#makes sense why that tag doesn’t fucking exist

[okcoolthanks]

Fuck it officer dudes, officer boys, and Richie rat from blood in the bayou

Three characters who show up like twice. Maybe. In the entire campaign

Alt version because it’s a little difficult to see

[blueish-bird]

sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same. 

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit. 

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing. 

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl. 

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after. 

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely. 

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He 

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering. 

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’ 

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper. 

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” 

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you. 

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed. 

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred. 

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections. 

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you. 

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror… 

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up. 

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not. 

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface. 

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions. 

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again. 

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact. 

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse. 

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye. 

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her… 

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance. 

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils. 

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head. 

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. 

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy… 

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.” 

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint? 

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you. 

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.  

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again. 

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan. 

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day. 

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind. 

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far. 

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor. 

Not one of his proudest moments to date.  

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions. 

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.” 

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!” 

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning… 

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?” 

-

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all. 

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead. 

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?” 

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.” 

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.” 

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…” 

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him. 

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist. 

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer. 

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus. 

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working. 

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’ 

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?” 

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament. 

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married. 

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late. 

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe… 

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.” 

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull. 

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way. 

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in. 

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication. 

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that. 

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface. 

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned. 

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you.  By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy. 

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward. 

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost. 

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.” 

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level. 

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made. 

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear. 

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?” 

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.” 

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game. 

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.” 

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once. 

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly. 

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking… 

“We have a winner!” 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough… 

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!” 

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.” 

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it… 

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.” 

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.” 

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?” 

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow. 

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers. 

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.” 

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.” 

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.” 

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself. 

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding. 

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.” 

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!” 

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another. 

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!” 

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off. 

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…” 

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort… 

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person. 

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one. 

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you. 

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need. 

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?” 

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.” 

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you?  Who do you belong to? Say it!” 

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.” 

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.” 

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it. 

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you! 

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union.  Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you. 

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over? 

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you. 

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch. 

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore. 

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.” 

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it." 

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?” 

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow. 

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes. 

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor. 

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.”  He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.” 

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw. 

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself. 

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath. 

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on. 

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged. 

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up. 

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!” 

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there. 

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.” 

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you. 

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free. 

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.” 

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?” 

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.” 

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain. 

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts.  His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit. 

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

[goddessofroyalty]

So this was based on a silly joke I have in my head about hormonal birth control not working for omega!Sanji for (spoilers) reasons and him and Zoro then ending up with 3 kids on the pirate journey because they keep breaking condoms.

Anyway this is just them finally making it back to the Baratie and having to face up to Zeff about it (from Zeff’s POV)

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg

---------

Zeff will admit he is slightly surprised at the swell in Sanji’s stomach when he showed up again as part of what seems to be the new Pirate King and crew’s Victory Tour.

It’s not that Eggplant had given him no indication of it – he had been getting more and more jittery every damn time he’d gotten in touch as the Strawhats made their various stops before reaching the Baratie. Saying how some things had happened during his travels and that he’d needed to talk to Zeff about them in person. But Zeff had assumed it was to do with his damnable family. Not that his woman-obsessed omega son had gone and got himself knocked up. By an alpha, going by the new layer of scent clinging on top of the one he remembers to be Sanji’s.

And, because wonder’s don’t fucking cease, they’ve only just gotten through their tearful hug when a little green-haired girl comes running over. Clinging to Eggplants leg and staring up at Zeff with curious, familiar, blue eyes.

“I thought you were staying on the ship Princess?” Eggplant says, brushing a hand through her hair. And Zeff is equally sure that actually Sanji told her to stay on the ship as he is that his boy was as much a pushover to his daughter as he had been any woman who had stepped foot into the Baratie before he left.

“You know she wasn’t gonna’ as soon as she found out this was your old home.” And there was the newly minted World’s Greatest Swordsman and apparently sire to Zeff’s grandkids walking in like it had been his home as well and not the place he had gotten nearly cut in half by the former owner of the title.

And, fucks sake, there was another little one resting on his hips as he does it with that same matching green hair.

“I do remember teaching you about the importance of making them wrap it,” Zeff grumbles, because going by the age of the older one the two it hadn’t been all that long after Sanji left that he had gotten himself knocked up. “I know you said you weren’t planning on getting with any alphas but I know you were still listening.”

Eggplant goes red at it before glaring at Roronoa who gives a grin back that is entirely too filthy and leaves Zeff sure that he doesn’t actually want to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Zeff asks more to move the topic away from his kid’s sex life before he finds out more about it than he wants to.

They had been exchanging letters and calls on and off the whole time and never once had Eggplant mentioned that he was going to be or had become a granddad in any of them.

“I did try to but I couldn’t say anything too direct in case it got intercepted,” Sanji explains, resting a protective hand over his middle while the other curls around the girl at his side.

It makes some degree of sense. Best way to keep the two, soon to be three, pups from being a target is to have nobody know they exist in the first place.

Maybe Zeff should have guessed something like this was up when Sanji had asked him how he had dealt with the stress of raising a kid in the dangerous world they lived in. But he had just assumed his boy had finally matured enough to realize how much of an antagonistic dumbass he had been at times.

“I did want to tell you though,” Sanji continues, his voice guilty.  

Roronoa has moved close to his mate’s side, not touching though. Which is probably what Sanji actually wants – always had been a bit funny about any too direct an offer of comfort. Something Zeff’s probably as much to blame for as anything else in his life.

“You have no idea how many times I nearly did.”

“Probably for the best you didn’t,” Zeff says because he can’t have his kid feeling guilty for doing the smart thing. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to keep away if you did.”

Neither he nor his ship these days are made for the journey to the Grand Line. And it wouldn’t have been good for Sanji or the rest of the crew of his to have an old pirate getting underfoot while they were making names for themselves on history’s pages.

“Hell, I’m gonna’ struggle letting you sail off with my grandkids with you now. You better come visit more than you have been!” He doesn’t actually hold it against them and damn well know the reason why this is the first time he’s seen them since Sanji left to join a pirate crew. But he still missed years of his grandkids lives as a result and they had better make up for it.

[mmmichyyy]

🌸 gallavich fic rec list 🌸

welcome to my 2023 fic rec list! i went through my ao3 bookmarks and my tumblr tags from this year so here's some (not all, or else this post would go on forever) of my fave (new & older) one-shots, completed multi-chaps, wips & ficlets <3

make sure to check out my 2021 list & my 2022 list ! since i'm not going to include fics i've mentioned before in this year's list :)

& don't forget to check out @gallavichfanficlibrary @gallavich-fic-club @gallavichthings @thegallavault for more recs plus @galladrabbles & @gallavichmeta too ✨ let's go!

one-shots:

doesn't matter where we go by @heymacy (The boys take a road trip.)

to think that we could stay the same by teatrolley (post-breakup au, but Mickey gets out of prison, Caleb doesn't exist, and we get really into their past and Ian’s (struggling) head)

of going home by @lalazeewrites (Valiant has taken the greatest fall from grace the superhero world has witnessed in years. The Shrike is an unregistered vigilante who doesn't even ping the radar of Chicago's crime fighting scene. Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all. Not since the events of eight years ago.)

quiet by @babygirlmickey (In the quiet of a perceived absence of scrutiny, Mickey can be incontrovertibly tender. Or: 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.)

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) by literatii (As embarrassing as it might be, Ian is not only his husband but also his best friend, and Mickey is pretty damn okay with that. Why the fuck would he find other people to do the exact same shit with that he already does with Ian, minus the fucking, when he can just do that shit with Ian plus the fucking? It makes no sense. Or: Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.)

thirteen hours by @crossmydna (Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.)

queen of decatur by jaxington (“How’d you know that?” Ian asks, smelling chum in the water, the observant little fuck. “Not like your brothers are getting sent to lady prison all that often.” Mickey thumbs at his lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to distract Ian just by taking of his pants, but he is trying this new thing where he actually tells Ian what’s going on in his head. “No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s my mom.”)

like strings of fire by @gardenerian (mickey finds a safe and colorful way for ian to indulge himself when hypersexuality rears its ugly head.)

the needle and the burning body by squash (jesuisgourde) (Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.)

some fucked up romcom by godisthedice (Two years after they locked him up, Mickey told himself that he was done with Ian fucking Gallagher for good. Two years as a free man and he's marrying him for all the wrong reasons.)

when the sun goes down by @sam-loves-seb (super cute and fluffy lifeguard au!)

lava java by @stocious (He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.)

here's to hoping i'm not what kills you by @crestfallercanyon (After a confrontation gone bad, Mickey and the Gallaghers get Ian to the hospital. And look, Mickey always knew that if the Gallaghers had a will they'd find a way, but being roped into their schemes himself wasn't something he'd planned on signing on for. All the Gallaghers need to know is Mickey's helping out because he's not pure fucking evil. They don't need to know Mickey was scared shitless when Ian got knocked unconscious, Jesus, he can barely admit that to himself. Once Mickey knows Ian's not dead and not dying, he's out of there. Except he can't bring himself to leave.)

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian (Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.)

i'll come meet you where you are by @crestfallercanyon (Mickey comes back from prison with a ring of vicious bruises around his neck and an edge to him Ian doesn't recognize. But he came back. He came back, and now it's time for Ian to meet him halfway.

closing in walls and ticking clocks by c_cups_bitch_u_wish (So, this is happening. Mickey is sitting in the corner of the bedroom on the comfiest fucking chair he’s ever sat in, and his adult self and adult Ian are about to fuck. And he’s going to watch. What's most odd is that this doesn't even feel like the weirdest thing to happen to him today.)

a spark of fire by @lingy910y (“You wanted us to finally have some time alone. You wanted to keep me safe, but you didn’t really care as long as we were together. You didn’t want it to end.” Mickey swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I don’t fuckin’ know.” “But can I, uh, ask you something else?” Ian rubs his thumbs together. “You like me, Mick. You fucking like me.”)

flip fuck? by @gallawitchxx (Mickey’s always thought that Valentine’s Day was fucking gay. But then some dramatic, ginger fuckhead had to move into the room next to his, and steal his hole, his heart, and the attention of his tumblr mutuals. Mickey decides to keep it lowkey when he asks Ian to spend the evening together: You wanna hang out on Tuesday? Ian’s response is quick and gives absolutely nothing away: Sure thing! That big-dicked idiot better remember it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.)

completed:

prelude motel by @whatthebodygraspsnot (When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers.)

garden song (series) by @gardenerian (two gorgeous fics about ian's bipolar, about hope, healing, and tomatoes)

better by anomalously (It's been ten years since Ian's seen Mickey.)

in your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter (Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them.)

whumptober 2023 (series) by @sam-loves-seb (21 beautiful fics of angst & hurt/comfort)

out of nowhere by @suzy-queued (Ian should have never offered to hide his father's stash of gold. Now he's stuck living on a deserted piece of land in the woods, alone, losing his sanity. Mickey wants nothing more than to disappear — from prison, from his family, from the entire world. If only he knew where to get his hands on a cool million. The Gallagher gold. Mickey wants it. Ian will do anything to protect it. Who will cave first?)

all these things i have left to say to you by @crestfallercanyon (After all this time that Ian's been missing, he leaves a tape recorder on Mickey's pillow. And on it? An hour of pure, unfiltered, Ian audio that is all, apparently, dedicated to him.)

wips:

keys to my heart by @milkovichrules (Ian finds his stable college life getting difficult when a new neighbour moves into the dorms.)

intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar (another college au) (one of my fave fics of all time!!)

the ink is a witness to this by @palepinkgoat (six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.)

order up by @heymacy (Ian and Mickey work together at a Chicago diner. They like to push each other's buttons - all their buttons. How long until the dam finally breaks?)

second chapters by @squidyyy23 (When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy. And when he meets the charming, clever, utterly fuckable, redheaded children’s librarian, well, shit just keeps getting better and better. Mickey’s definitely not interested in anything serious right now, but what’s the harm in a little fun?)

electric blue by @goodkwuestion (Paramedic Ian Gallagher knows true love exists. He's not going to settle until he finds it either, no matter how much his friends and family roll their eyes at him. Mickey Milkovich, on the other hand, isn't sure about all that stuff. He's an engineer with a long to-do list, and chasing rainbows isn't on it. He'll never say no to a good time and a pretty face though. When they meet, it will feel like kismet, something inevitable that neither of them can shake. Honestly though, who would want to? Falling in love can be the easiest thing in the world, especially when the whole universe is rooting for you... That's if the whole universe is rooting for you.)

ficlets:

all of @heymrspatel's drabbles, especially this one of ian being self-conscious about his body

docks scene & birthday suit gardening ficlets by @metalheadmickey

all of @lupeloto's sweet & domestic ficlets

@sam-loves-seb's meta about ian being the moon and mickey being the sun

ian's birthday ficlet & 31 ways we never meet (a.u.gust 2023 ficlets) by @callivich

airport confessions by @dynamic-power

gallavich drabbles by @whatthebodygraspsnot

all of @howlinchickhowl's a.u.gust 2023 ficlets!

(if you made it this far, i also write fics occasionally too so here's a self-promo lol)

[farfromstrange]

Long-Distance | Matt Murdock x Reader

masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Matthew gifts you a vibrator for while he's away - but it’s not at all what you think. He bought it for you to play with him and yourself at the same time. How can you say no to such a lucrative offer?

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, porn without plot, established relationship, no pronouns (but Matt calls reader a good girl), pure filth, mutual masturbation, use of a vibrator, soft!dom Matt, JOI, sub!reader, hints at unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink, mentions of choking kink, phone sex, dirty talk, coming untouched (?), fluff, no y/n but it's from your pov

A/n: I decided to take the old post down and post it AGAIN because no matter what I'm doing, Tumblr refuses to let my fics appear in the tags. It's pissing me off because I worked hard on this and I actually want people to read it, so I'm trying this again.

I wrote this in two hours – I'm that fucking horny. That’s why there might be several errors here, but idc. Also, I think it's fucking amazing that such vibrators exist (I found that out totally on accident and now I can't wait to meet my s/o and try it out with them). Matt Murdock and remote vibrators? Yes, please. It's not a want it's a need. So I wrote this and well, I kind of like it. It's already been posted on ao3 and oh what a wonder, you can actually find it there! Anyway, the thought of Matt buying us a remote vibrator for long-distance phone sex has my mind going all sorts of crazy. Hope you enjoy!

This is too long to be considered a drabble but it's also missing a lot of detail, so it's a non-drabble drabble.

18+ MINORS DNI!

You're not so sure how you got here.

One moment, you’re kissing your boyfriend goodbye at the airport before he goes on a business trip to Los Angeles, the next you’re holding a small gift-wrapped package he placed under the mattress with a bow as he tells you over the phone to, “Open it.”

You have no idea how you got here, but at the same time, you know exactly how. This always happens. He always finds a way to play even when he’s not home with you. He doesn’t need to be close to make you lose your mind. 

So when you toy with the bow and he can clearly hear the hesitation in your movements, he uses more force to tell you again, “Open it, angel. It won’t bite.”

Unless you want it to - you’re hoping it’s not jewelry. You love it when he makes expensive gifts he can barely afford, even with his law firm picking up more wealthy clients willing to pay generous amounts for a good criminal defense, but not tonight. Tonight, you want something else. You want something that can be gift-wrapped, but not over such a vast distance. You want to unwrap something else, feel something else and have someone else in bed with you. 

Eventually, you get the bow open and free the object within the long box from its confines. You swallow. His gift is long and made out of silicone, and it’s thick but not nearly as wide as him. There are three buttons instead of just one and the one underneath the obvious on-button looks like a thermometer. You feel the urge to press it, but you stop yourself. He hasn’t told you to play with it yet, only to unwrap it, and you did. 

“Matthew,” you whisper. It’s almost a warning as much as it is a thank you. 

The phone is on speaker so he can hear every little sound and you can hear him, though with your normal, human senses it’s a little less intense. 

He chuckles and the sound shoots right to your core, the vibrator trembling in your hands; the toy isn’t even on yet, but the prospect of what it can do and might entail turns you on beyond compare. 

Phone sex with Matt has always been intense. Whenever he went away, he made sure that the two of you would have time to get some much-needed intimacy. He loves listening to every sound you make, no matter how pathetic, and the way you respond to the sound of his voice alone has him coming faster than usual. Not to mention he can pour out his filthiest dirty talk right into your ear and since you can’t see him, it’s just his voice that has you on the edge in minutes, and he feels so incredibly proud of himself whenever you would moan his name in ecstasy. He often considered recording those phone sessions to listen back on at a later, much more desperate time, but he’s afraid that if he did that, he might never be able to stop. 

“You like it?” his smug voice climbs through the fog that has taken over your mind. 

You nod and he senses it, he always does, even hundreds of miles away and with a phone in between the two of you. He has complete control over you and no one knows you and your body better than he does. 

Matt thrives off of it. he thrives off of being the only one who can make you come like that, the only one who can push your buttons so precisely and in just the right spot that it makes you cry out. But most importantly, he thrives off the love he has for you. The love you have for him sustains him, but he lives for you and so loving you is truly the best thing that could have happened to him. And whenever you tell him those three magical words, he wants to combust. He’s never been happier than with you. 

You set the package aside, scooting up the mattress until your back hits the headboard. The apartment is so empty without him, but you can hear his breathing on the other end of the line and it makes you feel less alone. The darkness sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps all over your skin. 

“What does it do?” you dare to ask. 

Matt chuckles again. “What doesn’t it do?”

“Matthew.”

“Take a closer look, sweetheart,” is all he responds to your threatening tone, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

God, his voice sounds so sexy when it’s all breathy and needy for you. He’s lowering his voice just for you, just to make you feel everything you want and need to feel. And he’s so in love he could die from the intensity.

Following his command, you look at the burgundy vibrator again, shaped like a dick in all the right places, thick in girth and length, but coming nowhere close to what Matt hides under his everyday clothing - and what most possibly lies in his hand right now, hard and throbbing for more. 

Your finger traces over the thermometer symbol, the on-button, and whatever the third button could be for. “It heats up,” you state, and your voice sounds just a little surprised while also sparked with intrigue. 

“That’s right,” he says. 

“And it turns on, obviously, but what’s the third button for?”

You hear a click on the other side. He must have moved his phone from the bedside table into his hand. He sounds so much closer now. 

Mat shifts in his hotel bed. “Take your phone.”

“Okay.” You follow without questioning his intentions. He knows what he’s doing. 

“I downloaded an app.”

“You did what now?”

“Yeah, when you were sleeping before I left. I downloaded an app. Open it,” he says. 

Part of you wants to ask why he would download an app on your phone, but you remind yourself that there is a very pleasing surprise waiting in your hand for you and he only wants to prolong the pleasure. So you comply. 

You reach the last page, skimming over the different apps until you find one you don’t recognize. 

Oh.

Oh.

“Jesus, Matt,” your curse out when you open it and find the first page staring back at you, the lighting setting already turned all the way down so as not to distract you with its blue light. 

“Do you like it?” he asks again. 

He knows you do. 

“It’s with remote control. How did you-”

“I heard about it while I was out the other night. Some couple down the street talked about how this particular model has a long-distance function and I thought, what could be better than finally being able to properly control your orgasms over the distance?”

“Fuck!”

“And you wanna know what’s even better?”

“What?” you ask, swiping to view the different settings. 

What could be better than this?

One press of a button and he could draw his fingers on the screen in a pattern that would have you shaking. He could control your pleasure with his phone alone. The vibrations would be completely in his hands, not yours, and all the while he would whisper the filthiest things into your ear until it would feel as if he was truly there with you. 

It’s so exciting, you rub your thighs together, slowly starting to open the knot of your bathrobe to get some more space to breathe. The room only seems to grow hotter. 

Another click on the other end and then he says, “I have one too.”

You’re unaware of how you got here, but you’re most certainly not going to complain. 

Both vibrators are connected, so while Matt plays with your pussy like a fiddle, you can do whatever you want with him. It’s a ring, he tells you, and he puts it on. You can hear him do it, you listen to his every breath and silent groan, rubbing your thighs together again. 

The bathrobe slips open. You undress for him. He doesn’t have to tell you, you know what you have to do. 

“Are you naked?” he asks. 

You nod your head, “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Are you?” you retort. 

Matt chuckles into your ear from where you placed the phone on the pillow. “I am,” he says. 

“Good.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do: You’re going to take the vibrator and turn it on. Can you do that for me, angel?”

You can and you do. 

“Good girl,” his praise goes straight to your cunt, “Now, I want you to use your free hand to touch your breasts, and give your hard nipples some much-needed attention. Don’t hold back, baby. Do whatever makes you feel good.”

“Okay,” you barely manage to choke out. 

“And while you’re busy doing that, I want you to use the other to place the vibrator on your clit.”

“Fuck, Matthew!”

“That’s right, moan my name. I’m going to teach you how to scream it very soon.”

You have no idea how you got here. 

The vibrator is so deep inside of your tight pussy now, you can feel it resting right against your g-spot, and the stimulator attached to the toy has its tip pressed tightly against your aching clit. He got you so wet so quickly, one hand on your breast and the other using the vibrations of the vibrator to you all wet. 

The setting he’s using can only be described as cruel. You’re sure he’s just playing around, using his finger to stroke up and down not only the speed button on his phone screen but his cock as well.

You really don’t know how you got here, but it feels too damn good to stop and question the series of events that lead you here, to him. 

His name is a mantra embedded in your brain. “Matthew,” you’re moaning and writhing and he can hear everything. 

Your hands clutch the sheets and your back arches. The vibrator pulsates, then slows down only to pick up the pace again. He keeps doing that until you’re crying, overstimulated, and on the edge of an orgasm that felt the most intense it had ever been. 

But you reap what you sow and so Matt gets back just exactly what he’s giving you. You find your phone again, interrupting the constant vibrations of his own toy, and changing the setting. If you have to suffer, he might as well join you. 

It’s filthy, the things you’re doing and what you’re saying. You should feel bad for fucking yourself on a vibrator controlled by your boyfriend and waking the neighbors with your obscene sounds, but in the bliss of pleasure, you couldn’t care less about what the people in the building have to say about you. 

You both need this so damn much. 

He grunts on the other end and that tells you he is getting close too, so you slow down the vibrations and match them to your own, moving your fingers in the same rhythm he does. 

“Angel,” he breathes and your name follows suit. He’s a mess and he’s so needy, his cock throbs hard. All he wants to do is come, preferably in you, and fill you with his release until you’re fucking overflowing and well-bred, but he can’t. He wants to fuck you through this intense orgasm as your pussy flutters and shakes around him. He wants to hear how wet you are, feel your tears, and choke your pretty little neck until you’re coming all over him. He doesn’t care if it gets messy, he just wants you, and as he fists himself along to the vibrations you torture his red, weeping cock with the vibrating ring at the base, he imagines it’s your hand, your mouth, your fucking pussy that’s making him feel so good. 

And he knows you’re imagining his cock, too. You’re imagining him driving in and out of you, twitching and pushing into your g-spot expertly. In your head, he has you pinned down with a hand around your throat, the other rubbing your clit vigorously and at a torturous pace as you inch closer and closer to your climax. He has your legs thrown over his shoulder, or he just holds you close, chest to chest as he fucks into you relentlessly. Perhaps he’s even turning you over now, forcing you to get to your hands and knees and pounding into your tight, used hole. You can only imagine the sting of his hand on your ass, the hand in his hair as he hauls you back and kisses you passionately, making you feel his love and his cock at the same time, and once he touches your neck you would come hard around him, screaming or speechless, whatever mood you are in at the moment, and he’d follow suit, spurting his hot cum into your pussy. It’s lewd, it’s foolish and a lot could go wrong with protecting, but you don’t care anymore. If that man wants to fuck his babies into you, God knows you would do it for him. In the heat of the moment, you think so, at least, because you agreed you aren’t ready for children yet and wouldn’t be for some time, but having Matt Murdock fuck his seed into your cunt as it spasms around his thick cock, marking and breeding you like a toy does things to you. He’s so rough while also being the gentlest when holding you as you come, whispering praises, and kissing you. 

God, you are so close. You’re not sure how much more you can take.

He groans. “Just a little more,” he tells you. “Don’t come yet. Wait for my permission, sweetheart. Be a good girl for me.”

Matt turns down the vibrator only so much that your orgasm washes away, the wave disappearing, and adding to the tsunami that is waiting to hit home. 

You whine, grabbing the sheets. 

“Are you thinking about me? About how my cock would feel inside of you? ‘Cause I’m thinking about you,” he says. “I’m thinking about your tits bouncing whenever I thrust inside of you and the feel of your click cunt taking me so well, making all kinds of sounds that have me wanting to suck on those beautiful lips of yours for days on end. God, you have no idea how much I want you right now. Turn the heat on.”

That’s the one thing he can’t control.

“I want you to feel like it is my dick inside of you, baby.”

“But you’re so much bigger,” you argue, even amid your pleasure. 

He chuckles. “I know I am.”

The heat does things to you. It relaxes your walls and allows the vibrator to push even deeper until it’s buried to the hilt. Only then does the accelerate the vibrations again. Together with the heat, your legs are soon shaking and your walls clench, holding the orgasm right there. You don’t have permission, but you need to come. You need to come now or you would make him very unhappy. 

“N’ugh, please, Matthew. I’m so close. So fucking close.”

“I know,” he purrs. 

“Come with me,” you plead and once you put the vibrations of his ring on full intensity, his moans grow louder and he’s shaking, whimpering even, and his voice cracks. 

He reaches for the phone and almost doesn’t make it to tell you, “Come,” before your bubble bursts, the knot releases, and all the pressure on your cunt evaporates with the most intense orgasm he could have possibly pulled out of you. 

Once again, you have no idea how you got here. Legs shaking, cheeks wet with tears, the sheets soaked with your wet cum as your cunt and clit twitch. It’s swollen and aching between your legs, like your folds and everything else. Your nipples are so sensitive, you have to ease the hand that holds them. You’re trembling, but only in the ways that are so fucking good. 

For minutes, you don’t know how long, and none of you speak. Only heavy breathing fills the phone line. The vibrators have long stopped producing sounds as you shut them off, though you are far too gone to pull it out. It fills you like Matt’s cock would, and you want to keep the image alive for a little longer, feel him in and on you even if he can’t be there to hold you. You can’t keep his cock warm, but you can pretend, only for a moment. 

You break the silence first. “Matt?” you ask into the night. 

He hums on the other side. 

“When are you coming home?”

Your voice is vulnerable and honest, and he sighs. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to disappoint you, and he doesn’t want to stay and work on that godforsaken case any longer either. It’s over, he can go home. He wants to go home. If he has to hand off his caseload to someone else, Jennifer Walters maybe, he would if it meant he could get to see you sooner than planned. One more day, he swears, and then he would take the earliest flight back home to you. 

“Soon,” he answers. “I’ll be home soon, sweetheart.”

He still doesn’t quite know what he did to deserve you. The more important it is to him to make you unconditionally happy. He doesn’t want you to leave, doesn’t want to lose you, he just wants you in his arms for the rest of his life. 

“You’re the love of my life,” he continues long after you’ve fallen asleep to the sound of his voice, cleaned up and tired from your shared activities. “I will always come back home to you,” he says. “I promise.”

Though he decides that this time, as soon as he’s home, he will ease the weight dragging down the inside of his suit jacket every time he’s with you, he’s never dared to ask you before. Too much of a coward to stand up and speak now, to ask you to stay forever and have a family with him. He wants you, no one else, and he’s determined to prove it to you this time. He doesn’t want to be apart from you any longer. It’s torture, the torture he has to end soon because it’s not just hurting him, it is hurting you too. 

You’re not sure how you got here, but with Matt Murdock planning to ask you to marry him, it doesn’t matter why certain things happen a certain way. They just do and it’s perfect that way. 

[fillinforlater]

Spaceship: Horizon - Season Finale: How did we get here?

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura & Choi Yena

Length: 2480 words

Tags: a lot of what the fucks, a lot of fucks, sudden sex, sex as a reward, threesome, friendly rivalry, blowjobs, forced deepthroat, 69, pussy eating, face sitting, snowballing, cowgirl, overstimulation, very numb, very exhausted, very confusing, commander!Sakura / dorky!Yena / puzzled!You

TW: Kinda forced with a lot of plot point coming together. Feel free to back read ;)

Inspiration: A lot of ppl wanted Kkura, other wanted Yena, and I wanted to finish one of my many plans I had for this season finale. This series is super old, hell, I don't even remember all the things I set up and names lol.

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for the late edit. Really saved some stuff, tbh. You're the best.

(A/N: FInally, we are! Season two wrapped up after HUGE holes in between lmao. A lot my newer reader might not even know this series exists lmao. This was always supposed to be my flagship, but yeah, I guess others are more well-liked. Enjoy this season finale, it (probably) won't be the last!)

“Hm! Look, he is waking up, Commander!”

“Stop calling me that, Yena! These titles are absurd.”

The ceiling above you is familiar. The cushions below you are familiar. The two do not evoke positive memories, unlike the two familiar voices that argue for a brief period of time, before they stop. 

Two pairs of eyes look down on you. They sparkle in excitement and thrill—at seeing you, perhaps?

“Sakura? Yena?” you call out the two names you associate with those orbs and reach for where you assume their bodies are. Texture—an arm, a hand. This is reality and not some weird lucid dream. You have experienced enough of those in the past to be cautious, but luckily, both Sakura and Yena are real.

“Welcome back!” Yena shouts. She wraps an arm around your nape and her following hug leaves you breathless for a second, her sizable breasts for another. 

“Back?” you respond, mildly confused, although it is nothing new to you that this girl says random shit again and again without explaining herself.

“Aw, Commander, look at him! He is a literal war hero and doesn’t even know it.”

Yena giggles, thus Sakura gives her a quick slap on the butt. It was certainly not a kind slap, but the idol does not look angry at all. The excitement and amusement do not disappear from her. It’s all absurd. It would all make more sense if you died and went to heaven. No more aliens that want you to record porn, just the weird, dorky, sexy guide from the spaceship and your favorite idol. Sounds like heaven, alright.

“War hero? Damn, I can’t even remember the battle I fought, but it explains why I’m dead.”

Sakura shakes her head.

“Yena, please, this poor guy is completely lost. Enlighten him about everything he asks for. We got the time.”

Yena suddenly straightens her posture. Like a news anchor delivering important, serious information, she tries to stare at you, but her attempt fails. Her laughter echoes off the walls and through the large room. She repeatedly slaps her thigh in loud amusement. Sakura looks pissed.

“Yena! Get your act together!”

“But how would you tell him? It sounds so weird when I try to put it into words!”

“Weird?” you say confusedly. “Nothing can be weird to me now. We are on a fucking spaceship with aliens that can shapeshift and want to film us have sex.”

Yena laughs again. “Oh boy, about that!”

Sakura, visibly at the end of her patience, plants an angry hand on the younger girl's mouth. She glares at her, then at you, and says with a bit of resignation:

“All of the things you just said—they changed. A lot.”

“Huh? How so?” you say while giving looks to both of the girls and their banter. If they weren’t so cute, you’d cringe at their behavior.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Sakura begins as she still suffocates a teary-eyed Yena with the palm of her hand, “we found ways to communicate with other parts of the spaceship. It is absolutely gigantic, we still have no idea how big it actually—Yena, stop it now, please—is. A couple hundred kilometers in each direction, probably. At first we thought it was a trap, that these intelligent creatures would not allow us to meet up in secret and share information. But then, we found the reason: all of them were watching your videos. Every single one of them.”

“What do you me—please, no!”

Your fingers dig into your hair. It feels sweaty, greasy, and definitely unwashed, the new stress is not helping either. Your pornography spread further than you would have imagined. If these aliens saw it, then other people saw it too. The size of this ship makes you imagine that potentially millions of humans could have seen you naked and get it going with dozens of women. Well, there goes your reputation, even if you ever return to Earth.

“Listen to her, she is not finished,” Yena says with a large grin on her ducky facial features. She places a caring hand on your shoulder, while Sakura places a not-so-caring-but-rather-threatening-hand on hers. 

“Don’t interrupt me, please.”

“I won’t, Commander.”

“I said you—never mind. Anyways, these aliens were addicted to the porn, the sex. Something about it made them lose focus. They became sloppy and made mistakes that left holes for us to not only be able to communicate with more and more people, we also made plans to get more information about this place and how we could use this addiction to our advantage.”

“Maybe you noticed it too,” Yena barges in. “Some aliens—especially your Worker—must have been very affected by it. Being irrational, less caring, all that kinda stuff.”

You nod. He certainly was affected. Uncontrollable, maniacal, not paying attention, getting desperate for more material, Worker became a junkie for your fucking porn. 

Your mind spins at the thought. Where the hell is this leading up to?

“Just a couple of days ago,” Sakura continues with intensity, her eyes wide open, “we were able to throw away all our strategies and battle plans. The aliens started to evaporate. At first we thought it was a trick by them and that they figured it out, but then we got reports that they probably died due to an overdose of your porn. We knew their deaths, or rather obliteration, was inevitable. And so we watched them evaporate, one by one, and we took control of their positions. We found all kinds of young people held as cattle, tortured as slaves or being forcefully fed food. Not all of the experiments were cruel of course, but I think everyone is delighted that this shit is over.”

Sakura takes a deep breath and pinches her forehead. Her rambling wasn’t all that coherent, but she got the point across to you, which is—

“So… we won?”

Your question lingers in the air for a bit. The smell of sweat and some fine perfume reaches your nose for the first time since you woke up from your slumber. The mattress below you feels wet, your legs are still kind of numb. 

Oh, it must have been them who gave you the drug. They wanted you to film the ultimate video to finish the aliens off. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly coming together, but the picture couldn’t look any more bizarre. 

“Yes!” Yena exclaims and lunges herself at you. Her entire body presses onto yours, from thighs, to tummy, to titties. Yena doesn’t seem to care that you’re all sweaty. She looks genuinely happy.  It feels great, this feeling of victory, of freedom, Yena pushes it all onto you. 

“After we live streamed your holy-moly-crazy-orgy to the last remaining aliens, they all evaporated.”

“It sounds so stupid,” you giggle and shake your head, “but I guess I’m glad. I bet there are still so many insane things that happened. No need to tell me now, to be honest, I’m not sure I understood the things you already told me. But can I at least know why you didn’t tell me about it?”

“So it didn’t look forced,” Sakura says with the attempt of a wink, “We had no clue if you would have been able to perform under pressure if you knew what was at stake. We also like to keep these top secret issues in a small circle.”

“Damn, you all sound like the CIA.”

Yena rubs her cheek on yours as she gives another hearty laugh. 

“Our guerilla group really developed into a whole organization. It’s gotten even worse during the three days you were asleep.”

“Wait, what?” you groan defeated. Another three days of life missed for something you can’t grasp yet. And what the hell do they mean by organization? The questions don’t stop coming.

“Don’t worry!” Sakura flails her arms as she shifts closer to you as well, “We used the Helper system to keep you hydrated.”

“Wait, how? I don’t—”

“We have some smart people among us,” Yena says, her lips pouty, for some reason, “They were able to hack into the system, which is why we can communicate and use the Helpers to our benefit. Communication, water, food, hell, even teleportation. These things are amazing.”

“I—”

You stare at the ceiling. It’s the same, it’s been the same, it has not changed.

Your eyes open to the possibility that this is all fake, a dream to make you feel better. It’s a simple explanation for the absurdity tenfolding with every word the girls say. But can it be true? A dream this realistic and detailed, with all the right changes? 

Wait, maybe you really died a war hero and this was your reward. Like in those old, ancient stories—your brain is coming full circles. Damn this drug, damn this fucked up spaceship.

“—cannot understand, but I guess it’s fine.”

Silence, then the two girls giggle.

“Yes, it’s basically long story short,” Yena blurts out, “You fucked, fucked up things happened, the Aliens are fucked and we won. Everything is fine.”

Take a deep breath through your nostrils. The air still feels real, the wetness on your skin too, but most importantly, Sakura still smells as good as she did back then. You’re not dead, thank God, and apparently a porn star war hero, thank God? 

“Okay, whatever,” you respond and force your upper body into a sitting posture, “Can I please take a shower now? I smell of sweat and… other, more obscene bodily fluids.”

“Not so fast,” Sakura responds and sits down on your legs. Fuck, they are still numb, you can’t even fiddle them out underneath her light body.

“Let me in on it too, Commander!” Yena shouts and climbs next to you. She begins to pull at your shirt, while Sakura wiggles out your pants from under your butt. 

“What the—hey stop! We don’t need to film anything anymore, right?” you fight back with words, while your body surrenders immediately.

“You are right,” Sakura says as your cock springs free, already semi-hard, “No cameras. This is just for you, your reward.”

It might not be the first time that your favorite idol has taken your cock into her mouth, but there is something absolutely incredible about this time. She, the Sakura, is literally some Commander that gives a guinea pig porn star head for winning a war against shapeshifting aliens—oh yeah, and there is Yena, rubbing her now exposed breasts on your arm as her ducky lips suck your neck. It’s impossible to let that sink in.

You moan out in pleasure. It’s a miracle that your cock still works after what happened during the last session. Then again, it is Sakura who uses her skilled tongue and lips to make you hard and throbbing. 

Judging from Yena’s annoyed hums on your ear as she nibbles on it with great care, she feels neglected. Suddenly, one of her tits is in your mouth so you lazily suck on the hard nipple. Sakura hisses from in between your legs, your cock still in the warmth of her mouth. She stops sucking and jerks you off to properly address Yena.

“What are you doing? This is his reward, not yours! You can’t use him like your plaything.”

“Oh stop it, Commander! I know you want to ride his cock badly and cum on it like the needy bitch you always were while we watched the vi—”

“Fine, shut up!”

Through their bickering, they don’t seem to realize the mess of moans and whimpers you have become. Yena’s soft breast firmly placed in your mouth leaves your mind numb yet blissful, while Sakura’s hand goes up and down your cock at high speed. It’s like she is electrically charging you, to the point where you might explode. Why the fuck does a foreign hand feel so much better on your length than your own?

“Gimme some of that too,” Yena says and leaps at your crotch. At one moment, her chest was all you could see, the next moment it’s her pink pussy, hovering above your face. 

Lips on your tip make you beg for mercy, but the two don’t have any. Sakura pushes down on the back of Yena’s head and you unexpectedly penetrate her face deeply. Your entire cock disappears in her mouth and she slobbers all over it. A mix of saliva and lipstick covers your sweaty legs.. 

“Ye-Yena, K-Kura, I can’t—”

“You don’t like it?” Sakura asks, her tone missing seriousness entirely.

“No, I—fuck!”

Throw your head back as Yena moves. The warmth of her throat is gone and back again as soon as Sakura allows it. The idol is thrusting her friend—or are they just rivals—onto your shaft ferociously. Because of Yena’s firmly placed knees next to your shoulders, you are unable to stop them. All there is is your climax. Resign to it.

“Fuck, I c-can’t, hmpf!”

As the two girls work together to suck out your semen, Yena bluntly drops her cunt onto your lips, its scent a bewitching perfume to make you forget the pain of your overstimulated dick. She tastes delicious, her nectar drips into your groaning, gasping mouth. 

“My turn, finally!”

Yena pulls her stuffed mouth away, but your twitching, probably completely red cock doesn’t stay cold for long as Sakura lifts herself up and after a long hum goes down on your length, it bottoms out with ease, and your mind shuts off.

“So good!” Sakura screams and starts to ride you with no regards to your exhaustion or obvious overstimulation. Her body, flawless skin, flawless proportions, flawless everything, is uncontrollably fast yet she still finds a way to make it a show. Somehow, she is able to lift one of Yena’s legs high to give you a view of what is to come (granted, through Yena’s slick and suffocation, your eyesight is a bit dazed) and then pulls the cum-stuffed duck into a messy kiss. 

It’s not snowballing, it’s an avalanche. Cum drips from their loosely connected lips and tumbles down Sakura’s curves. Weird sucking and licking sounds fill the room as Yena tries to drink your whiteness before Sakura can steal it. The two girls fight and Yena continues to ride your face to not be outdone by the eager Sakura. You feel the remaining snow drip down on your tense torso, but they are eager to lick it off of you. 

This drags on for minutes, until their mix of pants, teases, giggles and actual words are only feral moans. In the confines of Sakura’s cavern, you survived the overstimulation and are ready for another release and possible death if the horny idol doesn’t stop afterwards. Luckily, she seems close as well. Yena also starts to rub her own clit frantically, more and more of her juice covers your features. 

The moment you all cum is surprisingly silent. There is a gasp here and there, wet smooches from fucking and face riding, but other than that, you all succumb to your release rather quietly. Sakura fucks your rod and it’s erupting seed deep into her cunt, while you make sure to open up for Yena to dump her fresh nectar into you. 

Wait a minute. Whose reward was this supposed to be again?

(A/N2: maybe mine? 😉😳)

[stardustprompts]

how to sell a haunted house - grady hendrix sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; death , alcohol , language , mental health

‘you need to sit down.’

‘what did you do?’

‘jesus, i’m sorry I’m not doing it the right way. i’m sure you’d be perfect at this.’

‘I find knowing these details makes it easier.’

‘you should have a drink, too.’

‘i’m not going to die. not for a long time.’

‘just because we shared a bathroom for fifteen years doesn’t mean you know a thing about me.’

‘my yoga instructor knows more about me than you do.’

‘I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d show up and start telling everyone what to do.’

‘look, I know you need to be in charge, but I’ve taken care of this.’

‘stop telling me how to deal with things. things are dealt with. I dealt with them.’

‘you can’t argue with someone when they’re upset.’

‘I don’t know what got into me, but I overreacted and I’m not proud of if it, and it wasn’t fair to you.’

‘you always needed everyone looking at you.’

‘I didn’t do it for attention. I did it because I was upset.’

‘I don’t like coming in here anyways. it’s got bad vibes.’

‘you can’t put a price tag on love.’

‘being here is really bad for my mental health.’

‘I know you don’t like me because i’m not successful enough for you.’

‘i’m actually happy with my life.’

‘if we aren’t related, if we met today, we wouldn’t chose to be friends.’

‘I don’t think we should be in here at all. I think my plan was better.’

‘don’t you feel the vibes?’

‘this is happening too fast. we need to slow down.’

‘your house is haunted.’

‘every single time I give you the benefit of the doubt, or I try to help, it comes back and bites me in the ass. every! single! time!’

‘our house is not haunted.’

‘i’m telling you there’s weird vibe. I can feel it in my gut.’

‘methinks thou doth protesteth too much.’

‘ghosts don’t exist.’

‘there are true things and there are false things, and there are no in-betweens.’

‘there are facts, like houses and car accidents and cremation, and there’s bullshit like ghosts and vibes and exorcisms. and if you start getting the true things mixed up with the false things, you’re fucked!’

‘reality is not a consensus!’

‘when you don’t like the way a conversation is going you deflect with personal attacks.’

‘you’re like some kind of emotionally abusive octopus entangling everyone in your word tentacles.’

‘even I know that you don’t go back in a haunted house after dark.’

‘the only things here are memories, and those can’t hurt us.’

‘you’re very threatened by new ideas.’

‘I offered to stay tonight because I thought it would be good for you. i’m hoping it gives you some closure.’

‘why are you so mad at me? is it because you feel guilty?’

‘i’m sorry you remember it that way because that must feel terrible, but that’s not what happened.’

‘stop telling me what I remember!’

‘no one ever says no to you, (name) because we’re all scared you’re going to lose your temper.’

‘oh, fuck you. nice try, (name), but fuck you.’

‘no matter what you did, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to you.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star. all because you can’t face the fact that your life is sad and empty.’

‘it’s a little late for you to start being my brother now.’

‘you blew my mind. it felt like we were the only two people left in the world.’

‘no matter what, I don’t want to ditch you here with a bunch of ghosts.’

‘right now what you need, for once in your life, is to listen to me.’

‘the way you’re laughing is actually really, really scary.’

‘none of this is real.’

‘stop being scary.’

‘I don’t think I’m well. I think something is really wrong inside me.’

‘don’t you fucking laugh at me. for the first time ever, my life finally makes sense.’

‘I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.’

‘my explanation is logically consistent. yours is all magical energy.’

‘it was absolutely terrifying.’

‘how much trouble are you in?’

‘look at me. you’re not crazy. this really happened.’

‘don’t make this funny.’

everything you’ve seen tonight, i’ve seen it too.’

‘i’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.’

‘it was easier to pretend nothing happened.’

‘my entire life I’ve always known something was wrong with me. i’ve spend my entire life scared that if didn’t do everything exactly right, reality would unravel around me and I’d lose myself again.’

‘I forgive you.’

‘I hope you feel better. i’m fine.’

‘I didn’t think you had it in you.’

‘get out of here.’

‘all the things I did, I want to forget.’

‘i’m not doing it! i’m not doing it again!’

‘you need to get out of here right now.’

‘it won’t hurt me, but it’ll hurt you. you have to go right now!’

‘don’t let him do this again. don’t let him take over.’

‘I need a beer.’

‘an apology would go a long way.’

‘can you keep it down? I had to lie about what happened to a lot of people.’

‘are you seriously upset with me because I saved your life?’

‘you need to accept reality.’

‘you’ve become such a grouch.’

‘I wish you’d let someone take care of you.’

‘do you agree that there are forces greater than this world and we are helpless in the face of them?’

‘we don’t have time to fuck around.’

‘i’d like to say this the weirdest shit that’s ever happened to me but I have a bad feeling it’s about to get a lot worse.’

‘I told you this was a bad idea.’

‘I think we’re fucked.’

‘this is wrong. what you’re doing is wrong.’

‘let’s talk about something that’s actually interesting.’

‘it just hurts a little. and by ‘a little’ I mean ‘a lot’ and also ‘all the time.’’

[hitlikehammers]

stupid superpower

rating: teen tags: humor, brotherly ribbing, Dustin has a ✨stupid superpower✨, Dustin continues to have issues with his tone ✨for @slashify at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: Character Has Powers (requested to be Dustin)

“Look, see!” Dustin points at the mat he’s laid out on the coffee table in Steve’s living room. “This is why Dart was so easy, it makes so much sense now.”

He turns to them with the biggest grin that’s getting a little less gummy by the week, now, but…he looks so proud, is the thing.

And it is painful. The pride. What it’s for.

The way they’re gonna have to probably dash it.

“I,” Steve squints at the setup, start to finish, empty cans framing the perimeter before he sighs: “I am not seeing anything, man.”

“No,” Dustin’s voice goes pitchy, really, he should have outgrown that by now, s’looking like it’s a permanent trait, yeesh; “look.”

And he points with such…some superiority, such imperiousness, like…okay, so maybe it’s the least painful of the list, when they have to dash all that pride. Kid’s gotta fucking learn some humility, man. Like, sooner rather than later.

“I told you I could communicate with them!” Dustin pulls off his cap and throws it to the couch, triumphant. Steve watches the mat for a few more seconds before he straights up, cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You’re telling me,” he says slowly; “that you talk to slugs.”

Because that…that certainly appears to be what the argument has been. They’d kinda thought Dustin has been joking, in previous passing mention. Eddie, at least, definitely thought he was just being an annoying little prick for how many times he asked if either of them felt particularly chiropteran, muttering about traits from interactions, close encounters, bites would obviously count.

Like, it was Dustin, if they took all the crap he said to heart, weighed it seriously, they’d never do anything else.

Like: ever.

“Interspecial gastropodic extracommunicational phenomena,” Dustin rattles off, a little defensive, if Eddie’s gonna be honest; and it wasn’t exactly called for. Steve just asked a question.

Eddie, on the other hand…

“So slugs and snails,” Eddie confirms, droll as fuck by intention, because Eddie is actually very aware of his tone in most situations, thank you very much; “the shell doesn’t deter you.”

“No, I think it’s the whole at least the whole class, maybe the whole phylum,” and he’s so excited, but, he’s also being a fucking know-it-all about it and there is a part of Eddie that doesn’t want to squash Dustin’s enthusiasm but the bigger part of Eddie, but fucking far, knows for a goddamn fact no one could possible squash Dustin’s enthusiasm, or self-confidence, like, Dustin would happily go toe-to-toe with like, Stephen fucking Hawking, and brag afterward that the intellectual stimulation was lacking.

So Eddie doesn’t actually feel bad about any of this and Dustin rambles on.

“But I think if I got my hands on a limpet, or an abalone—“

And when he looks up he must catch something, like he must be able to tell, to read something despite Eddie being very fucking careful to keep a helluva poker face right now—and Eddie’s kinda proud, because maybe the little shithead can be taught.

“You’re joking,” Dustin concludes, dry as fuck and with the audacity to sound…disappointed? Like in a how-could-you-be-so-juvenile-as-to-stoop-to-this-level kind of way which. Which.

“Not at all,” Eddie clutches his non-existent pearls in mock offense, and Dustin’s eyes just narrow.

“I was right.”

“Might not want to say that too loud, Dusty-Buns,” Eddie shoots right back and Steve coughs unconvincingly to cover a laugh and Eddie bites his bottom lip to stop his own smile, less because of Dustin’s reaction and more just because…Stevie. Being adorable.

Steve being his Stevie.

“Yeah, that feels like slander,” Steve adds in thoughtfully, stroking his chin and everything before he turns to Eddie, considering.

“Can you slander yourself, if you’re embarrassing enough?”

And oh, oh: Eddie adores it when his boyfriend’s bitchy side comes out. He adores it so much.

“‘Course you can, big boy,” Eddie can’t help himself as he leans over and pecks at Steve’s cheek; Dustin scowls at them and Eddie can’t help himself, so he licks up Steve’s cheek for the disgusted grown from Dustin and the half-assed shove from Steve that doesn’t move him further away at all.

“You’re just jealous that I have a superpower,” Dustin ultimately shoots back which: okay, Eddie knows he’s capable of better than that, he’s kind of disappointed, that was so weak.

“It’s a stupid superpower,” Steve points out, plain and simple and Eddie wants to clap his hands. He. Loves. His. Bitchy. Boyfriend.

So. Much.

“Or is it a superpower for stupid?” Eddie asks, turning back to Steve like it’s a genuine question, a worthy debate.

“Naw,” Steve shakes his head, almost regretful; “he is pretty fuckin’ smart.”

“More than one kind of stupid, Stevie,” Eddie notes with due gravitas.

“Envy,” Dustin sniffs, so goddamn superior. “Green’s really not your fucking color,” and ooo, there’s a little snarl, a little sneer on his lips; “either of you.”

“I look good in green,” Steve points out, not even petulant, just factual.

“For example,” Eddie picks up and talks over Dustin’s comment like he never made one, leveling the little asshole with a pointed look:

“Some people are stupid about their tone.”

Steve doesn’t even try to cover his snort that time.

“You look good in everything, sweetheart,” Eddie takes the opportunity to comment, to sneak another kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth as he purrs; “and out.”

“Disgusting,” Dustin gags and Eddie turns to glare as he bites out:

“Tone!”

Like, way to prove Eddie’s fucking point for him, wow, the lack of self-preservation is overwhelming here.

“I’m gonna go find El,” Dustin announces, like he thinks it’s an airport; “she will be thrilled to have someone like her around—“

“Remember what I said?” Eddie turns to Steve, exaggerates the knowing look he gives; “types of dumb,” then he turns again to Dustin, and knows his look is pitying, because he fucking means for it to be.

“Telekinesis and slug-speak aren’t even in the same universe, man,” and Jesus H., Dustin looks offended at the suggestion, which.

Which.

“The overlap of telepathic—“

“Slugs, Dustin,” Steve butts in, cuts him off; “I drown those fuckers in little bowls of beer in the yard. They go in willingly,” and oh. Oh, Eddie loves his boyfriend.

Eddie loves his boyfriend so goddamn much.

Because he hadn’t even noticed the set up, the slight of hand, because Steve had overturned the can of PBR he hadn’t finished, that had gone warm anyway, and dumped it into the shallow little bowl that used to have pretzel sticks inside, low enough to, to—

“Well they won’t anymore,” Dustin declares, fucking haughty with it; “because I will tell them—“

“Yet behold, special super slug-whisperer,” Eddie gasps and gestures wide to the mat where the slug demonstration had originally taken place: “whatever do we have here?”

What they have there is the little bowl of beer, set on the slug mat.

With slugs already drowned inside.

“Probably maybe you should be smarter about where you stick your attention if you really want to save your precious children from their hoppy graves,” Eddie shrugs, and infuses his words with as much fake fucking concern as he can fit into them because slug-whispering.

Fucking honestly.

Dustin only wastes a few seconds gaping at the scene, mouth working around something—comprehension, maybe, or just some degree of shock—before he turns his eyes up and glares at them both.

“You’re evil,” he says definitively, pointing; “both of you.”

“Go see El, Super Slug,” Eddie smiles indulgently; “she’s absolutely trembling with anticipation at the arrival of an equal, I’m sure of it.”

“After all, didn’t you say,” Steve shrugs and folds his arms over his chest, looks Dustin up and down before delivering the final blow:

“You were right.”

And Dustin scowls, and Eddie cackles, because that’s his brother, that’s their brother.

“Fucking assholes,” Dustin mutters, and leaves his slug mat and the beer-bowl behind as he stomps out the door: these children really need to learn about cleaning up after themselves, even if they leave in a stompy little huff like a goddamn toddler, fucking hell: but still.

Dustin’s their brother.

Like they were ever going to let him get away with bragging about slug powers.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

[somethinginworl]

He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course.  Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that  sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad).    Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!"  –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect) 

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!! 

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case.  But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom.  Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or  a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

[cld9writes]

✩that tight little dress✩ - namjoon x reader kinktober #2

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day two - roleplay

reader! afab!reader, fem!reader

word count! 1.9k words

tags! roleplay, wall sex, unprotected sex (don't do that.), dirty talk, self-indulgent degradation

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The man across the bar is staring at you like he’s starving. Deep, dark eyes slowly roaming over your body, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep from drooling. His finger strokes across the top of his thigh nervously. The deep red dress that hugs your figure is drawing him in, begging him to come over and flirt with you. Begging him to come over and take you back to his place. He wants to get to know every inch of your body, to rip that dress off and figure out who you are.

That’s the storyline, anyway.

You’ve decided to try something different with your boyfriend. You wouldn’t have guessed it when you started dating, but him being into roleplay made more sense as time went on. You’ve tried tons of different scenarios- college professor and his student dying for extra credit, massage therapist, royalty and their favorite suitor, forbidden lovers. But never pretending to be strangers. It seemed a little odd to him at first- why would you want to fuck a stranger when he’s right at home? But then you explained it to him-

You get the thrill and rush of feeling like you’re doing something naughty, something new. But you have the guaranteed safety net and emotional closeness of your pre-existing relationship. Once it became less about strangers and more about thrill-seeking, he was a hundred percent on board.

That’s what brought you to this dark nightclub. In your tight little dress, in your light little heels, with your tight little pussy aching to be stuffed full of cock. But you haven’t “met” him yet, so that’s entirely out of the question. At least let the man buy you a drink before he lets him take you home. 

The tall man practically glides over to you, standing a stool away from you. He waits for your eyes to meet him before 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but you look stunning.” He opens. You smile, heart fluttering now that the scene has truly started. You giggle, trying to cover up the nerves.

“Thank you! I wanted to look nice tonight, but stunning is even better.”

“For tonight?” He wonders. “You have something special going on? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“I’m supposed to meet up with some friends.” You shrug, as if these non-existent friends are more party buddies than true confidants. “But don’t worry about imposing- I'd Much rather talk with you. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Kim Namjoon.” He smiles, sitting in the barstool next to you. “You have a lovely name, Y/N.”

You two continue to play the scene out over drinks. It’s fun to pretend to be these alter egos. It’s not anything special, but seeing how different your dynamic could’ve been if you met differently, or were different people, is certainly interesting. It doesn’t take long before you’re both slightly sick of the acting, though, and want to get to a different kind of fun. Namjoon breaks the silence first and clears his throat.

“Are you still meeting with your friends?” He asks. You roll your eyes, drinking the rest of your whiskey. 

“No, I’m not.” You say, completely indifferent. “Why?” Namjoon finishes his own drink before responding.

“I was wondering if you’d like to rest at my place. I’d hate for you to go home alone, and I’m sober enough to drive.”

“Why wouldn’t I just go back to mine? Make you drop me off?” You say indignantly. Something in his eyes shifts. They seem sharper, more direct. Your stomach clenches at the change.

“Because we both know what you really want,” He whispers, leaned in right next to your ear. “And I certainly can’t let you go home unsatisfied.” And that’s all it takes. Within minutes, you’ve paid the tab and left the bar.

He drives you back to “his” place, touching you the whole way. For just a moment, he dips his hand down between your legs. He doesn’t touch you, mind you, he wouldn’t dare risk fucking you in the back seat. But the closeness, the hovering, the heat of his fingers. It all makes you bite the inside of your cheek and clench your thighs together. He’s pleased with this reaction and places his hand back on top of your leg. 

He barely manages to get you through the front door before his hand has fully slipped inside your dress. He thought about you while you were walking up the stairs, but he’s fed up now. He just wants to touch you, to feel how wet you are for him. His long fingers slide over the slick bottom of your panties and he relishes in just how soaked you are.

“This worked up over a man you just met.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Shameful little girl, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be such an a-ass.” You snap, trying your best not to stammer. He’s not making it easy. He slips your panties to the side and sticks a finger inside your soaked cunt, testing the waters. The way your walls ache to clench around it tells him you need more. Ever the gentleman, that’s exactly what he gives you.

He pulls you into a kiss, the taste of whiskey still strong on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, grinding your clit down against the rough palm of his hand. He follows suit, moving his hand in small, controlled circles as he finger-fucks you. 

“I can’t wait to go to bed” He huffs. “Just let me fuck you right here.” 

“I don’t know… what if you drop me?” You know he won’t. He’s fucked you up against the wall pleanty of times. But you wanna hear him assure you.

“I never would. Trust me, I’d have to be one stupid bastard to let you fall. You’ve trusted me this much, and I know you’re aching for some cock. Just trust me one more time.” He slips a hand under your thigh, stroking your soft skin as he awaits your okay. 

“Fine.” You sigh. “Pick me up.” 

Without hesitation, he does just that. He hoists you up against the wall, holding you in one arm and pressing the two of your bodies into the wall for added support. After miraculously removing his clothing from the waist down, he taps the sides of your thigh 

You sling your legs over his hips, finally letting him support your weight. He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, fat head threatening to break you as it pushes in. You moan behind bitten lips, almost drowning out the growled “fuck” that slips out of the man before you.

His thick cock fits nearly perfectly within your plush pussy. Despite acting like you’ve never met, it’s clear your cunt has molded to his shape. It’s like he’s been designed to fill you up and hit all those spots every time. The perfect cock, all for you. 

Namjoon kisses you again, pushing you further into the wall as he begins thrusting. Because of the curl in your stomach, he’s instantly rubbing up against your g-spot. He fucks you hard and slow, desperate to feel each moan of yours vibrate on his lips.

“You’re such a slut. He spits between kisses. “You let a man you’ve never met rawdog you in his entryway? What a shame…” 

“I’m not a slu-” You attempt to protest. He chuckles and kisses you, swallowing your response.

He drops his hands down to your pussy, playing with your clit as he fucks you. The double stimulation is incredible, it’s got your mind going blank as he pushes you against the wall against and again. You’re probably going to have bruises on your shoulder blades but it doesn’t matter.

The sex is filthy. You can’t stop moaning, you can’t shut up. Your pussy is sopping wet, and each thrust fills the air with disgustingly lewd noises. Your creamy cunt is dripping everywhere, soaking his upper thighs and dripping out onto the floor. He’s teasing your clit like he isn’t pounding into your stomach, like you aren’t already about to cum. You’re babbling, going on and on about how good it feels and how happy you are it’s his cock filling you up. He tries to shut you up with kisses, but he’s getting drunk off your ramblings and can’t stop.

“You’re shameless…ngh- fuck!”

“Mhm! Mhm!” You nod desperately. You are. You’re clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get even closer. You want his dick in your stomach, in your throat. You want to be able to taste it from where it stands. Because his fingers and his cock have turned you into some kind of freak and you just want more of it.

“I’m g-gonna cum!” You pant. “Gonna cum s-soon~!” He speeds up a little bit, both his pelvis and fingers. You reach your climax, screaming in pleasure as you cream over his throbbing cock. He fucks you through your high, not giving a single shit about how sensitive you may be or how this may end for him.

Your legs shake and squeeze his sides as you ride out your orgasm, desperate for more and for it to be over at the same time. He’s still pounding into you relentlessly, and he grabs your jaw to make you look at him.

“You see how good that felt? See how good it feels to be a slut for me? You think anyone else could’ve given you that tonight? No one else would’ve bothered. But I took care of that cunt of yours. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Sir? Aren’t you ob- fucking hell- obedient-!” His hard persona is faltering, and you can tell it’s because he’s getting close to finishing himself. He can only take so much, but his hand falls right back to teasing your clit and swollen lips. He’s desperate for you to enjoy it for just as long as he does.

Your cumming has made it difficult for him, though. The extra warmth, softness, and tightness makes it feel like you’ve become a succubus, and he wants nothing more than to give his soul to you.

His thrusts are becoming erratic and sloppy. He’s chasing a high he’s far too close to, desperate to cum inside you. Desperate to defile that perfect cunt. His breathing is ragged and fast, he sounds like he’s been running for hours. And you still can’t get a single word out. You try. You try and you try. But the pounding of his cock and his fingers on your swollen clit make the words catch in your throat and come out and moans, curses or whines. Because all you can feel, all you’re aware of.

You two end up finishing at the same time. You reach a second orgasm, creaming all over his thick shaft. This is what finally does it for him, and he finishes inside of you. You feel your insides flood with hot, sticky cum  as he leans against the wall to support your weight. His thighs are shaking against yours, and he’s trying to control his breathing. He swallows hard, trying to calm down before speaking.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not acting anymore. This is much deeper, much more real. You smile, dropping your head in lieu of giving him a hug. 

“I’m glad I met you, too.” 

You come to an unspoken agreement to stay like that for just a second longer. Just until you can stand on your own again.

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and that's day two. this one is a little more disjointed cuz i literally banged this out in under two hours. sorry about that. hope y'all enjoyed tho <3

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[damn-stark]

Chapter 24 By saying something stupid like…

Chapter 24 of Sugar

A/N- Birthday post! Also sorry for what’s going to happen in this chapter ;)

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!, FLUFF, spoilers, talks of miscarriage, SLOW BURN, heavy pining, talks of alcohol, drinking and smoking, long chapter

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- Chapter 202, and the beginning portion of 208 of the Manga

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

You remember the day that the power that coursed through your veins changed from a running creek to raging rapids.

Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, it was so rejuvenating! To your soul, to the very being you were. It was almost like before you came into full realization of your cursed technique you weren’t breathing, and the moment you unlocked your full capability you took breath in your lungs for the first time!

You really don’t know how you lived crippled like that for so long. You probably would have lived your entire life restricted if you had not left Satoru, home, and everything you knew. And if you never took Yuki Tsukumo’s offer.

You truly owe what you became to her. She kind of birthed you in a sense.

She wasn’t there the exact moment you were reborn, you had been separated from her and Todo and driven off the edge of a tall cliff that hung over a vicious ocean by a clan of curse users. But it was her training that accompanied you deep in the depths of the dark waters.

Breathe. Breathe…

Wait…you can’t breathe or you’ll fucking drown! So what do you do?

The waves are violent and thrashing you around making it impossible to focus, and your technique only truly works if you’re focused. So what can you do?

Die? Let this water drag you down a dark void?

It doesn’t sound so bad, it’s not like you were wanted all that much anyway. By your parents at least and by your brother who left you last year.

Suguru loves you. Nanako and Mimiko are growing to love you day by day when you talk with them on the phone. Todo tolerates you, and Yuki cares deeply for you, she wouldn’t have offered to waste her time training you or stuck around for as long as she has if she didn’t.

But you still are unwanted. So how bad can not existing be? Your lungs will fill with water and you'll cry with the need to breathe, minutes will feel like hours as you drown to death, but how could you keep cursing this world and your family by existing as a weak link?

You’ll close your eyes, and the pain won’t change as death is stealing your life, but then the weak link won't exist.

Just…keep your eyes closed…

“You are strong.”

Master?

“What they think of you doesn’t define you. You are not a weak link. You are a force to be reckoned with, never forget that.”

You open your eyes and don’t see her, you just see a school of angelfish swimming past you while her words sound in your head.

“Be the monster they think you are and never shame away from what you were given.”

As her words hit your heart and start pushing away that willingness to let yourself die, there in the distance you catch a light flicker on. It’s small but bright and it swims towards you, slowly taking shape the closer it gets.

At first, you can’t identify what it is you see coming at you, but then when it finally reaches you, you see that it’s a ball of fire, and inside it are darker flames that are shaped into a menacing figure you can’t help but admire.

“Never lose your heart, y/n.”

Never…

The ball of fire disappears proving to be a figment of your imagination to push you to ask yourself why you're letting them win so easily.

You can’t let them. You’ve been taught better, you’re stronger than that. A hundred times stronger. So what are you doing?

You have to get out and fight back.

Besides what kind of elemental manipulator would you be if you died by drowning in water you can control?

You probably only have seconds of air left in your lungs before you start gasping for more, but those seconds mean nothing now as you filter your cursed energy through the water around you, and pass it through miles of heavy water, before you pull down the water down until your head pokes out and you can breathe in fresh air again.

The group of curse users that had been after you are hastily descending the hill to finish you off or make sure you’re dead, but they don’t see you in the water because of the cloudy night. They don’t even notice the waterline at shore pulling back as if a tsunami is about to strike down. They don’t pay attention to the wind quickly picking up speed as it rushes past them.

They do feel the earth below them start to rumble when your cursed energy seeps through the ocean ground and stretches out miles you never could reach before. When they finally step off the hill they notice a fireline come to life and give light to the fact that the water is missing from shore and drawing back further out, before the flames do the impossible by crawling over the water.

The ground begins to tremble more violently to the point the earth around them is cracking, and finally, they question what's escalating. “What’s happening?” You hear one of them panic.

The wind starts to howl, and the cracks begin to glow as you leak fire through them without having them notice just yet.

“It’s her,” one of their voices trembles as they figure it out, considering that Mother Nature isn’t capable of doing what’s happening at this very moment.

“Eyes in the water!” One of them finally thinks.

And when their gazes follow the fire trail out into the water they finally spot you miles out, creepily walking out of the water that draws past you.

Fire basks your arms completely, and flames cascade down your hands to fuel the cracks spreading out like wildfire, and beautifully but menacingly mix with the gusts of air that start to swirl around your feet and gain height.

“Kill her!” One of them bellows as they point at you slowly creeping forward.

The cursed energy running out of your stomach travels throughout every inch of your body and for the first time it strikes your heart, making it jolt, and making you fear that it somehow stopped—Then again you wouldn't be standing upright or be as coherent as you are now, but you do have that sudden fear until this never before sense of power strikes your body and awakens a part of you that you didn’t know existed.

It’s so bizarre, yet it's a satisfying rush that gives new life to the very technique you were born with. Intensifying its power to its maximum degree, and changing something within you that you don’t notice yet, but the group of curse users do.

It isn’t possible, but to them, it seems that way. To them it looks like red-orange fire leaks through your eyes and burns away the very eye color you were born with to take over and settle in your eyes and show everyone who looked at you how powerful you are and how menacing you can be.

Nevertheless, they don’t scare away, they stand their ground, so you decide to play with what you just got by right away picking up the wind's speed, and then fueling the fire's intensity. You widen the cracks in the ground while also creating more. And lastly, you stop walking toward them and begin to smirk before you throw your hands up as you raise the water behind you hundreds of feet into the sky, once and for all showing your change in power.

——

That was the day everything changed for the better.

“So dismantling his domain huh?” You greet Yuki without looking back at her, you recognized her loud footsteps from the moment they started to echo as she approached.

“It’s the only way to defeat Kenjaku,” she says as she sits back on the lounging chair.

You lean over the balcony and just mindlessly watch the passing clouds in the sky with an unlit cigarette in between your fingers as you debate whether to give into your vices and prove that you’re stress goes beyond just worry for this upcoming fight, or leave the cigarette unused to prove to yourself that the thought of his sacrifice doesn’t mean a thing.

“What, you're not going to try and stop me from being stupid?” Yuki interjects shamelessly. “Or is that fight only reserved for the men you love?”

Pft!

Tsk. No.

Her words are stupid, silly.

“No,” you laugh and light the cigarette. “You’re stupid I don’t love him. He’s…” why did you hesitate? “He’s my friend. He’s a good friend.”

“Mhmm,” Yuki hums sassily as she knows you too well.

“And no,” you interject abruptly. “I won’t fight you.”

You turn around to face her and lean back against the railing.

“Because I trust you,” you continue explaining with a genuine look painted on your face. “Every move you make that day I’ll trust with my whole heart.”

The corner of her lips spread to a smile before she puts sunglasses on and leans back to relax, as usually does. It’s why people call her lazy, and even if it is partially true, the other reason is that she does a lot that people don’t see. Her times off are well deserved.

“Besides it's not like you’re planning to sacrifice yourself now are you?” You ask and draw in a short drag of your cigarette.

“Well,” Yuki slowly rolls out. “Who knows really? As much as we can plan when the time comes things change. We have to adapt to what’s thrown at us. If that means making the ultimate move then I’ll make it, no hesitation.”

You keep the cigarette in between your lips and draw in a long and deep drag now.

“Would you?” She redirects.

You leave your gaze on her for a moment before you drop your eyes to the ground and pull the cigarette out to drop the ash on the floor whilst you stay quiet even if the question needs no time to ponder over.

“If the need arises yes,” you share quietly just out of shame for one thing. “I’d much rather give my daughter and my students a chance for an easier life even if it means I’m not in it.” You sigh and pull the cigarette towards your lips. “Satori will grow up resenting me for leaving her alone, but at least she won’t be tormented by one evil.”

You expected to cry as those heartbreaking words came out of your mouth. When you think about your daughter having to live without you any other time tears never fail to well in your eyes as your heart can’t handle the agony, but right now maybe it’s the fact that you’re comforted by Yuki’s presence, or just enveloped by the seriousness of the moment, but you don’t cry. You just smoke the death stick in between your lips. So maybe that’s it too.

“And if it happens,” you add just above a whisper. “If I’m the one that dies that day…free my brother, will you?” You ask not because he’s the strongest and the sorcerer world as you know it needs him, but because your world needs him.

“Of course, that’s the plan,” she fails to understand the true meaning behind your question.

“No,” you argue and raise your head to share a pressing look. “Satori will need him. I left him in charge of her if anything happens. So please if something happens to me, get him out as quickly as you can.”

Yuki lifts her head and pushes her glasses down her nose to make sure that you see her brown eyes on you as she assures you. “I will.”

You let out a deep breath of relief and finally break away from your spot to walk behind her.

“Can I braid your hair?” You ask.

“Not if you have that cigarette lit. What if you burn my hair?” She remarks, making you pout and walk over to kill the cigarette on the ashtray before you return behind her.

“Sit up,” you command as you sanitize your hands so they don’t feel so dirty after that cigarette.

Yuki groans in protest but she lazily pushes herself up to leave you access to her long blond hair.

“You know,” you share thoughtfully while you carefully gather her hair in your hands. “When I was young, my mother always told me that doing your hair, putting on makeup, and dressing nicely was a weapon. They think of you as an accessory, she said, and that’s what gives you an advantage.” You scoff softly and start to carefully knead her hair together from the top of her head.

“I used to think she was wise, but as I grew up her words don’t hold as much inspiration anymore. They’re quite sad,” you admit. “Given she’s still at home, living a miserable life beside a man who doesn’t love her anymore.”

“Well,” Yuki sighs as she drapes one leg over the other. “Given her situation, I guess those words mean something to her. She expected you to live the same way, and wanted to share her knowledge the only way she knew how to.”

You often thought of it like that. When you were younger of course, but now, maybe it’s because of all the resentment clouding your head, but those words are terrible advice, why would she want you to live like that too?

Why wouldn’t she fight for something better for you? Sure you use your femininity to your advantage, the world dominated by men demands it, but there’s a difference between her advice and the choices you make.

“I suppose,” you whisper in comprehension. “But why wouldn’t she say, like, get all pretty if you want to, don’t do it for anyone but yourself, you know? If that makes you happy then do it.”

Yuki shrugs and mumbles, “you were raised differently.”

“Yeah, I guess we were. But I still wish I could be like, I’m hot with all the pretty getup and I’m hot without it too. And thousands of people think so too.”

“And your face is worth thousands of bucks,” Yuki adds on to your case.

You grin. “Boom! Exactly!” You exclaim and laugh softly.

“Now,” Yuki blurts with a sudden burst of energy that slightly catches you off guard since she was just so calm. “Why not let yourself love again?”

You sigh deeply through your nose, making her snicker and sit up straighter, causing her hair to slip out of your fingers.

“Hold still,” you hiss and grab her hair to yank her head back.

“I mean the guy is your type, he’s obviously head over heels for you, and you’ve grieved long enough,” she continues to say, bringing irritation to your once peaceful mind. “Plus Geto told you to find someone else, so I don’t understand your hesitance. Just jump his bones already.” She snickers cheekily.

You let her hair go this time and walk to the side of her chair to look at her with a judgy look. “Jump his bones?” You question and she laughs.

“Want me to get dirty or what?” She teases.

You roll your eyes and return to your spot to finish braiding half of her hair.

“What? Are you going to be single forever?” She follows up with another question in your silence.

“Yuki,” you mumble seriously.

“Tsk.” She flicks her wrist. “If you’re going to say it’s too soon, yeah I’m aware of when he died, but,” she goes serious, losing the lightheartedness from her tone. “You can mourn him however long you want y/n, but the truth of the matter is that he’ll still be dead.”

Your breath hitches and your irritation quickly transforms into anger.

“So why should you deny yourself something good because of it? We as sorcerers don’t have a promise of a long life you know?”

You part your lips to contradict her, but there’s some truth behind her words you don’t want to admit out loud, so instead you let your anger dwindle and bring up another fact. “You know what I’ve done…I don’t deserve any kind of kindness that love brings.”

“So what? Is he innocent?” She rebuttals. “It doesn’t matter how bloody your hands are, y/n—”

“It does to me. I don’t deserve being loved like that. Especially not by someone as good-hearted as him.” you cut her off while you collect the end of her half-braid and the rest of her hair into a ponytail.

Yuki feels you finish before you let her know and peers back to pierce her scolding glare into you. “You can’t let your fear of losing someone control you,” she says without needing you to say it. She sees it in you. “You’ll end up alone and that’s what you fear the most isn’t it?”

You part your lips, but you’re left too stunned to talk.

Behind your own protests, the fear of feeling that emptiness again terrifies you. Suguru’s death made you feel empty for so long, and losing the child you were expecting only worsened the fact. You don’t want to feel it again. So even if it means yearning forever, you told yourself that you won’t put yourself through that again, and you won’t put anyone through that pain either.

You don’t get to tell Yuki that though because someone with light and bare footsteps approaches the balcony. And neither of you need to look back to know that it’s Tengen.

“Well if it isn’t you, Star killer,” you greet them spitefully.

Tengen hums and walks around Yuki and you, to be able to see your faces.

“You know,” they interject calmly. “Ever since you’ve gotten here all you’ve ever given me is judgment. That’s a lot coming from a woman who’s drowning in the blood of hundreds of people.”

You focus on one set of eyes and narrow your gaze as you press a hand on your hip.

They probably expected you to fold over in grief, but you instead chuckle. You genuinely laugh. Which doesn’t stun Tengen.

“Yes, I am,” you admit with a hint of smugness and no hesitation or an ounce of remorse. You’ve felt bad before, but that was long ago and has long been resolved when you chose your path in life and decided to not live in regret out of fear of hating yourself.

That’s why you’re smug and certain with every word. “I embraced evil. I’m a monster. I accept it and I don’t regret what I did. We’re sides of the same coin, so I don’t judge you for that, I don’t hate you for that. You failed to save my friend, and you wanted to kill my mentor. That’s why I hate you.” You smile sweetly.

“And yet you’re here,” they point out the damn obvious.

You nod stiffly. “You have the door to open my brother's prison. Helping you could mean saving the Jujutsu world as we know it, of course, I’m here. You’re not planning to kill me, are you? An act of justice?”

Tengen scoffs and drops their head. “No,” they say. “You’re my guard. And I, unlike you, don't judge.”

You huff and feign a smile before you lean towards one side to then walk over and sit beside Yuki to lay back and rest too.

“What do you want, Tengen?” Yuki questions their presence. “We’ve brainstormed all we needed to for today.”

Tengen softly claps their hands and a creepy smile spreads on their pale rectangular face. “I've come to invite you both to a nice bar date the night after tomorrow. I’ve already let the Death painting womb—.”

“Choso,” you correct them. “His name is Choso. He’s going to risk his life for you, you might as well say his name.”

Tengen clears their throat and reiterates themselves. “I let Choso know. I just needed to let you know, so wear something fancy. Black tie is the dress code.”

It’s kind of random, you never thought they’d be one to be considerate considering he’s a higher being, but you do like this idea.

“What’s the occasion?” Yuki probes in confusion. “Fattening us up before Kenjaku kills us or what?”

Tengen lets out a deep sigh and for the second time, they sound annoyed at Yuki. “No, it’s simply a nice evening. So you can all enjoy yourselves while you’re here.”

You smile as you slide on some expensive shades over your eyes so they don’t see you closing them. “Well, I for one like the idea. It gives me an excuse to wear the gown I was supposed to wear for the Gala.”

“Ah, is that the excuse you’re saying?” Yuki taunts you, making your lip curl to a scowl.

“Shut up. I'll burn your hair.” You grimace your threat and make her laugh before you both can go on ignoring Tengen to enjoy your evening side by side.

——

*LATER*

“Guys! Guys!” You shout as you burst into the room with a happy grin on your lips. “Look what Ijichi just brought me from home!” You exclaim and show off a magazine that Yuki and Choso can’t see from where they’re sitting.

“Remind me,” Yuki interjects curiously. “Who’s Ijichi again?”

“He’s, uh, a head manager at the school,” you remind Yuki as you walk to the table she’s at. “He was my only underclassman when I was in my second year.”

“Ah right? The geeky guy.”

“Mhmm. Anyway.” You beam and reach the table to slam down the magazine in between Choso and Yuki. “My new manager sent me the December issue of the magazine I’m featured in before its release date!”

Both Choso and Yuki lean over the table to take a better look at what you’re showing off.

“It’s me in a shoot inspired by the Birth Venus!” You explain the cover you're on.

“Hot,” Yuki immediately compliments you with a faint smirk. “I thought you were retiring though?”

You plop yourself down and fold your arms over the tabletop to lean over with your chin resting on your arms. “Yeah, well the editor of this magazine is a friend of mine and he wanted me to be on the cover, so when he pitched the idea I couldn’t resist. Plus Kinji, Kira, and the twins pushed me to take the job, so I did it,” you muse as you admire the cover and avoid looking at Choso’s reaction as he keeps studying the cover as if he’s trying to really look at every single detail.

One because you can’t let your heart swoon and get all flustered by how soft his eyes are as he examines the cover, and two, you’re still upset at him for his choice at yesterday's meeting.

“You look great with that black wig,” Yuki points out to another version of you in the same photo but depicted as one of the other figures from the painting.

“Aw really?” You coo and touch your chest. “Should I dye my hair black?”

“No,” Choso blurts. “Your hair color is fine as it is.”

Yuki holds your gaze and tries to show a teasing smile, but you look away and clench your jaw to fight the giddy emotions trying to take over.

“Your eyes,” Choso continues to add. “They’re a different color. Why?”

You swallow thickly and only spare a glance his way. “It’s harder landing jobs with my eyes the color they are,” you explain to him with your eyes focused on the magazine. “And it’s just not all that common, so to avoid making things hard, I wear contacts of the eye color my eyes were before.”

“Oh, well, the color of your eyes now is more than fine, you shouldn’t change it,” he says bluntly without an ounce of timidness.

But you do grow timid and clear your throat while you bite back a smile. “Thanks,” you mutter.

“You look…” Choso clears his throat. “Very beautiful. Congratulations on your achievement.”

Your face immediately burns hot and your heart skips a beat before it starts to pound. “Uh, thank you, Choso,” you manage to say completely collected.

Yuki hides her teasing smile by picking up the magazine and flipping through the pages.

“Uh did you hear Yaga’s dead?” You try to fill the silence to avoid talking to Choso or letting him talk to you. “He was killed by the old bag of bones Gakuganji.”

“I heard,” Yuki mumbles with her attention wavered. “I didn’t expect anyone else to do it honestly. The higher-ups are all slimy pieces of shit.”

“You said it,” you agree.

Her phone then goes off and she jumps off her seat to take it out of her back pocket. “I’m going to take this,” she excuses herself as she drags herself away with a small smile. “Have fun,” she directs at you before she closes the door behind her, leaving Choso and you alone in a silence you fill with tension due to the emotions you can’t turn off.

You could actually sit in silence since you pick up the magazine and go through it, but you’ve barely said a word to Choso since yesterday, even now you can barely look at him, he can’t last another day with you obviously upset at him.

“Y/N, you’re upset,” he breaks the silence.

You lift the magazine higher up to cover your face completely and mutter to the pages with pouted lips. “It’s your life, you can throw your life away if you want to.”

“I’m…” he pauses and sighs before he leans over and pushes the magazine down with his finger so you can look at him and know that he’s being sincere. “I’m not throwing my life away. If it happens I’m sacrificing my life away for my—”

“For your brothers, I know,” you cut him off and shut the magazine with force before you throw it on the table and continue with a narrowed look and anger laced in your tone. “But do you really think Yuji will see it that way after finally understanding what you are to each other? Do you really think your brothers would want that? Don’t you think they want you to fight and live instead of fight and die?”

You don’t shy away from being honest, after all, you've been building up that argument.

It leaves Choso speechless both from disbelief to your emotions so boldly shared and expressed, and to what you’re saying. He has to take a minute before coming up with an argument. “I hope my brothers will understand.”

You scoff and drop your head, making him continue to try and make you see it his way.

“Yuji will understand. Besides, it’s not like he’s known me for long. It’s been 12 days since we met. If I die I’ll only be a fleeting memory to him. He doesn’t need me really. No one does.”

Your pout disappears, your eyebrows slowly ease from their pinched hold, and your shoulders fall as you let out the deep breath you were holding in with your anger as his words sink into your heart.

You don’t regret your harshness, you don’t regret your anger. You still are upset, his words don’t ease that. No matter how much you try to fight it, your anger just doesn’t disappear, but right now you feel pity and sadness that he thinks that because it’s not true.

“Listen to me Choso,” you speak softer. “Yuji will need his big brother. Now more than ever. Especially in times after this is over, in the down times. He’ll need you. And the rest will too.”

Choso draws out a shaky breath and his brown eyes gleam with tears.

“And I…” you pause and catch your heart before it can say what it wants.

Yet you need him to understand, you need him to see things your way, and you need to fight so your fear doesn’t come true. “…I’ll need my friend.”

His breath hitches and he sits up straighter.

“I’ve lost too many friends. I don’t want to lose another…so at least fight a bit more to just stay alive.”

He holds your gaze with his eyes slowly widening, his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks burning as a blush grazes on them.

You can’t know what’s happening inside him, but he does feel like his heart stops and his breath gets caught in his throat while it all goes quiet, and only you exist in this vast space before you disappear too and all he sees is a few seconds of darkness. When he blinks though, he's suddenly somewhere else; outside, surrounded by a sea of grass that looks gold by the sun's gentle light casting over the earth. There’s tall trees scattered around, and a gentle and warm breeze blows past him.

He hears laughter and when he follows it he sees his little brother Yuji with blankets under one arm and a girl with long dark hair sitting on his shoulder. He can’t see her face but in the back of his head, he knows it’s your daughter, Satori. Which is odd because the only time he’s seen her is the other day behind a screen when you introduced them.

Yet he doesn’t dare question any of it further. He accepts what’s happening because he feels happy, comforted, and he feels something overwhelmingly positive, something new but welcoming, something that fills him with a never-ending warmth, something like love. It's not a new feeling, he's always felt all these emotions because he knew he loved his brothers, but right now it’s heightened to an astounding amount.

“Choso,” he hears your voice, soft and oozing with honey.

“Hm?” He probes and drifts his eyes ahead to see your white hair gleaming brightly because of the sun's light bouncing off your hair. He sees the skirt of your soft pink dress flowing gently because of the breeze, and he notices you holding something as you walk down the hill.

“Look who’s awake,” you say excitedly before you turn around and show off a little baby that looked to be a few months old, with white hair like yours, and wearing a pink sundress that coordinated with yours.

“Why don’t you say hi to Daddy,” you tell the baby with a happy smile. “Hi, Daddy.”

The baby girl glances at you and smiles, causing his heart to swoon and for an awe-struck smile of his own to tug on his lips as he watches you and…his baby he shared with you.

There was nothing more he was assured of than the fact that the baby in your arms was his and yours. You shared a good and happy life and a little blessing.

“She said it!” You exclaim delusionally. “Say it again, hi Daddy.”

The baby's eyes stay on Choso and she coos, making him smile brightly.

“Good evening, my girl,” he greets the baby, and she squeals before she throws her arms out and reaches for him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Choso picks up his pace and reaches out to take the baby. However, before he could wrap his hands around her he blinks and suddenly it's all gone and he’s back in the parlor room with you sitting across from him with a black kimono on and no baby in your arms.

It was all just a fake memory…

One he wanted to come true more than anything.

“Choso?” You call out in concern and a hint of annoyance as he looks like he suddenly spaced out.

“Hm?” He snaps his attention to you.

You narrow your gaze to study him for a second, but you don’t find anything concerning so you sit back and relax, failing to realize that he was just stuck in a fake memory triggered by a sudden realization he had of you.

“Did you hear me?” You query with worry.

“Yes. And I’ll try,” he assures you, making you let out a small breath that makes your anger slowly fizzle out and a faint smile grows on your lips.

“That’s all I ask,” you say softly . “Now,” you change the subject as the room finally loses the tension you had filled it with. “I should let you know that Kinji and Kirara called me, they’ve met with Itadori and Fushiguro.”

“Oh. That’s good,” he says and sits back to tuck his hands in his sleeves. “Did they agree to help?”

You smile wider and nod. “Yeah. After a bit of fun back and forth they said they agreed.”

Choso sighs and nods. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

You pick up the magazine to return to the page you were on before you got interrupted. “You should text Itadori,” you suggest. “It doesn't have to be a long conversation, just ask him how he’s doing. And then ask him what he has planned for the day. I don’t know, something simple.”

“Do you think…he’ll appreciate it?” Choso asks with concern.

You glance over at him and nod. “Yeah. I’m sure he would. I always liked it when my brother checked up on me.”

Choso lets out a deep breath and nods before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at the screen.

“Could you help me?” He asks with his normal deep voice, but there was a way he said his question that makes you grin.

“Of course,” you don’t hesitate to give in and put the magazine down to quickly fall beside him and help.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Feeling nervous about the way you look and the thought of walking into that cantina date is something that hasn’t happened in a long time.

You tend to get nervous sometimes, more so when you were younger. It was a part of growing up, but as you grew up and grew to be more confident, feeling nauseous and self-conscious about the way you look went away.

Maybe it is because you went on dates with the same man for 11 years of your life, or because when you worked in your public job as a model you just didn’t care what non-sorcerers had to say or what they thought about you. But tonight, ever since you started getting ready for the cantina date Tengen hosted, your nerves are just eating you up. It’s annoying and persistent!

You almost want to avoid walking in the cantina when you stop outside the double doors, but what else are you going to do in this isolated place? Stay in your room and watch a movie or read a book?

You can do that any other night, so after a deep breath you slide the doors open and walk in to see a pretty small and casual cantina with a jukebox in one corner, a stage with a piano, and…in front of the long bar Choso steals all your attention, and you realize how much trouble you’re in as you notice how absolutely breathtaking he looks in a black and white suit that all gets tied together with a sloppy bowtie.

He looks so gentle, and his already rich brown eyes only gleam a much more intense rich brown in that formal suit tempting you to risk it all and crush the wall you’re putting up. He entices you without as much as trying.

But that’s it you almost give in, you remain collected no matter how majestic he looks.

However, him on the other hand, his rich brown eyes found you the moment the doors opened, and when your eyes landed on him it was like he was seeing you for the first time; he inhales deeply and straightens up while his eyes widen, a fluttering goes off in his stomach, and his heart begins to pound in his chest to the point he thought you could notice.

He always liked looking at you, he found peace in watching you, but right now as you gleamed like a divine star in your long black gown adorned with thousands of tiny rhinestones, he felt like he wasn’t worthy enough to be looking at you. It's like you were a goddess who just came from above.

And he didn’t know much about gods and goddesses, but he knew you were one now.

“Y/N Gojo, I’m glad you could make it,” Tengen’s greeting startles you, causing you to clutch onto your chest with your gloved hand and look at them in annoyance.

“You fucking scared me, prick,” you sneer, “you need to stop appearing like that.”

Tengen smiles with amusement. “Jumpy? It’s only the same people you’ve been with for the past 4 days.”

You glare at them and finally depart from the entrance, but not without muttering under your breath. “Why don’t you shove that greeting up your ass.”

“I heard that.”

“Good,” you quip and look back at Choso with a genuine smile. “Choso. Good evening.”

Said man swallows thickly and clears his throat. “Good evening, y/n.”

You stop before him and discreetly study him from up close, noticing how well the suit hugged his muscles, and how the neckline hugs his veiny and muscular neck before you force your focus on his sloppy bow tie. “Uh, can I fix your bow?” You ask first just in case he doesn’t want your help.

Choso glances down at his bow and brushes his fingers over it, noticing now that it’s messed up. “Oh,” he mouths. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You flash him a happy smile before you take a step closer to the point you can feel each other's breaths unfurl over your flesh, and you can feel the warmth of his lips tempting you for just a taste as you begin to help him.

“Uh,” Choso breathes out. “Is that…the gown you were going to wear for the gala thing you mentioned.”

You stop fixing his bow tie to first glance at his lips before you lock eyes and smile. “Yeah, actually. I didn’t want to let it go to waste so I said why not wear it for an hour or two tonight.”

Choso holds your gaze and nods softly before his eyes flicker down to your lips, and then they take in the long gloves that match your black dress, before he lastly looks at the slits on the sides of your dress that show off your soft-looking skin, and make his mind run wild. That's why he quickly drops his gaze to the floor and speaks sweetly. “Well, you look very…beautiful in it…is that okay to say?”

Your breath hitches and your face and body grow incredibly hot, but you manage to play it off with a giggle. “Yeah,” you assure him. “That’s totally fine. Thank you Choso.”

You focus back on fixing his bow tie and avoid looking into his eyes as you bring up a compliment of your own. “And you can pull off a suit my friend.” You laugh nervously, and out of their own will, your eyes fly to his lips before you meet his gaze. “You look very handsome.”

And he did. He absolutely pulls off the suit with his buns and those dreamy brown eyes of his. He looked just breathtakingly sexy and you want nothing more but to grab him and kiss him. He made your heart swoon and sigh like a love-struck fool.

You could just stare at him all day, the sight of him dressed so formally is so addicting. And you know deep inside it’s not good to feel so strongly for him, you and your mind are trying to fight against every aroused feeling filling your heart and body, but having him right before you looking as beautiful as he does makes you feel yourself losing the fight.

“Oh,” he gasps and grows a deep red. “Thank you. Uh, Tengen loaned me the suit.”

“Hm, well they picked the right one,” you continue to fluster him before you gently pat on his fixed bow tie. “All better.”

Choso glances at your finished work and nods. “Thank you. Now,” he clears his throat and steals one more glance at your painted lips before he turns to his side. “Do you want to sit while we wait for Tsukumo?”

Before you can agree Choso pulls out your seat for you.

“Oh wow, look at you,” you praise him with a beaming grin while you slide on the seat. “Thank you, Cho. Now,” you shift your attention to Tengen walking behind the bar. “Tengen two tequilas, please. And do them half. I don't want to scare off my friend here.”

“You know,” Choso interjects as he takes a seat beside you. “I don’t even think I can get drunk.”

You look away from Tengen preparing what you asked for to look at Choso smugly. “Oh, we can try. We can definitely try. Just,” you sigh and look ahead with a grin. “Don’t get me drunk. The last time I got drunk I cried and had to be helped to bed.”

“If you puke you’ll clean it up,” Tengen throws at you, making you laugh.

“Don’t worry as long as you don’t give me any of Miguel’s concoctions I’m good, one time,” you tell Choso. “Miguel made this very good but intoxicating drink, I was sick for days. I almost got alcohol poisoning…” you trail off and a frown flickers on your face as you recall flashes of those days with your family that’s mostly all gone now.

Choso notices but he doesn’t get to question it before Tengen puts the small cups out before you, causing your smile to reappear on your features.

“Now,” you change the atmosphere back to an amusing one. “You can drink it fast, or by sips. Whatever you prefer, but personally I drink it in one go.”

Choso looks at the clear drink with skepticism before he picks it up.

“Lime?” You offer as Tengen puts some out for you. “It helps for after you drink.”

“Do you take it?”

You snort. “Honey, I should not be saying this so proudly, but I have been drinking since I was a teenager, I’m a pro.” You laugh and pick up the drink to push the little cup towards him. “Cheers to…us. Our friendship.” You smile sweetly.

Choso doesn’t hesitate to clink his cup against yours to that, a bit too harshly may you add, but he only wasted a few drops, it wasn’t hard enough to break the cup or spill the entire drink. Luckily.

“Now go!” You exclaim and slam the bottom of the cup against the surface before you part your lips and swiftly swallow the strong tequila in one go.

Choso on the other hand manages to swallow it all quickly, but as it goes down his throat it burns and he immediately expresses that by scrunching his nose in disgust and coughing.

“How do you drink that shit?” He asks hoarsely, making you grab his arm and laugh—“I don’t find it funny.” He grumbles.

You laugh harder and mindlessly lean towards him.

“Another round,” you say between laughs. “This time,” you tell Choso. “Suck on the lime.”

Choso doesn’t argue against another drink, he just sighs deeply and takes the lime. “All right I’m trusting you.” He says.

You slide your hand off his arm and lean back to your space. “The taste won't go away, but it grows on you. If not then your tastes lie somewhere else.”

Tengen returns your cups with more alcohol, but before you can pick them up this time, the doors open and Yuki finally joins the party.

“You started without me,” she complains.

You peer back and huff. “Yeah, you’re late. Don’t worry though it won’t take you long to catch up.”

Choso gets out of his seat and pulls out Yuki’s seat for her just like he did for you.

“You look nice, Tsukumo,” Choso compliments her.

Yuki grins. “Thanks and you don’t look bad yourself.”

When she sits down she leans forward to take a look at you. “You look very elegant.”

You clasp your gloved hands together and flash her a sweet smile. “Thank you, master. You look quite breathtaking yourself.”

“Always.”

You forget how similar her personality is to Satoru’s. It can be annoying a lot of the time.

“Anyway,” you bring the attention back to the bar. “Catch up or get left behind.”

As soon as you say that Tengen doesn’t falter and leaves a small shot glass in front of Yuki.

“Okay, before we drink,” she says and turns to face Choso and you. “I just want to announce that Maki Zen’in annihilated the Zen’in clan.”

Your eyes widen with shock, and your lips express your glee.

“Naoya Zen’in included,” she adds. “We should toast to that.”

You laugh breathlessly and pick up your cup. “You know,” you share with growing pride for the girl without cursed energy. “Shoko called me this morning and said she needed to tell me something, we got distracted talking about other things so she never told me. I bet this was it.” You laugh again and nod slowly in comprehension. “The other clans must be fuming.”

“Why?” Choso asks innocently, unaware of the disdain for the disgrace that people born with no cursed energy are in sorcerer families—“I thought you said your family didn’t get along with the Zen’in clan?”

You put your cup down and sigh. “They don’t, but having a clan be killed by a woman with no cursed energy is…how can I put this…it’s a catastrophe.”

Choso scratches his head in confusion but doesn’t dare dive into that conversation.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuki cuts in as she slaps her hands on the tabletop. “They’re gone. And so is y/n’s husband that never was.” She snickers. “Let’s cheers to that, and Maki for her achievement.”

You pick up your cup and the three of you come together to clink your cups together with smiles not formed by the toast, but instead the joy of the simple moment before it’s completely washed over by overwhelming humor as Yuki and you catch Choso’s bad reaction to the strong drink.

“Careful,” Yuki manages to muster after she calms down. “Give y/n any more drinks and she’ll hop on that piano and she’ll give you a show.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “It happened one time…three times,” you mutter with embarrassment as you recall the memory of years ago.

“One time when we were visiting the States,” Yuki doesn’t get the hint. “We came across a bar mainly used by soldiers, we got drunk because we were having so much fun, and this one,” she points at you. “Had all the soldiers eating out of her hand with her skills on the piano.”

You drop your head on your hand and groan. “Ten years,” you grumble. “Ten years of lessons because my mother said it was good for a woman to have more elegant skills besides fighting. I had to show it off.” You lift your head and only show off a faint smile before you hide it by taking a long sip of the drink Tengen made for you.

“You both often share stories of your past. How long were you traveling together?” Choso asks as he sits back to try and get a good look at Yuki and you.

“A year,” you and Yuji answer simultaneously.

“She showed me part of the world,” you muse with admiration. “Some would say we were bumming it. But we just had fun along the way.”

“Yeah and then you had to go and get married,” Yuki almost says with a hint of annoyance.

You lean towards her to point out a fact. “We still traveled after that, Master.”

Yuki shrugs lazily. “We never had the same fun though,” she whines, a truth you had yet to hear.

You stick out your tongue and then roll your head away to look at your drink. Silence comes through, but you don’t let it last long.

“We’re going to play a game, okay? It’s not a drinking game,” you let Yuki know already before she gets her hopes up. “It’s just a question game. We ask questions and answer honestly.”

“Huh? What kind of game is that?” Yuki complains.

“Just…play it,” you press between gritted teeth before you drop your irritation with a deep breath and peer over at the people beside you. “What do you want out of life? It can be a year from now, months, a decade, or even five years from now. Just say what you want.”

Both Choso and Yuki let out a pensive breath, and in their silence, your answer already comes to you without struggle because it’s something you pondered over lately.

“Well,” Yuki is the first to break the silence. “I don’t know, maybe teach someone else. I think that’d be fun, I enjoy passing on my knowledge,” she shares thoughtfully. “Or complete my study on those born without cursed energy but have a heavenly restriction.”

“So Maki Zen’in?” You interject, earning the attention of her big brown eyes.

“Exactly. Now,” she trails off and leans towards you on the tabletop. “You.”

She’s aiming for a specific answer, you can see it through her wide charming smile, but you don’t give her the satisfaction, you don’t let your heart win just yet.

“Well,” you sigh and fiddle with the straw in your drink. “I want to go to Mexico. I hear the beaches there are beautiful. I think going there will be fun,” you share honestly, but it’s one truth to disguise your true desire.

Yuki is smart albeit, she learned to read you the first year you trained with her. She quickly tries to unmask you. “Spit it out. That’s bullcrap.”

Choso looks at you and Yuki slightly stunned simply over the fact that Yuki could read that off you without you needing to change the way your expression currently rests. He can read you, he’s starting to know what you feel with a simple look in your eyes because of how much time you spent in the silence of each other's company, but he has yet to learn this.

“Okay,” you hesitantly give in just because of the intimacy of the moment. “But if you laugh I will stop sharing.”

“Pft,” she blows you off as if she doesn’t have the tendency to do that shit.

“Well,” you start off timidly. “I…want to have more kids.” You begin to smile at the possibility of your future. “I had fun growing up with my brother. I want Satori to have that too. I don’t want her to grow up alone.”

You take a peek at the pair beside you and see Choso clutching onto his drink with his jaw clenched and his eyes spaced out in his drink. While Yuki tries to fight off something snarky to say.

And her stifled reactions does make you want to stop right there, but you decide not to be so petty and continue. “I also enjoyed carrying her, and I just love watching her grow up. I loved the baby stage too, so I want to go through that again.”

“And who will be the father of these babies?” Yuki can’t hold back. It was killing her. “Are you turkey basting? Or,” she rolls out teasingly and shifts her eyes to point them at the man beside her, but you snap Choso out of his stupor by slapping your cup on the table and then blurting.

“Actually I was thinking of asking your dad, Yuki,” you quip sassily, making her scowl—“don’t you want siblings?”

“Funny, I hate your jokes,” she grumbles and takes a drink from her alcoholic beverage.

You snicker and drop your gaze on Choso as you were on your way to refocus on your drink, and actually notice that his eyes are filled with what you read as slight nervousness.

What about though you wonder but don’t ask. You just take a drink yourself before you share one more desire. “I've also been thinking of establishing an orphanage in the community,” you whisper. “I want to help sorcerer children just like…the twins. Sorcerer children abandoned by their families or mistreated by non-humans.”

Tears threaten to fall, but you don’t let yourself cry, you smile with hope instead, gaining a first response from Choso.

“That’s nice, y/n.”

“Hm. Now,” you swiftly drive the focus to him considering he’s the only one who needs to answer. “You. What do you want? And yes I know you're unsure about your future, but amuse us for tonight.”

Choso holds your gaze for a moment before that faint smile slowly falls and he worries you with a growing depressed look he aims ahead of him.

“I have a question actually,” he interjects with sorrow laced in his nonchalant tone. “Is that okay?”

Yuki and you share a concerned look before she assures him. “Of course.”

Choso picks up his drink but he doesn’t take a sip, he just holds his cup and goes ahead with his question. “Am I…”human”?”

You blink repeatedly with surprise and share one more quick concerned look with Yuki before you can’t help but look at Choso with pity.

“When my little brothers incarnated I realized their abnormal bodies meant “humans” would never accept them. That’s why I decided we should live as “curses.” That’s why I killed people in Shibuya, I killed a lot of people. And it wasn’t just people I killed. The one who killed Eso and Kechizu was me.” He shares a guilt-filled thought that had been running through his head ever since Shibuya, and your heart aches for him at the sound of his anguish.

His guilt and concerns have been touched upon since you’ve helped him ease some of them, but it wasn’t enough to completely satisfy him. After all, you know more than most that guilt and insecurity grown from issues like that are far too deeply rooted, it takes time to really get rid of them. All you want now is for him to see what you do…

“If I’d chosen to live as a “human” back then. My brothers wouldn't have had to kill each other,” he continues with his voice beginning to grow shaky. “Why…why then…why did I—Why did I choose the easy way out?” He can’t help but cry.

“Choso,” you whisper with sorrow and pity.

“I didn’t want to see…I didn’t want to see them in pain from living as “humans”.” He adds tearfully. “Even though they weren’t weak. You can guess what happened next. And like some divine punishment, Yuji appeared. Yuji, who is in pain from living as a “human”. I’m sure our fate was for the four of us to fight together. But,” he sniffles. “Just because I wanted an easier life, Yuji was left alone.”

“If you die,” Yuki shares seriously. “He’ll be alone again.”

She put it in a kinder and quieter way, but it’s similar to what you told him too. And you know it won’t help right away, but you hope it eases some of that anguish he feels. After all, she has a way to assure people with her advice. At least you feel it that way.

“You’re kind, Tsukumo,” Choso mutters as he wipes the tears off his cheeks. “But I can’t,” he keeps insisting, tearing at your heart. “I killed a lot of people for no reason. I no longer have the right to live alongside Yuji…or my friend,” he finishes in a whisper and looks at you as he utters those last words.

Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t mask your disbelief.

“Choso,” you whisper and he looks away out of shame.

You could bring up your previous argument, and the fact that he said he’d try, but he’s still too tangled in his guilt and his grief, he still doesn’t think he has the right to live, so your argument won’t work this time. No matter how much you want to fight him. So you try a different approach filled with just as much desperation. “Can I give my opinion?”

“Please,” Choso sniffles and follows by wiping away more tears, making you hand him a napkin from the counter.

“Thanks.”

“I think that you chose the easy way out because that’s the only way you thought you could protect your brothers,” you begin to say and just occasionally glance away, but you don’t keep your gaze away for long so he knows you’re being serious.

“You decided to help Yuji and dedicated yourself to him after you barely found him, and after you discovered your father lied on top of that. You stayed here to fight your dad out of revenge. And Choso,” you say sweetly and lean closer to him to take his hand in yours, making his eyes snap to your gentle touch before he glances back at you as you continue just as sweetly and desperately.

“All that makes you human. I mean,” you laugh softly. “You’re here sharing with guilt hanging off each word and tears in your eyes. You’re showing emotion. That makes you human. You’re so beautifully human.”

More tears crawl down his already tear-stained cheeks and he’s left with nothing to say in return. He could give you his gratitude or say how sweet you’re being, but he’s already told you that and he doesn’t want to sound like some broken record and exhaust you, (even if you’d never grow tired of hearing it), so instead he refuses to let your hand go and squeezes back.

You offer him a gentle smile before you surprise him by resting your head on his shoulder and using your other hand to caress his arm.

You’ve never done that before, it catches him off guard, but he immediately feels comforted by it and you, so he sits incredibly still so as to not make you move. He does feel bad though that he killed the atmosphere, neither you nor Yuki talk after. He waits and hopes it’ll change, but the bar stays quiet, so he parts his lips to apologize but suddenly you leave his hand alone as you sit up.

“Come,” you direct at him. “Dance with me.”

You grab him by his wrist and tug him, but he resists. “I'm not good.”

You scoff and wave him off. “I’ll lead, come dance with me at least one song, please.” You bat your lashes and he doesn’t really protest any longer, he lets you pull him to the empty space in front of the stage before you break away and pick, “There is Something on Your Mind by Big Jay McNeely,” from the Jukebox.

“Now,” you add excitedly and grab his hands to put them on your hips, causing him to immediately stiffen. “It’s okay,” you let him know and rest your hands around his neck. “Now we dance.”

You sway to the music and to avoid stepping on you he watches the way you move your feet.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him and tilt your head to meet his gaze. “Just relax.”

Choso hesitates before he lets himself focus on your face and the pretty smile you hold.

“Besides our previous conversation, have you enjoyed this atmosphere?” You ask him.

“Well,” he says with a sigh. “It’s just the four of us so I can say I do, but it’s different out there.”

You shrug. “Depends where you go. If you want to go somewhere with loud music and dim lights then a club is for you. I got to tell you though I am old now, I cannot party like that anymore.” You laugh and he shakes his head before he retorts.

“You’re not old. Try being 150.”

You chuckle, making his lips twitch to a smile.

“I don’t think I’ll make it that far,” you say. “But you know what? You’re that old so maybe like an old home is for you. You can play tabletop games and…I don’t know…what do old people do? Tell me.”

“We play tabletop games,” he points out nonchalantly.

You try to come up with a defense but he’s beyond right. Actually, you haven’t even finished a match you started at lunch.

“And I proved my point, I’m old,” you counter playfully.

Choso rolls his eyes and shakes his head, while you begin to grin.

“You’re a natural,” you point out and pass a playful pointed look. “You lied. Who taught you to dance? Tengen?”

Choso chuckles softly. “No,” he corrects you. “When Mahito gave me my body I knew things that I never learned or lived through. It’s weird but it helps being caught up and not being so clueless.”

“Ah, so he taught you to dance?” You joke, making him complain.

“Tsk.”

You show off a cheeky smile, and he hides his growing smile by tilting his head down, bringing forth a comfortable silence as he steals time to breathe in the hypnotizing scent of your perfume and appreciate the comfort that he can have you close to keep you protected. While you take your time to press yourself closer to him to embrace him as you continue to dance and take advantage of the fact that you can be close without needing to fight yourself.

It makes you wish for an infinite amount of moments like this one with him, but you knew the reasons why you couldn’t, they flashed in your head like a red alarm light. So you have nothing else left to do but just really memorize this moment and save it for times when you can’t handle what life has to offer you.

“I have a joke for you,” Choso slowly brings up timidly.

You pull back and smile. “Okay, I want to hear it. I do love jokes, you know that.”

Choso swallows thickly and manages to meet your gaze to share the joke he made Itadori tell him so he could tell you.

“Uh, what did the triangle say to the circle?”

You knew this joke, it was kind of a basic one, but you let him believe otherwise so he can tell it.

“Uh,” he grows quieter and hesitant, even more so when he sees the way you look at him with a soft waitful gaze. “You’re pointless.”

A wobbly smile tugs on your lips before you burst out laughing and lean your forehead on his shoulder.

He didn’t think you’d find it amusing, he thought you’d find it a bit lame so he’s been hesitant to share it, and even now he was nervous as he waited for your reaction, but he’s relieved to hear you laugh. He can't help but laugh softly with you. But he mostly just watches you with a proud smile.

“That,” you say between laughs. “Was good. That was very good.” You face him with a smirk. “Where’d you hear it from?”

He releases his stress with a small breath and responds, “I asked Yuji, he struggled but he looked it up on his mobile—phone.”

Your smile grows timid and the fact that he searched for a joke to tell you makes your face grow hot.

“Did you like it?” He makes sure to ask.

“I loved it,” you quickly assure him and realize that the song comes to an end, bringing you both to a stop. “Now should we have another round?”

He puts his hand up and shakes his head eagerly. “No, no, thank you.”

“Let’s do it! I'm dying over here!” Yuki exclaims, making you run over to be at her side now and do what you suggested without Choso this time. But it’s not like it really matters because he does join in your conversations and tries to participate in the games Yuki and you know.

Now there aren't a lot of you, but you do have fun and enjoy each other's company. For that moment you all forget what you’re there to do, you’re just a couple of friends having fun. That fact wraps you up until you’re alone outside trying to get ahold of your daughter before you go to bed since it should be morning over there.

Nevertheless, it goes straight to voicemail every single time, and that’s weird because she never misses a call. And if for some reason she can’t answer, Belinda does, this time neither of them answer.

You try to wait a few minutes because maybe they got caught up doing something, but when the moment passes no call comes through. You just get a single text from Belinda.

Belinda: Sorry the phone isn’t working, I can only text from the tablet. Satori is okay.

You reread the message and wonder why she didn’t let you know before since she called you just fine before they went to bed.

Then again maybe it just happened, so you calm yourself down and respond.

You: Oh, okay. Well, maybe she can send voice messages or videos?

Only a few seconds pass before you get a quick and short response.

Belinda: Yeah I'll tell her, let’s see if she wants to.

Sometimes Satori does march at the beat of her own drum, but you doubt she’d deny trying to talk to you.

Unless she's mad that you’ve been apart for so long? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to you…but Belinda would’ve spilled that information if that’s what was going on, all she’s sent is quite dismissive texts.

You: Is she upset? Is that what’s wrong?

You have to ask her out of worry.

But Belinda quickly contradicts you.

Belinda: No, she’s in a good mood. Don’t worry. I’ll tell her to send something later.

You sigh deeply and have no choice but to be okay with it. You can’t do anything from thousands of miles away.

You: All right. Tell her I love her. I’ll call in the morning. I love you guys xoxo

You wait on your phone for a response but all you see is the little ‘seen’ sign. Which…shouldn’t worry you. This dismissive behavior shouldn’t worry you. It’s nothing, you’re just obviously growing anxious. That’s all.

“Y/N?” You hear your name coming from Choso’s mouth, so you peer back and smile as you watch him approach your side.

“Choso,” you greet him as if you didn’t just see each other.

“Did you get a hold of her already?” He asks.

You look back ahead and sigh out of distress. “She couldn't talk. The phone isn’t working, so no.”

You wait for him to sit at your side before you have to voice your concern. “Do you think I’m overthinking this? The phone doesn’t work and all I got was dismissive texts and the excuse that she’ll try and have her send something later. Should I be worried?”

Choso sighs deeply and follows your line of gaze to the beautiful full moon to share his genuine answer. “I’m not a parent, I—”

“But you are a brother,” you cut him off to press him to give you some comfort or feed into your worry. “If Itadori was the way I just explained, would you worry?”

Choso blinks and meets your red-orange eyes filled with worry and tries his best to answer. “Yes. But you trust the woman taking care of your daughter, right?”

You nod with no hesitation.

“Then I think you shouldn't worry,” he says. “Your daughter is probably okay.”

Probably isn’t what you seeked for, but he’s right. You trust Belinda more than anyone in this world, she’d never hide crucial information regarding your daughter. Her phone just doesn't work, that's all…

“I think I’m just stressed,” you laugh nervously and want to rub your face, but you remember you have makeup on

so you just throw yourself back and admire the dancing stars overhead. “Why are you out here?” You finally ask Choso what you were curious about. “I thought you went to bed?”

“I…was, but I wanted to check on you,” he shares hesitantly as if almost afraid that you were going to be upset that he couldn’t seem to leave you alone, but instead you smile and contradict his worry.

“Good I'm glad you did. I really hate being alone,” you reveal as if it isn’t a big deal when it is to you.

Choso can’t depict between touching on it or not as you just mention it so nonchalantly though. You don’t look upset, but you would comfort him, you’d know what’s upsetting him, and he wants to be that way too. He wants to comfort you too, not knowing that his presence is enough to satisfy you.

Albeit before he can attempt to touch on the matter, you sit up and interject. “You never answered my question at the bar, Cho. What do you want out of life? I mean.” You roll your eyes. “Hypothetically if you make it out of the fight. What do you want?”

He avoided answering this question before because there were other people in the room and his response was something meant just for your ears, but he’s here with you now, and the moon. He could tell you his deepest desire and share the realization that he had the other day when you fought for him to live.

You looking at him with your pretty eyes glimmering with the moonlight's reflection makes it hard for him to form words in his mind, but what he needed to tell you was already engraved deep inside his heart and just waiting to be shouted out.

“Do you want,” you break the silence to try and help him. “A farm with sheep? They're quiet. Or a rice farm? A cabin in the woods? Do you want to leave the country with your brothers? Or have a playboy lifestyle?” You wiggle your eyebrows and laugh softly.

A smile tugs on his lips in response, but it slowly falls as he parts his lips and looks at you with a soft and tender look of admiration and…love.

“You,” he blurts, making you slowly fill with confusion. “I want to live a life with my brothers,” he continues and dares himself to scoot closer to you. “I want to see them be happy and live a peaceful life, but every time I dream of that future I see you there too…”

Oh no…

“…you’re precious to me y/n,” he continues, and you can’t hold your smile or reflect that glimmer in your eyes anymore. He doesn’t notice that yet though as he goes on saying such sweet words. “You’ve been special to me since the first time I saw you last year. You’re all I could think about in that darkness. And I still may be clueless about a lot of stuff, but I do know that I want to keep what's precious to me close to my heart. And that’s my brothers and you. And your daughter of course.”

No, no, no…damn it.

He included her too. He doesn’t leave her out. He thinks about the most important person to you too.

But why does he have to say it all?! His confession and his desire?

Why did he have to say this? Why?!

Damn…

“That’s what I desire,” he fails to notice your distress. “You.”

Tears fill your eyes and a pitiful smile appears on your contorting face. “Oh, Choso,” you coo. “You’re so sweet…”

He smiles as he doesn’t see that you’re about to break his heart and add a tension to the comfortable relationship you had.

“But…I’m not the person you think I am,” you try to go easy on him and actually explain your reasoning. “I’m not a good person. I’ve done bad things. Horrible things that are far from redeemable, and you,” your voice quivers. “You’re precious. Your heart is pure and beautiful, even after the things you’ve done.”

Choso didn’t understand you at first, but he’s starting to know now so the soft light in his eyes flickers and the tenderness grows hard as he’s slowly falling in disbelief.

“And I don’t deserve that,” your voice breaks. “And you don’t deserve to share your life with such a monster. You deserve someone pure…good. Like you.”

Choso’s eyebrows pinch together and he wants to counter by sharing his disbelief grown by the way you’re talking about yourself. Partially because you’re rejecting him, but it’s mostly because he doesn’t see you the way you see yourself.

However, you grab his hands and cup them in between yours to continue adding arguments. “Even if I did let my heart have what it wants, what would I do when you sacrifice yourself? Because that’s your plan,” you remind him of something that’s still tearing at your heart. “And I can’t go through that again. I lost the man I loved and it left me empty. I barely recovered, and if I go through it again with you, I don’t think I could pick myself up again. So it’s better this way. Me and you as we are.” You nod even if deep inside you don’t agree with a thing you said.

“But,” Choso mutters as he's grown upset now. Not sad—well he does feel sad that this didn’t go like he wanted, but he’s mostly upset that you’re selfish enough to disregard what he feels about this argument.

“What—”

“No,” you cut him off with a watery but pointed look. “Please don’t. I know what I am,” you say as if you had looked in his mind. “I know what I’ve done. I’m sorry. I really am. I hope we can remain friends because you’re precious to me too, Choso. I don’t want to spend whatever time we have left upset with each other.”

You offer him a wobbly smile and he leans in and says your name loudly and with frustration that catches you off guard. He’s never spoken to you this way before.

Albeit you do muster the strength to interrupt him

once again so this doesn’t escalate and your heart doesn’t end up winning and accepting his proposal. “Choso, don’t. I don’t regret what I did, I’m a bad person, and I don’t want to go through that agony again. it’s gonna be hard enough already, so please, please stop. Please, I beg of you.”

Choso inhales sharply and wants to just ignore you and give an argument to all you just said, but you’re asking so desperately and yet so sweetly. Plus you’re right. If he dies he doesn’t want you to suffer. He loves you. He doesn't want you to be in pain when he’s gone, so even if it pains him he doesn’t argue. He simply nods which makes you feel terrible, but you can’t stay here any longer after his confession, so you offer him a thankful smile before you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

You don’t move away right away, you stay with your cheek pressed against as you give your heart this one satisfaction of feeling the warmth of his cheek and memorizing the taste of his flesh on your wet lips. You draw in the scent of his musk infused with a soft cologne to have it dance in your nose to continue bringing you comfort until it’s gone and instead under lock and key in your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and tilt your head back slightly to keep close to him as your lips ache to taste his lips that shift closer to you as he moves his head to face you. “I really am.”

Choso watched your lips move, and couldn’t help but part his lips as he couldn't focus on anything else.

You try to pull away but you keep your mouth where it is since you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips. You just want to lean in so badly, they’re screaming to be kissed. And what makes matters worse is that you actually let him give into his instinct to lean closer, leaving just a hairsbreadth of space between his lips and yours.

But…

But! You can’t kiss him no matter how much you both desire it, because if you do you'll lose your fight and your argument will be null. Plus, you can’t risk hurting if he dies, so you pull back and just throw him a brief goodnight before you storm to your room and fall on your bed to think about what just happened.

You shouldn’t though, you know that. You need to focus on what’s to come and forget what just occurred to make it easier on you.

Albeit your mind actually fights you now and sides with your heart. But you push, and push Choso away and win back your mind's support and shove away what just happened and the emotions he stirs up back in a vault. Instead, you force all your focus back on Kenjaku and the threat that he is.

You can’t think about Choso anymore. You need to forget what you feel. You can’t give in to your heart's desire. You can’t and you won’t…

——

Kenjaku came unexpectedly a couple of days later as it was expected right at 12 am. It means that the inevitable you’ve been training a week for is about to happen and you’re tempted to say something stupid to Choso as he goes on his way to meet his father. After all, you could lose him forever.

It's true that he's only been in your life for 16 days—it’s felt like it���s been years really, but it’s only been a couple of weeks and a few days, and you could lose him forever after tonight. So you want to just be stupid and confess what you’ve kept guarded in hopes that that will encourage him to fight to live.

But you can’t. Not even now. So all you muster is another excuse in hopes that will encourage him. “Yuji is out there, he needs his brother. So just try.”

Choso comes to a brief stop before you and meets your gaze with soft reassurance. He’s not petty or mad over your rejection—actually, he never showed any sign of being upset at you after that night, you made it awkward most of the time, but he was never rude.

He was kind and nonchalant, like now.

“I will try.”

You nervously hold your hands together and don’t avoid holding his gaze right now. Not like you’ve been doing for the past couple of days, you look deep into his rich brown eyes that look as if they were always touched by the sun, and can't hide the worry from your eyes. Yet you can’t express it.

You part your lips and he stands there. Not to wait, he stands there to let his mind engrave every inch of you to keep an image of you close to his heart just in case he does meet his fate. When he’s sure every aspect of you is recorded he moves on past you.

Now you should go ahead and meet up with Tengen and Yuki while you wait your turn, but you stay frozen to your spot watching the empty space Choso left behind as you try to avoid looking back. Because if you do you’ll only hurt more, it’ll be like giving in to what you feel. And it’s true that you’ll watch him as he confronts his father, Tengen can display that for Yuki and you so you can know what Kenjaku is countering with and plan around that, but it’s not the same. He won’t be in the same room, his presence won’t be in the same room, and you’ll just be stressing out. So you give in and look back.

And without knowing Choso peers back and you meet each other's gaze.

“Be careful,” you interject without overthinking your response.

Choso nods. “I’ll try. And if I don’t make it out of here can you take my brothers with you?” He entrusts in you.

You turn around completely and assure him without a moment of hesitation. “Of course I will.”

Choso lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he turns away and finally disappears to face his father, leaving you stranded there alone riddled with nauseating worry. You only move away from that spot because you need to know what’s going on to not be eaten alive by your nerves, otherwise, you probably would have stayed there waiting for you to go next.

However, perhaps it was a mistake joining the other two because you walk into Yuki changing into her battle clothes that…look the exact same as the normal clothes she was just wearing.

“Is there a difference?” You remark while she quickly slides on her shirt.

“Yes!” She exclaims. “This one has the Jujutsu High medallion here.”

You fold your arms over your chest and quirk a brow as you pass her a judgmental look. “Why would you wear that?”

She finally gets her hands through her sleeves and pierces her big brown eyes in you. “Don’t you?” She queries.

“Pft,” you blow out and laugh. “No, I threw that away the day I defected. And you’ll never catch me wearing it again.”

“Hmph well there is a difference, this is the difference.”

You sigh and turn away from her to look at a blank wall. “Show it,” you demand from Tengen. “Please.”

“Very well,” he gives in. “But nothing is happening as of yet.”

Regardless, a screen appears on the wall and you can’t help but smile softly when Choso comes on looking completely irritated with his father, who actually startles you. Not because he’s menacing but because he is in your husband's body, and for a second in time you forget and think it’s him. Just for a second because you then realize and feel nothing but hatred and disgust.

“Where’s Tengen?” You hear Kenjaku ask while he glances around the arena.

Choso’s lips slowly tug to a smirk before he scoffs and quips. “That talking thumb doesn’t want to see you.”

“Who’s a thumb?” Tengen mutters under their breath very human-like.

“Guess you’re not well-liked,” Choso adds, making your lips flicker on an amused smile before your worry reigns over again.

“Then I suppose you’re disposable fodder,” Kenjaku counters. “Please do try your best.”

There’s a bit of amusement behind those words and it does nothing to assure your worry over Choso’s fate. Kenjaku just plans to play with him.

“He’ll live. He’s half a curse, he’s resilient,” Yuki tries to ease your worries.

You reach back to scratch the chin of the worm-cursed spirit draped around your shoulders and mutter out, “I hope you’re right.”

“The culling game has already served its purpose, the preparations for the merger of all non-sorcerers in Japan have ended.”

No way…you just talked to Hakari and Kirara the other day, they were doing well. Hakari had fought some old sorcerer brought back to life and kind of won. They were both too excited to tell you to explain anything clearly. You do know that Hakari learned to use RCT though! It was because he got gravely injured, but he learned and you couldn’t be prouder!

So they have to be okay. They all have to be okay. You need to believe that right now.

“Either way, if I seize Tengen here, then it’s your loss, the country will meet its end. The whole world will.” Kenjaku shares, for what reason? To throw you all off a bit? Perhaps. Or just to hear his own voice.

“Let me show you one possible conclusion to this affair.”

Oh gosh, now why does he need to waste time doing that? If it’s happening or not, why does it matter at this instant? Does he really love the sound of his voice that much? Why can’t he just fight to get this all over with?

“You’ve known Kenjaku for a long time, right Tengen? Has he always been so self-obsessed?” You break the intense silence while Kenjaku changes the arena he and Choso are in into a theater room.

“Yes,” they take no time to think it back. “Always. It’s why he’s here so many years later.”

You roll your eyes and pull a chair to rest on while you can as you continue to watch over them.

“In Shibuya, Yuki Tsukumo explained that merging with Tengen, which I’d prefer to call optimizing cursed energy, means becoming a sorcerer….”

“Yawn!” Yuki exclaims.

You snicker. “You said it.”

Please! He just keeps yapping about things he’s already mentioned before, just in a more exhausting way. You don’t know how Choso can sit there listening to him just blabber on and on.

However, as you watch him though, you see him look rightfully annoyed and bothered, but you don’t know how he can just listen. You don’t, you just tune Kenjaku out until you finally pick up on something interesting.

“…The way she thinks is close to my own.”

You snicker and Yuki groans in disgust.

“Anyways I’ve gotten off topic,” Kenjaku finally realizes, letting you finally sit up once again to keep listening. “From the beginning, I even considered the potential of cursed spirits as an option alongside sorcerers. Perhaps a new form of cursed energy could be born from advancing cursed spirits to a higher level. Because of that, I had high hopes for half-breeds between cursed spirits and humans like you. What a disappointment, you were all too ordinary,” he says without shame and it ticks you off.

How could he say that as a parent? In front of his own son too?

You know hateful parents like him exist everywhere but it always surprises you to see it firsthand. Especially because Choso is your friend, and you know how feels about how his father treated him and his brothers.

“If you talk about my little brothers again. I’ll kill you without waiting for the sideshow to end,” Choso spats in defense of his brothers, making you smirk proudly.

“Fine, fine,” Kenjaku sighs and sits up to finally get to the point. “After evolving, Tengen will be more like a cursed spirit than human. So if all the non-sorcerers in Japan merge with Tengen, I think it’ll become a cursed spirit bearing the cursed energy of a hundred million people. Maybe it’ll be like Uzumaki and capable of extracting something too,” he says thoughtfully and with a hint of fascination of what can be a possibility.

A possibility that plays out on the screen of the theater room like a terrifying apocalypse film—flashing scenes of people all around Japan getting their bodies mangled shows and terrifying never never-before-seen curses pop up like a jumpscare.

“I wonder what it will look like…” Kenjaku muses and you furrow your eyebrows and look at the screen in slight fear of what can be a possibility, and irritation mostly. You still don’t care about non-sorcerers, your hatred has dwindled, but you still don’t care for them. Yet what he wants will end the world as you know it. You can’t stand behind that, and the fact that he says it all so casually pisses you off.

“Right now, I feel like a kid…holding a crayon in front of a blank piece of paper,” he finishes and the screen goes black as the lights all go off in the theater before the walls and everything around them transform back to the arena with the single tree in it.

“What exactly do you want?” Choso sneers with heightened anger now, but Kenjaku doesn’t see that, or care for it, he looks back at him annoyed.

“Did you not just understand anything I just said?” He spats.

“No,” Choso argues between gritted teeth. “I’m asking you. What do you get from this?! What is it that motivates you?!” He raises his voice.

Kenjaku’s annoyance falls and he looks at Choso almost with a smile on his face.

“I’m fascinated,” he reveals, raising your own irritation to full-blown anger.

“I just think it’ll be fascinating,” Kenjaku continues. “But I won’t know for sure until it happens.”

So this is all a gamble for him?

He’s so sick.

“On top of that, if the accumulated cursed energy of a hundred million people is just a laughable clown face, then what would you do?” He says nonchalantly as if what he’s saying isn’t all messed up. “I know I’d laugh.”

He actually laughs. That bastard laughs like it's all a joke, but that’s what finally triggers Choso to start the fight by clapping his hands together out in front of him with his face completely contorted to raging anger.

“Wait, wait,” Kenjaku interjects and puts his finger out. “Before you do that.” He laughs again. “I have something I want to show you all. I know the others are here too. Somewhere. So I want to show you something.”

Choso doesn’t drop his guard, he keeps his hands out and stays ready to shoot his piercing blood.

“This is mainly a little something for y/n,” Kenjaku says making you stand up from your seat to narrow your glare on the screen.

“Are you ready?” He asks, and Suguru’s four-winged pelican cursed spirit breaks through the barrier and enters the arena, meaning what?

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Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest

[bunchofdoodlesinspace]

Im kinda shocked I’m not seeing more about the parallels between what Laudna did and what Ashton did last night bc currently that’s what I can’t stop thinking about. This theme of self-sacrifice that just keeps coming back over and over. And it makes so, so much sense to me given who this party is made out of.

Ages ago they really fully grasped that they’re all just powder kegs waiting to blow, that at any moment any of them could cause serious harm to the others, whether it be because of the powers they wield of the unfortunate circumstances of their existence- They’re all dangers to each other in some way.

And now, we’re seeing that theme sort of twist into this concept of “fuck it. I have this power, and I could destroy the world and my friends and myself using it, but I might as well try to use it for something good on the way down” and there’s just. There’s something so tragic and beautiful about that. To finally have people you care about so much that you would destroy yourself to see them survive.

In my head, that’s why Laudna is accepting the help of her own murderer. It’s not to walk down this path of darkness, but to give herself the strength she feels she needs to take down the threats in front of them. If that comes at the cost of her sanity, her relationships with the others, her life? So be it. She’s died before, and she’ll do it again if everyone she loves, who have loved her in spite of everything (esp Imogen), can survive and live happy lives.

Same thing with Ashton. No, two shards were not meant be handled by one person. But Fearne didn’t seem to want it, no one else was going to take it, and but they still need the power. Because what they’re facing isn’t anything like anyone has ever seen, they need everything they can possibly get. And if the risk of taking on that power was his own life? Fine. He’s died before too. And for the rest of his friends? The people who have loved him despite everything? For Fearne? He’d do it. Even if it was just to give them a chance.

These aren’t selfish decisions made to try and gain power. This is selflessness to the most dangerous degree. It’s a demonstration of how much they love and how little love they think they deserve in return. It’s a recognition of how big this threat is, how desperate they are for a chance to succeed even if it means they won’t all come back.

I said it in the tags of another post I reblogged and I will say it over and over again.

This shit doesn’t come out of a place of hate.

It only ever comes out of a place of love.

And it is absolutely heartbreaking.

[thortwenty151]

Okay you know what? I don’t want this to get lost in tags. Basically, Thor is allowed to have feelings and be messy and imperfect all on his own without it having much if anything to do directly with Loki. Or even indirectly. A huge amount of Thor’s character arc has to do with his relationship to Odin, and his relationship with who he himself is outside of being who he was brought up to believe he was meant to be.

Like he should not have been 1500 years old the first time his mother tells him he can be himself. And see, the trade off of this is that Thor has almost no self-worth nor self-actualization outside of who he thought he was supposed to be. And when the person he was supposed to be fucks up so badly (in his mind), that half the universe disappears…

Well, who is he after that? What purpose does he have? He can’t be the king he was expected to be, because that person doesn’t actually exist.

And because he can’t be that version of himself because of his trauma and grief and guilt, he doesn’t know who he is at all. And so the traumatized, grieving version of himself, the one that can’t get off the couch and has completely, as Chris Hemsworth said, “checked out” isn’t the king he was expected to be, so why bother even trying? He needed some time to not have to try. Valkyrie gets it, she was right in the same place, so she picks up the slack for him, which makes it that much easier to check out more and more. By the time Rocket and Bruce show up, he’s basically decided that this new version of himself is happy, while he’s right on the verge of a breakdown pretty much at all times.

He’s been taught his whole life not to show his people his feelings. His dad’s advice to him about having feelings was basically, go drink, and put on a goddamn happy face because a future king needs to keep his weird gross sadness to himself.

So Thor does exactly that: his feelings are too overwhelming to translate into productive anger (how he usually copes), so it turns inward. And that’s not good because he’s been told not to show his feelings so many times. It’s ingrained. So he drinks and he pretends to be happy, but it doesn’t mean he’s got any sort of sense of identity.

He leaves with the Guardians to try a different version of himself, to middling success in terms of helping him form his own identity, one that had started to heal from all the horrible things that have happened in a time period that, to him, is like a long weekend.

It’s a journey he’s still on, and ultimately it only peripherally has much to do with Loki.

[whirlwindimagines]

Can you do a vash x reader where the reader is getting overestimed and vash helps them calm down and comforts them?

Me running to write this after my therapy session, In all seriousness lol I did make this being about overstimulated, kinda then it got a little more. I've taken from my own thoughts and feelings for this one, since when I get overstimulated it can spiral out of control for me. No, I didn't just write this about Vash comforting ME shut up. Also, I wrote this a little differently, I wrote this how I feel a panic attack feels. So it may feel a little wild and disjointed, so stick with me <3

‘They see right through, Can you see right through me? I see right through me’

Vash x Reader

You should be celebrating, everyone else was. Why was this so hard, why were you so difficult, why are you so broken? Your mind can’t help but supply that thought to you, and it makes your chest burn it burns hard enough that you can’t even breathe, have you ever been able to breathe? 

It was all too much, sitting here in some dark forgotten corner while everyone celebrated around you. Having fun, existing without a problem. Your rag-tag group of friends managed to save this no-name town from bandits, and well instead of being chased from a town like usual, they were drinking and celebrating in your honor. It was a good change of pace for everyone, they deserved this. Did you? Did you deserve any of this, your friends?

Glancing up briefly, you spot Meryl trying and failing to rein in Wolfwood, Roberto at the bar drinking happily, and Vash…. actually, you don't see Vash at all. For a brief moment, all your own worries and fears are forgotten, you hoped he wasn't getting into trouble…. he had an incredible knack for it. You don't think you’ve met anyone with such bad luck. 

But then you spot him, shyly accepting praise from those around him, a smile that you can tell isn't fake. And for another moment you find peace in that, if anyone deserves to celebrate its him. You let your senses focus on Vash, just being in his presence was enough for you. Maybe you should get up and join them, you decide to, even going as far as to stand from your seat.

And then that familiar feeling, the doubt, the worry, the fear, it's all too much. It's always too fucking much. The lights, the sounds, the people. It's like you can never be. Never exist in the moment, and every fleeting moment of happiness is ruined by the fact. It's too much and you're too little. You can't be here anymore; without a second thought you turn and leave. 

The fresh air is like a Godsend, keep moving, just go, leave it behind. And you do because isn't that the easiest thing you can do for yourself? Gracefully exit the scene, no big productions, a forgotten side character in somebody else's story, because how could the story ever be yours? Your mind is working a mile a minute, it's doesn’t even make sense. You keep walking until you reach the center of town, a lovely fountain sits in the center, it's painfully quiet, and just what you need. 

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, leaning forward to grip your head. Begging for it to stop, for just a moment. Why can’t you enjoy anything? This is ridiculous and pathetic, five….no ten minutes tops and then you’ll force yourself to go back. You just need to breathe. This was fine, you’ll be fine. 

However, the gentle hand on top of your head startles you, sitting up quickly your gaze quickly connects to Vash’s concerned one. Oh, that’s all you can come up with, because why is he here? Shouldn't Vash be with the others, having fun with people who can understand how to? “Are you okay?” Why does he have to speak to you in that gentle way? Why does he always just know? For a second and because you're a fucking idiot, you're angry. Standing quickly Vash removes his hand to stare at you with a question in his eyes, as his arm falls to his side. 

“I’m fine.” Your tone is cold, and straight to the point, his expression shifts, and it's just not fair how can someone possibly look at you like that? Like you hung the stars and the moon? Like your someone to be seen and looked at. “You’re a bad liar did you know that?” his tone is as always kind, but you can sense a hint of something more a plea to be honest with him. 

You are like a wild animal cornered; this is not why you ran out here. You don't want to talk, what was the point? Talking didn't fix what was broken inside of you, nothing could fix that. The sound of your name makes you look up, and you tense. Vash stood closer in front of you, not touching you, but if he reached out his hand he could. It was more the look in his eyes that made you freeze, he looked… tired? No, sad? That wasn't the word for it either… was it longing? 

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

Is that what you do? Pretend to be a person, pretend that you can make it through the day, pretend that your mind isn't a jumbled mess of too much and too little, and pretend that you're happy. Yeah, you guess he's right. The anger leaves you at once, shoulders dropping. “I don't know what to say.” and isn't that the truth, wouldn’t it be easier if you just could figure it out if you just knew? 

Vash’s face lights up, not because you are upset, but because it's the first honest answer he has gotten out of you in weeks. Nervously as if reaching for a wild animal, he reaches a hand out to you palm up. You stare at it, your eyes flickering from his hand to his bright blue eyes. “That’s okay! You don't have to say anything, not right now. Or ever even! I just want you to know…I care… and I get it.” he is rambling in that nervous way he does, his voice cracking a bit at the end you can see the embarrassed blush that sits on his cheeks. 

It makes your eyes soften and smile, his hand touches your face then, holding your cheek, and your breath hitches. His thumb rubs the top of your cheek, right under your eye. He’s smiling now too, and oh no, you think you have a new problem now… but one you don't mind facing. Well, you do mind, it's a little scary, but it makes your heart race in a nice fluttery way not the burn you're used to. “It's…hard to explain, I just… everything feels like too much?” You can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry, that makes no sense.” You say this with a small laugh. 

Your gaze drifts back to his when his other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, the feeling between his mechanical hand and his flesh hand is… nice. “No, it makes sense, you’re doing great.” The praise makes you blush, yeah this is going to be a big problem, future you are going to have to deal with that one. “Vash, thank you.” it's such a simple thing to say, but you hope he understands.

He does, how could he not? When it comes to you, he’ll do whatever it takes to understand, to just listen. You don’t need to talk or explain anything to him, he’s here and he’ll be here as long as you need it, which he hopes is a long time, because God does he need you.Reaching up with shy hands, you grip his wrists, for the first time all night your mind is settled and at peace. He can’t fix you, because rationally you are not broken. But he helps mend the wounds in your soul, in a way you’ve never felt before, you wish you could tell him just how much you appreciate it, his comfort, the endearing way he acts. You squeeze his wrists, giving him a smile. It feels like the start of something, but right now this moment is enough.