#unplanned agenda

[moonkhao]

Do you think…. if your heart races whenever you’re around someone, does that mean you have feelings for that person? Even if it was never part of your plan. If there was no feeling, your heart wouldn't react. You need to own up to your feelings.

HIDDEN AGENDA | EP4

[hauntedhokage]

may iI request a no 22 with rin plsss

you can request anything you want bb. this might be one of my favorite prompts on the list

prompt: a kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party. from this list

note: continuing my cat dad!rin agenda

You’d woken up to an unplanned visitor in your bed, but happily snuggled into Rin when he kissed your head. A mumbled greeting follows, his voice still heavy with sleep though you’re not sure how much sleep he’d actually gotten since you don’t know when he’d gotten home. 

“When’d you get in?”

“Two, or something like that,” he mumbles back, loosening his grip to let you scoot up to be more at his eye level. “Didn’t really care, just wanted to be in bed with you. Where’s the cat?”

“Probably in the window hammock, he came to bed with me.” Your answer earns a hum, and you smile when he carefully cups your cheek, thumb rubbing against the apple of your cheek as he smiles at you. “Watched your match. As usual you looked really hot and good at the game.”

“Thank you, honey. Missed you a lot.”

“You always do,” you tease, leaning in for the kiss when he does and smiling at the feeling you’d missed for almost a week. The first kiss after his return is always a longer one, much more passionate to make up for time lost. Rin’s touch is always gentle, even when his kisses were hungrier than they normally are and he’s trying to get you on him for the reunion sex you both loved so much. “Missed you too, by the way.”

“You always do,” he mumbles against your lips, hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you while your hand slides through the silky smooth locks and pulling a moan from him when you tug at them to angle his head up. “Love you so much.”

“I love yo- hey!” You’re cut off by a furry body squirming into the space between you and Rin, a bap to your cheek before the cat is trying to snuggle into Rin’s neck. “Damn cat is a cockblock.”

“He just missed me just as much as you did.” A kiss to the cat’s head, and you’re smiling as you slide off of Rin to go cook breakfast. “Come back.”

[heartricky]

cuddling with the zb1 members

┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

word count: 638

ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪᴡᴏᴏɴɢ

cuddling with jiwoong would be so sweet! he'd have his arms around your waist, head snuggling into the junction between your neck and shoulder, breath evening out as he slowly falls asleep. he's the type of guy to fall asleep so fast when cuddling, so I can't imagine him being awake for long when you're both in bed with a movie on in the background.

ᴢʜᴀɴɢ ʜᴀᴏ

I am a huge supporter of the big spoon zhang hao agenda, his forehead leaning against the back of your own head, arm hooked loosely around your waist, pressing light kisses to the back of your neck, so lightly that it almost tickles. he'll say sweet words to you, tell you how much he loves you, enjoying his time with you every way possible.

ꜱᴜɴɢ ʜᴀɴʙɪɴ

sung hanbin, to me at least, is a little spoon, as much as he tries to deny it. that man loves feeling surrounded with love, and if you can bring that to him, both emotionally and physically, then he is on cloud nine. he pretends not to like it when you hug him from behind in your shared bed, but his pounding heart says very differently.

ꜱᴇᴏᴋ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡ

I love matthew so much, I want to cuddle him so bad. his toned, muscular arms hold you as you head lays on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and he'd cheesily say, "you hear that? my heart is beating for you", you'd laugh with him, hitting his chest lightly before snuggling more into him, enjoying the peace and love that he brings you.

ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʀᴀᴇ

hes a little spoon. no doubt about it. he just can't help but giggle, dimples on full display when you hook your arm loosely around his waist in the darkness of his room during an unplanned sleepover at his dorm, he loves you so much, and he loves that you complete him, the big spoon to his little spoon.

ʀɪᴄᴋʏ

you'd both lay facing each other, faces inches apart, just staring at each other, happy that the other person is with them and able to be so intimate like this. eventually, he'd bring his arm to the small of your back, pulling you into his chest, placing his head on top of yours, allowing the comfort to seep in even further, and both just completely relax in the others presence.

ᴋɪᴍ ɢʏᴜᴠɪɴ

I saw in the final that he sleeps on his stomach, so you'd be on your back whilst he lays on his stomach, head snuggling into your neck and an arm laying across your stomach, fiddling with the material of your cotton t-shirt - its really his but to him, what is his is yours as well. he'd also press light kisses to your neck, causing you to giggle lightly, before also pressing a kiss to his temple, attempting to stop the blush overtaking your cheeks.

ᴘᴀʀᴋ ɢᴜɴᴡᴏᴏᴋ

my giant baby I love him so much, as much as I would like to pretend that he is a big spoon, that man loves to babied, so he'd be facing you, head near your chest, as you play with the dark strands of his hair. he laughs lightly every now and again, unable to believe that you are his partner, just like you are unable to believe he is yours.

ʜᴀɴ ʏᴜᴊɪɴ

it may just be because of his age, but I really believe this boy doesn't like much skinship (have we seen him with gyuvin?), so if you two were to end up sleeping over at his house unexpectedly, it being too late to take you home now after a long day of hanging out after school, he just hold your hand, playing with your fingers as you drift off into morpheus' arms, him following slowly after.

[thefanficmonster]

please please please write something for Mickey altieri I love him sm

You know I love Mr. Altieri and I'm always happy to write for him 😉 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons darling 💕

~ Lots of love, Vy 💌

Mickey Altieri having a crush on you in college would include:

You told yourself you wouldn't date in college - for many reasons

Obviously, piles of schoolwork and many hours of studying awaited you and you couldn't imagine yourself forfeiting your future and neglecting all that work for a significant other

But also the upcoming four years are exactly the years meant for being wild and you couldn't afford missing out on any of that due to a commitment to another person

But at this point life had rudely taught you that things rarely go as you hope and plan them to

One of the variables you didn't factor into your planning was Mickey fucking Altieri

The sleek bastard

You'd caught his eye from day one - orientation day, to be exact

He was very fond to see you in his film class and with a bit of asking around he found out you too are a film major

He wasted no time pulling out every flirting trick he can ever remember working on you

All to be dismissed and rejected each and every time

But he's a persistent man, well aware of his charm and charisma

"I'm not your type, I get it. How about we start over? Friends?"

"In your dreams, Altieri." You roll your eyes at his poorly disguised attempt at poking through your guard

"How come you know my last name?"

Your eyes widen before you can stop them

You've just exposed your own snooping agenda

You'd be lying if you said you didn't conduct your own research on this man

Sure, he's attractive, fun to be around, charismatic - magnetic, almost

And, contrary to his claim, just your type

But you refuse to give in

That is until you realize that giving him a chance doesn't automatically mean establishing a relationship

Rather a dynamic

One with the potential to be quite fun and exciting at best

Interesting and eventful at worst

So, when he tries one more time, offering you nothing more than his company to a sorority party

You shock him by agreeing, retorting with a time at which you required him to pick you up from your dorm building

And pick you up he does

You roll your eyes at the corny gesture of a bouquet - or the sorry excuse for one he'd picked up on his way across campus

Still, you can't help but find it endearing

"I knew you'd like me eventually" he is getting cocky, reaching even, but as long as he's able to get a laugh out of you he's satisfied

"Don't hold your breath. I just wanted to go to a party."

"Yeah but you could've gone with anyone else. Just admit you like me, hell won't freeze over."

You narrow your eyes at him a part of you regretting the decision to accept his offer while another corner of your brain is looking forward to the evening the two of you are about to have

"Over my dead body"

Little do you know, he could easily get that arranged

But he'd never do that, not to you anyway

"Ten bucks says they disappear to make out an hour into the party." Hallie says, peering over at Sidney as the two observe their friend meet up for something they adamantly claimed wasn't a date

"You're on." Sid agrees, both girls giggling as they get back to getting ready for the party

A party you and Mickey disappear from about forty-five minutes in, earning Hallie ten dollars

The rest is history - history filled with Mickey poking fun at how quickly your resolve crumbled

Because now, four months later, you're celebrating three months of officially dating

This is one of those rare occasions when life works out a lot better than you'd originally planned it

Some things are better off unplanned

The best things in life come as a surprise, after all

[platonicsoulmatesstobin]

can't wait for all the conservative influencers to make videos about how byler was unplanned and pushing the gay agenda on youth😍 (I want to chew glass just thinking about it)

[hades-in-bloom]

A Swim | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

I somehow had it on repeat while writing *cracks up*

summary: Colorado wasn’t the only self-indulgent vacation that Kennedy took before he found a road to sobriety. When the world is the oyster, Bangkok is the pearl.

content: cheesy af (help me), older Leon, drunkard Leon, thus mentions of alcoholism; mentions of/implied thoughts of suicide, kinda light angst (obviously); Hunnigan with an agenda; gn! and a tad bossy reader with Interpol background; heavy sexual tension, swearing

author’s note: that was unplanned and uncalled for, proceed at your own risk. Also, I need to scream about the man in Death Island. Omfg.

if you’re a minor, go away <3

love y’all, you beautiful souls

xoxo

***

Ingrid called you in the middle of the night, reassuring that only you could track down the infamous Leon S. Kennedy. You breathed out a sleepy “…Why?” and got a response that you could barely consider an explanation. He took a vacation, Hunnigan said. He seemed to disappear, and she needed him back immediately. You could not see her face, but you could hear a pretty please in her voice.

“I am not even under D.S.O. command.” You groaned lightly. You have been working with several D.S.O. agents for the past couple of years, particularly with agent Kennedy, but you have been directly reporting to Interpol instead.

“I have already cleared you for this assignment,” Ingrid confessed. You stayed silent for a moment and then sighed. There wasn’t anything that Hunnigan could not do, after all. “He trusts you.”

As for you, Leon Kennedy trusted no one, but you wouldn’t get into this argument.

“Where was he seen last time?” You pulled yourself out of bed and walked towards the pair of jeans that were casually hanging from the only chair present in your room.

“Ingrid?” You called again when radio silence was your answer.

“We assume he is Bangkok, Thailand, since two days ago.” You sensed a touch of guilt in Hunnigan’s voice. “You have already been booked for a commercial flight.”

It took your tired brain a bit of time to do the math.

“Isn’t it like fifteen hours or so from JFK?” You inquired, genuinely concerned.

“Twenty hours,” Ingrid confirmed mercilessly. “You need to be at the airport within an hour.”

Rushing to your wardrobe, you devotedly cursed Kennedy to the high heavens.

***

Bangkok was hot. Your shirt became almost transparent in minutes and now felt like a second skin clinging to your body. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like any of it. Not until you find the son of a bitch, Kennedy, who went rogue due to no particular reason and made a decision to vacay on the other side of the planet Earth.

The taxi driver that you hailed on the street was painfully chatty, thanks to your creeping headache, but your suffering was about to end when your cab stopped in the middle of the road abruptly.

“That’s the place.” The driver told you in broken English, and you swiftly left the creaking vehicle that smelled of cheap cigarettes and incense.

The place was a dimly lit bar with little to no likable people inside. Damned Leon S. Kennedy was occupying one of the bar stools but was also spearheading the list of human beings that you felt no sympathy for at this particular moment.

He was drunk. You knew he appreciated his liquor, but you had never seen him even close to the condition he was in right now.

You briefly messaged Hunnigan that you have just found her “runaway bride” before shortening the distance to Leon’s chair. He made no effort to check out the newcomer, and you took it to your advantage.

“Surprise, you asshole.” You greeted him coldly. The agent blinked; you could see gears turn inside his intoxicated head while he was trying to identify you.

Finally, he grunted.

“The heck are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse. You blamed it all on some cheap brandy in his whiskey glass. “I am on vacation.”

“Your vacation is my vacation now, too, after Hunnigan made me fly twenty fuckin’ hours to find you.” You grimaced and took over the closest seat to Leon. He looked annoyed. You didn’t care.

“You look like you’ve had enough.” You concluded, having his drinking spree in mind.

He let out a drunken laugh that was devoid of joy. “What’s it to you if I have? I can take care of myself.” He scoffed and slurred his words a little.

A stubborn dumbass—you let out a heavy, irritated sigh. You felt your heat-infused headache intensifying.

“You cannot.” You gave him an unimpressed look. “At least I don’t consider it self-care when one drinks himself to death.” That was harsh, you thought. But right now he probably deserved it.

Your comment seemed to strike a chord with him.

“I told you I can take care of myself!” He raised his voice slightly, and some of the patrons looked over.

Jesus Christ. You wouldn’t consider yourself religious, though.

“How are you planning to take care of yourself?” You raised your voice slightly, too, giving him an unappreciative look. Suddenly, you quietly snapped. “I don’t know what you are thinking, Kennedy, but this is not a vacation. That’s a bloody suicide waiting to happen.”

You have seen alcoholics in your line of work before, and it didn’t matter what Leon thought of himself in this situation – but he looked like one.

To your surprise, he went silent, visibly taken aback. He blinked; there was a noticeable glimmer of confusion in Leon’s eyes.

Did not he realize that he was hurting himself this much?

“I’m fine…” Kennedy groaned, although his denial was slowly crumbling. “I’ll be fine…”

You could see he fought it – the alcohol numbed his feelings, but now, with a glimpse of sanity, they seemed to return to him in droves.

You watched him in awkward silence while he was babysitting his demons until he looked at you, both headstrong…

… and embarrassed?

“I swear, it would be better if Hunnigan sent some D.S.O. shrink, not you.” He grunted in disappointment, unwillingly sobering up. This vacation was over.

“Ingrid is worried about you.” You muttered, then scoffed. “And I’m your witness, Leon – you haven’t been fine in years. I know you long enough.”

He didn’t have to like what you said, but you thought he needed to hear this.

Leon gave you a dirty look. How could you see through him? The rest was tiptoeing around his alcoholism for ages, nurturing his drunken arrogance. You might not be nice, but what the others did was not kind.

The man cursed and fumblingly pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his Hawaiian-looking shorts; these made you stifle a chuckle. The image of invincible Leon S. Kennedy looking like this would be imprinted into your brain forever and ever.

He threw a few – too many – bills in local currency on the table and got himself up heavily from the bar stool. Now he towered over you grumpily. “What a buzzkill you are,” he mumbled, and you could smell that cheap brandy you noticed before on his breath.

You smirked, showing no remorse. “Let’s get you a cab, handsome.”

***

He stayed in one of the hotels right at the beach, and, stepping out of the taxi, you froze for a second, enjoying the view.

“That's one thing people got right about Thailand; it's beautiful here.” Leon hummed, approaching you from behind.

You still had your gaze fixed on the curves of the twilight bay when Kennedy spoke again. “You're right... I haven't been fine in years.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, making no attempts to hide your flabbergasted facial expression. Was this man admitting that he was wrong?..

Then pigs were about to start flying.

But Leon kept going.

“Do you want to know what's been happening in my head... How badly have things affected me?”

Was he even drunker than you thought?

“Yes, you dumbass.” You replied softly. Whether it was Ingrid’s push or not, Hunnigan was not the only one who cared about Leon to follow him around the globe.

The man walked towards the seashore, letting the waves lick his feet.

“My mind is so chaotic these days,” Kennedy admitted; his voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes, I even lose sleep at night because of the nightmares of...”

Leon hesitated. You didn’t nudge, afraid of ruining his mood. He has already called you a buzzkill once.

At last, he sighed. Why was it so hard to talk about it?

“I made promises I couldn’t keep; that’s all you need to know.” Leon summed it up without looking at you. Did he really want to talk about it? You followed his tired, unfocused gaze, staring at the horizon.

“How about a swim?” Your suggestion came out of nowhere. You tilted your head, waiting for his response, and he glanced at you, confused, for the first time in the past moments.

Leon then let out a laugh in a drunken manner. “What? Now? In my state? I'll sink straight to the bottom.”

“You decided to vacation in Thailand – and not to swim?” You rolled your eyes at him jokingly and pulled him by his wrist. “Come on, Kennedy.” You begged. You might have been a tad aggressive back then, in the bar, but now…

You thought he deserved a break.

Leon groaned slightly but didn’t fight it, tagging along behind you. He felt a little dizzy; the cheapness of the served brandy was finally getting to him. Despite it all, he scoffed, his tone friendlier than before. “You are not going to let me forget that I am on vacation here, are you?”

You smirked, stepping into the gentle ocean waters and shamelessly ignoring his question. “We are not going to go far. I won’t let you drown, Kennedy.”

He smirked. “I trust you.” Oh, did he? Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine when you recalled Hannigan’s words. Why were you special?

You submerged in the water further with no regard to your clothes, now soaking wet. Leon, to your amusement, did the same.

“That should help with your hangover tomorrow.” You gave him a dirty look, and he huffed out a laugh.

“What's with all the dirty looks you've been giving me all day? You think I deserve it?”

“Oh, you deserve all of them.” You snorted - right before he pulled you by the waist, making you scoff out of surprise. You froze, barely reaching his chin covered with two-day stubble.

“You are drunk, Kennedy.” You reminded him softly, still making no attempts to leave his embrace. His intense gaze was trained on you.

“I'm not that drunk,” he scoffed, a grin forming on his lips. What the heck was going on?

“Oh, you are that drunk, Kennedy.” You smirked at him.

And then you felt it; his lips crashed into yours. Unconsciously, your hand darted to his hair, playing with the dirty blonde strands. A soft moan escaped your lips.

What were you thinking? It felt so wrong; you have been partners for years, and you didn’t like to mix work and pleasure. And if he had an excuse, let alone an awful one, to kiss you, you had none.

It felt so good, though.

Leon pulled away from your lips only when your lungs started to burn with a lack of air. His grin was too cheeky for your liking.

“You don't mind spending the night with me, do you?” The audacity.

You smirked. “I’ll spend a night with you when you sober up, handsome.” Otherwise, one of you might have regretted it – while him standing in front of you with wet hair and a soaked-up t-shirt made you hot and bothered. Damn, that man was fine. One way or another, at least.

“You should get to bed, Kennedy.” … And sleep through that hangover.

“Just one more…” He mumbled—one more taste of your lips. “... For today.”

Liar. So you whined into his lips softly when he kissed you again. And again.

Forcing yourself out of the water later, you looked at the boiling ocean; the waves crashed against each other as the sun set behind them. It took you all your willpower to let go of him this evening, and the only thought that brought you peace was that he was suffering at the loss of contact as much as you were.

***

You called him the following morning when you were making yourself a coffee.

“Hey.” Your lips curved into a smile. “How is your hangover, handsome?”

Leon, barely awake, first laughed, then groaned, and there was an audibly sound note of hangover in his voice, too.

“A dreadful headache... And I can still taste you on my lips, which doesn't help.” Your breath hitched. His comment about him tasting you stained your cheeks bright pink.

He yawned. “…I feel like crap.”

You mischievously bit your lip, although your tone was innocent. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Leon, no doubt, knew precisely what would make him feel better right now.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

~*~

1. Itmf the warmest, comfiest wangxian fics that feel like snuggling up next to the fire with a blanket and a cup of cocoa/tea. @vi-sky

🧡 paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53k, WangXian, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Modern AU, Dadji, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Brief Alcohol Mention, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Accidentally co-parenting with your son's art teacher, Fatherhood)

The Art of Communication by mrcformoso (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Engineering Student WWX, Music Student LWJ, Swimmer WWX, Martial Artist LWJ, POV Outsider, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Communication Issues, But Wanxian Makes it Work, LWJ has limited words, WWX has too many words, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Languages, Requited Love)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, WangXian, Modern AU, single dad lwj,   Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let lwj have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

Worship you till morning comes by feyburner (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, First Dates, First Time, Fluff, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Falling In Love)

I know what my heart wants  by yakuso5u (Not Rated, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Father LWJ,   Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Accidental Child Acquisition, Domestic, Slice of Life, Christmas references)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

can you feel it by lanzhancore (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Slice of Life, Fluff and Humor, Idiot Lovers, Crack Treated Seriously)

I'll buy you the moon (I'll buy you two) by Thesaurus_with_no_words (E, 27k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Space, Rebels, Space Opera, On the Run, Promoted To Parent, Robots, Androids, Mechs, Battle Mechs, Hurt/Comfort, Technopathy, Willful and Deliberate Baby and Wife Acquisition, Porn With Plot, Mpreg)

~*~

2. Itmf wangxian fics where a) sizhui saves WWX b) best big brother nie mingjue and c) the lans take in WWX and are super supportive (similar to Where is home? and Stunted, Starving Juvenility)

2A)

Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not Rated, 46k, WangXian, Family Feels, good uncle JC, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Junior Quartet, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It)

~*~

3. hello! i would like to know if there are new wangxian mpreg fics especially pregnant wwx, please!

The Legend of Moonflower by JJSIN2020 (E, 94k, wangxian, 3zun, A/B/O, Emperor LWJ, LWJ FUCKS, he has a whole harem of male omegas so of course he does, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Beta LXC, Omega JC, Omega XY, Omega XXC, omega SS, Omega OYZZ, Beta NHS, Mpreg, Wolves, Angst with a Happy Ending, Imperial China, Character Death, Fighting, Blood, WIP)

My Heart is a Cavern of Longing, Please come home? by LadyVamp (E, 50k, wangxian, rape/non-con, graphic depictions of violence, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Bitch WWX, Forced Marriage, Accidental Baby Acquisition, YLLZ WWX, Oblivious WWX, wangxian Get a Happy Ending, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Depressed WWX, Sex In A Cave, Uncontrolled heats, JZX Lives, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pining, LSZ is a Ray of Sunshine, Child LJY, LJY is WangXian's son, alpha to omega, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnant WWX, Mpreg)

The best kept secrets (taste the sweetest) by h0peless_oblivion (T, 13k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Child LSZ, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Fluff, Angst, It's angsty for like 5 minutes then it's happy endings from here on out I swear, Secret Baby, Past pining while fucking, Happy Ending, WWX doesn’t lose his golden core, ossible SA (not between wangxian), Madam Lán Backstory, Good Uncle LQR, WIP)

there is a lantern shining dark (upon this winter's day) by AnnaAphrodite (T, 21k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & LWJ, LWJ & OFCs, major character death, Not Everyone Dies AU, Mpreg, A/B/O, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega WQ, Beta WN, Pregnant LWJ, Implied Bottom LWJ, Supportive LQR, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, Good Older Sibling LXC, Good Uncle LXC, LWJ & NHS Friendship, LWJ & WQ Friendship, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Bitching, Minor arranged marriage between LXC and a female oc, LXC does have a slightly morally grey moment, but he means well)

~*~

4. ITMF canon era fics where wwx is:

A) Artist

B) musician

C) dancer @constellationdks

I'm here for recently ITMF post #4: thnx for all the suggestions but they are not what I'm looking for. In my post I said Canon era, all the fics suggested are modern.

4A)

🔒 Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, WangXian, Not Jiang Family Friendly, WangXian gets a happy ending)

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 74k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, Happy Ending, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, Módào Zǔshī & The Untamed Combination, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Angst, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Idiots in Love)

obscura: ink stain by AvoOwO (M, 20k, wangxian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, Emotions, Heavy Angst, Painting, Temporary Amnesia, Drugs, Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drink Spiking, Victim Blaming, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ Has a Crush, Soft wangxian, Holding Hands, Blood and Violence, Good Sibling JC, Protective JC, WWX is a Mess, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Protective LXC, Good Sibling LXC, Good Uncle LQR, LQR Tries, OCs, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, WWX Needs a Hug, someone gets punched a lot, LWJ contemplates murder for a moment, JC almost gets it done, not quite about romance, as much as romance elements there, more so about the small things, LWJ loves how WWX smells, some nasty things are said, WWX def needs a nap, he gets one dw, LQR Gets Shit Done, NHS Is A Little Shit, Scheming NHS)

( 不忘 | Don’t Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Devotion, Reunions, Feelings, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, Names, References to Canon, Modern Era, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note) is a canon/modern time travel fic with artist!wwx. )

the best of you by sysrae (E, 41k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, slightly undernegotiated kink, but in a very soft and consensual way, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JFM and Mdm yu's A+ parenting, Dysfunctional Family, Mental Health Issues, Reference to animal attacks/animal cruelty, descriptions of past violence)

For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm (E, 170k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Pining, Porn, like in the writing and also as a plot point, onlyfans au, repressed LWJ, sex worker WWX, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Background ChengQing, background NieLan, background XuanLi, Nonbinary NHS) photographer and sex worker

To See You (Again) by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 84k, WangXian, Modern AU, London, No Magic AU, lan zhan FUCKS, But Like Bottomji Fucks, Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Pining, Grindr, Light Bondage, mild D/s themes, Experienced LWJ, Less Experienced WWX, straight boy wwx)

adoration by Lunarieen (T, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Artist/Model AU, Childhood Friends, Sensuality, Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Art as Love Language, Character Study, Friends to Lovers, Gender Exploration, a little bit of dissociation)

4B)

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx's biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

When the Lights Come Up by brooklinegirl (E, 50k, WangXian, background 3Zun, Notting Hill AU, Modern AU, famous WWX/non famous LWJ, Break ups and make ups, Musician WWX, bookseller LWJ)

4C)

A Flower in Bloom (or Wei Wuxian Crashes a Party) by UmbrellaMartialGod (E, 30k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Crossdressing, Humor, Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Festivals, Dancer WWX, Insecurity, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings, mild possessive behavior)

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, wangxian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Everyone Lives AU, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant, WIP)

4c dancer wwx fic: canon era wwx is raised by a group of traveling performers. I believe he was a fan dancer and possibly a musician as well

notes on a scene by wishingswell (M, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Ballet, Fluff)

space, skin, muscle, bone by tombenough_and_continent (T, 23k, WangXian, Modern AU, Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, Non-Linear Narrative, Dance, Background SongXiao, background NieLan, a surprising amount of texting, gratuitous use of ballet terminology)

Falling to the Rhythm by Selenay (E, 128k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Dance, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Dancer!WWX, Violinist LWJ, Pining While Dancing, Oblivious WWX, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Gratuitous dancing descriptions, Slow Burn, [Podfic] Falling to the Rhythm by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste (T, 47k, WangXian, SongXiao, Modern AU, Everyone's alive, the gang defeats systemic heteronormativity, Stripper AU, competitive ballroom dance AU, really stupid misunderstandings, Yearning, Mutual Pining, the wrist grab, lwj makes a friend (who isn't wwx!), modern au but it's still set in Fantasy China (Gusu/Yiling/Lanling) rather than Real China, LWJ's pov, Erotic Handholding)

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5. Heyy ! I am in the mood for a fic where lan zhan is a therapist ! (wether wx is his patient or not isn’t relevant ) thank youuuu @sebyyw

Deep Dive by MimiSpearmint (E, 24k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Modern AU, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng are Bad at Communicating, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Therapy, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Career Ending Injuries, counsellor!lwj, background NieLan, Melbourne, Eventual Smut, Crack, Baby JL, domestic abuse is discussed but does not happen, Baby LSZ, Baby LJY, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Good Sex Practices, Implied Slight D/s, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Cameos by various minor characters)

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6. hi! i would like to know if you know any fics where

A) someone goes off about how demonic cultivation is dangerous/immoral etc and gets their argument refuted

B) wwx teaching other people demonic cultivation

C) kind of an overlap between the two above, but any fic where wwx considers demonic cultivation worth pursuing even after the book's end/has some pride towards his accomplishments of creating it @chellsky

6A)

Cradle by Dragonesque (T, 196k, WIP, Canon Divergenc, Adopted children, Yiling Wei Sect, BAMF WWX) For #6 a & b, forgetting the name but it's super long ao3 qiongqi path au, for want of a nail, Jin zixuan lives and wwx gets hurt. Accidental yilingwei sect. Wwx gives a bunch of wen's the wei surname, it was inspired by a 2ch incomplete fic. Anyone know what I'm talking about? / I think 6A OP is talking about is Cradle by Dragonesque on AO3?

6B)

no one ever said the single-plank bridge had to be walked alone by rosemu (T, 124k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect au, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Fluff, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, LWJ and WWX get to be Dads together, the healing power of homoerotic flute/guqin duets, Happy Ending) WWX takes on MXY & XY as disciples

Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Canon Divergence, Ghost WWX, Hurt/comfort, Family bonding, Fluff, Angst) if I remember correctly, has ghost!WWX teaching mxy demonic cultivation

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7. I’m in the mood to read a great many things, but I’d really appreciate it if you could do a rec list of fics where wwx gets to flex being a talisman master/a badass with talismans(knowingly or not) or an updated list for Immortal Lan Wanji x either reincarnated wwx or also immortal wwx. I feel like generally the first just isn’t tagged and that I’ve already read all the good ones under the other.

Btw, I’m not asking for both unless you want to compile both. Just whichever list sounds more fun to make/ find fics for.

Help expanding my library would be very much appreciated.🙏 @omgnectarina

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8. If you do find this fic, would you also recommend something in this similar theme? LWJ doing things for family and not being happy and LQR finds out and regrets his actions? @lailan-rosie (last part from a FF)

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression, Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing)

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9. Hiiiiiiiiii, How are you guys?

Im in the mood for a modern au fic where lwj and wwx are in a committed relationship but break up due to wwx over-committment to the wens or jiangs. It can be because they dont get to spend enough time together or its taking a toll on wwx and they fight about it. Whatever it is - i want wwx to be the one who realises things and has to make amends. Happy endings ofcourse.

I have seen many fics along this plot line BUT lwj is always the one apologizing and putting in the extra effort to be accommodating. It might just be me but i dont think thats fair. So pleeeeeeease recommend some fics where wwx puts in the work to fix things

KILF (Knits I'd Like To Fuck in) by ScarlettStorm (E, 168k, wangxian, modern, sex work, fiber arts, 2nd in series) is a long fic but it has a fight at the end of chapter 17 which is related to WWX being overcommitted (partly to JWY, I guess), and he has to be the one to try and make that right. They don’t break up, but it is a significant fight.

~*~

10. Hey! I’ve never really done one of these but figured I might as well give it a shot. I recall in one of your posts you recommended Stunted, Starving Juvenility. Long story short, I took it and ran away with it. Now I’m pleading for any similar Fics like Stunted Starving Juvenility (Preferably no slow burns unless it’s really good) @neverforgetyou-1

Silenced With A Kiss by NinjaKK (E, 120k, WIP, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Flirting, Teen Romance, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Soft WangXian, WWX in WWX’s Body, Secret Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Dates, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Ripple Effect, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Optional Smut, Supportive LWJ, BAMF WWX, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Has an Angry LWJ Kink)

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11. heyyy sorry for bothering you guys. itmf for more fics like Concord by deastar (currently in the angsty mood, specifically wwx feeling sad) thank you for your hard work! @aquiver-heart

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12. In the mood for fics where either lwj/ wwx is something akin to butler in A) canon era/ canonverse B) modern or 19XXs or future ✨

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13. Hi! Any fanfic about junior shenanigans saw how scary wwx is? (Especially when they saw the Yiling Laozu Era)

Thank you so much! @just-for-browsing-stuffs

~*~

14. Itmf fics where person X is " as long as I'm here, no one can hurt you... " To person Y

A) X= lwj and Y= wwx

B) X= wwx and Y= jc and/or jyl

C) X is anyone, Y is wwx

Haha sorry for this format of asking, but I can't help it, I've been doing maths for hours now...

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15. Hello! For the next itmf I was looking for a fic where NHS asks WWX for help with NMJ’s saber cultivation problem and WWX manages to save him and prevent him from dying. Ideally with 3zun too but it’s fine if not. Thanks!

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) It's WWX going to NHS asking for help, but otherwise fits the request

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16. First part added to a Finder post ~Mod L // Also I would like more fics where wwx has a tiger/lion, i don't mind it being modern

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17. I want to read Wangxian future series watching fanfiction. Can someone suggest me few fanfiction in these genre @abz18699-blog

Characters watching/reading their series fic comp

Reaction_fanfics collection Try Oracle of Pearl . It's Future Viewing series of Wangxian.

Wangxian: Oracle pearl by Abby18699 (G, 183k, WIP, Wang Xian, ChengQing, NieLan, XuanLi, Sunshot Campaign, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Future, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Güsü Lán Juniors Dynamics, JC Needs a Hug, Characters React to Fandom, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Pining LWJ, Soft LWJ, LWJ Needs a Hug, Inventor WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Characters watching future, Implied Mpreg)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[zabimarushoney67]

Hello! I wanted to known if I could request slow sensual sex with Shinji Hirako???

Oooomgosh omgosh yessss! This is gonna be so good 🙏🏼 Highkey have been waiting for a NSFW fic with Shinji 💀 Thank you so much! for the request and I hope you enjoy! (I went on a blind hiatus during this im so sorry lmao it’s done tho!)

🔥Under Fire🔥

Shinji Hirako x Fem!Reader

NSFW+18💦MDI⚠️REC.DU💨FLUFF💟MODERN A.U✨

Summary: Shared but masked feelings, making love wasn’t apart of the agenda. For you though, Shinji is ready for anything.

Warnings: Modern alternative universe, strong language, sensual lovemaking, praise kink, marking(hickies, bite marks), fingering, oral!sex (reader receiving), vaginal!penetration, hand holding, sweet talk, supple kisses, blunt smoking, friends with benefits turned serious, budding romantic feelings, fluff throughout.

Authors Notes: AH FINALLY I HAVE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS 😩 SHINJI WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME AND I AM OKAY WITH THAT! Also! Bad Omens reeeeaallly set the mood for this thing, like ONG absolute perfection!😭🤌🏽

Loud music bumped over the nightclub speakers, rumbling through the wooden floors with everyone’s moving feet. Flashing lights colored the hundreds of bodies that were crammed together like sardines on the dance floor, Shinji’s gentle hands were on your hips, he watched them sway in time with the movements of his fit body.

Drunk and feeling the music, the beating vibration warmed your body up against Shinji. A feeling like sparks igniting, consuming you in his spiritual flames. Shinji flowed with your body on the dance floor. Shifting his hips, he pressed them up against your frayed denim shorts, groaning to himself as he felt your body press, and relax back into him.

He swallowed hard as he peered down your body, his steely eyes devoured the slick and shiny skin under your halter-neck tank top. Feeling your hand wrap around his neck and grip him there, finally had him leaning into your ear to speak up. “Hey, you wanna get outta here soon darlin?” His voice reverberated something needy and demanding. Shinji teasingly licked the shell of your ear, nibbling down the side of your neck as you rolled your hips across his quickly hardening groin.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder speaking into his ear, “Sure, yeah that sounds good! But I have to finish my drink first,”. Rolling his eyes, he released his grip on you. Holding your hand softly he followed closely behind you as you lead him back to the table where Lisa, Kensei, Renji, Izuru, and Shuhei sat.

Hoping you two could slip away unnoticed, Shinji huffed. Now in a forced position to say goodbye and come up with a reason for disappearing yet again, at a friendly get-together, Shinji was less than thrilled. Not an outcome he was hoping for, but if it meant he could leave sooner with you without a bickering match, it would be worth it. Moving to the quieter, darker part of the club where your table was, y/n grabbed the air toward her drink, lazily leading Shinji behind her.

Renji passed her the drink, as she finally anchored herself at the front of the table. Bringing the cute, yellow bendy straw to her lips she sucked down the blue fruity cocktail, bobbing her head in time with the music.

“Looks like you two are having all the fun,” Renji commented, “We are, but,” y/n started saying before taking another sip of her drink, “We're actually gonna head out early for the night,” she said tightening her grip on Shinji’s hand, silently asking him for some back up if her unplanned plan backfired.

Everyone's heads turned at that comment and landed on both you and Shinji, Shuhei caught Shinji’s hand being held captive by yours and only nodded in his direction. The rest of the gang sighed outwardly, “Really? Already?” Renji questioned with a grimace, “But we just got here!” a drunk Lisa sang out. “Oh let them go, they'll just disappear somewhere anyway,” Kensei huffed, taking a languid sip of his old fashion.

The rumor was true. You had secretly been seeing Shinji on the side for a while now. He established a friend-with-benefits situation a few months back.

On that day, running some errands with him, Shinji had bluntly come forward with his attraction toward you. It seemingly came out of nowhere, but you had been so fond of him already that you even held your suspicions, that he felt the same. The sex has been a reliable release for you, it sated a need you didn’t even know you had until you started seeing him regularly during the week.

The both of you had tried to keep it down low and out of sight, trying not to start any gossip. It seemed everyone eventually caught on, since every time you all got together, you and Shinji always ended up disappearing.

Usually off somewhere alone for a quick meet up and then return to the function, but the longer the agreement went on the more often you two went off just to be together, sexual or not.

“Are you guys leaving already?” Izuru chimes in with the rest of the crowd, walking up behind you and Shinji with a handful of shots. “Yeah…” Shinji replied slowly, blatantly fronting his irritation at the current embarrassing circumstances. “That’s lame,” “take one before you go,” Izuru rolled his eyes, pushing a shot into both y/n and Shinji’s free hands.

Just as y/n finished her cocktail, she threw the shot back like a champ, before anyone else had even lifted their shot. Shinji would stand corrected if he thought he was the one who wanted to leave this god forsaken club first.

(...)

Walking back to y/n’s downtown apartment not far from the club, y/n held onto her shoulders. Chilled, after leaving the heat of the nightclub and into the late summer night. “Jeez. Woman,” “This is why I told you to bring a jacket,” Shinji sighed.

Wrapping you in his brown leather jacket he remarks “And who said chivalry is dead?”. “I didn't know it would be this cold,” y/n muttered quietly, gripping the sides of his jacket and enclosing herself in its warmth. “You’re half naked, with your hair in that... Cute messy bun style you know I love so much on you,” “Of course, you're gonna be cold, sometimes I think you do it on purpose,” he smiled to himself as the words left his mouth. “Absolutely not!” y/n spat back defensively, knowing deep down that he was... Well, he was kind of right.

Something has been different lately. Even before leaving for the club, Shinji had ran through a whole checklist before he would even allow you to step out of the door. ‘Have you eaten yet?’ ‘Do you have everything in that purse of yours?’ ‘Are you sure you don’t wanna bring a jacket?’ just to name a few examples. There was a new profound softness in all of Shinji’s actions that pertained to you, it felt good, natural even, like it should’ve been this way the entire time.

Needless to say y/n was rather enjoying the new treatment, it made her heart patter ever so lightly allowing more room for her fondness to grow for the infamous jokester, who now turned out to be an infamous gentleman as well.

(…)

Finally arriving back home in the safe confines of Y/n’s apartment, y/n shook off her heels and threw his jacket on the coat rack while Shinji carelessly strolled in behind, removing his shoes. The beginning steps of y/n’s ‘time for bed’ ritual took place, and Shinji got comfy removing his tie, loosening his shirt a bit and rolling up his sleeves. Y/n stood in the mirror, wiping off her makeup in the bathroom, closest to her bedroom. Shinji sat on the bed, rolling up a blunt for the both of you. One of his many playlists lulls over the sound system, filling the bedroom with a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Once cleaned up and dressed down in some of her comfy shorts and an oversized T-shirt, y/n joined Shinji on the plush mattress, sitting crisscrossed with a glass of iced water. “Man, nightclubs are not my thing anymore,” y/n said rubbing her eyes, groaning softly from the slight headache she received after the few hours of drinking and dancing.

“So, let me get this straight,” “You’re saying,” “You would rather be at home,” “Chilling… and smoking weed with me… in your bed?” Shinji drawled out turning his head in your direction, with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. “Shut it and light it, goofy,” y/n sneered at the blonde man, smacking him lightly on the shoulder and breathily laughing at his stupid, dumb remark. So stupid it left your face catastrophically red. Seriously, what was up with this guy? His smooth words, and even smoother hair. None of it made sense, or it did… just why now? Shinji was the adamant one on the, ‘this is nothing serious, I just want to have fun with you,’ part of the agreement.

Putting his hand upon your upper thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. Shinji places the blunt between his lips, it hangs so artfully from them as he goes to light it. Pulling out an engraved zippo lighter, he flips it open. The bright blue flame quickly engulfed the tip of the tobacco paper, and a sweet aroma of the white grape drifted through the air while the paper burned to ash, quickly followed by the delightful smell of weed. These night are always the best when shared together, y/n thought. Allowing her mind to wander through the current moment, a sudden swell of emotion had begun overflowing her body.

(…)

A few passes and over half a blunt later, the two leaned against the wooden headboard, their bodies heavy from the weed that swirled through them. Y/n laid her head on Shinji’s shoulder, while his arm encompassed her close against his warm, slumped body. Shinji puffed on his handiwork, relaxing further into y/n’s weight. Rolling waves of smoke lingered in the air and filled the dimly lit room, while the two lay together sailing through the clouds. The entwinement of their bodies and limbs being the only thing that kept them grounded in reality.

“Earlier…” “Walking back here,” “You said, you loved when my hair is up,” y/n said softly, pausing before continuing, “What are some other things you… ‘love’ about me?” She asked curiously, with her breath hitching in her chest.

Shinji’s eyes widened at her question, breathing a heavy hit from his nose, he hurriedly took another, sucking it deep into his lungs. “Well…” he said as the smoke poured from his mouth. “There’s lots of things…” “like the way you’ll scrunch your nose up at my gross jokes,” Shinji said chuckling to himself. “Or the way you’ll blush and look away whenever I compliment you…” “Or my favorite…” he paused again. “the little dance you do when you’re eating something you like...” he stopped there smiling to himself, but not wanting to dredge any further into that topic.

Y/n lay on his shoulder dazed, “Oh..” she breathed, blushing from his words. “I was fully prepared for you to say something along the lines of,” “I love the way your lips look around my cock darlin’,” she said, trying but failing to do an impression of Shinji.

“First of all,” “I do not sound like that,” Shinji laughed heartily at y/n’s endearing impression of him. “Secondly, I love it when you look like that,” he corrected, taking another hit before handing it over to y/n. “Oh yeah?” She said giggling, “Oh yeah,” Shinji said before his soft fingers slid up the side of your cheek and turned your face towards him.

Leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, he pulled away ever so slightly, blowing his smoke into your mouth and kissing you again after. “I love it a lot,” he said, inches away from your face. His words sang, traveling through y/n’s ears and making them ring with their sweetness, flowing down her body and resting comfortably in the pit of her stomach.

Blinking softly at Shinji, y/n exhaled the smoke. A soft shade of pink stained her cheeks as she stared into his grey hooded eyes. A crafty smile plastered across Shinji’s face as he caressed your cheek under his thumb. Y/n leaned into his touch before bringing the end of the blunt to her lips.

Glancing down at y/n’s full lips encompassing the tip of the blunt, Shinji drank your expression in full. He mimicked your blushing shyness as he pulled his hand away. “Goddamn…” “You are so fucking pretty,” “You know that?” He said biting his lip, he shook his head in disbelief and scoffed. “It makes me wonder why no one’s snatched you up yet,” insecurity silently started weaving itself into his usually unwavering confidence.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” “More fun for me after all,” Shinji said going silent afterward. “For me, I think maybe...” “it's because I have you in my back pocket, and everyone knows it,” y/n stated blatantly, “We haven't exactly been hiding it,” shrugging her shoulders, she put the roach out in the ashtray. “Or maybe...” “it's because I would rather have you…” “So I decline everyone who’s tried,” a hefty blush returned to her face as y/n avoided eye contact with the blonde man lying next to her.

“Oh yeah?” Shinji said with a side smile and raised eyebrow, cocking his head down at you. “...Yeah,” y/n murmured after a moment of diligent thinking. Shinji’s hand cupped your chin softly, begetting your stare back in his direction. His face grew hot all over again when he peeked at the soft, lustful eyes of y/n as they peered down at his lips. Flashing quickly back to his eyes, y/n leaned in and molded her lips gently against Shinji’s.

(...)

Her sudden emotional ministration left Shinji blinking widely, the blush on his face crept up to the tips of his ears while she kissed him deeply. Melting into her kiss and releasing a breath from his nose, he pushed firmly back into y/ns wanting mouth, groaning as she parted his lips with her sly tongue.

Twisting his torso, Shinji slowly pushed you into the pillows, as he climbed on top. Supporting his weight on his forearms, y/n’s plush thighs hugged his waist while he got comfy between them. Her soft hands held his face, gently stroking the short stubble on his jawline, keeping him over her mouth as their tongues played and explored one another.

Soft moans roused from y/n when Shinji shifted to his knees, pushing her thighs up and over his. Rising to his palms, he gazed down at you, his face flushed and lips parted. Quick, broken breaths left his mouth, and Shinji felt his heart thump against his sternum. A strange, foreign feeling washed over his body. Arousal, lust, and something else... Passion? maybe. Y/n’s fingers tentatively reached for the first button of his shirt and slowly pulled each of them apart, staring intently at the buttons as they came undone and revealed his smooth skin underneath.

Sitting back on his heels, Shinji shrugged off his shirt and tugged it free of his jeans, tossing it to the side of the bed. Returning to his position over you, he caught your mouth in a greedy kiss. Awash with his need for you, his hand clasped your still-clothed breast gripping and kneading it underneath his palm. Y/n’s hands explored the expanse of his now open back. She remembered every flowing line of tensed muscle and the way they seem to relax under her hand that softly caressed each spot.

(...)

Shinji’s lips smashed against yours, nibbling at you playfully, and sucking your lower lip. With the intense feeling of being engulfed in everything that was Shinji in this minuscule moment, the heat started quickly swallowing y/n’s breath underneath the man's lanky form.

His needy mouth traveled from your lips down your jaw, pushing your head away, and giving the feral man access to your supple neck. Y/n’s head spun violently under his frantic, but somehow artful duress. Her body begged to feel his warmth, begged for him to give her what she needed.

Y/n found herself lost in the present moment, stuck in some places of her past, but somehow still excited for the future that was to be paved, and hopefully with Shinji by her side. Releasing his grip on your chest, both of his hand's fumble around, trying to find yours. Enterlacing his fingers within yours he pushes your palms into the bed, pinning you underneath him.

Shinji continued his crusade down your neck, licking and softly kissing the sensitive skin that lay vulnerable to him. Y/n can feel a smile form on his lips when she wailed out from the sharp feeling of his canines pinching her skin.

Covering the small welt with his mouth, and running his tongue over it Shinji sucks the skin of your neck. Grunting lowly when he feels you arch your back into his unrelenting torture. Releasing you from his mouth, he continues his play time to the other side of your neck. There, he kisses down to your exposed collarbone where he begins to repeat the same teasing ritualistic behavior, marking you with a large purple hickey.

(...)

At his total mercy, and laying completely helpless underneath him y/n bucks her hips against him. Trying, and trying again to find some friction to sedate the growing arousal between her legs. The flimsy cloth of her shorts and her lacy panties discouraged any true form of relief. They numbed her sensation just enough that it became a nuisance trying to do it herself. That was until Shinji finally understood what you were after. Freeing a hand from your grasp, he lowered it to your slick heat.

Surpassing the confinement of cloth, he delves in between your plump lips. Massaging the wetness that collected there, he hummed in appreciation at how worked up you had become with just some sloppy kisses and heavy panting. Two fingers rubbed in gentle circles around your clit. “You’re such... Ah!” “A goddamn tease!” y/n said forcibly.

She desperately wiggled her hips against his fingers, wishing he'd hit the spot he knew she loved. Shinji’s slender fingers always left y/n in a full trance. The way they magically danced across her skin, and brought about the most helpless of whimpers from y/n. The sounds Shinji knew, he was the only one who could force from you. “C’mon darlin’” “You know I love the way you sound,” “Let me hear you,” Shinji breathed against your skin before snatching you into another soul-devouring kiss.

“Let me feel you then,” y/n pulled away from him and retorted in frustration. Grabbing his wrist she pushed him further toward her dripping, needy heat. “Don’t be like that baby,” “I was gettin' there,” he smirked against your mouth. Sinking his fingers into your mess of a hole, he slowly pulled his fingers against the spongy pad on your upper wall, massaging in little circles.

Positioning his thumb he pressed on your swelling clit, rubbing and prodding the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with his curling fingers. “That's such a good look on you y/n,” Shinji smiled greatly as he peered down at your pleasure-contorted face.

“Faster..! Please!” y/n begged, shooting Shinji a needy glimpse and biting her lip to egg him further. “Nah,” “I want to enjoy this...” he said softly as he continued his sermon of repetitive motions. Y/n whined loudly, bordering on a temper tantrum. “Goddamn.” “You're so fucking cute when you're frustrated,” Shinji confessed in admiration, softly smooching your cheek before traveling feather-light kisses toward your ear. Taking your earlobe in between clenched teeth, he shoves his fingers into your aching core, reveling in the shout y/n released from his perfectly timed and careful actions.

(...)

Feeling your body convulse and twitch underneath him, was most certainly egging him on, more than ever before. His cock raged against the tight confinement of his jeans, throbbing in time with all the little jolts that ran throughout y/n’s body. “I think that'll do,” Shinji said before removing all stimulation away from y/n. “W-what?” y/n protested as she tried grabbing his hand to keep him posted in their position. Sitting up, Shinji unbuckled his belt letting it fall open. “Take your clothes off,” he demanded, his voice sounding a lot like how it did at the nightclub.

Blinking dumbfounded, y/n obeys and starts removing her shirt. Shinjis's hands helped lift it and pull it over your head as he discarded it with his shirt on the side of the bed. Y/n hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down her thighs. Shinji pushed your legs up straight and pulled them off. “Keep the panties on,” “They're cute,” he remarked. He peeked down at the floral red lace tanga-styled panties that sat high on your waist, accentuating your curvy hips and pillowy thighs. His strong hands grab hold of your ankles and kept them in the air, “Bend your knees so they touch your chest,” “They don’t leave that spot until I say,” Shinji warned, his tone sounding serious as he positioned and instructed you on how he wanted to take you for the night.

Y/n hummed happily, lulling her head to the side roused a questioning look upon Shinji’s face. “Somethin' funny doll?” He asks, his palms pushing your thighs up to your chest. “You’re just so sexy when you’re in charge,” y/n explained with a grin. “Do it more often,” she said, silently challenging him, and staring directly into his eyes.

Shinji didn't respond with words but rather with his actions. Running his fingers over the lace of your pussy lips, a small smirk draws on his face once he saw your eyebrows draw together slightly from his touch.

Peering down at you and your position, his face suddenly softens. The position he wanted you in left you exposed to him, vulnerable almost. Somehow your words spoke of the trust you had in him and the confidence you held for him, knowing that he knew how to take care of you in every regard. It took Shinji by complete surprise the more he thought about what you said. Maybe he was thinking too much into it but something felt different from you, about you, he only understood that he couldn’t let you down now.

(...)

Quickly removing his black jeans, Shinji crawled back onto the mattress. He laid on his elbows while his face took place over your dripping cunt, his cock throbbed at the sight before him. The cotton insert of your panties drowned in your juices, scarcely containing your folds as it stretched thin between your plump lips. Like a ripe peach that hung from a branch and was ready for the picking, Shinji stared mesmerized by your intimate beauty. The aroma of your lust and the warmth that waited inside, made Shinji’s mouth water intensely as he steadied himself before taking a dive back into your depths.

Lightly pushing the cloth away to expose you completely, Shinji places his hands near your waist and leaned down and kissed your glistening lips. His hair swayed from side to side as he got to work. The soft gentle kisses he started with slowly turned into long sucking kisses, as he took each lip into his mouth and pulled on them. Tugging ever so gently before releasing it with a sucking pop and repeating this motion until he made his way up to your clit.

Taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking it, the pressure from the motion left y/n’s thighs trembling, and her toes curling at the ceiling. With her eyes shut tightly, her jaw dropped as she mewled loudly from Shinji’s unrelenting maw. The lewd noises that spewed from y/n’s mouth were unlike anything Shinji had ever heard before. His body reacted physically, singing with lust as every nerve, every pore on his body stood at full attention, just for her.

He fisted at the sheets under his palms as he started absentmindedly grinding into the mattress. Shinji repeatedly pushed his twitching cock into its soft fullness, desperate for any attention he could get while he waited to finish you first. Shinji grunted as his cock slid against the soft, stretchy spandex of his blue boxer briefs.

Removing her hands from the underside of her thighs, she placed them on Shinji’s forearms. Tightly gripping onto them, y/n felt the cool metal of his tongue piercing swirl around her clit, and up and down her sensitized labia. Y/n’s knees failed to stay directly over her chest and slowly drifted to her sides, resting there and spread completely open for Shinji’s hungry mouth.

(...)

Y/n finally caught a needed glimpse at the handsome man that lay in front of her. Visually taking in the way he ate her out like it was the last thing he’ll ever do on earth. So turned on by her noises and arousal, that he’s resorting to fucking the mattress. That’s a first, y/n thought gazing down at the touch deprived man between her thighs. His tensing muscles, soft whimpers, and all the incredulous sucking noises created such a delightful picture for y/n’s eyes and ears to take in and memorize.

The image of this moment, and the feelings that danced and swirled around her body, doubled by the pressure of her orgasm winding up in her core was almost too much. Tears pricked at the corners of y/n’s eyes, as her noises got louder with each swipe of his tongue. Noticing that you had broken the position he placed you in, his arms slid under your thighs and hooked you in his full grasp. Too horny to care, Shinji tugged you harshly down to his mouth. Making you jolt and gasp from the tightness of his arms as they held you harshly in position against his face.

Releasing a thigh, his fingers journeyed down to your twitching hole. His eyes peered up at you as he slowly sunk his middle digit into its wetness. Rubbing the pad of his finger against your G-spot, his tongue ravaging your clit. Expertly flicking and prodding your bud with careful consideration to get you to release. Never breaking eye contact, he sped up his finger's pace. Feeling your walls swell and clench around his finger was a sign you were close, pulling his finger out he glided another finger in with ease before pushing up on your G-spot. The repetitive pressing of her fleshy button, in time with the fast-flicking of his tongue, sent y/n over the edge drowning her deep within her pleasure and forcing out her full release.

“Oh, Shinnnjiii!~” She wailed his name out in ecstasy as her pussy clenched onto his digits and her clit pulsed under his tongue. Finger fucking her deeper and harder during her orgasm caused a different form of release, as y/n’s pussy squirted forcibly through the rolling waves of her powerful orgasm. Splashing Shinji’s chin, neck, and upper chest area, and soaking the bed underneath y/n. “Mmmm, that's what I like to see doll,” “Good job Baby,” He hummed as he pulled his fingers from you, sucking them clean.

Y/n lay there half unconscious coming down from her incredible high. “You've made such a mess darlin’, look at you,” Shinji chuckled at the slumped form of y/n, still breathing heavily. “I'm...” “I'm not sleeping in the wet spot, that's your fault,” she said catching her breath and swallowing hard.

Chuckling sweetly at your exhausted words, “Don’t bother me none babes, just a sign of my victory,”Shinji grins shifting to his knees in front of you. His warm calloused hands push your thighs up to your side as he leaned down to kiss your mound, up your belly, and the space between your breast. His breath felt warm against your skin, as you felt the tip of his nose swipe across your chest. Softly suckling the skin of your breast he repeats his loving and careful kisses until your nipple is encased in his wet mouth. His thumb and index finger come to rest underneath your breast allowing some support while his tongue swirled and prodded against your hard nipple.

(...)

Not giving you any time to prepare for the next act, Shinji sucks and pulls on your nipple with his lips as he presses his still-clothed member against your now-soaked innermost thighs. Grinding against your slick left wet, splotchy marking on his boxers. Pulling off your nipple, he kisses toward the other side and pulls your hardened nipple into his warm mouth sucking gently on it, making sure that none of you is left untouched, or unloved. Still coming down from her first high, y/n lay underneath him breathless, soaking in all of the attention Shinji seemed to have no problem giving to her.

The feeling of his throbbing cock pressing against her still-sensitive clit had y/n reeling. Gasping inwardly at the sudden shock of pleasure that still shot through her body, so artfully done in with just Shinji’s mouth.

“Fuck...” “Shinji, I want you,” y/n mewled pathetically at him, bucking her hips against his swollen, still captive member. Releasing your nipple, Shinji smiles deviously against your skin, “I can't hear you darlin’” he purred. “I..” y/n started before feeling unsettled from the foreign neediness that had been instilled within her. “Use your words, baby,” Shinji’s kissed soft words of encouragement into your chest, only making you flush further. “I want you, inside of me now,” “Please, pretty please,” “I can't wait any longer,” y/n begged helplessly, her mind completely fogged with lust and need.

“You’re in for a treat then babe,” “Because I want you to,” Shinji chuckled before pushing his boxers down past his cock allowing space for it to spring free from its confines. Grabbing the base of his lengthy cock, he prods his tip against your red, swollen lips. Running it up and down your slick, Shinji grunts lowly as he inserts himself. Your gummy warm walls accepted his length freely, swallowing every inch with squelchy ease. “Ohh~” “Fuu-uck,” “Y/n baby, you're always... so fucking... sweet,” Shinji gritted his jaw and forced out as his full length was sheathed inside of you.

All of those hours watching you, waiting for you, wanting you, finally came to an end as Shinji’s body fully relaxed into your body. Pleasure washed over, from his head to his toes as he felt your walls clench onto his shaft. His warm hands rested on the back of your thighs as he raised his body up and over yours. Pinning you against the headboard, Shinji positioned himself so his cock was perfectly angled against your G-spot. Slowly pulling himself from you, his whole body shuttered as he pushed his hips back into your tight cunt. Y/n lay spread open ready for Shinji's taking. Biting her lower lip she cursed under her breath as Shinji made the first few movements.

It didn't matter how many times Shinji had taken you before. It didn't matter how many times you came because of him, or how many times he had touched you. The craving for you only grew stronger with each time he felt you. Getting worse, as each time left him wanting you all over again, bubbling up like an inevitable volcano. Being inside of you was paradise to him, pure bliss, and the only thing to make him forget about all the other stressors in his life. You had become the center of his addiction, and every time he got a taste it was like a first taste all over again.

Finding a steady momentum, Shinji ground his hips against your core, sending his cock into your wet deepness. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows drew together as he felt your pussy twitch and throb with his motions. Soft breathy moans filled the room as he rocked his body against yours.

What usually was rough, harsh, and relentless pounding was gentle and comforting this time around. His hands softly gripped the underside of your thighs as his cock effortlessly slid in and out of you. Y/n’s breasts bounced softly with each of his push-ins. With her face flushed red, the feeling of his impossibly hard cock grazing against all of her right spots was quickly rewinding her arousal all over again. Shinji peered down at y/n, taking in all of her blushing features. The way your eyes rolled when he pushed up into your core, and the faded cute cries that left your now chapped parted lips.

Beautiful. You were so beautiful during this moment, taking all of him with ease and enjoying every second of it. It drove Shinji wild, he moved his body over yours once more prompting y/n to wrap her thighs around his waist. Finding your hands, Shinji interlaced his fingers with yours again.

Burying his face into your neck, he squeezed your hands as he picked up his pace. Y/n cried out, the tears that previously pricked her eyes now finally spilling over her cheeks. “I can't take much more Shinji...” she whimpered at his relentless grinding. Kissing your neck and ignoring your words, Shinji continued his loving agony, pushing himself harder against your soreness. “Just a little..” “Longer, I'm so close,” he breathed against your neck in earnest. “Fuck, I'm so close...” he strained as his body tensed with his approaching orgasm.

The pounding got louder as did their cries for release. “Fuck, Shinjiii..” y/n moaned leaning her head against his face on her neck. “I... I love you..” y/n said quietly. Those three words would've halted him, coming from anyone else. Coming from you though, he never would've expected you to say it first. “What?” he said, never stopping his thrusts. “I said, I lo..” “I love you Shinji,” Y/n said louder, squeezing his hands. “Oh shit... Fuck I'm gonna cum darlin',” “I love you too y/n,” he said hurriedly before claiming your mouth in a sweet kiss. Grunting repeatedly as his cock spewed his load inside of you, y/n could feel his shaft pulse with each ripple of his orgasm. The warm liquid filled her chasm with his juices.

Finalizing his kiss, his body dropped heavily on top of yours. Sweaty and out of breath, the both of you lay in stillness. The sound of his music still playing, the two of you slowly found your composure again.

Pulling out and leaning back on his knees once more, Shinji looked down at you bashful as ever. A cute smile found a place on his lips as he chuckled at the exchange of those words. Y/n looked up at him through her eyelashes, almost chuckling with him, “What's so funny darlin’,” she started again with her horrible impression, making Shinji laugh even further. “Nothin’ babe, I'll get you something to clean yourself up with,” he said cooly before swiftly finding a towel and bringing it back to you.

(...)

Hours had gone by it was late. Sleeping soundly in Shinjis arms y/n nuzzled into his chest comfortably. Shinji lay awake, his mind running wild and repeating those words over and over again as he caressed your back lazily with his fingers. Breaking his train of thought, there was a light tapping at the front door. Reaching for his phone and checking the time, 2:45 am his bright screen read, “Who the hell is knocking at this time of night,” Shinji huffed annoyed, untangling himself from you he pulled some sweatpants on and shambled to the front door, yawning.

Another light tapping followed by fits of laughing and shushing noises, made Shinji squint as he opened the door, he readied himself to tell someone off for disturbing his night with you. At the door stood Lisa, Kensei, Izuru, and Renji all of them drunken and swaying at the doorway. Shuhei was nowhere to be found, “what the hell do you guys want?” Shinji grumbled rolling his eyes. “Shinji?” all three of them said in unison staring wide-eyed, “What are YOU doing here?” Renji spewed, his words slurring together, incomprehensible to an untrained ear. They all stared in awe at Shinji as he leaned against the doorframe. “Wait I KNOW!” Lisa said out loud, unaware of her volume. “Are you and Y/n-chan dating?” she teased, “you guys owe me 20 bucks, I told you!” Lisa said matter-of-factly pushing each of the guy's shoulders.

Sighing and crossing his arms Shinji grinned, laughing at his drunk friends and their assumptions. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he responded, knowing exactly what he had to do next.

End🌸🔥

@ducksdoughnuts IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT ITS DONE NOW 😭😭 Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this!

!!!BLEACH REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!!!

[luckymoonly]

🧵🪡 Read it here. This fic is now COMPLETE!!!!

Pairing: Feng Xin/Mu Qing (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Rating: E

Length: 125k

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Happy Ending, Mpreg, Unplanned pregnancy, yearning, Twin babies Fu Yao and Nan Feng, Jealous Mù Qíng, Frenemies with benefits (they tried), Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Mu Qing, Top Fēng Xìn, Fēng Xìn and Mù Qíng are Idiots in Love, Background Relationships aka Hualian and Beefleaf, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Pei Ming and Feng Xin himbo BFF agenda, a touch of angst here and there, Oh they were roommates, Jealous Mu Qing, Possessive Mù Qíng, Pregnant Mu Qing, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian and Mu Qing shenanigans, The ordeal of being pregnant with twins, Feng Xin and Xie Lian are besties, Trans Shi Qingxuan, wedding proposal

Summary:

After his mother's death, Mu Qing tries to get his life back on track and moves in with Xie Lian and Feng Xin.

Things don't go as planned.

[ejunkiet]

a happy accident

this was 1000% inspired by @terrazaurio​‘s pregnant angel post. consider this a prequel, and maybe the start of a small series? (@itsdaifuku​ you’re also responsible with your dadvid agenda 😂)

redacted audio: david/angel, rated teen, mentions pregnancy.

tags: unplanned pregnancy, angel is nonbinary & afab.

His dark eyes widen, and they think he stops breathing for a moment. “Angel. This is-”

READ ON AO3 HERE

--

a happy accident

Their heart is a heavy thrum inside their chest, their hands squeezed tight around the rim of the bathtub as they stare down the clock on their phone, waiting.

Five more minutes. Can’t check. Won’t check. Wait for the timer.

They shouldn’t be counting down the seconds like this. A watched pot never boils, and all that. They know that. But if they’re not doing something, then they’re thinking about it, about all the possible eventualities that would spin out from this, and they- they can’t, not if it isn’t gonna happen. Not if it isn’t real.

Four minutes.

Tap tap tap. They frown down at the floor, to where the bounce of their knees are making their feet tap against the tile. A nervous tick they’ve never quite been able to beat. But their legs aren’t moving. They’re tucked in close against the side of the tub, where they’ve been for the last ten minutes, their muscles tight and tense. If it wasn’t them, then that meant-

David.

“Angel?” His voice is low, the timbre of his voice roughened by sleep. Their nails click against the ceramic of the tub as their grip flexes, and they release a shuddering breath. “Are you- alright?”

Of course he knew. He can hear their heartbeat, and even if he’d been asleep when they’d first gotten up, picking their way carefully across the room in the pale pre-dawn light, he was a light enough sleeper that he must have noticed their continued absence.

“Y-yeah.” Their voice catches on the word, and it’s obvious to the both of them that they’re not. They swallow, looking back down at the clock again. Two minutes. “I’ll- be fine.”

He pauses for a long moment, and they can picture the look in his dark eyes as he considers their words, concern pinching a furrow between his brows, before he finally asks, “Can I come in?”

They sniff, blinking hard to fight back the heat building behind their eyes. Keep it together.

“The door’s unlocked.”

He hums an acknowledgement, before the handle turns, and the door pushes gently open, and he stands squinting in the brighter light of the overhead fluorescents. His hair is a mess, sticking up at all angles, and he still looks half asleep as he takes in where they’re seated at the edge of the tub.

“Angel?” His brow creases in confusion, before he pads across the room and drops to a crouch beside them. His hand finds their thigh, wide and warm, his grip firm, his voice gentle as he continues, “Are you okay?”

They keep their eyes on the timer as they nod, smiling weakly. His grip tightens on their thigh, his lips twisting into a frown, but before he can say anything else, the alarm goes off, shrill in the sudden silence.

They shut off the alarm and their hand finds his, squeezing tightly. “It’s… it’s in the sink.”

His dark eyes flicker between theirs, watching them for a long moment, that creased furrow between his brows again before he nods, slipping his hand from underneath theirs and pushing to his feet.

It only takes him two steps to reach the sink; another second to glance over the rim and see the plastic strip inside.

His dark eyes widen, and they think he stops breathing for a moment. “Angel. This is-”

“I know.” Their chest feels tight. They can’t - they can’t look at him, their eyes falling to where their hands now twist in their lab, wrapped around the fabric of their nightshirt. The light glints from the braided silver of their engagement ring, and shit, they’ve haven’t talked about this, not seriously, not outside of idle mentions when they’ve talked about the future.

This wasn’t meant to happen - not now, not before the wedding-

“Hey. Look at me.” Warm palms cup their cheeks, their face cradled between his palms as he tilts their head up to look at him. He’s kneeling on the bathmat before them, and they don’t know when he did that. “Breathe.”

They’re gripping his shoulders as if he’s their lifeline, and they don’t know when they did that either.

“We-we were careful. I’m still on the- it’s-” They can barely get the words out, and they can feel the wet heat tracking down their cheeks, pushed away by the sweep of his thumbs. “And we- we haven’t talked about this-”

“I know. It’s okay. Come here.” He leans in until he can tuck them against his shoulder, their arms winding tightly around his neck, pulling him until their bodies are flush together. His hand settles against their back, applying steady pressure through their shirt. “We’re gonna be okay, angel.”

They squeeze the back of his shirt, desperately wishing that as they take a breath, pulling themself back together. “D-did you look?”

His grip tightens briefly against them, and they can feel the way his breath shivers in his chest. “I did. But I need you to know that whatever it says, you still have a choice. You’ll always have a choice.”

They take another deep, shuddering breath, even as they feel a fresh wave of tears slip down their cheeks. His grip on them tightens, his voice soft as he hushes them, and they’re filled with so much love for him that they think their heart will burst with it.

“I’m- I’m ready, if you are.” They twist in his grip, pushing back until they can see him again, their fingers tangled in the dark hair at the nape of his neck as they catch his gaze. “I love you, so much. With you, I- I think we could. If you wanted.”

His dark eyes are wet, and there’s more emotion in his expression than they think they’ve ever seen with him, a fragile edge to his smile as he reaches up to cup their cheek again.

“I love you, too. I will always love you. A-and, if you wanted, I - would be ready. Too.”

Fuck. Their heart feels as if it’s about to beat out of their chest as his thumb traces the curve of their cheek, a swell of feeling rising up in them, and they love him, they love him so much.

“The test…?”

His eyes crease and he nods, swallowing hard as the tears come, and then he’s smiling as he’s kissing them, holding them close.

[redbeanbunsworld-if]

Introduction - Tears of Tianchao

Interactive fiction - Tears of Tianchao

DEMO / Patreon / Discord

Latest update: June 30, 2024

After a decade from your home nation of Tianchao, you become Xiaowei Mao in the army involved in the intranational civil war called "DaiZai-Yige." You are sent by the Emperor of Zhongguog to another emperor to restore an ancient power from the late god Heibao. Your mission: kill the Holder of the Mark of Heibao. When caught in an unplanned, "attempted" assassination of the prince, you are thrown into a fight for life and death, traversing through the treacheries of civil war, betrayal, and honor. What was a simple assassination had only turned more sinister. Met in the face of human trafficking, political agendas, and with no one to trust, you uncover the untold lies of those involved in the fight. Will you be able to survive the wrath of the Holder of the Mark of Heibao till you earn his trust, or will you fall into the pits of death?

Tears of Tianchao is an ongoing interactive fiction with over 161,000+ words (excluding code) with tons of flavor text, 5 distinct personalities, and 6 ROs to choose from. Following the war as a Xiaowei, a high-positioned commander of an army and influential court official, every decision you make holds weight, and nothing is as it seems.

This is an 18+ interactive fiction containing graphic violence, gray morality, abuse, drugs, sexual content, and many more triggering content. Please proceed with caution and read the trigger/content warnings in the start menu of the game. Thank you.

Features

Choose to be a female or male Xiaowei.

Have any sexuality: gay, lesbian, straight, ace, or bi

Choose to romance the elites of the the war or share an unforgettable friendship.

Navigate between two sides of a civil war and use wits to satisfy both sides in favor of the one you choose: Empire and Rebel

Subdue the prince's suspicion or face the consequences.

Master martial arts, keen perception, and charisma to influence major decisions.

Gather information and learn about the nation of eternal spring, Tianchao, and deal with the corruption that plagues the dying land.

Character list

List of short stories and drabbles

Available Patreon Content

1. Ji Qiangxin HD Wallpaper + Art

2. Mo Ge HD Art

3. Luo Ying HD Art

4. Ji Shenglian HD Art

5. Ji Qiangxin thirst trap (SFW&NSFW) HD Art

6. Interactive Short Story: As the Green Willow Wilts

7. Interactive Short Story: Little Mandarin Minds

Lore Compilation

The Clearance

Song of Liberty

Crimson Festival

The Mark of Heibao

Massacre of Desert

(Click the link above)

Romances

RO Main Portraits (full portrait list under each RO)

Ji Qiangxin (he/him)

[only romanceable with an mmc + special route available if fmc (not romance)]

character profile

character official portrait/art

Known as: Heibao prince; exiled low-born; The Jian of XueHua

"This was not spoken by this prince as of yet, but before you leave, know this: betray me once, and not even Ji Yang-Guang can save your throat."

As the current holder of the Mark of Heibao, Ji Qiangxin was the next crown prince of Tianchao before his uncle took the throne. Fueled by his thirst for vengeance and the prosperity of his nation, the cold and intimidating prince believes that the imperial family of Tianchao must fall, and nothing will get in his way. He will use all means, even killing, if that is what it takes to restore peace, and that includes you—a Xiaowei sent as an assassin of Zhongguog. No one can temper the burning iron heart, and he never believes any can.

Ji Shenglian (she/her)

Character profile

character official portrait/art

[only romanceable with an fmc]

Known as: Lotus Princess; Grand Keeper of the South

"As the only princess of Tianchao, I have a duty, but sometimes, I do wonder if my birth was a mistake, just as Zhongguog and the current imperial family believe."

Benevolent and strikingly beautiful, Ji Shenglian is the only living princess with the blood of the imperial family in both Zhongguog and Tianchao. As the head magician of the rebel forces, she plays an integral role in war in secrecy, and foes tremble under her powerful manipulation of soul energy. Under the guise of the lychee eyes and delicate smile, she holds a fervent spirit and utmost loyalty to her brother, but even behind the shadows of him, a most humane and sincere desire burns brights.

Wu Shen (he/him)

character profile

character official art/portrait

Known as: Green snake; Peddler

"Yeah, I don't give a shit as long as I'm payed. If that prince can pay, that's all. Hmm? Don't I feel guilty for ditching others? Hahaha! You sure are funny."

Snarky and charming with skills of disguise, Wu Shen uses his looks and slippery tricks to get what he wants. Being the main spy of the rebel forces, he knows all the right places and people, and every dirty secret never escapes his ears. With a great lust for money and luxuries, he will willingly betray others if the price is right, but when he truly opens his heart, not even the world is enough for him to sacrifice those that he loves.

Fu Xiuying (she/her)

character profile

Character official portrait/art

Known as: Pinnacle lady; woman with the golden tongue

"Do I really look that sly? Hehe, you haven't see the worst. Or...do you want to see it? I may be intelligent and elegant, but don't let it fool you, little fox."

Bold like a cat with a spiked tongue, Fu Xiuying is a woman of little words but many schemes. Born into a famed clan of scholars and poets, her skills in politics are unrivalled more so after serving as the handmaiden of the current empress. She keeps her friends close, and her enemies at her fingertips. As the main intelligence gatherer of the rebellion, she is fiercely loyal to her nation and wishes to see a better world. Outside, she appears to be as lovely as a flower, but under her elegant nature, a beast lies dormant.

Mo Ge (he/him)

character profile

character art/official portrait

character

Known as: Scholar of a thousand years; Favored of Highest

"It's been too long, old friend. You've grown, just as I did, and we're no longer kids. I hope to form a diplomatic relationship, no matter what our past was."

Upright and soft-hearted, Mo Ge is the tutor of the imperial prince of the current family. Well-spoken and skilled in all areas of philosophy, science, and arts, he is one of the most skilled man in the history of Tianchao, and the youngest to be an imperial tutor and imperial secretary. People around him comment about the dried mandarin peels he carries in a small box. He is diplomatic and kind, and he is willing to sacrifice himself for the one he loves most.

Luo Ying (she/her)

[only romanceacble with an mmc]

character profile

Character official portrait/art

Known as: Scorpion Courtesan; Lady Misfortune

"So you are the Xiaowei. I don't know what I expected, but aren't you a bit too stupid to be one? I heard that that Xiaowei Mao was smart, but if so, how come you don't know me?"

Uncouth, violent, and rude. Hostile towards anyone, and unforgiving to enemies, she relishes to see them in pain. Despite all this, she is a vulnerable spirit. Easily flustered, a classic tsundere, and a bit heartless with words, she easily falls for candid people and lets her guard down when faced with such pure, unfiltered person.

(Demo: 19th October 2022)

[dumbslxtclub]

you’re on your own, kid | e.m - part seven

eddie munson x pregnant!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: tonight’s agenda: go see a movie, drink a milkshake, give birth. easy, right?

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 19, anxiety, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, labor, brief mention of blood/gore, needles, slow burn

word count: 8.9K+

a/n: whew, we did it!! this is the chapter I’ve been most excited to write, which has also proven to be the biggest challenge. I hope you enjoy, this is just the beginning of squid’s adventure earth side <3

taglist: @harrypotteranna23-blog​ @lezzy-bennet​ @ches-86​ @reidstea @sashaphantomhive

↳  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight  / nine / ten / eleven

Part Seven: Thundercats Are Go!

The weeks rolled on, Christmas passed in the blink of an eye. Fireworks were heard over Hawkins, the promise of a new year, a better year, was palpable for the townsfolk, but for you it was all the same. Your body, your mind, was growing heavy. 

At 34 weeks, you knew you couldn’t keep pushing yourself with exhaustive hours spent at the video store. Confiding in Robin and Eddie after a particularly long shift, you brainstormed ideas on how to broach the subject of maternity leave with Keith, who you all knew could be as stubborn as a mule. And then, upon opening the store on a frosty Wednesday, a rather shaken Keith informed you that you’d be allowed 12 weeks of paid maternity leave before you’d even had the chance to gather the courage to talk to him. The stress of keeping a roof over your head had dissipated overnight, leaving you free to concentrate on resting. You could only deduce it was the work of one of your guardian angels, most likely the angel in a black leather jacket.

Without work, however, time seemed to slow down, leaving you to your own devices. Days continued to blend together, the only indicator of time was watching your clothes seemingly shrink, finding a new home in the bottom drawer until they could be worn again. You became intimately acquainted with the freshly-formed stretch marks decorating your belly, creating art as layers of tissue beneath your skin fractured to make way for a growing baby. Squid seemed delighted to use every organ she can reach as her personal trampoline, now favoring the firmness of your ribs as opposed to your squishy bladder. Even in the womb, she’s sharp and perceptive to the world around her, particularly when her favorite person was involved. 

Like clockwork, you’d be woken up practically every day from your afternoon nap to a sharp kick, which you came to learn signaled Eddie’s return from work. The sound of Metallica blasting through his van, tyres rolling along gravel were enough to send Squid into a frenzy. It went the same every day, you’d peek out your bedroom window half-cognizant to see Eddie getting out of his van. Swinging the door closed, he’d glance over to your window to give you a wave, fingers laced with oil and grime from the day’s work. On special days, you’d be woken up by the sound of Robin lecturing Eddie on his driving as she got out of his van to visit only to flash some new video rentals your way, making her way to your abode to keep you company for the evening.

You’d filled up the previous weeks entertaining yourself, heading to Robin’s for a home cooked dinner, or popping by Mike’s house for campaign nights (you had no idea what was happening, but it was nice to be included). But you found yourself craving home more and more, the need to nest for Squid’s arrival taking priority over social commitments. To prevent you from becoming a total recluse, almost every night was turning into movie night with Robin and/or Eddie. Cramming into your small living room, which was now fully converted into a baby’s room, you’d gather on the couch with whatever your current sweet craving was to watch the latest release.

Over the past month, the two would attempt to assemble each of the flat packs, which was far more entertaining than watching whatever cheesy comedy was on. Eddie would often refer to the instructions as a ‘suggestion pamphlet’, tossing them to the side almost immediately to begin sorting through nuts and bolts. Robin, on the other hand, was set on following them to a tee, which led to some great back-and-forth bickering as you sat back and enjoyed the show. But one by one, the furniture began to take shape, eliciting a dual sense of calmness and nerves from you. The house was taking shape, furniture and baby clothes and toys filling up every nook and cranny. 

This was happening, and it was happening soon. The crib would soon be full, the quiet nights filled with cries and babbles, and your household would grow by one member.

You knew the drill. Snuggled up under a mountain of blankets, you’re positioned on your side with your feet tucked up for maximum nap comfort. Condensation is building on the windows, the sleet of snow outside built up along the deck outside, the coziness of your warm bed creating the perfect sleeping environment. But, as it has been for the last week, you’ve found yourself more and more restless, the heaviness in your belly making it nearly impossible to be truly comfortable. Add to that the unrelenting dull pain residing in your lower back for the past few days, you were rolling the dice every time you decided it was time for a snooze. 

As you finally find yourself drifting off, you’re interrupted by a sharp (almost precise) blow to your lower rib cage, indicating that Squid knows something you don’t. And sure enough, moments later you tune into the sound of heavy metal blasting through the trailer park. Resigning yourself to the fact that today’s attempted nap was, once again, a failure, you peel yourself up and rest your chin on the windowsill above your bed. As his van pulls into view, the kicking continues, unfortunately Eddie might have been right about having a little metalhead on your hands.

Jumping out of the van, his work boots hit the gravel as he finishes off his cigarette, tossing it to the ground before stamping the remaining embers out. Muscle memory kicks in, and he turns to glance at your frosty window. Through the thin layer of ice and condensation, you can see him a lot better than you imagine he can, so you reach a finger up to touch the cold glass. Tracing out two letters, a smile takes over his face as he sees HI written on your windowpane, giving you a small salute back. He raises his fingers, five on one hand as well as his thumb on the grimier hand, which you’ve learned to mean the time he’ll be coming around. Friday nights are always movie nights, and with no sign of Robin in his van, you deduce that she’s probably going to meet you later on. Giving you a little less than an hour to organize yourself, you resign to a warm shower with the hopes it may give your ever-aching muscle some relief.

Huffing as you find your latest pair of maternity pants are now a struggle to pull on, you resign to a cozy great sweatpant set, the waistband loose enough for you to feel somewhat comfortable. Movie nights are no glamorous occasion, so you know that the pair won’t criticize your fashion choices in your own home. A rhythmic knock is heard on the door, right on time. Swinging the door open, a now much more casually dressed Eddie stands before you, having exchanged his uniform for something more his style. His black leather jacket hangs from his lean frame, a white cotton long sleeve underneath his acid-wash tee to stave off the cold. 

“Happy Friday, sweetheart!” He grins, pulling you into a warm embrace, as close as you can get with the bump between you. 

Over the past few months, you’ve come to learn that Eddie is a rather tactile person once he gets comfortable with someone. If it’s a movie night, he’ll happily offer his shoulder as a pillow. If he’s driving you around town to satisfy a late-night craving, his hand will often find its way to your thigh, resting it there for the duration of the drive. Now, as soon as he’s withdrawn from the hug, his palm instinctually smooths out the cotton fabric of your sweatshirt, running along the swell of your bump. You really hadn’t expected Eddie, of all people, to bond with Squid the way he has. Robin, of course, will drone on and on talking directly to your belly, trying to elicit any physical reaction she can. But, for some reason, it comes much easier for Eddie to get a response out of Squid. It’s as if she’s learnt his touch, calloused hands tracing over the fabric of your shirt just firm enough to let her know he’s here. But that’s rarely necessary. Often, his signature scent of musky cologne intermingled with cigarette smoke and motor oil will reach her before his fingers do, sending her into an excited kicking frenzy. Hell, even passing a stranger smoking outside the supermarket has gotten her riled up. Today is no different. Grabbing his hands, you redirect them to the top of your bump, where small feet are kicking eagerly under the delicate skin. A smile creeps across Eddie’s face, eyes still locked on the swell of your shirt while he welcomes the sensation.

“Think she’s trying to crack a rib.” You bemoan, keeling over slightly. Eddie removes his hands somewhat reluctantly, despite the incessant kicking, to pull off his jacket and throw it onto the couch. It’s hard to ignore the unusually tidy state of your trailer, clearly that nesting instinct is working overtime as of late. Sauntering over to the kitchen bench to rest against, he runs a hand along his jawline. “How was work?”

“Yeah, good. Long as fuck, trying to get all the Pinto’s back on the road before the weekend.” Shooting him a scowl at his dig, it does little to wipe the grin off his face. “You get any rest today?”

“Nope.” Your hand finds its way to your sore lower back as you waddle your way to the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard to grab a glass. Filling it with fresh water from the faucet, you offer it to Eddie. “It’s been like this all week, can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what. I feel like a planet.”

“But a cute planet. Like Pluto.”

“If you say so, I’m definitely getting more of a Jupiter vibe.”

Eddie studies your face as it morphs into discomfort, taking a gulp of water from his cup. 

“She’s heavy, hey?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s ‘cause of her massive cranium. You can thank Steve for that one.” 

“God, leave her alone, would you? She can’t help her head size.”

Eddie smiles at your banter, placing the glass down on the countertop. His thumb and middle finger meet the corners of his mouth, wiping away any leftover liquid. Eyes darting from your exhausted expression, down to your belly and back again, his brows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Can I… try something?” 

Glancing his way with curiosity and confusion, you rest your elbows on the laminate countertop, crumbs from your morning toast now sticking to your forearms.

“Sure?”

Eddie smirks, pushing off the bench and joins you in front of the sink.

“Trust me on this, alright?”

“You know, the last time someone said that to me I practically had a breakdown in the snow.” 

He shakes his head, trying to suppress the lingering guilt in the pit of his stomach that resulted from that night. Closing the space between you, you feel the heat from his chest against your back. It’s strangely intimate on a whole new level. It catches you off guard, sending chills down the back of your neck. Ringed hands snake around your belly, landing just below the curve of your belly, settling into the crook between your hip bones.

“Eddie, what are you-”

“Breathe in for me.” Puffs of air tickle your ear as he speaks, voice low yet reassuring, an unspoken agreement being signed between the pair of you that no boundaries will be crossed. 

You do as he asks, breathing in deeply, diaphragm rising as your chest fills with air. Eddie’s fingers interlock, pressing firmly into your skin to hook under your bump. “And out.” 

Lungs emptying completely on the exhale, Eddie’s hands lift your belly, taking the full weight of Squid. Your eyes flutter closed, the pressure releasing from your lower back causes you to practically melt. Having grown so accustomed to the extra pounds in your midsection, the relief of having it literally lifted off you is heavenly. It’s blissful. Every muscle in your body relaxes, spine turning to jelly as your head lolls to the side, forehead connecting with the side of Eddie’s neck. A small sigh echoes in your throat, and you feel Eddie’s abdomen tighten with a chuckle.

“That better?” He asks, quirking his head to catch sight of your blissful expression.

“Mhm.”

The pair of you remain in that position for a few beats, a comfortable silence sitting between you. It’s clear that Eddie is happy to remain like this for as long as you desire, granting you this momentary relief from the mounting physical pressure. You indulge in a few more deep breaths, mind clearing as you exhale every stress that had been on your mind in the preceding weeks.

Work. Final appointments. Prepping the hospital bag. Resting enough. Not resting too much. Socializing. Nesting. Eating right. Your changing body. Embracing the scary unknown. 

The safety of this moment is not lost on you, relinquishing your worries in the arms of your friend. So lost in this gentle embrace, you’re reoriented by Eddie’s soft voice, plush lips just inches from your ear.

“Gonna let you down now, okay?” He waits for your permission to ensure you’re ready, to which you nod your head in the crook of his neck. Slowly, he releases your bump, the weight now very apparent having just experienced the lack of it. A groan escapes your lungs, not out of discomfort, but out of pure gratitude.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still feeling Eddie’s embrace locked around you. His thumbs are now lightly stroking the swell, the stubble on his chin brushing your scalp as he sits his head atop yours contently.

The moment lingers on for what feels like an eternity to Eddie, and he can’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. The corners of his lips curl up into the smallest of smiles, unbeknownst to you. He made you feel good. He did good. But, as it turns out, Eddie’s biggest enemy is himself. Happiness warps into worry, is he making you feel uncomfortable right now? He should give you some space, deny himself of the warmth of your body pressed to his. God, he doesn’t want to make this awkward…

And then your eyes flutter open, craning your neck to get a look at his face. You catch the remnants of his grin before he wipes it off his face, replacing it with a more subtle expression. Big, bambi eyes staring down at you, searching for a trace of worry which doesn’t exist on your blissed-out face. 

Clearing his throat, he takes a step back from you sheepishly, bumping into the sink. 

“Where did you learn that, Eddie?”

“Oh, uh- this guy at work. Told me about how he’d do that for his wife when she was pregnant, kept her from getting too cranky.” His hand reaches out to scruff your hair, which normally you’d swat away, but you allow him to mess it up in this instance. But not one to let him get away with murder, your scrunch up your nose at him.

“I’m never cranky.” You retort, grabbing his now empty glass to add to the pile of dishes accumulating in the basin.

“So, you won’t bite my head off when I tell you Robin can’t come tonight?” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, swung by on my way home. She’s gotta close the store, so it’s just gonna be us tonight.”

“Cool. What did you grab from her?” Heading for Eddie’s jacket on the couch, you search for the VHS tape in the pockets. “She mentioned that The Fly was coming in this week-”

“Actually-” Eddie takes his jacket from your grasp, swinging it around his broad back. He pulls out his car keys and jingles them in your direction. “-I had something different planned. Wanna go for a drive?”

Dark purple hues are cast through the sky as night falls on Hawkins, shadowy creatures with wings crossing the horizon. Many houses are still decorated with Christmas lights, which light up rhythmically, casting streaks of green and red across the thinning sheet of snow across lawns. The interior of the van is sporadically illuminated by orange and white fluorescent bulbs from the streetlamps, the journey uninterrupted by peak hours drivers who are now happily home with their families. 

Eddie’s pointer fingers drums away on the side of your thigh, his metal cassette now playing on a much lower volume so as not to disturb an apparently sleeping Squid. Taking a turn down an unfamiliar road, Eddie points to a bulb-lined sign in the distance.

“Here we are.”

Chipped paint curls off the Hawkins All-Weather Drive-In billboard, more than one light flickering pathetically around the border. Your jaw drops open as you take in the words spelled out in the changeable letters.

“Evil Dead 2?!” You practically squeal at Eddie, excitedly tapping his hand with your own. Having noticed by now your affinity for horror movies, Eddie shoots a toothy grin in your direction. He’s on a roll tonight.

The dirt parking lot is crowded, teen couples setting up camping chairs in front of their second-hand cars. Playful screams and laughter fills the chilly air as you waddle through the dark back to Eddie’s van. He’d instructed you to load up for the film, taking a trip to the bustling snack bar with his wallet in hand while he found a place to park. The darkness of the night helped you feel anonymous, not receiving any strange looks from judgemental passers-by, leaving you feeling rather peaceful. 

The cardboard box rests just above your belly, using it as a very unsteady table as you carry your loot back, the smell of freshly cooked hotdogs and buttery popcorn filling your senses. Squinting around, you search for the dark shape of the van in the direction Eddie said he would be, but struggle to catch a glimpse of it. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, two hands firmly grasp your shoulders, almost sending your milkshake flying.

“Boo!” A familiar voice chuckles behind you, rendering you severely unimpressed.

“Jesus, Eddie! You could send me into early labor scaring me like that!” Making amends, he takes the hefty box of goodies out of your arms, examining the contents.

“Yeah, well I’ve heard eating copious amounts of sugar and grease can do the same thing.” He pulls out one of the three bags of M&Ms, screwing his nose up at the sight. “God, you’re giving Henderson a run for his money, the two of you seem hellbent in taking me for all I’ve got.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s enough Pinto’s in town to keep you in business.” You elbow his ribs as he redirects you towards his van, which appears to be parked in the wrong direction. Taking a large gulp of your milkshake, you’re quick to point out his error. “Earth to Munson, the screen is that way.”

If Eddie hears you, he doesn’t acknowledge it. He just continues ahead, your sluggish steps no match for his longer legs. Grabbing the handles to the back of the van, he swings the doors open before you can catch up to him. Swinging one arm behind his back and the other in front of him in an ‘after you’ motion, you maneuver around the door to see what he’s gesturing to. 

The previously bare-bones interior has been decorated with pillows and blankets, piled up at the entrance, well-preserved thanks to Eddie’s careful driving. Metal flooring now covered by some sort of mattress, a pilling fitted sheet pulled on top to conceal any possible stains. Eddie, now standing beside you, can’t seem to wipe the smug expression off his face.

“Whaddya think?”

“Wow, paint a few flames on the side of the van and you’ve got yourself a textbook shaggin’ wagon.” The heat from Eddie’s cheeks is practically radiating off him, and you’re quietly proud to have landed such a good blow. But you can’t leave him stewing in his own self doubt for too long, you’re not that cruel. “I love it, Eddie.”

As the cartoon popcorn and soda begin dancing on the screen behind you, you and Eddie make yourselves comfortable on the mattress. Stacking the mountain of pillows up behind the two of you, Eddie checks to make sure you’re settled before placing your hotdog on your bump, obscuring your vision of the screen. And then the M&Ms. And then the Sour Patch Kids. And then-

“Eddie! Dude, I’m hoping to actually see the movie.”

He grabs your milkshake out of your hand and hovers it above your belly.

“You reckon this’d be pushing it?”

Snatching the drink back to its rightful owner, you shake your head.

“Definitely. Squid’s aim is getting good, and I don’t want a milkshake bath right now.” Eddie settles beside you, shuffling the blanket around and pulling it up to your hips while you dismount his snack creation. You glance around the interior of the van, there appears to be some sort of old tapestry thumb-tacked to the ceiling, dipping and curving like some luxurious tent, loosely strung fairy lights casting their own sky of stars against the worn metal. “This is nice, girls must love this, huh?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, offering you a Sour Patch Kid as the trailers begin lighting up the screen.

“Y’know, the whole mattress in the back, going to the drive-in thing.” 

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve ever done this before.” Eddie shifts around in his seat, grabbing a candy for himself.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, swear! I mean, I wasn’t totally hopeless, but y’know, girls in high school weren’t exactly lining up to date the freak.”

“Thought you were going to sacrifice them to the devil?” 

“Exactly.”

You nod, the sticky-sweet candy coating your teeth and the sourness hitting just the right spot. “Well, I know you’re not going to sacrifice me.”

“How do you figure?”

“You didn’t put a tarp down. I mean, that’s just sloppy planning.”

“Fuck! Knew I forgot something.” He flicks an M&M at you, which bounces off your chest and rolls into a crevice, likely to never be seen again. You can’t help but smile. You’re grateful it’s so easy with Eddie, you don’t feel like you need to force the conversation. I mean, Robin and you could talk for hours, and that same comfort exists in your friendship with Eddie. A young couple, likely only a few years younger than you, holding each other as they cross in front of the van. Eddie clears his throat, propping himself up on his forearm next to you. “Did, uh- Steve ever take you on outings like this?”

It’s strange, grief. The way you never know how you’ll react when you hear that person's name spoken out loud. Months ago, hearing his name would have sent you spiraling, unable to cope with the emotions you were suppressing. But now, although that reaction isn’t as strong, a new discomfort has taken its place. Guilt. You wonder if you’re moving on too fast, if you should feel sadder, while simultaneously patting yourself on the back for not feeling tears prickle at the mere syllables of his name. Tonight’s reaction is the latter.

“No, not really.” Distracting yourself by digging through the packet looking for red or orange candies, you feel Eddie’s eyes boring into your profile. “I mean, we did the whole movie-date thing, but it was so casual. Like, it didn’t matter where we went, or even who else was there, as long as we got to spend time with each other. I don’t know, maybe if there was more time we would have done things like this…”

The studio title screens begin casting blue streaks of light into the now-dark van, grateful for the interruption. Eddie doesn’t push, out of the corner of your eye you see him give a small nod of acknowledgement before turning his full attention to the film.

He notices your eyelids growing heavy as the headless and reanimated corpse begins dancing on screen, and can’t help but marvel at how such a scary film could lull you to sleep. Eddie contemplates waking you up, knowing he’d have to remember every detail of the film you’ve been dying to see for weeks to recount to you later. But he can’t bring himself to, not with how peaceful you look. 

During his insomniac moments over the previous weeks, he’d sit on the deck outside his trailer, cigarette in hand as Hawkins exists in eerie silence through the dead of winter. And, on occasion, he’d see your restless figure wandering through the living room window, turning on the small TV to whatever early morning commercials were playing to use as white noise. Sleep was a luxury you were no longer being granted. And hell, he’d pay for a million movie tickets if it meant you’d get a good night’s rest. 

As a particularly loud jumpscare played out on the large screen, Eddie flinched at the sudden noise, silently grateful you didn’t witness him falling prey to the B-movies horror tropes. This jolt, however, was enough to cause you to stir, peeking out from heavily-lidded eyes up at the metalhead beside you.

“Eddie…” You mumble, running a hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the offensive light resonating off the screen.

“Hey. Go back to sleep, alright?” Eddie whispers, his hand finding your scalp and gently running his fingers through your hair, thumb caressing your temple. You didn’t need any convincing, within a few seconds you were edging closer to him, the call of sleep too loud to resist. Eddie continues lightly swirling the tips of his fingers along your unbrushed hair until he’s sure you’re asleep, your head finding a new home just below his collarbone. Maybe he didn’t need to bring so many pillows after all.

Another hour passes before Eddie nudges you gently awake, the parking lot now completely devoid of vehicles as the screen goes black. 

“Oh my god, did I sleep through the whole thing? I’m so-“ An apology is sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie is quick to silence you before he hears one of the forbidden words.

“-Tired, I get it. Don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be plenty more gore fests to go to.” His words are kind, as if he couldn’t care less about the cost of admission.

Stretching your arms heavenwards, you feel a familiar pang of hunger low in your belly. Despite devouring basically every food group in the past hour, you can’t ignore the dull ache deep in your abdomen.

“Reckon the snack bar is still open?” You ask, hoisting yourself up on your palms. Eddie shoots you an incredulous look.

“Seriously? You’re still hungry?”

“Not me, her.” Directing your eye-line to your bump, Eddie’s taps your belly the way a child would pat a small animal.

“Of course, busy growing limbs and what not. Go for it, I’m just gonna have a smoke.” 

His hand curls around the doorframe, using it as leverage to swing himself out onto the gravel below. Brushing his jacket off before extending a hand out to you to help you out to save you from rolling around like a turtle stuck on its back. Inching forward, you swing your legs over the lip of the boot, one hand holding Eddie’s as his other finds the small of your back to help you out. With the fresh sensation in that area, you’re now very aware of the sharp pain radiating from that area, shooting down your thighs and causing you to feel slightly unsteady on your feet. You give Eddie a reassuring smile that you won’t require his supervision to the snack bar.

Unfortunately for you, the deep fryer and hot dog machine had both been turned off already, meaning the promise of warm snacks was no more. Settling for a chocolate milkshake and a bag of Reece’s pieces, you exit the bar just as the freckled workers dim the lights, signaling the end of another day. Spotting Eddie’s shadowy figure next to the only remaining vehicle in the dirt lot, a billow of smoke filling the air around him, you manage one step in his direction before it hits you. 

A sharp cramp hits you like a gut-punch, a wave of pain starting at the top of your uterus and resonating downwards. 

The closest thing you can equate the pain to is a strong period pain, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in nearly three-quarters of a year. The sensation demands all of your attention, causing you to grasp onto the red metal support frame of the undercover area. Your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to exhale it as a hiss, instinctively clutching the waistband of your sweatpants. You can’t help but vocalize your pain with a small grunt, teeth clenching together while you crush the chocolates still in your hand. With your eyes squeezed shut and a dull ringing in your ears, you barely register the shuffling of feet in front of you. Eddie was quick to notice your delay, throwing his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and making a beeline towards you the second he saw you hunch over. 

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Panic is evident in his voice, his palm hovering over your shoulder, tentative to touch you. Shaking your head, you take another sharp inhale through your nose, opening your eyes to take in his worried expression.

“‘M fine.” You lie, the pain beginning to subside and allowing you to return to an upright stance. Eddie is unconvinced.

“Do you want me to pull the van up here?” You shake your head.

“No, no, just give me a second.”

He waits patiently beside you, eyes darting around your face searching for any indication of discomfort. But the ache slowly disappears, and in your own time, you come back to your surroundings and give Eddie non-verbal confirmation that you’re okay, and the two of you slowly return to the van.

Against Eddie’s wishes, you insist that he goes home after dropping you off, the comfort of knowing he’s literally across from you more than enough without making him keep you company all night. The pangs continued sporadically throughout your drive home, and you did your best to keep them hidden from Eddie’s view. I mean, it’s not time. Surely not. You’re only 38 weeks, you probably just ate too much? Maybe it was a bad hot dog? Or maybe they’re Braxton-Hicks contractions, you tell yourself, false indications of labor. That’s what it must be, it can’t be time…

Despite your best efforts, your attempt to get to sleep proves once again futile. An hour of tossing and turning turns to two, then three, then four, all the while these cramps continue to intensify and become more frequent. You didn’t even bother to change out of your sweatpants when you got home, the cotton material now clinging to you skin, causing your nerve endings to become overstimulated. Heaving yourself out of bed, you flick on your bedside lamp, feet planted on the floor as you hoist yourself up. 

Before you can bring your hands to the waistband of your pants, you feel a trickling sensation in your underwear. Holy shit, did you just pee your pants? The wetness soaks the fabric of your bottoms, rendering them soiled. Your heart begins to race as you absorb what’s just happened, when a firm knock is heard at your front door. You glance out your window to see Eddie’s patio light illuminated by recent movement, so it doesn’t take a genius to deduce he’s your visitor. 

“One sec!” You call out as you fumble out of your pants and underwear, pulling on the nearest pair of pajama bottoms at your disposal. Once decent, you shuffle out of the bedroom to the front door, swinging it open to reveal a ready-for-bed Eddie.

“Hey, sorry, I-” He trips over his words, knowing in usual circumstances a late-night visit would be incredibly rude. “-I saw your light go on, just wanted to check you’re alright. I couldn’t sleep…”

Trailing off, he notices your bottom lip quivering slightly as panic takes over your sleep-deprived face, your eyes glancing down at your fresh change of clothes.

“You okay?”

“I think it’s happening.”

Before you can comprehend what’s happening, you’re being loaded up into Eddie’s van, hospital bag at your feet as Eddie closes up your trailer. The contractions are growing closer and more intense, hitting every five minutes or so. You run a comforting hand over your belly, relishing in the sensation as this may be one of the last opportunities to do so. The driver’s side door closes behind Eddie, out of breath as he turns the engine on.

“Called Robin, she’s going to meet us at the hospital. You got everything?”

“Yep, I think so.”

“Alright, you’re buckled up?”

You nod as Eddie turns on the headlights, pulling out of the trailer park and away from your home, which will have a new member the next time you return.

Arriving to your suite by wheelchair, pushed by Eddie, the nurse directs you to get comfortable. The hospital delivery room is bland and clinical, sterile to the umpth degree. Yellowing wallpaper lines the room, two well-used armchairs sit below the window where fraying lace curtains flutter in the February breeze. In the corner, a baby blue bean bag awaits along with a gray yoga ball, ready for you should you need it. An IV pole and fetal monitor sit bedside, a tangle of cords attached to your belly to monitor Squid’s heart rate and contraction pattern, fluids dripping into your veins by way of a catheter inserted into your left hand. You’ve exchanged your mismatched clothes for a gown the same color as the bean bag, light and comfortable to wear. From an outside perspective, everything is perfectly prepared. 

Everything is ready. 

Everything except-

The door bursts open, a frazzled and half-awake Robin rushing into the room holding what appears to be her own personal baby bag (but is likely stuffed with snacks).

“Did I miss it?!” She exclaims, darting to Eddie, who is pacing back and forth by the window.

“Nope, she’s still in there.” He replies, grabbing one of the chairs to bring to the bedside so that Robin can sit beside you. Seeing her face is so immensely comforting in this moment, she grabs your cheeks between her clammy hands and presses her lips to your equally sweaty forehead.

“How are you doing, mama bear?” She asks, brushing baby hairs clinging to your skin out of your face.

“Yeah, alright, I think. The doctor’s say I’m 6cm dilated, so it’s just a waiting game now.”

“Gross! So your cervix is like the size of a chocolate chip cookie now?” Robin demonstrated with her hands, pressing her thumbs and forefingers together in a circle, which she then peeks through.

“Oh my god, Robin! Can you not?” Eddie, who was mere inches from sitting on the side of your bed, quickly flies back up to his feet, as if putting physical space between him and Robin will help him rid that graphic description from his brain. Robin simply smirks his way.

“Uh, earth to Munson, it’s about to get a whole lot worse than that.” Robin goes to grasp your hand for support, but flinches at the sight of the catheter entering your veins. Eddie, witnessing Robin’s Achilles heel (her aversion to all things bloody), takes full advantage of this.

“Oh yeah, Squid’s gonna come out all gory, like a chest burster, just ripping her way out-“

Robin's hands fly to her ears to protect herself from the assault of Eddie’s words, already feeling lightheaded from the mere thought. 

“La-la-la!! Please don’t make me pass out, you know I can’t handle blood.”

“Well if you’re gonna do it, you’re in a good place to-“ The sentence is only partially formed in your mouth before an intense, searing pain begins resonating through your abdomen, causing you to buckle over in your reclined position. Robin, who has always been quick to throw her own reservations aside to help a friend, grabs your hand, which you squeeze like a stress ball. Eddie darts to the other side of you, crouching down beside the bed and placing a hand on your upper arm, stroking his thumb back and forth to coax you through an intense contraction. 

“Just breathe, alright?” Using Eddie’s words to guide you, you fight every instinct and do so, forcing air into your lungs before releasing it. And, just like the countless spasms before, this one eventually subsides, granting you a few minutes of bliss before the next one inevitably arrives.

Robin reaches for the cup of water on the table beside you, offering it to you.

Remember how you were talking about time earlier? If the time immediately following Steve’s death was slow, this labor was lasting an eternity. ‘7cm dilated’ the doctor in his crisp white jacket would say, before leaving you to walk yourself through contractions for the next hour. A nurse would come in, check your heart rate, as well as Squid’s, ensuring all vitals are looking good. More waiting. 

Stand up. 

Waddle around. 

Cling to the nearest human for support. 

Return to the bed. 

The doctor returns. 8cm this time. More contractions, more intensity, more frequency. Robin holding your hand, offering it up until she physically can’t take anymore squeezing. She gets up to pace. Eddie takes her spot, cold ringed fingers intertwined between your hot, clammy digits.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Squeeze, release. 

Again and again. 

Another check, you’re at 9cm. You begin to doubt if you can do this. But you know, instinctively, that your body was built to do this. It knows what to do, so you have no choice but to submit yourself to your instincts and release. It’s getting intense, contractions so close that the time of relief in between is now outweighed by the pain. 

Breathe in, breathe-

“It’s time.” The doctor announces, horned spectacles sitting on the bridge of her nose as she examines your cervix for the last time. Robin and Eddie share a look, a mixture of excitement and terror between them while a nurse shuffles into the room. Eddie’s palms are clasped together behind his crown of curls, pacing around the room before settling beside you while Robin helps your legs into the stirrups. It’s go time. It’s exposing, but you feel safe in the presence of your friends. The first order to push is called. Fighting every screaming nerve ending in your body, you do so. And again. And again. It’s as satisfying as it is painful. 

Breathe, hold, bear down. 

Can you do this? 

Again. 

Breathe, hold, bear down. 

This goes on for an eternity, tears running down your burning cheeks in the process. Baby hairs cling to your forehead, sweat droplets accumulating across your face. Robin, against her better judgment, gives in to her curiosity, leaving your side for a moment to glance between your legs. You can practically spot the moment the blood drains from her face, before collapsing to the floor with a dramatic thump. Passed out cold. The nurse quickly attends to her, helping her to one of the armchairs adjacent to you.

“God, Robin! Do you have to make everything about you?” Eddie quips, earning a genuine laugh from you. He grins, grateful that, even if for a small and fleeting moment, he was able to make you smile. Once Robin is back in action, selfishly guzzling the remaining water from your cup, it’s back to business. 

Push. 

Push. 

Push-

A small cry fills the room, rendering all its other occupants silent. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere-

She’s here.

In all her viscera-covered, screaming and writhing glory, she’s presented to you. Soft, new skin meets yours as she’s laid on your chest, the nurse quickly toweling her down as she announces herself to the world. Her first breaths escape as shrill cries through plush, red lips, the most beautiful music to your ears. A low voice speaks praise of how well you did beside you, but you barely register it.

Mouth agape and tears streaming down your cheeks as you take in her tiny image, you tentatively reach out to cup her head, covered in a noticeable amount of dark hair. Stroking her tiny cheeks with the pad of your thumb, you commit every detail to memory. The curve of her nose, her eyes still yet to open to the world, five tiny fingers no longer existing in a black and white image, but in the flesh in front of you.

She’s perfect.

It’s all perfect.

Eddie and Robin stand motionless outside the windows to the newborn nursery, eyes fixated on the bassinet one row back, three to the right. Tucked up like a burrito in a matching pink blanket and matching beanie, she sleeps, unfazed by the sporadic crying of other newborns around her. Neither of them could believe something could be so tiny, watching the most imperceptible movements as Squid squirms around on her mattress. Robin is the one to break the eternal silence, turning to the tall boy beside her.

“She did so well, hey?”

“Yeah, she did.”

She smiles, nudging Eddie’s leather-jacket clad bicep with her elbow. “Thank you for being there for her. You know, when it started.”

Eddie shakes his head, gaze still locked on the bundle in her bassinet.

“It’s nothing, really. She didn’t need me.”

Robin sits on the minuscule windowsill, back pressed to the glass to address Eddie directly.

“I know, she’s strong and everything, but-“ She chews her lip, a nervous habit the two of you shared. “-I just didn’t want her to go through all of this on her own. Especially without Steve…”

Her words trail off, gaze averted to the tiled floor beneath her combat boots as she feels her eyes grow misty. Eddie clocks this, breaking away from the crib to look at Robin, tucking her head into his chest, one hand wrapping around the back of her head in an all-encompassing lock. 

“They’ve got us now. And we’re not going anywhere.”

Robin nods into Eddie’s torso, pulling away to look up at him. Behind her eyes sit nerves, words on the tip of her tongue she’s unsure if she should even speak into the world. But, in true Robin fashion, the words spill out before she gets the chance to stop them.

“Not even if Steve-“ 

Eddie is quick to interject, knowing exactly where this is heading. A conversation they’ve had in your absence many times, and today is not the time nor place to continue it. 

“Don’t, Robin. Not now.” He takes a pace backwards, running a hand over the growing stubble on his jawline. 

“But Eddie, you and I both know there’s a chance-“

“No, there isn’t. Not after this long.”

Teeth between the thin skin of Robin’s lips bear down, causing them to fray and split, her anxiety is palpable as she bounces her knee up and down.

“It’s just, the lights at my place went berserk again and-“

“God, you’re as bad as Henderson.” Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, he takes a moment to compose his next sentence in his head to deliver to Robin as calmly as possible.

“You just- you need to accept that he’s gone, Robin. I know it’s hard, believe me. But right now, you need to focus on looking after your best friend in that room-“ He points down the corridor, past the nurses station to your room. “-and Squid, because you and I both know that’s what Steve would have wanted.”

Robin takes a moment to allow the harsh words to absorb, eyes wide and unflinching as she processes this. The corners of her lips curl up in humility, accepting what she already knows to be true.

“You’re right.” 

No further words are exchanged as the two return to the bassinet, where a small-statured nurse is tending to Squid. Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, denying the doubt that is beginning to creep into his mind. He’s spent days, months, convincing himself that the facts speak for themselves. But he can’t deny that gnawing guilt in the back of his mind, that soul crushing inclination that he might have been wrong, that the events of that night may not have played out as he would like to believe they did. I mean, the odds are 100 to 1- Thankfully, Robin breaks his spiral before it can worsen, tugging on his jacket.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the room.”

Pure exhaustion courses through your veins as the adrenaline dies down, but that endorphin-laced glow fails to subside while you sit with your eyes closed. Not sleeping, just resting. You hear the click of the door handle, Robin entering in first before Eddie trails in behind her. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin asks, immediately beelining to the bed to climb in next to you. She wraps her arm around your torso in a half-energy cuddle, all the while you continue picking at your hospital meal.

“Yeah, great actually. This pudding rocks, you want some?” Robin nods eagerly, her appetite now returning after her fainting incident, presenting her mouth for feeding. You can’t resist turning your small plastic spoon into a plane, complete with whew sounds as it flies through the air and into Robin’s awaiting mouth. She savors the chocolate-y mush, a dramatic moan erupting from her chest as if this is the best meal she’s ever eaten.

“Gotta get the feeding practice in where you can.” Eddie jokes, planting himself into the chair beside you. Robin scrunches her nose in his direction, not impressed by Eddie’s likening her to a helpless newborn. 

The door handle clicks again, and the same nurse from the nursery enters wheeling Squid’s bassinet. Her face is kind, showing years of experience at presenting new mothers with their little ones, a genuine smile on her face as she greets you.

“Someone wanted to see you.” She pushes the crib to the base of the bed before locking the wheels into place. Reaching down, she expertly picks up Squid, supporting her head as she brings her over to you. Robin shuffles beside you, sitting upright to get a perfect view of her as she’s lowered into your arms. With her weight now perfectly distributed in your awaiting arms, you try your best to relax as the tiny stranger squirms around under her blanket. Two heads lean in on either side of you, Robin’s fingertip lightly brushing back the beanie on her head.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe how small she is.” She practically whispers, tracing the soft skin of her forehead. This sensation must have tickled her awake, because two eyes open to the world for the first time, and meet yours. Big and brown, you bite the inside of your lip as you see someone familiar staring back at you for the first time in 9 months. Robin and Eddie both let out an excited laugh, Eddie raising his hand in a small wave to the hour-old infant.

“Hey, Squid!”

“Squid?” The nurse asks with curious amusement, writing down something on the clipboard at the base of the bed.

“Oh, it’s her nickname.” You clarify, tucking the corner of her blanket back into place beneath her shoulder blades.

“Nickname?! I thought it was set in stone!” Eddie says dramatically, looking at you completely deadpan. 

“Yeah, what are we gonna do with all the embroidered onesies?!” Robin adds, joining in with Eddie’s banter. 

“Have you thought of a name?” The nurse asks, still scribbling on the piece of paper.

You study her tiny face, searching for a name that would fit someone as perfect as her. 

“I don’t know, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” You mutter almost to yourself, thinking out loud. 

“More beautiful than Audrey Hepburn?” Eddie asks, cocking his head slightly.

“Oh, definitely.”

“Oh my god, what about Audrey?!” Robin practically squeals, causing the bed to shake as she shoots upright. “It means ‘noble strength’!”

Eddie stares at her with confusion, leaving her to immediately clarify her obscure knowledge.

“What? I kept a book of baby names in the back room at the store but never got past the A’s.”

Of course she did. 

You sit with it for a moment, the name running through your mind a dozen times. Look down at her some more, brushing her chubby cheek with the pad of your thumb. As partial as you’d become to Squid, she needed a name she could live with. Something that suited her. And this felt right.

“Yeah, I like Audrey.”

The three of you look down at her, each of you making an unspoken promise to Audrey that you’ll keep her safe and happy for as long as you’re around, no matter what it takes. Amidst this beautiful moment, Robin, who has never been one for social cues, shoots up out of the bed, causing everyone to jump at the sudden movement.

“Oh my god, Jonathan gave me his camera and I left it in the bike basket! I’ll be right back.” And with a flurry of movement, your best friend darts out of the room. As scattered as she can be at times, you know she’ll do a better job of looking after a priceless baby than an expensive camera.

Eddie’s hand reaches for the blanket, pulling it back down over ten wiggling toes, tentative and careful. He’s never seen a baby before, not this close. Sure, he’s watched cheeky toddlers grabbing candy bars and throwing them into shopping trolleys behind the backs of their mothers at the supermarket, maybe pulling a face in their direction to make them crack a gummy smile at him. He’s watched the housewives of Hawkins from his van before school, pushing strollers in unison with their morning coffee in hand as they run errands. But god, he is completely clueless when it comes to them. And, quite frankly, a bit scared of them.

You can practically hear Eddie’s thoughts as he tip-toes around Squi- no, Audrey. Working up the confidence to touch her, doubting himself with every movement that he might upset her. You sense the question that’s racing through his mind but he wouldn’t dare let escape his lips, his silence is deafening. This is new for everyone. So, maybe you can give him a helping hand. 

“You want to hold her?” It comes out as both a question and a statement, his eyes widening as he instinctively backs away.

“Y-yes. I mean- no! I mean-” Not wanting to offend you, or Audrey, he begins stumbling over his words. “I mean, I just- I don’t know how.”

“Oh, it’s easy, doll.” The nurse chimes in, making her way to Eddie’s side, extending her arms to you. “May I?”

You pass her the precious bundle, and she instructs Eddie to get comfortable and reiterates the importance of supporting her head, further freaking him out. He’s absolutely positive he’s going to break her, his heart about to beat out of his chest as she draws closer. The nurse lowers Audrey to chest height into Eddie’s awaiting arms, nudging her head into the crook of his shoulder. Once she’s confident in his hold, she lets all her weight go, it’s all on Eddie now. Peering down, he did a quick check to make sure she was comfortable, all the while Audrey stared up at him with wonderment. 

“Is this- am I doing it right?” He glimpses between the two of you, seeking validation.

“That’s great.” The nurse confirms, his posture relaxing slightly at her words and warm smile, and she gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, honey. Babies are sturdy, they’re designed to survive new parents.”

You watch Eddie as he holds Audrey for the first time, two old friends finally meeting one another. He studies the feet that would kick his palm through your belly, their old means of communication now gone. He reaches for the tiny hand peeking out from the swaddle, no longer a two-dimensional wave existing only in his work locker. He learns the curve of her nose, not knowing Audrey’s already acutely aware of his familiar scent. He sees his old friend reflected in her brown eyes. His expression is unreadable, as if he’s feeling every emotion all at once. You smile, she’s safe with him, and you hope that she knows that. 

“Got it!” Robin’s voice enters the room before she does, waving the camera around. Very used to the routine, the nurse takes the camera from her as Robin climbs back into bed with you, throwing her arms around your neck and laying her head into the nape of your neck. Eddie shuffles closer to the bed, readjusting Audrey slightly so the camera can see her. The three of you grin the biggest, most genuine smiles you’ve ever displayed in your lives, and a flash goes off, immortalizing the moment.

“Her head’s actually a very normal size.” Robin comments as she leans over your sore body, peering down to assess the circumference of Audrey’s beanie-covered skull.

“If I had the energy, I’d kill you right now.” You joke, pushing her over to her side with a giggle.

Eddie, all the while, thinks about the image that was just taken, knowing nothing will compare to seeing her in the flesh ever again. Regardless, he’s quietly excited about having a new picture to add to his locker on Monday.

[paragonrobits]

so this has been bugging me ever since i saw this post. Part of it is that this is a pretty common criticism that mostly seems to boil down to people who think the found family trope is the POINT of the story, rather than a facet of it and think that any ending other than staying together forever is a failure, and this is pretty reductive. lots of stories have end goals and purposes beyond found family, like there's agendas and goals beyond finding a group of people you like, there's things like justice and Saving the World and liberating sapient beings from subjugation and so forth, but the thing that bothers me the most about this is that it kind of illustrates the biggest issue with this kind of found family fixation

that almost none of the tagged series are actually a case of found families.

you see this a lot, but more often than not they're not actually found families. They're co workers. They're people who have similar agendas and shared goals, or they're hired by a larger organization, or they're working together for the same end, or they're led by the vision and goal of a magnetic leader, but I think you could honestly make an argument that none of these are actual cases of found family.

Star Trek is the most explicit case; they didn't volunteer to go together, mostly. they're people who serve on the same ship, and that's it. they might get along, or constantly argue, but they're co-workers.

The Outer Worlds is, they're generally following the Unplanned Variable, working with them and each other because they have nowere else to go, or they see it as a job, or they went 'fuck it, not like i have anything else going on'. They bicker and fight and most of them don't particularly like each other.

Dragon Age and Mass Effect all go together since, in this case, with the probable exception of Dragon Age 2 (which, i'll grant you, actually probably is a found family to some degree), they're also working together for a common goal, and that's the primary reason they meet you. Dragon Age 1 is them staying together to fight the Blight and save the world, DA2 is mostly a case of 'I FUCKING LIVE HERE', Inquisition is all the party members joining the Inquisition to save thge world from demon doom and fight the machinations of Tevinter imperialists. The Mass Effect series has something similar for the most part, from the 'fight the Reapers' motivation of the triology as well as Andromeda focusing on building a home in a new galaxy.

DA and ME both are people who share a larger goal, and are working together SPECIFICALLY for that goal; while its easy to build friendships, their mutual bond is not the primary reason they work together. They do that because its either work together or everyone dies. There's a larger goal, and their own agendas and fears (such as Wrex's concern for his people, or the quarian/geth conflict) can become factors in that. Even further proving my point here, a lot of the ME games have squad members not returning to be party members in other games because they have bigger matters; Wrex is only a squad member in ME1 and a single DLC because he has bigger things to do in leading his people rather than getting directly involved in Shepard's mission. They might care about each other, but their own goals ultimately come first.

I like found family, as a trope. I do! But its a trope that tends to get REALLY badly misused and applied to every group of characters with decent chemistry, even if they clearly only share a goal and don't want to stay together past that point, or even if they outright openly hate each other.

Another big issue with it is that the constant treatment of the found family not sticking together afterwards being seen as a failure state. Again, these aren't families; these are groups made to serve a goal, and the goal is done, so now they have other things to do. The implicaiton from a lot of these criticisms of the found family seperating implies that you might think that you're morally obligated to spend the rest of your life with the first people you meet that vaguely tolerate you, and that's just a platonic version of conservative 'get married out of high school ASAP' relationship values.

[ofsappho]

treehouse chapter 29 (tumblr version)

🔞 Dream of the Endless I Lord Morpheus x reader 🔞

Unplanned pregnancy, SMUT. 8.5k words of sin.

crossposted to AO3 (want to read the whole story? click here)

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You run and Morpheus goes after you. Tags under read more. posted here for the folks who want the smut without wading through a ton of plot.

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SMUT TAGS:

primal kink, hide and seek/running and hunting, CNC, consent check ins, aftercare, tentacles if you squint, one sided hate sex (she hates him, he loves her)

Reader POV:

You stop screaming about halfway down once you realize that you’re not falling - you’re floating. Like a fucking flower petal.

You land feet-first on the soft, green grass outside the castle and promptly ruin everything by stumbling to your knees, scraping your skin raw and red against the dirt. It’s not your fault. Flying wasn’t on the fucking agenda.

The storm above roils with flashes of sickly yellow lightning and sullen, moody clouds.

Anger bleeds from you like the slit throat of the man you murdered. The feeling clings to your skin, warming you against the tempest’s chill.

It’s been a very long time since you’ve punished someone other than yourself, and you lust half-starved for Morpheus’s misery, for the chance to try your freshly-blooded canines.

As you get to your feet, the fog surrounding you lifts just enough to show flashes of a thick, thorny wood up ahead. A forest fashioned from charcoal shadows and long, spindly branches with no leaves. Not trees, only their skeletons.

It will do. Does the dried blood on your shirt make you some kind of morbid Little Red Riding Hood? If that’s the case, the Big Bad Wolf always dies in the end. Perfect.

Without looking back, you sprint for it.

-

Lucienne POV

While Lucienne’s life has become more exciting since Lord Morpheus decided to make you his business, it certainly hasn’t gotten easier.

After all, what is his business is her business. Therefore, you and your relationship are her business.

She was doing a perfectly acceptable job managing everything, she thinks to herself somewhat crossly, until the two of you decided to make her life worse.

But while she doesn’t understand why you are trying to escape when you will never, ever make it out of this realm without the Lord’s permission, she accepts that it is not her place to question such… obscure, esoteric decisions and seeks to assist you as requested. To an extent.

Why, is Lord Morpheus’s coat on fire? Lucienne hasn’t seen him so worked up since Rose Walker. Not even then. “Where is she?” He demands, using the rolling thunder and howling wind as his voice.

Play dumb. “��Who is ‘she,’ my lord?” Lucienne winces. Perhaps not that dumb.

Though none of the books can catch fire, as they are not written upon flammable, single-use Waking-world paper, Lucienne resists the urge to beat the hem of his flaming robe away from the stacks of parchment and dream-paper. Call it a librarian’s force of habit.

“My- my intended.” The king’s glare would put the fear of the Endless in any lesser being.

But Lucienne is no lesser being. In fact, she’s rather put out at the complete absence of decorum Lord Morpheus has seen fit to show… this entire debacle.

Sneaking around like a common thief? Lying to you, keeping you completely unaware of the station that he has elevated you to? Casting disgrace and disrepute on the Dreaming and its people by terrifying you of it so?

Lord Morpheus practically dragged you here stark naked and screaming, for all intents and purposes.

And to add insult to injury, he dares to act as though she should be thrilled to debase herself before him.

“I don’t recall ever meeting your intended, my king. You must forgive me,” Lucienne snaps, peering at the figure on fire over the tops of her spectacles.

She is not so decrepit as to misremember when Lord Morpheus formally put forth his suit for the Lady Calliope.

Every realm and kingdom rang with it. Lord Morpheus brought the Lady Calliope in full honor through the Gates of Horn and Ivory, in a gleaming chariot of gold drawn by Helios’s horses covered in rose garlands.

In Lucienne’s unasked opinion, it is the height of disrespect on her Lord’s part to deprive you of such honors. She’s not surprised you’ve rejected him, and neither should he.

His flaming cloak flares blue, leaving holes in the carpet. Repairing them will significantly inconvenience Merv. They may need to replace the whole floor at the rate their king is going. What a pointless waste of a good carpet.

“You are my Vizier. You are my right hand. If you cannot tell me where that woman is, I will throw you out that window myself. And then I shall strip you of your position and seal, and set the hounds of Hell on what remains of you.”

Lucienne doesn’t think it’s nearly that serious. But then again, she has never been in love like Lord Morpheus loves, nor has she misstepped the way Lord Morpheus perennially steps on cracks in concrete.

In her mind, Lucienne apologizes to you. She hoped to grant you a little more time. “She went that way,” Lucienne says, gesturing to the Great Beyond on the outskirts of the kingdom. Hopefully, you’ve made it far enough to enact whatever chaotic scheme you’re brewing.

“Good luck, Lord Morpheus!” He’ll need it.

Lucienne watches the king disappear without a word of thanks. Once she’s sure that he’s gone, she goes to inspect the damage to the library.

Her earlier fears were warranted; the carpet is done for, along with a few floorboards. They’re singed to a crisp, filling the air with an acrid, burnt stink. With a long, suffering, frustrated sigh, Lucienne summons the pumpkin-headed caretaker.

-

Reader POV

Your shoes-

They’re getting in the way. The laces have come undone, and you trip over them, then over a series of tree roots rippling above the ground.

When you kick them off in an impulsive, frustrated fit, you expect the ground to be full of sharp things, thorns, jagged pebbles, and maybe even a few bones.

Your feet instead sink into pillowy-soft dirt. As soon as your toes go near a twig, the hard edges around it blunt until it metamorphoses into a blade of tender young grass. The pebbles turn into balls of fuzzy moss, and upon closer inspection, the bones are oddly shaped mushrooms.

So Lucienne was telling the truth when she said nothing in this place could hurt you.

The wind picks up, blowing your hair around your face in a halo and rustling through the leaves in a high, wailing sound, screeching like a pulled fire alarm left too long.

The hairs on your arms stand, and goosebumps trail down your spine.

As you start to run again, you wonder if you’re not only hearing the wind but also some wounded creature crooning and crying out for help.

It’s coming from behind you, from the castle.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

You feel a cramp open up in your side from running so hard, from panting and clawing for oxygen to keep you upright and moving.

The forest goes on and on, a never-ending series of towering, menacing dead trees with gaping shadows and a horizon that grows increasingly distant no matter how far you go.

Fragments of dried bark dig into your palm as you brave yourself on a withered tree trunk.

Run.

You lurch a few feet forward.

The shadows grow maws. They grow fangs. They nip at the backs of your heels.

Morpheus is coming for you.

Everything aches, but you keep going. Your stomach grows nauseous, but you keep going.

The sky above you turns a sickly shade of blue-gray, a horrible warning sign for the torrent of freezing rain about to accompany your desperate, hunted flight.

He will catch you, stick his claws in your back, and parade you through that grand palace in chains.

Or not.

Morpheus says he loves you. Look at what you’ve done with your love for him. No chains are needed for the dead.

But who knows?

You don’t. You do know better than to hope.

That thought carries you just a little further. No matter how weary or wounded you become, you’ll never stop fighting for yourself or your baby bird.

Your heart pounds in your chest like a war drum, and your blood sings in your veins.

You flee past two trees, then three, then four. Their long arms beckon you to turn down one of their dark, haunted paths, to put your back to the horizon and lose yourself in the underbrush like a rabbit running straight into a trap.

You cling to slivers of gold and orange sunbeams peeking through the branches with all the dying hope you can dredge up. The edge of the forest isn’t that far away. You’ll feel the sun on your face and outrun the storm in a moment.

A twig snaps.

Something takes a step. It breathes.

At the corner of your eyes, the shadows pulse and twist. 

So he’s found you. You never truly thought you’d make it out of here, but disappointment weighs on your chest like a brick pulling you into the depths of a cold, unforgiving lake. The forest may have had no end, and you were only deluding yourself that it did.

The scent of salt and ice is so heavy in the air that you can taste frozen crystals forming on the roof of your mouth, briny with a tinge of iron.

A dark, endless void of shadows blocks your path, reaching the top of the stormy sky. “Boo.” Morpheus wears a disgusting smile filled with sharp white teeth. It makes you feel things. Abject terror. The impulse to drop to your knees and beg for mercy. And a sick, sadistic heat under your skin.

He came hunting.

You love it.

He wears a red flush on his stark white cheeks as if chasing you took effort. “Dream.” The show is appreciated, even though you both know his godly biology doesn’t work like that. A+ for effort.

It enhances the glowing blue of his irises, like twin stars shining bright in his face against the rich obsidian cloak with a smoking hem flaring around his shoulders. He is a stained glass painting of an archangel, and you are the creature of clay and Adam’s blood barred from Heaven.

You watch the razor edge of his teeth sink into his bottom lip with a feeling reminiscent of envy rotting in the pit of your stomach.

His voice has the sensuality of freshly carded silk brushing over bare skin. “How on earth did you find yourself out here, beloved? These woods are dangerous. They say there is a monster here that eats pretty girls.” Morpheus tilts his head slightly, and his smirk widens.

Your rust-colored nails flex and dig into the hem of your sweater. “Do you get many of those passing through?” You snark back. If I’m so special, prove it. Do what you wouldn’t do for a goddess, or a queen, or a star.

Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t land. He acts like you’re the only person he’d come for. “None as pretty as you. So what are you doing alone? My lady, I’d be delighted to lead you back to the castle. You’re shivering.” There is a grating, patronizing indulgence in his tone. He’s fucking humoring you. He knows you’re full of shit and that no matter how hard you deny it, his feelings are a truth you can’t sully.

That doesn’t mean you’ll give up. “I’m not going back.” How far can you go before Morpheus turns away? How terrible and cruel and horrible can you be before he decides you’re not worth the trouble?

You want- no, need to find out.

It’s only fair. You have suffered, and you never stopped loving him. Let Dream suffer and see if his love endures, if he’s even half the person you are.

In the blink of an eye, the shadows disappear as if they were never there. “Anything could happen to you. Some fiend could carry you off-“ Morpheus says evenly as his cloak shifts into the elegant coat you adore.

Now, he is but a beautiful stranger in the woods. Your clothes are a weak, flimsy barrier to his searching, heated gaze, trailing intimately over the full curves of your body and your rounded belly.

Has Morpheus read your mind and revealed your own brutal desire concealed in your skull like a minefield waiting to explode? “You’ve already done that.” Maybe he didn’t need to. You’ve given yourself away in your dilated pupils, and how you gave up on running as soon as you got what you wanted.

“Hurt you-“ Dream ignores your provocation as he spreads his long-fingered hands, showing he holds no weapon or trick.

For every step he takes towards you, you take one back. “You also already did that,” You frostily remind him.

Morpheus’s coat would irritate you less if it were cast off on the ground and crushed into the dirt along with the rest of his clothes. His hair would be prettier fucked up and tugged between your fingers. You might be able to stand the sight of his mouth better if it were bleeding and bruised from your teeth.

The corner of his mouth ticks up as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Or dishonor you, right here. Who would hear you scream?” He backs you against a tree, and the bark snags your sweater. “Nobody,” Morpheus leans in to whisper. His collarbones peek out of the neckline of his shirt, as delicately articulated as the hollow bones of a bird.

Heat stirs in your blood at the sight.

You felt good watching that man die for Morpheus. And then empty, dreadfully empty. “Don’t touch me,” You hiss, more of a challenge than a deterrent. You want to feel good again.

Morpheus could make you feel good again.

A black shade knocks on your skull at the edges of your vision and politely asks to be let in. Your eyes roll back as it walks through the door you’ve opened inside of yourself and sees what you define as ‘good.’

“…Is that what you really want, darling?” Dream asks, both mocking your resistance and subtlety, softly acknowledging what he found behind your eyes.

Bile builds in your mouth. No. No softness. He has no right. “Why would I ever let you near me again? You are a liar and a fucking dick,” You hiss venomously before gathering saliva and spitting straight into his face.

Morpheus blinks a few times, his eyes round and blameless. “I love you.” For a single breathless second, you don’t hate him, and he never hurt you. You’re two children playing tag in the grass or tackling each other into the dirt.

You snap out of it. “Fuck off.” You feel a thousand degrees hotter. Sticky sweat gathers under your clothes along the heavy curve of your breasts and clings to the small of your back.

He braces one muscled arm on the tree above you and leans in to take in the scent of your hair, so close that his lips almost skim the shell of your ear. “I adore you like this. Fighting me, fighting yourself. It’s charming.” You shiver, unable to stop yourself from reacting.

He’s not touching you. When he exhales, you feel his breath pass over your cheek. He takes a step closer, looming tall and majestic over you. Morpheus delicately pins his arm on your other side, effectively boxing you in.

But he’s still not touching you.

You swallow quickly.

“I’m not fucking doing it for your benefit. Can’t you take a hint? I said no. You have shown me amply this past month how little of a fuck you give. So why don’t you keep doing that and go the fuck away?”

Despite his best efforts at seeming harmless, you can’t shake the impression of his wild, almost-inhumanly blue eyes and too-gaunt cheekbones, like a wraith wearing an angel’s wings.

His eyes trail over your flushed cheeks and the pink of your tongue as you lick your lips.

He reaches out to cradle your face before pulling his hand back when he sees you lean in. “Ah, so this is a test. You want to see how far I’m willing to go. You want to see what I’ll do for you, how long I’ll wait, and how much patience I have,” Morpheus murmurs in a voice as soft as fog.

You should-

You should tell him that he’s got it all wrong. You should tell him that you’ll never forgive him and there’s nothing he can do. You’ve made up your mind and hardened your heart.

“And if it is?” 

He kisses you.

The worst part is that you let him.

Morpheus’s hands clutch you against him, your belly brushes his coat, his lips are warm and inviting, and he kisses you like he’s waited his whole long immortal life to do it. His tongue brushes yours, drawing a quiet moan from you. He tastes like salt and musk, and your arms circle his neck, pulling him further into your kiss.

“Then I look forward to passing it,” Morpheus says breathlessly as he breaks away, pressing his forehead to your temple as if nothing is wrong.

With strength you didn’t know you had, you take him by the lapels of his coat and shove him back. Fuck him. Fuck this.

You turn and run before he realizes what’s happening. Panic isn’t egging you on anymore - it’s your fury, smothered slightly but not anywhere near finished. Oh no, you’re not fucking done with Morpheus. You want to see him draped in your agony, you want the light in his eyes extinguished.

You don’t make it two feet. Darkness wraps you up in a warm, gentle embrace, blocking out the whole world other than Dream, watching you struggle with his arms crossed over his chest.

Shadows thread around your wrists, pinning them behind your back. “Running away again? I’ll always catch you, and you’ll never escape.” Morpheus runs a finger along your jawline. His skin feels cool, and the touch is far too tender.

“You don’t know half of what I’m capable of.” Your glare would singe his stupidly immaculate hair off if it could.

His finger trails down your throat and hooks in the neckline of your bloody sweater, pulling it slightly away from your body. “I think I do. I think I know you better than anyone else, dead or alive.” For every ounce of your poison, Dream gives you back steady, unwavering adoration, tugging on the sweater without shying from the stains.

When the damned thing gives, you’re not even that upset. It falls to the ground in two pieces, leaving you in your tank top and pants.

“What the fuck?” You squirm in your makeshift binds, trying and failing to find a sharp edge you could use to convince him to release you.

“That divine mouth of yours may lie, but this,” Morpheus hisses as he rests his palm at the base of your throat to feel your blood rush crazed and wild at his touch. “This doesn’t.” The corner of his mouth turns up as you moan, reluctantly eager for him to tighten his grasp just a little more.

Morpheus tuts before releasing your throat.

Before your feelings smart from the loss, his shadows pluck at the straps of your tank top. “How fucking dare you? Get off of me.”

“But I don’t want to,” Morpheus parries in a high-pitched, playfully mocking tone.

Oh, he has a goddamn death wish. “Do you think I care?” When one of the shadowy tendrils tries to sweep lovingly across your cheek, you bite it. Hard. It tastes like fresh snow. You far prefer it to Desire’s sickly-sweet flesh.

With a single flick of his hand, he makes a deep crimson mark appear on his throat, a perfect image of the imprint of your teeth. Morpheus tilts his face as proudly as if he were wearing a crown.

“I’ve thought about having you like this, bare in our home, ever since I left you.” He rids you of your pants with surgical precision, casting the shreds of rust-speckled fabric somewhere, never to be found again. As Morpheus turns to your tank top, his shadows tighten their grip on your hands, pushing your chest forward.

You watch the intelligence and rational thought die in his eyes when he sees your breasts free of clothing, hanging round and heavy in the cool air.

“What? You’ve never seen my boobs before?” You snarl after growing tired of a full minute of speechlessness.

Your dark binds tug you back and back until you find yourself held upright by a tree trunk.

Dream delicately sweeps strands of your hair away from your throat so he can see without obstruction. “They’re… they’re bigger,” He whispers hoarsely. His fingers pause in their exploration of your sternum long enough to feel your pulse thudding under your skin.

Then he covers one of your breasts with his palm. You hear him groan under his breath when he realizes there’s far too much you for one of his hands. “I distinctly, intimately, precisely remember the shape and size of yours, and they’ve grown…” His fingers knead your soft breasts slowly, relieving a tenderness you didn’t even know you had.

There’s absolutely nothing sacred or respectful in his eyes glittering like sapphires. He only has a wolf’s hunger for a rabbit for you.

And then his face is pressed to the crook of your neck, his lips moving on the column of your throat as he runs a thumb over your nipple once, twice.

His touch feels different. Maybe he’s fucking with your head, or maybe being pregnant has done something to your nerves. Every little movement feels like too much pleasure and not enough of it at the same time.

Heat washes through you, blooming from his mouth and his hands to pour into your belly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking creepy, oh-“ You gasp, hating how much your body craves him.

Your underwear sticks to your thighs as you shift in search of a position that lessens the ache in your core.

Your head falls against the tree as you writhe in his hold. He runs his nails along the curve of your breast, greedily soaking in your every whimper and how you jolt, unconsciously arching closer.

You feel Morpheus lick a hot line along your throat. “Sensitive.” His other hand clutches your waist, your round hips, then palms your ass. A contented groan rumbles deep in his chest.

In revenge, you tug fervently at his coat, getting it about halfway down his strong shoulders before you start clawing at his shirt. The fabric disappears beneath your fingers, leaving him as bare-chested as you.

Instead of avoiding your nails, Morpheus encourages you to carve gilded furrows into his back. “I’m sorry, I cannot- I can’t help myself,” He says, far too pleased with himself to mean that stupid apology. 

You look down to see what’s captured his attention now, only to find your tits littered with fingerprint bruises.

That sudden movement displeases him, and he pins you against the tree with a hand on your throat. “Beautiful. And when I…” When he leans down to take one of your nipples into his hot mouth and sucks, bolts of lightning dance and fizz under your skin, electrifying every nerve.

Your hips tremble and push towards him as your dripping cunt pulses and flexes around nothing. “Stop it,” You moan, trying to shove him away yet only managing to tangle your fingers in his hair. Then he switched to your other breast, kissing and lapping at the hypersensitive skin. “Oh God.” You give up fighting for a moment, too caught up in the sensations to care about your pride.

Morpheus barely has to apply the slightest pressure with his knee for your legs to part.

His fingers drag along your inner thighs to capture the arousal leaking through your panties. Before you get the chance to feel ashamed, Dream sucks his shiny fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste with an almost-blissful glaze across his eyes.

With his lips still coated in you, Morpheus looks like the very picture of sin.

After he’s cleaned his fingers, he runs them along the soaked cloth covering your cunt, pressing down just enough to tease. “You’re so needy, my love. I’m horribly cruel, aren’t I, letting you suffer in this state without my assistance.” You grind your hips against his hand, trying to get him to do something about your needy, swollen clit, desperate for relief.

He tastes like salt and sex when he kisses you. “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.” Morpheus tears through your underwear like ripping paper. He works your clit with his thumb until you’ve soaked his palm and then slides a single finger into your pussy. Without waiting for you to adjust, he sinks in a second finger knuckle-deep.

You cry out, shaking like a leaf, as your core spasms and milks his digits. You thought that could satisfy the ache but it barely scratches the surface. You need more-

You take his chiseled face between your hands and drag him down for another kiss. “I literally despise you.” To spite him further, you mulishly keep your mouth shut as he starts fucking you with his long fingers. 

It turns out that your stifled whines aren’t needed. Your wet cunt more than makes up for it. Loud, soaked squelches echo, and your legs shut to hide the sounds. That only forces Dream’s fingers deeper into your pussy and grinds your throbbing clit into his palm.

You can’t stay quiet a second longer, not as your stomach tightens and tears gather in your eyes from the rush. Those breathless, pathetic noises are all yours, and Morpheus answers them with a breathless laugh.

He keeps up a steady rhythm, carefully and precisely aiming for that sensitive spot deep inside that drives you fucking insane. “You want me to be the villain? Is that it?”

You sink your teeth into his shoulder as deep as they’ll go as your thighs shake, ecstasy rushing painfully through your muscles.

His eyes burn a brighter shade of sapphire when you bite him again. “You wish for me to be cruel? To torment you?” Morpheus wraps his other arm around your hips to help you fuck yourself on his digits. “No, beloved. I won’t,” He purrs in your ear and then kisses away the sweat from your brow.

“Go fuck yourself, Morpheus. I hate you. I hate you,” You chant in a trembling, weak voice. He doesn’t need to help you anymore, you’re shamelessly riding his hand and dripping slick to the ground.

“And I love you.”

You cry out at his words. They fucking- they do something that makes you feel hotter, more sensitive, drives you closer to the edge.

“I want- that’s it, my darling. You’re close. I can feel it.” Your pussy quivers repeatedly as the tension in your belly grows unbearable. He quirks his fingers, hitting that sensitive place as he rocks your puffy clit into his palm.

Your body is betraying you, and you’re just fucking letting him ruin you. “No. No. No, fuck- no, I’m not,” You try, blubbering denials through cries of pleasure.

Morpheus fucks into you faster, harder, matching the pace your hips set. “Tell me what you need. Use me for your pleasure, beloved.” Fuck. Fuck. You’re going to-

Your knee slides up a little, giving him more room to stretch your tight cunt further. “Come for me. I know you want to.” His tone is soft and affectionate, calling to you sweeter than a siren’s song. It tells you to give in and promises unimaginable bliss if you do.

You come with your eyes rolled back and your mouth open, shuddering, your hips jerking on his fingers, and waves of hot flame pouring down your spine.

Your orgasm fucking drenches his fingers and your muscles clamp down tighter, each vicious pulse so strong that you taste iron in the back of your mouth. All you can hear is your heartbeat, loud and insistent, and the low sound of Morpheus’s approval. You’re wracked with pleasure, wholly gone to anything else.

Just before the feeling dwindles, Dream slides his fingers out of your swollen folds, forcing you to finish coming on nothing. “That’s it. There you go. Good girl,” He says with a smile. Your frustrated wail fills the air, and you clutch at his wrist, wordlessly begging for more. “I’m not so loathsome now, hm?” Morpheus showers your face with delicate kisses, pausing only to clean a tear from your cheek with light kitten-licks.

The two of you rest there for a moment. You’re slumped between him and the tree, panting and spent and warm, while he gently rubs your back, waiting for you to catch your breath.

Once Morpheus deems you suitably recovered, he traces the marks he scattered on your chest. He smears the slick gathered on his hand across your nipples, then bends down to lick your juices from your skin. The feeling of him mouthing your tits, the sharp edge of his teeth scraping and biting, overwhelms you, and your knees buckle.

Morpheus catches you and lowers you to the ground. Dried leaves find their way into your hair and crunch under your back as you stretch out like a lazy cat.

“I have a feeling that I’d be able to make you come simply from playing with your breasts,” He murmurs as he kneels between your open legs before laying another series of kisses over the bite marks. “My lady, you are truly the most sublime creature I’ve ever touched.”

You roll your eyes and half-heartedly push his head away. “Yeah, well, you’ll be lucky if I let you near them again.” His hair feels soft and downy under your fingers like the underbelly of a bird. That’s another thing to resent him for. Why can’t he be ugly with bad hair?

Dream’s canines leave imprints in your hand when he bites, clearly communicating how he feels about being denied access to you. “We’re just getting started, darling. Your game isn’t over.” 

You look up at his fair, radiant face, shining brighter than a full moon, and his mouthful of nightmarish, fanged teeth, and wonder for the first time if this was a mistake.

That’s how you find yourself riding his face while being forced toward your third orgasm of the night.

The second orgasm passed by in a shimmering haze of heat and lust.

Morpheus pulled you astride his shoulders without fanfare, clamped his hands around your plump thighs, and dragged your sensitive cunt onto his open, wet, and waiting mouth. You hit and kicked, you even tried forcing his head back with a fist in his dark hair, but he gave you the most glorious and beguiling grin at the sudden violence. You couldn’t give him any more satisfaction, so you had to let go and let him do… what he wanted.

Hands made of antimatter gripped your hips and held you upright by your hair. He thumbed your swollen folds, carefully tracing around your clit but never touching it. You weren’t able to look into his eyes from this position - your belly was just large enough to hide most of his face when you were on top. But you had a pretty good guess about how he felt about your wet cunt dangling before his lips, like fruit to be easily plucked, split open, and devoured. You heard him fucking whimper, a stupidly arousing, frustrated sound, and then his arms forced you down.

It took Dream no time to make you crumble like a deck of cards. He lapped his tongue through your folds, smearing your arousal over his lips, before working carefully on your reddened clit. Morpheus’s strong hands endured your desperate attempt to escape him by clutching you tighter.

He sucked on your bundle of nerves once, then twice. You tried to tell yourself mind over matter, that if you focused hard enough, you could ignore the pleasure rippling through you.

Of course, that meant you came so suddenly that your stomach tied itself into knots, and your spasming, throbbing cunt soaked his face. The waves snatched every scrap of air out of your lungs, so you couldn’t even plead for mercy or cry out. You gasped, hunched over with hair in your face, silently screaming and shivering, as your brain turned to slush and your eyes glazed over.

Now, Dream takes sadistic pleasure in teasing that third orgasm out and denying it to you every single fucking time.

There’s an obscene squelch when he thrusts two fingers into your cunt, finally filling the awful, hollow ache. “Fuck, fuck, oh my God, Morpheus… please…” You babble, mindlessly grinding down on his tongue.

He takes his mouth off you and slowly strokes his digits inside you, far too gentle to get you off. “Please what? Please what?” Morpheus mocks as you almost collapse into the shadows, letting them take your full weight.

You try to hide your mewls by biting on your lips and end up cutting yourself, fresh blood joining the fine layer of sweat covering your face and body. “Stop, I’m- it’s too much. You have to stop.” You have no fucking clue what you’re begging for anymore. You’re dumb to it all, helpless and panting and begging for the fever that rises every time he drags the tips of his fingers over your g-spot.

A shadowy tendril wipes the blood from your chin before crawling into your mouth, gagging you so you can’t bite yourself anymore.

More tendrils curl around your breasts and pluck at your hardened, swollen nipples. “You need more? Is that what I’m hearing? Does my lady want more?” Now he matches the rhythm of his fingers with kisses along your shuddering thighs, occasionally pausing to suck and lap at the juices covering your skin.

The tendril in your mouth dissipates into smoke so you can answer. “No, shit, aaah-“ Strands of your hair stick to your cheeks as you writhe and gasp for air.

Morpheus tries to withdraw his fingers to deny you again, tease you again, punish you again, but you’re having none of it. You blindly reach down, grab his slick hand, and urge it back towards your greedy pussy.

He laughs roughly, then kisses your hip with petal-soft lips as he obeys. “That’s it, darling. Does it feel good yet?” Fuck. Fuck. It does. You’re so full, your core flutters and milks his digits, but it’s not right or enough to satisfy the burning wildfire of desire that’s driving you mad.

You shake your head to try and get some control back, to clear your head. All you want is to just- just to give in, let him have you, let him replace every thought and word and will with himself. “No,” You stutter through slightly numb lips, your eyelashes trembling.

Your nails find his wrist and dig in as deep as they can go.  Shimmering gold blood coats your thighs, and the mess gets worse and worse when Morpheus starts to bounce you on his face, eagerly drinking from your creamy folds.

“Go on. You can tell me. I know you fucking love this. Just like you love me.” As Dream is far too busy eating you out like he’s starving to lift his mouth, his voice is muffled by the slick, disgusting sounds of his tongue, his fingers, your cunt.

“I… I…” You scrabble for purchase in the dark, searching for something to hold onto, anything that can stabilize you. The hands that intertwine with yours aren’t the ones kneading your ass or fucking you into oblivion, but they’re just as reassuring as Morpheus’s real hands.

His mouth works your clit, getting rougher, messier, sucking harder. “Sweet girl, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your noises and, fuck, the taste of you. And this pretty, pretty cunt. So sensitive. Delicious.” Dream braces one hand on your lower belly, just above your core, applying faint pressure to heighten the sensations.

“But I need you to come. Please, my darling. Please,” He moans against your puffy folds, forcing in a third finger as you wail and thrash.

Just like that, you’re shoved off the cliff, screaming and sobbing. Tears cover your cheeks as your hips move on their own, wrenching out every last bit of pleasure you can. It hurts so fucking much yet feels so fucking good. Static electricity arcs through your limbs, and even the faintest breeze whispering across your bare back makes your overstimulated core flicker and squeeze his fingers harder.

His shadows lovingly lower you to the ground, helping you curl on your side around your rounded tummy. Exhaustion filters in slowly, wrapping you in a gossamer blanket of numbness and calming your frazzled nerve endings.

Dream is there. Dream is curling protectively around your shaking form, he slides an arm under your neck to support your head, and his other hand squeezes the back of your neck. You bury yourself in his embrace and let him rock you like a child.

Here, stitched as close to him as you can be, the horrible past forty-eight hours starts to be less horrible and more foggy, like looking at something in the rear-view mirror as you drive away.

You can let yourself love him in this moment. You can be weak for a little while longer.

When you lay your palm against his heart, you feel it thudding as furiously as your own.

Morpheus exhales slowly as the feeling of you in his arms leeches the tension from his muscles. Even if you wanted to push him away, which you don’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to do it. So, for now, you’ll let him keep you here.

He kisses you as many times as he can, everywhere he can reach. Your baby hairs, your smile lines, the corners of your eyes.

Before Morpheus wipes your cheeks clean of tears, he cleans his fingers off with his tongue. Then he’s stroking away the stinging salt water dotting your skin. A furrow grows on his smooth, unwrinkled brow out of concentration.

When you start crying again out of relief, hiccuping ungracefully and snot going everywhere, his large hand tucks you into the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry. I know, I know,” Morpheus soothes. “Do you want us to be done now? Are you finished?” He’s warmer than a furnace, and you instinctively wrap an arm around his waist and shove your feet between his calves, seeking that comfort with single-minded determination.

His small chuckle is as sweet and fragile as spun sugar.

You absentmindedly trace the veins crawling up the back of his hand as you think.

Then your anger begins to grow back, rotting through your lungs and making each breath taste like death, and you have your answer. “I want… don’t make me say it, Morpheus,” You mutter into his skin and follow it with a tiny, tiny bite, more of a nip than anything else.

This time, when Morpheus unfurls the petals of your mind, you anticipate it eagerly.

You want him, and you loathe it, and it’s choking you. “I should. I ought to make you beg on your knees,” He tells you.

You need him to cut the strife and self-loathing from your chest and smooth out your riled, tangled heartstrings, and then put you back together again. He has to pluck the violence out of your hand as if it were a knife and point it somewhere it can’t hurt you, ideally towards himself.

Dream goes quiet. He pets your hair and rests his cheek against your forehead. You’re beginning to think the softness isn’t just for your benefit; he’s drinking his fill to tide him over until the next time you let Dream touch you like this.

And there will be a next time, a gentle, honey-sweet next time. That promise runs true in your mind, buried deep beneath the layers of poison and resentment like a vein of untouched gold.

His star-filled eyes flutter shut. “Fine. Fine. I can’t deny you anything. Just a little further, and then you can rest.” When they open, his pupils twist and stretch into a monstrous, serpentine gash of black against his brilliant blue irises.

“N- no more?” You hear yourself ask for mercy, easily slipping into the role of the maiden to his beast.

Morpheus rises on his knees and hovers over your vulnerable form. “No more, my love. Can you be brave like I know you are? Can you take it for me?” He asks as the fingers stroking your cheek turn into obsidian claws for a moment.

You are not supposed to find this attractive. You’re meant to be terrified right now, unwilling, pushing him away with conviction of any kind.

“…Yes.” Yes. Take me. A warm, needy craving makes you draw up your knees to conceal your filthy, ruined cunt, glistening with fresh arousal.

The claws metamorphize into fingers before the sharp edges can slice your skin. Morpheus is no less intimidating without them, looking down at you like you’re a pretty toy in his palm. You’ll miss them, though, and you swallow your disappointment before he notices.

He lifts you from the ground before gently turning you until you face away, unable to see him while he can control all of you. “That’s it, beloved. On your knees, arch your back.” The stoic, hardened mask cracks slightly as he runs an open palm up and down your body, inevitably running into the baby in your belly. You’re surprised he lasted so long without asking about it.

Maybe Morpheus didn’t think he had the right to until now.

Your back presses into his broad, muscled chest. “May I?” He asks before slowly kissing your neck. His hair tickles your earlobe, and you feel a soft puff of air ghost over your skin when he exhales.

“Our baby.” You even surprise yourself by resting his hand over the swell of your soft, squishy tummy.

Dream strokes the rounded skin with hardly any force, suddenly treating you as delicately as he’d handle a fragile eggshell. His breathing hitches, and tension strings his tendons as tight as they can go.

If only you could capture this in a painting or trap it in a snow globe so you could relive the feeling of trusting him again over and over.

It’s too much. It’s far too much. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you shove his hand away from your skin. He’s too close, too soft, and too kind.

You’re not sure if you deserve it, and you sure as shit don’t want it.

As fast as a viper striking a hapless mouse, Morpheus grabs the back of your neck and traps you in place. His long fingers wrap around your throat, and his nails prick your skin. “You’re insatiable,” He tells you, then forces you down until the side of your face meets the forest floor.

He leaves your arms where they cushion you on the ground, correctly judging that bringing them behind your back will hurt in an unpleasant way, and instead keeps his dominance with a fist in your tangled hair. Dried leaves crush under your cheek as you try to prop yourself up and rest his strength. Dream doesn’t give an inch, and eventually, your body grows pliant and submissive beneath him.

His fingers dance up and down your spine in a soothing pattern. “Good girl. That’s it, sweetheart.” You grit your teeth and buck again, trying to express your displeasure, but Morpheus merely laughs and kisses the base of your spine.

“No need for all of that. I’ll give you what you want.”

When his fingers dip between your parted thighs, you push back, fucking begging him to touch your swollen folds and ease the building ache.

Your moan is exhausted and sweet as he thumbs your clit before playing with the fresh slick on your skin. “Fuck, you’re still so wet. Is that for me, darling?” Dream groans, his breath hitching as you arch a little further, presenting your dripping pussy to him.

The desperation in how hard he tries to make you cry out tells you everything about how tightly wound he is, how close he is to snapping. “Come on. You can admit it.” You keep your mouth stubbornly closed even as the pressure on your clit increases. It’s bad enough that he knows you as well as he does and can play your body like a virtuoso on a violin.

His breaths come in short, almost feral pants. “Silence? We’ll see how long that lasts.” And then- and then- Morpheus pushes the fat head of his cock inside you, going slow enough for your muscles to adjust.

But he’s so fucking big, and it’s been so long since he last fucked you, and your eyes roll back, sweat drips down your neck, and your knees dig into the ground, trying to keep you upright. “Shhhhh. Gods, you’re so fucking tight. Fuck. It’s okay. You’re okay. Feels good, hm?” Inch by inch, he stretches your spasming cunt, and you whine, your hips tilt back, and his thick cock slips against that spot deep inside that makes you sob.

“That’s it, my love,” Morpheus reassures through gritted teeth. “Can you take me a little further?”

You feel your muscles constrict around him like a vice when he grinds himself deeper. “H-how much?” You moan as your juices run down your thighs and coat his cock to the base.

Dream releases your hair before sliding an arm under your breasts to hold you upright without hurting the baby. It takes you a second to trust him and give him the whole of your weight. He balances you between his hips and arms like you’re lighter than air.

He kisses your damp hair and nibbles on your ear. “That much,” He says, showing you another inch or so with his fingers.

Your hand covers his resting above your belly, and your fingers intertwine with his. “…Yeah,” You nod as tears prickle in your eyes. Morpheus is everywhere, inside you, holding you. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him so fucking much.

With a deep breath, you relax and let him carry you. The feeling of his heartbeat thudding through his chest and his hand cupping your breast is a sweet, easy soporific, soothing the sharp, anxiety-ridden knots in your head into something mindless and loving.

He rocks into you slowly until his hips are flush against your ass. “Relax, my love. You’re okay. Gods- you feel- so good, you’re perfect, that’s it, good girl. Perfect girl,” He chants, over and over, as the stretch and the push and pull have you shaking and pleading for more.

“Oh- oh god. Morpheus. Ahhh- I can’t, I’m so full.” Your breathy cries echo over his deep, gravelly moans.

“You’re still so tight even when full of my cock. And my child in your belly? Gods, I love you. I adore you.” Every time he tells you that, your cunt grows wetter.

Morpheus lays into you, fucking you like a man possessed, pressing in as deep as your body will let him. All you can do is rest there in his arms and take it. “I- I’m not going to last. I need you- I need you to come for me. One last time.” You’re not listening when he speaks, too busy bouncing your hips in time with his thrusts and screaming your pleasure out as loud as you can. “Please, darling?” He begs. His free hand returns to your pussy, and his fingers stroke your clit softly.

Your knuckles go white from the force you use to grip his wrist. “Hngh- shit, shit, shit, yes.” The feeling of Dream kissing your cheek sends you over the edge.

Your eyes go wide as the moon, and you hiccup as the force of his cock bullying into your shivering, clenching cunt wipes your mind blank of coherent thoughts. Your spine straightens and your limbs tense. You’re delirious, babbling nonsense, and he keeps working your swollen, hypersensitive clit, now chasing his own release.

Morpheus sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he comes, painting your inner walls white. The warmth relieves some of your soreness from all the orgasms he forced from your tired body. You can feel your combined cum coat your thighs, sticky and viscous.

When you collapse, you don’t hit the forest floor like expected. Instead, you end up in a large, impossibly soft bed, bundled in plush blankets and your head cushioned on fluffy pillows.

Everything hits you at once - the running, the fear, the man dead in your living room.

As you weep into the soft linen under your cheek, Dream curls around you until you don’t know where you end, and he begins. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” His fingers shake as they wipe away your tears and tuck the blankets tighter around your shoulders.

The bedchamber is cool and dark with no shards of light that could irritate your eyes or worsen your building headache from crying so goddamn much.

You cling to him and smush your face into his chest. “Morpheus…’M sorry.” In this strange, fairytale land, the strange god embracing you feels like home.

Something damp trickles down your forehead. “Shhh. Did you think killing that man scared me off?” When you look up, you see tears glimmering on Morpheus’s face like sapphire beads.

“It should have.” You’ve always had darkness in your heart. You might have been born with it, a seed planted by your mother’s hatred and watered by your pain.

But if Desire was telling the truth, Morpheus is as flawed as he is beautiful. That’s oddly comforting.

His mouth tastes like you when he kisses you. “Listen to me, beloved. I have been captured like that once before. I languished in a prison for almost a century. I was forgotten. Abandoned. Starved. All of this around you that I built crumbled into dust. At long last, it was the pity of an old man and my rage that freed me. But you… No one has ever protected me like you did,” He whispers.

Your arms tighten around his waist. You love him, you hate him. Most of all, your heart breaks for the decades he spent alone.

He swallows thickly. “That’s all I ever wanted. For my whole existence. Someone to fight for me.” You wanted that, too.

“And if you had chosen to leave me there, to keep you and our child safe, I would’ve let you. I would have forgiven you. That is how much I love you.” His hand sketched slow, circular patterns across your stomach, never shying from the rolls.

Your lips ghost over his shoulder, sending a shiver through him. You don’t kiss him with forgiveness, not yet. Even though you can’t say it aloud, you want him to know you’re here. He’ll always catch you, no matter where you run, so he won’t ever be alone again.

“Maybe you’ll regret it. That it was me.” You can be just as cruel and monstrous as him; there are other kinder, prettier, gentler, sweeter people. He could be anywhere else right now other than tethered to a canvas of scars with her teeth bared.

He kisses your forehead with his hands, cradling your cheeks like a dragon cradling its hoard. “Do your worst.”

this is the smuttiest thing ive written for this fic yet. hope you guys like this!

[creamypudding]

Siren Songs

Rated E 14 Chapters Tags: Alternate Universe - Pirates, Omega Verse, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Sexual Reproductive Parts, Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling in Love, Fluff and Smut, Marking, Multiple Sexual Partners, Murder, Stillbirth, Uncontrollable Heat, Unplanned Pregnancy, Happy Ending. Summary:

Cloud is a lowly omega, 'serving' aboard a SHINRA naval vessel. Zack is a pirate captain with a two-fold agenda: make life hell for SHINRA and rescue wayward omegas, taking them to safety. Cloud never met anyone who genuinely seemed to care for him or made him feel like he was worth more than what was between his legs. He wishes Zack would stop being so damn respectful. He wishes they could find a way to be together, but he knows the end goal the pirate captain has in mind for him, and he couldn't disagree more with it.

Chapter 1: The Raid

Cloud has a run in with a pirate crew that forever changes the course of his life.

Excerpt:

They found all his cleverest spots; boarded them up, filled them with barrels and ballasts. Cloud’s latest attempt at salvation nets him a permanent home in a cell down in the ship's bowels. Bilge water leaks in and the musty smell is permanently soaked into his hair and absorbed by his pores, even though he keeps out of the water as much as possible. So of course the one thing he is grateful for is the daily chores above deck, heavily-supervised as they are.

He gets to smell the sea breeze as he goes about his duties: reporting on the bilge water situation, cooking meals in the galley, and emptying the chamber pots of the higher ranking officers on the Deliverance.

He does his work without a grumble, hoping the silence will make others forget his existence. Wishful thinking, really. While his freedom is restricted, the crew's access to him has never been more unfettered.

The abuse he faces is almost nightly. The only positive to come out of the intrusions is the news he becomes privy to as he is made to listen to pillow talk.

He learns that the Deliverance will make landfall in a fortnight's time. They will get a new Fleet Maid as Cloud’s too obstinate and his cooking deemed inedible. So Cloud’s time aboard the vessel is coming to an end. This sparks no joy for Cloud. He’s never heard of an omega serving in the SHINRA fleet to ever return from the sea.

Keep read HERE.

[ff6webcomic]

Hello everyone! How are you all doing? ^_^ I came to give you an important update about Final Fantasy VI Webcomic!

You guys may have noticed that we got an unplanned full month break in March, and we didn’t get any new pages for two weeks during June. The gap between chapters 7 and 8 has been longer than chapters 6 and 7 as well. There’s a reason for all of that and I’d like to explain it to you!

FFVI Webcomic came back with full force in May 2020 after some extensive hiatuses. One of the biggest reasons for that strong return was the COVID pandemic. Everyone had to stay at home and a lot of people were short on jobs. With that, there was plenty of time to entirely dedicate myself to the comic. With a steady schedule, more and more patron supporters came along and the comic could continue successfully. Our Patreon has grown a lot over these last three years! However, as the time passed and life returned to normal, new goals and new expectations were beginning to show up in my life once again.

As these three years passed, new opportunities were emerging and I’ve been finding less and less time to work on the comic. Even with a tight agenda, I was always doing my best to have FFVI Webcomic have constant updates because this comic and its readers are really important to me. However, I need to be aware that FFVI Webcomic is a VERY big and VERY ambitious project. We’re talking about 10 years of project and at least 10 more years to be concluded, if we’re lucky lol xD And, as much as I love this comic, I can’t sacrifice other aspects of my life to be able to fulfill the comic’s goal.

So with all of that explained, it is with great sadness that I’m announcing that FFVI Webcomic will now be updated with one page per month instead of the usual one page per week. 

I know, I know… This was not an easy choice to make and my heart even feels heavy as I’m writing this…This was not a sudden choice either, I’ve been considering the idea for a while and had to make an ultimate decision.

I’m IMMENSELY grateful for all the support, comments and positive feedback that you guys give to this comic! If I could use all that hearty energy to fuel my livelihood I would be rich and wouldn’t have any more financial worries xD FFVI Webcomic is my dream project and if I could make it full time, I would, but we live in a capitalist system and that means you gotta make money to pay up your bills.

Does that mean that FFVI Webcomic will continue with one page per month until it reaches its end? Well, not necessarily. Is that same old thing: The more support the comic receives, the more pages are possible to make. We can still increase the release of new pages but, as its current state, making one page per week as it used to be is unfeasible.

Rest assured that FFVI Webcomic will continue, regardless of how small or big the financial support is! You guys have no idea how many scenes like the Phantom Train, Battle for Narshe, Floating Continent, “Searching for friends”, etc are already done in my head! And as long as Square Enix doesn’t give us a FFVI remake, I’ll be making this comic lol 😂 There’s still plans for that physical book as well! And I’m even considering turning FFVI Webcomic into a collaborative project in the future, instead of being a one person team 👀

With that, I thank you all for your understanding and continuous support throughout these years! This is not the end of FFVI Webcomic. It’s just a different path that this project is taking!