#someone wake his ass up before the dream escalates any further

[antlergrave]

uh oh

oh damn he was just dreaming

[221bshrlocked]

Deepest of Desires

Y’all I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself but here we go. I’ve already talked about what some of Pedro’s Characters’ kinks would be but I need to compile them in one place...don’t ask me why. All suggestions for any characters are welcomed, I will happily add to the filth on this list.

Warnings: NSFW under cut

Words: 6K+

The Mandalorian - Breeding Kink. Period.

You somehow don’t notice it at first. He’s always careful not to make a mess of you because he thinks you deserve to be worshiped and not taken like a common whore. But then it gradually escalates and you’re not sure what caused this new change but you don’t mind it. Little do you know, Din noticed the little bump in your arm one night when he was kissing every inch of your skin. And something switches inside him and he becomes more needy and desperate whenever he fucks you. The first time he comes in you, you think it’s because he may have been distracted so you don’t think too much about it. The second time, you blame it on the kid cooing from the other room just as Din comes. It’s the third time that gives you an inclination as to what Din has been doing because not only does he cum in you, but he continues to fuck you and moves his hands down to feel your combined juices soaking your skin and the sheets. You feel overwhelmed by how much it turns him on but say nothing, choosing to bring it up another time. When it finally rolls around, and you’re in the middle of the most passionate, sweaty, crazed sex ever, you pull him down and mouth at his jaw, begging him to cum in you. Din freezes for a moment and you hope you haven’t said the wrong thing. Before you think twice of it, he’s hooking one leg up against his shoulder and railing into you, whispering his need to fill you up with his cum over and over again until you’re leaking with it. You could barely manage to respond, moaning when he tells you how often he thinks about breeding you, how much he wishes he could fuck a baby in you, and how hard he gets when he pictures you nursing his kid while taking care of the little womp rat. And you all but lose it when he cums in you and continues to fuck you, not caring about the filthy squelching sounds emitting from where you’re joined as he ensures you reach your pleasure. As soon as he tells you how he wishes he could fuck your tits when they’re full of milk and suck on them until you’re oversensitive and you’re soaking him, you’re coming on his cock and are reduced to a mess as he pushes his cum deep into your aching cunt to ensure that not a single drop is wasted. And it’s not until later that he suggests you take the implant out so he could see your belly growing with his child.

Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels - Bondage, preferably with his lasso or whip.

Jack loves to play in the bedroom but he never brings it up with you, afraid that his tastes might be a little too much for someone as sweet and innocent as you. You’ve only known each other for a couple of months but he’s been smitten when you walked in and showed him who’s boss during one of the training sessions. And ever since then, he’s wanted nothing more than to tie you up to his bed and have his way with you all night long. But he’s reluctant because even if this dating thing is official, he’s still the senior agent and he should be taking care of you everywhere, including the bed. So mark him surprised when you literally crawl to him on your knees one day with his lasso hanging loosely around your neck and tell him to take you on the floor. Jack loses whatever self control he has left and instantly take hold of the lasso, pulling you towards the couch until you’re kneeling in between his spread thighs. He tightens it just a little as he nods to his belt, almost coming as soon as he feels your lips around his cock and your nails digging into his thighs. You beg him to take what he wants and he trusts that you’ll tell him to stop should you feel uncomfortable. And that’s how his little games with you start. You’re either following him around with the rope around your neck like a fucking collar or you’re bending over or getting on all fours as he expertly whips your backside without breaking skin. It makes him hard knowing how much you trust him and he finally has the courage to ask you if it was possible to tie you to his bed. You’re all giggles and smiles before you run up to his room and strip for him, barely letting a moment pass after he ties you before you’re begging him to fuck you dumb. He takes you in as many positions as possible all night long and you take everything he gives you like a little sweet girl. Whether your hands are tied or your legs are tied and spread out open for him, not a single complaint leaves your lips. And he keeps fucking you long after the two of you are sensitive because he can’t believe how lucky he got with you and how willing you are for him to take over.

Javier Peña - Degradation in the forms of Dirty Talk, Choking, and Spanking.

There is a lot of pent up frustration and aggression that Javi keeps bottled up throughout the day. And you realize this job is really getting to him when he stops visiting his friends after work. When you ask him why he doesn’t go to any of them anymore, his answer is surprising. It’s not because he doesn’t want to have sex anymore, no. It’s because he can’t get the same satisfaction out of a simple fuck. And when you press him further, he tells you that he would never want to mistreat one of them how he wants to because they’ve seen enough and they don’t deserve seeing this ugly side of him and they really don’t deserve getting called all sorts of names that fly through his lips in the moments of passion. So you strike a bargain with him. It’s much more difficult to convince him than you think it would be considering how much you know he enjoys this and you leave it on the table until one day, he knocks on your door and apologizes because he can’t take it anymore. There is an awkwardness to what the two of you do in the beginning and he does nothing of what you know he yearns to do. But slowly, his touches get rougher, his words get harsher, and before you know it, he’s no longer the private, somehow shy agent that you’ve worked with for a few years now. No. He’s a man who twists his hands into your hair and pulls you up to him when he needs to bite your neck. He slaps your ass until you’re a crying mess and then he calls you his ‘sweet fucking cockslut’ because you’re taking him so well. You occasionally find his hand around your throat as he rails into you against the wall or in the shower or even on the floor when he’s desperate, and you can tell that he enjoys this more than he’s letting on because the louder you whine for him, the harder his thrusts become and the tighter his grip around your neck is. He loves sees the bruises after and he especially enjoys it when you don’t bother to hide the handprints beneath a scarf. No, you wear it proudly so everyone knows not to fuck with you. And it takes you a while to notice that it’s the fastest way he could get you coming, something that he realizes much before you, hence the constant need to keep his fingers tight around your your lovely skin. But as rough as Javi gets, he also knows how to take care of you after. You smile when you hear gruff voice whispering how perfect you were for him and how he can’t believe you’re letting him do this and how lucky he is to have someone like you giving him this much pleasure and allowing him to use you as if you were nothing more than a harlot. He leaves you sore and bruised most of the time, and his words echo in your mind until you fall asleep and dream of him fucking you over and over again...

My cockslut...Little fucking whore...Letting me fuck you like a bitch in heat...This is my filthy cunt...You belong to me querida...Look how pathetic you are...You gone cockdumb now hermosa? I own you...My fuckdoll...My filthy girl...I’m gonna fill all your holes...Such a good girl for letting me fuck this ass...You’re mine my little whore...No one gets to fuck this except me...You’re nothing but a quick fuck that gets me off...So filthy...Worthless...Wet pussy...Scream my name...Or better yet, shut the fuck up so we don’t wake the neighbors...Fucking hell this cunt is so wet...knew it...Knew you were a whore.

Pero Tovar - Spitting Kink or anything with fluids really.

He’s still unsure of how he managed to have you lay in his arms night after night. He swears this is a dream because you’re an angel and he’s a monster. But you go to him night after night, begging him to have his way with you. Tovar loses his mind when you moan his name so innocently and he can’t bring himself to deny you anything when you’re asking him so sweetly and spread out for him. He does, however, grow quiet when he watches you one day as you get on your knees and suck on his cock until he cums down your throat. But that’s not what surprised him, no. It’s that you’re drooling and spitting and making a mess of yourself. And Tovar likes how you look when your chest is messy with your spit and his seed. This interest only gets worse when he fucks you so hard you squirt around him, and he wants to do that again. He wants to bring you this much pleasure again. So he fucks you hard and deep until you’re soaking the two of you and then he’s coming hard. And before he does anything, you’re leaning down and licking his cock, humming when you taste yourself on him. And that seems to be it for him because he grabs your chin and forces you to open your mouth, and before you can say anything, he’s spitting twice in on your tongue and shoving his fingers deep down your throat. He’s proud of your shocked expression and swears into the night when you get on all fours and start sucking him off again, this time knowing that he has his spit and yours on his cock. And that’s how it is for the two of you from now on. Him spitting down your throat to make sure your mouth is wet enough for his cock, or sometimes spitting on his hands and pushing them past your lips so he could keep you quiet. Occasionally, you’ll ask him to hand you a cup of water but instead, he drinks it and raises an eyebrow for you to open your mouth. You do so without hesitation every time and it almost always ends with the two of you fucking like animals on the floor or against the wall. And one hundred percent of the time, the two of you have to go wash because there is spit and cum and sweat and your juices drenching the two of you.

Oberyn Martell - Touch and anything that involves fruits and drinks.

It’s intimidating in the beginning. Actually, the act itself is not intimidating. He is intimidating. Prince Oberyn is anything but shy and it takes you a while to realize that you shouldn’t be shameful around him. As a matter of fact, you notice that he will reward you if you treat him as a lover and not as your Prince. He teases you the first few times, telling you that there was no way you were the same person he’s heard so many poems about. You grow bolder with him and beg him to lay down as you walk across the room and take hold of the basket of fruits. Oberyn raises an eyebrow at your actions but says nothing, spreading himself out and whispering a quick ‘careful’ when he sees you bring a knife out from between your thighs. He watches as you expertly cut the large orange, and hisses when you begin to squeeze it on his nipples, down his chest, and finally on his cock. The nectar is cold but his eyes never leave you as you lean down and lick him dry, his hands going instantly into your hair when you gag on his cock. He cums down your throat not too long after that and pulls you towards his lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning when he tastes himself and the orange juice. And it becomes a habit after that. Sometimes he’s drenching you with sour liquids and massaging them across your muscles and other times, you’re licking them off of his warrior body. It comes to a point where he no longer enjoys fucking you unless there’s some sticky juices slipping between the two of you. He doesn’t care what it is. All he cares for is touching every inch of your skin with whatever viscous material you chose this time and it’s his happy day when you bring in honey and drip it all over yourself and him. It’s the filthiest it’s ever gotten between the two of you and you notice how he can’t keep his hands to himself anymore. He’s torn between fucking you into the next kingdom and kissing and touching your sweet soft skin. But he’s an intelligent man and he finds a way to do all of that simultaneously, bringing you closer to your pleasure much faster than before. Who knew honey and fruits would make the Prince of Dorne this unhinged.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales - Mile High Club. Enough said.

It’s something the two of you have briefly discussed but never actually had a chance to act upon. But then Pope approaches the two of you for a job that doesn’t sound too exciting even though it pays well. As soon as he mentions how they need Frankie to fly them to the drop point though, you’re both nodding furiously and telling him that you’re in, smiling to each other when he tells you he’ll send you the details before leaving. You’re not sure how it will work but you agree that you’d figure it out once you’re in the plane. It’s not until you’re in the air that you realize how quiet you have to be, with the guys sitting outside and talking through the plan. You’re thankful that Frankie manages to convince them that he needs you to co-pilot the aircraft with him since it’s been a while. Once you’re up in the air and it’s safe to put the plane on ‘auto-pilot’ you’re moving across the small space and kissing down Frankie’s neck. He’s still looking ahead to ensure that nothing surprising happens but it’s getting more difficult to pay attention when all he wants to do is commit every little nip and kiss and lick to memory. You’re shoving your hands down his pants immediately, knowing that one of the guys could come in any moment and you smile when Frankie moans and swears beneath his breath. You don’t tease him, kneeling down between his thighs and taking him in your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He almost cums right then and there but tries his hardest to last a little longer, if only to enjoy this and feel the adrenaline kick in a little more. As soon as he looks down and watches spit corner at your lips, he’s groaning and moaning your name and you nip at the underside of his cock to shush him, telling him that you really didn’t want to give the other guys a show. He obeys your warning and tries to keep himself in check, torn between removing his hands from the controller to push you down on his cock further, and begging you to strip down and sit on his lap as he continues to pilot the plane. The former seems like a better option and he does tangle his fingers in your hair before pushing you down and savoring the sounds of your throat gagging on his cock. When he sees you touching yourself through your pants, he cums down your throat, so far down that you don’t even taste him when he finally pulls you off of him. You’re both panting and the windows have gotten a little fogged up and it smells like musk and sweat in here but you don’t find it in yourself to care as you stand up and wait for him to right himself before opening the door. You’re met with a couple of whistles and you can’t help but laugh at how flustered Frankie is when the guys continue to tease him. Oh well, it was worth it.

Comandante Veracruz - Exhibitionism.

It’s no secret that the Comandante loves to have his women screaming his name into the night. But when you’re assigned to him, he makes it his life’s mission to ensure that no man will come near you. He’s heard of how you like to play and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to start a little game with him. Not even a month in his camp and Veracruz has you writhing in his bed. He fucks you every chance he gets, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because he’s gotten bored with the other women. But he knows very well that it’s only because he’s gotten so fucking obsessed with you that he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t realize that you’ve stopped sleeping around as well and you don’t bother to mention it, mostly because you know it gives him a little edge when you fall into bed with him. He becomes a crazed man when you come to him in the night but then he sees you wrestling with one of his men and he loses his shit. He doesn’t care how pathetic it looks when he comes through the late night camp and drags you across so every one knows who you belong to. Your laughter only makes it worse and he isn’t able to make it into his tent, instead pushing you against one of the trees that’s too close to camp and ordering you to strip down. You do as you’re told and bite back from sobbing when he shoves his cock deep into your cunt. He doesn’t go slow, doesn’t wait for you to get used to him. He just fucks you and keeps fucking you until you’re screaming his name and telling everyone how well he fucks you. He’s whispering filthy things in your ears and you feel his cock grow impossibly harder when you tell him how good it feels and how much you love pleasuring him so everyone could know who makes him cum. It should be the other way around but he doesn’t care, continuing his assault and occasionally spanking your ass when you’re not loud enough for him. The camp grows quiet and he’s sure it’s because everyone can hear the two of you hate-fucking the shit out of each other. When he cums in your cunt, he doesn’t give you any reprieve, instead dragging you again the few steps into his tent and not bothering to tie it closed as he pushes you to your knees and forces you to gag on his cock. Anyone can walk and he’s sure that anyone can hear him calling you his filthy cocklut and you’re giving his ego a boost with all the noises you’re making and how much you’re begging him to take you out to the bonfire and fuck you in front of all those men so they know who owns this pussy. Perhaps one day he would do just that, but for now, he’s content with having you to himself. Well, except your screams that is.

Marcus Moreno - Age Play.

He’s not sure what to do anymore. All he knows is that he hears you telling Missy that she needs to get ready so ‘daddy’ isn’t late for work and he has to run to the bathroom before he embarrasses himself. After that little incident, he rarely leaves the two of you alone when he’s at home, always making sure that he’s around just to hear you say that godforsaken word again. He feels guilty for thinking of you that way and he tries to convince himself that he should stop because you’re his kid’s nanny and you probably already have someone closer to your age and it occurs to him that he is getting turned on because of the age gap and how sweet and innocent you look. He feels bad for avoiding you but he doesn’t know what else to do, afraid that he’d lose his control one day and pounce on you. But you’re cornering him one night and you’re asking if you’d done anything wrong and he says that everything’s fine and he’s just been tired but you don’t believe him. He’s about to tell you when Missy walks in crying and she’s telling you that she had nightmares and she wants to go Marcus but you kneel down and take her in your arms and tell her that daddy needs to rest too. Your eyes widen in horror at what you just said and you look up at Marcus only to find him clenching his jaw tightly and thank god the kid is already half asleep in your arms because as soon as your eyes trail down, you find a large tint in his pants and when you make eye contact again, you know. You know why he’s been avoiding you and you see him blushing because he knows that you know. Marcus thinks he’s screwed up and when you walk into his office after putting Missy to sleep again, he’s embarrassed and tripping over his words. But you’re not giving him a chance to say anything and you’re pushing on his chest until he’s sitting on the couch and you’re unbuckling his belt and it’s all happening so fast. Marcus feels his heart skip a beat when he sees you looking through your eyelashes and begging for him, for daddy, to cum down your throat. From then on, it’s hidden glances and soft touches and Marcus waits for you every night in his room, his eyes beaming with joy when you walk in and coo in his ears. He’s hard in an instant when he hears you call him ‘daddy’ and he switches between making love to you and fucking you into the next world every time he hears you whisper how much you enjoy it when he uses you and how much you love it when he calls you his ‘little girl,’ and how you’ve longed to hear him say that he owns your pussy because he’s your daddy and because no one else gets to fuck his sweet little angel. You tell him everything, of how long you’ve wanted him and how none of the boys at college can come close to the way he makes you feel and how much you wish you could stay in his bed forever because he makes you feel safe and he’s your daddy and he takes care of you. And it’s not long before Marcus realizes that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Missy to have a little brother or sister.

Ezra - Cockwarming.

He’s shy when the two of you shift towards a more physical relationship, mostly because it’s been a while since he’d had anyone he could call his, especially someone as beautiful and kind as yourself. He’s not sure what he’s allowed to do at first but he quickly comes to the realization that you would let him do anything he wanted with you. He’s overwhelmed by your affections and how deep they run because they mirror his own. The idea comes to him one night when the two of you are back in his pod. Neither of you have the energy for anything but he really wants to feel you against him so he begs you to open up for him. You do, thinking he was going to take it slow and pleasure the both of you until you fall asleep in each other’s arms, but then he’s not moving at all, not one muscle, and you quickly realize that he just wants to be inside you and doesn’t care for moving or for doing anything. The thought makes you clench tightly around him and he hisses in your ears, begging you to relax so he doesn’t cum. Not yet. It slowly becomes a habit and more often than not, the two of you are relishing the feeling of being warm and in each other’s arms. His cock twitches inside you and makes your pussy soak him through, squeezing him tightly until he can’t take it anymore and he’s coming deep inside you. Neither of you move as he fills your cunt with his seed and he bucks his hips involuntarily before the two of you relax. You wake up in the middle of the night and he’s still inside you and you sigh when you feel him harden the more you flutter around him. It doesn’t take long for Ezra to pull you closer to him in his sleep and you shut your eyes to enjoy how full you feel before you let your mind relax until you’re softly snoring against him once more.

Maxwell Lord - Praise Kink.

You’re not sure if he’s being serious or not when he mentions it in passing, but you start to notice how he reacts to your words whenever the two of you are alone. He relaxes and leans into you the more you praise him and tell him how good he’s been for you and how lucky you are to have him. It gradually becomes a thing in bed as well except it’s his turn to whisper those sweet filthy words in your ears as he’s pulsating inside you and filling you up over and over again. You were never into this because of how embarrassing it sounds but you find yourself growing hotter and shaking with need the more he tells you that you’re his ‘good little sweetheart’ and that he doesn’t want anyone else but you because you’ve stuck with him through the tough times and now that he literally owns the world, he’ll bring you anything your heart desires. You’re telling him that he’s the only thing you desire because no one treats you so well or cares for you this much or thinks of you so often and Maxwell’s heart shatters because he’s never thought he could hear those words from anyone and he loses himself and takes you as many times during the night as he can because you’ve fallen into his lap and he can’t imagine a life without you and he grows harder in your cunt the more you tell him how good he makes you feel and how perfect he fits inside you and how full you are from his hard and fat cock and it brings him over the edge. So every time he bends you over his desk or pulls you to his lap, you’re both exchanging sweet words to each other because he’s never felt like he could bring the world to anyone but he can with you and you never thought you would every feel this satisfied by someone and you are.

Dave York - Con/Non-Con Play, and the knife/gun comes into play here. (this is dubious so please don’t read on if this makes you uncomfy)

You had some inclination as to what you were getting yourself into when you started working with Dave. He was your senior in the field and never once did you think of breaking his rules. But you do one day and his calm resolve shakes you to your core because his tone maybe patient but his eyes are swimming with anger and frustration. You listen to his orders and nod before going your separate ways. Something is off, however, when you go back to your hotel room and find it darker than you left it. You have about three seconds to react, but you’re three seconds too late and your training is about to kick in when the familiar musky cologne hits your nostrils. You know who it is immediately but his hold tightens around your throat and he’s biting into your neck to let you know who’s in control. You can feel him smile against your heated skin and you’re not sure what he wants but then his hand travels down and roughly grabs at your cunt through your jeans. You’re already a wet mess but Dave is full of surprises, and your eyes widen in horror when you feel a knife to your neck. He breaks for a single moment, asking you if this is what you want, and your brief nod makes him chuckle because he didn’t think he’d be able to get this far but you’re letting him take over. He pushes the knife harder against you and you’re whining and asking him to not hurt you. You took a wild guess at what he was silently asking from you and you’re right on the mark, no pun intended, when his grip tightens around you and he’s shoving you against the wall and ripping through your clothes. You’re begging him not to hurt you and it eggs him on. You don’t have time to think of a proper reaction as you feel the knife dig into your shoulder blades, bordering pain and pleasure. He’s telling you that he owns your body, your breaths, your noises, your arousal, and there’s nothing you could do about it. Because he can kill you with the simplest flick of his wrist. His cock twitches in his pants when you start crying and begging him to not take you but he’s already shoving his dick in your impossibly wet cunt and he can’t believe he found someone who’s tastes run as dark as his. You’re sobbing at how good it feels and how shameless he is with his touches and you’re losing yourself to the pleasure. But right before you fall over the edge, you hear the sound of a gun clicking back and your eyes instantly widen at the sudden shift in the air. You turn around just in time to see Dave hold the gun to your throat while the knife is between his teeth. He’s looking dangerously at you and you realize he must have really had it with you today because he’s pulling out all the stops with you. One glance and you know the safety is off and at the realization of how far he’s willing to take this, you’re coming hard on his cock, soaking him and the your clothes and the ground. He continues to fuck you through it, not caring about the mess the two of you are making. When you lean down and start begging him to not cum in you because it’s not safe, his pace picks up and he shoves the gun in your mouth. One look at how wrecked and sweaty he is and you’re clenching tightly around him. He growls his release when he sees mascara running down your cheeks and he shoves the gun deeper in your throat until you’re gagging on it. He stops and pulls out just to watch his cum rolling down your thighs and he can’t hold back from pushing the handle of his knife in your cunt so you wouldn’t lose any more of his cum. You’re panting and shaking against him and he brings you to your bed and strips you down until you’re naked beneath him. He takes his clothes off as well and pushes himself against your back, telling you to get some rest because he as nowhere near done with you yet, making sure his tone conveys that you may have little choice in what he has in mind for you.

Marcus Pike - Somnophilia.

His hours are hellish, he knows that, but that doesn’t stop Marcus from wanting to sink into your sweet, wet cunt as soon as he gets home. He’s happy that you text him and tell him that you’d wait up for him but when he walks into the bedroom and sees the television playing while you’re fast asleep, he can’t bring himself to wake you up. So he shuts off the television and walks into the bathroom, taking himself in his hand and pretending it was your nimble fingers bringing him pleasure. And before he knows it, he’s coming hard on and makes a mess of himself. Not thinking much of it, he throws his shirt in the laundry and cleans up before slipping between the sheets and bringing you closer to him. It takes him a few moments to allow his heart to rest because you’re so beautiful and warm against him and he feels his cock twitch at the thought of you bringing him pleasure even in your sleep but he brushes the thought aside just as quickly as it comes because he would never do that to you. It’s a surprise when you’re doing laundry the next day and see proof of what he’d done and you feel a little guilty but also, you’re not sure why he didn’t wake you up. So you make sure to wait up for him and confront him, guilt eating you alive when he tells you that he didn’t want to disrupt your sleep because it wasn’t that important. But then you’re asking him why he doesn’t just have you while you’re asleep and you think you’ve gone too far because of the look on his face. But Marcus gulps and asks if you’d really be okay with that or not because the thought of him fucking you in your sleep is making him hard and ready. You feel your panties dampen just from thinking about it and you’re pushing him down on the bed and fucking him and telling him he could do anything he wanted to do with you and you wouldn’t mind. He cums with your name on his lips and you fall asleep immediately. He doesn’t think he’ll want to do it this soon but when he comes home the next day and you’re asleep, he thinks about it but decides not to. But then he sees what you wore to bed and he swears you did this on purpose. Before he thinks about it, he’s pushing your thighs open and licking at your cunt like a starved man, groping and cupping your breasts through the flimsy material of the lingerie and you’re moaning in your sleep but you’re not awake yet. He takes his pants off immediately and feels you clench around him as soon as he sheathes himself inside you. He thinks he’s died and went to heaven because he’s barely touched you and you’ve cum around his cock and he’s fucking you slow and deep, and you’re moaning in your sleep. He’s sweating from how much he’s holding back and he cant’ take his eyes off of your heavy chest and how willing you are. You’re at his mercy and the thought almost brings him over the edge but he holds back and continues to thrust into you until he feels like he’s going to lose his soul. He’s coming in your cunt but he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left in him and he goes to sleep without cleaning you up because he’s probably going to wake up in the middle of the night and fuck you again and he wants to push in you easily when he does and just use his cum as lube. And he does, two more times. And still refuses to clean you up because he really wants to watch you wake up in the morning and feel your mixed cum between your thighs and know that he used you for his own pleasure...

Max Phillips - Biting and Bloodplay (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy)

It’s a little jarring when you find out the truth about Max. You think it’s a dream at first because there’s no way vampires exist, it’s just not the world that you live in. You’re a bit afraid in the beginning because you know how he gets sometimes but he’s been nothing but patient with you thus far. When he invites you for dinner at his place one night, you can’t help but joke about being his meal and it’s awkward for a few moments but he laughs along and promises you he doesn’t bite...yet. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know, you’re staying over his place almost every night. Curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him what it feels like to sink his teeth into someone’s skin and he’s reluctant to respond because he doesn’t want to give himself away. He doesn’t want to tell you how he dreams of biting your neck and your thighs and anywhere he could reach almost every night. But he doesn’t have to because you're moving closer to him and you’re whispering reassurances in his ears and you’re telling him that you trust him and it’s all he needs to hear before the thread snaps. He’s on you like dew on leaves and you’re baring your neck for him and he nips at your jaw before moving to your neck and your shoulder, leaving love bites anywhere he could reach because he can finally mark you as his. He can feel blood rushing through your arteries and he looks at you with need, a silent question swimming in his eyes and you sink your nails into his shoulder when you nod and he immediately digs his sharp fangs into your skin. You’re so glad you started this conversation because it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced. There’s pain shooting through your neck from how deep his fangs sank into your skin but there’s so much more pleasure coursing through your veins and there’s something erotic about hearing him sucking and slurping and gulping down your blood. He sits up for a second and you’re met with the scariest yet prettiest sight in the world and Max knows he should stop but he can’t and he turns your head to the other side and breaks the skin at the top of your breasts before he starts sucking again and it’s filthy but erotic all at once. He laps harshly at the puncture wounds before he wraps his lips around your nipples and bites a little harder than he intended. You have no time to react as he descends down your body and pushes your thighs open before he’s biting into the meat of your thighs and you’re shaking with need. As soon as he shoves two fingers into your cunt, you’re drenching his arms and coming violently around him, and Max forces himself to pull off of you just to watch you come undone at his touches. He leans down and licks across your cunt, his cock twitching in his pants when the taste of your arousal and your blood mix on his tongue and he realizes, then and there, that you’re it for him. He looks down at your blissed-out expression and he’s proud of how wrecked your look, even more so because he sees his marks everywhere on your skin, from your neck and shoulder to your breasts and your thighs. And fuck if this isn’t the prettiest sight in the whole wide world. And you’re all his.

[reddie-fangirl24]

Eddie, The Patient Chapter 4     (A Reddie Fanfiction)

“Eddie? Hey, Eddie, wake up.”

Feeling himself being lightly jostled awake, Eddie moaned, opening his eyes only a smidge. Even though the lights were turned off in the little room it felt like thousands of stage lights beaming in his eyes. Clutching at the burdensome churn in his stomach, the pain in his cranium was worse. Just the slightest movement hurt. 

“Feel like going home?” A familiar voice asked softly.

Home. That question felt like an understatement. “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. 

Gently being lifted up from the pillow, Eddie’s muscles felt like limp rubber. His head felt like a bowling ball, hardly able to lift it up. Still not able to open his eyes all the way, Eddie’s head fell against what felt like a rather muscular shoulder. 

Turning his nose up, Eddie gagged at the scent of cologne. He couldn’t stand any smell!

Wait. Cologne? Bill never wears cologne.

Finally, Eddie’s eyes opened further, looking up to see who it was. Richie cracked a smile, “Looks like someone has seen better days, huh?”

In that instant, Eddie drew back, his back hitting against the wall, staring at his husband in shock like he was seeing a ghost. “Richie, what the hell are you doing here?”

Feeling a sting in his gut, Richie placed a comforting hand against his shoulder. “Your boss called me telling me that you were as sick as a dog! I’m here to take you home.” He stated matter-of-factly. This gave him a chance to study Eddie more, able to see how sickly pale he was. Even just sitting looked like too much of a challenge for him. Guilt swam in his knotted stomach.

Shivering, Eddie shook his head. “I told her to call Bill!”

“Bill must be busy trying to figure out how to write a good ending,” Richie lightly joked, rubbing Eddie’s knee to soothe him. They enjoyed the solitude of the room listening to the distant voices from the office.

“No, you should be at work,” Eddie quivered, looking away from Richie in shame.

“Man, I gotta take you home!” Richie was kind enough to keep his voice low. Eddie’s head looked as if it could explode. 

“You have more important things to do. That show you are recording for you told me airs in... a week, and-and that show...” Eddie just trailed off, unable to go off on one of his normal tangents. Saddened by Eddie’s lack of energy to think proper words, Richie gently touched his face to get the man to look at him. He looked worried as though he were about to be lectured.

“Eddie, let me tell you something. You’re way more important than me standing on a stage performing to an audience,” he said to him with all the love in his voice.

It took a moment for Eddie to understand what the man said to him, but his mouth curled into a tiny bleary smile. He felt his heart warm, staring into Richie’s sincere eyes. Smiling crookedly, Eddie’s eyes were unfocused, glassy. Just feeling the heat rising off his face, Richie pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Jeez, what did you do, explore the inside of a volcano?” Richie remarked. With that, he stood up from the bed and helped Eddie stand. “Let’s get you home.”

Dizzy, Eddie stumbled, clinging to Richie who kept his arm secured around his waist. Grabbing his satchel from the chair and throwing his jacket around Eddie’s shoulders, Richie kept him steady, practically holding him up from the ground. 

“How are we getting home?” Eddie asked in a weak voice.

This is just sad. “I got us a taxi,” Richie replied as his hand fell on the doorknob.

Eddie drew back from him. “No, no, Rich, no that’s not a good idea!” Eddie anxiously rubbed his arm.

“Why not?” Richie asked confused. He took his hand away from the door and touched Eddie’s arm in comfort. How Eddie even had the strength to stand was beyond him.

Eddie’s expression turned to pure shame. Recalling a time when he was four when his dad was very sick, and getting worse, his mother ignored her husband’s pleas when he didn’t want her to get a cab to take them home. And of course, along the ride, Eddie’s father threw up in the backseat, upsetting the cab driver greatly. His mother was not happy either, having to pay extra for the mess. They were already struggling with expenses to begin with. 

Clutching at his stomach, Eddie averted his gaze from Richie’s understanding eyes. Was he going to be sick at any moment? “Taxies are too expensive to throw up in...” he managed to say.

Thinking back to how easygoing Harry the driver was, Richie smiled down at him. Staring into Richie’s eyes, the man never shamed him. Instead, he looked at him in half-pity, but pure love that made Eddie’s heart throb. “I got some news for you, man, I think taxi drivers are used to that kind of thing,” he reassured his love in a soft tone, looking into his tired eyes. 

With that, Richie planted a kiss on Eddie’s forehead. Eddie’s heart instantly beamed, and his eyes sparkled like the way he did when he was a kid. Richie’s heart melted, too, having missed tender moments like these with Eddie. Now it was obvious how little time they’d spent together.

“Let’s take our chances, come on, let’s get you home, you little turd!” Richie grinned as they exited the room into the main office. Richie kept an arm around Eddie’s waist, as the man leaned against him, holding his stomach, and not saying a word. Some teachers were present, looking up at the men. Eddie didn’t want to look at any of the teachers’ faces. They were ashamed.

“Goodbye, Eddie, feel better!” Mrs. Alliston cheerfully called out from her office. “We’ll miss you!”

Miss me? What did that mean?

His stomach started making those gurgling noises again as they finally made it outside, the fresh breeze hitting Eddie’s face. The yellow taxi came into view as Richie helped him down the steps. Even though the driver smiled, nodding to him in sympathy, that didn’t make Eddie feel any better. 

Opening the door, Richie let Eddie slide in first. Based on the fermenting smell, it was obvious that this taxi had a history of car sickness. Eddie grasped his stomach, trying not to think about it, or gag. Oh, this ride was going to be awful!

Getting his husband’s attention, Richie let Eddie lie down so he could use his leg as a pillow. Comfortable, Eddie gripped Richie’s knee, and closed his eyes, listening to his husband recite their address to the driver. Even while they were driving Richie made jokes with the driver. Everyone knew him. Who wouldn’t want to know Richie? Was Eddie just another person to the world of Richie’s fame? Or was he going to become a negative outlook because of this incident?

Three blocks. It was just three blocks. That felt like hours!

Gently rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, Richie kept him steady, even opening up the windows to let some air into the car. Unlike the drive to the school, it didn’t feel as nervewracking this time. There weren’t as many stops and people were at least observant. 

Hang in there, Eds. Almost there, Richie assured his love who emitted uncomfortable moans every so often, clutching at his stomach. Little did Richie know that Eddie was dreaming about his student’s disgusted horrified faces. And his boss. Was she angry? Yes, of course, she was! She must have already been planning to fire him.

The car stopped. Oh no, traffic? No, they were home. Home.

Helping Eddie out from the car, he could hardly stand, looking as though he would vomit at any second. It was best to get him inside and fast. Leaning him against the car, Richie turned back to the cab driver.

“Thanks, Harry! You saved both our asses!” Richie said, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.

“No problem, and no charge.”

“What, no, you hauled us around town! You need something for dealing with me!”

“You’re Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier. Giving you a ride means more than anything,” Harry said to him with a big thankful smile.

As Eddie waited, he wrapped his light jacket tighter around his shivering body. How could he feel cold when the sun was shining? That churning feel returned, showing no signs of subsiding, gurgling and ready to make it journey venturing up to its destination. At least it was rewarding in the end.

“Richie...” his voice was weak, but he was able to make it sound panicked.

Just as Richie made the cab driver accept a five-dollar tip, Richie turned just in time to see a green-faced Eddie’s cheeks puffing up. Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Richie took Eddie around his waist and lead him towards the front stairs. “Thank you!”

“Anytime. Feel better, sir!” The driver called out.

Getting up the eight steps to the front door was normally easy, but Eddie hardly had the strength, leaning against Richie who hurried him along, bouncing him about, only making matters worse. Eddie almost misstepped, feeling it come closer and closer. Maybe Richie should actually think about installing an escalator.

“Richie...” Eddie painfully moaned once more. Richie hated whenever Eddie said his name like that. It only reminded him of that dreadful moment where he had to witness Pennywise slice through the love of his life right in front of him. Believing that he was going to lose him again, Eddie pulled through. Yes, he pulled through.

“Just a few more steps, Eds!” Richie attempted to assure him in whatever way he could. These words strengthened Eddie and before they knew it, they were inside after Richie struggled with the house key, racing to the bathroom in the hallway.

Falling to his knees, Eddie violently vomited into the toilet in a matter of seconds. It hurt. Despite his own stomach lurching, Richie smoothed a calming hand over the man’s back, holding him. “I gotcha, Eds, I got you. Better out than in,” Richie soothed him, gently giving his shoulder a squeeze. What’s even in there?

Once Eddie emptied the contents of his stomach, he fell to the side of the toilet practically rolling up in a fetal position. How long was this going to last? His insides felt as if they were going to explode from the pain. Sweat dripped from his warm forehead as Eddie whimpered, his head pounding. 

Carefully, Richie led Eddie to the bedroom. Jumping at how Eddie’s cold and clammy against his skin, a funny joke came to Richie. “Jeez, man, your hands are like ice and yet you’re burning up! What should I do, put you half in Hawaii and the other in Antarctica?”

Eddie lightly smiled, liking Richie’s attempt at cheering him up.

Dressing out of his clothes, Eddie got into something more comfortable. He realized that he never put on a tie that morning to go with his now sweat-soaked clothes. Eddie was too sick to even care as Richie helped untie his shoes for him.

Once he sat back into the pillows, Eddie’s eyes closed. This was the most peaceful bliss he could feel all day, snuggling under the warm covers. In that instant, he felt so much better. 

Feeling something tap at his knees through the bedcovers, Richie pecked straw at his mouth. “Ginger ale. It’ll make your stomach feel better.”

Taking a couple of sips, the bubbly liquid made his nose itch. Now he was thankful that they kept ginger ale in the house at all times. He always chewed out Richie when he drank too much in celebratory after one of his shows. 

“Not too much, now. You don’t want to get sick again.” Richie said with a smile putting the glass on the nightstand next to the bed.

As tears leaked into his eyes, Eddie felt anything but better. Why was everyone being so overwhelmingly doting to him when he’d messed up everything? His students were trapped in a room with an awful fermenting smell, a substitute had to be called in, Richie had to leave work, and his boss was disappointed in him.

“Oh, Rich, I’m sorry!” Eddie cried rolling onto his side, hiding the tears from Richie.

“Hey, don’t be sorry, Eddie. I know how you feel!” Richie gave his husband’s arm a tight squeeze. He was close to tearing up himself. Seeing Eddie cry was the worst. But, Eddie being sick, oh that was enough to make his heart crack. “I would never have let you leave the house this morning. I’m sorry, man.”

Eddie was too sick to plead his case any further. Sleep was already taking over. Rolling up on his side, Eddie was asleep in a matter of seconds.

“You just sleep, Eddie. I’m here if you need me,” Richie said softly as he rubbed his side through the blankets. 

Relieved that Eddie was finally getting some rest, Richie stood up pacing the bedroom fuming. What the fuck was wrong with him? Everything could have been avoided if he wasn’t so busy in his own world that morning! Why, why did he answer his phone to talk to his boss? If he noticed Eddie struggling to hold himself up, or his odd behavior, he never would have let Eddie go to school. He was better than this. Now, he really let Eddie down. 

Feeling his cell phone buzz in his pocket, Richie was relieved when he saw that it was Bill calling him. Collecting himself, Richie reluctantly left the bedroom to answer. “Hey, Bill, what’s up?”

“Richie, is everything okay? Audra and I both got a call from the principal of Eddie’s school saying that he’s sick. Are you-”

“No, Bill, I’m sorry!” Richie interrupted digging through his hair. He leaned against the wall, tiredly. “Eddie is home. I got him.”

“Oh good. Why did she call us anyway?” Bill asked him.

“Eddie didn’t want to have the office call me because he was afraid of interrupting me from some scheduled rehearsals I had scheduled for today. He refused to tell me that he was sick this morning. Course I was wrapped up in everything. The car decided to kick, my manager scheduled an interview, and Eddie slipped out the door while I was talking on the phone. Ugh, I feel so stupid!”

“Rich, don’t beat yourself up,” Bill said to him. “It happens to everyone.”

“That’s easy enough for you say! Eddie has the flu. He’s never been this sick before. You know how bad he is even when he gets a cold!” Richie yelled into the phone. Realizing that he was still close to the bedroom, Richie lowered his voice. Clearly, Bill could hear the stress in his voice. “Sure, I’ve taken care of him before, but this is different.”

“Do you need Audra and me to come over there?” Bill asked. Richie heard something slam shut in the background which he guessed was Bill’s laptop. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”

Richie shook his head. That was right. He almost forgot. “No, Bill, you don’t have to come here. Eddie is way more important than that show. I need to do this. He needs me.”

“Okay,” Bill said in understanding. “Listen, I know how you feel. How many times do you think Audra stopped me from going to work because I was sick? And once Audra put on her makeup before heading to the studio and the director had to call me to come and take her home.” Bill chuckled. “It was the first time of me telling her, ‘I told you so!’”

Richie laughed, too, making him release some of the tension. “Thanks, Bill.”

“How are you, Richie?” Bill asked after a moment.

That question. Since Richie had always been closed off, he dreaded answering those questions. He couldn’t let Bill know that he was struggling, at a loss, feeling like a failure to his own husband. Spoken like a real loser. 

“I just feel like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’, Bill,” Richie tried to laugh to make the situation a little better, to no avail. “It’s the flu. What if... what if, I don’t know...”

“It’s okay. Just keep him hydrated, make sure he gets plenty of rest, and if he needs to throw up, help him. I know it isn’t pleasant, but it helps. And keep the TLC going!”

Richie laughed. “That shouldn’t be a problem!”

“You’re welcome. And keep me posted. I swear Audra and I will come over there if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Bill. Listen, I gotta run. I need to go check on him.” Richie said appreciatively. Hanging up the phone, Richie felt some weight lift off his shoulders. Friends. What would he do without them?

Walking back into the bedroom, Richie found Eddie still asleep. It broke his heart to see him look this sick. This pale. And so... still.

Wait, was he... no, he couldn’t think that. Yes, he was emitting little breaths from his mouth as he poked his head closer.

Pulling up a chair, Richie took out a magazine, watched Eddie for a few moments, keeping watch of his dear husband who slept. I’m right here, Eddie. I am here.

[ohdeputy]

100 Letters PART VI

Arthur Morgan x John Marston

Words: 4,774

Read on Archive

Part V

-

Sleep didn’t come easy to John that night. And when it finally did he was haunted by the depth of his thoughts. There he saw Nico, though she was no longer the horrific image with half her skull missing. She was Nico again, to a certain extent. Her dark hair contrasted against skin that was so much paler than he remembered, with deep sunken eyes. She looked…hollow. Her face only a vague reflection of who she was when she was alive.

In this dream she did not speak to him, reminding John she wasn’t real. And while he saw countless others around them, they never looked the same as her. She was always the center of his focus, while everyone else was background noise. She seemed to float like she was still submerged under the water she was left in. And when she looked at him, John became riddled with sorrow at the sight. She had an air of sadness surrounding her that pulled at his heart.

He sat next to her on a wide stretch of beach, where she turned to face the water that lulled in and out with the tide. He tried to speak to her, but no words came out and he was met with a coldness as she turned away from him. He settled for sitting beside her in silence, looking out across the slow waves in quiet observation. It was almost nice, if it weren’t for the uneasy feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He watched until the sun began to set before them, sinking into the water that turned a deep red as it swallowed it whole. Out of nowhere, he felt a hand grab onto his arm, turning face to face with Nico. John saw fear registered in her eyes, questioning him. He looked down to see blood pooling between them, Nico gripping him with sticky hands.

John backed away in horror, streaking the sand beneath him. His eyes followed the trail to the source, finding it to be coming from Nico’s abdomen. It spilled from her, pouring onto the beach. John lurched toward her, reaching out a hand to see it wrapped around the handle of his revolver. Nico’s blood soaked into the metal and stained the wood of the handle, making him let go in shock and watched it drop from his hands in an agonizing slow motion.

John jolted awake, frantically wiping his hands across his shirt. Cold sweat wrapped his body in unease, his heart beating to match. He couldn’t get the image of Nico’s blood out of his head. He sat upright, planting his feet on the ground and held his head in his hands.

He almost got away with believing he was rid of the nightmares. Instead, they only seemed to persist, further puzzling John in the meaning behind it all. He thought of the beach with its blood-soaked sand, the gun he wielded, and how it was him who shot Nico. It’s all my fault.

John rubbed his eyes, then stood. He took a step into the early morning air and approached a barrel full of water situated next to his tent, plunging his hands in and bringing it to his face. It was ice cold, making him shiver, but it helped wake him up.

When he wiped his face and looked up he saw Abigail standing there. He almost jumped out of his skin. The woman had a gift for appearing out of thin air.

“Where were you?” She demanded, holding her hands on her hips.

“Out.” John turned away but she followed.

“Out? Nobody knew where you went! The boy was worried, and you didn’t return last night-”

“I did,” John snapped at her. “I’m fine.”

He sidestepped out of her path and slipped back into his tent, but she would not give up. He was only alone for a second before she pushed aside the opening.

“Don’t do that.”

Her persistence continued to frustrate him as she followed him inside. “Do what?”

“Run away! You always run away when I’m just tryna talk with you!”

He shot her a glare, eyes furrowed, “it ever occur to you that I ain’t in the mood for talkin’, then?”

John sat down at the edge of his bed, looking away from her.

“Oh yes, very funny.” She gave a sigh, “look, I just wanted to ask you if you were gunna get out of camp at all-”

“Just LEAVE it alone, will you? Quit nagging me about shit. Why does everyone seem so interested in me getting off my ass?”

“I was only asking so you could get some books for Jack! I just thought it might be important for our son to be taught how to read! If it’s that big of an issue for you I can ask Arthur-”

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and ask Arthur! Though, you’re better off getting it yourself!”

Abigail scowled at him, “what is with you today? Why are you being like this?”

John sighed, hanging his head. “I just- I’m trying my best to do something and-and with everything that happened in Black-after Colter I’m-” John stuttered through his words, “I almost died, okay?!”

This seemed to catch her off guard, suddenly growing quiet. John rubbed a hand over his eyes, not meaning for things to escalate so quickly. His own confession startled even him, not realizing until he said it out loud just how much almost dying actually scared him.

John thought Abigail might leave, but instead she moved to sit in the chair across from him.

“Yeah…you’re right. I’m sorry.”

A beat of silence followed.

“It’s Nico, too, isn’t it,” she spoke the words gently, but John still flinched at them. “John. John, look at me.”

When he did, he was met with a stern expression. Her lips were pressed together but he could also see worry lining her brow. He turned away again, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“Yeah…” he reluctantly admitted. She patiently sat across from him without moving. He could feel her gaze following his movements.

“It’s okay, you can tell me.”

John shifted uncomfortably, “I was there.” He paused, “when she…” he took a deep breath to calm his nerves, his voice shaking. “You know, I saw what happened. No one else knows but… it were Dutch, Abigail,” he looked up, eyes pleading her to believe him. To say the truth out loud felt like a weight being lifted, yet John was scared. He hadn’t said a word to anyone else about what he saw. He couldn’t.

“I saw what he did to her. Shot her, right in the head, too. She didn’t… she wasn’t-”

“I know,” Abigail said softly, giving a comforting smile.

John suddenly wanted to tell her everything, not caring how incoherent he sounded. He had kept it bottled up for what felt like decades, frustrated that he had no one to talk to about his pain.

“It’s not like what they said, she would never…”

“Hey, I know,” she hesitantly reached out for his hand, and she let him take it. She gave a small squeeze. John swallowed dryly, feeling his throat tighten from the subject.

“Are you the only one who knows?”

He nodded.

She gave him a mournful look that made John so aware of just how alone he was. “I might not have known Nico as well as you, but I know you, John. We might have some things to sort out between us but that don’t mean I don’t trust you. There are others, too. Hosea, Arthur, they trust you.”

John shook his head, “not over Dutch, they don’t.”

Abigail looked down and John let his features soften. Here was someone understanding and actually comforting him for once. “But thank you, Abigail.”

She nodded in understanding, retracting her hand as she slowly got up to sit beside him. “Arthur would.”

“Trust you,” she continued after John gave a questioning look. He sighed, he knew Abigail thought Arthur was a good man, and he was. John knew it, too. But there was too much bad blood for trust to exist between them any longer.

It looked like Abigail was going to say something more, but instead, she just gave John another smile and stood up.

“Now, don’t let that man get to you.” She straightened her skirt out, standing tall, “you’re gunna take your time to heal, rest up. And when you see Dutch you will be unbothered. You know the truth, John. It’s time to make him sweat.”

With that, she started to leave. Lingering at the tent’s entrance, she turned to say one last thing, “and John, I’m glad you talked to me about this.”

He nodded and she exited the tent, leaving John alone. He appreciated her sentiment but also understood it was easier said than done. Especially since she knew nothing of the extent of Dutch’s wrath.

A part of him always wished he had confined in Abigail some more, to tell him just how bad things were. But he was scared. What happened between himself and Dutch had always stayed between the two, and as much as John wished it could be brought to light, he was terrified of that exposure.

In the days that followed his conversation with Abigail, the breeze carried a warmer wind. He felt slightly better after talking with her, which was the last thing he expected. He was still sour over his last interaction with Arthur, who he noticed was still absent from camp. John thought that perhaps it was for the better, as he wasn’t in the mood to see him either.

During the nights, his dreams of Nico would come and go. Not much changed in them, but each time he was consumed by one, he woke up more restless than the last.

John bolted upright in his bed, woken up by yet another nightmare. He sighed when his heartrate finally settled and he was sure he wasn’t on the beach that his unconsciousness tricked him into visiting.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, then stood. Pulling on a pair of jeans and his coat, he left his tent. Thinking the night air might help ease his mind, he walked to the small clearing of trees that surrounded their little hideaway.

He passed by Javier, who made his rounds as he patrolled for the night. Giving a small nod, which the other man returned, he continued past until he walked between the sparse trees. He dug his hands in his pocket to get a cigarette, finding a match which he flicked across the bottom of his boot. Bringing it up to light the end of the cigarette, he took a long drag. Watching the cloud of smoke dissipate as he breathed out, he closed his eyes.

He let the sounds of the night fill his thoughts. The slight wind that shook the leaves of the trees, the creaking of the branches. He could hear the horses not far from where he stood. Their quiet grazing and the-

“Shoot, you damn animal, just move!”

John’s eyes snapped open when he heard the sound of a woman’s voice softly cursing. He put out his cigarette and slowly approached where the horses were kept, hearing the disturbance come from that direction.

When he came closer, he could see the woman they’d taken in at Colter struggling to get onto Dutch’s horse, the Count. She had one foot planted firmly in the stirrup of the saddle that she gripped onto tightly as the horse sidestepped away from her. She continued to try her best but ultimately fail at properly mounting onto the horse, swearing with every breath she took as she did.

“Going somewhere?” John interrupted her feeble endeavour of being inconspicuous. She jumped, not noticing his spectating from her fixated focus at poorly attempted horse theft.  

“If you were gunna try to run away, you probably shouldn’t have picked the leader of the gang’s horse to steal. You know, he’d put a bounty on your head if you did.”

The woman awkwardly dropped her foot down from the saddle and straightened herself out. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

John scrunched his features in disbelief, to which she rolled her eyes, “okay fine. I was leavin’.”

She crossed her arms, frowning at him, “so, you gunna stop me?”

John gave a shrug, leaning against one of the hitching poles. She looked a little skeptical at first, then moved onto another horse to try her luck with.

“You’re Miss. Adler, right?”

“Mrs.” She corrected without turning around. When Taima, Charles’ horse, moved away from her, too, she finally did turn around and give a deep sigh.

“Sadie,” she said quietly. “You can just call me Sadie, though.”

She peered at some of the other horses eagerly, spotting Silver Dollar. She gave John a questioning look, to which he frowned. “Bad choice, that one’s known Hosea for longer than you would know.”

Sadie’s shoulders dropped.

“But…” John continued, and she raised her brow at him. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, Lenny’s horse hasn’t been with him for too long.”

He nodded in the direction of the light brown mustang to the side. Sadie followed his gaze to where the mare was, walking over to put a hand down the horse’s neck.

“Maggie sure does mean a lot to Lenny, though. He loves that horse.” John could see her hesitate at that.

“I thought you said you weren’t gunna try to stop me?”

John shook his head, “no, by all means.”

She gave Maggie a few pats before hoisting herself on. There was no trouble from the mustang as Sadie settled into the saddle, making John hope Old Boy wouldn’t be as compliant.

“So, where’re you off to?”

“To kill Colm O’Driscoll.”

John couldn’t help laughing slightly, surprised by her boldness. She looked offended as he did, “something funny about that?”

“No, no. You just… remind me of someone, that’s all.”

Her features softened somewhat, then she looked down at the reins in her hands.

“You have a plan?” he asked her, making her send another glare his way.

“No.”

“You know where he is?”

“No.”

John gave her a once over, noting the way she only carried a small bag slung across her shoulder.

“You gotta gun?”

“…no.”

Most men would have given her a smug expression, or even scolded her for being so brash and unprepared. But John saw the way her expression cracked, and how her body seemed to slump in defeat. He could see she was just upset, and felt like she was out of options. He knew this because he felt it, too. All too familiar with what she was going through.

He vaguely remembered Abigail telling him of what happened to her when they’d first picked her up back in the mountains. How she had lost everything in one night just by being the unlucky victim of Colm’s unruly gang, and happened to be in their path of destruction.

John specifically remembered how she had lost her husband in the process, too, and how hard it affected her. During his early days at Horseshoe Overlook, he recalled seeing her apart from the others. She always seemed distressed, hiding her face as she would quietly weep. He felt remorse at the sight, wishing he could do something to help her. But he also figured he was probably the last person she wanted to confront her. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say.

When she still hadn’t moved from where she sat, John took the few steps toward her and offered his hand. After a moment she reluctantly took it, and he helped her down.

“He’ll see the hangman’s noose, Mrs. Adler. He is a high priority for Dutch to find. And if that somehow doesn’t come to play out, I will personally help you put a bullet between his eyes.”

Sadie seemed to ease up a bit at that, but only slightly. “That bastard deserves a slow, painful death for what he’s done.”

“I can’t agree with you more on that.” John conceded. She nodded, but her eyes were glazed over like she wasn’t really listening to him.

“Perhaps you should stay for the time being, you can take it easy for a while. Take your time to plan out how you’re going to get him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You said you weren’t gunna stop me,” she said it again, though she took the couple of steps back into camp beside him.

He gave another shrug, “just a suggestion, you are more than welcome to try this again tomorrow.”

He paused for a second before turning to her, “though, if I could just ask a favour?”

She gave him a questionable look, to which he continued, “just please don’t take my horse.”

Sadie smiled at that, much to John’s surprise. She then departed their conversation to join where the other women stayed at the far side of camp. He thought about her determination at leaving and finding Colm, and found himself hoping she would stay. There was potential at her becoming a skilled member of their gang, if that was something she would be interested in.

He had heard that she knew how to use a gun, and compared to some other, much older, members, that already made her just as skilled.

As the days passed and grew warmer, he continued seeing Sadie around camp. She would give him a slight wave and greeting in passing, which he would return in kind. It was nice, since she was always around. Most of the time the people John actually got along with were far from camp.

Sometimes Sadie would come with a book in hand and sit not far off from John as he sat underneath his oak tree. The two didn’t talk, but he took comfort in knowing she was around while he passed the time.

With things staying slow around camp, John’s mind often wandered back to the auction yard in Valentine and the potential job there.

On one particularly quiet morning, he thought about heading out to stay in town a bit. That way he could keep an eye on things, and have the excuse of being away from camp for a while. There hadn’t been any sign of Arthur, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want the chance of bumping into him when he came back. John thought it was probably best if he wasn’t around.

So when John woke up with the intention of leaving that day, the last thing he was expecting was anyone stopping him, least of all the person that did.

“John.”

He felt himself tense, his skin crawling from the voice that called his name.

“Just the man I was looking for.” He turned around to face Dutch approaching him.

“How are you, son?” He emphasized the last word, his eyes piercing into John’s as if goading him with how polite he was being.

John had to keep himself from gritting his teeth when responding, “fine.”

“Hmm,” Dutch stroked his chin as he stared at him intently. “Listen, the camp is in need of more supplies. I need you to go pick some things up at Wallace Station.”

“Wallace Station?!” John couldn’t catch himself in time as he responded, “Dutch, that’s… all the way on the other side of the river.”

“That it is.”

When John didn’t say anything, a sly smile crept across Dutch’s face. “Is that a problem.”

“It’s just, well, we’re real close to Valentine, why can’t I pick things up from there-”

“Because I’m asking you to go to Wallace Station.”

John had to avert his gaze, holding his tongue as he did. Taking his silence as agreement, Dutch placed a hand on his shoulder. John stiffened from the contact, while Dutch led him over to where they kept one of their wagons.

“Good! That’s settled, then.”

After a minute, Dutch was gone again, leaving John next to the beaten down wagon feeling just the same. He was so irritated, reduced to becoming an errand boy to do only the lowliest of jobs because Dutch told him to.

He walked over to the horses, securing their reins to the wagon. All the while he cursed under his breath, feeling like a damn fool.

“Hey, brother. Everything alright?”

Charles approached where he stood, wearing a look of concern.

Not realizing how hard he’d been scowling while feeling sorry for himself, John tried to wave off Charles’ worry. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Charles gave a glance over the wagon, “need help with something?”

“I have to pick up some stuff from Wallace Station.”

“Wallace Station?” Charles gave a frown.

John raised his eyebrows, letting out a breath of air, “don’t look at me. Dutch’s orders.”

He went to go close the hatch at the back of the wagon, noticing Charles climb up to sit as passenger at the front. “What’re you doing?”

“I’ll come with you. Make sure you get there and back okay.”

John was about to tell him that he really didn’t have to, and that it was nice of him to offer, but didn’t have the chance when someone spoke from behind them.

“Are you guys going out?”

John turned to see Sadie stood there, she wrung her hands together like she didn’t know what to do with them as she held a hopeful expression. “Please, can I come with you?”

“I- uhh,” John didn’t know what to say. “It’s gunna be quite the trip, I’ll likely take all day.”

“Oh, good,” Sadie moved past him, climbing up to sit in the back of the wagon. “I’m going crazy here, I need to get out.”

“Then, by all means,” he put up the hatch once Sadie settled in and walked back up to the front of the wagon, climbing on and grabbing the reins in his hands.

Urging the horses forward, he steered toward the main road. He kept the wagon going at a steady pace. He couldn’t help the slight smile that appeared on his face, happy to have the company on what would have turned into an inconvenience of a job.

For a while, they rode in silence, and it was nice. Just knowing that he wasn’t alone made the trip almost peaceful as they took their time on the country roads. They made their way along the Dakota River, the sound of the stream accompanying them for the majority of the trip.

Trees jutted skyward from the edges of stone as they passed by the high rocks of Caliban’s Seat. The uneven and rocky terrain around them providing beautiful scenery as they rode by.

After a while, Sadie stuck up conversation with the two of them, asking them how long they’d been running with Dutch. She talked a lot, which John didn’t mind. Her and Charles then spoke about hunting tricks each of them used while John listened.

It reminded him of Arthur, Nico, and himself when they were kids. Arthur notorious for talking their ears off. But it was easy that way, because John had always liked to listen. He couldn’t say the same for Nico, sometimes noticing the way she would tune out of whatever tale Arthur spun for them. But John knew it just wouldn’t be the same without her. The memories John had of the three of them becoming some of his favorite with everything they used to get up to.

His heart tightened a little from the nostalgia he held for their past friendship, trying to clear his head as he focused back to the road ahead.

They drove the wagon over the top of the Cumberland Falls and into the dense forests, knowing they must be close to the station now.

They arrived decently later in the day. After clearing the general store out of supplies, the three of them loaded everything into the back of the wagon. When they were finished, John waved his thanks to the shopkeeper and lifted himself back onto the wagon.

Taking the same road as they travelled back, heavy clouds could be seen hovering over the mountains in the distance. John tried to enjoy the moment with the other two, feeling as though he always mourned it’s loss before it was even over.

It was almost disappointing when they arrived back to camp in the late afternoon. What took a day only felt like an hour to him.

“God, that went by fast.” John felt like Sadie read his mind as she said it. He solemnly nodded in agreement, empathetic to her disappointed expression.

“I thought going out would help, but I’m only dreading to see Pearson’s stupid face again.” She slumped on the side of the wagon, “and having to listen to him talk? The man is about as interesting as the food he makes.”

John laughed at that, noticing Charles try to hide a smile, too.

“If I have to hear one more story about how he was in the navy, I swear, I might not make it through this.” As serious as she sounded, she smiled too.

“Things went smoothly, I presume?”

The air instantly turned bitter when Dutch approached the three of them. John quickly turned to unlatch the back of the wagon, trying his best to seem preoccupied with unloading the supplies.

“We had no trouble on the roads,” he heard Charles respond.

“Good, good.” Dutch came up beside John, bringing a foot up to lean on the side of the wagon. He could feel his eyes on him as he passed a crate of ammunition to Sadie.

“Them scars still pretty raw,” John only glanced at Dutch when he spoke.

“The new ones or the old ones.” He instantly regretted his response, feeling depleted from the sudden burst of bravery he had.

Dutch burnt holes into John, who was just able to catch the way his jaw clenched. “Exactly.”

“Those are some pretty tough lookin’ scars you got, John,” Sadie interjected when she picked up another crate, making him remember it wasn’t just him and Dutch in that moment.

John scoffed, “I wouldn’t call it tough. I’m either stupid or slow… and I cannot decide which. Either way, seems I keep getting caught, these just happen to be from some wolves I was lucky enough to run into.”

“We all get caught eventually, John, I guess the trick is to decide by who.” Dutch didn’t skip a beat, not moving his gaze from John for the entirety of their conversation. John did face Dutch at that, not able to hide the questionable look he gave.

“Seems like you’ve been getting caught by a few things. Not just wolves or knives.”

Both Sadie and Charles now fixed their attention on Dutch, too.

Dutch cleared his throat, “anyways, I won’t keep you. Good job on getting the supplies.”

John dropped his gaze on one of the crates of supplies, not daring to follow his attention after Dutch when he departed their conversation.

“What the hell was that about?” Sadie said once it was just the three of them again.

“I don’t know.” John replied shorty, still avoiding anyone’s eyes. For a split second, he could see Charles and Sadie share a look before he picked up the crate and quickly left for the safety of the med wagon. When he was alone, he placed the crate down and let out a shaky breath. He noticed his hands trembling, moving them to clench his arms as he crossed them so they might stop.

He didn’t know what Dutch meant by what he had said to John, but it deeply unsettled him anyway. What scared him even more was the fact that Dutch didn’t feel the need to limit these conversations to be between only the two of them anymore. Not knowing how to react when targeted so publicly in front of Sadie and Charles.

As he idly stood there, John came to the conclusion that he needed to have some space between himself and the camp for a while. Rushing back to his tent, he gathered a few things to make the long awaited trip to town. Knowing a few days in Valentine would do him some good to clear his head and keep him preoccupied with the lead he’d found there earlier.

With his satchel full and his mind set, he planned to head out first thing in the morning, this time with no distractions.

[pecavae]

Office Visit (M) ft. Yoongi

Yoongi x Reader Smut/Fluff/Light Angst

A/N: I was not expecting it to turn out the way it did. Honestly though the end turns super fluffy (beware) but hey I can dream can’t I. Anyways Hope you enjoy! ^.^

Warning: Dirty Talk, Oral,  Office Sex

Word Count: 3.5K

You nibble on your finger nervously, contemplating whether or not you should interrupt him with a text, knowing well Yoongi didn't like to be disturbed while he worked. It's been twelve days! You tell yourself. Deep down you know he's been busy with work but you can't help yourself at this point. Solos aren't cutting anymore as your body begins to yearn for your boyfriend's attention.

You stare intently at your phone screen, your eyes focusing on the contact name that read Yoongi. You chew the inside of your cheek and your fingers begin moving at their own accord in a brisk yet very hopeful attempt.. (10:39) I miss you, can you come over? (10:41) Not tonight baby girl. Working. You pout at the screen in disappointment sighing loudly and the noise echoes through your empty apartment. You really did miss him, so much your heart would hurt at the thought of not being able to see him. Feeling that pestering bubbling pain begin to rise inside but you didn’t want deal with it, so instead you head for the kitchen and pour yourself a large glass of Roscato. You sat near the fire place hoping it'd bring some sort of comfort to you as you ran your thumb across the top of the wine glass. Your mind began wondering back to the times you had together. Yoongi was a great boyfriend, you both bonded deeply over shared interests including music, which was actually how you two started talking. It was a small party among mutuals. One of your close friends Jin was playing the guitar, he'd somehow convinced you to show up at the party but you immediately felt out of place thinking you didn't fit in with the obvious wealthy people Jin had befriended while going to a top University. They all sipped champagne and talked amongst only themselves, but still, you enjoyed listening to Jin play but you kept getting distracted by the women whispering things to each other while staring right at you, trying to decide whether or not you were worthy enough to talk to. Rolling your eyes you stood near where Jin was playing and a guy dressed in all black, with hair to match, caught your eye as he too listened to your talented friend play. "He's gotten good." He said smiling softly as he turned to look at you. "You know Jin?" Surprised you took a glance at his face. His perfect milky skin contrasted the black so well as his small sharp eyes studied your face with slight amusement. "Of course I do, that crazy bastard and I were roommates. We used to go down town and play for bars." He kept his gaze on Jin but when he glanced at you, his lips would turn upwards in a cute boyish smile with a hint of mischievousness. "You played?" "Piano." "Were you two any good?" You kept your eyes on his face captivated by his small cat-like eyes, every sharp yet soft feature had you in awe. He gave a breathy laugh and looked down nostalgically. " I guess. We’d use the money we earned and get shitfaced drunk afterwards." You giggled loudly at this and catching the way his eyes had become fixated on your mouth. You intentionally licked your lips and tried to suppress a smile by biting your lower lip. "I'm Yoongi by the way." "I'm (Y/N)." After that you both kept talking; he'd bring you a couple of drinks as you'd discuss your college life and he mentioned he had majored in business to eventually take over the family company. You didn't plan on things escalating that night but somehow you ended up fucking in the back of his black Jeep Commander. He asked for your number and soon after began dating.

 You'd been dating for three years now. You were inseparable at first, fucking everywhere you could. Bathrooms, closets, his office. He was exceptional when it came to sex, never disappointing you. He once ate you out for what seemed like hours bringing you to an orgasm over and over again. But then the fucking slowed as he became more and more consumed by his work. He'd work late and come home exhausted. Now it was a rare occasion that he would come over to your apartment late at night and wake you just to fuck, and you loved it. Like all the pent up frustrations caused from work became too much and he would just release his stress. You could momentarily feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders because he could finally relax with you being there with him.The mere memory of it made you press your thighs together and let out a sad moan. Afterwards Yoongi would tend to you sweetly and cuddle which was an even more rare and treasured thing for you now. He'd make love to you like no one else ever had. You loved him. So much it scared you sometimes. 

By the fourth glass of wine you get an idea. You head for your closet and pull out a black lingerie set you had bought for Yoongi a couple of weeks back for Valentine's Day but when he had an emergency flight to Seoul your surprise had to be postponed. You let your hair down, letting it flow naturally and opted for minimal make-up, just like he liked it. You put on a knee-length beige coat over yourself and you down your glass of wine for an extra boost of confidence. You look at your-self in the mirror and hope he likes your unexpected visit. But with Yoongi you learned to always expect the unexpected when it came to him. You call for a taxi to take you to his office building where he'd spend days on end working on important business deals. Hence why you rarely saw him for periods of time. The building was pretty much empty with the exception of a few workers having to pull all-nighters to meet their boss's deadline. Thankfully minimal glances are cast towards you and you make your way through the building as unnoticeable as you could possibly make yourself--your heels weren't exactly helping with that though. You get on the elevator and it carries you to the top floor where his office was. Your pounding heart and edging nerves were clear indication of you getting more and more excited the closer you got to his office. The anticipation was killer. You start nibbling on your fingers again as the elevator nears its stop. As soon as you get off however, you immediately hear his voice down the hall. He sounds upset and from what you can make out from outside the door he's on the phone with someone and he's obviously not happy with what the person on the opposite line has to say. Crap maybe this wasn't a good idea. Your hand somehow finds itself on the door handle before you can hesitate further and you open the door as quietly as you could. 

He's standing, facing the large window that overlooks the city, his voice curt and low; he was really upset. A flashback enters your mind as you recall him fucking you against that very window, making sure you screamed loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. Fuck you missed those days. You briefly wonder if he'd ever repeat that night with you. Oh how'd you be more than compliant in said case. Your breath hitches as your brought back to the present. Your eyes start at his back as the tight black button up stretches over his shoulders and arms. Fitting him like a glove. Black had always been Yoongi’s color. Your eyes begin to wonder down to the evident curvature of his small ass. You bite your lip as you watch him. Fuck how can you still be this turned on by him after all this time and when he's not even looking at you? The sound of his low growly voice excites you and you can't help your hand as it travels down to your covered pussy leaning against the door frame for support. Maybe it was the wine not making you not think straight because you don't measure the consequences of doing this with not only him not knowing but having the door slightly open as well. Any one coming off of the elevator would be able to see you. The idea of this being super risky and not knowing how he will react turns you on beyond belief.  You're too busy focusing on your body starting to buzz slightly and your explicit imagination running wild that you close your eyes and don't hear him end his call. "(Y/N)?" Your eyes flash open and you see him staring at you. You try to collect yourself, leaning off the door frame. "Y-Yoongi, I-" You stammer as you search for an explanation. "What are you doing here?" His brows furrow slightly and you stare down at your fidgeting fingers. "I uh, missed you and I wanted to come see you." "I told you I was working." His voice sounds calm. "I know, I just...I wanted to see you." His eyebrow cocks up and his eyes travel up and down your body, inspecting you. "What were you doing?" He asks and you feel your face getting red hot. You look up at him and notice his serious face but you see a distinct lustful look in his eyes daring you to tell him exactly what you were doing and you feel a slight tingle in your lower stomach. Of course he looked beautiful, he always did, you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the unfairness as well as the frustrating fact that you wanted him so badly. You bite you bottom lip and pout slightly "Im sorry baby, I just really needed to see you. He continued to stare at you, his small lips twitching at the corner. He walked casually to his chair and sat down leaning on one hand while the top of his finger lightly slid over his lips from left to right, like he was considering you, amusement in his eyes. "Why don't you close that door and come closer." He motions with his index finger. You do as he says and near his desk slowly as he watches your every movement like a hawk. "Show me what it was you were doing." "Here?" Your eyes widen slighlty. "Yes. Here. You obviously had no problem coming here while I was working. I want you to show me why you wanted to see me." He smirks devilishly. You bite your lip trying to hide a shy smile creeping up your lips. You unbutton your coat and drop it over your shoulders letting it collect at your feet. You're rewarded by a sharp hiss that comes from Yoongi's lips and you pear at him through your eyelashes. You see him shift slightly in his chair but other than that he seems calm except his eyes were piercing through you, skimming your body up and down and you feel your skin burn up despite the chill air of his office. You know he's loving this. "You look lovely baby." "I bought this for you." you say innocently, "Is that right?" "I couldn't stop thinking about you, I missed you so much." You say running your hands over your shoulders and down your chest. "What were you thinking about?" "I was thinking about your mouth on me, your hands touching my skin but mostly, I think about how your cock feels inside me." His eyes widen momentarily but he hums in approval. He moves his hand down his body and grips himself over his tight black pants. "You want my cock baby? Is that that what you want?" You nod innocently while wetting your lips and you can feel your self practically dripping. "Come sit on my lap then." You breathe heavily and go around his desk to where he sat. Tucking your hair behind one ear as you bring your leg over his lap and straddle him. Being this close to him again makes your heart pound as his amazing scent envelops you, driving you wild as all your senses focus on him alone. He looks at your face and brings a hand to your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek and along your collarbone. You close your eyes at the feeling of his touch sending electricity shooting down to your core. "Have you been a good girl without me." You nod slowly, your eyes still closed. "Did you touch yourself?" "Only at the thought of you." You grind slightly in his lap and grin internally at the hardness that greets your pussy. "I'd come so hard every time, but i'd always wish you were there to make me come even harder again." He smirks devilishly at you and bites his bottom lip hard and your insides tighten as his eyes drop to your chest. The hand he had resting on your neck slid down to your breasts agonizingly slow as he began pulling the thin lace down with his fingertips exposing you hardened nipple. He ran his tongue on his bottom lip as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger causing you to whimper lightly and making him look up at you. "You're so beautiful baby." He whispers before he leans in and takes the sensitive bud between his lips, flicking at it with his tongue, making you twitch. You bring your fingers up to his hair fisting it lightly and tugging at it upwards as you lean down to kiss his neck knowing he'd like it. A small low moan makes his throat vibrate and you feel it on your mouth. His fingertips slide up your spine to the nape of your neck and grabs the hair, pulling it gently. "Sit up for me." You stand up as he slides his chair under you then lifts your ass onto his desk and he sits back down lifting your legs and placing them on the arm rests. He grips a thigh with each hand making you spread wider as he stares at your soaked panties bringing up his middle finger and rubbing small circles at your center. Supporting yourself on your hands you tilt your head back and half moan half sigh through your nose. "I love how easy you get wet for me baby." You hum approvingly. "Always." His fingers drag your wet panties down your legs. He wastes no time as he digs into your center. His tongue lapping up your juices, flattening it as it travels up and down your slit. He takes your clit into his mouth taking turns licking and sucking at it. He immediately inserts two fingers in you and begins pumping them in and out slowly. "Ah fuck Yoongi." He curls his fingers up and makes scissoring motions grazing your g-spot. Moaning into you he to sending vibrations into your lower belly. "F-uck ah" You can't get yourself to form coherent words only becoming a moaning mess. He begins pumping in and out quickly with his fingers slightly hooked upwards.

Your orgasm hits you out of no where like a truck and you scream Yoongi's name gripping his hair as you buck your body wildly. He flattens his tongue letting you ride out your orgasm with his face. Exhausted from your unexpected orgasm, you collapse back onto the desk breathing hard as Yoongi stands and begins unbuckling his belt. You open your eyes and look at his face glistening with your arousal that he doesn't bother wiping off while sucking you off of his fingers. He looks down and pumps himself a few times coating himself with you and connects his body with yours, and in one swift movement he’s lodged himself in you. The stretch feels amazing and you both groan loudly. "Shit baby you feel so good.." He begins moving into you slowly in circles because your still too sensitive from your previous high. You moan contently at the feeling of his hands caressing your body, you lift your back up allowing him to unclasp your lace bra leaving your chest completely exposed to him. "God you're perfect." He leans down to kiss you and you openly kiss him back. You've grown accustomed to the taste of your arousal and so you focus on Yoongi's delicious taste and smell that you could never get enough of. He starts picking up speed making your moans increase, urging him to go faster. He bottoms out and you begin to hear the sound of skin on skin as he lets out breathy moans staring at you with half-lidded eyes. You wrap you legs around his waist and your arms around his back digging your nails into his soft flesh. Your jaw is open, both of you breathing rapidly as he drills into you while staring into your eyes. You cup his face wiping his sweaty bangs off to the side. "I really did miss you." "I know baby trust me I did too." He smiles at you for a moment but his face scrunches up when you squeeze your walls around him. "Fuck." "You like that?" You bite your lip innocently. "Fuck baby girl you know I do." You giggle but that too turns into a moan when he picks up full speed in you. "Oh fuck. Fuck Yoongi!" You feel yourself building up and because Yoongi knew your body so well by now he took his thumb between your two bodies to your clit and starting rubbing at it rapidly, knowing this would tip you over the edge faster. Your high quickly catches up to you and you come around him and he buries himself in you as he too comes with you. His body drops on top of you and you wrap your arms around him holding him tightly. Your bodies sweaty an sticky but neither of you care as your breathing begins to regulate and he lifts his head to lean his forehead onto yours. He kisses you, softly this time, and you enjoy your lips lightly brushing one another. He breaks away and you gaze up at him and smile blissfully but he averts your gaze and looks to the side, making you frown, "Yoongi?" He looks back at you with furrowed brows. "Baby I need you to know something." "What? What is it?" Your on hyperfocus trying to study his face. "I love you (Y/N) you know that right?" You sit up and he buckles his pants while standing between your legs. "Of course I know that, I love you too but... Yoongi baby what's wrong?" "Its the company, its going to merge with another big Japanese corporation." "But isn't that good?" "Yeah it's great actually, merging with this corporation can raise our stock value by a lot." "But?" You cock your head slightly searching his eyes. "We're gonna base in Tokyo." "Oh, Tokyo wow, thats...great." You're happy for him, you really are but your trying desperately to not think about how far he will be from you. You hardly see eachother now, now adding more than half a thousand miles in between. 

He brings your coat over to you and you slide your arms in trying not to solemn the mood. "I know it's far and it's a big move...Which is why I wanted to ask you to come with me." Your eyes widen and your brows shoot up in surprise. "What?" "(Y/N)..." He shifts backwards before bending down on one knee. "Yoongi-" Your utter shock refrains you from saying anything else as your jaw opens and closes slightly. He brings his hand up to his neck and rubs at it. "(Y/N), I'm uh, not very good with words, and I know this is a lot for you... But, if there's one thing I want most in this world, it's you. You make me happy (Y/N), I want you to be with me, and... Well, I hope you'd like to be with me too so, will you marry me?" "Yoongi I-I, are you sure?" "More than anything." He nods. Your mind wonders a million miles per hour and you feel like you have to pinch yourself to wake yourself up from this dream. Marriage? Tokyo? Yoongi?...Yoongi. Your face splits into a wide grin and your feel tears at the corner of your eyes as your heart swells. "Yes. Yes of course i'll marry you!" You laugh as you stand and open your arms wide and he lifts himself up, picking you up and twirling you around once as you shriek in excitement. He looks at you and gives you the most precious of gummy smiles that you can't help but kiss him. "When is the company merging?" You ask him with your arms still wrapped around his neck and his hands resting on your waist. "By the end of the month." "So soon!" "Yeah." He says giving a sideways smile. "Wow so, what do we do now?" "I guess, we should start planning our trip soon and...we have tell our parents." You eyes widen and your arms fall to his forearms. "Oh...Shit you’re right." You raise your eyebrows at him and give a nervous smile. "Yup." He rubs his neck again and returns the nervous smile. "It'll be fine I'm sure. You smile warmly at him and give him a soft kiss  reassuringly. “I gotta go baby it’s late.” grabbing your bag off the floor before walking over to his door. "You'll come home after work?" "Definitely." He smiles mischievously and you smile back. You turn to walk out before he says. "I love you (Y/N and L/N)." You grin widely and turn to face him. "And I love you Min Yoongi."

[sauskerey]

Ashes

Warnings: needle, stalking, and nothing else really lol.

Info: reader is 18 and goes to UA high school. Quirk is lightning and they can shoot powerful purple bolts of lightning from any part of their body but has a tendency to overheat.

A week had passed and that endless pit of nausea still filled your stomach. Even sleeping seemed hard now a days. Your dreams had been filled with green ominous lightning that you felt the need to run from, even though lightning was your own quirk. Walking home you felt like eyes were watching every step you took and everywhere you went, you couldn’t help but notice the scent of something burnt. And school was the worst of it. You should feel safe there right? With so many hero’s and kids of good will, right? But the feeling grew worse every time you stepped foot into your class and when the bell rang you were the first one out the door. You didn’t know the exact source of it, until he spoke to you.

You were on your way back home from school when you felt a slight tap on your shoulder. Being the paranoid bastard you were, you quickly flipped around into your fighting stance only to be met with a soft pair of green eyes.

“Hey Y/N!” He exclaimed with a smile. You felt your stomach lurch.

“Oh, hey Midorya”, you exhaled a sigh of relief and dropped your stance, but you never fully dropped your guard.

“I was wondering if I could use your phone real quick to call my mom.”

“Oh yeah that’s fine... Here ya go.”

“Thank you!” He walked a bit off and started to dial. Your stomach turned with every button he pressed.

Come on Y/N, he’s only a first year... I don’t know why your so paranoid for. If anything, he should be the person you feel safest around.

But you weren’t. You always got a bad feeling from him.

He walked back over to you and handed your phone back with a sigh.

“No answer, but thanks anyways!” With a slight smile and nod you walked off. A million questions zoomed through your head as you walked home, but with little to no answers.

Now you sat on your bed replaying that scenario over and over again until your head hurt. Why him? Of all people to get a bad vibe from, why him? The nicest kid in UA.

No. You’re overreacting. It’s fine, he’s fine.

With a sigh, you glanced at the clock. 8:34 pm. You hopped from your spot and got ready for bed, too tired to study after today.

You got settled into bed and set your alarms for the morning.

You’ll be okay.

*Ding* you slowly open your eyes and glance at your clock. 12:48 am. You reach for your phone and look at the text from the unknown number. Your heart stops.

UNKNOWN:

Your so beautiful when you sleep. Next time make sure to lock your doors doll.

You jump out of bed and quickly activate your quirk. All sleepiness seemingly disappears from your body as electricity runs through your body. Your eyes shift to a glowing purple and your limbs start to heat up. You carefully walk around your house not wanting to wake your parents. You creep downstairs to find the front door ajar. You run outside to try and see if anyone is near by, but it’s only you and silence. The soft glow of the moon could only illuminate so much for you to see. Breathing heavily, you deactivate your quirk and walk back inside, this time, sure to lock the doors and every window downstairs. You silently tread upstairs to your room and sit on your bed unable to sleep again.

Yeah, completely safe.

It felt like days until the sun rose again. You skipped breakfast, unable to eat from last nights event.

At school, the nausea only escalated further and no matter how tired you were, you never once dared to close your eyes. You knew who had sent that text but you were too quick to deny it.

He can’t be a threat. If anything he might just be your ally.

Arguementing thoughts plagued your mind all day long. You seemed to jog instead of walk home this time, not wanting to run into him once more.

Night seemed to come too quick as the sun fell and the moon rose to take its place. You made sure to lock every single door and window until you were sure nothing could come in. After settling into bed and doing your usual routine, you went to your window to close your blinds when you saw him. Standing right on the sidewalk across from your house. Except he looked taller and skinnier than usual. His whole body was covered from head to toe in black.

He slowly raised a phone in the air and waved it at you.

*ding* you raced to grab your phone and came back to watch him.

UNKNOWN:

Good job with the doors doll, but I never took you for someone to be so serious.

You glared at your screen then back at the stranger.

This wasn’t deku...

Y/N:

What do you want.

The stranger looked to their phone and began to type.

UNKNOWN:

I want you doll.

Your heart stopped and the nausea worsened. You began to type once more.

Y/N:

First of all no, and second of all who are you.

The stranger looked to their phone and seemed to laugh.

UNKNOWN:

Why don’t you come down and find out.

You threw your phone on the bed and watched as he sat on the curb and watched you right back. After a while of staring, you scoffed and grabbed your metal bat heading for downstairs.

When you opened the front door, you saw that the stranger had moved closer to your house, now right on your front sidewalk. As you carefully walked towards them, you activated your quirk making your body heat up and eyes glow. When you were only a few feet from them you stopped and threw the bat on your shoulder feeling the electricity coursing through it and your veins.

“Alright, what do you want.” You said as aggressively as possible.

“You already know what I want~” His voice was deep and smooth. He slowly removed his Hood and mask to reveal a scared man with feverishly blue eyes. Your breath hitched and you jumped into your fighting stance as you recognized him within an instant. It was dabi. He lazily grinned at you and took a step closer, making you jump three steps back.

“Stay away. I know what you are.” You said pointing the bat at his face.

“I think you mean who doll~”

“No. You’re no human, you’re a killing machine, that’s all your good for.”

“Awww is that what they taught you in school? What a shame~”

“It’s what I’ve seen in the news doll. Now go away before I blow your ass to pieces.” You charged up your arm holding the bat, ready to fire.

“Oh I don’t think you wanna do that, doll.” He pulled an explosion trigger from his pocket and waved it in front of him with a menacing grin.

“One click of this and your whole block goes kaboom.”

Fuck. You quickly dropped the bat and deactivated your quirk, raising your hands in the air.

“Okay, okay, what do you want?” You ask panicked.

“I’ve already told you. Twice. I don’t like repeating myself. Come with me and your neighborhood will be safe.”

“And how do I know your not lying.”

“You don’t. But wanna find out?” His finger threateningly hovered over the trigger.

“Fine, I’ll go. But if you so much as hurt my family or anyone here I will blow you to shreds.” He smiled and motioned for you to come to him. You slowly walked towards him and let him pull you into a cripplingly tight hug. The smell of burnt flesh ran deep in his clothes.

He quickly pulled a needle from his sleeve and stabbed your neck, making sure to empty the whole syringe. Instead of falling asleep like you expected, your body fell weak and numb into his. He carried you out into the middle of the street and lay you on your side facing your house. He sat behind you and started to draw circles on your back with his fingers.

“I‘ve had my eyes on you for a while now ya know?~” you heard him shuffle around a little before he continued.

“I knew there was no way you’d ever come willingly, so I had to make a plan, and what better plan than threaten you. Except what would I threaten you with? And then it hit me one day. You have no friends from what I’ve seen and your parents are the only ones who truly care for you, so I took it upon me to place 500 grams of C4 around your house while you were gone. I didn’t actually do the whole block, but I needed you to believe it cause you know, you being a future hero and what not. But then I realized something even more painful.” He paused and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. “You’d never love me as long as you had other people to love...” Your heart stopped knowing what was coming next.

“So I’m going to take them out of the equation to make it easier for you.” And with a click of a button, your whole house was blown to bits. Plumes of smoke and fire funneled into the air. A blood curdling cry escaped your mouth as tears streamed down the side of your face.

“And even better, now I leave it to you. With nobody to love and no more friends, I believe you should turn to me.” He stood up and started to walk off.

“What makes you think I’ll ever go with you,” you cry as you look up after him. He turned his head back at you with an evil grin painted on his scared lips.

“Because if you don’t I’ll go after everyone in your family. Next is your grandparents, then maybe your aunts and uncles who live in the next town over. And if you ever try to settle down or meet anyone new, I’ll know and kill them too. You’ll never have a happy life without me, cause I’ll be all you’ll ever have doll. And no matter how much you run, I’ll follow you forever.” With that, he left you on the street unable to move and unable to think, watching your house burn down to ashes.

[themockingcrows]

Two Fates, Two Kingdoms Ch. 12: Fading Moonlight

AO3 Mirror [X] This chapter is NSFW

Problems, and troubles, are like fire. Fires begin first as small embers casting warmth and attention grabbing light from a distance, easy to talk down the intensity of. It's just a spark, just a tiny flame, so easy to ignore until it's climbing the walls in a horrific inferno. Dave and John knew they were balancing over a pit of lava, but neither seemed to notice the flame licking the very tightrope upon which they walked.

     Another day of storms froze the outside of the eastern half of the castle with a solid sheen of ice, spurred on by the sharp winds that haunted the land, driving it into the very cracks of the mortar. The walls crackled gently if one held their breath and listened close enough, struggling, wanting to drop the stones apart, expanding cracks that would need to be filled again come spring. Patches of ice like dissected diamonds clung to the window panes of John's room, and made opening the window at all a struggle as it began to affect the latch and hinges. Dave stopped trying to open it up after it gave a sickly groan, worried it would break apart in his hands and leave them with a storm blowing into an opening that couldn't be blocked.

    Some was wonderful, too much was just that: too much.

    John was more up and about today, color in his cheeks and eyes finally a little more bright. He said it was because of the sound of the wind, or the food, or the sharp tea that had started to be passed along with the breakfasts Dave brought up from the kitchens each morning. Other times, like now, the heir attributed his miraculous spark of energy and normality to Dave himself.

    The Dersite had woken early with him in the dim light from the dying fire, and instead of immediately rising to put another log on and stoke it higher, he cuddled close seeking kisses and soft touches. They'd embraced and thrilled in the rush of lazy, half awake presses of lips to skin after Dave climbed atop John's body and perched on his stomach to lean easier. John's hands found his hips and began to knead fondly before slipping down further to cup his ass greedily, then slipping even lower to trail along the backs of his thighs, tracing their outline beneath the fabric of his trousers. He'd finally put on the last bit of weight he was missing, muscle and sharp angled bone given a soft covering of flesh at the very edges, smoothing him down, making him less pointy. Gone were the days of John being sure he'd grate himself on Dave's ribs if he moved just so, and here were the days of having more to playfully grab at during mornings such as this.

    “You're in a bright mood today, my moon,” John murmured against Dave's lips, sighing and lifting his chin when the Dersite jingled softly and moved his kisses lower along the heir's throat and the upper hem of his night shirt. “I take it the fun time with Kanaya you said you had is still lightening everything?”

    “You don't know the half of it,” Dave chuckled. “It's like night and day now. I don't feel that worried anymore, it was nice to get a reality check from her.”

    “Any time you're together chatting you come back in such a sunny mood, I fear you'll get sun burnt,” John joked, reaching his left hand up to stroke at the side of Dave's face instead.

    “Oh, as if I'm not dazzling while I'm here any time?” Dave asked, buzzing his lips in a wet raspberry against John's nape, making him flail and laugh reflexively. “You light up my world plenty enough, I just.. need to get some of the not so sunny things out sometimes.”

    “Things you can't tell me?” John asked. “I'd hope you feel comfortable telling me anything.. If not, I'll need to work on that a bit.” The sincere tone and the worried look to the edge of his eyes made Dave's heart clench before he kissed him directly once more.

    “No, no. There are a few things I could tell but that wouldn't make sense to you. ..Kanaya's been through some of the same things, she understands, and that helps a good deal. I'll still tell you things, but I need this John.”

    “Shhh, relax, I'm not jealous and I'd not dream of interrupting whatever strange Alternian thing she's gotten you tangled in if it makes you this happy. I was getting worried lately, all things considered. ..There's been a lot happening since you arrived, and sometimes your eyes get this far off look,” John admitted, grip tightening at Dave's hip as he grunted and sat more upright before hugging his lover tightly. “I'll listen whenever you need it, and I'll do my best to understand and help. ..I love you, Dave. I want only what will make you happy and keep you safe.”

    “I know,” Dave promised. “When I can find the right words, I'll explain as well. But for now, just knowing that is good.”

    “We're both wide awake now,” John said, nipping the top of Dave's ear before being a nuisance at the side of his head, nuzzling and whuffling like a sleepy puppy would. “How about you snag breakfast, and we'll take a look through that Skaian book and see how far we can get this time? I don't think I have any plans for the day still, unless word comes for a family meal.”

    Back came the slight apprehension to Dave's features, but instead of saying a word about it, Dave nodded in agreement. Yes, food and drink would be good, then they could safely cuddle up and read. It would be just fine, just like he and Kanaya had talked about. He just needed to stick near the guards, and keep his chin up and ignore the bad, because it wouldn't be forever, and it wasn't every single person he saw. A promise of an edible reward for his labors was tantalizing enough even with the risk of running into an ill tempered member of staff.

    “..It's back again,” John pointed out, brows furrowing. “The look on your face. Is there a problem with getting breakfast?”

    “Huh? Oh! No, no, there's no problem getting breakfast. I enjoy the walk actually, wakes me up more, gets me out in the cooler air for a while, you know that.”

    “I mentioned it and you got this worried look on your face,” John pointed out. “..Is there problems still, with the others?”

    “...Yes.”

    “Just more of the same?”

    “Louder and more aggressive, but. Yes, more of the same.”

    “Has anyone laid hands on you,” John asked, reaching up to touch at the pendant he'd given Dave before, lifting it up to toy with the clearish center that bore his crest. “Because this SHOULD be giving people pause. There's already been words in the past, do there need to be more? They're not to lay a hand on you, you're under my protection.”

    “Nothing I can't handle. Don't worry too much on it, John, stepping in will only make it even worse. They're already mad because a slave is being given special treatment that most of them will never have themselves, and because of who and what I am. More special treatment is just going to make things worse, and I don't want people leering at you as well for doting on me where others can see,” Dave insisted. “I'm just going to ignore it. If I don't escalate, it won't escalate, and they'll probably get bored eventually enough. ...I can't escalate it anyway, or really fight in this position. But you know what I mean,” Dave said seriously.

    Though John looked upset, he nodded a bit.

    “..As you wish then, love. But if you need help, or for any reason need me or someone else to step in, jus-”

    “Just tell you and others, and I'll get the help. Yes. I know. I've got this,” Dave said hurriedly, leaning forward to kiss John soundly on the mouth once more to shoosh him and force the subject to be dropped. It felt strange talking about it before, and felt strange now, and he had the distinct feeling his complaints were just whining. 'Wah, wah, the house staff doesn't like me.' 'Wah, wah, I can't handle some jeering without feeling cornered.' 'Wah, wah, I can't handle being knocked around a bit, I'm somehow too delicate now.'

    Ridiculous. He felt foolish for even bringing it up and dwelling on it so much.

    “I'm going to go get breakfast now. Do you want anything specific, aside from what I'll be bringing up?” Dave asked, crawling out of the covers and going to stoke the fire for John, brightening the room's other lights as he wandered around to find his cloak and shoes while the heir sat up and stretched.

    “..Hm. I'd love some salted pork if you can manage a bit, I've got a craving. Oh, and maybe some extra honey to go with the tea? That blend lately is wonderful, but it really needs a little.. something,” John mused, crawling tentatively out of the den of blankets to hunt down more layers, bundling up thoroughly so he could move to the next room and begin his morning.

    “Of course. I'll see what I can do,” Dave said. Acting on orders was a quick way of getting people to take him seriously, or to back off when needed. Especially when they could be backed up immediately by a guard if he went to ask questions. No special treatment here: just a Dersite scrambling to provide what he'd been told to provide, far as anyone else needed to know or care.

    With a parting gift of a swift slap to John's ass sharp enough to make the man yip in surprise, and hopefully lighten up, Dave darted out of the room and to the hallway. ..Breathe deep. Just needed to do like they'd said. Stick near the guards when he could, ignore the talk, deal with the shoves or pushes or trips, don't react. Don't fight. It's what they'd want, and he doesn't want to get in trouble in a way that not even John could save him from. If he worked fast, it wouldn't be that big of a deal anyway, right?

    ...Maybe he'd start asking John to bear the cold with him and tag along to get food. If Dave himself carried the tray, it was still him doing the labor. Right? No need for suspicion then!

    Steeling himself, Dave walked through the areas most patrolled by guards, not minding the looks of caution or distrust on their faces. He could handle distrust, and of all the people working in the castle it was guards he and John had specifically convinced of Dave's affinity for cannibalism in the past, even if it was obviously just a wild rumor. Guards had a reason to watch him closely, and knew the orders from above: keep him in one piece. He may have been of importance in Derse, but here he was just an expensive showpiece that needed to be kept mostly in one piece.

    The barren stretch of corridors and stairwells was what made Dave most anxious. Not a soul walked them for the most part, open and frigid save for the occasional person passing through on their way to another part of the castle. He made eye contact with a woman toting a mop and bucket, but quickly looked away when her expression turned into a sour sneer. Alright. No looking, then. Let her carry her mop and bucket to wherever the hell she was working, and let her be angry THERE.

    Dave's hopes of Jane being among those in the kitchen was dashed upon his arrival, as were the hopes of a quick and simple obtaining of food. It took four tries to get someone to respond to his inquiries about the missing tray, and another two to remind them that he was supposed to get a small serving as well for this meal to bring up to the bedchamber, specifically under his Master's orders. Not to mention the extra requests, the specific wants John had added on.

    “I'm supposed to bring this to him while it's still hot,” Dave said. “He's going to be very unhappy if it's all cold by the time I'm able to take this tray back up to him. Why wasn't all of this ready? Aren't the other royals meals delivered around this time?”

    “And? Should have walked faster, then, you little Dersian rat. It's no fault of ours.”

    “..What time should I arrive in the mornings to ensure his tray is ready then,” Dave asked. “Ready and full of hot food still, I mean.”

    No answers were given, but at his wheedling and needling, Dave eventually obtained everything and gave a proper bow before taking up his burden and heading outside to the passing tune of the same ridicule he'd heard before. This time for copping an attitude, trying to act like something he never would be again, trying to give the impression of power he was only living in the shadow of. The whore comments didn't come from the kitchen, thankfully.

    They came from the normally vacant expanse of hall near the stairwells, and Dave's knuckles went white on his tray as the leering people came closer to him to get in his face as he walked.

    “Where you going in such a hurry, Dersite?” one young man said, stepping in front of him so abruptly that Dave's grip on the tray wavered and he wobbled for a moment to correct it and save it all from spilling to the ground. From how he was dressed beneath his cloak, Dave was fairly sure he was one of the men from the stable. To his right was a man Dave knew was a room servant, and with a grimace, realized it was someone he recognized a bit. This man had been in John's chambers before, had seen them cuddled up, had seen how Dave would lay across John's lap like a blanket when he was up in his chair reading. Had most likely seen far more than he could count since winter came and they had gotten even more relaxed behind closed doors.

    “My Master is waiting for his breakfast, and if it gets cold I'll be in trouble and he'll be displeased,” Dave said simply, making for the stairs. Another lunge, another startle, and Dave stepped back a few paces. He adjusted his stance cautiously, trying to keep an eye on where both of these men were and what their hands were doing. What their feet were doing. How they were moving in relation to his own position as if they were armed on the field of battle. He sensed danger, and there was nobody around to give him the help that they kept saying was always there should he ask.

    No source, no help to be given. Just his fucking luck.

    “Trouble, huh? What, you'll have to wait an extra few minutes before being coddled? Or will you be without your daily blood?” the stable hand asked, arms crossed off to the side as the room servant continued to stand in Dave's way, trying to urge him back away from the stairs and not enjoying the resistance he was getting for his efforts. “Or would it be more fitting for something like you? Strung up and beat for a while till you learn your place again?”

    “Please,” said the servant. “As if the heir would do anything like that to his favorite whore. He hasn't shared his quarters with a single maid since you turned up, and everyone knows why. It's disgusting. You're probably getting off on this right now, aren't you. Being called out for what you are. What've you got to say for yourself, beast?”

    “...Move,” Dave said, voice even and firm. Don't fall for the bait, don't fight, don't react. Just get back to where the guards are, and it would all be fine. He'd have John start accompanying him on his treks again for a while. Or maybe forever. The voices and looks were easier to bear when he wasn't alone like this with his hands full.

    “Move? Are you giving ME an order? Me? Why should I listen to a slave? I don't care what you've been hearing from that lunatic royal, and I don't care what you were before. You're in chains, and you'd best start acting like it instead of trying to boss around someone above you,” the servant said, leaning forward to get his point across even more directly, not fearing the rumor of Dave's bite. Their sizes were different enough and the threat of punishment for this was so far away it didn't matter while there were no witnesses. If anything, it fueled his bravado even more.

    “Fine then, don't move. I can do it,” Dave said, stepping back further from the man's warm breath and angry face, only to dart to the side with his tray, making for the stairs again. Just needed to get up those and he'd at least be in sound range of a guard, needed to keep moving, he was almost to freedom and then this would be all over.

    He felt the foot connect with the front of his ankle solidly enough to leave a bruise, and grimaced as he wobbled, trying to lurch forward and catch the contents of the tray firmly enough that they'd not spill much from their containers. A hard stomp down caught his balance while the food and drink shifted wildly, but it didn't spill till the stable hand grabbed the back of his slim collar and yanked back. Feeling choked, Dave didn't bother trying to hold on tighter to the hope of keeping the tray stable and released the food as he reached up to grasp the front of his collar instead, sending the teapot falling to be smashed on the stone tile, flooding the ruined food and soaking their shoes in hot tea.

    Dave struggled, thrashing and trying to turtle his body forward to dislodge the grasp at his collar, grip tight and yanking forward to keep the pressure off his throat till the man released his grip and let him stumble forward. Cheap shots. Luridly cheap shots. He turned with a growl to face the two men who had managed to ruin what was originally going to be a good day, and let his stance slip into one more prepared to fight. Punishments be damned, Dave was not going to stand idly by and allow himself to be choked a second time by two chuckle heads in a fucking hallway. He wouldn't fight so much as defend himself, direct their force away enough to flee afterward if it came to it. Running alone, he felt, would not be wise.

    He wouldn't turn his back on these two again, if he had any choice about it.

    “What the fuck was THAT for!” Dave shouted. “I'm following orders same as you around here. Just because I'm wearing a damned collar doesn't mean the orders I'm following are any different than yours, and just because you're NOT wearing a collar doesn't mean you're any better than me. You're an absolute ass if your best hobby is heckling someone who can't defend themselves. I fear for your sweetheart, with as foul a mind and mouth as yours, and you'd do best to keep your damned hands to yourself!” he spat.

    That was apparently the magic words. Brows lifting and face going splotchy red with rage, the servant moved forward to shove Dave at the shoulders, the stable hand pushing from the other side to rebound him when he tried to catch his balance enough to shove back. Three men, two a shade under six feet tall and the third a little over five, were all struggling and shoving in the empty hallway, looking ready to exchange blows. Dave attempted to bite the stable hand's fingers when they reached for his collar again, earning a string of colorful curses, and the servant began to aim for Dave's cloak instead, wanting to use his size as an advantage to bag and lift the little wretch off his feet safely enough.

    “This is personal in a way you'd never understand while sitting pretty in the prince's pocket,” the man growled, trying to twist his grip for the best effect he could muster, nearly managing to get Dave off his feet before being interrupted.

    “What's all this about then?” came a sharp, authoritative voice from up the stairs. “I will not abide scrapping indoors, especially not with that one involved. All of you: step apart.,” it ordered. “I mean NOW,” it followed up, a sharp command in formal speech.

    With a click of his tongue, the stable hand backed off and to the side, crossing his arms and looking to the wall to avoid meeting eyes with anyone. The servant paled and glared at Dave before stepping away and stuffing his hands into his pockets, looking down at the ground. Still riled up and ready for a tussle, Dave turned towards the voice with readied fists and raised arms, pupils wide from the sudden spike of adrenaline.

    “Dersite. Heel,” Jake said, gesturing towards him and then to the floor as he continued to walk down the stairs, features drawn tight. “You two. Care to tell me what in the name of the sun is going on? It's far too cold and far too early for you all to be carrying on this way, and I know for a fact this one knows better than to scrap and tussle in our halls like some ill behaved dog. He's well trained, despite his appearance. Give me some answers I can believe.”

    At the command, Dave had dropped to all fours for a solid bow in one of the trails from the broken teapot, warm liquid seeping into his knees and face close to smashed shards of pottery, but holding the position. Jake could be trusted, he knew. This wasn't anything personal. If anything, this was important: he was being treated how people expected he'd be treated in public, and letting Dave respond accordingly. This wasn't special treatment to an observer, which was only making things better for him overall..

    “It's.. He was smart mouthing us,” the servant began, finally looking up as Jake came to a halt in front of them, standing beside Dave's prone form. He was dressed warmly as his siblings were, minimum two layers and a thick cloak in deep green clasped around his neck with the hood hanging down loose over his shoulders.

    “Yeah, we were going too slow on the stairs I guess and he started hollering at us and going crazy. Something about us trying to get him in trouble? Then he just want crazy, we had to hold him off to keep him from biting us,” added the stable hand.

    “Yeah! He went for our fingers!”

    Jake lifted a brow at their explanation and looked at the broken things all around the floor, before looking to Dave and nudging him gently with a foot to his narrow hip.

    “Dersite. Is this true? What were you doing out here before I arrived. I want to hear all of it,” Jake said, “and you know what will happen if I catch you lying to me, so you'd best be truthful.”

    “Fetching Master's breakfast, and the meal I'm allotted, as he wanted me fed while he ate,”Dave said without breaking position or looking up. It felt natural to be doing this, familiar, almost normal. After all that time practicing after capture, learning how to deal with commands to appease the trainers, suddenly getting new orders was a call back to what he'd been forcefully adapted to. A relief to a small, anxious part of his subconscious. “When I came for the stairs, these two began to talk at me, and then wouldn't move. I was tripped, and then they grabbed my collar. Everything broke. Then instead of letting me go to get a replacement or return to Master's quarters empty handed, they persisted. ...I was prepared to fight them to get away.”

    Jake watched Dave's back till he finished speaking, then looked to the men and crossed his arms.

    “He knows better than to lie to me, and thus far he's earned that trust and belief by being loyal to the crown. What's your comment to what he's told me?”

    “That he's a lying little rat trying to earn special favor with you just like the others,” the servant spat, only to straighten when Jake glared at him sharply.

    “That will be quite enough. You, report to Jade, tell her I sent you,” Jake said to the stable hand. “And you, to the laundress. I'm sure she'd love the extra assistance you'll be providing today. Look sharp now, boys, get moving, chop chop,” he added with a few sharp claps of his hands when they didn't move immediately, watching them go before slowly breathing out a sigh once he and Dave were alone again.

    It was like seeing something deflate, wilt inwardly, and Jake's rigid authoritarian edge gave way to something rumpled, tired, and soft at the edges.

    “You can get up now, Dave. Sorry about all that. Are you alright, you mentioned being choked,” he said, offering a hand down to help the small man to his feet, helping him dust away spare shards he'd encountered on the floor.

    “I'm alright, they didn't get me too bad, I reacted fast enough,” Dave said. “And.. it's fine. I understand. That's actually half of why they were after me, thinking I was getting all this special treatment and letting it go to my head. I've been having people talking behind me for some time now, this is just the first time they've.. done that.”

    Jake's lips pursed, and he hummed uncertainly. Well. That was an issue, wasn't it.. but how to even combat something like that sort of rumor or perception? Anything short of flogging the boy would be earning suspicion with a mindset like that, and even then it might not be believed. What a mess.

    “What were you doing here anyway?” Dave asked. “I haven't seen you anywhere in a while save for following along to family suppers every so often.”

    “I've still been busy. Or, well. Busy as one can be in the throes of winter squalor,” Jake chuckled. “Otherwise, I've been trying to make good use of my time and then accidentally spend a good deal of it daydreaming about spring thaw and taking my horse far out as I can to get some hunting in and some time to clear my head before Father comes home. Or even further. At the moment though, I was simply here for a snack since breakfast wasn't as filling as I'd hoped it would be.”

    Right. The king of Prospit would be returning to the castle soon enough, wouldn't he. Dave wasn't sure how well that would go thanks to how close he and John had become, but he would do his best to adjust, same as he would with anything else. What he COULD he really do?

    “Further, huh?” Dave asked as they began to walk. “How much further?”

    “To Skaia,” Jake admitted. “Or even to Derse's borders, where the skirmishes aren't at their thickest. Where it's quiet and the sky can't decide if it's night or day, and the land doesn't care which it is enough to sort which plants to favor. I'd like to go quite far, see just HOW far away I can go on my own with more horse, how long I can stay in one place on my own.”

    “It sounds like you just want out of Prospit,” Dave chuckled. “Careful, people will start thinking you're a sympathizer.”

    “Oh, let them. It's no mystery that I enjoy to travel, I enjoyed it much when I was younger, and now I'm of an age where a bit more freedom would be lovely if I were in any position to have it to myself,” Jake said. “I'd love to see the world. ...But between father, the war, and all the obligations I have to wade through here, I doubt I'll get much of a chance outside of books and my hunting trips.” He paused briefly, then grinned at Dave. “Would you mind telling me a bit of Derse? I'm sure you've regaled John with stories aplenty of your birthplace, but I've not gotten quite as much passed my way. It would do wonders for my temperament, I'm sure, to hear some tales directly from a Dersite instead of a translated book of second hand accounts.”

    Dave regaled him quietly with information as they made their way to the kitchen, telling of the dense trees and underbrush with the blooming night flowers and dark leaves, the many eyed beasts and monstrous pale creatures that stalked the lands and sea till they reached earshot of others. They both dropped the conversation then, Dave taking on the act of subservient pet at Jake's side while he complained about the interruption to John's delivery by such irresponsible, unprofessional louts, reported where the mess was with a request it be cleaned up as soon as possible, and asked for a replacement meal. He also asked for some sweets, and helped himself to the baked goods cabinet, keeping a few items in his hand but slipping a few onto Dave's tray as well, plenty for he and John to share later.

    The conversation picked up right where it had left off when they left the kitchens, Dave bearing his tray of foods and drink, and Jake nibbling a jam filled tart carefully to avoid spilling a single drop of the thick, gooey filling onto his hands. When some dribbled anyway, he licked the glob up without a second thought, nodding occasionally as Dave spoke. He told him of the caverns of silk worms, and how some of the glowed in the right lights, as did their delicate threads. Dave told of the heated waters in their steam filled caverns, the crystals big as a man, and the wonderful foods.

    Jake was quiet, attentive, listening closely to each word Dave told him, letting him go on at length with little more than reactions or a soft chuckle, a quiet 'Oh ho' now and then as something clicked and made sense with a memory of a book in the past.

    “There's all that, but my family's all a bunch of cards in their own right,” Dave said, bright eyed and excited from talking about such familiar things. “Roxy and Rose write a good deal, and Dirk, h-” he started, then fell quiet, a pressure in his chest making his words slow to a pained halt. There it was again, the sharp pang of homesickness, the nauseated feeling of leaving something behind.

    “..Dave, can you keep a secret,” Jake asked when the Dersite went quiet, glancing around to be sure nobody was about and lowering his voice to a soft murmur.

    “Of course,” Dave promised. “You can trust me to keep any secret. I'd gain nothing from telling a soul, and even then.. you've been good to me. I'd keep words to the grave for you.”

    “..Truth be told, I don't want to be in Prospit. Or at least not this section of it, the castle, the path of seasons my father follows,” Jake said softly. “There are things looming in my future that I do not wish to partake in, nor do I wish to foist them on my siblings.. so my wants are just that: wants, not haves. I would much rather be seeing the world than be chained to my father's shadow atop the throne, even if only for a while, and your stories of Derse have piqued my interest far more than any book has. I'd love to see it someday for myself, as well as I'd like to ensure somehow that you'll return there to live our your days on your home soil. Till that day, this is my promise: I will do my best to keep you safe from the shadows as well. Not just the favors for John or my own idle interests in your well being, but real, honest attempts at keeping you safe when I'm able. You light up John's world, and you shared that spark with me as well over time. ..I'd prefer to keep that spark bright. So, know there is another who will have things dealt with should bad luck appear in your doorway once more like those two bad tempered fellows. If it persists, we'll assign you a guard of your own till the members of our staff learn to behave themselves. Let them call it special treatment: there won't be much they can do about it in that position.”

    Dave slowed his walking a bit and eventually came to a halt in the hallway, Jake only pausing and turning to look at him when he realized he didn't hear the soft jingle from his collar keeping pace any longer. The man grinned the same charming smile as the rest of his family, overly large teeth and bright eyes crinkled at the edges, before he laughed merrily and came back the few paces to press his hand flat on Dave's upper back to urge him to get back to walking.

    “Sorry, just. ..That means a great deal to me, Si-. ..Jake.”

    “Come now, it's not that giant of a step forward. It's just a more dedicated version of what I'd already been happily doing for a while. If you're that awestruck, then perhaps I can use this time to ask you to tell me more stories and teach me more things about Derse later? I'd love to hear more about the different foods, perhaps some things about dances or music as well. Or legends. Different crafts. I'd ask for the language as well, but I suppose Karkat may be a better source for learning foreign tongues properly. You've no idea how long I've been stewing and debating asking you all of these questions since learning how agreeable you were!”

    “I'll tell you as much about Derse as you'd like to know,” Dave promised. “Or, at least as much as I can really say. Some things.. Some things are not for telling,” he said simply.

    “Oh, yes, of course. I don't mean to pry, I'm excited at the idea, and quite hopeful it will be as intriguing as the earlier sample I was given on what to look forward to. I'd be glad to trade whatever knowledge I can offer in exchange. Perhaps I can teach you a bit of archery if you're not already trained in it? We can explain it to any nosy ne'er do well's that you'd be learning to be of more use to me while on loan from John,” Jake chuckled.

    “You have a deal. ..Can I ask you to open his door, actually? It'd save me from having to kick it or balance this thing, and I've already lost one tray today,” Dave said when they had finished climbing the stairs to John's tower, not realizing Jake had fully intended to escort him the entire way after all, ensuring his safety every step of the way.

    “Of course. I do hope John's decent, though it'll be quite the riot if he's not,” Jake said with the winning grin again, giving the briefest of knocks before popping the door to John's chambers wide open, gesturing towards Dave warmly as he entered. “John, rise and shine, I've returned your little half. I hope you don't mind that we tarried for some time, I couldn't help but wring stories from him till he was half spent.”

    Dave glanced Jake's direction at the slight fib, noticing the thorough glossing over the altercation in the hallway instead of bringing it to the forefront. ..Maybe he did it on purpose, leaving Dave the opening to bring it up on his own? Or maybe he just didn't want to play hero as much as he said he would be doing, and wanted to assist from the sidelines quietly.

    Or maybe he just didn't want to get John into an angry, protective lather when the danger had already fully passed and been dealt with. His temper wasn't something Jake felt like dealing with right then, not after the excitement from earlier.

    John was cross legged on his bed with the blankets draped over his shoulders and his cloak closed to cover his front, the Skaian book resting alongside a book in Dersian and a book in Prospitian, as well as a few pieces of paper that they had been writing on before for translation efforts of different phrases to build up familiarity and a key of sorts. He beamed when Dave gave a playful bow and came over with the tray, handing it to John before using his empty hands to clamber up onto the bed as well more effectively.

    “Jake, pleasant surprise to see you. Are we going to be having a family meal today?”

    “Oh, no, I don't think so. Jane's getting a cold and Jade's tower is hissing and snapping from the ice so she's terribly on edge. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day for the dining room. I might pop over tomorrow for some company though, if you're willing,” Jake said with a nod, chuckling when John immediately said it would be fine. Much as he enjoyed his solitude with Dave, spending time with his family was important as well to John. Having his brother in his room for lunch or dinner would be a nice change of pace, some more safe interaction they could share without Dave needing to act and sound a certain way in case of prying eyes.

    “..Dave? What happened? Your knees are all wet,” John noticed once the Dersite had settled comfortably at his side and relaxed.. Then, he reached up with a frown to tug at the edge of Dave's cloak, touching around his collar with cautious fingertips. “You're bruising up here, what in the world were you doing? Are you alright?”

    “I'm fine, I'm fine,” Dave insisted, reaching up to slap gently at John's hands to halt his fussing before leaning to rest against his side comfortably. “I dropped the tray and had to get another one, it was a big annoying mess, then Jake turned up and brought me along up here. It was.. nice. We had a good talk.”

    Though John didn't look convinced, a dropped tray not translating to bruising, he didn't push the issue after a glance to Jake offered only an explanation of lifted brows and an amused smirk. If Dave didn't think it was important to mention, and Jake was all smiles and silence on the matter, then it wasn't something that John needed to pry apart any further. They were all adults, after all.

    “..Hm. A good talk, you say? Sounds excellent, what were you all up to?”

    “Regaling me with tales of Derse,” Jake said, taking a seat on the foot of the bed and leaning back on one hand to nibble the rest of his treats with his other. “Quite the lovely place, it seems. Books and scrolls do it no justice, according to Dave.”

    “It really does sound like some far flung dream, doesn't it. Hard to imagine properly, but the attempts are still lovely..”

    “If the war ever ends and I get to go home, I'll be certain to try showing you both the things I tell you of in person. Send you home with trinkets and finery that Prospit can't import from anywhere else in the world,” Dave said as he took up his plate and fork to eat, dipping his face down to make the space between food and mouth a shorter distance. “Words don't do well enough. Not for my home. It must be seen with the eyes to understand it.”

    “Would we even fit under your mountains and in your halls?” John teased, reaching for his tea to pour it and take a drink. “Everyone in Derse is fairly small like you, right?”

    “No! I mean. Yes, you would, but not everyone in Derse is my size. We're much smaller than you lot yes, but the tallest are about.. I'd say Jane's size or a bit more if they're purely from Derse, and a bit taller if there's some Skaian or Prospitian in their family line. I'm more like my sisters than my brother,” Dave said. “But that has nothing to do with anything of our halls. Our castle is just as grand as this, just.. mostly inside of a mountain.”

    “We'd stick out like sore thumbs, wouldn't we John,” Jake said sagely. “I wonder if that advantage would suit us against your wild beasts, however. A bit more bulk and ferocity versus fang and claw. Hammer and bow united against the creatures that have decimated friend and foe alike.”

    John knew that tone. Jake's mind was running wild again with the thoughts of adventure, of excitement, and he couldn't find it in him to tease him or get his thoughts back towards center of the topic. It wasn't that often lately that he saw Jake truly excited: it was a time to cherish and let him enjoy as well before his eventual future of the crown crushing down around his head.

    “You really would. And if you didn't, I know my brother would make you stick out even more on purpose to be an ass,” Dave snorted. “His sense of humor is very much in that line of thought. My sisters would probably adore you, if you act the same around women as you do around me.”

    “I've a soft spot for the ladies,” Jake said. “I'll be nothing short of a gentleman, should I ever get the honor of meeting them.”

    “..It's still strange to me. All these years of war, and you sound excited about meeting my family. Family who, for all intents and purposes, should want you dead,” Dave said.

    “Well.. I suppose it's because of you,” Jake admitted. “I still wish the war to end, and wish your king to lay down his crown so we can get back to peace, but I don't wish for his death. We've had enough bloodshed to last many lifetimes, and lost many good people because of this, not to mention the outright cost of keeping so many soldiers active for so long. It's foul.”

    “..He's never going to lay down his crown. You do know that, right? Dersites do not stop a game of chess until it's won, or they are forcefully overtaken, and he is the epitome of stubborn,” Dave said. “This war will not end until Prospit has been defeated, or Derse is torn to shreds.”

    The last word was very important to have in his family, and Dave wasn't certain just how well John or Jake understood that, especially without the context of the internal politics of the Dersian court to contend with.

    “If he wants a fight, a fight he will have,” Jake said. “..But I do wish for this to be resolved another way, if it's still going by the time I take the throne. Diplomacy and all that. I'm certain Skaia would deeply enjoy a break from the conflict we keep bleeding across its ground as well.”

    “Wishful thinking. If Dave says his brother is stubborn, and I know how stubborn Dave himself is, then that must be even more intense than we'd been led to believe. Even without the rumors of cannibalism and torture.”

    Dave stuck his tongue out at him.

    “I'm still a man eater, John, you're going to ruin my credibility.”

    “Man eater, yes, but not nearly in the way anyone would imagine,” John murmured, smirking in triumph when the tips of Dave's ears went red. Jake cleared his throat as if choking, fighting down a loud laugh around his food, and covered his mouth with his fist.

    “I believe that may be my cue to take my leave. I'll be seeing you later John,” Jake said as he got up. “Dave, it's been a pleasure speaking with you. Do take into consideration my offer of archery, it would be nice to see if you could handle a bow.”

    The pair waved as Jake saw himself out, and Dave trailed after him to slip the lock into place on the door before coming back to crash on the foot of the bed.

    “So! Books. You were working while I was gone?” Dave said, reaching out to accept tea John had poured in the second cup for him. “Did you get much done that I can backtrack with?”

    “Yes and no. I didn't handle much of the Dersian portion, it's difficult to write the letters properly, and I was too frustrated to attempt it much,” John admitted, showing the paper with his scrawling script attempt heavily crossed out beside a flowing Prospitian translation. “But I -was- able to sort out more of the story. ..It's strange, though.”

    “How is it strange?”

    “I can't tell what they're trying to accomplish with it. It's a Skaian couple talking about starting a home and tending crops, back before Skaia was fully founded,” John said. “At least I think it is? If I'm managing to read it right, I mean. Or they were using that as a euphemism. ..It's really a strange story though. Stars and moons and suns, dawn and dusk, but it's very firmly in Skaia instead of Prospit or Derse. There's loan words from both languages though Mentions of things aligned.”

    Dave sipped his drink and pored over the notes John took, asking questions now and then at a few words that he couldn't quite understand even if he could read them correctly sound-wise.

    “..They were in love, that's for sure. Was she really calling him treasure, or saying that she treasured him?”

    “I think she called him treasure. This word means golden in Prospitian, and this means precious. Precious gold. Treasure, right? Maybe.” John pointed out. “And he called her moonlight. Or. ..Does this mean moonlight in Dersian? I see 'night sun'.”

    “It means 'light of night sun' if you look at it from my angle. Moonlight,” Dave agreed. “So. Moonlight and Golden Treasure.”

    “..Mushy,” John chuckled. “I wonder if she had some link to Derse, if he was calling her moonlight. It's part of why I see you as my moon,” he crooned, guarding his cup when Dave stuck a foot out and bumped his shoulder with it, keeping the liquid from spilling.

    “It sounds precisely like Prospit and Derse. How romantic,” Dave chuckled. “I wonder if they'll tell how they met before they started their happy little home, I'd like to know more about them.”

    “Well, there's a lot of book to go still, we haven't really gotten very far,” John said. “It we keep at it, we'll probably find out. Do you want to do some writing practice again today?”

    “Ah, yes actually, I think I figured out how to hold the pen differently to manage those letters I keep having trouble with. I'm too used to holding it low..”

    “Yes, a lot of letters are much easier to write if you hold what you're writing with a little loosely, guide with the wrist instead,” John confirmed. “It should make a lot of difference.”

    “It's a date then,” Dave said. With his cup empty, it was easier to maneuver himself up against John's side, cuddling close and easy. It may be a little harder to write that way, but he didn't really care: after earlier, he needed a bit of time together close and secure with John to wind down.

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

    A day spent in close study had turned to an evening of gentle touches and warding away the incoming hammer of hail against the windows, which then gave way to a night of restless sleep. For the first time in a while, Dave was plagued by nightmares again, keeping him tossing and turning unless John held him close and stroked at his hair, and even then they woke him several times. He couldn't put a word to the night terrors when questioned on them, just that they were alarming and very much larger than life from the flickers that he could remember. A long night turned to a new day with John still exhausted from trying to stay awake guarding his lover from the ravages of his own mind, and Dave once more bearing the darker shadows beneath his bright eyes.

    With the storm raging outside once more, wet and cold enough that even Dave felt a bit of a shiver up his spine, and John exhausted and needing to sleep late, there was no way for him to get accompaniment to the kitchens today. Not from John, at least. ..It should be fine. Yesterday was a fluke, and those responsible had already been dealt with, they wouldn't be stupid enough to do the exact same thing a second time so soon. He just needed to get downstairs, get the breakfast tray, and return safely. More aware of the risks than ever, Dave knew he could do this, and was willing to turn and run now that he knew the tactics they were willing to use. Another smashed teapot was worth risking if it meant keeping prying hands away from his throat and keeping overly large opponents from getting the upper hand against him.

    Something felt off, though. It had to be the weather, damper and more fierce with the whipping of winds and the distant clunk of shutters coming loose and roofs being damaged. Glass was breaking outside, property being ruined by the hail and winds, but the stone of the castle was holding firm. Nature was flexing her might for all she was worth out there. That had to be why Dave felt so ill at ease.

    It had to be.

    After stoking the fire up once more, Dave pulled on his cloak and shoes, and went to pull John's blankets up around his body a bit higher to tuck him in, smoothing his thick hair back from his brow a few times in a petting motion before delicately pressing lips to his temple. Today would be hard on him, Dave knew, even with the layers he had on hand to make use of. Staying up so late trying to help with the nightmares had taken a definite toll of its own.

    The distant thundering and heavy hits of hail sounded like the tinkling of bells at certain parts of the empty halls, a strange symphony to go along with the soft tap of Dave's shoes and the gentle jingle from his collar as he headed down the stairs. It was other worldly, and despite the ill ease, beautiful in a way. He reached the kitchens with no difficulties, and found no problems from the limited staff that was hard at work within, the numbers lower than usual due to weather and the earlier hour. Dave made a mental note to try coming very early for breakfast in the future, to cut down on the number of people he would have to deal with listening to and interacting with. The head cook this day was a kinder disposition as well, offering Dave a halfhearted smile instead of a scowl, and shying away when he reached for things he already knew the locations of instead of snapping at him to keep his filthy hands to himself.

    Today's tea was a mint blend, peppermint, spearmint and lemongrass perfuming the air along with the fresh bread and melted butter on the tray. Thick, fluffy individual loaves were on offer alongside sausages and some sort of fried greens that had once been salted, and two small dishes of a honey sweetened oatmeal. Savory, warm, filling. The perfect thing for a day like this.

    Dave bowed thankfully to the cook when he took the platter, mood lifting during his safe trek back to the room. Things were going fine, as he'd hoped. No problems, no interruptions. The weather was beating the worst habits from strangers, and he was thankful enough that he wanted to dedicate some of his food to the powers that be for the favor that was being given. He made it all the way to the stairs once more before having to pause, hearing another sound that did not match the rain.

    Heavy, angry footfalls were what brought the servant from the day before into view, though this time he was alone. His hands were an angry red, raw from unfamiliar scrubbing no doubt, and his face was matching, a twisted, angry mask.

    “Surprised?” he asked. “I wanted to see if I could repay you for yesterday, getting me in trouble like that, you little snitch. Do you have any idea how long I was up scrubbing bed linen and towels and clothing, only to have to move straight on to my usual day right afterward? With barely any sleep between?”

    “I had to tell,” Dave said, grip tight on the tray, judging its weight, debating when to drop and run. “If my Master or any of his family demand I tell the truth, I tell the truth. All sorts of horrible things can happen if I lie.”

    “Yes, yes, had to be so prim and proper even when we already set up the perfect story. Who would have known you lied but us, telling the same damned story? Snitched to paint yourself in a better light, come out on top. Again. More special treatment, more favors. A personal escort from another prince after a slap on the wrist,” the servant said, arms crossing and stance shifting to rest more weight on one leg. “How did you manage that amount of favor so quickly? Do they share you at the same time, or just take turns making you scream?”

    “I've done nothing of the sort,” Dave said immediately. “And even if I had, what's it to you? I wouldn't have a choice either way, right? I'm to follow orders. I do as I'm told by my Master. If he says jump, I'm to jump and ask if he wants me to jump higher.”

    “Only from your master, or from anyone above you? If I were to give you an order, would you follow or fight? Would you go along with the story, or would you rat me out despite knowing what could be done? It would still be my word against yours without any witnesses, Dersite, and I don't see any escort this time to save you. ..And I've an ace up my sleeve this time, now that I know how high your favors reach.”

    “..Your word against mine for what?” Dave asked hesitantly. “Why are you so bent on bothering me? I'm not asking for any attention, it's being given to me for doing as I'm told, and you've no idea how harsh things are behind closed doors, or what I deal with in this country. You see special treatment, I see praise for doing as I'm forced to do.” It was nauseating to describe things that way, but at the same time.. how else was he to say it? What other way made the same amount of sense without letting slip how close he and John truly were, let alone how much his siblings were willing to protect and aide him? It would only give this man and the others who held a grudge more ammunition against him, more proof, more reasons to hate him aside from the obvious.

    “I said before that it's personal in a way you'll never understand, Dersite. It's because of you and your people that I've lost family, I've lost friends. And now here you are, a pampered pet warming laps and beds and eating fine foods from the hand of royalty instead of being run ragged as the people who work here to keep the nobility satisfied and the castle in its entirety running. Instead of being run as ragged as I am,” he spat. “I was punished yesterday, put even further into the gutter, and you went off with another royal to the safety of your Master's lap without a single question.”

    “You were both attacking me and I was defending myself, and I told the truth when ordered to! What else was I supposed to d-”

    “There's rumor you're friendly with the princesses as well,” the servant interrupted. “You sweet talked the Wolf, even! Someone who's fought tooth and nail against your country's forces, suddenly more than content to let one of the enemy wander around in her presence without a second glance! You might have some kind of good favor with them, but I'll always know what you are and what you're supposed to be. I understand why they kept you alive. But I will be damned if something like you is treated better than my kinsmen and I are treated in our own home territory.”

    “I can't control that, and I didn't sit and personally order the death of your loved ones, do you think nobody in my country has lost anyone to a Prospitian?” Dave said. “I'm already low as I can get without being dead, what do you want me to do? Apologize? Beg my Master to treat me worse? Get in trouble on purpose?”

    “Get in trouble on purpose? I can get you in trouble for real, quite easily if I wanted to. There's enough people of a similar mind that we could fabricate something.. and it would be your word against an entire staff of 'witnesses'. We could also bypass the princes and princesses since their judgment is skewed, and send word to the king directly,” he said, lips curling in a grin as he finally showed his hidden card, watching Dave's features closely for a reaction. “You've not won him over, and his mind is not clouded by your presence. We could land you on the executioner's block if you push back enough, even if you were kept alive for some important reason. A king can't abide a slave risking his family's lives.”

    Dave's blood ran cold. That. ..That was definitely a problem, and he wasn't sure how to fight back against that if it came up save for John and his family pleading his case for him to their father and hoping he didn't decide to make an example of Dave in the end. If the pleading even worked and saved him. What would the people angry at him even have claimed he did in the first place to elicit that much of an assured response? It was battling rumors all over again, but on a grander scale with potential life or death stakes. The rumor about him being a man eater had already spread like a wildfire in a short amount of time, as had the rumor about him sleeping his way to favor. Something else negative against him would go just as fast if so many disliked him now, especially with the promise of him being taken care of in the end if they all played their parts and told the same tale. The only ones who would speak positively about him would be the royalty themselves, Kanaya, and perhaps Karkat. The very people who they expected to have speaking nicely for him, and who they were prepared to discredit one way or another.

    “...Right. What do you want me to do then? I can't change anything, not by myself, and I don't want problems,” Dave reasoned. “If you just want someone to be mad at, I'm-”

    “Show me what you've been showing the nobility to turn their minds,” the servant said, uncrossing his arms. “What's charmed them so thoroughly that they're willing to spend time and energy on a fucking slave from Derse when we don't get the time of day. Do you know magic? Are you poisoning them with something? Invading their dreams while they sleep? If you're hiding something, now's your time to admit to it.”

    “I don't know what to tell you that I haven't already! There's no secret, there's no hidden tactic, I don't know magic, it's just me doing as I'm told like I'm supposed to,” Dave insisted. “I'm very sorry for those you've lost, I'm sorry I'm being treated well, and I'll. I don't know, try to avoid you as much as possible if that's what it takes. Avoid everyone. Put in good words and high praises, and not look you in the eyes. I just want to keep doing what I'm doing: do what I'm told, keep my head down, and keep surviving.”

    “You can't make it up to me by walking away, and you can't change the royal family's minds most likely, the spoiled brats. Not quickly as we want, at least. ...But maybe you can make it worth my while until we make headway. You could make it worth a lot of people's while, I'm sure,” the man said, taking a few steps forward. “Ensure more people might be interested in keeping you around after all.”

    Dave's eyes flickered down to the steam still pouring from the teapot, and then back up to the approaching servant. A drop wouldn't do, not for this. There were more useful things to do with hot tea.

    “And that is?”

    “Let us have a sample of what they prince is enjoying at night. It would be the perfect slap in his face to tarnish his little toy without him knowing, and we'd get a piece of the high life,” he said. “You doing this would be disobeying your Master and doing as WE say, giving us a bit of power over him. It would be worth a lot.”

    “And if I refuse? Because it's looking like that's what my answer will be, just to let you know. I'd gain little from disobeying my Master's wishes, and I've no interest in anyone sampling anything as far as I'm concerned.”

    “His wishes!” said the servant. “What wishes? That only he and his brother get a taste of you? Do they give you orders on who to sleep with and when, or do they just order you who to not bite between thrusts? Will the day come when the stallions in the stable get a turn at you, if their fancy were to sway that way? If you lose enough favor with them, would they toss you to us anyway? Following orders is SO important even when not being seen, isn't it. I don't care what your interests are. You don't get to have interests anymore, not here. Youre' in Prospit, Dersite. Let me show you just how much you have to learn under the sun,” the servant spat, agitated that he wasn't able to get under Dave's skin at all, wanting the upper hand back. He didn't look scared, didn't look intimidated.

    Looked too proud for someone so low.

    A reaching hand and the same alarmed feeling from before was all it took for Dave to lift the tray sharply and aim it forward with force, spilling the boiling hot liquid on the servant's torso and parts of his face, not caring that it burnt his own hands from the back splashing. The food went flying, as did the plates and forks, shattering on the ground for the second day in a row as Dave dropped everything and reared his fist back before following through with a solid punch to the man's face. He waited till the servant staggered to take off and up the stairs, needing to get to guards, to John's tower, back into earshot of help since there was no perfectly timed appearance of Jake or someone else he had favor with.

    It was too early. It was too stormy. It was too cold to warrant a crowd, and isolation had never been so terrifying before. Dave would give anything just to have a group of people muttering about him again off to the side and glaring his way. Anything but this.

    “You little rat, how dare you!” bellowed the man as he recovered from the burn, making a grab for Dave.

    It wasn't ever easy. It never was when an opponent was angry and bent on making a point, judgment clouded and dark. Dave felt the sting at his throat of his cloak being yanked on, the easiest thing on his body to be grabbed hold of, but this time he was ready. In trouble for fighting being damned, it was worth the risk to bloody his knuckles instead of seeing what would happen if he gave in, and Dave was quick to turn around and punch at whatever bit of his opponent he could reach to deter him from continuing the attack. He wasn't going to allow himself to be yanked around while flailing for freedom: he would keep up the attack while the lummox's hands were full. Another hit to the face did well, slowing the man a bit and making his balance sway on one of the stone steps when Dave's cloak came loose and off in his hands, giving the Dersite more openings to strike. Detering wouldn't be enough: the Prospitian needed to go down long enough for an escape to be had. A few steps were being gained at a time, but not enough to leave, even as they approached the top.

    Uneven ground of the stairs, awkward footing, and sheer differences in force and mass were making for a difficult struggle when the servant regained his focus and was able to start the fight with increased ferocity. Intimidation was not working, had failed, and bargaining was shot: it would be force, then. Blunt attempts at lifting Dave or shoving him back were met with bites and kicks, sharp elbows to the abdomen, and a sharp crack to the nose, desperation leaving Dave more vicious than he normally would be when he was earning bruises of his own, each back step or move apart being chased down and mirrored. A harsh slap from a wide palm stunned the Dersite for a moment, disoriented after his head whipped to the side and the eye on the right side stinging with rising watery tears in response.

    Dave felt the slim collar at his neck being tugged and he leaned frantically back while gripping the ring with white knuckled hands, tossing his shoulders this way and that to dislodge the servant's grip, wanting to knock him off balance hard enough to make him fall down the stairs and get off him long enough to make it the rest of the way to the tower and the safety of the patrol.

    It worked, but at a price.

    The servant's grip did not loosen when he misstepped and finally fell down the stairs, dragging Dave down with him in a sharp tumble that sent them both rolling, alternating who was taking the brunt of the fall on the sharp edged stone. The grip at his collar loosened after the first full painful rotation they shared locked together, and the beginning of the second sent Dave flying from the uninhibited inertia, skipping a few of the stairs instead of tumbling downward gradually and coming down with a solid crack halfway down the staircase, knocking the back of his head harshly. They both came to a stop at the very bottom, the servant disoriented and groaning, clutching at the arm he had tried to break his fall with, the limb no longer straight and familiar but limp and angular inside its sleeve. Dave lay still with his eyes open and half focused on the ceiling, watching the world spin, listening on his surroundings as the sights came in and out of focus.

    He was.. tired. Very tired. Everything hurt, his heart was going wild in his chest, but he was sleepy. What had he been doing..? ..Right. Right, the fight. Fighting.

    Quick footfalls were approaching with a familiar echo, but Dave couldn't look around to track where from, not wanting to lift his head, unsure if he was even able to. He was too busy being grateful he could feel his arms and legs, that he could wiggle his toes, too busy hearing his heart hammer in his ears in tempo with the increasingly throbbing ache in his skull. Everything was too loud, and the eventual shouting of a woman's voice was almost too much to bear. He wanted to beg them to shut up, to be quiet, to just let him lay still for a while to recover and rest, but didn't get the chance before Kanaya came into view above him.

    Wide, worried eyes looked down at him, and the pressure of warm cloth soon covered his body before she disappeared out of view and quiet returned save for the continued pained sounds of the servant nearby. Right.. Right, Kanaya had said she'd finished some things for he and John, she was going to come by. The warmth was probably what she'd proud with her. Dave didn't know how long had passed before she returned, bringing with her the sounds of more people, more men Dave couldn't look at, but the lack of knowing who was there didn't fill him with trepidation now.

    There was nothing to fear, Kanaya was there. Things were safe with Kanaya. He wasn't alone, he was loved and safe and warm on the ground now.

    Guards. They were guards, weren't they. He could see the glint of a weapon on one man's hip as he walked beside him on his right side, sharp details of a crisp uniform along his back and shoulders after he straightened up from bending down. They were helping the servant up to his feet, trying to support his arm when he screamed about it being jostled.

    So loud. Shut up.. Shut UP..

    “Dave?”

    Kanaya's voice. Where was Kanaya at? He didn't spot her immediately, and had to finally cautiously turn his head to the left a bit to see her fully, making a sick feeling rise in his stomach. Everything felt like it was spinning, but she was kneeling down and hesitantly touching his face, dabbing at something wet under his nose.

    “I fell,” Dave said. “I fell,” he repeated. “I'm okay. It's. It hurts, let me lay still for a minute,” he finished with a mumble. Maybe she'd let him sleep for a while.

    She leaned over him again, and the world went in and out of focus once more, enough for Dave to realize a problem. For a split second, he'd seen Kanaya clearly out of the corner of his left eye, and then the view had changed again. The ache was intensifying in his head, and between the bile rising in his throat and the icy feeling of sweat on his face, Dave's hand shook when he lifted it. He felt his eyes shudder as he tried to follow where his hand was going, unsteady and jerking around to ftrace the moving shape in its slow path side to side.

    He closed his left eye and continued to watch the jerky, unsteady movement pass by his nose till he opened both eyes again.

    He closed his right eye, and couldn't tell where his hand was at all anymore. The world failed to come into focus again while his right eye was closed, showing him nothing. Dave waited for it to pop back again, to reappear, to do something, anything. When the sight didn't come back fast enough, Dave took a sharp breath.

    John. Where was John. John needed to know. Where was he? Why wasn't he here? Would he know what happened?

    “...Kanaya,” Dave croaked, realizing she'd been talking to him, not picking up on any of the words in his single minded focus of following his own hand earlier. “Get John. Get John. Please. Get John, the left's gone.”

    “I'll get John,” she promised. “Don't sit up, don't move, just try to stay still. We're getting John for you. We're going to get you help, just. Stay still,” she told him, looking wild eyed, hands raised and cautious, unsure what to do if he suddenly fought or tried to get up, not certain where was safe to touch. “What do you mean the left's gone?”

    He couldn't explain. When the all over ache and the pain in his head turned to a sudden stabbing burning sensation and a distinct feeling of impending doom rose in the back of Dave's mind, he finally began to cry, tears wetting his cheeks. This was it, wasn't it. This was how he ended: at the bottom of a staircase hiccupping on his own tears, far, far from home with no idea where the one he loved was at.

    “I want my mother,” Dave croaked in Dersian before his eyes rolled back and sleep took him under with a dark, soothing touch of mercy.

[shslbullrider-blog]

45 qs

oooh my god this is typical ellie “answered too long” there are no short responses but lots of ebull spoilers bc i dont care.

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

ebull has one big sister!  she and her are obnoxiously close, and have been known to game situations so that they’re both doing similar things at the same time -- just so they can spend as much time together as physically possible.  they’re physically separated most of the time, so they have to make any time they get for each other really count--!

ebull has always been achingly protective over her sis, who, in turn, is a bit more clever and wise than her.  they kind of have always lived in each other’s minds and they really balance each other out!  

2. What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

loving, but distant.  ebull doesn’t see her mother that much -- mostly for vacations and for the odd week or two out of the year.  she talks to her on the phone often enough, but it’s not quite the same.

most of their face-to-face interaction is based in her mom making up for lost time -- which tends to lead to ebull’s fashion and life choices being prodded at.  lovingly!  but in that completely-serious-tongue-in-cheek way.  theyre a pretty dry but warm family over there in gen, but it does embarrass her a bit. 

 she’s a bit more secretive towards her mom than with her dad -- but doesn’t really find that to be a bad thing!  mostly bc her mom is a bit of a gossip though and it Strains Her Life.  she’s also got an issue with respecting ebull’s privacy and she really hates that.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

extremely close.  ebull is a bit of a daddy’s girl and it’s kind of obvious -- she spends a lot of time with him, tells him all of her issues, asks him for advice, rags on him -- and he dotes on her like no one’s business.  she could probably get away with murder and have her dad ask her where to hide the body -- he enables a lot of her behaviors in a way her mom refuses to.

he does have a few very hard limits, though.  and ... makes it painful when she crosses them, because he tends to feel rather personally slighted if ebull keeps things from him or goes against direct advice.  they live together most of the time when ebull isn’t at home, so she tries to avoid this whenever possible.

sometimes by drawing in!  oops.  privacy.

he’s a really dry but extremely warm guy in gen tho -- kind of a great person and ebull admires him a lot.

does not fucking get video games though.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

ummm not really, not counting murder game things.  

sawako’s death fucked her up in a way that she doesn’t like to talk about -- even to people she’s close to -- but well!  that’s private--!

not even michiko knows the extent there and that’s saying something.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

advil, spare bandannas, potions, sawako’s love/friendship potion (it pokes at her back like constantly), tissues, pens, little scraps of paper, small vials of perfume, essential oils, hand cream, hershey kisses, needle + thread, mini toothpaste/toothbrush, a photo of her sister, gum, about four tubes of lipstick, mascara, her ID, like a single monocoin, sometimes you get a spare pair of clothing in there (plus calvins!), breath freshener, nail polish, nail cutters.

...

her jacket has more pockets than you’d ever fucking know.

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

warmth.  being enveloped in warmth.  sunny days, laying in the grass, swinging a bat with her dad, driving over 100mph and feeling the warmth of the car through her hands.

....

sometimes she dreams of ow characters kissing her too but that’s a whoooole other kind of warmth she wouldn’t admit to.

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

coldness.  dying slowly and alone.  calling out to people to receive no answer.  people she’s close to telling her she’ll be right back and not answering her call thirty minutes later.  various situations of seeing various corpses of cared-for people in increasingly horrifying death poses.

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

nah! why use guns when she’s got THESE GUNS [pretend she flexed]

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

nah not really!  and if it did change, she didn’t really notice.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

being honest -- super honest?  more.  a lot more.  jackets and things to cover her neck -- she can’t wear dresses comfortably without pulling tights up or she feels uncomfortable.

but she’s willing to wear the hot ‘skimpy clothing’ to fit in better with her ‘fellow teens’ because that’s what’s attractive, right??  god shes sure this works??  janties are in season right she can bring them back??

stunningly if ebull is comfy w u she tends to wear more clothes in ur presence idk what that says about her.

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

the first few months in the game, before merge.  it was a constant, waking fear back then.  wake up in cold sweats and close to puking.  character spoilers: she was always worried, anxious, and uncomfortable but u know she’s thriving.

(also, she’s ridiculously good at seeming calm).

there have been high points since merge -- including not getting texts back from tomoka, michiko calling her for help in ch5, and some assorted Other Business (lol) but yeah it’s eased off a little and hasn’t breached that level since.

outside of game i dont know if ebull knows what it’s like to know fear.  she DID have a frighten that she thought was rather substantial in telling her parents she got into hpa for being a gamer but honestly she lived and like most things in her life it went better than she  expected it to.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

well, she’s really good at SEEMING calm despite alarm bells in her head.  and she actually thrives during high stress situations!  she is deathly composed and very comfortable during raids, and actually has found that trials are kind of becoming comforting, in a sense -- and she feels calm in her accusations.

... thanks.

in general, she does better once she’s used to a rotation.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

nah not really!  she’s more squeamish than she seems at first glance, but it doesn’t obstruct her from what ‘has to be done,’ so to speak.  

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

names -- comes with the territory (given the fact that she deals primarily with online people).  but she’s super good at both, and very rarely gets a name unattached to a face -- or forgets either.  she finds it inspires bad blood.

15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

kiiiiind of ?  it’s a strange case.  ebull’s used to the finer things in life and has certain standards -- like, if she’s dating someone, she insists on both sentimental and expensive gifts (because the combination ensures that she covers her bases and that they “really” care about her -- it’s proper that way), and if she was denied anything from her current standard of life she... might go through a bit of a culture shock, really.  

money and status has been a huge theme of her life and upbringing -- with two working parents who sacrifice family time for their successes.  so she knows what it’s like to have a lot of it in a rather... passive way.  she has no interest in the excess that her family can get into, but she’s never ever ever had to even think about money in a lasting way -- she gets speeding tickets out the ass and the only concern she has is how her family might bully her, rather than the monetary cost associated with it.

she can afford to not be preoccupied with wealth, is probably the best way to put it.  she gets that this puts her in a pretty good position, and is empathetic to people who struggle, but really wouldn’t know what to do if she couldn’t just pay for shit she breaks without thinking about it.  so like, she’s not out there purposefully decorating her house with useless pieces of shitty expensive art or always after the highest brands, but wouldnt know what to do if the ability to do that was suddenly stripped away.

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

ebull would claim a mix of both -- that competence and fulfillment in other areas help to ensure happiness, etc, but.

if you really put a gun to her head on this one, she’d have to admit to ‘happiness.’  she’s not very ambitious and not competitive in the slightest -- if she’s struggling emotionally and upset all the time, what point is there to her successes?  does success mean anything if it’s not attached to fulfilling work? 

she’d never claim that people have to be happy all the time, but don’t you have to lose to fully appreciate your wins?  it’s a conundrum.

she’s very go-with-the-flow in nature, and finds things escalate fast when people stress over finishing, being right, or attaining perfection.  it’s better to take a walk and let it sit for your health and happiness than push yourself further.

this is probably at least partially due to her overall ‘ahh’ feeling about how much her family works, but she absolutely doesn’t hold it against people who think differently.  kind of admires them, really!  she’s just not built for it.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

a stuffed monkey her dad got for her during one of his trips to america.  she keeps it somewhere in her room.

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

ambition ambition ambition -- though admittedly, ebull has neither trait, in her view.  wisdom is fine and good, but it’s easy to sit and get complacent with it, she finds.  also people who think of themselves as ‘wise’ tend to give her headaches.

she admires cleverness above both but finds it’s not the same as either.

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

jesus christ where do i even fucking start it’s kind of a cyclical mess.

her biggest is most likely how long it typically takes her to get comfortable with people.  ebull finds vulnerability, opening up, and the like... extremely difficult (but v attractive).  she’s extremely adept at turning conversations into what the other person is feeling, and avoids giving any insight about her life in most situations -- even with people she claims to be close to.  she keeps any cards she intends to keep close to her chest, even when it doesn’t make sense to.  she’s understanding to the point of becoming a doormat in some places, and is easy to take advantage of once she’s committed -- but fears getting to that level, and will naturally close off if someone doesn’t read her mind and figure that she’s uneasy.

then she’ll ghost that person for hurting her feelings or just using her.  which happens often, not because someone actually did, but because she thought they did.

she works primarily in the realm of assumed knowledge, and, as a naturally perceptive person, knows that it’s unfair of her to assume people will remember as much about her as she does to them -- but it hurts her feelings anyway if she’s close to (or is crushing on) someone who doesn’t seem to just ‘get her.’  you can’t rush things in too fast, but you also have to be the one to make the first move.  you have to get her but be okay that she will almost never tell you a direct answer.

she keeps her preferences and desires coy and mysterious until she’s comfy and ugh yeah.

like in general this is a self-feeding mess of an issue here and it’s of no surprise that before the game she’d never been in a relationship.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

usually it’s just to look for improvements to herself.  she very rarely uses other people as a basis as to what she should be doing in an excusatory way -- like ‘if theyre not working, i dont have to be.’  she hates that.

21. If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

she always -- and i mean always -- blames herself first.  this drives BYE(star)BYE up a wall when theyre playing games because yeah she does this incorrectly a lot.

she usually needs people to let her know when she’s being a bit too hard on herself or over-extending.  but even in these situations she... relies on someone else to take the blame off her directly, rather than believing it entirely herself.

22. What does your character like in other people?

cunning, warmth, a bit of a tongue-in-cheek attitude, bullying, ambition, COMPETENCE, a bit of daredevil attitude, ability to hold her leash, genuine care, passion, ability to admit fault, EMPATHY, work ethic, good-humoredness, effort, something that i can only describe as ‘has the vibe of a ‘’’bad boy’’’ but treats her right,’ the ability to balance her out in any way fucking possible, the ability to make decisions, teamwork, commitment, the ability to just ‘get her,’ caution.

no one person can have all these things which is so upsetting but she lives.  mostly if you balance her out and make her smile... she’s good.

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

brattiness, hypocritical behaviors, blaming others needlessly, saccharine niceness, people who are weirdly friendly, touchiness too soon, obstructing team work, people who think theyre somehow above rules/norms, unwarranted self-importance, people who dont even pretend to try to understand where others are coming from, people who expect other people to do work for them, people who spread gossip too far, no boundaries, people who act as if theyre above bias/other human things/etc, ‘weak’ personalities, people who just escalate her rather than grounding her out a bit, people who take advantage of other people’s feelings, people who intentionally hurt others, sadistic qualities, overt self-flagellation, cattiness over men in women, men who are nasty towards women,  infidelity, lack of loyalty, promise breaking, people who claim to care past a polite level but don’t.

...she can take any of those in doses, and she’s very willing to admit that no one is perfect -- and she’s sure she expresses some of those herself, sometimes.

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

weird question for ebull.

trust is a strange thing for this gal.  when ebull uses the word ‘trust,’ she means she has an expectation.  for instance, she trusts someone named “bigdragonfucker42069″ to be kind of unbearable in the team’s groupchat.  she makes these kinds of judgments very quickly, and can be said to ‘trust’ every single member of her class -- such as, she trusts veronica to come into a trial logically and get exasperated by any court theatric, and she trusts masashi to say little in trial but to be marginally sensible when he gives ideas.

most of these expectations do include trust for being alone together with them, sometimes during motives, because she trusts people to not go after one of the clearly athletic people who could phone a friend and have backup in minutes.  shit like that.

this doesn’t mean, however, that she trusts people in a traditional sense -- and it goes in negative ways -- like she trusts that there are maybe two people that, even before the game was revealed as a vr, would give a shit if she died beyond ‘fuck now we lost someone who does shit.’  it doesnt always work to her self image’s favor!  

for a more traditional trust -- like trusting with emotional intimacy... um.

....

that takes.  a long time.

...a very long time.  and you have to pass shittests.

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

quick to suspect, slow to solidify -- if that makes sense.  she doesn’t put much above just about anyone, but she’s willing to see reason or be proven wrong, and is pretty gracious when this is done.

doesn’t change a damn bit if she’s close to someone, but her um.  reaction.  might be a lil different.

26. How does your character behave around children?

she loves kids so much and is eager to teach them things, show them things, the whole bit.  god.  she loves kids.  easiest way to get her to genuinely smile is to bring a damn toddler around her.

27. How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

eagerly, but levelly.  she doesn’t shy away from much, but she’s more looking to compromise or do whatever suits the group best than whatever interests she might have.

she finds she does get a lil excited at ‘locking horns’ with people, though.  so to speak.

28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

depends entirely on the situation.  usually really slow -- she’s got about three locks on herself, calm down mechanisms, ability to tone down her impulses (and her impulses are RARELY ‘hurt someone’) -- but she does have.  big.  no-nos.

if any of those no-nos are touched she kind of goes blank white and will get violent without warning.  these things don’t really happen in real life though so she’s usually safe.

sucks 2 b in this game tho lol sorry jiji.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

she really wanted to be the first female mlb baseball star.  died when she was about nine because it felt really unattainable, and she’d rather... accept her lot in life than try hard for something and fail that badly (oops).  now it’s too late to do anything about it even if she wanted to so she considers this a success in some way.

she isn’t here to make waves or so she says.  she doesn’t talk about this much but she does still love The Sport.

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

people who use other people’s feelings against them, or abuse the trust other people have in them for their own gain.  people who lie in relationships.  cheaters.  people who could give a shit if they hurt someone they claim to care about.

31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

sitting with her family in their country home for their week alone together.  having only a few homework assignments to do, about to go on a walk with her sister so her parents can have time alone.

32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

she’s accidentally hurt someone she cares about -- they’re trying to act ok, but she can tell that they’re upset and that their trust in her took a hit.  she has no way to really apologize -- no way to fix it quickly.  she’s alone in her room, trying not to dwell on it but finding it impossible.  it’s cold.

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

always always always willing to improve.  she takes all crit pretty well and never takes things personally.  maybe to a fault.

34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

not only does she immediately move on to a different method, but she mapped that method out mentally around the middle-mark of her first attempt, making it easier to jump into.  ebull has never seen the point in trying things over and over again in desperation, and is always looking for new ways around something.  she’s adaptable in almost every sense, and doesn’t feel too bad about failure the first dozen of times as long as she eventually settles on an answer.

this sometimes leads to some rather unconventional solutions but you know.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

ummm this is really dependent on the person, her intentions with the person, and their overall ‘relationship chemistry.’

ebull is extremely adaptable and finds it easy to go along with what other people need or desire in a relationship -- and therefore most of the time, if she likes a person, she tends to turn into some kind of balancing act.  she’ll also seek their company in her own ways!

it diverges a little between her intending for a friendship and her intending for a lover, however.  if ebull wants to have someone as a friend, she tends to spoil them -- to get into their interests a bit and starts to joke around early.  friends also get clued into her feelings and her background almost readily, and she’s more willing to explain herself or get into the things she likes (or even reveal embarrassing tidbits about herself) with people she feels mostly platonic towards.

if ebull intends to try to date someone, she um.

does her best to act absolutely detached from them.  if at all possible.  she shields any information about herself behind seven proxies of coyness.  she tries to turn every conversation into something about what the other person wants or their feelings rather than her own.  she gives little, coy compliments -- winking nudges of her interest -- but absolutely doesn’t invite the chance to get closer.  above all else, she tries to remain mysterious.

...it’s a lot easier to be her friend.  or like.  go from friend=>lover because holy shit is her dating scheme a pain in the ass.

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

depends on if this is a business/pleasure relationship.  in business, or for similar things (like a family her parents are trying to impress), ebull is remarkably good at acting at least interested in and polite towards other people.  she’s very willing to be or act compassionate even to people she detests, as she finds that there’s too much emotional energy used up by being mad or trying to behave anti-socially around someone she has to be around.  ebull values group cohesion and effort above most else, and finds that she starts causing issues by gaining attitudes.

if she has to be alone with someone she dislikes, she’ll smile politely, giggle at all their jokes, shrug her shoulders a lot, and move on quickly.  mostly you can tell if she dislikes you if she’s consistently trying to avoid speaking with you, and doesn’t coyly hint at things.

37. Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

she finds these two are almost irreparably related, and likely couldnt choose between the two.  mostly because she’s more interested in just letting her actions speak for her, rather than get into fights over if she’s a good leader or deserves her position or anything.  it’s counter-productive to focus on either of these.

38. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

weirdly enough she will usually just remove herself and her healers, if at all possible.  that, or try to calm the problem/threat or work around it -- rather than remove it entirely.  she’s not afraid of confrontation, but finds being quick to jump doesnt tend to look good.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

nope!  ebull doesn’t tend to deal with animals often.

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs?

politely, doesn’t tend to seem entirely bothered by slip ups or the like.  the type of person who notices that something is going wrong in the kitchen or her waiter seems frazzled and responds with “im in no rush, so take your time” or merely steers the dinner conversation away from how hungry people are into something more productive.  tips well.

41. Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

earn it, fullstop.  and this includes things that people don’t traditionally associate with being earned -- like a good partner, for instance.  she detests when people demand or act deserving of things like other people’s respect, time, sympathy, or effort without giving a good reason.  this is partly why she’s not easy to phase even in the game when things go badly, because it’s easy for her to rationalize that she must have done something to disrupt other people’s trust in her -- and therefore lost her standing for their attention.  

she has never, ever assumed that she deserves something just for being there or showing up -- and finds that when things are just given freely, she gets a little anxious.  usually she assumes some ulterior motive.

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

nah!

43. Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

um unless you count 12 year olds on youtube who love her tanking videos, no.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

if it’s by text to a person she’s friendly with and has no intention of ever dating?  super easy.  “ilyyyyyy” and shit, sometimes cheeky.  she can also use the term ‘love’ very indiscriminately, as one of her more charming speaking tics.

any other circumstance? hoo boy.  she can think of no harder phrase to utter -- and this is coming from a gal who refuses to make first moves or say things in a non-delicate manner.

she finds phrases like ‘i love you’ way too fucking vulnerable to be said lightly -- and has to be absolutely sure before saying it.  because she fears not having her feelings reciprocated over most things, ebull will NEVER say it first, even if that means it takes years to exchange the phrase.  she’s also the type of person who could hear someone else say it in earnest and feel only uncomfortable -- if she doesn’t feel the same way.  rather than fake her feelings and return it, she’d find coy, cute ways to brush it off.  she doesn’t  take this shit lightly and has determined ‘i love you’ to be something said only with absolute certainty.

also if you say it too fast or in a position she thinks is kind of manipulative (such as saying it for the first time to her as you’re attempting to get next stage intimate), she’ll probably get disgusted at you for faking your feelings in an attempt to make her put her guard down and that’s a break up.

so yeah if she says it to you out loud, platonic or romantic?  she means the hell out of it.  also it probably embarrassed her to say and she might be close to crying.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

ebull is a buddhist and is therefore ‘covered’ when it comes to the afterlife -- so she doesnt really fear what will happen to her on paper.  off of paper she’s kind of still a bit weirdly superstitious and it’s a meld of traditional worries on top of bizarre concepts like american ghost hunting shows.  she’s kind of superstitious and willing to believe a lot of things -- especially things that can’t be especially disproven -- and can consolidate a world where most people reincarnate but maybe christians or something all turn into ghosts, and--

she also quietly believes in cute sounding myths, or old adages like “what will be will be” which she finds strangely comforting.  most things all point to her still being accounted for in the afterlife.

her big fear associated with death is leaving people she loves behind -- or how they’ll do without her there.  she doesnt want people she loves to dwell on her being gone.