#((might need to chill with these drawings- this one took a while))

[averagechuckfan]

Bayverse donnie being in heat and whining to their s/o that he wants cuddles

(I'm really busy, sorry, this one is incredibly short)

Warning → soft (?)

(all mf here are +18 don't start saying shit in the comments)

Since you two became a couple he informed you about this times of the year were he can get ... a bit funny .

So this time that happened so suddenly... You two were sitting, chilling in his lab as he worked on a new invention, his left leg started moving up and down from time to time, like if he was just trying to get more comfortable in his chair, little did you know that he was just trying to calm the hard tent inside his cargo pants. He didn't want to bother you when you're busy reading a book he gave you last week, a book about turtle anatomy since you have a lot of questions but he didn't have the time to answer right now.

He couldn't help it thou, he stood up and rushed towards you, you almost shit yourself and turned your head to face him "what was that?" It took you some time to figure out why he was whining desperately, pulling at your shirt while he was on his knees "cuddles" was the only word you could catch from his babbling. "You want cuddles?" He simply nodded slowly, hiding his snout in the crock of your neck.

Being in this position for to long might hurt him so you thought about moving to his bedroom.You couldn't help but smile, he looks desperate for some love, the poor boy is always overworking himself in the lab, he surely needs some rest "let's go to bed" you whispered softly.

After the two of you find the nicest position to cuddle you start to draw patterns in his shell while he was shaking a bit, if his shell is that sensitive when he was in heat?... What else could be sensitive on him right now?....

Important ↓

I'm so sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted, I've been having a lot of work lately and having my brain so busy with adult shit can make the way I write horrible!!! If you want me to do a part 2 of this one and continue the story let me know in the comments ↓ or you can always send a request for part two (hope i could explain myself here)

[auxmodi]

hi darling, how're you? could I please request shy reader x sandor clegane? he has a soft spot for her and has always been fascinated. maybe a little bit of fluff, angst & smut??? I know you'll do it justice because your writing is just 🤌

hi anon !! i'm doing fine thank you for asking!! i've been busy this week so i'm sorry if this took a little long! AND THANKYOUSMUCH i hope you like it! here it is :

sandor clegane x shy! reader drabble

my masterlist

summary: in the cold war room of winterfell, you sit alone, focused on maps while sandor stumbles in, drunk and amused by your quiet presence. his teasing pushes you into a nervous silence, but he can’t seem to help himself. the more you shy away, the more he lingers, enjoying the way you make him feel like he's the one stirring things up.

word count: 1.1k

tags: drunk sandor, sexual tension, teasing, unspoken feelings, swearing, slightly suggestive themes

the war room was colder than usual, the fire in the hearth doing little to fight off winterfell’s ever-present chill. you sat at the table, pouring over the map jon had assigned to you. logistics, supplies, troop movements, it all needed to be meticulously planned if they had any hope of surviving the dead. you worked quietly, as always, preferring the calm to the chaos outside.

and then the door creaked open, and you heard his heavy, uneven footsteps.

“still at it, girl?” sandor’s voice cut through the silence, rough and hoarse, as if he’d been drinking. when you looked up, you could see the flush on his scarred face, eyes bloodshot and unfocused. he dropped into the chair across from you with a grunt, the wood groaning under his weight. a half-empty tankard clutched tightly in one hand.

“what’s there to look at? it’s the north. just snow, more snow, and a bunch of frozen arses waiting to get fucking eaten by corpses.”

you bit back a small smile, your focus still on the map. this wasn’t new. late nights spent in here, you working, sandor stumbling in with his usual drink in hand, and sitting across from you with that dark humor of his. teasing, pushing you to react.

“you know,” his voice broke the stillness again, “i’ve always liked the quiet.” he leaned back in his chair, creaking under his massive frame, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared off into the room. “like the dead. they don’t whine, don’t bicker. they just stand there and rot. might be the only thing i don’t fucking hate about them.”

you couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped you, and his eyes sharpened, catching the sound.

“ah,” he murmured, his lips pulling into that teasing smirk, “so you do make noise.” he leaned in slightly, his gaze catching yours. “was starting to think you were mute.”

you looked down at the map quickly, trying to hide the flush that was creeping up your neck. it was always the same, him pushing, poking at you just enough to get a reaction. but it wasn’t like you minded. or maybe you did.

"what’re you so focused on, anyway?” he asked, leaning forward with a creak of the chair. “markin’ where to put the chickens?”

you blinked at him, confused. “the… chickens?”

“aye,” he said, deadpan. “gotta feed the army somehow, don’t we? i’d fight better if I knew there was a roasted bird waitin’ for me after.”

you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “i don’t think that’s part of the plan.”

“shame,” he said with a mock sigh. “would’ve been a good plan.” he leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. “better than sittin’ here, thinkin’ about supply routes and waitin’ to freeze to death.”

you shook your head slightly and turned your focus back to the map, hoping he wouldn’t see the heat creeping up your neck. he didn’t miss it, though.

“ah, there it is,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his scarred lips. “the little bird can blush.”

his words made your cheeks burn even hotter, and you ducked your head, pretending to study the map with renewed focus. you could feel his eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he were trying to draw more of a reaction from you.

“you’re too easy to rile up,” he said, his voice softer now but still teasing. “most people’d snap back by now, but you just sit there. quiet as a bloody mouse.”

the words hung in the air, like he was waiting for you to react, to do something, anything. the tension between you thickened, and you felt your heart beating faster than before.

sandor leaned forward then, his massive body making the chair creak under his weight. the air between you seemed to shrink, the space between your eyes and his electric with tension. his smirk deepened, something predatory in the way he watched you.

“i’m not that easy to rile up,” you said, the words coming out steadier than you expected, a challenge hidden underneath.

“you think you’re not?” he rasped, low and slurred. “i’ll figure you out, girl. don’t you worry.”

your breath hitched at the implication, and you looked back down at the map, fingers tracing the edges as though it might steady you.

“i’m just trying to figure out the best supply route,” you murmured, your voice quieter, almost drowned out by the heaviness in the room.

“supply routes,” he repeated, his tone skeptical, almost mocking. “sure, that’s what you’re thinkin’ about. nothin’ else?”

you glanced up then, his eyes piercing into yours. the intensity of his stare made your heart race, and the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“what else would i be thinking about?” you asked, the question softer than you intended, but it carried something else beneath it.

sandor’s smirk widened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the way the tension stretched between you. he leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table, and the space between you closed even further.

“plenty,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, filled with implication. “things that’d keep you warmer than that map, i’d wager.”

your breath caught, but this time you didn’t look away. his words hung in the air, heavy with implication, but instead of shying away, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze with cautious curiosity. “and what would those things be, sandor?”

his eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting you to say anything at all, let alone that. the corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smirk. “what, now you’ve found your tongue?”

you shrugged lightly, though your heart was pounding. “seems fair to ask if you’re going to say things like that.”

he stared at you for a beat, and then a rough laugh escaped him. “you’re full of surprises, little bird,” he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.

and then, with a shift of his weight, he leaned back in his chair, the tension breaking just enough for you to breathe again. but you couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of something still crackling in the air between you both, thick and undeniable.

you wondered how long you could keep pretending like you weren’t both caught in the same tangled web of words, glances, and unspoken things that lingered in the corners of the room.

it was dangerous, this game, but neither of you seemed willing to back away from it.

[mai-col]

Heya! Your artsyle is so cool, and I thought "That looks french" and lo and behold, you're at the gobelins. The french touch really is something in art i guess. Care to share your fav inspirations? I'm a fan of a lot of things, and I don't draw according to most of them, but old ass comics like Thorgal have my heart!

Hey fellow frenchie !

(this might be a long one, do NOT ask me to talk about things I like or do so at your own risk ; now, BUCKLE UP)

As a kid, I also read a lot of old comics (never Thorgal, which is weird for a fantasy nerd, but I'll come back to it later), I absolutely adored Franquin's Gaston Lagaffe (and still do) ; we also had a whole bunch of Astérix and Tintin (classic french kid education ^^).

(this has to be one of my favorite images EVER)

Also, honorable mention to F'murr's "Le Génie des alpages", this page lives rent-free in my head :

Now, FANTASY : then, boom, at 10-ish, I discovered Le Tendre & Loisel's "La Quête de l'Oiseau du Temps", which was WILDLY inappropriate for my age, but I think a lot of illustrators and artists my age have similar stories, and it made a huge impact on me and still allows me to flex to all the old dudes that populate comic festivals in France (but that's a whole other can of worms), soooo I guess things turned out all right.

A few years later, I also got into Dufaux & Rosinski's "La Complainte des landes perdues" (same artist as Thorgal !) and Bourgeon's "Les Compagnons du crépuscule" :

(I have trouble finding pages of La Complainte's OG series because there were a ton of spin-offs, but the first 4 books are a banger, as far as I remember)

Concerning "Les Compagnons du Crépuscule", I first got into Bourgeon's work through "Les Passagers du vent", because if there's one thing I'm just as obsessed with as fantasy, it's SHIPS and adventures at sea [intense look towards Black Sails and The Terror], but LCC left more of an impact on me, I think.

A personal note about La Quête and Les Compagnons du Crépuscule : these comics are OLD and I have complicated feelings about the way they depict their female protagonists. Yes, they're not the absolute worst I've seen, they do have a mind of their own and some cool moments (oh boy is that bar LOW), but eeeeehhhhhh growing up as a girl and going "ah, so THIS is the role I can have in a story that I otherwise like a lot ?" was not... super fun, let's say. (another can of worms for my queer ass to open later)

Fast forward to 2012 and my very first year of art school : I got super obsessed with Cyril Pedrosa because my aunt lent me her copy of "Trois Ombres", which has the disctinction of being the first book that made me cry :

(ooh look, a ship, whoops that was an accidental coherent segway)

Around the same time, I also really got into Mathieu Bablet's "La Belle Mort" because I was right in the middle of my Tekkon Kinkreet (the animated film, not the source comic ; it took me a while to get to it) phase and these backgrounds looked so good :

BUT the biggest thing for me that year was that our comics/narration teacher, Joseph Lacroix, was a huge Mignola fan, and, well, you can guess what happened...

He showed us this :

And boom, brain chemistry altered (@totheredandblack this one's for you 👀)

I also need to show you his own work, because every time I bring him up in french comic festivals, I get a blank stare -

- and he was also a huge influence on me along with Mignola (maaan I wish I could draw battles and skeletons like he does)

Also, let's circle back to Mignola : I love Hellboy like everyone and their mother, but my real soft spot is for his Fafhrd & The Gray Mouser adaptation, which I stumbled upon at the Cité de la bande dessinée's library in Angoulême back in 2013 :

(here, have two pages as a treat, because I couldn't choose between a cool action scene and the page that has a 'who doesn't chill next to their bestie while they're taking a bath' moment)

(we're almost done I swear, I only have two left)

Number 1 : Around 2013-2014, I discovered Jake Wyatt's work (he has a tumblr, @jakewyattriot , but he seems more active on instagram nowadays), and boom, once again, brain chemistry altered.

(just in case not everyone here knows about Necropolis, just LOOK AT THAT)

Number 2 : in 2020-ish, while I was working on Les Songes du roi griffu, I was kinda struggling with mountains, and I remembered an artist my dad had told me about, Cosey ; I still haven't fully read a lot of his books, but his backgrounds are incredible (it's also interesting to see how his line changed over the years, which is actually true for a lot of the artists I mentionned above).

That's it ! @laserbobcat thanks a lot for your question and for giving me an excuse to yap about artists I like 👌

(edit : I forgot to mention it, but I got out of Gobelins in 2018 ; I'm no longer there but I keep the description as a running gag ^^)

[p-seduonym]

The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Ten)

A/N: Writing Constantine, even if it's just notes, was a little tough. If these don't feel very tied together, I'm sorry. I really want to get into Casey's perspective again, I just need to figure out how.

Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18, @moon0goddess

Part One

Part Two

Part 2.5

Interlude

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Gotham Colonial Watch Inquisition Record — Entry #47 Filed by: Deacon Elias Brewster, Gotham Parish Overseer Date: [March 2nd, Year Of Our Lord 1652]

In matter of the unnamed servant girl, of unknown parentage, previously in employ at the Wayne Household, I hereby submit an account of troubling reports and observations.

Several weeks past, Mr. Nathaniel Wayne declared his intent to take the girl to wife. This announcement was made without banns, and no council of elders was consulted beforehand. Furthermore, it was in the wake of the late Madame's passing. He claimed it was a deed of mercy—that her soul might be spared from corruption, her sins cleansed through union with a Godly man.

While some whispered misgivings, the people of Gotham Colony, held in esteem Mr. Wayne’s judgment, for he is a man of land and long-standing. The girl was known to keep to herself, speak in strange ways, and some say the babe in her care spoke her name before they spoke aught else.

The marriage was never seen, though it would be a grand ceremony. That day, she was gone. Mr. Wayne claimed she fled in the night, ungrateful for his kindness.

House servants report they did not see her leave. No shoes or cloak were missing.

One girl claims the white dress—Madame’s wedding garment—was taken from its chest.

Another says the child was found wailing in the upstairs wardrobe, their fingers clutching a veil of lace.

There are stories of scratching beneath the house. Of chill winds though the torches be lit. Of the air turning foul in the nursery.

When I inquired, Mr. Wayne bid me leave. He said I lack faith in redemption.

Yet I fear something buried. I fear the root of sin is not the girl.

— “Though the pit be sealed, the sin within shall rise.” — Ecclesiasticus

—E. Brewster

Field Notes – Constantine

Location: Gotham (Morwen Parish House / Wayne Estate Ruins)

Date: [REDACTED]

Don’t like Gotham. Never did. But when the dead start talking, I listen.

Got a call from Pennyworth—always dry as dust, but knows when to ring the bloody fire bell. Kid named Casey Wayne—descendant—been having episodes. Was seeing a shrink and talked about them. Night terrors. Sleepwalking. Drawings. Seeing dark figures. 

Psychotherapy and hypnotherapy were done. Did nothing– shocker.

Did some digging. Found a journal. 17th century. Written by a servant girl. “Yaya.” No surname. No family. A ghost in the records—except she ain’t. She's anchored.

She saw the dead. Fed the baby. Took the beatings. Then the Master—Nathaniel Wayne—gets all holy and offers her marriage like a pardon.

Convenient, considering his wife, his child, and the governess all died in the same breath. Village probably needed someone to blame.

No one saw a wedding. But everyone felt it. That’s how hauntings start—not with blood, but with silence.

The cellar is still here. A basement now. Old brick. Cold as sin. 

She’s down there, more than likely. Dressed in white. After trying to run.

And now, centuries later, she’s still watching over her babe. Problem is, the babe’s long dead. And Casey Wayne ain’t them.

She’s tethered. Protective. But warped. The kind of spirit that sings lullabies but could drag you into the floorboards.

Need to find what’s keeping her here. Body’s still under the estate, I’d bet my last cigarette. Or worse—part of her is.

Dealing with a ghost here, maybe more, could become a polter, trapped in a feedback loop of fear and mother’s love.

Next steps: — Locate the grave. — Unbind any circle. — Talk to the kid before she makes them hers for good.

One last thing: She didn’t ask to be a witch.

But they made her one anyway.

A/N: I have no idea what to write next, I'll be honest with you. It might be something with Constantine and Casey, but I'm not sure how I'll even format that. But I'll still try to get some work out for y'all.

[edenesth]

The Captain's Favourite

Pairing: captain!Hongjoong x doctor!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

Struggling to steady your laboured breath, you pressed a trembling hand against the stab wound beneath your chest. Blinking rapidly, you attempted to regain clarity in your vision. From what you could discern, it seemed like the injury might not involve a vital organ, offering a glimmer of reassurance.

However, the stark reality hit hard – you were the sole medical professional on board.

You were always the one attending to the health of your fellow crewmates and never the one in need of medical attention. That all changed abruptly during the unexpected ambush launched by a rival pirate crew.

They strategically targeted a crucial member of the crew before escalating the assault further. The rationale was clear – if the ship's only medical personnel was incapacitated, who would attend to the wounded? Save for the captain, you were the next most important person on the vessel.

But the enemy was also aware you were so much more than just a doctor, "There she is, Captain Hongjoong's favourite. Get her," were the chilling words that you heard before feeling the sharp pain of a dagger piercing your abdomen.

The duration of the battle became a haze, with moments of consciousness slipping in and out as you observed, through blurred vision, your crewmates fighting back fiercely to defend your ship and all the treasures within.

The fight finally ended when your captain impaled the rival leader directly in the heart. Hongjoong, visibly exhausted, let out a weary exhale as he dropped his sword, "Take him and go, the rest of you. If you don't wish to join him in the afterlife." He commanded.

The rival pirates hastily moved to remove their leader's lifeless form from your ship without having to be told twice. It took no time for Captain Hongjoong to scan the surroundings anxiously, his heart racing as he searched for you.

"Wh-where is she—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he noticed what seemed to be your boots tucked away in a corner, cleverly concealed behind barrels. The enemy had evidently gone to great lengths to ensure you wouldn't be discovered until it was too late.

Without wasting a moment, he sprinted towards you, pushing all the obstacles out of his way with newfound strength fueled by desperation. His eyes widened, feeling his heart lurch at the sight of the red staining your shirt and your pale complexion.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't you dare leave me!" Hongjoong screamed, gently pulling you into his arms, "Hey, look at me. I'm your captain, and I order you not to close your eyes."

However, no amount of commanding could mend your injuries, and he was acutely aware of that fact. Time blurred as he urgently directed his crew to transport you to the nearest town without delay. Losing you was not an option he was willing to entertain.

Drawing on his experience from observing you tend to injured crewmates countless times, the captain applied pressure and bandaged your wound to minimise the bleeding until you could receive proper medical treatment.

Upon arriving at the closest town, you were swiftly taken to a medical facility, where Hongjoong fought to catch his breath as they gently took you from his arms, "Don't worry, we'll take care of her," He gave the medical staff a firm glare, "You better."

The nurse nodded nervously, motioning for him to wait by the available bench. Everyone in the facility recognised him; it was the very place he had taken you away from many years ago. As a woman, you had been denied the chance to prove yourself despite being an apprentice there.

That changed the day Hongjoong arrived, bloodied and in need of help.

With all the doctors unavailable, you, the only trainee present, seized the opportunity to showcase your skills by treating the pirate captain.

While he rested after you tended to his injury, Hongjoong overheard a conversation between you and your superior. Rather than receiving praise for your competent work, you were berated for not adhering to the rules and taking matters into your own hands.

Enraged by what he heard, he proposed taking you in as the crew doctor. Despite being aware of his pirate status, you agreed because no one had recognised and acknowledged your skills the way he did.

As time passed, you'd grown to harbour feelings for one another. Though neither of you openly admitted to them, the entire crew was well aware of the captain's undeniable affection for you. They often wondered when Hongjoong would muster the courage to confess.

You were used to him always watching out for you; he would go to great lengths, even pretending to be unwell just to stay near you. He'd reprimand other crewmates for inconveniencing you with their minor issues; a total hypocrite himself. It was hard for you to not realise the fact that he was clearly favouring you, especially when everyone aboard has been calling you 'the captain's favourite' since day one.

Except he would always be in denial whenever teased about it, despite his actions proving completely otherwise.

Now, waiting anxiously, he regretted not revealing his feelings sooner. The thought of you potentially dying without knowing his love haunted him. Reflecting on missed opportunities, he questioned why he hadn't uttered those three words earlier. What was holding him back? What was he so afraid of?

After what felt like an eternity, he was finally allowed to see you. Entering the room where you rested, he held his breath until relief flooded over him at the sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. He sat beside you, gently holding your hand to his face and pressing his lips against your palm, "Oh, thank god, you're okay."

Tears streamed down his face silently, oblivious to the fact that you'd awakened to his sobs. You smiled weakly, moving your fingers to wipe his wet cheeks, "Who would've thought? The mighty Captain Hongjoong is crying for me."

His head shot up immediately, a tearful chuckle escaping him and he nodded, "That's right. Do you see the power you have over me?" Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never, "I love you so much, you know that? You mean the world to me."

You nodded, "I love you too, captain. Thought you'd never admit it."

Leaning in, he kissed your lips softly, "I'll tell you I love you every day now if I have to. And I refuse to let anything like this happen again. You're moving to my quarters at once."

If you thought he was joking, you were mistaken. Things were about to change drastically. Consider yourself promoted from crew doctor to the captain's most valuable treasure, as if you weren't already.

Now that we have Prince San, General Seonghwa, and Captain Hongjoong, I'm still contemplating what other roles to assign to the rest of the members.

Anyway, really hope you're all enjoying these imagines. Thanks for reading, and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[b0ne-merchant]

Hi I love love love ur writing<3 I have a request 4 u. Could you do head cannons for UT, UF, and US with S/O who gets really lethargic during their period. I won’t leave bed for days on end when I’m on mine and I’m tired of people calling me lazy for it. I HAVE ENDOMETRIOSIS😭

Yes yes yes!!! I extended this to just be generally about when you're on your period, as it is a classic ask for an x reader blog to include 😁 i gotta cover all the tropes!!!

Undertale!Bros, Underfell!Bros, & Underswap!Bros with an S/O on who's their period

Sans

Sans is honestly super chill about the whole thing (He just likes that it gives you an excuse to stay in bed all day with him).

Just for you, he breaks the metaphorical "in case of emergency" glass and brings out a huge fluffy blanket and fresh pillows that aren't sad and flat.

You might have to fight him for the heating pad. He'll take it from you in his sleep and curl around it like a cat.

Sans will never pass up an opportunity for some sleepy time with you when your period is making you lethargic. He is completely okay with this arrangement.

He has a whole playlist of science documentaries lined up for the days where you don't want to leave your bed.

There were a few nature documentaries in that playlist, but he took them all out when you cried over a gazelle being hunted by a cheetah.

When you want for something, he's already clambering out of bed and telling you to stay put while he gets it.

At one point he leaves the room for a few minutes, and when he comes back there's a tampon in his nasal cavity and he asks you if he did it correctly. This man lives off of being a complete weirdo, but he's your weirdo.

Do NOT bring him with you when you need to buy pads and/or tampons, he will very loudly announce that "babe i think the adult diapers are in the next aisle over."

Despite his little pranks and jokes, Sans is very tender. He'll hold a water glass up for you to drink from when you need it, he knows exactly when you're good to take another ibuprofen, and he'll squeeze you close when a cramp shakes your system. Even if it's natural, he can't stand to see you in pain and knocked out of your usual routine.

Papyrus

Papyrus is just a little squicked out at the thought of you shedding the lining of an organ (any sort of blood gets to him, really), but he is right by your side throughout the entire process.

He uses his healing magic on you when your cramps get bad. Even without the soothing buzz, the way his magic warms his hands against your stomach chases the pain away.

He takes you sleeping more than usual as evidence that you're actually dying. You have to calm him down and assure him it's nothing to worry about.

Very excellent bedside manner. You need some ibuprofen? It's already on the nightstand with a glass of water. Need to cry? He'll let you sob into his scarf and pat your back. Tired? Lay your head on his lap and he'll stroke your hair.

Every day of this retched week, he'll draw you a nice hot bath with a cup of tea to decompress. He'll even stay and wash your hair, if you'd like.

At first, he tries to get you on your feet and exercising, since he read that it's a way to relieve your symptoms.

When he sees you're just too out of it, Papyrus quickly switches his rhythm and instead makes sure you're as comfortable as possible so you can sleep it off.

Kisses are a mandatory step in the healing process, as are words of encouragement.

"YOU AND YOUR UTERUS ARE DOING EXCELLENT, KEEP IT UP!"

Your Papyrus is ever the cheerleader. Just, be prepared for a little bit of shock when you have to tell him that this happens every month.

Fell!Sans (Red)

He's mad he can't squeeze your boobs cause they're tender during your period.

A little blood won't stop him from other activities, however.

Your mood swings are his mood swings. If you get pissed at him, he's getting pissed at you. If you start crying from his attitude, he feels really terrible and gets sad, too.

He might feed into your anger and irritation a little too much. When you start venting about something, he'll pop a piece of (your) chocolate into his mouth and say, "ugh, tell me about it."

The way he complains about your period, you'd think he was bleeding for 5-7 days out of the month, too. Not just about obstructing your sex life, but also for making you feel like shit for its duration. "this is so unfair," Red groans.

He'll shove his face in your stomach and tell your uterus to knock it off.

Red's totally into any odd craving you get while you're on your period. He'll bring up a whole buffet to munch on in bed with you.

He is so happy when you're too sleepy to do anything else, because it's a free ticket for him to sleep with you and claim that he's just trying to be emotionally supportive in this trying time.

I think he'd be a little embarrassed to buy you pads and tampons alone, but by the stars will Red thug it out just for you.

He will expect a little compensation when your period is over for his brave and chivalrous efforts.

Fell!Papyrus (Edge)

"THIS IS DISGUSTING," Edge says as he holds you tightly and massages your abdomen with great care.

He's like, extremely impressed you go through this every month. Nobody he knows could bleed out for five to seven days straight and live. He has a ton of respect for you.

He calls you his warrior for your resilience.

When you get a cramp, he'll cheer you on and tell you to fight it, and to not let it win. When it subsides, he congratulates you on your victory and rewards you with an uncharacteristically soft kiss to your temple.

Though his healing magic is weaker than Papyrus's and Blue's, he will still deploy onto you with the best of his ability. In fact, he starts working a little harder on it just for situations like this.

He thinks it's cute when you get all irritated and moody. Sometimes he purposefully pisses you off just to watch your face get all red.

You're pretty much not allowed to get out of bed or do anything for yourself until you're back to normal. If you need anything, Edge has it covered.

He brings out some tea for you to drink. You didn't even know he liked tea before this. He sternly tells you to not let anyone else in on this secret, for fear that it would make him look soft.

He actually takes some time off from his duties to tend to you. That's how you know he's serious about this.

While he detests the fact that you have to sleep more than usual, he'll dutifully tuck you in tight and make you promise that you'll get your strength up as you rest.

Swap!Sans (Blue)

Blue's terrified when he first learns about periods because he mixes up the menstrual cycle with lycanthropy.

When he realizes that you aren't a bloodthirsty monster of the night, he breathes a very heavy sigh of relief and shakes off the powdered garlic he sprinkled on himself (he also confused a vampire's weakness for a werewolf's).

He has a whole selection of sanitary products for you to peruse. It's like he bought one of everything at the store, and he is way too excited about it.

Blue cries with you when you're having particularly bad cramps. Seeing you in pain activates his inner empath to an excruciating level.

Similar to Papyrus, Blue uses healing magic on you, massaging his fingers into your stomach and giving it little kisses.

He definitely tracks your period so he knows when to stock up on pads and tampons and chocolates for you. You two practically share your period.

When your cycle is off, he only freaks out a little bit.

He's reluctant to let you rest all day, but he'll do it for your sake. He's too energetic to lay in bed with you most of the time, but he will check on you throughout the day just to make sure you haven't died.

Don't be surprised if you wake up from a nap and he's right there, trying to check your pulse.

He does come bearing gifts, however -- a full platter of cut up fruit that he'll feed you by hand. Only the best from nurse Blue for his favorite patient.

Swap!Papyrus (Stretch)

Getting out of Stretch's grasp while you're on your period (and any other time) is a tough ordeal. Just threaten to bleed on him, though, and he'll let you go pretty quickly.

Watching him squirm when you talk about blood is a very amusing activity that you definitely don't abuse.

He's basically built like a really big heating pad. He's warm and comfortable to snuggle up to. Sleeping with him is like cuddling up to a huge pillow.

He has a huge stash of chocolates and sweets that he shares with you. He'll also share some of his "special" chocolates with you if you'd like.

He'll bake you something super chocolatey and unhealthy for these days because you deserve it (and not just because it gives him an excuse to also eat like he's on a tour of Wonka's chocolate factory).

The compliments come out in droves from Stretch during this time. His main priority is to keep your mood stable and happy.

When you tense up from a cramp, he'll start telling you dumb knock knock jokes to distract you from it.

He does the same when you get a little snippy at him from your mood swings. Usually the jokes just make you more irritated, though. He'll apologize with a few kisses (and more candy).

Like his shorter counterparts, Stretch is very happy that he can be lazy with a purpose with you and lay in bed all day. He gets a little smug when he gets to tell Blue that he can't get up because he's tending to his partner.

"i wish you had your period all the time." You shoot him a very dirty look.

[aerkame]

Hi! I hope everything is okay in your life!

Please when you can, no pressure: could you do some platonic headcanons with Sun Wukong from Nezha Reborn? Thank you! ^^

Sorry this took a while to get to! I am feeling like getting back to writing and drawing again though, it used to help me feel better quite a bit and things are calming down in my life now. ❤️

As for NR Wukong? I decided to rewatch the movie again just in case. He's a complicated character, way more complicated than I realized. I'm planning to write for him more often too and that needs a lot of researching on my part. He's not exactly as he makes himself out to be sometimes (you can see who he really is around the scene when he reveals his identity, he drops the silly act and gets serious).

Sun Wukong in Nezha Reborn is very similar to his book counterpart if you pay close attention to his mannerisms and behavior. He's not a good person, but not the absolute worst either. He's a morally grey and cutthroat person who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and he'll definitely say whatever is on his mind.

Wukong's a bit scary when you think about it. He ate another yaoguai, offered a piece of it to the guy who hired that assassin, he can move at speeds almost unseen, throw a dead dragon's body away by the whisker, and he's also a hitman... and yet, you two are somehow friends.

That being said... having a platonic relationship with him is going to be chill, overwhelming, or lively, maybe all three if you're unlucky.

It's not overwhelming for the reasons you might think it is, it's mainly because the dude needs to be in everyone's space. No seriously, when is he not close to someone that's in the same room with him? He'd be pretty clingy, probably hanging around (literally from the ceiling) near you if there's no one else around...he may or may not try to groom you if you have enough hair to do that as well. Just monkey business.

The Monkey King really lives up to his name and he acts like one too. Doing what he wants, going wherever he pleases...even if it's in your own home, he'll show up there eventually for whatever given reason, maybe he's just bored or maybe he's just trying to give you a good spook. What? He's a curious guy, he just wanted to see what his friend's place looks like. Don't ask how he knows where you live.

Oh did he ever mention he's bored and lonely? It's not good for a monkey to be alone for long, so you're gonna have to do for now! (lucky you)

Much like how he dresses, Wukong loves to show off what he has and places he goes. You've never been on a motorcycle before? Well say no more! Ol' Sun is going to show you around the place on his cool bike. It roars too! He's 100% going to make sure he's revving that thing as loud as he can just to scare you and get a reaction. Maybe scare a nearby stranger walking by too.

Probably pulls a few tricks on you here and there just cause. He may or may not have taken your favorite shirt and hid it somewhere up high in the pipes and returned it while you weren't looking just to mess with you.

At the end of the day though, he's not so bad to be around. Just try not to stir up any trouble with yaoguais or shady figures. The old king would rather not get himself involved with any affairs, but he cares, and he'll admit that if something happened to you it'd just be another scar over his heart. He's just so tired...

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[3am-dumbassery]

MC goes to hospital but it's for a specialist appointment

I had a specialist appointment today. Just thinking about how they would react to MC going to the hospital

Tw: GN!MC (no pronouns), hospital mention, healthcare,

this has been in my drafts for like a year

Lucifer

Probably took you to the appointment tbh

You would've had to explain that you needed to go if you were in the devildom at the time

Gets you a treat after. The longer/more invasive the appointment, the bigger the treat lol

Will take you to the chemist after if you need something there

10/10 the most gentlest man

Probably being harassed by his brothers about you the whole time

If you ask, he will probably let you touch his wings. He might wrap you in them if you're nervous and that helps

Mammon

Freaks out when you tell him you need to go to the hospital

Probably runs before you can explain. Goes to Satan or Lucifer to tell them you're dying and to help you

Once you explain, they call him an idiot and he gets very embarrassed, but relieved you aren't dying

Takes you in one of his cars "for comfort"

More anxious than you. Paces about outside and texts every few minutes to check up on you

Sends his crows to look through the windows

Make sure to tell him when you're going into the appointment so he doesn't breakdown when he doesn't get an answer

Buys you a piece of jewellery "for good luck" afterwards (he most likely enchanted it) as well as any medical supplies needed

He got spooked, so he doesn't leave your side for a while after getting home (please cuddle him. It's for your sake, he swears)

Leviathan

Doesn't know what to do with the information

He'll offer to help you talk to Lucifer, but unless you specifically ask him to come with you, he probably wont

If he does come with you, he's got one of those nappy bags but full of entertainment devices

Game consoles, novels, manga, chargers, headphones, everything! He's ready. There are even drawing supplies

No matter how long you wait you won't be bored

Takes you to buy a new game/manga afterwards and offers to hang out and/or have a sleepover when you get home

Asks one of his brothers to get you any medical supplies you need so you can chill

Constantly checking in on you if you decide to go to your room instead

Satan

Pretty standard. Similar to Lucifer

He offers to "talk" to Lucifer about you going to the human realm

Steals Borrows Lucifer's car

Has brought books and headphones for music/audiobooks

Waits patiently. Checks up every half hour on the dot unless you ask him not to

Takes you to your choice of (cat) cafe/bookstore/library after if you feel up to it

If not, he might buy you a book

Makes you tea of your choice when you get home and offers to read to you

Also sends someone else to get medical supplies

This man knows comfort. He will set you up in the comfiest little nest with blankets and books and snacks. And maybe himself if you ask nicely

Asmodeus

The most dramatic reaction ever

I'm talking draped over the furniture like one of those renaissance paintings

Honestly a little bit annoying, but kind of funny and endearing that he cares so much

You will probably have to get Satan or Lucifer to help calm him down and explain

He might also need to go to the hospital after the heart attack you gave him!

Makes you a little care package to take with you. sanitizers, hand cream, wipes, he even tried to give you an overnight pack with a soft dressing gown and slippers

He will come with you if you ask, but he might be a bit clingy and try to come in to the appointment with you (also hospitals are gross)

Makes Mammon or Lucifer chauffeur you

Treats you to one of his famous spa days afterwards

Fluffy cozy movie night in one of your rooms. Can't let that over night bag go to waste!

Beelzebub

Gets a little bit sad that he didn't realise his human was sick

Please explain the situation quickly, he might cry

Once he understands, he asks if you need anything. Very sensible about it all

Gets Belphie to protect/cuddle you while he helps organise things

Makes you some healthy snacks to munch on if you get nervous (makes himself a large amount too, he's very nervous)

Wants to come with you, to protect you

The bestest boi. You have to stop him from carrying you. Even so, he's always just barely touching you in one way or another.

Waits patiently like a puppy for the appointment to be finished

Once you're home, gets Belphie to keep you comfortable while he gets anything else you might need. (Snacks, medicine, etc.)

You're not leaving his side tonight. Prepare to be smothered in cuddles

Belphegor

Was only half awake beforehand, but not anymore. He's never felt more awake

Once he understands the situation, he calms down a bit and gets beel to help him help you

Curls around you like a cat. Tries to get you to take a nap before you go

Will only go if you really want him too. He doesn't want to accidentally fall asleep and become a burden.

Definitely gets Satan to help him "borrow" Lucifer's car

Sends other people to get things while he stays with you like a guard dog.

He stayed awake for a long time, so now you owe him (just thank him and give him cuddles)

Will make the most comfortable little nest for you (and him. And probably Beel too) to sleep in tonight

[astoldbylanii]

Ignorance

dealers!shuriri x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, reader has a kid

-------------- "Is everyone clear on instructions?" Your professor asked from the front of the classroom. There were whispers among the class but ultimately everyone answered yes. Prof. Diggs nodded, giving permission to start the project before he took a seat at his desk. He was your art teacher, as calm and chill as they come. He was one of your favorites considering he wasn't always jumping down his students throats.

As you finally started to get into the flow of your sketch, his phone rang. He picked it up, muttering a few words before he stood from his desk, clearing his throat.

"I have to run down to the front office real quick. Best behavior please, lord knows I don't need miss Mulligan asking about my teaching capabilities. Again." He said, throwing on his suits jacket and tightening his tie. "Until I come back, ask your neighbor for help and if they can't I'll answer your questions when I get back." He instructed, saluting goodbye before he left the room. 

Immediately, the room was filled with chatter. You sighed, throwing down your pencil, your thought process now thrown off.

"What's wrong?" Your friend, Eden asked from beside you. She was already well along with her drawing. It looked like it was going to be of her late brother.

"This finna be hard as hell. You know I don't mess with that hyperrealism shit." You said, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pencil, twirling it around your fingers.

"Well, just draw someone but like, abstract. We're in the second semester, by now Diggs knows your style." She suggested, starting to blend her own piece at some points. You shook your head at her idea.

"Nah, he specifically said he wants it to look like he can touch the person. I don't know, I think I might just settle for a nice D at this point." You shrugged, staring at the circle on your page. You took the paper off, crumbling it in your hands and replaced it with a fresh one. After that you didn't pay any more attention to it, pulling out your own sketchbook instead.

"Shii, I could settle for some good D too." Eden joked, smacking your hand down when you playfully shoved her, laughing too. "I'm not kidding!" She said, glaring at you with an offended look when you continued laughing. She rolled her eyes, going back to her drawing as you went back to your sketch.

Some minutes passed by and you two sat there in silence, surrounded by chatter. You were looking for inspiration in your old works while she was focusing on her new one. You were confused when out the corner of your eye you saw her put down her pencil too. Thinking she might've been done already, you looked over to see it unfinished. But maybe that was the look she was going for. You went to ask about it when she spoke up first.

"Girl, who is that fine ass specimen walking towards us." She asked, gawking over whoever it was. You were sure they couldn't have been that good looking that she had to stop drawing, but you stood corrected when your gaze met Riri's. She had been surveying the room for you, and once the two of you made eye contact she started making her way up the stairs to you. "Wait why she coming up here? And why y'all staring at each other like y'all know each other? Wait, bitch, you know her?"

"Shhh!" You hushed, staring at Riri in shock as start to get closer to where you were seated. Why in the hell why she in your class? Much less in your building? You quickly fixed your shocked face when she stood in front of you, her hands in the pockets of her plain grey nike sweatsuit as she stared down at you. "The fuck is you doing here?" You whispered, looking around for any watching eyes.

"Since when you think it's ok to curse at me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You stayed silent, leaning back in your seat as you mugged her instead of apologizing. She chuckled down at you, obviously a little surprised at your attitude but she didn't mind it, knowing it'd be fixed in no time. "You haven't been answering our texts, mama."

"Yeah, I know." You said, rolling your eyes and going back to your sketchbook. Duh, why tf she staring the obvious like you don't know what you've been doing. You knew exactly what you were doing. Being petty. But ain't no way you was gon watch them sit there and talk to that girl and not react. This was you reacting, and they caused it so they can fix it.

Now you were starting to tick her off. You could tell you were. The way she rolled her tongue against her cheek as she looked down at you. The way her hand clenched up inside of her pocket. The way she softly scoffed under breath when your attention went back to your book. You could tell. It was because you knew how to piss her off. No eye contact, attitude, basically just being disrespectful. She was big on respect.

A hand came between you and your book and before you could stop it, it was snatched from your grasp. Your gaze snapped to her as you stood, trying to reach over the desk to grab the book but to no avail. She kept it out of your reach, using her free hand to grab your own, keeping you in place just from that grip. She leaned her head over your shoulder so her mouth was right by your ear.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're lucky your in class right now. When this class is over you're coming to The Palace. By then I want what ever you got going on fixed." She leaned away from your ear so you were face to face, looking you in the eye. "Or, I will fix it for you. Ok?" She warned, waiting for an answer. You nodded, though you changed to a verbal yes quick after you saw the look on her face. She smirked, pecking your lips before she pulled away. She caught sight of Eden, who's jaw had dropped at the affectionate action. Riri waved, knowing who she was to you before she took her exit, taking the sketchbook with her.

You assumed she took that for assurance that you'd actually show up at The Palace. She knew you rarely went anywhere without it. 

Finally relaxing again with her gone, you slumped in your chair. You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you thought about how the rest of your day was going to go. If God was on your side today, you'd still be able to crawl come tomorrow. But it was Friday. Meaning you didn't have class for the next couple of days meaning both Riri and Shuri were less likely to take pity on you. Damn you fucked up. Why couldn't Riri have came on a Teusday?

"Bitch, you know Riri? Wait never mind, you fuck Riri? I couldn't tell that was her at first but you're with Riri? Wait a minute don't she got a girlfriend? And you bottom too? I knew you was just shit talking all them times you-"

"Eden!" You interrupted her, not enjoying the rant that was soon to come. "Yes, I'm with Riri. Yes she has a girlfriend, I'm with her too. Also no one needs to know about the whole bottom shit, you know? We can just...keep it to ourselves." You admitted, looking around the room for anyone that might've been watching the whole interaction. Why did she have to pull that in front everyone? She could've pulled you outside, texted you. You know what, maybe she did text, you had been ignoring her to be fair.

"We gon circle back to the bottom thing but girl you're with two fuckin drug dealers?!" Eden whisper-shouted but still you shushed her, not exactly fond of the idea of them getting caught. "I am shushing! How did you even manage to- wait how the fuck did she get in here?" She asked, looking around like she felt unsafe now.

"Girl first of all calm down. Acting like someone coming to kidnap your ass. They don't do that type of shit anyway. And that front office call was more than likely her so she could make her way up here. I also heard there was a tour or something today? She proli pretended to be apart of it." You answered, still stressed about what you were going to do after this class. You hoped it felt as long as English usually did, the longer you have to form a plan the better.

"Don't she go to MIT? The hell is she doing on Harvard campus?" Eden asked, but more to herself. For the first time since Riri left, she turned to look at you, seeing the nervous look on your face. "Girl why you shaking in your boots for? You bout to get your doonies beat down goodt. By two people! I'd be clacking my heels."

"I'm not even sure that's what's gon happen for real. That's what's making me nervous." You replied, taking your nail into your mouth to bite. Your best friend shrugged, going back to her painting.

"Well either way if you're not here next week I'll tell your teachers you had some sort of accident. Maybe one about your legs not working." She said, giggling to herself. You looked at her with a fake annoyed face, holding in the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You think you funny, huh?" ---------------- Finally, your last class was over. Usually you'd be happy but unfortunately it did not go by as slow as you had hoped. You had no plan. You'd have to go to The Palace.

"I still can't believe you ain't tell me." Eden said, packing up her bag. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, hearing her sniff like she was crying. You swung your own bag over your shoulder, waiting for her to be finished.

"Girl please. Like you be telling me every person that be dicking you down every two to five business days." You scoffed. Eden paused her actions, lifting her eyes to stare at me.

"You ain't een had to do that." She shook her head, finally fitting that fat ass computer into that small ass bag. She threw her bag on and we started to head to the door. As soon as we turned into the hallway we were face to face with Riri. She had been posted up on the wall checking her watch. Eden looked between the two of us, quickly dismissing herself while wishing me good luck. 

Ri watched her leave before turning back to me, pushing herself off the wall. She was in the same outfit from before, except now her gold chain was untucked, and you could see what shoes she was wearing. They were just some dunks, ones Shuri bought all three of y'all so we could be matching. Coincidently, you happened to be wearing yours too. Riri leaned in closer to me, You thought she was going to greet you with a kiss. At the last minute, she swerved her head, reaching out and pulling my book bag from off your shoulder.

Yeah. Deserved that one.

She pulled your bag over her own shoulder, reaching her hand out to grab yours and smiling when you took it.

"I see ya attitude fixed." She said, using my hand to pull me so I was walking in front of her, then dropping it. "For now anyways."

"How you even here? I'm sure you got classes or something." You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself when you made it outside. It had gotten colder since morning. You'd forgotten to check the weather again and were wearing a short sleeve shirt. It was a little big too, which made it easier for the win to blow through.

"I got my ways. You of all people should know that by now." She answered shortly, giving you just enough for it to pass as an answer. You felt a soft fabric touch your shoulders and looked behind you to see Riri now in a grey shirt, continuing to make sure her hoodie was covering your shoulders.

"Thank you." You smiled, sticking your arms through the sleeves of the sweater. You zipped up the hoodie, leaning into the girl as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, now next to you. She leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"'Course, ma." She muttered, using her free hand to take her phone out. You sunk into her some more. As petty as you had been, you'd miss her. You'd miss them. Of course you did, but you still weren't happy about the girl. You knew, however, there was no competition. Riri and Shuri would never do that to you. It was just the mere fact that they had entertained her. That's the part that bothered you.

You went to turn into the parking lot, only to be pulled in another direction by Riri. You looked up at her confused, but followed her nonetheless. She led you to some field on campus where a group of white guys were hanging. Some throwing a football, others just sitting and talking. She went up to one of the ones that were sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. Your eyes widened, stepping behind her a little as she dropped her arm from around you, using both hands to type on his phone.

"Yo! What the fuck?" He yelled, standing up so his height difference was apparent. Riri was unfazed, continuing to type something on his phone. You looked over her shoulder, only to see her stuck on his cashapp, he was signed out. Obviously she didn't know the boy's password.

"You owe me." She told him, muttering something else under her breath as she turned the phone to him. "5k."

"5- what?!" He gritted his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about.

"I supplied your entire party white boy. That's how much you and your frat bros snorted. Pay up." Riri demanded. One thing you were quick to learn about her, there were three things she didn't play about. One of those being her money. She was gonna get it one way or another and when the boy didn't move you had learned that today it was going to be another. 

You could see Riri getting even more irritated than she already was about the payment being late in the first place. You saw her survey the place one last time before lifting her shirt just little, flashing something. You couldn't see it from behind her but the look on the boy's face told you what it was.

"Ok, damn." The boy agreed, snatching the phone. Riri dropped the end of her shirt, watching as he typed in the information. Soon he turned around the screen to face the two of you, showing that it was sent.

"Good, next time you do a deal with me again, have your money with you. I'm not doing no more after pay with you." She said, not waiting for a reply before she grabbed your hand again and started walking away. 

She led you to a familiar foreign and flashy car, opening the door for you to get in and crawling in after you. You could see Okoye, their right hand women, in the driver's seat through the divider of the front and back of the car. You waved shyly and she smiled at you through the rear view mirror.

"I thought you wanted me to meet you at the club, not pick me up." You expressed with slight confusion in your voice. Riri finished typing some things on her phone, sliding it back into her pocket to give you her undivided attention.

"So now you wanna listen?" She questioned, doing the same tilt with her head that she always did when she was mad. So she was definitely still mad. Okoye voided her eyes of the situation after hearing Riri's words, sliding the divider closed. You looked down at your hands, picking at the fresh polish on your nails. Only looking up when you heard Riri snickering. "Clearly I had some business to handle, figured I'd might as well pick you up too. That way I knew you couldn't avoid us. Not that you could even if I didn't."

You rolled your eyes at her cocky behavior, pulling out your own phone from your pocket. You typed in some things, noticing Riri looking at your screen from her position. Dialing your sister's number, you put it up to your ear waiting for her to pick up. "Hey Bianca!" You greeted once it finally did.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm gonna be running a little late tomorrow night, but I don't want you to be staying up late if you do have something to do." You questioned, feeling slightly guilty to be asking this of her.

"No no, it's fine! He can stay longer, it's no problem." Kylie answered, you could practically hear the smile in her voice. Man she must love kids. Asante had been staying there for a week now. Bianca had practically begged for him to come over and spend some time with his cousins, of course you said yes. She didn't live far from you so it wasn't like he couldn't attend school, and you could seen him whenever you liked. He'd been staying there since Wednesday now.

"Ok, thank you so much! I'll send you guys more money for some food and stuff. Could you please put Asante on the phone?" You asked, deciding against ending this call just to call the 6 year old's iPad. The babysitter agreed, and soon you heard your son's voice.

"Hi mommy!" His preppy voice blared through the phone, making you slightly pull the phone away from your ear in surprise.

"Hey baby." You giggled out, putting the phone against your ear. "Mommy's gonna be a little late coming home tomorrow. Do you think you'll be ok? Bianca's gonna stay with you a little longer."

"Yes! I love Aunty Bey, she bought me a new toy car! Does this mean we can have pizza for dinner?"

"Yes, you can have pizza for dinner." You agreed, laughing at his celebrations over the phone. "Okay, when I take you home you can tell me all about school today. Call me if anything happens, okay? I love you."

"You can tell me about yours too! Love you mommy, bye bye."

"Bye, 'Sante." You sighed, hanging up the phone. You put your phone away, looking at Riri after feeling her eyes on you the whole time. "What?"

"Asante could always come to the house, if you want." She offered, not trying to pressure you. You shook your head, laughing at the suggestion.

"No, thank you. The boy hasn't even met you yet, love." You denied, rubbing your hand over her knee. Riri shrugged, throwing her arm to rest on the back of the seats.

"Who's fault is that?" She taunted, watching as you turned your head away from her. She used her hand to turn your head back to her, wanting you to see that she was serious. "Me and Shuri plan on making you a wife. We aren't going anywhere, y/n. We care about you, which means we care about Asante. But, he's your son, we're not going to pressure you into meeting him. Just know that we want to." She assured. You smiled, pulling her in for a hug which she graciously accepted, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest.

"Thank you."

It's not that you didn't want them to meet Asante, your feelings were growing stronger by the day. You didn't stop they'd ever stop growing, really. You were just worried. You didn't want your son hurt. Emotionally, you didn't want him to get attach only for them to not come home one day, a job gone wrong. Physically, they protected you already, and you knew they would protect him even more. But still, there was always room for human error, and you didn't know if that was a chance you were willing to take. 

You loved them, but you would always love your son more. Who would you be to purposely put him in harms way for your own gain and comfort? Sacrifice was something you were used to when it came to Asante. But isn't that what mothers do? Then again, maybe there was supposed to be a certain balance. One that you didn't have. --------------- The Palace. It was their club, also their headquarters. It was protected and secured by all women bodyguards, Okoye being one of them. It was also where you met them for the first time, but that's neither here nor there.

You, Okoye, and Riri made your way through the entrance, the metal detector going off as you walked through, but no one said anything. Once you were inside, Riri pressed a small kiss to your head, making you turn to look at her questioningly.

"Go find Shuri, baby. I got something to handle real quick but I'll meet with y'all as soon as I'm done." She stated, signaling Okoye to follow her. You pressed a short kiss to her lips, wishing her luck with whatever she had to do. Then, both her and Okoye left your side.

You never felt scared to be alone in their club. You knew for a fact more than half of the guards were watching your every move, knowing they'd probably suffer consequences if anything happened to you under the roof of The Palace. 

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

You did not want to find Shuri. She was more than likely pissed. Just like you knew what made Riri mad, you knew what made Shuri mad. And one thing she hated was being ignored by anyone, and you were no exception.

There was also that fact that she was the harsher one out of the two. Usually, you could always pull one over with Riri. Talking back, rolling your eyes, smacking your lips, the whole nine yards. At least, for a while. After a certain amount of times she'd get mad too. But with Shuri, she'd be mad if she even heard you thinking about talking back.

You weren't scared of her by any means, you knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt you purposefully. Intimidated though? Oh yeah, 100 percent you were shitting your pants. 

But their was no doubt Shuri had been alerted of your arrival and was keeping and eye out for you. So either she knew where your were and was on her way, or she was already here.

You sighed, excepting your fate as you made your way over to the stairs. She usually stayed on the upper two levels as they were more secluded and had some VIP sections. You climbed all the way up to the third level, hoping for some time to prepare yourself before she caught you.

Your hope was crushed when a hand wrapped around your throat, your back being pressed up against the wall behind you harshly. You were going to let out a panicked scream when your eyes met her familiar chocolate ones, a cocky smirk that her and Riri shared spreading across her face.

"My y/n." She greeted with a light smile, letting you catch a glimpse of the gold grills she wore today. You reached up to grab the wrist of the hang currently around your throat. Shuri noticed, loosening her grip just a little with caution. "What a surprise it is to see you here after what I think was-" She pretended to count on her free hand. "Right. Three weeks."

"It was actually two and a half weeks. Unless you rounded-" Your sentence was cut off when she tightened her grip once again, a silent warning that she was not in the mood for your slick comments today.

"Still a smart aleck." She observed. Her eyes trailed down your figure to take in your outfit, Riri's hoodie that was now open had fallen to an off the shoulder look, showcasing the cropped short sleeve you had on. Other than that, you just had on some simple ripped jeans with writing on them. 

Her eyes returned to yours, a certain glint in her eye that made you nervous. Just like Riri had, she leaned in closer so that her lips were right next to your ear as she spoke, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to tell me why you think it is ok to ignore me. To ignore Ri."

Keeping your act up, your turned you head away so she wasn't right next to your ear. Shuri only chuckled at your defiance, taking the opportunity to mark up the now open side of your neck. The hand that was once around your throat moved down so it was on you hip, keeping you pinned against the wall as her lips trailed down, pressing light kisses to your neck that you knew would get harsher soon.

Shuri moved her head so she was in your line of sight again.

"Things haven't changed since you were gone. When I ask you something, you answer." She said, watching as you turned away from her again, crossing your arms. She took your chin in between her thumb and finger, forcing you to look at her. "What happened to my good girl, baby?" She asked, swiping her thumb over your bottom lip. For a second, you almost fell for it. But you snapped yourself out of it, ripping yourself from her grasp and quickly walking away from her before she could react.

You were confused when you didn't hear her footsteps following after you. She could easily catch up as you were still very in her line of sight. But soon your question was answered when Riri appeared out of nowhere, turning a corner and backing into the same position you were just in. Pressed against a wall.

"Such a fucking brat. Walking away when we're talking to you, talking back. What are we gonna do with you?" She asked rhetorically. She gave you a smile, letting her hand come up to pull at one of your hairs that had fallen out of the bun you made. Shuri came to stand next to her and you pressed yourself further into the wall, if that was even possible. Separately, you were willing to pull almost everything. But when the two were finally together, you knew better than to try anything.

Unfortunately, it was too late for anything else. You had to continue. Gots to see it through my boy.

You were gonna 'see it through' alright. ---------------- "Please, I came already." You whined, trying to push Shuri's head away as you came down from your high for the umpteenth time. Riri's hand grabbed yours, pulling them away while she kissed on your neck, trying to calm you down.

"Cum again." Shuri muttered, pressing a wet kiss to your overstimulated clit, chuckling when you jumped from how sensitive you were.

You three had been going at it for what felt like forever. After the whole confrontation, they drove you to their house, teasing you the whole way. Once you did get there, they spared no time getting you to the bed. Since then, it felt like you had done everything under the sun but stop.

Literally, everything. You'd lost count of how many times you'd came, but you knew for a fact it had to be in double digits. You could only imagine how you looked.

Hair frizzy, sweaty, tear stains running down your cheeks, cum around your lips that you were unable to wipe yourself. Riri and Shuri didn't bother to either, quite liking the look on you. You were exhausted, overstimulated, and clinging on to consciousness by a pinky toenail. But they never stopped. There hasn't been a break since you walked through the door. 

At first, you were conflicted. You couldn't tell if you even wanted them to stop. It hurt so bad that it started to feel good. The pain blended in with the pleasure and you couldn't help but ask for more. But when you felt another one of Shuri's digits dip in for another round you knew something had to give.

"Okayyy, I'm sorry. Please." You begged, seeing your vision get cloudy as more tears appeared. Riri's voice came from behind you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck though you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Sorry for what, mama?" She pressed. All that came from you were mumbles of an apology as you still tried to break your hands from her grasp. 

In the moment you weren't in a good position to realize it, but the fact that she could keep you pinned down with just her own strength was making you even more wet than you already were. Shuri realized though, smirking between your legs as she slowed down her pace.

Shuri used her free hand to push herself up from the bed, kissing up your body and over fresh marks until she met your tired eyes. "What are you sorry for?" She repeated, looking down at you with lidded eyes of her own. 

You began to reply but only a groan left you when you felt her purposely angle her fingers at your favorite spot. "Hm?" She mocked, still waiting for an answer.

"M'm sorry for- fuck, sorry for ignoring you." You apologized, your head falling back onto Riri's shoulder as your eyes rolled behind your lids, feeling Shuri speed up once again, targeting that same spot. "Shit, Shuri please."

"Please what, baby?" She teased, tilting her head with a mock of confusion. You whined again, frustrated with her taunting.  

She shared a look over your shoulder with Riri, who released your hands and started to pin down you hips instead. Your hands immediately flew out for something to ground you. The first things you could get your hands on being Shuri's wrist and Riri's hand.

"Do you want her stop or do you want more? You're confusing her baby." Riri added, watching closely at how your brows furrowed and your back arched when she applied the slightest amount of pressure to your abused clit, practically shoving you over the edge.

"Stop! I want her to stop." You mumbled, finally able to get your thoughts together enough to make a complete sentence. Having some pity, Shuri slowly dragged her fingers against your walls while she pulled out, curling them one last time just to see you squirm. 

Just as slow, she brought them to her lips. Feeling both your and Riri's eyes watching her carefully, she decided at the last second that she wanted you to take them instead. She tapped them on your close lips, watching as you opened them to take in her coated digits.

Taking the sight in, she hums, obviously please with your obedience (as it did take a long time to get back). That was all the acknowledgement she gave you before she and Riri made eye contact over your shoulder again, and Riri's hand began to circle your bud again. 

You whimpered, trying to back yourself into the girl to get away from her touch. They both ignored you in their own conversation about what to do with you, Riri keeping you in place while Shuri forced her fingers further down your throat, making you gag.

Suddenly, the feeling of Shuri was ripped from your mouth and replaced with Riri's tongue as they tried to distract you from the feeling of Shuri's slender fingers dipping back into your already sensitive hole. You immediately pulled away, already feeling yourself starting to ache.

"Shuriii." You dragged, watching as the girl lowered between your thighs again. She shushed you, placing a delicate kiss to your thigh, though dangerously close with your entrance.

"Just one more baby, I promise." She soothed, caressing the same thigh she had kissed with her free hand. "Can you do that for us, love?" She spoke softly, taking one of your hands in hers to kiss.

"You've been doing so good for us tonight, pretty girl. We just wanna make you feel good one last time, can you let us do that mama?" Riri coaxed from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach to calm you. Debating, you took Riri's hand in your other one, trying to relax yourself into her. "One more, we promise." She whispered, pressing a sweet kiss right under your ear.

"Okay." You agreed. Your words came out mumbled but they both understood you. Shuri smiled up at you, pressing another kiss to your thigh as a thanks before she joined her fingers that had never stopped moving.

The second her tongue makes contact with your clit your hands are fisting through her hair, pulling around the tight coils on her head.

There are a few more strokes of her tongue before she wraps her lips around your awaiting clit, your slick coating her tongue as she swirls it around your clit just before wrapping her lips around the bud.

Her fingers are buried deep inside of your cunt as she sucks your pulsing bundle of nerves into her mouth. There's a second where she sucks just hard enough to make your vision go white at the same time Riri decides to pinch and rub on the sensitive buds on your chest.

Feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, you let out a load moan when Shuri curls her fingers against your g spot one more time before you let go, clenching the sheets in your hand. Riri whispers sweet praises in your ear, rubbing soothing circles on your hips to calm you down while Shuri fingers you through your high, waiting for your legs to stop shaking before she pulls away, your essence coating both her fingers and lips.

She slipped the drenched fingers between her lips, licking your cum from between her fingers before leaning over your frame to trap Riri's lips in her own, who moaned at the familiar taste of you. Though you were drained, you still manage to keep your hooded eyes open long enough to watch them swapping your cum with each others tongues, eventually swallowing when they had enough.

"Are you ok baby?" Shuri checked, rubbing your side comfortingly. You nodded, sinking into Riri more as she rubbed your thighs. Shuri leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you laugh tiredly, pushing her away. She smiled, leaving you to go get some new sheets, clothes and something to clean you up.

"It wasn't too much, right?" Riri asked softly. Confused by the question, you craned your head to look up at her, not even wanting to attempt to move your bottom half. Riri had already been looking down at you. "I mean, you didn't pass out this time, but still, we didn't overdo it too much?"

"No, Ri," You answered, reaching up with one of your hands to smooth over her cheek. "It felt good, I promise. Even though there was one point where I was fighting for consciousness." You joked and she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "To be fair though, it was supposed to be a punishment so I figured it wouldn't be all love making and soft caressing."

"Yeah, why were you ignoring us in the first place?" She questioned. You shrugged distractedly, running your thumb over her furrowed brow. "y/n, I'm serious." She said, taking your hand from her face and holding it in her's. You let out a dramatic groan. She was ruining the vibes.

"I got mad because y'all were talking to that bitch Ashley." You mumbled, playing with the hand that had took yours. Before she could even respond you continued on, defending your actions. "But I had a right to be mad, I mean y'all went into a whole ass private room with that chick. Without me!"

"Ok, first off, Okoye was in there so we couldn't have done anything, not like we would want to. We only talk to Ashley about business, that conversation wasn't any different. But, if it helps whenever we talk to her again, we'll make sure you're there too." She compromised and you agreed, thanking her. You two continued talking until Shuri returned with a wet cloth, some sheets, and new clothes.

And the night ended with a nice warm bath. Which you fell asleep in. ----------------

You groaned waking up to the sound of your ringtone. You stretched, feeling a certain weight on your chest. Looking down you saw Riri sleeping soundly with one hand up your shirt and on your boob, Shuri spooning her. You smiled at the sight, reaching over to your nightstand for your phone. You wondered how two supposedly high alert dealers hadn't woken up from the sound, but no matter.

"Bianca?" You mumbled, messing with the features on Riri's face. Two big and bag drug lords and yet they looked like puppies in their sleep.

"y/n, when are you coming to get Asante? No rush, because I'd keep him around forever if you'd let me, I just wanna have him packed up and ready to go." Your sister asked, you could hear your nieces and nephews running around in the background. You pulled the phone away from your ear, checking your phone and groaning once you saw how close it was to noon.

"I'll be there at like, one. I still have to shower and everything." You said, rubbing your hand down your face. You and Bianca chatted about some smaller things before she finally hung up, giving you time to get ready. You smiled at the two next to you, leaning down to press a kiss onto both of their lips, even though they weren't awake to respond to it.

You pulled Riri's strong grip off your titty. She was holding on it like a hungry newborn. You replaced yourself with the pillow behind you, slipping out of the bed, only for you to stumble into the nightstand when you did, startling both of them awake. 

The two sprung up from their place as if they weren't just knocked with drool in the corner of their mouths, searching the room frantically until their eyes settled on you, who was currently using the nightstand to stand. They turned to look at each other, holding in their laughs. You glared at them, trying to keep yourself upright so they took your next words serious.

"Both of y'all shut the fuck up and come help me to the bathroom."

"We ain't een say nothing." Riri protested, though she swung her legs to the side, getting up to come help you.

"You ain't need to, your face said enough." You said, holding your hand up for her to help you. Riri disregarded your hand, her small frame bending down to toss you over her shoulder. "Riri!"

"You told me to help you, now you mad I'm helping you. You just acting like this cause we fucked ya lace front off and now you walking like there's an earthquake." 

"Shut the hell up and take me to the damn bathroom, Riri!" You demanded, smacking her back and flipping off Shuri who watched on from her position in the bed, clearly amused. ----------------

BRING BACK SHURI AND RIRI X READER ALL 2024!! I'm jumping into the writing scene because i honestly miss the era where everything was about them, and i miss some of my fav writers😔✊🏾

anyways hope yall enjoyed

thank you guys for the inspiration, whether old fics or new @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed @quintessencewrites @saintwrld @marsolgy @pinkwright @vixentheplanet

[sukuna-ryo]

Jujutsu Kaisen men as...

Soldier, Poet, King

Featuring~ Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Geto Suguru, Kamo Choso, Higuruma Hiromi, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna

Trigger warnings: Explicit Sexual Content. Mentions of wounds, blood and war. MINORS DNI

———

(Part One)

~There will come a soldier

Who carries a mighty sword

He will tear your city down, oh lei oh lai oh Lord

Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord

He will tear your city down, oh lei oh lai oh Lord~

Nanami Kento

The heavy oak door creaked as it opened, letting in a gust of chilled air and a man whose presence seemed to fill the small inn with quiet authority. His uniform was dusted with dirt, the once-pristine fabric now torn and frayed at the edges. Dark circles marred his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken. He looked weary, the weight of exhaustion etched into his sharp features, but his posture remained impeccable—a soldier through and through.

You stood behind the counter, wiping down the wooden surface as you observed the stranger. His blonde hair was disheveled, a streak of dried blood marking his temple. His eyes, dark and calculating, scanned the room before settling on you.

“Good evening,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I’m looking for food and a place to rest for the night.”

You nodded, gesturing toward an empty table near the hearth. The inn was quiet tonight, with only a few travelers occupying the far corner. “Take a seat. I’ll bring you something warm.”

As he moved, his steps were measured—almost too precise, as though any misstep might shatter the composure he worked so hard to maintain. You couldn’t help but notice the way his hand hovered near his side, fingers flexing slightly as if prepared to draw a weapon at any moment.

When you brought over a steaming bowl of stew and a small loaf of bread, he offered a small nod of thanks. Up close, you noticed the faint tremor in his hands as he took the spoon.

“You’re hurt,” you said softly, gesturing to the cut on his temple. With the way he was moving, it seemed he was hiding other injuries as well.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “It’s nothing.”

You decided to take his word for it and leave him alone. There’s no good in getting involved with soldiers—who knows what kind of trouble it might bring? Especially with one wandering alone. He might be a deserter or simply separated from his troop by accident. Anyway, you weren’t taking any chances.

“Suit yourself, then,” you said and walked away.

You brought him some ale in a wooden mug. That should help with the pain and weariness. He once again only gave you a polite thanks without saying more. He seemed like a stoic man of reserved nature. Better than rowdy men who got drunk and made a mess of your inn.

After finishing his dinner, you guided the man upstairs. You took him to a room at the end of the corridor and unlocked the door for him.

“You can take this room. The baths are down the stairs at the back of the inn. Do you need a fresh set of clothes, Mr…?” you asked, turning to face him.

The man was much taller than you. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes. He was looking at you, his gaze almost too intense. You suddenly realized you were standing too close. You took a step back, and your back hit the door. He leaned down, and you were now at eye level. You gasped at the sudden closeness.

“Nanami Kento. Just call me Kento,” he said. He paused, then added, “Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll require some fresh clothes.” He said, while bringing his hand up to yours and taking the key to the room from your hand. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you quickly hid your arm behind your back. In that moment, he stepped aside, and you quickly left, making your way downstairs, unaware that he was still watching your retreating form.

You had the helper boy who worked at your inn bring the clothes to the man. You couldn’t see him again—not after what happened. The moment had been too intense, and you didn’t want to face him again. His words still echoed in your mind: “Just call me Kento,” he had said. His voice was deep and magnetic, and the memory sent heat spreading through your body. You recalled his features, how he looked handsome despite his obvious tiredness. And then there was also the smell of blood. The thought made you worry about him. Clearly, he was hiding more injuries than he let on. And now you couldn’t sit still anymore; you had to patch him up.

You took the medicine box from your pantry and made your way up to his room. You paused in front of his door and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. After a few moments, you knocked. The door opened to reveal the man, hair still wet from the bath and fresh clothes clinging to his washed body. You could now see all his muscles that had been covered in his uniform—muscular arms, a strong chest, and chiseled abs—and the scars. Lots of them. And there they were: fresh wounds across his back and side.

You took some alcohol on a fresh cloth and pressed it against his wound. He hissed, and you mumbled an apology.

As you worked, he stayed silent, watching you with an intensity that made your hands tremble slightly.

“You’re not from around here,” you said, breaking the silence.

“No,” he replied simply.

“Passing through?”

“Something like that,” he murmured, his gaze flickering to the fire from the fireplace in the room. There was a heaviness in his tone, a burden he carried alone.

You applied some cool medicine to his wound, and he flinched slightly but said nothing. “You’re good at this,” he observed.

“I patched up a lot of people wounded from war who came looking for refuge at my inn,” you told him.

He was silent after that, but you could tell he wanted to say something. You finished tending to his wound, bandaging him up in cloth strips.

“There,” you said softly. “That should hold for now.”

He looked at you then, really looked, as though searching for something in your expression. “Thank you,” he said, the words carrying a weight that went beyond the simple gesture.

Then he paused, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. He looked directly into your eyes and then finally spoke, “Are you taken?”

You were caught off guard by the words. It was clear in that moment—the feelings that you were both sharing in this small, cozy room of the inn. His eyes had been following you just as yours had been following him. He was well-mannered, too. He didn’t want to have such feelings towards someone else’s woman. He was nervous about your answer, and you could see that in his eyes.

“No.” you reply and he lets out a breath of relief. He takes your small hand in his large, warm, and calloused ones and asks, “Will you stay with me? Please.”

Oh dear god. You were right. He did bring trouble with him, because with the way he was pleading to you right now, you wanted to give yourself completely to him.

You bring your other hand up to his face and cup his cheek. He closes his eyes, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your hand like some puppy. He brings the hand that was holding yours to his mouth and presses a kiss on the back. Then he looks up at you with those same deep brown eyes that made it seems like you were drowning in them for the nth time that night.

Unable to help yourself, you lean down and press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch. One of his arms circles around your waist, and the other goes to hold the back of your head and neck, his hand entangled in your hair, as he deepens the kiss with a fervor that makes you shudder and squirm.

You are lost in his touch, the warmth of his mouth, and the sweet sensation of his lips and tongue gliding over yours. You softly sigh, and he groans at the honeyed sound. He pulls you closer till there’s no space left between you, and you settle on his lap. He pulls you as you both fall back on the bed, his back on the sheets and you on top of him.

Your lips part, but you don’t move away, your nose brushing his. “Your back is injured,” you softly remind him.

“Its fine.”

“I just patched you up. I saw those wounds; I know it’s not fine,” you scold him.

With a strength you didn’t know his injured body had, he effortlessly flips your position so that now he’s on top of you.

“Better?” he asks with a smirk in his tone. He’s clearly not going to stop.

You shake your head and laugh softly, trailing your arm down his abs, and he shudders. Nanami quickly starts undoing your corset from the front and pulls it off, dropping it down the side of the bed. Your dress follows next. He unclasps your garter and, one by one, peels your stockings off your legs. He hooks his finger in the band of your panties and removes them too.

Now you laid there, all bare underneath him, the sight changing something in him that can’t be undone.

“Beautiful,” he breathes with veneration.

He quickly slips off his own clothes, and is his mouth finds its way back on your body again, trailing hot and hungry kisses from your lips to your neck, then down the valley between your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he reaches your thighs.

He spreads your legs and presses kisses on the inside before gently biting and sucking on the skin. He leaves a few hickeys before slowly, torturously, inching up to your core. You’re an impatient mess at this point.

“Hurry up,” you cry, and he chuckles, the deep sound making you wetter than you already were.

“Patience, honey,” he coos.

Your heart starts racing even more at the nickname. It’s something married couples would use between them. Your eyes widen slightly, and you grow impossibly red. Nanami notices your reaction.

He finally lays his mouth down on your sweet cunt and groans at the taste, his eyes fluttering closed as he lets the feeling sink in. Then his lips are moving against yours, slow at first, before he picks up his speed. You tangle your fingers in his blonde locks while your moans are get louder and louder, and you try to cover your mouth with the back of your other hand. You don’t want the whole inn to know what’s going on in this room.

Nanami’s tongue went from the base of your hole to press up against your clit, before catching it between his teeth and lightly sucking on it. You gasp and shudder at the sensation, followed by a loud moan when he slips a finger inside you.

He keeps eating you out like a man starved, while adding more fingers to stretch you out and prepare you for him. The tension in your core builds up, and you’re close, so close. You moan his name, and he picks up his pace, relentlessly pushing his fingers in and out of you while sucking on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He pushes his finger in deeper and curls them upwards, finding and stimulating that sweet spot inside you, and you come with a loud cry. He keeps doing light kitten licks on your clit, while you ride out your high.

He finally comes back up for air, and the sight sends a new thrill down your spine. His pupils are blown wide with desire, breathing ragged, cheeks flushed, and your wetness glossing his reddened lips and dripping down his chin.

Your eyes lock onto each other, the same desire reflecting back in both your gazes. You both move at the same time, synchronized. Your arms reach around his neck and pull him down to you as your mouths are back on each other. He holds your waist in place with both his hands, and lightly parts your lips to ask, “Are you ready?”

You nod, and he holds your gaze while he slowly pushes into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with a loud moan. He’s big, too big, and the stretch is almost overwhelming. Nanami doesn’t move; he waits until you adjust to him. He watches you, carefully noting each expression for any signs of pain, but he doesn’t find any. He waits till you can form a coherent response and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Ye-yeah. You can move now,” you manage to say.

He sets a slow rhythm at first, helping you stretch out more and get used to the pace. You’re so tight; it’s becoming almost hard for him to control himself. He grunts as he feels your walls closing around him. He’s unknowingly moving faster, and your voices get louder.

He kisses you even though you’re too fucked out to kiss him back while he picks up the pace, setting a fast and steady rhythm. Your arms tighten around his neck. Even in your dazed frenzy, you’re conscious enough to not let you hands go to his back to where his wounds are.

He starts moving deeper and harder, and you’re a babbling, moaning mess. Incoherent words of how good it feels leaving your mouth, and Nanami is loving all of it. He’s loving how much of a mess you are right now and that it’s all because of him. He pulls back out only to thrust himself in deeper and harder, like he can’t bear even a moment of being away from you.

You feel your second orgasm of the night coming fast and hard. Your legs quiver and walls flutter around him as your heart races and you come, white-hot blinding pleasure blacking you out. Nanami’s pace falters, and he follows soon after, cumming inside you and still moving to push his seed deep inside.

As you both come down from your high, breathing ragged, Nanami brushes his hand on your cheek, wiping the tears you didn’t know you shed. He bends down and starts peppering your face with sweet, affectionate kisses. You both look at each other with all the love in the world in your eyes. He lays his head down in the crook of your neck, and you run your hands through his hair. After a while, he raises his head back up to look at you.

“I’ll retire from the army. Will you marry me?” he asks with complete seriousness. There’s no hesitation in his gaze; he’s sure of this. Your face lights up in response.

“Yes,” you chirp. “Yes, of course.”

Nanami smiles at your words too—the first smile you’ve seen on the man all night, and it’s mesmerizing.

“I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you too,” you admit.

He lays his head back down on your neck again and sighs. After a long pause of comfortable silence, you hear his voice again.

“By the way, what’s your name?”

And you laugh.

———

Soldier Nanami Moodboard

...

My first nsfw fic!! It was so mortifying omg 😭😭. I have newfound respect for fanfiction writers.

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs and feedback is appreciated <3

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

(𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

a/n: finally some fluff with our favourite (not dead) mommy <3

warning/s: none.

“Watch the stars with me.” It wasn’t a request nor was it a question. Larissa shifted her eyes from the correspondence she was writing, her hand pausing midway in completing an exceptionally long word. The tip of her fountain pain was then lifted from the paper to prevent it from bleeding further. She looked at you, her face morphing into something more softer.

“Come on. I haven’t been able to watch the stars for a while.” 

The stars looked magnificent tonight, burning bright and littered all over in the dark sky, outshining the moon itself. Truly, it was a sight to see. Perhaps indulging your demand wouldn’t do much harm and she needed a break. An all too well deserved break.

She pushed her seat and stood up without argument, running her palms down her dress to soothe the wrinkles and adjusting her dress. She took the hand you were offering, intertwining her fingers along with yours and allowing the heat to soothe her sore knuckles. She had either been typing or writing too much.

The smile on her lips, one that was too sweet and too tender, made your heart squeeze in your chest. It reminded you of that one time when she unceremoniously dropped a kiss on your forehead after driving her back home. It had been late, and she was tired, a little tipsy, too. It might have been the wine but it made your heart squeeze all the same.

Trailing from behind, hands still connected, she followed you to the balcony of her office where the cold air of the night breeze through tainting her cheeks pink and making her step closer to you. The night was peaceful making up for the chaos that it had been all day, allowing the older woman to decompress.

“Are you okay? Not freezing your tits or something, boss?” You giggled, the chilled air made her cheeks flushed or was it your hand that was still encased with hers? 

You gave her hand another squeeze before letting go, your hesitation was clear, but Larissa was too engrossed admiring the stars to notice. You watched her wrap her arms around herself, rubbing her palms on the sleeves of her dress.

“I’m all right, dear. Thank you for checking. Are you comfortable, yourself?” She said, drawing her eyes from the stars to look at you. You didn’t say a word, instead you shifted closer to her, pressing to her side and dropping your head to her shoulder, carefully so, as if moving too suddenly would scare her away. You hoped that was enough to show her how comfortable you were despite struggling to match her height. You kept your hand mostly to yourself.

Just then you felt her adjusting, levelling her shoulder down to let you rest your head properly without standing on your toes. She would have loved to tease you about it and she probably would next time but tonight, it all felt romantic to even try. Though she wasn’t at all successful at suppressing the goofy grin on her lips. 

She sighed, letting her head fall to yours. 

“The stars are truly beautiful tonight.” Her gaze wandered, looking for any present constellation.

“Indeed they are, boss.” You had your eyes on her, it was a bit difficult with your head position but you could see the underside of her chin and jaw. She’s beautiful and you didn't care about the damn stars.

“Work ended a few hours ago. I’m no longer your boss.” 

“And what else would you like me to call you? Mommy, perhaps?” There was a playful bite in your tone, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the woman. 

“That’s not—that’s…no!” she was fumbling. Unbelievable! Her cheeks were flushing, too cute and too much for your own little heart.

You rubbed your cheek  to her clothed shoulder, your eyes glittering with mirth, “I’m merely teasing, Larissa. Relax, please. Unless…” You wiggled your brows at her, daunting her further.

Larissa knew it was best to ignore your shenanigans, and that’s what she did, she let her silence speak for herself and by the look on your face you accepted your defeat and settled down. 

She let the hum of the forest and night creatures fill in her ears, taking in the uninterrupted silence. Being in your presence eased her thoughts. Nothing was more important beyond this interaction, the little glances shared in between with your cheeky smile never failing to make her feel warm. She wanted to kiss your lips.

Later, you found your hand twitching closer and closer until your pinkies touched. Larissa looked down. She made the move; grabbing your hand. She went back gazing at the sky.

“You missed what could possibly be a shooting star.” She could see you staring at her from the corners of her eyes. 

Your gaze didn’t waver, “I like what I am looking at. And no, I don’t think I’d be needing that wish tonight but thanks for telling me. Did you make a wish though?”

She looked at you, “Yes.”

“What did you wish for?”

“It won’t happen if I tell you."

“That’s silly.”

When the wind blew and you shivered next to her, the older woman followed her instinct to wrap her arms around you from behind without putting much thought into it. It was severely unlike her. She too, was cold, and it was a mistake that she discarded her jacket early on but the feeling of your bare arms against hers was rewardingly good, better even. 

“All good?”

You nuzzled into her, feeling the press of her breasts against your upper back, her hands on your tummy pulling you into her arms, shielding you from the cold. “Yes, definitely all good. Thanks.”

“I can get used to this.” Larissa absentmindedly blurted out, too absorbed by the whole thing happening to give her mind a chance to contemplate her words.

“The cold weather?” With eyes full of mischief you spun around, her hands landing on your hips.

“No, you fool. This–us. I don’t know what we are but I enjoy this. I enjoy holding your hand. I enjoy having you so close to me, how you ogle at my breasts sometimes even if the act alone is too perverse I find myself enjoying the attention. After all, we're just human beings with needs.” 

You pushed yourself up, hand on her chest, “And I would love to supply those needs if you let me.” 

Larissa had a bittersweet smile, touched by the way you said those words while you were looking into her eyes depicting your genuine intent. You didn’t even stutter. You bravely faced her, giving yourself to her and for that, she reached her hand out, sweetly cradling your cheeks  with her gentle palm, her thumb stroking against the cooled skin.

“You know how to expertly sway a woman, don’t you, darling?” She giggled. When did she ever giggle? What is this that you are doing to her? Giggling and blushing…Gosh, Larissa felt like she was two decades younger.

"If I wasn't so small, I would have swept you off of your feet and kissed you, Larissa Weems. The things you do to me are insane. You are driving me insane."

Larissa put a finger under your chin, coaxing you to look up. Her lips were a hair's breadth away, and you couldn't, for the love of God, tear your gaze away. You were quivering with anticipation, dizzy with the closeness of your faces and her warm touch. Her lips were begging to be kissed. 

You took a deep breath, “Fuck the stars.” You surged forward, hand cupping her neck to pull her down. You felt her gasp on your lips. Larissa could as well be freezing her tits in this ungodly cold night, her muscles stiffening but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when she had you like this, so putty in her hands. She could feel the way your pulse jumped as her hand rested quite perfectly above your jugular area. Your hand fisting her clothes seemingly grounding yourself. You looked so tempted. So hungry. It elicited a spark in her belly, her lips curled into a coy grin.

Your hand soon gave up on clutching her dress and cupped her face instead. You kissed her gently, the languid movement of your lips matching the strokes of your thumb on her face. Her fingers in your hair curling and tugging, still with care. The way she held on to your hip had a slice of possessiveness and you welcomed it. Your body succumbed to her as she backed you up the nearest wall, it was cold and you pulled away to curse but it was then swallowed when her lips dove right back.

The pace of the kiss stayed consistent, and the mere seconds felt so much longer, like you had been kissing her for hours yet you wanted more until being out of breath was the only reason you'd pull away. You didn't want to part but that was what happened, you panted as you tried collecting yourself, head tucked under her chin and she held you steadily.

In retrospect, maybe she should have kissed you sooner, maybe she should have aimed for your lips instead of your forehead that night. She knew she badly wanted to but for some reason, and she knew it was for the best, she kissed your forehead and bid you goodnight. She thought about it in her bed; the smell of your shampoo and sweat and the hairspray mingling together creating a distinct scent that made her brain foggy. She saw the smile that stayed on your lips when she looked back before crossing her threshold. She hoped she could have been braver.

"You're thinking out loud." you murmured,

Her gaze fell down, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, something innocently sweet that made your heart flutter, "I was thinking the night of the gala."

A smile creeped on your lips, "When you had too much to drink and I had to drive you home?"

"You insisted on driving me home if I remember correctly, darling."

"I did. You were beautiful that night. I could hardly look away from you if you noticed." 

She did, yes, and she had quite a hard time trying to act so normal about it that was why she drank wine beyond her limit, thanks to you.

"You are too charming for your own good."

"And you are too tall so lean down and kiss me some more."

You both went for another round of kiss, her lips strayed a couple of times, trailing down your neck until her lips were stopped by the collar of your shirt. She didn't insist on going any further and went back to dip her tongue into your mouth. All of this kissing and caressing made you throb.

She was smiling indulgently as she pulled away, forehead to forehead, “I wished for you.” she breathed.

“I fucking knew it!” With a smile so big, you lunged yourself into her as if you weren’t already pressed. Larissa almost stumbled down, lucky you, she regained her footing and held you.

“You are so cheesy.” 

For the remainder of the night you stayed tangled up together, kissing and all. 

Shooting star or not, you knew you’d be hers. That much was clear.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Part 5: Living in the moment

A/N: Let me know if the link works lol. Anyways, enjoy!

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.1k words

Logan and I stood at Vanessa's door, a quiet tension between us as we waited. I could feel the anticipation buzzing in the air, both of us unsure of what the evening might bring. Logan, with his usual calm demeanor, glanced at me, his eyes giving nothing away, while I fiddled with the strap of my purse, trying to keep my own thoughts in check.

After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Vanessa with a bright, welcoming smile. "Hey, you two! Come on in," she greeted, stepping aside to let us in.

"Thanks," I replied, returning her smile as I stepped inside, followed closely by Logan. The warm, cozy atmosphere of Vanessa's apartment instantly made me feel at ease, the familiar scent of vanilla and the soft glow of the lamps creating a relaxing ambiance.

Vanessa closed the door behind us and turned to face us, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I've got everything set up in the living room. Snacks, drinks, and of course, the games. Wade's already here, probably getting into trouble in the kitchen."

I exchanged a glance with Logan, who merely nodded, his expression unreadable as usual. But there was a hint of something in his eyes, something that made me think he wasn't as uninterested in tonight as he let on.

"Sounds perfect," I said, following Vanessa as she led us into the living room, where the night was about to unfold.

The game night was in full swing. The coffee table was covered with a variety of snacks—bowls of chips, popcorn, and candy—and a few bottles of beer and soda were chilling in a bucket of ice. In the center of the table sat a stack of board games, with classics like "Monopoly" and "Scrabble" mixed in with a few party games that promised more laughter than competition.

Wade was already there, lounging on the couch with a beer in hand. He grinned as soon as he saw us. "Well, look who finally decided to join the party! Took you long enough," he teased, taking a swig from his bottle.

"Had to make sure Logan didn't bail," I shot back with a smirk, nudging Logan playfully as we walked further into the room.

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a slight curve to his lips that hinted at amusement. He was clearly trying to downplay his presence, but I could tell he was making an effort to be a part of the group, even if it was just for tonight.

Vanessa gestured to the couch. "Make yourselves comfortable. We'll start with something easy—maybe a little 'Pictionary' to get us warmed up?"

Wade perked up at the suggestion. "Pictionary? Oh, this is going to be good. I've got a talent for drawing inappropriate things," he said with a mischievous grin.

Logan sighed, shaking his head as he settled into one of the armchairs. "Just keep it PG, Wade," he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Vanessa and I exchanged a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "We'll try to keep him in check," I promised Logan, though I knew full well that Wade was going to be his usual unpredictable self.

Vanessa handed out the game supplies—pads of paper, markers, and a timer—before sitting down beside Wade. I took a seat on the couch opposite Logan, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As the game began, the room quickly filled with laughter and playful banter.

Wade was, as expected, in his element. His drawings were ridiculous, exaggerated, and often strayed into the realm of the absurd, but that only made the game more entertaining. Vanessa was competitive, as always, her guesses rapid-fire as she tried to beat the clock. Logan, on the other hand, was more reserved, but I noticed that he was surprisingly good at drawing—his sketches were simple yet effective, and he rarely needed more than a few lines to get his point across.

As the game went on, I found myself getting more comfortable, letting go of the lingering tension from the day. The playful atmosphere was infectious, and even Logan seemed to be relaxing a little, though he still kept a watchful eye on Wade, who was clearly enjoying himself a bit too much.

At one point, Wade drew something so outrageous that Vanessa and I dissolved into fits of laughter, struggling to catch our breath as we tried to make sense of the chaotic lines on the page. Logan, meanwhile, just shook his head, though I caught a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Alright, alright," Vanessa finally gasped, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Let's take a break before Wade completely derails the game."

We all agreed, and I got up to grab more drinks from the kitchen. As I did, I couldn't help but notice the way Logan's gaze followed me, just for a moment, before he turned his attention back to the conversation.

Is he into her? Vanessa wondered, her eyes flicking between the two of us as we laughed over one of Wade's outrageous sketches. Logan's usually so closed off, but around Vi... there's something different about him. Something softer, almost protective.

She watched as Logan reached over to grab a snack, his arm brushing against mine in the process. It was a small thing, barely noticeable, but Vanessa caught the way Logan quickly glanced at me afterward, as if checking to see if I was okay with the brief contact. I didn't seem to mind; in fact, I didn't seem to notice at all, but Logan's reaction wasn't lost on Vanessa.

He's definitely got a soft spot for her, Vanessa mused, trying to suppress a smile. But does Vi see it? Does she even realize how much he cares?

Determined to find out more, Vanessa decided to keep a close eye on the pair for the rest of the night. If there was something there, she was going to uncover it.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and the kind of lighthearted fun that I hadn't realized I needed so much. By the time the last game was put away, and the snacks had been devoured, I felt a sense of contentment that had been missing for a while.

As the night wound down, Wade stretched and yawned dramatically. "Well, folks, this has been a blast, but I think it's time for me to hit the sack. Gotta rest up for tomorrow's mission."

Vanessa smiled, giving him a playful shove. "You mean you're just tired of losing."

Wade feigned offense. "Losing? Me? Never! But I'll let you think that if it helps you sleep at night."

We all shared a laugh as Wade got up, giving us all a mock salute. Vanessa walked him to the bedroom, clearly planning on keeping him for the night.

Logan and I stayed behind in the living room, enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled over us. Logan, nursing the last of his beer, looked at me with a slightly more relaxed expression.

"So, what did you think? Not as bad as you thought, right?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Logan met my gaze, his expression softening. "Not bad," he admitted. "Actually... it was nice. Different."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest at his words. "I'm glad you joined us. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

He didn't say anything, but the look he gave me spoke volumes. There was something in his eyes, something that made my heart skip a beat, but before I could dwell on it, Vanessa returned, clapping her hands together.

"Alright, time to wrap it up. Thanks for coming, guys. This was fun. We should do it again."

Logan and I stood up, and after saying our goodbyes, we headed back to our apartment. The walk was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. It felt... comfortable.

As we reached our door, I turned to Logan, feeling a little hesitant. "So, tomorrow... you still up for that mission with Wade?"

He gave a short nod. "Yeah. I'll be ready."

"Good," I said, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break out. "Get some rest, then. We've got a busy day ahead."

With that, we both went to our rooms, and as I closed my door behind me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what the next day would bring. But for now, I was content, knowing that tonight had been a small step toward something more—something I wasn't quite ready to name but was eager to explore.

I woke up around 7 a.m., the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Last night, Wade mentioned that we had a mission to take down some drug dealers who were using kids to traffic drugs across state lines. Sick fucks, I thought to myself, feeling a surge of anger just thinking about it. 

I got out of bed, stretching my muscles and trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. Today was going to be intense, and I needed to be ready.  

I did my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face to fully wake myself up. I then went to my closet, pulling out my suit. As I zipped it up, I heard the familiar sounds of Logan already awake, making noise in the bathroom. The clatter of the shower turning off and the shuffle of him moving around told me he was getting ready too.

I walked to the kitchen and started making breakfast for both of us, cracking eggs into a pan and setting some bread in the toaster. I’ve mostly taken on the cooking duties since Logan moved in, not that I minded. But it did make me wonder—does Logan even know how to cook? Or has he been living off whatever he can find?

As I was flipping the eggs, I heard the bathroom door open and turned to see Logan stepping out, fully dressed this time. He was wearing his blue and yellow gear, the suit clinging to his muscular frame, highlighting every line of strength and power. It was a far cry from the towel-clad figure I’d gotten used to seeing in the mornings, but it was a welcome change. He looked ready for anything, his expression set in that usual stoic determination.

"Morning," I said, offering him a small smile as I plated up the breakfast.

Logan nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking to the food. "Morning," he replied, his tone gruff but not unfriendly. 

I set the plates on the table and gestured for him to sit down. "Made us some breakfast. Figured we’d need the energy for today."

He looked at the food, then back at me, a hint of appreciation in his eyes. "Thanks," he said, sitting down and picking up his fork. "You didn’t have to, but... it’s appreciated."

I shrugged, sitting down across from him. "No problem. Just curious, though—do you know how to cook?"

Logan paused for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "I can manage the basics. But I guess I’ve gotten used to other people handling that stuff."

I grinned, feeling a bit of pride at being able to contribute something, even if it was just breakfast. "Well, anytime you want to take a turn, feel free. But until then, I’ve got it covered."

He gave a short nod, digging into his food. The two of us ate in comfortable silence, the anticipation of the day ahead hanging in the air but not weighing us down.

Logan and I stood outside Vanessa's apartment, waiting as Wade said his goodbyes. I could hear their voices through the door, a mix of teasing and affection that made me smile. Wade was always over the top, but with Vanessa, there was a sensitivity to him, a side that only she seemed to bring out. Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression as unreadable as ever. But I could tell he was eager to get going, the weight of the mission already settling on his shoulders. I shifted slightly, glancing at the door as it finally opened.

Wade stepped out, a grin plastered on his face as he waved back at Vanessa, who stood in the doorway, giving us all a small wave in return. "Alright, lovebirds, time to go kick ass and take names... and maybe even squeeze in some after-hours fun, if you catch my drift," Wade said with a wicked smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Vanessa rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Just make sure the only thing you’re squeezing is the trigger, Wade," she shot back, her tone playful but with a hint of seriousness.

"And be careful out there," she called after us, her voice laced with concern despite the lightness of the moment.

"Always, sweetheart," Wade replied, blowing her a kiss before turning to us. 

"You two ready?" Logan pushed off the wall, giving a curt nod. "Let’s get this over with," he muttered, already mentally gearing up for what was ahead.

I glanced at Vanessa one last time, giving her a reassuring smile before we turned and headed down the hallway. The mission was on, and there was no turning back now.

The famous yellow taxi was parked outside, idling at the curb like it had been waiting for us all along. As I climbed in, I couldn’t help but wonder—after all this time, is Wade even paying Dopinder to take us to our missions? Or is this just another one of Wade’s never-ending favors? The thought made me chuckle to myself as I slid into the backseat, Logan settling in beside me, looking as serious as ever.

Wade jumped into the front seat with a grin, slapping Dopinder on the shoulder. "Alright, my trusty chariot, let’s get this threesome on the road! And if you get us there fast enough, I might just let you watch the fireworks—if you know what I mean," he quipped with a wink, clearly enjoying himself.

Dopinder shot Wade a nervous smile, glancing back at us through the rearview mirror. "Of course, Mr. Pool. Anything for you and your friends," he replied, a bit of that familiar apprehension in his voice.

I couldn’t help but shake my head with a small smile as we pulled away from the curb, the city blurring past us as we headed toward whatever chaos awaited us. Wade might be impossible, but he was our impossible, and we were ready for whatever came next.

We arrived at the warehouse, the heavy, looming structure casting long shadows in the early morning light. The tension in the air was palpable as we prepared to take down this operation once and for all. Wade, surprisingly focused for once, quickly laid out the plan.

"Alright, here’s the deal," Wade said, his tone serious but still tinged with his usual irreverence. "Vi, you’re on distraction duty. Flash those powers of yours around, make a scene, and draw the assholes out. Logan, you’re the muscle—cut through anyone who gets in our way. I’ll handle the rest. And by 'rest,' I mean the fun part where I get to blow things up."

He grinned, clearly eager to get started. "Remember, kids—keep it clean, keep it mean, and don’t let those bastards get away. We’re here to send a message."

We all nodded in agreement, the gravity of the mission settling over us. With one last look at each other, we moved toward the warehouse entrance, ready to take down the operation. The doors creaked open as we stepped inside, the dim lighting revealing a maze of crates and machinery. The sound of distant voices echoed through the space, and we knew we were getting close.

It was time to do what we did best. No turning back now.

The moment we stepped inside, the warehouse was a flurry of motion. Shadows moved in the dim light, and the echo of distant voices quickly turned into shouts of alarm as they realized they were under attack.

Wade, always the first to dive into chaos, leaped forward with a manic grin on his face. "Showtime!" he yelled, pulling out his katanas and slicing through the nearest thug with a quick, practiced motion. Blood splattered across the concrete floor as he twirled, dispatching another goon with a swift kick to the chest.

Logan wasted no time either, his claws extending with a metallic *SNIKT* as he charged into the fray. He was a force of nature, tearing through the men with brutal efficiency. One tried to get the drop on him from behind, but Logan whirled around, slashing his claws across the man’s chest, sending him crumpling to the ground.

I focused my energy, feeling the familiar surge of power course through me. With a flick of my wrist, I sent a telekinetic wave crashing into a group of men who had tried to circle around us. They flew backward, slamming into crates and walls, their weapons scattering across the floor.

"Is that all you’ve got?" I taunted, my voice echoing through the warehouse. I raised my hands, using my powers to lift a pile of crates and hurl them at another group of thugs who were trying to regroup. The crates smashed into them, knocking them to the ground with bone-crunching force.

One of the men, a burly guy with a scar running down his face, lunged at Logan with a crowbar. Logan barely flinched as he caught the man’s arm mid-swing, twisting it until the crowbar clattered to the floor. With a low growl, Logan drove his claws into the man’s abdomen, pulling them out in one smooth motion as the man collapsed at his feet.

Wade, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. He was surrounded by a half-dozen goons, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He ducked and weaved between them, slashing with his swords and firing off shots from his pistols in between. "Come on, boys! Who’s next? I’ve got plenty of love to go around!" he cackled, slicing through another thug’s knee, sending him screaming to the ground.

In the midst of the chaos, I spotted the leader of the operation—a tall, lean man with a cold, calculating look in his eyes. He was barking orders, trying to rally his men, but it was clear he knew the fight was already lost. I locked eyes with him and started toward him, using my powers to send anyone in my path flying out of the way.

The leader tried to pull a gun on me, but I was faster. I used my telekinesis to wrench the weapon from his hand, then sent a blast of energy that knocked him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, and before he could even think about getting up, Logan was there, claws at the ready.

"End of the line," Logan growled, his eyes locked on the man’s. 

The leader paled, his bravado evaporating as he realized there was no escape.

"Please… I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything!" he stammered, his eyes darting between Logan and me.

"Too late for that," Logan snarled, but I stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm.

"Let’s hear what he has to say," I said, my voice cold and commanding. Logan hesitated for a moment, then nodded, retracting his claws.

The leader scrambled to his knees, fear written all over his face.

"It was just a job… we were supposed to move the shipment tonight… that’s all I know, I swear!" he babbled, his voice trembling.

Wade sauntered over, wiping blood off one of his katanas with a rag he’d found. 

"Well, that’s not very helpful," he said, his tone mocking. "I was hoping for something a bit more… explosive."

I narrowed my eyes at the leader. "Who hired you?"

"I-I don’t know his name… just that he’s high up in the cartel. We get our orders through a middleman. Please, I’m telling you the truth!"

Before we could press him further, a loud crack echoed through the warehouse. The leader’s eyes went wide, and he slumped forward, a bullet hole in the back of his head. I spun around, searching for the source of the shot, but whoever had pulled the trigger was long gone.

"Shit," Logan muttered, glaring at the leader’s lifeless body. "Someone didn’t want him talking."

"Yeah, no kidding," Wade said, sheathing his katanas. "Guess we’ll have to find our answers elsewhere."

I let out a frustrated sigh, but there was no time to dwell on it. We had taken down the operation, but the bigger threat was still out there.

"Let’s clean up here and get out," I said, my mind already racing with the possibilities. This was far from over.

After securing the warehouse and making sure there were no loose ends, we gathered outside, waiting for Dopinder to pick us up. The adrenaline was still pumping, but the weight of what had just happened settled in. The mission had been successful, but there were still too many unanswered questions.

Logan leaned against the wall, his usual stoic expression back in place, while Wade fidgeted impatiently, clearly eager to get back and brag about our exploits. I stood quietly, my thoughts still lingering on the leader’s last moments and the bullet that had ended him.

Finally, the familiar yellow taxi pulled up, and Dopinder waved at us from the driver’s seat, his usual nervous smile in place. We piled into the car, the exhaustion of the day starting to take its toll as we settled into the seats.

The ride back was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the warehouse. Even Wade seemed content to sit in silence, his earlier energy fading as the reality of what we’d done sunk in. Logan stared out the window, lost in his own thoughts, while I tried to process everything that had happened.

When we finally arrived home, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a pale light over the city. We climbed out of the taxi, and Wade slapped Dopinder on the back with a tired grin. "Another mission accomplished, my friend. Take the rest of the day off—you’ve earned it."

Dopinder nodded, giving us a small wave before driving off, leaving us standing outside our building. Wade lingered for a moment, giving us both a sly grin. 

"Well, kiddos, it's been fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do—or maybe do everything I would do. You know, whatever keeps things interesting."

With that, Wade turned on his heel and headed toward Vanessa’s apartment, already pulling out his phone, no doubt ready to relay the night’s events with his usual flair. Logan and I exchanged a brief glance, both too exhausted to say much. Without a word, we turned and made our way to our apartment. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving only the heavy weight of fatigue.

The silence between us was comfortable, a shared understanding that, for now, there wasn’t much left to say. We’d faced down another mission, come out the other side, and now, all that was left was to find some rest before whatever came next.

A few days had passed since the mission at the warehouse, and life had settled into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm with Logan. We’d fallen into a routine—quiet mornings where we’d make breakfast together, evenings spent watching old movies, and the occasional mission with Wade that kept things interesting. 

Logan had turned out to be a more considerate roommate than I’d expected. He wasn’t exactly talkative, but there was something reassuring about his presence, the way he filled the silence without making it awkward. We’d watch films together, mostly old classics or the occasional action flick, and though he rarely commented, I could tell he enjoyed the downtime.

What Logan didn’t know was that I’d been helping him sleep better. His nightmares were still a problem, but I’d been using my powers to calm his mind at night, easing him into a deeper, more restful sleep. He hadn’t noticed, or at least he hadn’t mentioned it, but I could see the difference in how he carried himself during the day—less tension, fewer dark circles under his eyes.

And then there were the missions with Wade, which provided a welcome distraction from the quiet routine. Wade was always the same—chaotic, unpredictable, but oddly dependable when it counted. He’d drag us into all sorts of crazy situations, but we always managed to get through it together. Each mission was a reminder of the strange but unbreakable bond we’d formed over time.

Life with Logan was different from anything I’d experienced before. There was no drama, no unnecessary complications—just a simple, steady companionship that made the days feel a little less lonely. And though I’d never admit it, I found myself looking forward to the moments we spent together, even the quiet ones. as the days passed I spent less and less time thinking about Adam. 

For now, things were fine—better than fine, actually. But a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last, and what might happen when the peace was inevitably disrupted. Until then, I was content to enjoy the calm before the next storm.

Part 6: Gem Bracelet

[jusst-you-race]

Britcedes + 7./46. for the kiss prompts?❤️

hi i'm so sorry it took me this long to get around to it!!! hope you enjoy <3 i had a lot of fun writing this one!!! from these prompts

a kiss to shut them up + a kiss out of jealousy

George actively focuses on relaxing his hand, worried slightly for the delicate glass of the champagne flute he’s currently holding. The woman talking to Lewis laughs again– no, giggles and puts her hand deliberately on his arm. Again. George takes a deep breath.

“George you’re basically glaring at this poor lady, chill out,” Alex says from beside him.

“Well if you hadn’t noticed, she’s flirting pretty blatantly with my boyfriend.”

Alex scoffs at him and George grimaces as he realises how that had sounded.

“I didn’t realise you were so possessive, Georgie.”

“You don’t know what it’s like at these events. Someone is always flirting with him, trying to get his attention. It’s like they just forget he is openly in a relationship.”

Alex hums sympathetically beside him. George flexes his fingers around his glass again. 

It doesn’t help that Lewis is so effortlessly charming. George knows his boyfriend is being nothing but polite to this lady but George has been on the receiving end of Lewis’ ‘polite’ many times and he doesn’t blame the woman for feeling like she might have a chance. George huffs.

“Oh my god, George. Stamp your foot too while you’re at it, why don’t you…”

He pointedly ignores Alex.

The woman very unsubtly fiddles with the neckline of her dress, trying to draw Lewis’ attention, and George rolls his eyes. She’s clearly barely listening to whatever Lewis is saying to her — which based on the spark in Lewis’ eyes is probably something to do with the environment — and George takes another deep breath to cool the simmer of spite low in his stomach. 

“She’s not even listening to what he’s saying.” George says it under his breath, but Alex hears him anyway.

“Oh and of course you would listen to everything he says.”

“I would, actually.” George tries his hardest not to sound petulant. He’s failing pretty miserably. “He’s my boyfriend and I like listening to what he has to say.”

Before Alex can give him any more grief the woman puts her hand on Lewis’ arm again, this time lingering for just a second longer than necessary, and George snaps.

“Hold my champagne.”

Alex just laughs at him as he marches across the room.

Lewis is mid sentence by the time George reaches him, but George simply does not care. He drapes himself over Lewis' side and kisses him on the mouth, intentionally a little too indecently. He pulls back slowly, enjoying the slightly dazed look in Lewis' eyes as he brings his arm up to wrap around George’s lower back instinctively. 

“Hello, gorgeous. What was that for?” Lewis is giving him a dopey grin and George all but preens under the attention.

“Missed you,” he murmurs before, in an exaggerated display, he turns to the woman as if he’s just realised she’s there. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Was I interrupting?”

A sick sense of satisfaction curls in George’s gut at the look of shock and embarrassment on her face. Lewis gives George a squeeze before he too turns back to her.

“I was just talking about biofuels with… Oh goddess this is embarrassing of me, I’ve forgotten your name! I’m so sorry.”

George cannot help his shark-like grin. The woman smiles flatly.

“It’s Beth.”

George extends a hand.

“Beth, lovely to meet you.”

She shakes it reluctantly, then looks somewhere over his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was lovely talking, but I think I see my friend in need of rescuing over there. Nice meeting you both.” And with that, Beth disappears into the crowd. 

Smug, George turns to look at Lewis, who’s watching him knowingly.

“You don’t have to be so mean, George.” There’s a smile tugging at the corner of Lewis’ lip as he says it though, so George knows he isn’t really in trouble. He shrugs coquettishly. 

“She was out of line. You’re mine.”

Lewis grins and tugs him in closer with the arm around his waist.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous.”

He pulls George into a kiss, and George finally feels content. 

[munixverse]

…about the Fredrick ask thing, how about godhead and scared desperately trying to ignore feelings about eachother while literally everyone else can hear their thoughts? Like, literal desperate crushing and everyone else is like “oh my god, pack it up dammnit”

I'm so happy to know other people see the vision for these two, they have a fun relationship potential

Might have gotten a biiit carried away with that one though...considering I wrote 6k words

Thanks to that one fluffy romance Playlist on Spotify, it was the perfect thing to listen to for this. I've never written anything so fluffy before.

Without further ado, enjoy!

That’s nice, Godhead thought. Just…sitting in the living room. In the closest thing there was to silence. Which meant that he could still hear all of his roommate's thoughts, but still. The apocalypse and the weeks after had been…hectic, to say the least. Of course, this was to be expected, but what they had affectionately called “The Frederic household” had a proficiency in chaos that was above the average, even for a post-Visitor world.

Which is why he appreciated moments like this even more. Peace, quiet, calm and the feeling of Scared's tentacles wrapped around his arm.

His mind having wandered off to the idea, he turned to look at the painting next to him.

Scared was holding a comic book in one tentacle, while another was drawing. He seemed to be attempting to replicate a certain pose the character in the book was in, with his own artstyle.

All that, while two tentacles were wrapped around Godhead's arm.

The Freds were all pretty touchy with one another. Godhead wasn't quite sure why, though he remembered Scared theorizing it might be because they all used to be parts of the same person.

Scared was probably the one who would initiate physical contact the most, though. Out of a desire for reassurance and comfort, it seemed the smaller Fred would always wrap his tentacles around whoever was closest to him.

And that often happened to be Godhead himself.

It wasn't like he was complaining. It was always pleasant, being in Scared's company.

Despite his tendency to freak out over nothing, he could be relatively chill at times, especially compared to the other Freds.

Godhead took a closer look at him.

His whole focus was on the drawing in the comic book, and on the sheet of paper he was trying to replicate the drawing on. Scared would usually have a few eyes looking around the room he was in, alert to any threats.

But not now. Right now, he was focused on one task, and one task only, not preoccupied by the world around him.

He felt safe.

That…really warmed Godhead's heart, for some reason.

Things just… felt good. Which was a weird thing to say, considering he was a painted abomination who was also a fragment of a man's psyche, but it was true. Right here, on this couch, Scared wrapped around his arm, the sounds of the other Fred's thoughts being audible, but not overwhelming, he felt at peace. He didn't even feel the need to take out a blunt to smoke, and if you knew Godhead, that was saying something.

A grunt of frustration came out of Scared.

A line that hadn't come out right, from what Godhead could guess.

An exasperated sigh, and Scared let the comic book flop onto the table in front of them and dropped the pen too.

He leaned back, letting his whole body rest against Godhead's, a small annoyed pout on his face.

“Ugh…Can't even draw a straight line with those…”

He stared down at his tentacles. Godhead knew he had been lucky on that part. While most of the Freds had hands, he was one of the few to have been given actual five fingered hands, even if they bore mouths and eyes. Most of the other Freds had ended up with four and three fingers.

Bitey and Scared hadn't gotten so lucky, however. Not even anything resembling hands, just toothy tendrils for the former and tentacles for the latter. It certainly didn't make drawing easy.

“I should just give up…” Scared whined, in that all-too familiar tone that artists had when self-deprecating their artwork.

“What? No. Your drawings are awesome, dude.” Godhead affirmed.

Scared leaned more into Godhead, dozens of eyes peering up at him.

“You're just saying to make me feel better, aren't you?”

He sounded a little dejected.

“Nah. If I thought it wasn't good, I'd just give you some advice. You should know that, you can literally read my thoughts.”

“Hmm…It's just…” Scared reached a tentacle to take a pile of drawings he had left on the table. “All of those drawings…they would all look better if I was someone with actual hands. And not…this.” The tentacles that he had wrapped around Godhead's arm tightened. Not too much to be painful, of course, but enough to be noticeable.

Scared looked through his drawings, all detailed sketches of characters in complex positions, with bold lineart and a sharp use of shadow. Some even had a background, each of them filled to the brim with details. His style was rather close to that of superhero comics.

One thing Godhead was sure of, was that it was Scared's artsyle, and that it all was incredible.

“Okay, I'm not letting you spit out anymore bullshit.” He interrupted Scared.

“W-What?”

“Scares. Your drawings are great.”

“But-”

“They are. And only you can do them. I know I couldn't draw anything like that.”

“Godhead! You're not gonna start depreciate your art, are you?! “ Scared's eyes reflected a mix of indignation and worry.

“No, that's not what I'm saying. It's just that…it's your art, you know. It's uniquely yours, and no one can do it like you do.”

Uh. He wasn't usually that good at motivational speeches.

He saw Scared's eyes turn to his tentacles.

Freak freak can't do it right can't draw right anymore an actual person would do it better than me

Nah. He wasn't letting him continuing with that train of thought.

Gently, as to not startle him, he took the tentacles Scared was staring at in his hands. Scared, slightly surprised, stared up at him.

“No one can do it better than you, Scaredy-cat. It's your art. No one can do your art better than you do.”

Damn. He was surprisingly sincere.

“But…”

“And so what if you have tentacles instead of hands? It's your art. And your art was made using your tentacles. And it's great.”

Scared's eyes took on a soft glint.

Through their shared thoughts, Godhead could sense gratefulness, hope, still a smidge of doubt and…well, whatever that was, it went by too quickly for him to distinguish what it was.

“Since when were you good at this kind of stuff? “

“Honestly? No clue.”

For a few seconds, both stared at each other's eyes, Scared looking up at Godhead and Godhead looking down at Scared, before Godhead let Scared's tentacles out of his hands, feeling slight regret after doing so.

Scared's tentacle was still wrapped against his arm, and he simply put his piles of drawings back down, before leaning back against Godhead.

“I still think I'm gonna wait a while before trying that again. Don't want the frustration to get to me.”

“Oh yeah, man, of course. Plus, trying and failing obstinately is Toxic's thing, not yours.”

Godhead heard an insult directed at him through the mind link, but he couldn't care less. Looking at Scared, he saw him snicker, a tentacle in front of his mouths to slightly muffle the sound.

God, he looks adorable.

Uh. Well that was certainly a thought.

Scared didn't seem to have heard it, judging from his lack of reaction, and instead snuggled closer against Godhead, mentally asking him if he was fine with him doing that. Godhead answered yes without a second thought.

Now, Scared was talking to him. Rambling about the plot and the artstyle of a comic he read, explaining how he wanted to incorporate those elements in his own work.

And Godhead was listening. Really attentively. At the same time, his mind noticed a few things.

He was really liking this.

He was really feeling good about talking to Scared, hearing him ramble on, having his tentacles wrapped around him while he rested on his lap.

It kinda reminded him of that time in high school where he-

Oh.

That was what this was.

Welp. This was gonna be one hell of a thing to figure out.

For now, he just ignored his own mind in favor of the wonderful person in his lap.

Oh, this whole thing really wasn't gonna be easy.

______________

“Please, Shadow.” Scared flopped to the floor beneath him. “Pleeeeease. Just put me to sleep so they can't hear. Please.”

Scared was very much begging by now, but was nevertheless still met by a shake of Shadow's head.

“I'm not putting you to sleep just so they can't hear you thinking about your crush…That won't change anything anyway…What do you think will happen when you wake up?”

“I dunno!” Scared's tentacles coiled around himself. “I just want something to make sure he doesn't find out and to stop bothering everyone!”

Shadow raised a non-existent eyebrow.

“Aren't you the one that keeps going on about how important…” Shadow made air quotes with his claws. “...communication is?”

“Th…That's not the same thing! “

Shadow looked seriously unimpressed.

“Come on Scared, “ Bitey said, in a corner of the room, to avoid any biting. He hadn't taken any of his tranquilizers today. “He's bound to find out eventually, and I really think you're worrying too much about this.”

“OF COURSE I'M WORRYING! THAT'S WHAT I'M ALL ABOUT!” Scared screamed out, in muffled despair. “And he's probably not interested in romance anyway…not with someone like me. And…I dunno, he's gonna be weirded out by me liking him, right?”

Bitey side-eyed him.

“Fred.” Scared's attention was immediately onto Bitey. While they all had their own names, there was something about the name Frederic that immediately drew their focus in.

“That's Godhead we're talking about. Even if, and I mean if, he was weirded out, he wouldn't care all that much.”

Bitey tried to put on a reassuring smile.

“Don't worry about this.” He stopped when Scared glared at him. “Don't worry about this too much.”

Scared let out a despaired whine.

“Ugh…Feelings suck.”

_____________________

Don't think about how Scared is really adorable and cute and how you love when he wraps his tentacles around you and how he makes you feel better about being vulnerable and how he makes you feel like you're not a freak and-

“Oh my god, will you shut the fuck up!?”

Toxic snarled.

Welp. Guess he hadn't done a good job at not thinking about it.

“Can't really help it, man. I'm just thinking.”

“Oh, are you now?” Toxic replied snarkily, putting a band of wooly white fabric next to Godhead’s arm. He was doing all that while on top of a small step ladder, because, despite Godhead sitting down, it was much easier to work this way, considering their difference in size.

Godhead didn't really have it in him to come up with a witty response for that, just looking away from Toxic, while he extended his arm to let him do his thing.

“Well, look at that, you're shutting up for once. Guess that shit's really messing with you, heh?” Toxic continued, trying to see if the fabric would fit Godhead.

“Uhm…Not that one.” He muttered under his breath, picking another one up.

“You being an ass isn't exactly helping, but you know…”

“Yeah, sure, blame it on good ol’Toxic and not on you being a moron, suuure.”

Toxic stretched another piece of fabric, this one a more sparkly gold, and put it next to Godhead's arm once more.

“What am I even being moronic about?” He blurted out. He really wasn't used to not having the upper hand during his little bickering sessions with Toxic. He usually managed to keep his cool, while Toxic was just too easy to rile up.

“Just tell him, dumbass. He probably knows already and is just being patient with your brainless self.”

“Ehhh, could do better.” Toxic muttered, putting the gold fabric back down.

“I'm not taking any relationship advice from the guy who's been in a situationship with Mutt for the past five months.”

Toxic, who had been searching for another piece of fabric to try, stopped to slowly turn his gaze toward Godhead.

“You wanna repeat that again?”

“I said what I said. Your situationship with Mutt is-”

His sentence was cut short when Toxic pulled a large, very feathery scarf out from his pile of unfinished projects, and proceeded to practically shove it into the mouth of the face that was on his left hand.

The sensation was felt all throughout his body, despite it only directly concerning one face. He coughed, the face in question spitting out some bright blue feathers as Toxic mercifully removed the clothing item from its mouth.

“Ack-What the fuck, dude-” He managed between coughs.

“Soooo…you were saying?” Toxic said, in a sickly-sweet voice he usually reserved for particularly unpleasant customers.

Godhead would usually fight back much more against that, but was too preoccupied to do so.

“Ugh…I can't tell him man. Plus, this stuff's probably temporary anyway. It's just better if I…wait for it to pass.”

“Ah yes, denial, the Frederic method that has never encountered any issues, am I right?”

“It’s-” Godhead sighed. “Can you stop being a dick and actually give me good advice?”

“Oh, is mister Divine confidence asking for my help? I thought I was unfit for relationship advice. But, pardon me if I've misheard.” Toxic said, gesturing dramatically during his whole spiel, ending the sentence with an exaggerated bow.

Godhead just glared at him, clearly tired. He really prefered when Toxic was just an aggressive prick who would rather jump into turpentine than admit he liked someone.

Toxic rolled his eyes after hearing the thought, not paying it much mind. Once again, weirdly out of character, which did not help Godhead.

He just elected to look away from Toxic, one hand on his chin, all of his faces looking away from him, same for the eyes on his wings but still extended his left arm, for Toxic to try out some more fabric.

“I already told you.” Toxic said, now out of Godhead's sight. “Just stop whining about what ifs and do it. It will give you peace of mind, and I'll get to have my mind rid of you being even more insufferable than usual.” Despite the insult, Toxic's voice didn't carry any venom.

Godhead scoffed, still looking away from Toxic.

He deserves better. He really deserves better. Is it weird that I'm attracted to someone that used to be part of me? I don't know. But-

Flashes of Scared's face, of the feeling of his tentacles against his skin, of what hearing him talk felt like-

He immediately pushed all of the other Freds out of his mind. It was exhausting.

“Ugh…It was so much easier when we were just trying to kill each other…” He meant it. It was easier. But it wasn't better. He would never want to go back to that.

“One thing we can agree on.” He heard Toxic answer, and he knew that he had the same thought process as him.

He felt Toxic put another piece of fabric next to his arm, touching it slightly. He didn't see it, since he was still looking away from Toxic.

“Heh.” He heard Toxic say. “Of course this would be the one.”

In a show of ridiculous speed, Toxic managed to hide away the fabric he had in his hand before Godhead could even catch a glimpse of it.

“Eh-dude, I wanna see-”

“Too fucking bad, maybe you could’ve if you weren't too busy avoiding looking at me, but now you'll have to wait until I finish this.”

“God, you're insufferable.”

“The feeling's mutual.”

________________

Okay. Just…avoid thinking about it.

Scared was currently making himself some tea, while Frederic, who was sitting in the chair next to him, was drinking a cup of coffee.

Scared tried to pour some boiling water from the keetle into his empty cup, but he was struggling hard, his tentacle not really managing to grab unto the keetle handle properly, slipping away before he could really lift the keetle.

Ugh…can't even do that properly…if Godhead was here, I could ask him to pour it in for me-wait. No, no, don't-

Frederic looked at him struggling and seemed to take pity on him, picking the kettle up himself and pouring a good amount of water into Scared's cup.

“Oh-Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Some clouds of water vapor left the cup of tea. Scared would have to wait a bit before he could drink it, not only because the rooibos tea bag still needed to brew into the water, but also because, considering how hot it was, it would take a while to cool off. He didn't want to risk burning himself.

Frederic took another sip of his coffee before speaking.

“So, what're you planning to do about this ?”

“Heh? About what?”

Scared knew exactly what he was talking about. A small, tired smile made its way onto Frederic's lips.

“Your desperate crush on Godhead. What else?”

“It’s-it's not! I just…like spending time with him and-and…” Scared fumbled, his tentacles moving in agitated motions around him.

“We can all hear your thoughts, Scares. Don't try to lie, come on.” Frederic replied, letting out a soft chuckle.

Scared gave a small sigh of despair in response, putting three tentacles on his eyes, the beige paint that made his face taking on a reddish tint.

“Urgh…”

“So…you wanna answer my question?”

“What is there to do? Trying to pursue this further would be way too risky.”

“And why is that?”

“I…”

Multiple thoughts about Godhead swarmed him. Feelings of comfort, being held without being patronized, being respected and taken seriously, being appreciated, knowing his presence was not only welcome, but wanted.

Fear.

I don't want to lose that. I don't want him to distance himself from me because of that. If all it takes for me to experience those feelings again is stifling the desire and want I feel, then it's a small price to pay.

“Damn. Saying you have a crush is an understatement.” Frederic's voice broke him out of his own internal spiraling.

“Crushes are small flames that burn bright.” Frederic continued. “They can die down if not given any fuel, or grow bigger if the flame has been kept alive without consuming itself.”

He took a small sip of coffee, and Scared felt a burst of passion through their shared thoughts.

“What you are feeling would be closer to…a fireplace. The flames are bigger, but they're contained such as to not hurt anyone. They're still hot, and anyone who walks next to it can feel the warmth emanating from them. It's comforting, and you know that as long as there's a bit of fuel, the flame will keep burning.”

“So…I should get rid of the fuel?”

“That's gonna be hard, considering you live and share thoughts with said-fuel.”

Scared froze. He heard Frederic say what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

“You don't just have a crush, Scared. You're in love. And I mean really in love.”

Scared had no idea how to respond to that. The idea was daunting, a feeling so unlike what the fear had been created with.

But, thinking about Godhead…shit, he was giddy just thinking about being able to rest against the other, leaning into him and hearing him talk. How spending time with him made him feel safe, how he would listen to him ramble on for hours.

It just…felt right, being with Godhead.

Wow, that's corny.

I thought that was cute. Go for it, Scared!

I mean, it is cute. But it's still corny.

You should write it down! You write goood, he'll like it!

Oh yeah, Wriggly's right. Especially considering how much of a mess you are verbally. No offense.

Trying to tune out the voices of Bright, Facetaker and Wriggly out, Scared focused back on Frederic.

“That's a good idea.” He said, referring to Wriggly saying Scared should write it down.

“...you're sure?” Scared's voice was small. He got the rooibos tea bag out of the cup. He'd wait a bit before drinking it.

“Yeah. Even if you don't give it to him, it helps to put your emotions on paper.”

Scared gazed down.

“...alright.”

Scared opened his sketchbook. He always brought it with him anywhere. Not only so he could sketch or write if he wanted to, but also because the act of creating helped him when he got overwhelmed.

He usually did draw more than write, but it felt fitting to do that here. He pushed his cup of tea away from his sketchbook to avoid any unfortunate accident, and took a pencil with one tentacle.

He looked at the blank page for a few seconds.

God. I have no idea where to start.

“You want me to help?” asked Frederic, after taking a last sip of his coffee.

“...yeah.”

“Alright. But first,” he pushed the box of sugar cubes and a bootle of milk closer to Scared. “...I have a feeling you may want some additions to your tea.”

While it wasn't asked like a question, Frederic still waited for Scared to give an affirmation before putting three sugar cubes to his tea, as well as a bit of milk.

Scared reached out for his cup of tea, blowing on it a bit to cool it down slightly, before taking a sip.

It was just the right temperature.

Sometimes, he'd drink a cup of tea just like this one. Rooibos tea, just the right amount of sweet, warm but not burning, while laying against Godhead, feeling cozy while he wrapped tentacles around his arm, feeling him relax under the touch.

Maybe he could start with that. He started writing.

__________________

“They're hopeless.” Toxic groaned.

Got to agree with you on that one, unfortunately. Facetaker mentally answered.

“You're being mean. I think it's sweet they both care that much for each other.” Bright intervened, still keeping an eye on the screen.

“Yeah! It's really cool! Though it's a bit annoying how much they worry about it all the time.” Wriggly didn't take his eyes off the screen for even a moment, making sure to avoid that his vehicule in the latest Madwheels installment didn't fall off a cliff.

“They better get their shit together fast.” Toxic grumbled, fiddling with the buttons on his controller, his video-game car being overtaken by one of the ia's.

“I'm tired of hearing these two acting like lovestruck teens with room temperature iq.”

Facetaker mentally cackled. Unfortunately for him, it broke his concentration, and his view of the screen, which he could only see until now because he had been looking at it through Wriggly's eyes, was taken away from him.

Shit! Gotta refocus again…

This cost him the loss of his placement at 4th place, his car having driven off a bridge before he could actually see the screen again. By the time he got his sight back, he was down to 7th place.

How the hell do they not even notice the amount of yearning they have for each other anyway?

Facetaker did his best to get back into the race, his posture more rigid.

“Since they keep avoiding the other hearing their thoughts, they pay less attention to each other's thoughts than usual. I think that's why, at least.” Bright said, leaning back into the couch. He was just watching the other play. He chose to sit next to Toxic specifically to stop him from jumping on the other two Freds when he would inevitably lose.

“That would've been over way earlier if not…” said Wriggly.

“If this keeps going on for another week, I'm telling them both. I know what you and Bitey think Bright, but this is getting ridiculous.” Toxic had managed to reach 2nd place, which was a pretty rare occurrence.

“Toxic…” Bright sounded a bit saddened. “I understand but…we can't force this. It would be wrong to do this without their permission. They have the right to have a bit of privacy.”

“I know! It's just…agh, hearing them bitching about having to hide all their feelings when they're obviously head over heels for each other sucks. Feels like I'm stuck in some shitty rom-com.”

Please, that would be a…dammit what was the name for that figure of speech where you say the same thing twice?

“Uhhh…Pleonism?” Wriggly tried.

Oh yeah! Pretty sure it's pleonasm, but thanks.

“So you're insinuating all rom-coms are bad?” asked Bright.

Yeah, what of it?

Before this conversation could continue on any further, the race reached its end. Toxic had now reached 1st place, and was about to secure the win when an item hit his videogame character just before he could reach the finish line.

“WHAT?! NO! “

During the few seconds his character was stunned, Wriggly and a few npcs passed the finish line. When Toxic's furious fiddling of his controller finally had any effect on the game, he had been attributed 6th place.

Of course, being a good sport, Toxic violently threw his controller down on the floor.

“THIS SHIT IS SO UNFAIR!”

Before he could take out his rage onto any of the other Freds, Bright hugged him, Toxic's rage dialing down significantly, though he still cursed under his breath.

“There, there…”

For what was probably the thousandth time, Wriggly had reached first place. Facetaker mentally grumbled at the fact he ended up behind Toxic, but the green Fred's anger was enough to cheer him up.

We'll have to do something about the whole Scared and Godhead thing eventually though. This can't go on forever.

Facteker leaned into the couch, and started petting Wriggly, who had nestled himself comfortably into his lap after putting the controller down. The smaller Fred let out a soft purr.

“I think they'll figure it out soon enough.” Bright reassured, still holding Toxic in his arms.

Hoping you're right on that one…

____________________

Okay. Okay, he was doing this.

He looked straight into the mirror, trying to mentally motivate himself.

Denial surprisingly hadn't worked, so that left him with one option. Actually talking about this with Scared.

He splashed a bit of water on each of his faces.

Godhead wanted to do this properly. He wasn't going to send Scared a mental message. He was gonna say this to his face.

He gulped. The thought terrified him, but Scared deserved to hear this from him directly.

He walked out of the bathroom. Scared was probably in the living room right now, only a few rooms away.

He hadn't been avoiding Scared for the past weeks, but there was always something uncomfortable with how Godhead forced himself to stifle his own thoughts around him.

He took a small painting he had made recently from his room.

A watercolor painting of Scared.

The Frederic household had found a few days after the visitor had left that the only paintings they made that would actually come to life were the ones in oil paint. That had been a relief, to say the least, to know that they could still paint without anything coming to life, even if it wasn't with the materials they favored.

Godhead was pretty proud of the painting. It captured Scared pretty well, though it was in no way comparable to how gorgeous the real one was.

Heh. Toxic had told him he was getting soft. He probably was, but he didn't care. What if loving Sacred made him all mushy? It felt right.

Loving Scared wasn't like loving a missing piece of yourself. They all had grew into individuals outside of just being parts of Frederic, though it would always be part of their identity.

Loving Scared was more…mixing paint together. Both of the original colors looked great indivually, but mixing them together made something new. Not better or worse, but new.

And new was good.

Godhead walked into the kitchen, the room right next to the living room.

He was met with…quite a few other Frederics.

Quite a few wouldn't be the right word actually.

Litteraly everyone who lived in this goddamn house was there, safe for Scared. He hadn't even told any of them he was planning on saying anything!

Didn't need too, you kept going on and on about this internally. It'd be more surprising if we didn't know. Good thing your little crush is too anxious to actually listen to you.

Toxic hadn't even bothered to answer him out loud.

“Great. Can I just go into the living room now? You guys are not helping my own anxiety right now.” Godhead sighed, and heard some apologies and reassurance from some of the Freds through thoughts.

“Wait.” Toxic said. “You're gonna go confess like that?” He gestured a tendril to the whole of Godhead.

“...Yeah?” Godhead answered, taking a look at himself. Nothing seemed out of place.

“Oh absolutely not!” Toxic snarled. “You make a big deal about this whole thing, and then you're not even gonna dress nice for this? Unbelievable.”

“What do you-”

“Don't fucking move.” Toxic snarled, and rushed out toward his room.

Once he was out, Godhead walked toward the living room door.

“Yeah, not gonna take orders from you.”

Before he could even turn the door handle however, he was grabbed firmly by the waist, and dragged backward.

Taking a glance behind him, he saw Facetaker, who had shifted his arm to reach him, the whole thing having become a large lump of multicolored paint, made to restrain him.

“Wha- Since when do you care to listen to Toxic?” Godhead said, incredulous, still clutching his watercolor painting.

I don't, but he's got something good, trust me.

Right on time, Toxic slammed the door open, dragging a large box behind him with the help of a tiny paintling.

Facetaker freed Godhead, letting him check out the box for himself.

“You're putting this on.” Toxic declared. “No buts or ifs, I've had to ask for help from Eugene for this piece, so you better wear it.”

Godhead carefully picked up what was inside the box, still using one of his arms to hold his painting.

He took a good look at the thing.

A dress. A large, blue sleeveless dress made of a smooth and thick fabric, just his size.

Most of the Freds didn't wear clothing. Nowadays, it wasn't as much of an obligation as it had been pre-visitor, considering everyone's biology. Still, Godhead liked to wear stuff sometimes.

The one article of clothing that fit his strange anatomy was dresses. If they were large enough, they wouldn't feel too weird against the faced on his body.

And, thankfully, the apocalypse had stifled down any talk of gender norms considerably.

Still, this one was special. It was much fancier looking than Godhead's usual stuff, and the texture was that of soft silk. He didn't even want to think of how much that must have cost.

“Toxic, you…”

“Just put in on.”

Godhead immediately complied. It wasn't like he needed to leave the kitchen to go change, considering he was already technically naked.

The dress fit perfectly. It was sleeveless, and lacked any fabric on the shoulders, which allowed Godhead's shoulder heads to breathe. It didn't feel tight against the faces covering his body, instead feeling like a soft veil had been put on them.

Taking another look at the article of clothing, Godhead had a realisation.

The dress was the exact shade of blue that Scared was.

For once, Godhead was speechless.

“It’s…”

He looked at Toxic, dumbfounded. Toxic took that as a win, and was certainly preparing a snarky remark, when Shadow looked at him and simply shook his head.

Not the time.

Toxic sighed.

“Okay, okay…”

Godhead saw an uncharacteristicly soft smile forming on Toxic's face.

“Now go confess to your Romeo, dumbass.”

“Wait-”

Godhead was quickly pushed toward the living room door by a bunch of Freds.

“Nah! We've waited too long for this! “ Wriggly said, using all of his legs to push Godhead.

Godhead took a deep breath and opened the door.

Whether Scared reciprocated his feelings nor not (it was probably the latter), he'd still cherish what they had going on right now.

Okay. Here goes nothing.

_________________

Scared had no idea what the rucus in the kitchen was all about. If his fellow Freds were trying to be stealthy, they were doing a horrendous job at it.

He had been told by Bitey to “stay in the living room for a moment” and had compiled, even though he generally disliked being left alone in the open. His eyes kept scanning around the living room for any potential dangers, despite the fact that he had been living in this house for months now.

He'd elected to not focus on any of their thoughts for now. He didn't know what they wanted to suprise him with, but it would be more polite to let them do their thing.

For now, he continued writing and sketching. The letter that he was probably never going to give Godhead was growing more and more in length. There was just so much to say!

He heard the door to the kitchen open. Had they finally decided to-

Oh, it was Godhead!

Scared did a doube take when he fully realized what was in front of him.

It was Godhead.

And he looked wonderful.

Not that he didn't normally, but that dress really brought something out about his appearance. It fit him so well, and despite his lack of any actual heart, Scared swore he heard his thump.

Don't think about it Fred!

Godhead walked closer. Was he…nervous? His main face had an air of faux-confidence, but the heads on his shoulders seemed to be avoiding Scared's gaze.

That was…unsual to say the least.

The taller man walked closer to the armchair Scared was sitting on, hiding something behind his back. His thoughts got louder and louder with each step he took.

Oh god he looks so cute he's so great don't fuck this up Frederic don't fuck this up

What?

“Um…okay…” Scared could see Godhead trying to hide the slight shaking of his hands.

“So…I wanted to give you something.”

Godhead presented something to him. Taking a look at it, Scared saw that it was a portrait.

A portrait of him.

It was made with watercolor, Godhead's signature style shining through. The portrait was wonderfully rendered, light making each of his features, even the ones he despised most, look great. It was obvious it was made with an infinite amount of love and care.

Taking it in his tentacles, Scared noticed how…him-sized the portrait was.

Godhead usually painted ginormous pieces, thing that filled a whole wall. Even his smaller projects were much taller than Scared.

This portrait, however, wasn't. It fit in Scared's tentacles perfectly, just small enough for it to be held comfortably.

Considering how big Godhead was compared to him, painting on such a small canvas mustn't have been easy.

He looked up at Godhead, eyes glistening with gratefulness.

“Godhead, It’s-it's lovely!”

He saw Godhead's many faces take on a reddish tint.

Was he…blushing?

Something was starting to click for Scared.

“I…thanks.”

Godhead took a deep breath, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say next.

“It's…You're just so wonderful Scared.” He leaned down, trying his best to somewhat match Scared's size, though he still towered above him.

Scared didn't mind.

His nonexistent heart raced.

Was this what he thought this was?

“I…I don't expect you to feel anything back, but…I always spend a good moment when I'm with you.”

He wringed his hand together.

“I love being with you, hearing you talk and…damn it all.” He took another deep breath. “I love you, Scared.”

Oh.

“Godhead…”

“I…”Godhead looked away from him, but he let his thoughts spill onto Scared, letting him feel the entirety of the affection he held for him like a warm blanket on a winter afternoon.

But he also felt a slight sense of regret. Like he did something he shouldn't have done.

No, Scared wouldn't have this.

Immefiately, he wrapped a tentacle around Godhead's wrist.

Godhead froze, looking at him.

Scared took the sheets he had been writing on and gave them to him.

Godhead looked somewhat confused, but he read.

Barely a few sentence in, he looked back at Scared.

“Wait…do you really…?”

A sense of self-doubt. Of “Do I deserve this?”.

Not on his watch.

Scared sent a wave of affection toward Godhead. A tsunami of all of the love and care he felt for him and of how Godhead made him feel safe, made him feel warm, made him feel good, made him feel happy.

He kept going, concentrating deeply, sending his memories of all the moments he shared with Godhead. And he would keep going, he'd keep going for as long as he needed too, until Godhead loved himself as much as Scared loved him.

Before it got to that point however, Godhead stumbled back, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of affection Scared had sent his way.

“Fred! That was too much, oh no-”

Godhead took a tentacle in his hand, stabilizing himself.

“Fred. Scared, Scared, Scared, I love you so much.” Godhead repeated, saying his name with devotion like one would in prayer.

Scared put his tentacles all around Godhead, wrapping his whole body around him.

“I love you too, I love you so much! ”

He was pretty sure he was crying right now. He didn't care. He was just so happy.

Godhead loved him, he loved him, and he was so happy.

Scared pressed a kiss against the cheek of Godhead's main head, and he saw just how giddy it made him.

In response, Godhead took one of Scared's tentacle and planted a chaste kiss unto it, treating it like delicate porcelain.

Things were good. Things were great.

They both ended up in the armchair, Scared snuggling against Godhead, and Godhead holding him while they spoke words of affection to one another.

“Heh, of course the others were pissed if they knew we were both into each other.” Godhead snickered between kisses.

Scared chuckled in response.

“So…are we like…dating now?” He asked.

“I guess? Not sure it's gonna change much anyway.” Godhead replied.

“Except I can do this!” He continued, swarming Scared with affection.

They both simply basked in the comfort of the other's presence, appreciating the warmth, calm and peace the other Fred brought them.

“LET'S GOOOOOOOO! “

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Some yells were heard coming from the kitchen, with some clapping.

Well…as much calm and peace as there could be in the Frederic household anyway.

“It wouldn't be as much fun without these guys anyway.” Godhead said, and Scared agreed without any hesitation.

[demeterdefence]

i had some time to chill i took a walk i drank some water i still hate this sequence

fastpass spoilers and sexual assault references ahead

i mentioned a few weeks ago how much i disliked persephone's last interaction with apollo and how the narrative wants to insist that persephone has moved on / healed from her assault, and with the last chapter and fastpass spoilers, it has genuinely just gotten worse. like at this point i can't even fault the characters or their choices, this is 1000% a rachel thing, and i hope her computer crashes in the middle of an eight hour drawing that she hasn't saved ANYWAYS

i don't think it needs to be said that rachel sexualizes her abuse victim. like, there's a reason that hera is naked during her fight with kronos despite kronos being clothed; there's a reason persephone was alone and apollo had his shirt undone when they spoke on the phone before the press conference. it's masquerading as feminine empowerment, but it just seeks to emphasize how rachel sexualizes abuse, and how she will still try to redeem these male characters.

it's very telling that while she's having kronos monologue how sad and abused he was, and how he was ruled by fear, we cut to a shot of apollo and eros with the love arrow - another plot point that drove me absolutely bonkers but we'll get to that. the placement is not random, for all that it feels it; she's trying to draw a connection between apollo and kronos, how they're both ruled by fear.

apollo is planning to assault persephone again. this is not me being dramatic or exaggerating - he knows what the arrow does, he knows persephone hates him, he is absolutely planning to assault her again for his own purposes. whether kronos' apology was intended to be sincere or not, placing apollo in the visual middle of it sets a tone. he has abused persephone in the past and he will abuse her again.

the next time apollo and persephone interact, persephone has figured out how to make spring again (somehow, without explanation, one trainwreck at a time i guess.)

i don't love her plan, and i don't love how it came about, but on the top ten list of crimes in this webcomic, it's not the worst. persephone plays up her "weak, damsel in distress" image to apollo so he'll underestimate her - fine, whatever, not the end of the world. it's how rachel depicts this that i take issue with.

it took me a couple of minutes for that last picture to realize they're supposed to be struggling because it genuinely looks like they're making out lmao thanks rachel i hate it

not entirely related but the way the lineart becomes minuscule except on the face and chest rachel really shows her priorities

i'll skip a few more panels of apollo manhandling persephone with her doing pretty much nothing to fight back - she alternates between pleading with him to listen to her when he has historically never done so, and threatening to expose him for the rape, which also historically has never worked, but that's about the extent of her fight back. this is all before she knows about the arrow, so i'm hesitant to say she's playing him with her distress; this is genuinely the extent of her fight back.

a clear callback to the assault, which in another author's hands might have succeeded in being harrowing and traumatizing for the readers, but just filled me with visceral anger.

[narrator voice] fucking yikes!

ties her up, but don't worry! her chest will be on prominent display no matter what.

unrelated tangent once again but i love! how rachel has retconned the narrative so that ouranos was manipulating apollo all along! instead of apollo owning up to being a shitheel, we've got a master manipulator in the background, who can take some of the blame for apollo's actions! cool!!!

anyways persephone's plan is to make apollo fall in love with her, so he'll feel bad about raping her.

that's it.

we don't get persephone defeating apollo. we don't get persephone getting actual justice. it takes apollo being under the control of magic to admit what happened - it's a cheap cop-out, a lukewarm offering at best. i'm not joking, either, in the fastpass apollo quite literally goes on live television and admits he raped persephone, because he's under the magic of the love arrow. not because he genuinely feels bad, or because persephone got justice - it's a deus ex machina to wrap up the assault plotline. rachel never figured out if apollo was a master manipulator or some idiot tool, so she swerves between both, and then tosses the plot out to make room for something else.

it's such a miserable, cheap conclusion to a storyline that so many women have dealt with. years of waiting for apollo to be brought to justice, and he goes out with a little whimper, and persephone's assault gets swept under the rug again.

what a disappointment.