up but at the same time he's a doormat to everybody and House lets him be MEAN and that's actually really important? Ppl look at their relationship on the surface and don't get it because they think Wilson is so kind and sweet and he is but he's also kind of a dick. Idk I just contracted COVID so I'm suspecting the rest of this post is going to start making less and less sense.

Obi-Wan Kenobi — I'm a sucker for characters like him. Kind and compassionate and selfless, but also hilariously sarcastic sometimes. Licherally the perfect Jedi, and loves Anakin so much but couldn't be everything he needed in the end. I blame the war tbh. I also love reading books from his perspective because releasing your feelings into the Force is some excellent mindfulness shit that we could all use some more practice in.

Mob — Mob is awesome because he's already the most powerful psychic. Like, that's never a question. The question is what will trigger him using his powers, what emotions he's feeling, and his own moral questions about obliterating other people with his super-powerful psychic abilities. And I think that's awesome! He's a lot like Merlin, really. Compassionate and really doesn't want to wipe the floor with you, but he will if he's forced into it.

Dream — hehe he's just so angsty all the time and I love that. Plus, galaxy eyes. I read the comics a looooong time ago, but I just bought one of the new collections and I'm gonna re-read them all.

Eliot — Okay Eliot is just. He's so. His thing about "I only use violence as an appropriate response" followed by immediately decking Sterling kinda sums him up. I love that he's so grumpy and "hostile" to the team but it's literally all bark and no bite because physically he would never, ever hurt them. But he will absolutely show up and beat the shit out of anyone else threatening them. Tiny angry man with fabulous hair. My beloved.

Toph — Yeeaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't really need to explain why Toph rocks, but I love that she's a tiny feral gremlin girl. Like, a VERY angry ten-year-old who's out here inventing forms of earthbending that have never been seen before. She rocks, pun intended. And I refuse to believe she would become a cop. That chaos demon of a girl??? Nooooo

[stardusted-hearts]

[ooc]

Hey guys sorry my activity has been non-existent lately, but I wanted to put out a few important reminders for this account/AU.

I know this is kind of long but please read it, it's important to me.

Anything that happens in any discord server is Not Canon to this tumblr, unless stated otherwise. I like to keep these things separated both for the sake of not getting confused, and being able to easily look back on character interactions here via tags/posts/etc. This also allows me to loosen up and be a little more silly in discord servers than I would be here outside of crack.

---

Shadow [Horizon] as I have stated before, does not yet have his nickname In Character. The best he might be able to give another character is to say they can call him Dragon if they ask for a nickname. "Horizon" is a very special name that is going to be given to him by Sonic at some point, but it hasn't happened yet.

---

Sonic [Stardust] so far only has the nickname "Star," given to him by Volt. Other characters that are close to him will have heard this and can use it, otherwise characters need to ask him about it. "Stardust" will be his full nickname eventually, but it again has not happened yet.

---

I am not kidding when I say I NEED continuity. That means continuity here, on tumblr, unless otherwise discussed. If you want to RP with me via discord and have it be canon here, I am so down for that! We just need to talk about it first, please!

---

I am also very down to talk about pre-established relationships, which can include knowing one of my muses' nicknames. I view first time interactions between characters as very important, no matter how awkward it might be, or how difficult it might be to write. If stuff gets brushed off or goes unacknowledged I am going to be lost and lose motivation to RP, so at the very least we need to talk things through if you don't want to do a full intro-thread like that.

---

I feel like these posts I make keep getting ignored or people just don't care about what I'm saying. Forgetting is fine, I forget stuff all the time, trust me. But this stuff is important to me, and if you can't give me continuity for whatever reason, be it that it's not your RP style, or whatever, that's totally okay but we are likely not going to be very compatable as RP partners outside of maybe server-based stuff or random crack.

I don't spend time putting a bunch of effort into writing a meaningful starter or reply only for it to be tossed aside like it meant nothing toward relationship development. This isn't about matching my length, I don't expect anyone to do that.

I don't want to end up not RPing here for MONTHS again because something turned me off. [ It's a problem, and not something I'm blaming anyone else for, it's me. IDK if it's the neurodivergency or what, but I do have some avoidant behavior that can be kind of easy to trigger at times. That's why I make these posts. ]

Again, if this stuff doesn't vibe with you I totally get it and it's okay, I'm not mad or upset and it's not like I'd dislike someone for it. We all have our different styles, wants, and different things we find fun in RP.

For me, I want and need continuity. The "tumblr timeline" here matters to me, this is how I enjoy RP.

So please keep that in mind if you do still want to interact with me. Keep in mind whether or not our characters really know each other, and how much they have or haven't interacted.

I hope I don't sound like an asshole and this got long as usual but I've been stressing hardcore about this for a few weeks and it's one of the reasons I haven't been around [mostly been irl stress though].

Love y'all <3

[prettyboykatsuki]

peach tree | s. aizawa

☆ tags ;; alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega!reader, alpha!aizawa, very fluffy and full of tropes but there is some implicit smut, reader is a private investigator, gn!reader, 18+

☆ wc ;; 2k

☆ a/n ;; i do not want to talk about it

☆ synopsis ;; the omega aizawa works with is beginning to cause him problems.

Peaches have a sweet, floral smell. In every color and shape. They're round, soft, delicate. Things you want to eat in their entirety, something you could get sick on if you had too much at once.

The smell of peaches have been lingering on the back of his clothes for weeks. To his discontent, it's clung to the loose fabric with as much stubborn fervor as nicotine. But unlike nicotine, there's no real reason to hide such a thing. To do it feels like a loss somehow.

For his entire life, Aizawa Shouta never paid attention the day he would formally present.

This was for many reasons. Alphas and Omegas only made up a near 20 percent of the population. Meaning it was not uncommon to encounter them, but generally considered rare. It's something often inherited through lineage, and for as long as Aizawa been alive - not a single person he knew had presented as either.

A family of Betas. He often thinks of his folks remarkable for how normal they are. Average and comfortable people. His parents were both betas, and all of his cousins and distant relatives were betas too. The last time there was an Alpha in the family was his great, great grandfather. A man he'd only ever seen in pictures in the portraits of some of his wealthy relatives.

He's never wanted to be anything else. From what he'd heard through the grapevine, the specific habits of Alpha's and Omega's seemed especially tedious. He hated that sort of complexity, and he hated more the idea that something so great would influence his behavior.

It seemed uncomfortable to be so weak to your instincts. Plus, the growth rate of Alpha's in general always made him weary.

It's not that he really hated either party. There are all sorts of people in the world, with all sorts of problems and personality. He was never ignorant enough to place blame on something as trivial as secondary sex.

So, he operated with his puberty with the same level of indifference. He proceeded through life never once thinking that he would be anything but a beta. He'd probably marry one too. And it would be simple, plain and predictable in that way.

It helped him that he had a powerful quirk. That was always more pride than he needed to live, so it helped.

He remembers the day he presented very clearly. In the 7th grade, a nurse called him into their office with a very pleased look on her face. She explained that he was an Alpha. the only boy in the class. The other Alpha was a young girl he didn't speak to much. There, she sat and told him everything.

He stumbled out of his classroom, and called his parents - then sat with the information for a few days. Not stunned but just a bit lost on how any of this made sense. For nearly 3 generations, there'd been nothing. And of all of the people in his family, he was an Alpha?

If there was anything he had learned about the universe by now, it's that it gets off on playing silly tricks. He was an Alpha. A phrase that induced nothing but confusion.

He didn't go out of his way to hide it often, only if he felt it would be uncomfortable. Around Omega's as not to make them fearful, and in general during his work.

He didn't hate all aspects. The boost of agility and good senses helped him on the field, and in general - his height and how easily he put on muscle was nice. He didn't like the fuss he got when people found out, and absolutely detested his rut. Having to get off so much in a short period made him feel like icky.

It was like anything else, really. It had downsides and upsides all the same. The only thing that's always been especially odd was simple.

Dating as an Alpha was unthinkable. It was already hard enough as is for him. A man with a dangerous job, a scruffy appearance, and a harsh way of speaking sometimes.

The few Omega's he was friends with were already with someone when he met them. They all smelled comforting, but nothing they said about love made any sense to him.

"You'll understand when you meet them, Shouta. It'll all just click."

How do you just know something like that? As if they're just something genetic that you understand from birth?

The first person he ever dated was a Beta in his early 20s. They had a simple relationship, but broke up amicably. His status never came up so he never learned anything else about it, believing he never would either.

This is illusion is shattered when he meets with you, the Private Investigator in a case targeting illegal support devices manufactured out of Kyoto.

Most of Aizawa's work is underground. He typically detests the police and is especially forgiving to vigilantes and otherwise independent contractors like mercenaries. Regardless of his personal feelings, he's accustomed to working with cops. And he knows how much cops hate P.I.'s, especially the stuffy one who introduced you to him.

It was a surprise when you handed him your business card with a shining smile and an overly friendly handshake. You reminded him of a golden retriever. At least you looked like that to him, in your everyday interactions. Even seeming frivolous at times.

The truth was that you were, point-blank, a genius of sorts. You had an ordinary quirk and ordinary credentials, but you were sharp-witted and personable.

You slacked off during important meetings, made fun of important higher-ups, and even almost got your teeth knocked loose by some beat-cop. Aizawa often found your antics insufferable, but your deductions were indisputable. You gathered evidence, sought answers, and were particularly empathetic in how you dealt with people.

You were nice to kids too. They favored you.

He really did find you annoying at first. But even though you were cunning, you proved that you cared an awful lot about everything around you. Maybe, if he were a better Alpha or more aware of those things, he would've been able to detect that you were Omega before you told him.

("I'm an Omega," You say, not looking up from your sandwich - mouth full of sliced white bread and meat "You didn't know? Everyone else does,"

He doesn't know if he's hiding his shock well enough. "They do?"

You wipe the crumbs off the corner of your lips and nod "I get told I smell like peaches a lot.")

It'd always been there in the back of his mind. The department always smelled sweet. He thought maybe it was the cleaning products, but when you told him everything made sense.

Peaches. You smelled like a ripe peach in a hot summer. Fruity and soft and sweet and—

Oh.

Oh.

It took him longer than he can comfortably admit to realize he has a crush on you. That he's had a crush on you, and that all of those weird emotions he was feeling were those pesky instincts. When it dawned on him, it was truly horrifying just how far he fell. He'd always chalked it up to friendly camaraderie, that sense of company that comes from working with someone.

Picking up little plush trinkets from claw machines when he went out with Eri, or buying you a scarf during winter. Pestering you to eat all of your food and vegetables when you pick around them. Grabbing the collar of sweater in order to keep you out immediate danger where he could. He thought he was just being protective.

He thought you just reminded him of a puppy, and that he was feeling the effects of that. But it was a crush all along, had been forever and ever and he was so very late on the uptake all because he had listened to was his instinct. He didn't even think twice, and it was truly harrowing. He's a grown man and he didn't even know.

When the realization came, the other emotions came even faster. Everything grew ten sizes, suddenly consumed with you.

He wanted to scent you, to rub his cheek on your neck to smell like you and make you smell like him. He wanted to protect you. He spent a near twenty minutes daydreaming about helping you nest, how he'd crawl into your bed while you welcome him. The thought was so intense it made him purr. He didn't even know he could do that.

And he wanted you so awfully it made his gums ache. He wanted to give it to you hard and deep while you cried in your ear. He'd coo about how much he cherishes you and you'd feel so nice and safe in his arms, so protected by your—

It's embarassing. Truthfully, these desires do nothing but make him feel like someone else and he doesn't know if he likes it. Is this who he was? Even with his Omega friends, the single ones, he'd never felt this.

Eventually, it dawned on him that it was not merely instinct. He just.. liked you. More than anyone else, ever. And that all of those silly, base desires were simply his own desires expanded by ten times. It's all very embarassing, but he thinks if you called him your Alpha - he'd probably be so overwhelmed he'd have to sit down for a while.

It took him weeks to cope with the information. He did eventually, after a bit of drinking and regretful gossiping with Nemuri and Mic. Only then, only after - did he manage to confess to you. He did on a rooftop while it was raining, ducking under something to stay dry.

You shared the warmth of a cup of coffee, hands finally touching. He thought that'd be the end of the embarrassment, but you love to turn his world upside down it seems.

("I know this is a bit inappropriate, but I don't think I'm gonna muster up the courage later if I don't this now. I like you," Aizawa confesses, breath creating smoke in the air.

You blink then look up at him with a smile.

"I know," You tell him, holding his hands a bit tighter "Oh, but I like you too,"

"You... know?"

You giggle, getting too close for him to handle. Gesturing for him to lean down with your eyes, he does so.

"How would I not know? You've been courting me for months whether you realized it or not. Bringing me food, giving me soft stuff, letting off your scent when people come around me,"

He wants to cover his face with shame but can't help but smile a little.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say,"

Instead, you lean over to peck him terribly softly.

"Don't say anything, then. We can talk later,")

Not everyone is unaware of dating rituals, it seems. He learns much later you never pressed him because you didn't want to make him uncomfortable, which he appreciates. It's better that he realized on his own. If he hadn't, he's sure your confrontation would've made him swallow it all up.

Months later and he's dating you. You're still such a rascal, he feels like he has to watch over you no matter what you do. You get into so much trouble. But he doesn't mind when you cling to him. You get especially testy with him but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the challenge. He kind of likes being your big, strong Alpha - no matter how much he finds that very thing so troubling.

The smell of peaches clings to his clothes. His students have started being so curious that he caved into letting you meet them. Eri likes you too. He couldn't ever imagine himself being so weak, but if he was more honest with himself—

He really does like it. He really, really likes you.

[thicksimpx]

Pairing : Former ProDom! Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings : mature content, mature language, mentions of drugs, Male Dom, Slight Roleplaying , bdsm, bondage, bodily fluids, rough penetration, face fucking

Summary : what’s your wildest fantasy? Levi surely knows his, your curiosity has been peaked when you asked for him to show you rather than tell- leading to him asking “have you ever seen a dungeon? “

this little adventure was requested by non other than the lovely @dejwrites , enjoy !

Tags - @luffysthickwaifu , @gabzlovesu , @sintiva , @happygoluckyalexis , @shoutaswhore , @indiecursor , @mastermindenoshimaalicia , @ceeriusly-dumb , @angwritez , @po3ticb3auty , @riozakii , @bookwormsenpai , @hhawkz

Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | Lesson 3

Your vision is spotty, black dots coming and going as your eyes try to adjust, struggling to open - breaking yourself out of what you thought was your peaceful slumber.

As your vision becomes clear, your barley able to make out where you were. Panicking in the dark room once you notice the position you were in - bent over a soft cushioned pole - with your wrist changed to another beam below and your ankles doing the same, the position felt like you were stretching.

It reminded you of something you would see in a playground when you were a kid- it was like an adult jungle gym. Your heart hammered in your chest when tugged on the bounds unable to break free. Cool air blows onto your cunt making you yelp.

“Relax” a familiar voice echoes. You turn your head every which way you can to find him, you needed to see him. You needed that piece of mind, but it was too dark to see anything. That same voice chuckles and a light flickers on - neon purple, your favorite color. Looking between your legs you can see your beau, in a throne like chair with his legs crossed- and a foreign instrument on his lap.

Sensing your confusion, he pushes himself up, throwing the loose part of the instrument over his shoulder and trails toward you.

Lightly running his fingers up your thigh as he makes his way around the trap. Crouching to the level of your face, palming your cheek. “You asked me to show you what my wildest fantasy was babe.. did you forget?” Levi asks softy staring into your eyes.

“I-I - you’re right.” You huff. “But why do you have all of this stuff? “you ask putting your head down to look between your legs at the room. The walls had everything from rope, to sticks with dildos attached to them end of them, chains, and paddles. You could faintly make out what looked to be other traps similar to the one you were currently in.

“This is my own personal dungeon” he chuckles softly. Looking back up to Levi you bite you lip a little nervous, you weren’t dumb- but you wanted an explanation. How did you get here? Was this a part of his house? More importantly, who else has been down here?

“I know what you’re thinking” he snaps you out of your thought pressing his lips to your forehead. “No one else has been down here. This is mine and mine alone, something - apart of me - that I wanted to share with the right person. “he starts “I told you .. I had a particular job in the past that.. taught me, made me who I am today. This is basically that job”

“So, you’re a dominatrix?”

“No.” He laughs. “That’s not what the men are called .. but” he pauses. “If you want to continue … you can call me Master” Levi says with a hint of playfulness.

“Okay… Master” you giggle a bit thinking you sounded silly. “But one question, how did I get here? The last thing I remember is that we were eating din- did you drug me?!”

“I wouldn’t say .. drugged. It was just a little

Something to make it easier to bring you down here. I’ll explain more later. Please can we start..?” He points to his visible erection ready to burst through his pants.

You nod, he presses a kiss to your lips and gets up. You watch his feet walk behind you, taking slow and steady breathes not knowing what to expect.

“Since this is your first time I’m going to take it easy on you” you could tell he was smiling from his voice, you just wished to see his face to confirm. you were glad he trusted you and you could participate in something he loved, he never failed to surprise you with the thin-

“Ahh” you moan, shuddering when you feel Levi’s fingers gliding up and down your cunt, followed many loose tendrils on the instrument running over your lower back and ass. “This .. is called a flogger. It’s for spankings. Is it alright if I spank you y/n? “Levi asks allowing the soft material to drag up your back,, between your shoulder blades and back down your spine, finally lightly grazing your quivering cunt.

“Y-yes Master”

“Good girl. You remember our safe word right?” You hum in agreement. “Good now count to ten and remember … shout the safe word if I hurt you at any mo.. ment” he says through gritted teeth as he brings the flogger down to connect with your ass. The light sting makes your body jolt, bouncing on the tips of your toes, you let out wordless whines. “One!”

You continued to count as Levi reared the flogger back and brought it down on your ass, each echoing crack louder than the last. You cried out, counting through gritted teeth as the sting and ache morphed into pleasure, leaving tingles in your stomach and cunt. You jerked forward and squirmed with every bit of impact to your quickly tendering skin, voice strained with pain and absolute need. “T-ten!” You gasp after the last hit ending up being most powerful.

If you could- you would collapse as the quivering and shaky mess you current were. Your breaths coming out as thick pants, waiting for Levi to say something. His footstep sound louder than normal as he makes he was around to your front, lifting your head by your chin, “you did good sweetheart. I’ll reward you now”

Unzipping his pants, his painfully hard dick fly’s out, slapping you in the face. “Open up” Levi groans angling his dick to your mouth. Slipping past your lips and sliding in as far as he could, bottoming out in your mouth. Once he felt your breath on his pelvis, he leans over massaging your ass. You groan in pain, still sore from the spanking, while he tries to sooth you with his hands- slowly thrusting into your mouth.

“I’m so proud of you” he praises, reaching down past your ass to your nearly dripping cunt. “You liked being spanked don’t you? My good girl” he hisses, rubbing slow circles onto your clit. You moan around him making his knees buckle. Pulling his hand back - he sticks two fingers into his mouth, coating them in his saliva and pressing them into your entrance.  You can hear Levi sharply inhale, probably from the way you feel around his fingers.

Your body tensed as the pads of his fingers brush against the sponge spot full of nerves inside you. You're already so wet tag the sounds of it are filling the room, squelching echoing, blending into the sounds of Levi’s heavy breaths and your muffled moans. Too eager, pupils blown, Levi starts to thrust into your mouth at a faster pace. You swirled your tongue around him as best as you could, suckling lightly, breathing through you nose whenever you could - though you felt lightheaded.

Levi pulled his fingers out before inserting them back in, sliding in with ease and a newfound pace. Your legs tremble from the abuse to your cunt with his long slender fingers. No long sucking, your mouth hung open as drool pooled down from your mouth to the floor.

Tears running down your face, nose runny, and eyes rolled back you let out almost inhumane moan- thanks to Levi’s dick in your throat- clenching around his fingers and cumming harder than you’ve ever had.  The way your throat spams with your continuous moans and cries has Levi breaking the skin of his lip with his teeth- cumming deep in your mouth.

You feel his fingers slid out of your cunt wetness spread along your still stinging ass cheeks as Levi backs up, now limp dick slipping from your mouth. Your head drops and you hang there like a dead body making him laugh “Wasn’t bad for a first timer, Welcome to the world of BDSM, My love”

——

Thicksimpx© 2022. Do not copy, claim, modify or translate my work without my permission. thanks 😘

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[insertdisc5]

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk