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stusbunker · 6 years ago

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Pretzel Crumbs

A Supernatural Fan-fic

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Reader

A/N: Porn Without Plot, seriously just SMUT below the cut. Fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, a good ol’ pounding. This was written with wine, edited the next day, but not really justified. ;) xoxo Stu

The damp coldness of the Bunker floor stung your bare feet, sending you scampering in the early morning quiet. You didn’t bother to get dressed, instead you hid your body beneath an oversized hoodie on the way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Time was confusing underground, midnight snack was close enough a description for a mouth full of whipped cream and a handful of pretzels.

After affectionately patting the stash you tucked inside your pouch, you turned to head back to your room. It was season release day of your favorite show, you had hours to go before you let your beloved characters go for another six to eighteen months. You froze, quickly retracing your steps to grab a bottle of water to wash down the salt when a heavy, yet warm arm reached over your head.

“Ahfn!” You ducked, swinging an ankle out in attempt to sweep the leg on whoever had you pinned against the fridge door. Hunting instincts were impossible to turn off. Sam hopped back, one hand on the door and the other on the fridge frame. He tilted his head down at you as he noticed your pants-lessness.

“Didn’t think you’d be up yet.” Sam teased, grabbing the bottle next to the spot left by yours, which was now clutched to your chest like a sacred stuffed animal. His Lanky-ness reached down with his left hand and dragged you back on to your feet.

“Yet? You underestimate the power of a good Netflix binge.”

“Really, Y/N? We just got back from four days on the road and you’re already not sleeping?” Sam gave you the ‘take better care of yourself’ leer.

“We got back after eleven last night and you’re already up and running. Don’t “at” me with those eyebrows, Samuel.” You retorted, pointing your finger into his broad chest. His chin dropped as he tried to soften his forehead, you held his ever-changing eyes and suddenly you were both in fits. A deep belly laugh from him, something so warm and rare that it actually hurt a bit to hear. A half snort, half chuckle from you as you both acknowledged your respective hunting head-space coping mechanisms.

At some point Sam had started playing with the drawstring on your sweatshirt, though you didn’t notice because you had been coming down from your hysterics in large gulping huffs.

“Well,” you exhaled, looking up to the man you had been not-so-secretly pining over for the better part of a decade. “I’ve got the undead to see to.” Finally noticing how Sam spun the eyelet between his wide thumb and forefinger. He hadn’t been looking at you, but at the ground, his face scrunched as if he was deciphering Enochian.

“Y/N?” Sam started, but then straightened up. Backing away, letting the string fall back against your chest, which you rubbed absently as if pinning it in place. The simple action caused Sam to throw his head back and slam his eyes shut.

“Sam? What’s the matter?” You started to panic, he didn’t usually bring something up if it wasn’t important.

He shook his head, notably refusing to make eye contact. “Uh, nothing, you know?” He curled is mouth, “I should, uh, I should probably hit the trails before Dean finds us another case.”

“Sam?” You slinked toward him, breath hitching as his eyes locked on to your legs. “I’m not buying whatever you are trying to sidestep here. What. Is. Wrong?”

Sam swallowed, stepping back from you until his heels hit the step at the doorway. He scratched the back of his head, expression mixed as if he didn’t know how to tell Dean to lay off the whiskey, but knew someone had to say it.

“Legs.” Sam sighed. “Your legs are right there and I can’t keep my eyes off of them. And then my mind wanders, Y/N. That’s what’s wrong. The wandering.”

You looked down at your legs, twisting one on the ball of your foot as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Uh, where exactly are those thoughts taking you? Because, um, your legs are right there too, Mister Running Shorts.”

Sam flinched a bit as your eyes hovered over his pelvis, before he replied in a husky whisper, “My thoughts are taking me right to the top of them.”

You gaped at him now, looking at him and then back at your body in utter perplexity. Once more, just to be sure everyone was real and present. “Now my thoughts are wandering.”

There was barely a tremble in your voice before Sam stepped forward and wrapped his long arm around your waist. But he didn’t start with your mouth, his scuff-covered jaw nuzzled your neck over, allowing his lips to burn against the tender flesh below your ear. It felt like a dream, every sensation new yet familiar. Every motion rushed, jumbled, wanted. You dragged your fingers down his muscled back as he pulled you up for the real deal.

Sam slowly pecked at your lips, drawing you open with need before delving into caress your tongue with his. His lips were firm, yet gentle. And impossibly, you melted further into him. A muted crinkling sound caused you both to freeze.

“Oh man!” You whined, tilting your sweater up to dump the pretzel crumbs you had crushed into being, on the floor. “Ugh, I better sweep this up before the Kitchen Nazi wakes up.”

Sam just shook his head, bunching the hem of the hoodie in his strong hands before pulling you back against him. “Leave it. I need to see more first.”

You gulped, his voice was so low you felt it more than heard it. With courage and confidence you didn’t know you had, you nodded, tossing your hands up in surrender and affirmation, for Sam to undress you. You tried not to think about what underwear you had on or the fact that it was always so frigid in the kitchen. But as soon as Sam had your top off, he was bending you back and scooping you up.

You shrieked, biting back the sound as Sam’s hot mouth found a pearled nipple. Your hands dug into his hair, holding him tight against you as he blindly led you back to his room. Once the door was kicked closed, he started stepping out of his clothing. Lips and teeth clashing again in a frenzied dance, each layer removed, meant a higher fevered kiss. Whichever hand was free was stroking every inch of your thighs, back and ass, pinching and pulling you closer. The heat rolled off of his body and yours shivered in reply. Every moment was reciprocated, matched, and challenged.

Your mind was spinning, but your core called you both to task. Once Sam was down to his running briefs, his deft fingers slid between your thighs, to that slicked valley where his thoughts had sent him. Still standing, you spread for him, needing something to rub against. You braced yourself against him leaving lazy nibbles along his pec. Your body sparked with each touch, your nipples ached in the open air. As he sunk two fingers into your dripping center, you bucked, the rough stretch of him more than you ever dreamed.

He groaned as your hand slid lower, fingertips teasing against his abs, until ghosting over the taunt fabric of his shorts. He was hot and thick, and barely holding himself back. Slowly he bent down, granting his wrist more motion and you could no longer support your own weight. Every thrust had you clamping down on his digits. Your legs gave out as Sam sunk to his knees. He nipped just below your navel, gathering your knees to his stomach, he lifted you up, nearly hitting the ceiling as he tossed you onto his king sized bed.

You rolled over, crawling to the edge of the bed. When he reached you, Sam tried to loom over you, but once your hands found the waistband, he relented. “Finally, I get to see all of you, too.” You mewled, stroking inch after velvety inch of him.

“God, Y/N, hmmmm,” Sam’s eyes closed in pleasure, when suddenly you were gone. He gave you a devilish grin as you leaned back, settling yourself in the middle of his modest pillows. You dramatically kicked one leg over the other as his eyes and then his body pressed you to the spot. He quickly uncrossed your legs, leaving one bent and one straight as he settled at your apex. His cock dripped with precum, glistening against your thigh. You writhed beneath him, desperate for entry, to be filled and fucked. Desperate for all of him. All of Sam.

“Easy, baby, we’ve got time.” Sam purred, his pet name heavy on the air as he took you in a slow and sensuous kiss. This was not the reckless kiss from when you undressed, this was barely a brook, which lead to a stream, and soon the river had swept you both away. With Sam’s hands braced on either side of your face, you arched against him. Your walls fluttering against the emptiness. You moaned which broke off into a whine, the need for friction, for anything turning you into something closer to an animal. “Hm, looks like someone needs it too bad to take it slow this time, hm?”

“Sam,” You sighed, growling against his ear, “I swear if you don’t fuck me soon, I will do it myself.”

He chuckled, desire threading through each deep syllable. “I’d kind of like to see that.” He stroked himself, the pink tip drawing your gaze as his veiny hand moved in a practiced gesture. “But I think you’ve been patient enough with me.”

“Uh, you have no idea,” You let out in a contented whimper as he slipped slowly inside of you. Your wet cunt shook with the tempered entry, his cock was massive, stretching you deeply and you yearned to take it all in. Once Sam stilled you reached back and clutched his wrists, securing yourself beneath him. With one swift pop of his hips you were broken in, fitting perfectly over his length. Sam found a building rhythm, your back half off the mattress with one leg tight against his lower back.

Your tits shook with his thrusts, everything was heightened with Sam. His fierce eyes taking in every contorted expression and breathy hum. And somehow he still lavished you with affection, his lips and teeth pulled at your skin, sending shock waves over you, down your back, ending where you two were joined.

“So good to me, Baby. I can’t believe I wasted so much time without this.” He had slowed to a leisurely pace, but that just made everything more focused. Each entry sung with his prowess, while each retreat was tinged with loss, fueling a growing need.

As his tongue tickled the puckered flesh around your nipple, your finish began to unfurl. Deep inside, the layers melted away, Sam groaned as you tightened against him. He pulled back, bracing both your legs around his waist now, his fingertips biting into the soft meat of your thighs, pulling you tighter and closer than ever. Sam blew gentle streams over your chest, and his newly freed hand allowed him to coax your swollen bud with the rough pad of his thumb. Your sex boiled as every nerve ending awoke, like a struck match, lighting the next in a never-ending trail of dominoes, snaking through your lower belly until the final flame fell. And the dam broke. You came hard, drawing Sam deeper inside you as your body called him along.

Words and noises exploded from your throat, things that you had no control or understanding. With a few stuttered heaves of his wide chest, Sam moaned, eyes slamming shut just before bursting open once more. He shoved himself to your limit, and just as your orgasm relented, his shot through you both. Hot, thick chords filled your body, spasms around Sam’s dick, took everything he could spare. Everything quieted, your moans and Sam’s breathing. Slowly, you released each other, falling sweaty and tired against the comforter. You leaned over, placing a simple kiss on each of his dimples, he nuzzled your nose in return.

“Do you have any idea how long I have wanted that? Wanted you?” Sam’s voice was reverential, a man who had never seen the night sky.

“Uh, no, clearly, because this would have happened like that,” you snapped your fingers, “had I’d known. Trust me.” You grinned lazily back at him.

Once you were settled beneath the blankets, Sam pulled you on to his chest. His thumb traced mindless patterns on your upper arm as you listened to the melodic thrumming of his heart. You cleared your throat and perched your chin over your folded hands. Sam’s arms propped behind his head like a pair of wings. “Uh-oh.”

“No, uh-oh.” You grimaced. “But-”

“But, what, Y/N?”

“Who’s going to tell Dean?” You asked, face comically worried. Sam laughed, his face bright and almost gloating.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m worried-”

“I’ll talk to him. I mean, if this is going to continue, which I hope it does.”

“Same.” You sigh, leaning up to place a lingering kiss on his amused mouth.

“I should go.”

“No fair.” You pouted. Sam pulled you in for a final tight squeeze before getting dressed for his late run.

“Just get some rest, I like the sight of you in my bed.” Sam flicked off his bedroom light and left you to wander off to intangible dreams.

Twenty minutes later and a booming voice shot through the Bunker, “Whoever thought it was a good idea to treat the kitchen like a bar floor last night, you better get your ass in here with the broom!”

Fucking roommates.

@dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @curly-haired-disaster @oneshoeshort @salt-n-burn-em-all @madlu45 @mrswhozeewhatsis

Please tell me if you don’t want to be tagged! I just tagged some Sam!girls I follow, besides my usuals.

#supernatural #sam winchester #spn #sam smut #sam winchester x female reader #sam x reader #sam x you #spn smut #smut #supernatural fanfiction #awkward sam is so cute #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x y/n

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texanredrose · 6 years ago

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Dishonored - Ch 7

Chapter 7: Red

Ruby lead the way through the canyon, following a trail Nora and Ren had marked earlier to reach the area they’d designated for Blake’s airships to land. It wouldn’t be ideal- they didn’t have the sort of supplies to hide that many airships from a passing patrol- but they just needed a little luck to make it through the night. By tomorrow’s sunset, they should be almost to Atlas with a fleet of fully stocked airships.

“So that’s why you wanted to believe she’d turned so bad.”

��Huh?” Blinking, she looked beside her, knowing by her sister’s body language that she was smirking and smug. While Nora and Ren had gone on ahead, Pyrrha and Winter trailed, spreading themselves out with the sisters in the middle. At this point, it was habit to move as tactically as possible. “What are you talking about?”

She jerked her head behind them. “You’ve got a crush on Wolfie over there.”

“Wol- what?” Quickly, she reached out and stiffened her arm, lightly shoving Yang away. “Oh, come off it. You’re just sore because I was right- again.”

“Sore? Me? Nah.” A shrug, glancing behind them again. “I mean, once you get past the reputation and the constant gloom and doom, she’s not that bad to look at-”

“I swear to the Maidens and beyond, I will shoot you.”

“I can take it.” Her sister shrugged off the idle threat. “Besides, your cheeks wouldn’t be that color if I was wrong.”

She stopped, a bit of panic rising in her chest. “Wait, I’m blushing?” Then, it hit her. “My cheeks are covered.”

Yang pat her shoulder lightly. “It’s alright; now we can think of the most important battle of our lives as a double date, too!”

“Ya- Dr- argh!” Failing to vocalize anything substantial, Ruby marched forward, brushing past her sister and not bothering to look back. “We aren’t talking about this!”

“You know, the longer you spend pretending you’d give just anyone Summer’s cloak, the harder this’ll be for everyone!”

First off, she mentally ranted simply so the conversation could end, they’d specifically collected up enough supplies so every member of the resistance heading across the sea would have the appropriate clothing. On top of everything else working against them, it seemed like such a small, avoidable thing to get everyone a coat so they could properly focus. Being a late addition and refusing to don her only uniform, Winter provided a unique challenge that had forced her to be a bit creative.

Secondly… okay, she could admit that she found the woman’s steely resolve admirable. Before, she’d cursed it, because it seemed to be tied to her loyalty to Atlas. However, she obviously had a greater loyalty to her own principles and ideals and, now that they were aligned as allies, Ruby didn’t think it should be noteworthy that she found herself liking just how stubborn Winter could be. Even the little fight- brief though it was- she put up when accepting the cloak was cute-

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and raised a hand to her temple. Yang was getting into her head, that’s all. She respected and admired all her allies, her friends. A new addition to their ragtag crew didn’t automatically qualify as a ‘crush’ just because her sister seemed to think it.

“Something troubling you?”

“No!” She stiffened slightly, looking at Ren with wide eyes. “Why?”

“Well, you’re walking fast enough to catch up to us, so…” Nora gestured behind them- far behind them, where the other three walked at a slower but determined pace. “That usually only happens when you’re in your head again.”

“There’s a lot going on, that’s all.” Shaking her head, she looked ahead of them to where the last of the airships were setting down, the low drone of their engines cutting out as soon as safely possible. “Come on. Cat’s waiting for us.”

In a flurry of rose petals, she rushed ahead, relieved to see Ilia had gone with the scouts to receive the White Fang. That should mean Blake already knew the situation and they could avoid any sort of unpleasantness and skip straight to planning out their assault.

“Hey, Rose.” The Faunus greeted, her own horned mask in place as she raised a hand to indicate the straggler ship. “Cat should be landing now.”

“She brought up the rear?” Worry touched her heart but she remained calm; no one else seemed alarm, so she shouldn’t react just yet.

“While we were crossing Mistral, we encountered another Atlesian airship.” She recognized the voice from several discreet calls made over the years- at first whenever Blake missed home and then when the Faunus happened to be away and had either parent cover for her in the meantime. Despite not being able to see beyond the white King Taijitu mask covering her face, Kali’s body language looked a bit more on edge and worn than the last time they’d talked, something in the way she kept looking around at the canyon walls worrying Ruby. “Cat peeled off to deal with them and just caught up.”

She couldn’t help but wince. That would probably upset Winter, though she couldn’t begin to guess how she might react. Probably with that sorrowful acceptance that seemed to accompany so many of her actions of late. “Did everyone make it?”

“Thankfully, yes.” Ghira stepped off a ramp, coming to stand beside his wife and she could definitely hear the frown that curled his lips beneath the black half. “We split ourselves up as best we could to maintain a hierarchy, but I’m glad it was unnecessary.”

They both looked uneasy, and she suspected it didn’t just have to do with their daughter not yet being present. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mom, you look… tense.” Nora pointed out as she and Ren caught up. “It’s weird.”

Usually, hearing her codename- a running joke that they opted to adopt for other purposes because of the ease with which it could be worked into conversations, and none of them had living mothers anymore- would brighten Kali’s mood, but not this time.

“We were raised not far from here.” Kali sighed, leaning into her husband’s side as he put an arm around her shoulders. “We played in this very canyon as children.”

“We flew over the remnants of our village. The vegetation has reclaimed some of it but the scars are still there.” His voice rumbled, anger and pain mixing together. “It’s about time we returned home. I’m just sorry so few of us were able to return.”

Ruby glanced at Ren and Nora, who’d always connected with Blake’s parents due to that shared memory, even if their respective villages were on opposite sides of the kingdom. Watching the Atlesians send their soldiers and mechs through, destroying everything in sight, losing their home and so much more- it was burned into their bones. She could only guess at how they felt, denied the chance to have memories of the place Atlas had destroyed. “I’m sorry to pull you from it so quickly.”

“If we had the resources to fight a protracted war, we’d take back every inch after it’s been drenched in Atlesian blood.” Kali sighed, the fury bleeding from her voice. “But this is the better option. A quick and decisive strike to cripple them before we return home for good.”

Ghira nodded. “This time, we won’t surrender.”

Discreetly, she exchanged a glance with her friends, highly aware of who would be joining them any moment now. “Um, Mom, I know you have a very justified reason for hating Atlesians-”

“Rose!” Blake chose that moment to come around the airship, a small entourage behind her- including her ever present and sometimes unnerving bodyguard. The moment she could, she removed the Yaguara mask covering the top half of her face and smiled. Unlike the rest of them, the Faunus very much disliked wearing the masks unless absolutely necessary, complaining that they limited her vision. “Ruby. And here I thought we’d be late- there’s a lot that we...” She trailed off upon catching sight of Ilia. “Did... you…”

“No, I didn’t carry out the assassination.” Ilia crossed her arms over her chest, looking at once annoyed and pleased with that fact. “Both of them are still alive and on our side. Supposedly.”

Ruby watched as Blake’s shoulders dropped, clear and plain... relief showing in her expression.

And, for whatever reason, her parents seemed to be on the same page, with Ghira’s voice sounding a little hopeful and very conflicted. “So, the Colonel-”

“Actually, I prefer ‘Wolf’ nowadays.” Attention shifted to Winter as she, Yang, and Pyrrha joined them, and she reached up to remove her mask as she spoke. “I realize that it’s not much comfort but I have no intention of carrying out the extermination order and I’ve done everything in my power to try and stop it. I’m sorry that it took me so long to see the error of my ways and Atlas’ flaws.”

Kali chuckled, though it didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. “Sounds like you’ve been rehearsing that.”

“Well, I did have the walk out here to think of what I should say.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Words can only do so much, I know that, and I hope to prove myself true in the trials to come.”

Ghira nodded, looking entirely at ease. “Something tells me you’ll do fine.”

Ruby looked between the Faunus, Winter- anyone and everyone, because she’d… somehow missed something amidst all this.

“Sienna,” Blake said over her shoulder. “Bring her around.”

“Who? What?” She spread her hands, looking over at her sister to see Yang just as confused. “I-I thought you’d be, ya know… a little upset!”

“Remember the ‘reasons’ I mentioned before, when I was talking about hoping you’d actually gotten through to the Colonel?” The Faunus turned, waving a hand. “She is why. This is the Atlesian intelligence officer who helped us gather the airships with minimal losses.”

Ruby heard the sharp gasp from Winter, could see plainly the hope shining in blue eyes and that- that alone made so much worth it, because she could tell that ‘hope’, in its most distilled form, was an alien concept to the Atlesian. She’d probably never hoped for anything in earnest throughout her life, convinced things could only be one way- the Atlas way, regardless of how well or ill that boded. But here, now, she hoped with everything she had, and was rewarded when a woman an inch shorter than Ruby herself made her way through the throng of White Fang, wearing the unmistakable uniform of an Atlesian officer, high necked white jacket and all.

Winter didn’t want to think it. Couldn’t, because it would crush her to be wrong. Yet, she couldn’t help but hope that she recognized the soldier about to step through the throng.

It quite nearly winded her when she did.

“Blake, I don’t know why-” Weiss- because it could be no one else wearing her ponytail offset, white hair trailing behind her as it did, because she’d never taken to buns the way Mother insisted- stopped short upon seeing her, ripping off the Boarbatusk mask covering the top half of her face by one tusk and staring in slack jawed amazement.

It almost strangled her, trying to speak and breath, unable to believe that somehow, through all the things that had happened, she could really be standing in the middle of White Fang Faunus and the Mistrali resistance with her sister. “Weiss…”

“Winter- you-” Tears welled in her eyes before she sprinted forward and threw herself into Winter’s chest in a hug that quite nearly bowled her over. “You’re here, after I’ve spent the past week trying figure out what to do, you just- you could’ve told me!”

“I’m... embarrassed to say my revelation came relatively recently.” She wrapped her arms around her sister, eyes shutting tight as she tried to hold back tears of her own. She didn’t think it possible- how could she?- but, here she was, with a mask of her own, both of them fighting towards the same goal. “You didn’t say anything a few days ago.”

“A few days ago, I believed a peaceful solution was still possible.” They both drew back and she could see in Weiss’ eyes that looked so much like her own, the revulsion and deep rooted terror not only at what could have happened but who would be charged with carrying it out. “But that- that’s not important right now. We’ve a lot to do and a short time to do it, especially if...”

If we’re to fight Mother- she didn’t need to say the words, but the way her left hand twitched towards the sword at her side. A gift from the woman, much like her own, and a constant reminder of what was expected of both of them.

Expectations neither planned to meet.

“Right.” They both nodded and stepped back, pointedly looking elsewhere, though Winter cleared her throat a moment later. “I’m glad you’re safe- well, relatively speaking, of course.”

“I’m just glad that… I didn’t lose you,” Weiss replied, and she looked back in time to see her sister scrubbing away any evidence of tears. “I mean…” Summoning her courage, their gazes met again. “If you’d gone through with the order…”

Confliction showed plain in her expression, always more expressive than Mother would approve of and wearing her heart on her sleeve, but in this moment Winter felt nothing but gratitude. She wasn’t alone in struggling between her love for her family and her sense of right and wrong.

“I understand. One good decision doesn’t absolve me of all the other orders I followed, though.” Reaching out, she put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You would be right to condemn me, just as we’re right to join this fight. We… must make the distinction between our personal feelings and what’s best for Remnant.” She took a steadying breath. “At this point, we’re the only family we have left; it’s the best way to look at our current situation.”

Despite the way her expression crumbled- because, though she hadn’t seen eye to eye with their mother, some part of Weiss always wanted her approval, an elusive thing that even Winter herself doubted existed sometimes- Weiss nodded resolutely and stepped back, bending down to scoop up their masks. They’d both dropped them sometime between seeing each other and embracing but now reclaimed them while retreating to their respective sides.

“... is she always that… serious?” After affixing her mask in place, Winter looked over to see the cat Faunus with white Taijitu mask leaning towards Dragon, but not making a concerted effort to be discreet.

“Yeah,” Rose replied with a chuckle. “You get used to it.”

“Well, you needn’t worry about lacking in family,” the larger one with the black mask said, holding out his hand. “We’ve too few allies to be anything less than family at this point.”

Winter hesitated for only a moment, noted Weiss’ encouraging nod, and then made to shake his hand. However, he grasped her forearm instead and pulled her forward… into a hug.

Almost immediately, Rose laughed. “Dad, I think you’re scaring her!”

“She’ll warm up to it.” He chuckled, releasing her and clapping her on the shoulder. She hadn’t quite noticed how much he towered over her until right then. “Cub did.”

“Is that really what you’re going to call me?” Weiss at least tried to sound a bit dignified in her objection, though it still sounded a bit like a whine.

“Well, in light of the circumstances, ‘Pup’ would be more appropriate.” Mom laughed, setting a hand on Dad’s arm and lightly separating them. “We should get moving, though. I think Tiger is getting impatient.”

“I would argue I’m merely remaining skeptical.” The one called Sienna before, standing off to the side and wearing a Lancer mask, scoffed. “We’re really to believe the highest ranking Atlesian in Mistral had a change of heart yesterday?”

“Technically, it was two days ago, when she offered to release me from custody.” Rose quickly interjected, drawing the Faunus’ attention. “And I trust her. That should be enough.”

“Rose,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I appreciate your vote of confidence but she’s right to be skeptical- and probably too kind. I’ve a long ways to go towards making amends before my past stops haunting me.”

Silver eyes flicked her way and they both stood their ground. She probably should’ve addressed it in private, so as to not undercut the woman’s authority, but Winter felt it imperative to acknowledge it publicly and often. The mistakes she’d made in her life would mean nothing if she didn’t learn from them. Ultimately, she suspected Rose understood that as well, as she didn’t continue the argument verbally but the look in her eyes promised the conversation wasn’t over.

Tiger made a considering noise. “They do have a way of pleading their cases. Must be hereditary.”

“Either way, it’s a good point.” Cat fixed her mask back in place, raiding her voice to catch everyone’s attention. “Leave ten here; we’ll rotate guards until the attack. Everyone else, fall in and move out.”

“Maybe I should-”

“No.” Cat set a hand on Weiss’ back, about midway down, and Winter found herself surprised by her sister’s lack of reaction to that. They’d always been a little… prone to avoiding physical contact when possible. “At least, not right now. We need to coordinate the assault, first.”

“Horse, Sloth, lead the way.” Rose turned her head as those two took off, a score of White Fang following them along with Tiger. “Dragon, Fireheart, you two cover the rear?”

“Sure.” A shrug from broad shoulders. “You and Wolf can take the middle.”

“Yeah. Right.” A nod before her attention shifted. “Mom, Dad?”

“I hope you don’t hold it against us,” Mom said, nodding towards her partner. “We’re rather keen on stretching our legs.”

Rose nodded and the two, along with another group of White Fang, took off in a run after waiting a minute more, allowing for a little space between the groups. “Cat? Cub?”

“After you,” the Faunus replied, turning her attention to her troops. “The majority of you, go with them. We’ll only need a few squads to stay back and there’s food at the camp.”

Their spirits lifted at that promise as Winter fell into step beside Rose, the two starting to follow the trail back. They became surrounded by White Fang, their relatively nondescript masks covering the top half of their faces. She supposed it marked them as regular members of the Remnant wide resistance though she couldn’t recall many instances when suspected resistance members had them in their possession. It cemented even further in her mind that they absolutely must succeed, for everyone’s sake.

“So, that’s your sister?”

“Yes,” she replied, once again feeling the urge to cry but managing to keep hold of her emotions. It wouldn’t do them any good for her to start bawling out of sentimentality. “I can honestly say I’ve never been happier to see her.”

“Well, I guess that settles it.” At her questioning glance, Rose elaborated. “What we talked about earlier- you didn’t know if you set the right example, but it sounds to me like both of your siblings are pretty committed to following their own paths, even if it goes against what others expect of them.” Even though she couldn’t see it, she could hear the smile in her voice. “I’d say you raised them right.”

“I suppose I did.” She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Whitley abandoning his post seemed more like chasing a whimsical fantasy than him following his own path, and his flippant remarks regarding the mine workers didn’t set her at ease. But, perhaps, if Weiss could come to her own conclusions, she had reason to hope he would, too.

“It’s a nice night.”

She blinked, looking at the woman beside her before raising her gaze. The sun had set but the sky remained tinged purple as the dying light faded, high clouds drifting lazily across the stars beginning to shine bright. Without the shattered moon to cast its light, the canyon became a sea of shadows, but she could see well enough. “It is. Would be good for a run, if you’re interested.”

“You think you can keep up?” Rose raised a brow.

Winter thought, briefly, of the red rose petals that scattered in her wake when she escaped from the base. However, she always had her glyphs, if it became a true competition. “I can certainly try. Besides, we have hungry allies.”

“That’s a good point.”

Two more steps before they both broke out into a run. Despite being shorter, Rose had a considerable stride, and Winter found herself controlling her breathing to prevent becoming winded and even calling on her glyphs a time or two to keep her pace up. Their cloaks flapped behind them as the White Fang broke out into a run themselves, their boots hitting the stone bouncing off the canyon- a stampede of warriors ready for a war.

She hadn’t ran alongside someone else in years. Fitness mattered, of course, but she would usually attend to it between her duties, alone, on a treadmill or in a gym. The night air filling her lungs, the pounding of others’ beside her, the burning in her legs- this was the feeling of belonging she’d thrown herself into all those years ago.

It felt good to have that again.

Ruby sat in the tent, casting her gaze around to the others. As a matter of course, they only had so much room in the tent, so Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora busied themselves elsewhere, doing final checks on equipment and watching the base. Sienna also found other things to do- likely overseeing the rotations- while Ghira went to talk with Flynt, curious about these new and unexpected allies.

That left her, Yang, Winter, Weiss, Blake, and Kali to develop the attack plan alongside their most knowledgeable source: Terry. Who… frankly, didn’t seem very keen on looking at their friend at the moment, pointedly ignoring the woman’s presence. Winter seemed to take it in stride, neither remarking on it nor drawing attention to herself. She’d argued with Ruby at first, believing she couldn’t offer as much tactical insight or useful information, but she ultimately conceded and sat beside Ruby with such straight posture it would make a statue jealous. Yang sat on her left, drumming her fingers against her knee while Terry pulled out a crude, hand drawn map of the interior of the Research Facility, setting it between them and the White Fang leaders.

“Atlas has the best defense grid in Remnant, capable of acknowledging and defeating threats from land, sea, and air,” Terry said, sitting back on their heels. Their helmet sat beside them, a contrast to the masks the rest of them had and looking a bit too much like the old Atlesian Knight’s head for the Faunus’ comfort. “However, to protect the secret nature of the facility, several of these systems are not used due their reliance on our surveillance network. Atlas Command is very strict about no manner of cameras anywhere near the facility.”

“I assume that means no automated Paladins or Knights.” Kali shifted slightly. “Those would be the systems you’re referring to, correct?”

“Yes. However, I’m afraid that doesn’t make our job any easier.” A sigh left their lips, brows drawing together as they pulled out the other map Ren drew, the one showing the shore and the terrain leading to Atlas Command. “This whole air space is patrolled by a full fleet of Atlesian airships- both the basic transport models and the larger, battle class ships. There’s also dozens of walking patrols and manned Paladins. Any attempt at an attack above ground would be a war of attrition, and the entire fleet will respond to an attack via air or sea as well.”

“I see.” Blake’s ears laid back as her lips tugged into a frown, brow furrowing. “So the plan is for you to use the rail line to reach Atlas Command while my White Fang fights this war, is that it?”

“You did say you wanted to get dirty.” Yang pointed out, though she didn’t seem pleased at all by the arrangement.

“As eager as we are to fight, this sounds like a lot more like a massacre.” She raised a hand, gesture back towards the canyon. “We hardly have a fleet, and not one outfitted for an all out aerial battle.”

“I know; we can’t win a fight in the air or on the ground, not without some serious firepower or a miracle.” Ruby hated the taste of defeat lingering on her tongue, acidic as it was. “We’re also not trying to win. All we need is to draw them away from Atlas Command.”

“Would a full battalion of Knights and a squad of Paladins tip the odds in our favor?”

She blinked and looked over at Winter, who seemed contemplative, as if she’d just remembered something but couldn’t quite place it.

“Well, it definitely couldn’t hurt,” Yang said, scratching idly at her jaw. “But it’s a bit late to go shopping.”

“Not if we take the shop with us.” Her brows pinched together. “It’s been a while since the last inspection but I have at least that on my flagship, if memory serves.”

“You have a what?”

“All commanding officers are issued a personal airship, the class of which is determined by rank.” Weiss frowned, looking to her sister. “But, I’m not sure if we have time to return and retrieve it.”

“I left it here at the southwest base due to a… lack of adequate docking space at the central one.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I denied the proposal to build a suitable dock three years ago; it would’ve been entirely too costly in terms of space management and I hardly use the thing anyway.”

The woman frowned. “You mean, you’ve been chained to your desk for five years.”

“Regardless, your personal ship would be a helpful addition. If only I’d possessed such foresight” Terry coughed into their hand. “It will also draw a considerable amount of attention, though.”

“Let me worry about that.”

Silently, the two argued about something before both looked away, apparently at a stalemate.

“Even with the additional firepower, we’re still going to be outgunned and outmanned,” Ruby said, voice soft as she didn’t lose sight of Blake’s initial concern. She’d have to ask about the other stuff later. “We’re both going to lose a lot. I don’t like it but it’s the truth. There’s… only so much we can do, so we have to make sure what we’re able to do hits them where it hurts.”

Blake swallowed hard, her ears flicking as she looked away- first to her mom, then to Weiss. She didn’t need to say the words for her to understand the thoughts going through her head but did anyway. “I understand. This is all or nothing.”

“We’re still trying to make it back, though.” Yang pointed out, her right hand curling into a fist atop her thigh. “This is no time to start thinking about throwing in the towel on the long game.”

“I know.” The Faunus straightened her posture, setting aside her concerns for the moment. “We’ve been preparing all our lives for this and there’s still plenty of work after we get back.” She blew out a short breath. “How should we approach?”

Getting down to the details hammered home the enormity of the task ahead of them. Not only would they need to dedicate the majority of their combined forces to the battle above ground but those who pushed through the facility would need to do so against staunch defenses. For a moment, she felt a tendril of doubt worm its way into her mind.

Atlas Command had stood as this ambiguous looming shadow in her mind’s eye for as long as she could remember, a far off place that spawned nothing but pain and nightmares- it almost seemed like something out of a fairytale. Too dark, too terrible to think it could really exist, despite the evidence of such literally surrounding her. But, now, she’d be facing it directly with the aim to take it all down, tearing at the seams until they came undone. It would take every ounce each of them had to give just to get that far, and then they’d need to get back, because even after cutting off the head of a snake, the poison of its bite could still kill, and there was no spot in all of Remnant they hadn’t sunk their fangs into by now.

“It’s natural to be scared.”

Blinking, she turned to look at Winter while the others continued questioning Terry about specific troop placements, the fleet formations, and which would be best way to tackle both while minimizing their losses. Blue eyes watched her with… patience, she thought, and understanding, though she tried her best to push down the doubts. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re a leader; you’re being strong for your soldiers.” Her eyes flicked over to the others. “But you’re also facing an impossible challenge and it’s only right to feel fear. It keeps you sharp and motivates you.”

She bit her lip, eyes flicking over to the others briefly. “Is it wrong that some part of me hopes we’ll pull this off without losing anyone?”

Raven used to roll her eyes about her optimism. Yang indulged it- to a point. The grim realities of their lives, their fight, their war often made it easier to acknowledge the difficulties and not mention the fallout until later. However, in the back of her mind, she always looked on the brighter side.

Winter remained silent, thoughtful, her own gaze pulled to her sister. “Yesterday, I would’ve said yes. Now, I’m beginning to see what hope has built.” Then, their eyes met. “Hope for the best. Be prepared for the worst. And remember that strength comes as much from within as those we surround ourselves with.” She chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t think I even dared to hope Weiss could have the same change of heart. Perhaps that she wouldn’t hate me or that we’d never meet as adversaries, but I didn’t think it possible to expect more than that, yet she’s here. And I’ve seen what you can do.”

“I’m not sure if that’ll be enough.” Reaching up, she brushed through her bangs, drawing a few fingers over her right eye. The power that dwelled within, although incredible, drained her considerably. She’d likely only have enough for what she planned upon reaching Atlas Command, which meant being unable to assist with the battle elsewhere.

“I am.” She looked back, seeing steely resolve in blue eyes. “I put my trust in you and, thus far, it’s worked out rather well. We may lose people, those dear to us, but if we go into this fight with the hope we might not… I think that’s something worth holding onto.”

Although she felt a certain amount of apprehension… she had to ask. “Is that how you felt at Azulen?”

A shadow passed over her expression as she looked down. “I can’t say I knew any of those soldiers half as well as you know your allies. I’d only been stationed in Vacuo for two months when the attack came, and I acted as reinforcements- the closest available unit to bolster the defenses against the largest rebel attack the te- kingdom had ever seen. Until recently, anyway.” Her hand started to rub along her left thigh, as if soothing away an old injury. “I’ve never been in fighting so fierce. A constant onslaught, bombardments, all manner of improvised weaponry- there was no training for it. No manner of preparing.” She squared her shoulders. “Ultimately, I came to a point where I could either admit defeat to myself or throw everything I had left into the fight. Honestly, pride motivated me then; I don’t think that’s what motivates you now.” She smiled. “And I think you’re stronger for it.”

Ruby’s lips curled. “So… you have hope, huh?”

“I do.”

“I guess that counts for something.” She turned her attention back to the conversation, having absently followed along with one ear.

“Are you sure?” Kali exchanged a look with her daughter. “I’m sure Ghira or I could come with you.”

Yang shook her head. “We’ve game planned this. With an idea of where we’re going, we’ll move quicker with few people. Ruby, Pyrrha, myself, and a few of our tribe- that’s all we need.”

“You decided who we’re taking?” Ruby probed, already compiling a list of who she wouldn’t want to take into an enclosed space like that.

“Vernal, Shay, the twins, and Jek- just enough to cover us when we have to get down and dirty.”

“Plus Winter,” she said, noting the quick flash across her sister’s eyes and continued talking to avoid finding out what, exactly, it meant. “If we encounter any issues with Atlesian tech, Winter should be able to either fix it or find us a workaround. Right?”

“If by ‘workaround’ you mean ‘break it’ then, yes, that’s fairly easy.” Her eyes flicked over to Terry. “I’m sure you can handle anything the main force encounters.”

They pressed their lips into a tight line. “You’re a fool for trying this.”

“And I’d be a coward if I didn’t,” she replied, and something unspoken passed between them again that forced Terry to look away first.

“Then that’s all we need- a quick strike team while you draw the attention topside.” Ruby ignored the squabble for the moment and pressed her lips into a thin line. “When we succeed, we’ll deal a major blow to Atlas. With their command structure compromised, our friends in Vacuo and Vale stand a good chance of liberating large parts of their kingdoms. Here in Mistral, we’ll have the biggest challenge, but there’s a chance Menagerie will be free when you get back there, too. Three out of four isn’t a bad outcome.”

“What will you do for Mistral?” Weiss looked over at her sister briefly but Winter remained silent. Obviously, she believed what happened with the kingdom didn’t rely on her input and so withheld it.

Yang had some thoughts, though. “We go back to the tribelands. Consolidate our forces, then push back out. Try to get as many of the Atlesians who were born here to join up with us instead of being recruited to replace those lost elsewhere. Reinstate the city-states and unify them under Ruby for the time being.”

“Then, we hope Atlas retreats.” She didn’t think it would happen, of course. Atlas would dig their claws in even deeper and fight to the bloody end. However, as long as they stood their ground in Mistral, Atlas wouldn’t try for Vacuo, Vale, and Menagerie. Once they’d built themselves back up, then Mistral would have allies to call upon for the fight. “Or we hold our ground until they do.”

Silence descended upon them until Blake’s ears twitched. “So. Tomorrow at dawn?”

“Unless you want to start early.” Ruby checked the single working scroll they still had. “One way or another, we have to be heading to Atlas by midday tomorrow.”

With a nod, she turned to her mother. “Let everyone know they have six hours to rest. We’ll move out as a forward advance ahead of everyone else.”

As everyone got to their feet- Terry, Weiss, and Winter being a bit slow, on account of their legs being asleep- Kali stepped around the maps to draw the latter into an embrace that entirely caught the woman off guard. Which… seemed to be something of a trend, now that she thought about it.

“Uh.” Winter looked over to her, as if expecting either assistance or an explanation, and received neither. Ruby just smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ma’am?”

“In such turbulent times, we must take joy in the little victories while we can,” Kali replied, her ears laying back. “Weiss and Blake have been worried sick over this whole ordeal, not being sure of where, exactly, your loyalties lay or if you were alive. We hadn’t hoped for this good of an outcome.” When she pulled away, she had that same warm smile that had always brought a bit of comfort, even from an ocean away. “But now that it’s here, I want you to know that we’re glad to have you.”

“Thank you.” Although confused, the woman seemed to take it in stride, offering a small smile and looking towards her sister.

“Well aren’t you two peas in a pod.” Yang chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “One’s glad to see the enemy on our side and the other’s not holding a grudge over an assassination attempt.”

“Assassination attempt?” Weiss quirked a brow. “What assassination attempt?”

Ruby immediately looked at Blake. “You didn’t tell her?”

“In my defense-”

“Wait, who-”

“Weiss.” Winter’s voice brooked no argument as she gently extricated herself from Kali’s hug to scoop up her mask. “We can discuss the matter outside.”

“But.”

“Now.” Ruby watched as the woman brushed past her sister, who quickly grabbed her own mask and fastened it into place before following Winter out of the tent, Terry hot on their heels while putting on their helmet.

Yang put a hand to her face and sighed. “Blakey.”

“I was going to tell her.” Feline ears twitched as she grimaced. “I just wanted to know the outcome before I did. She was already worried sick about coming here, knowing her sister would be scrambling to stop us- I didn’t want her worrying over whether or not to mourn for her. Even… even if she believes in our cause just as we do, she’s turning against everything she knows. It’s a lot of pressure-”

“That’s no excuse to keep a secret like that.” Kali chided, shaking her head. “I understand you were trying to spare her pain but this could’ve gone terribly. How were you going to look her in the eye and explain that you ordered the death of her sister?”

“I know it doesn’t paint me in a good light but I made the best decision for our people, Mom.” Although it obviously pained her to argue, Blake stood tall and met her gaze evenly. “If I gambled on Winter turning, everyone in Menagerie would pay for me being wrong. As much as I wanted to believe, I couldn’t take it on blind faith that the Colonel wouldn’t follow through with the order.” Then her gaze shifted to Ruby, almost pleading. “It’s like I told you.”

She nodded, even if the words tasted awful on her tongue. “I didn’t believe for a second she’d actually do it but I don’t blame Blake for not wanting to take that risk. Neither does Winter.”

“As someone who has watched Atlas’ march across Remnant, I know you did the right thing.” She frowned. “But as a mother, I raised you better than to keep secrets from someone who sacrificed much to help us.”

Yang hummed, shaking her head, seeing a bit of familiarity in Blake’s skepticism and caution. “Not to… put too fine a point on it, Mom, but I definitely thought you would’ve been on our side about this. At the time, could we really trust either of them not to turn against us?”

“Could we?” Kali started towards the tent flap. “At the time, could they do anything other than what they did? Following the orders handed down to them?” She paused, turning back to look at them. “They chose to take a gamble and put their faith in us. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to discount the risks they’ve taken as well.” Her gaze slid to Yang. “There was a time when we wouldn’t have trusted Raven but the only way we got this far was by recognizing which gambles are worth taking.”

Blake chuckled. “I guess this is why Ruby’s the leader.”

“From what I’ve heard, Summer had the same intuition.” A soft laugh. “It drove Raven crazy.”

“Yeah. I know,” Ruby replied, proud that she’d lived up to her mother’s example in some small way. “She mentioned it a few times.”

Kali nodded. “Blake, I expect you to talk to Weiss about this, and soon. She’s likely upset we traveled all this way and her sister might have been dead this whole time.”

“I will.” Her ears drooped. “Um… you… wouldn’t happen to have any tips, would you?”

“Leader of the White Fang, absolutely hates confrontation.” Yang rolled her eyes and walked over, throwing her arm around the Faunus’ shoulders. “C’mere, you. I’ll help ya out.”

Ruby watched them go, surprised by the silence that followed. With their camp now full of tribemates, freedom fighters, White Fang, and the Atlesian defectors, it should’ve be like this, but most were hardened veterans of guerrilla fighting or soldiers trained to be ready at a moment’s notice and rest whenever possible.

It really drove home how close they were to the point of no return.

Winter led her sister away from the tents, towards one of the steep canyon walls that threw their encampment in shadows. The shattered moon had risen, casting light on the far side, but it would be an hour or two more before it shone down on them. All the better to keep them hidden, for the time being, anyway.

“I’m sorry for pulling you out like that,” she said, turning around to look at Weiss’ obvious hurt and confusion. “But I need you to understand she made the right call. Killing me and Terry would’ve been the only way to slow the genocide of the Faunus people.”

“How can you just… be so flippant about it?” Then she shook her head, her shoulders sagging. “I mean… I know you’re right, that Blake is- I understand that from a logical perspective, she did the only thing that seemed like it might work to protect thousands, but…”

“But I’m your sister.” Her expression softened. “You’ve always been softer at heart.”

Instantly, she grimaced, turning away. “I know. Mother-”

“Was wrong.” Winter finished, her voice strong and causing the woman to look back at her over her shoulder. “Mother drilled both of us, trained us to harden ourselves against suffering- it wasn’t to make us better people. It was to make us blind to what repercussions our actions wrought.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I don’t know if it was intentional on her part. I don’t know if she even realizes what we’ve done to Remnant. All I know is that she believes, with her whole being, that she’s doing what is right and just. She’s dedicated her life to it.” She gestured between them. “And we were raised to walk in her footsteps. How could we expect anyone else to think differently of us? How could we think differently of ourselves?”

Weiss turned around, looking first at her own uniform and then at the white cloak adorning her shoulders. “I… suppose you have a point.” Then she swallowed. “You issued a mass mobilization order. You knew I’d likely be coming to Mistral.”

Her jaw tightened. “And I ordered to have you detained. Along with the others.”

She nodded, lightly touching the rapier at her side. She wore it on her left- just like her big sister, despite wielding with her left- and her voice held a tremor of grief when she spoke. “I told Blake I would stay behind in Mistral while the rest went to attack Atlas Command.”

Winter nodded. “To buy them time.”

“Yes.” She quickly continued. “It’s not that I wanted to fight you-”

A hand stopped her as she closed the distance and pulled her sister into a hug- here, away from most prying eyes, where affection could be freely given. “I’m proud of you. It would’ve been the hardest thing you would ever do, but I have no doubt you would’ve fought me to the death to protect them.”

“Do you think… Mother…”

“Yes.” She rested her chin atop her sister’s head and smoothed a hand down her back in an attempt to soothe her. “For all their strengths, Mother’s semblance is perfected. If I am not there to meet her, to stall her, they will not succeed.” A shuddering breath. “She will try to kill me, Weiss. She might very well succeed.” She cleared her throat, strengthening her resolve. “But I will try to come back. I promised Ruby that.”

Belatedly, she recognized the slip- their masks were on, they were outside the tent- but didn’t bother correcting herself as her sister clung to her. “What if… you succeed?”

A deep breath. “I’ll have to kill her. If she doesn’t ally with us, I can’t let her continue down her path.” She pulled back and looked down, meeting her sister’s eyes beyond their masks. “One way or another, blood will be shed. You’ll lose either a sister or a mother, Weiss. I’m sorry.”

Her expression cracked and crumbled, head bowing until she buried it in Winter’s chest and cried silent tears. Her elder sister said nothing of the tusks digging into her, putting the mild annoyance aside to comfort her. But when she pulled away, quickly wiping at her face, the sorrow was buried under a steely sort of resolve, the fierceness they were known for showing plainly in her face. Nothing could obscure it.

“You promised Ruby you’d try to come back?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me, too.” For a brief moment, she wavered, before solidifying her voice. “When we return to Mistral, we’ll have a lot of work to do, you and I.”

“Indeed we will.” They separated, stepping back and regarding one another. “You should see about wearing something different. These uniforms no longer suit us.”

“You’re right.” Weiss nodded. “I’ll talk to Bl- Cat about it.”

“Good.” Winter hesitated, briefly. “I meant what I said; I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud, too.” She smiled. “Even when everyone doubted you’d do the right thing, you did.”

The expression was returned. “Get some rest. We’ve a long day ahead of us.” As her sister left, her expression fell to one of resigned annoyance, turning to scan the area around them. There weren’t many places to hide, of course, but Terry didn’t earn their position by being obvious about anything. “Come out; I know you followed us.”

“It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop. This time, anyway.” They pushed themselves up, having laid in a particularly deep shadow and allowing their uniform to blend into the rocks around them. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re both possessed of the same stupid idea, should I?”

“If you stopped thinking as my friend, you’d see it’s the sensible option,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need to win; I simply need to stall. Allow Rose and the others to reach the Command building. From there, I am confident they can slip away while Mother attempts damage control. It’s protocol-”

“Don’t quote regulation to me while telling everyone else you’re going to try to come back.” They spat, frustrated with her grasp on the situation. “You’ve no exit strategy. In fact, if I don’t miss my guess, you’ve got it into your fool head that you’re going to talk some sense into that woman.”

Hope for the best, she thought wryly. “You think I can’t.”

“I know you can’t.” Terry raised their arms, as if they wanted to reach out and strangle her, but dropped them a moment later with a sigh. “You’ve made your choice.”

“I have.”

They straightened up, and she could picture the look on their face right then, despite their helmet’s face plate. “You’re dedicated to it.”

“Yes.”

“And you honestly believe- with as stubborn as you’re being- that your Mother will be anything less?”

“I never said it was a good plan.” A sigh left her lips. “I’m sorry. I wish there was some other way.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Their shoulders dropped. “I’ll be embedded with Flynt’s unit. We’ve volunteered to be the tip of the spear.”

“I’m not sure if you should really be chiding me for martyrdom, then,” she said, a quirk coming to her lips. “You’re going to draw a lot of attention. You’ve been stationed at Atlas Command for quite a while; everyone knows who you are.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been following your lead this far, might as well see how far it goes.” They shrugged. “Besides. It’s about time I put myself back in a fight. Hopefully we can spar a little on the way there.”

“Considering what we did to my office, I’m not sure that is such a good idea.” However, she nodded all the same. “We both need our rest, though. We might be able to work something out.”

“Especially if we get your flagship.” Terry turned, heading back into the camp. “Take your own advice, Wolf. Get some sleep.”

Winter nodded, heading back to the tent to find it mostly empty. Only Ruby and her sister remained, the latter collecting up the maps and stowing them away while the former…

“She nodded off a few minutes ago,” Yang said, her voice soft but warm as she looked over and smiled. “She’s going to need it.” With her chin resting against her chest, the leader of the resistance sat leaning against the small table set up to one side, where most of the maps were placed to keep them out of the way. “Try not to wake her, yeah?”

Blue eyes flicked over to the bedroll. “Is she a light sleeper?”

“Nah. That’d be me.” A smile curled her lips. “If you bunk down, both of you can grab a few hours’ rest.” She turned, heading out of the tent. “I’ll come grab you two when it’s time. Just turn down the lamp; we’re trying to conserve dust.”

Winter waited until she’d left before carefully making her way over to Ruby’s sleeping form. While she didn’t doubt the woman had learned to sleep in all manner of awkward positions- even in chains, as she winced at the memory- it wouldn’t do to simply leave her there. Carefully, she reached up and undid the fastener keeping her cloak in place, then eased her arms beneath Ruby’s knees and behind her back. Small as she was, she weighed practically nothing, and Winter carried her easily over to the bed roll and laid her down. Retrieving the cloak, she used it as a blanket for the woman and turned down the lamp as asked, ready to take the spot by the table now that it was free.

But a low, soft whimper caught her attention, and she looked over to see Ruby fidgeting in her sleep. A bad dream, perhaps.

With a frown, Winter went over and knelt down, mainly to see if perhaps a rock or something was digging into her back to cause the discomfort, but the moment she got close enough, Ruby’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of the white cloak.

“Yang?” Silver eyes cracked open, her voice thick from sleep as she started sitting up.

“She’s gone to rest. You should, too.” Lightly, she freed the cloak from her hand and gently pushed Ruby back down. “Tomorrow, there will be little time for it.”

“There’s still a lot to do-”

“It will keep,” she said firmly, laying down beside the bedroll on her side, using her mask as a makeshift pillow. “Try to sleep.” For a moment, it looked like her advice might not be heeded, so she gently prodded. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Something like that.” Ruby sighed, shifting slightly before rolling onto her side, so they could see each other in the dim light. “It’s… probably just nerves. Right?”

“Most likely.” An idea occurred to her then. “Close your eyes.”

“But-”

“Trust me.”

After a moment, she did as requested and Winter began to sing- a song she’d learned in her youth, a very old battle march from some ancient part of Mantle, passed down through the ages in a tongue very few could even understand, much less speak. When she was young, she found it in an old book tucked away in the family library, and sounded out the words as best she could. It probably sounded like gibberish, but she’d determined the ebb and flow of the song on her own, and it soothed her whenever she sang it. Hopefully, it would have the same effect.

To her surprise, it did, as the next time Ruby spoke, her words came out slurred together and she didn’t open her eyes. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Believe it or not, I’m more than just a soldier.” A brief chuckle. “I think even I’d forgotten that at some point.”

Something probably followed- a half formed word leaving her lips- but the woman dropped into unconsciousness a few moments later, her breathing deep and even. Just to be safe, though, Winter sang the song again, allowing the melody to ease her own anxieties as well.

She likely wouldn’t have another chance.

#Winter Rose #dystopian au #TRR writes

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 7 years ago

Text

The Rumors That Made Her

Title: The Rumors That Made Her

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 4041

Summary: High School Senior, Dean Winchester, tries to get the girl, but according to rumors, she’s “broken.” When he tries to form a relationship with her, he finds things about her that no one else does.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Under Aged Drinking, Mention of Death, High School Bullshit, Slight Language (nothing major), Mention of PTSD, Some Fluff.

A/N: This is my entry for Manda’s (@pinknerdpanda) 1k Challenge! Congratulations of the milestone, love! You are a crazy talented writer, not to mention, incredibly adorable! My prompt for this challenge was the 90’s Alternative Rock song, Push by Matchbox 20. I love this song so much. This fic is based on MY interpretation of the song FOR this specific fic. Lyrics used in the story will be italicized. This fic is all in Dean’s POV. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Gif not mine. Found on Google.

There she is, sitting alone as usual. I could never understand how she was always alone. She’s beautiful, funny, and she has this smile she rarely shows that literally takes my breath away. She was perfect. I should totally talk to her. This is going to the day that I finally approach her and, if I’m lucky, possibly be friends with her, and see that smile again.

Standing up from my chair, I was about to make my way over when Gordon stopped me. “No man, she’s not one of us. That’s not how things work.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Dean, you’re popular, the quarterback on the football team, and she’s an outsider, a loser. You hang out with her and you’ll lose everything. I mean you already got that freak over there hanging out with us,” he pointed towards Garth who casted his eyes down in guilt.

“That’s ridiculous, why would it matter who I want to hang out with? Garth is good guy,” I told him.

“Yeah, whatever. Remember Benny Laffite a few years ago? He was a senior when we were freshmen? He was the big star quarterback and then he went and dated that freaky goth chick who believed that vampires were real and he lost everything.”

“Yeah, I remember Benny and I don’t remember that happening. What I do remember is that he got his girl and had never been happier.”

“Yeah, well he could have been a star! Playing for the NFL and winning Super Bowls, but no. He’s stuck in this god forsaken town raising two kids alone.”

That was it. Gordon was a grade-A douche bag and I couldn’t hold back anymore. Without thinking, I swung my arm back and came charging forward, my fist making contact with his face. All eyes were now on us as some of our friends shot out of their seats trying to calm us down.

“Dean, calm down,” Cass stepped in front of me, two others from the football team helping Gordon off the floor.

“What’s your problem, Winchester?!” Gordon shouted, his face twisted with anger and confusion.

“His wife died from Cancer you dick!” I spat. Gordon had no right to judge Benny like that. Hell, I didn’t really know the guy, but I knew enough, and he was a good man. Respectful, humble, and a hardworking single father. I see him working at Harvelle’s almost everyday, pulling double shifts, even the graveyard shifts to support his daughters, hell, he even gave Sam some lunch money after a group of bullies stole his.

My eyes shifted around the room, glancing at the audience we’ve accumulated, when I caught a glimpse of her. Y/N was staring at us, watching me humiliate myself. Our eyes met and I noticed her flinch before scurrying off. Why did she always do that? She used to be so carefree, friendly, and was always surrounded by people.

“She’s broken,” I heard Gordon say, returning my attention back to my so called friend.

“What are you talking about, broken?” I questioned, genuinely thrown to what he meant.

“She’s a whore, Dean-o. She’s gone out with a lot of college dudes, man, and dumped every time. College dudes,” he reiterated, adding emphasis on the last two words he spoke. “She’s not interested in guys like us, she –”

Before he could say another word, I interrupted. “No, not us. She’s not interested in guys like you.”

Completely done associating with Gordon for the day, I made my way around Cass, grabbed my backpack and walked out, having lost my appetite. I ignored Cass and the other’s calling my name, sending Sammy, who was now a freshman, a small smile before leaving the lunch room. Just as I walked through the cafeteria entrance, I jumped a little not expecting anyone to be standing outside, leaning against the wall, but there she was.

“Y/N.” She looked up at me with tears welling in her eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” I walked up to her and asked.

“Who was he talking about?” She questioned.

“Gordon? He was just talking about Benny Laffit-”

“No. Not about him… the girl.” My heart began to race. She heard us talking. “He was looking at me. Was he talking about me? Calling me a whore and saying that I’m broken?” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, hey. Don’t listen to him. I know that you’re not like that,” I tried to assure her.

“That’s not what you think but that’s what everyone else does. It’s rumors like that that keeps people away from me,” she confessed. “I used to have friends until my ex-boyfriend, who was a freshman in college, just a few years older than us, dumped me. He spread a rumor that I was a slut who banged all his friends. When everything hit the roof, the rumors became bent and twisted and suddenly, I’m known as the school whore and all my friends ditched me. And you know what’s worse? None of it is true! You want to know the real truth?” She shouted. My eyes widened at her outburst. She sighed when she realized she was getting a little riled up. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Its people like Gordon that keeps spreading and reminding people of those lies!”

I was at a lost for words. I had never known her story before and now here she was, confessing things, speaking more than I have ever heard her say to me or anyone in a long time. I had no idea that any of that happened to her. Sure, I’ve heard the rumors, but that’s all they were to me. Rumors.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” I apologized, not really knowing what for. Was I saying sorry for Gordon and his douche-ness, or was I apologizing for what that jerk did to her, or maybe both?

“Save it. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to justify myself to you. See you around, Dean.”

As she turned to leave, walking down the hall, I was about to run after her when Cass appeared, along with Chuck, Gabe, and Garth.

“You okay Dean?” Chuck questioned.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

It was finally the last period of the day, which happened to be my favorite class even if it was my worst subject… art class. I sucked at art, but the reason why it was my favorite was because Y/N was in my class. She sat right beside me, always doodling and scribbling things down in her notebook.

When I walked in, I noticed that she wasn’t in class. I was pretty sure she was always the first one in, but today she wasn’t there. I just stood in the middle of the classroom lost in my thoughts wondering where she could be.

“Mr. Winchester, care to join us?” Mr. Colt questioned.

“Um, actually, I’m not feeling well, I’m going to check in with the school nurse.” I could tell that Mr. Colt was going to say something but I was gone before he could.

I searched through the halls thinking of places she could be, until I saw her with the corner of my eyes, walking through the school doors.

“Hey! Y/N, wait up!” I called out once I made it outside. She quickly whipped around, eyes widening when she saw me.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Same as you,” I replied.

“I’m not feeling well, so I’m heading home.”

“Yeah, me either, it must have been the school lunch. Want me to give you a lift?”

“What do you want Dean?” Her question caught me off guard.

“N-Nothing,” I stammered.

“Yeah, then why are you here right now, offering me a ride home?” She crossed her arms, eyes boring into mine as if she was looking into my soul.

“Uh…”

“Goodbye Dean.”

“It’s because I like you alright!” I blurted. The words just slipped out.

Her body tensed as she slowly turned in my directions for the second time. Her expression was a mix of shock and disbelief.

“D-Dean, you heard Gordon, I’m broken. I’m a whore! So why don’t you just leave me alone and maybe I can get back to being invisible.”

“That’s not true.”

“The world will think what it wants to think, Dean.”

“Well, that’s not what I think. I think that you need someone to believe in you. You need someone who knows the truth about you and I want to be that person. So let me bring you home and if it’s alright with you, I’d really like to know what really happened.”

I could see it in her eyes, she was surprised at my forwardness, hell, I was surprised at myself. I was never one to be good with words, hence the D minus I was getting in English class, but here I was, shamelessly telling the girl I’ve got a crush on that I wanted to get to know her, the real her.

The silence was starting to become a little awkward, but thankfully she broke it. “What do you mean that you’d like to know what really happened?”’

“During lunch, you asked if I wanted to know the real truth, and well, yeah, I do. I really do,” I admitted, my stare holding hers. I wasn’t going to back down.

“Fine,” she sighed, but I could tell she was hesitant about all of this.

Hopping into my impala, I texted Cass telling him I was leaving early, before bringing Baby to life and heading over to her place. The whole drive to her house was spent in silence. She didn’t say a word and I was shitting bricks trying to come up with a conversation starter but I was so nervous. Usually, I was pretty smooth with the ladies, but with her, I felt like no matter what I did, she could see right through me.

I parked in front of her house, turning off the ignition. She didn’t leave, instead she sat in the car staring straight ahead. What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? C’mon Dean, think you lug head!

“Could we just drive around some more?” Her voice was soft, hesitant, scared.

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you want,” I told her, starting up the car.

We drove for a while until a thought popped into my head. I cursed inwardly at myself for not thinking of it sooner.

Driving for a couple of hours we finally made it into Lebanon. My grandfather, Henry Winchester, a former Navy Seal, suffered from PTSD and, out of paranoia, built a bunker in an old abandoned power plant. He specifically called it the Men of Letters, apparently that was the name of his brigade.

“Where are we?” Y/N inquired, scanning the area through the window.

“I come here once in a while to think. It’s a safe house that my grandfather built before he passed away.”

“Why did he build it?” She twisted her head so that our eyes met.

I explained the story of my grandfather and she seemed to be genuinely fascinated and later eager to see inside. I couldn’t help but smile, it was rare to see her so lively and enthusiastic. I had only seen it a handful of times when we’d be paired up for an art project. She loved to draw, paint, ceramics, do anything creative with her hands.

Hey hype had faded quickly, now uncertain about entering due to it’s darkness, however I guaranteed her that we would be okay and that this was a safe place. When she stepped in, I along with her, I flipped the light switch and the bunker came into view. I chuckled when she gasped.

“This is amazing,” she breathed, descending the staircase.

After a quick tour and a brief history of the place, we settled in the library to, hopefully, finally talk, however she remained silent again.

“You can trust me,” I assured. She nodded before taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

“I know.” Pause. “It all happened last year, when Arthur went to the University of Kansas, on a full ride football scholarship.”

“Wait, Arthur as in Arthur Ketch?” I questioned. The guy was a total tool. He gave me hell for 2 years for being the only freshman to join the Varsity football team.

“Unfortunately. Anyways, he had brought me to one of his frat house parties and halfway through the night, I got drunk, not wanting to seem like a loser in front of his friends, then found him sucking face with another girl. When I approached him, he dumped me, and…” she fell silent, unsure if she could trust me, or unsure if she was ready to let the truth out.

“You can trust me.” Her deep colored eyes met mine, fear, sadness, pain, and all sorts of emotions stirring inside of them. “What is it?”

“And his friends, they…”

Rage started to bubble in me. I wasn’t certain what was about to come out of her mouth next but I could only assume based on what she had said so far. Young, vulnerable, intoxicated, surrounded by drunk college guys… “Did they touch you?” My question came out as a growl, her body wincing at the sound, but when she didn’t give an answer, that was enough for me to understand that those bastards deserved to rot in hell.

After that day, regardless of all the noise going around the school, I continued to stick around Y/N, and eventually she started to grow somewhat comfortable around my real friends, but it was easy to tell that she was holding back, like she knew she could trust them but at the same time, she wouldn’t let herself.

One night I was at home, hanging out with my brother and my friends up in my bedroom. We were goofing around playing video games and other guy stuff. I had originally wanted to go to the bunker with Y/N again, but she had told me that she was busy with family stuff.

The guys and I were having a good time, when my phone beeped, announcing that I had gotten a text message. I flipped my phone open to see who it was and immediately groaned when I saw the name. Gordon. What could he possibly want from me?

Gordon: Hey, I see your girl here at Bela Talbot’s party. I think she’s about to live up to her reputation!

I snapped my phone shut, unwilling to believe him. Y/N was with her family, she told me herself, and what the hell would she be doing at Bela Talbot’s house? She was 4 years older than us! Not only that, what the hell was Gordon doing at a college party?

My phone beeped again, Gordon’s name on the screen once again. Curious to what he had to say, I clicked on the text only to see a picture of Y/N dancing with some random guy who had his filthy hands on her.

Without a word, I stormed out of my room, the guys calling after me confused. They all followed, hopping into the car. Sam jumped in the middle of the front seat while Cass took up the passenger seat and the other guys filling the back.

Pulling up to Bela’s house, the party was in full swing. “I need someone to stay in the car and watch Sammy.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” Garth offered with no hesitation. He hated parties like this so it wasn’t a surprise when he opted to stay behind.

I walked into the party with purpose, Cass, Chuck, and Gabe behind me.

“Dean, guys, glad you could make it! There’s your girl,” Gordon snickered, pointing a finger with the hand that held a red cup, clearly filled with alcohol.

My eyes instantly landed on her. She was grinding up against some random douche with a drink in her hand. What the hell was she doing coming to a place like this? I was not expecting this, nor were the guys, who shared uneasy looks.

“Y/N!” I shouted over the blaring music, gaining her attention. She sent me a lazy grin, obviously affected by the alcohol she must had consumed.

“What are you doing here?” She slurred, stumbling away from the guy she was dancing with and over to me. Her hands played with the opening of my flannel a little before she started swaying her hips to the song playing.

“I could be asking you the same question,” I retorted, holding her forearms to keep her still.

“I’m taking my mind off things,” she giggled, taking a sip of her alcoholic beverage, but I yanked the cup away before she could. “Hey, what’s the big idea!” She snapped, glaring at me.

“You said you had family stuff to take care of.”

“And I took care of it! Things just got way out of control and I needed to clear my head. What’s it to you anyways? You’re not my boyfriend!” She snapped, hitting the cup from my hand, it’s contents splashing on me and other’s around. “Go home, Dean.”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes and walked away but I wasn’t about to give up so easily, so I followed her. It was obvious that she was trying to lose me but it wasn’t happening.

“Dean, seriously. Back off. Don’t you remember? I’m a slut,” she giggled, although her smile portrayed hopelessness, as if she had given up.

“No, you’re not.”

“But I am, watch me.” A random guy passed by when she pulled him by the arm, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him to her level, pressing her lips against his. The guy was shocked, but it didn’t take him long until he had his hands all over her, kissing her back with just as much heat.

She knew how to press my buttons. She knew how to mess with my head and in a moment of rage, I let the words fall passed my lips. “You know what, if this is who you want to be, then suit yourself. I’m leaving,” I stumbled back, unable to believe she would do something like that. In school she was intelligent, quiet, and to herself, here and now, she was like every other party girl in school.

As I turned my back towards her, she shouted over the music. “I’m not good enough, Dean. They always leave!”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, bringing me back to right mind. She told me her story, she told me the truth, and the more I got to know her, I began to realize that she wasn’t broken, she was just hurt. So hurt that she didn’t know if she could trust anyone again. Ketch was her first love, her first serious relationship, her first everything… could I blame her for thinking she was broken? To blame her for feeling betrayed, hurt?, and for acting out? No, I couldn’t.

“That’s it, I’m taking you home,” I said to her, before rushing over and throwing her over my shoulder. She screamed and kicked, her fists making contact with my back as she wiggled in protest, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to leave her here to get drunk and who knows what else might happen.

“Put me down, I don’t want to leave!” She yelled, causing a scene.

“No, I’m taking you home.” People were laughing, cheering, while others gave me sympathetic grins, nodding with assurance that I was doing the right thing, and I was. I was taking care of her ass.

Leaving the house, I saw Cass and the others already waiting outside by the impala. When we reached them, I set her down, steadying her on her feet when she stumbled a bit. “Hey guys, are we having our own party?” She smiled, giving everyone a high-five, even Sammy, who happily returned it. I sent him a glare making him retreat further back into the car.

Most of the car ride back home was quite after Y/N quickly fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I dropped the guys off one by one until we got back to our place, after she stubbornly refused to go to hers. Sammy rushed to the door, opening it as I carried Y/N bridal style into the house and into my bedroom. Our parents were still out at my mother’s company party, so an explanation would have to wait till morning.

Gently setting her on my bed, she stirred awake. “Where am I?” She asked, her eyes heavy as she glanced up at me before scanning her surroundings.

“My place.”

“Mmm, you really like classic rock and cowboys,” she hummed with an ephemeral smile, curling herself on my bed, her face buried deep in one of my pillows. I sighed, not knowing what to do. Dealing with her was exhausting, but I know she has her reasons. I just don’t understand why she has to constantly push me away. I like the girl so much that I feel like I’m going crazy, but I know that I can’t rush this. It was going to take time to get her to trust people, let people in, let me in.

I was about to leave the room when she called out for me, the sound of my name on her tongue tickling the butterflies in my stomach. Her voice was soft, weak, and the tiredness prevalent. Turning around, I walked back over to my bed, taking a seat at the edge next to her. She was embarrassed, that was easy to tell. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes watching her hands as she fiddled with the edge of my blanket. “It’s just…” she stopped herself, unsure about what she was going to say.

“Hey, you can trust me. You can tell me anything.” I shifted so that I was facing more towards her.

She sighed, cautiously shuffling herself into an upright position, her back leaning against the headboard. “It’s just… I do like you. It’s just, I’m a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been really loved by a hand that’s touched me, and I feel like something’s gonna give, and I’m a little but angry,” She confessed. “So I’m sorry for pushing you and taking you for granted.”

“Hey, I get it.”

“And I’m sorry for lying to you. I just kinda fell apart, things get so crazy. I understand if you could never trust me again, and if you don’t want to stay with me, I mean I’ve got this reputation and now I guess you can say that my face, it’s a little bit dirty.”

“You’re not broken or dirty, you’ve just been hurt. We can take this slow, there’s no need to rush, and I’m not the type to stand around either, I’m gonna tell you every day how perfect you are. No matter how much you push me away, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, you just have to give me a chance.”

Once again, like every other time, when silence took over, everything became louder. The beating of my heart, my breathing, I could hear all of it pounding in my ears, trying to think of something to say or waiting for her to break the air.

“Okay, I will.”

After everything was laid out on the table, we just stared at each other. She was so close that I could see my reflection in her eyes. My vision fell to her lips as she licked them, my breath hitching in my throat. How I wanted to relieve my imagination and find out for myself just how soft her lips were. My eyes fluttered back to hers only to see that they were casted downwards to my own mouth, and suddenly, our lips connected.

She could push me all she wanted but I wasn’t going anywhere if it meant this kiss, her touch, her everything would be mine. I was going to be there for her every step of the way while her scars healed, with me as her glue.

Tell Me What You Thought! :)

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fingersinhisass · 7 years ago

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bc carly @aldmerii humored me and answered all 60 questions of the oc question thing for shaelle, i’m gonna do it for al as well even tho literally no one asked so. here goes!

1. WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S BIGGEST FEAR?

having his friends, people he’s grown to trust and care for, discover all the bad shit he did in the past and basically breaking all ties with him. he’s terrified they’ll think he’s a monster bc well. he thinks he’s a monster sometimes too

2. WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE MEMORY?

it’s not one specific memory exactly, more like. a mix of lots of memories. in the summer he used to play outside all day with the other kids who lived in his neighborhood (very poor, pretty decrepit houses, mostly dust and dying grass) and like. those were some of the best times for him? because he was still too young to care that their family didn’t have enough money to send him to school, or that all of his clothes were hand-me-downs with at least one tear that had been fixed, or that his mother’s face was worn with wrinkles that would better suit someone much older than she was. so he’d play pretend with these kids in his neighborhood, and go on “adventures” and kick around pebbles and wrestle in the dirt, and then he’d come back home to his mother calling him, and she’d wash his face and feet and hands gently and tuck him into bed and he’d fall asleep under the heat to the sound of her soft voice and the insects buzzing in the grass.

3. WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE MEMORY?

he’s got plenty to pick from, so i don’t think there’s one specific worst. but the gazes of people he willfully hurt, potentially even killed, really haunt him. he tries not to think about the stuff he did when he was younger.

4. DOES ANYONE HAVE A CRUSH ON YOUR CHARACTER? IS YOUR CHARACTER AWARE OF THIS?

my beautiful girl shaelle do,,,, and also this one demon dude they helped once. can’t remember his name bc he’s a pretty irrelevant npc. he was aware of that crush, but he has no fucking clue shaelle likes him

5: DESCRIBE YOUR CHARACTER’S DREAM DATE.

oh man. anything romantic that would make his date happy. it’s cliche, but he’s fond of long walks and candlelit dinners. he’s an exceptionally hopeless romantic.

6: WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION?

lol what’s that????? al likes a lot of people he’s not picky. he’s actually kinda lowkey a ho.

7: HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT THEIR NAME?

my boi gots lotsa names. his birth name makes him nostalgic, but he doesn’t really attach it to himself anymore -- the only person who can call him that is his mother. the name he used when he was a thief he absolutely despises. he still twitches if he hears it spoken, regardless of if it’s pointed towards him or not. he picked the name he has now himself, so he likes it quite a bit thank you very much. it makes him feel like a distinguished human gentleman. he’s a fucking doof.

8: DOES YOUR CHARACTER HATE ANYONE? WHY?

al is not someone who hates easily. he trusts easily (too stupid to learn from his past mistakes, he’d remark bitterly, but really it’s because he’s an idealist by nature and wants to believe people are inherently good). he doesn’t respond well to betrayal. at all. he accidentally punched a dude to death once for betraying the group. to be fair, the dude was really fucking old, and he only had one hit point left and failed all his death saves so like. not really al’s fault. you woulda done it too if you were in the same situation

9: HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT RELIGION?

neither of his parents are very religious, and he wasn’t raised religious either, so it doesn’t really matter to him all that much

10. WOULD YOUR CHARACTER EVER KILL SOMEONE?

yes, but only if he felt it was justified and there were no better options. he is strongly against killing people who he feels don’t deserve it, but there are some people he would kill without hesitation solely because he believes their death will benefit many others. he’s got. complicated morals.

11: HOW DID YOUR CHARACTER MEET THEIR BEST FRIEND?

he met borem when they were assigned to be partners. they’re both detectives. although not sure how long that friendship is gonna last now...............

12: HOW WOULD/DOES YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT ROLLER COASTERS?

terrified. hates heights. don’t make him do this.

13: WHAT WOULD YOUR CHARACTER DIE FOR?

people he loves. easy.

14: WHAT IS THE CUTEST THING YOUR CHARACTER HAS EVER DONE?

when is my boy not cute, honestly???? idk, i can’t pin down a specific instance. but he’s like. super blushy and awkward around people he’s romantically attracted to, and that’s incredibly adorable. he took shaelle to the prison where her brother was being held so they could see each other again after ten years, and that was also very sweet

15: WHAT MUSIC GENRE WOULD YOUR CHARACTER LISTEN TO?

fuck, idk. he strikes me as the kind of person to just listen to whatever’s on. he doesn’t have a very developed taste in music

16: WHAT OTHER FICTIONAL CHARACTERS REMIND YOU OF YOUR CHARACTER?

jeez. probably gumshoe from ace attorney? mostly because they’re both good good detective boys just trying to do their best and i love both of them desperately.

17: DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE ANY IRRATIONAL FEARS?

heights!!! he hates heights!!!!! which is funny bc his acrobatics score is insane.

18: HOW WOULD YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT HAVING THEIR LIFE RECORDED?

it would make him supremely uncomfortable. he may be very social, but when it comes to his home life he’s intensely private.

19: WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S DEEPEST, DARKEST SECRET?

he gots lotsa those. he’s stolen very important things that resulted in the detriment of others, he’s tortured and killed people, he’s aided in drug trafficking and human trafficking -- with children. which is when he quit, because he couldn’t stand that. he hates watching children suffer.

20: WHAT IS THE MOST SURPRISING THING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?

he’s actually a really good detective. not because he’s smart, though -- he’s desperately determined to better society, and he’s also just very, very lucky.

21: IS YOUR CHARACTER FLEXIBLE?

oh my god, yeah. listen, my baby got 18 dex, +7 to acrobatics. he is EXTREMELY flexible. wink wink

22: WHAT IS THE WORST THING YOUR CHARACTER HAS EVER DONE?

oops i kinda answered this one already. i’m not gonna go into detail bc i kinda just don’t want to?? listen he’s done bad things he regrets

23: IS YOUR CHARACTER MORALLY GRAY OR BLACK OR WHITE?

hmm. he generally does things with good in mind, and usually he does it in a way that’s not so bad. but sometimes he twists the rules a little bit in a way that’s. ehh?? he’s not entirely against using violence to better things.

24: WHAT PREJUDICES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

he’s generally not a fan of rich people or the ruling class. ofc he’s got a huge crush on shaelle, but like. she’s the exception

25: WOULD YOU WANT TO HANG OUT WITH YOUR CHARACTER?

no bc he’s devastatingly handsome and i’d be terrified.

26: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE HEADCANON FOR YOUR CHARACTER?

him whistle real good. he likes to whistle and sing like. all the time. when he’s just idly doing things at home he does it without even realizing it and he’s a little off-key sometimes but he can carry a tune

27: WHAT WOULD BE THE WORST WAY FOR YOUR CHARACTER TO DIE?

at the hands of a friend, probably

28: WHAT PET WOULD YOUR CHARACTER LIKE TO HAVE?

for a while he had some sort of ferret weasel thing? idk if nj is gonna let me say he’s still got it tho lmao

29: WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE FOOD?

his mom’s recipe for fresh-baked bread. real white bread was a fucking luxurious treat when he was growing up and so whenever his mom would make a small loaf of it, maybe like once or twice a year, it was always so special to him

30: WOULD YOUR CHARACTER HAVE ANY HOBBIES?

he likes to read, especially adventure or romance novels lmao

31: WHAT SOCIAL MEDIA WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE?

i can see him on twitter??? he’d have no idea how to use it though

32: WHAT DOES YOUR CHARACTER LOOK LIKE?

him real hansom. angular features, high cheekbones, tan skin, very fair hair and silver eyes bc he’s a sun elf. long, long eyelashes that are darker than his hair, thick eyebrows. thin build, 5′10, long nose. i’m lov my boy.

33: IN WHAT WAYS IS YOUR CHARACTER LIKE YOU?

he’s loud, goofy, occasionally pretty snarky, expresses emotions like happiness, excitement, and anger very easily, but feels weak showing sadness and tries to suppress it. fails. head over heels for shaelle.

34: WHAT IS CLICHE ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?

so many of my characters are pretty boys. so many. also he’s a lovable idiot

35: WHAT IS UNIQUE ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?

i made him myself n he’s got a big ol’ heart.

36: DOES ANYONE WANT TO HARM YOUR CHARACTER?

there are a lot of people who would kill him immediately if they knew where he was and that he wasn’t dead. he has a lot of enemies.

37: DO PEOPLE HAVE JUSTIFIED GRUDGES AGAINST YOUR CHARACTER?

probably. he speaks his mind a lot and can kind of be an asshole sometimes

38: WHAT ROLE DOES YOUR CHARACTER PLAY IN THEIR STORY?

he’s there to take everyone to fantasy jcpenny

39: WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHARACTER’S NICHE ON TUMBLR?

historical fashion blogs and poetry all the way

40: WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE SCHOOL SUBJECT?

creative writing or some sort of music class. he like both.

41: WOULD YOUR CHARACTER WANT TO HAVE ANY CHILDREN?

YES!!!!! he loves kids. LOVES them. his entire life he’s wanted to be a dad. eventually he’s gonna get married to shaelle and they’re gonna have lotsa babies, but currently he hasn’t had the time to meet anyone or settle down and he’s worried he never will.

42: WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHARACTER’S DREAM CAREER?

he’s doin’ it. basically he just wants to help people however he can and make up for all the bad things he did for so long

43: WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER INSECURE ABOUT?

his social class. especially around shaelle. he definitely thinks he is absolutely not worth her time, and the subject of poverty or the social hierarchy in serin ilyan really touches a nerve for him. he also just really, really wants people to like him.

44: WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER PROUD OF?

all the good work he’s done as a detective. he’s (surprisingly) solved a lot of cases, and he feels a sense of accomplishment and justice for doing it. like maybe he can start to sleep a little easier knowing he hasn’t just hurt people all his life.

45: WHAT WOULD YOUR CHARACTER CHANGE ABOUT THEMSELVES?

his past. he’d go back and do something different, try to actually work hard and make honest money instead of getting involved in what he did

46: WOULD YOU WANT TO TRADE PLACES WITH YOUR CHARACTER?

hell no. i love him to bits and i’d love to be a really handsome elf man, but like. my boy has way too much guilt that i wouldn’t want to live with.

47: WHAT FANDOMS WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE IN?

al isn’t cool enough to like things like that. plus he’d be very confused by fandom culture i think

48: HOW WOULD YOUR CHARACTER TYPE?

hunt and peck, capitalized first letter but nothing else, punctuation when he sees fit

49: HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER STAND POLITICALLY?

he doesn’t know what, but he knows SOMETHING needs to be done about the poverty in his city. other than that he tends to look at the smaller scale of helping people

50: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?

he messes up a lot but he never stops trying?? he has a lot of determination and things he believes in and i love him for that. i love him for trying so hard to be good.

51: WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE ANIMAL?

he likes mice, mostly because they were easy to find when he was a kid and he always caught them and tried to train them, but then felt bad and let them go like an hour later

52: HOW WOULD YOUR CHARACTER ACT IN GYM CLASS?

he’s not super strong but he is crazy flexible. probably not a ton of stamina and although he looks like he’s got the body for it he’s not that great at running. he’s just really fucking good at climbing and doing flips and shit. he’s always one of the last people out during dodgeball just bc he’s so good at dodging. he can move FAST.

53: WHAT CLUBS WOULD YOUR CHARACTER JOIN?

he probably wouldn’t join any clubs bc high school is around the time he started down the path of Bad Shit so he definitely wasn’t spending any time hanging around the school if he didn’t have to

54: WHAT IS THE SADDEST THING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER’S LIFE?

he doesn’t realize that people are complicated and that good people are capable of and do bad things sometimes. he’s not a monster for the mistakes he made in the past. he’s genuinely good, he’s doing his best, and people love him and care about him and he needs to know that.

55: WOULD YOUR CHARACTER DO THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE?

hm, this question sure dates the original post... yeah he absolutely would. he likes doing dumb things like that, especially if they’re for a good cause. he’s a goof.

56: WHAT’S ONE OF YOUR CHARACTER’S QUIRKS?

he’s very fidgety. he doesn’t even notice it but he’s really not good at staying still

57: HOW WOULD YOUR CHARACTER FEEL ABOUT FEMINISM?

i think he wouldn’t understand the complexities of it, but in general he would absolutely be for it. inequality pisses him off.

58: IS YOUR CHARACTER DORKY OR MORE ATHLETIC?

he’s an absolute dork. 100%.

59: WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER?

a lot of the time i worry he’s too contrived and tragic or that i play him out of character or that he’s just like. way too dramatic in general.

60: IF YOU COULD TITLE YOUR CHARACTER’S LIFE, WHAT WOULD YOU TITLE IT?

The Good Boy: Please, Folks, He’s Doing His Best

#it speaks #alphonse #aldmerii #friend tag

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newscheckz · 4 years ago

Text

MEN GOLDEN BREAST (PART TWO)

New Post has been published on https://newscheckz.com/men-golden-breast-part-two/

MEN GOLDEN BREAST (PART TWO)

……………….CONTINUATION FROM PART ONE

#THIS IS MY TRUE STORY,,,,

Admin, it is at this point when i came to realize some of these shemales are just men who failed to get rid of their breast and that’s why they have a fully functional and normal dick but also have breasts as well.

I figured out how i will begin the crushing so as to eradicate them as quickly as possible, but this was not easy, as a teenage and with lots of friends who always wanted to hang around with me, it gave me a hard time getting free time alone to work it out hence i had the challenge, but because i was determined, i had to find all means possible.

First i tried using my bare hands pressing them hard and squeezing them to see if something would come out from them but nothing was coming out, the exercise was so painful and the more i tried squeezing hard the more pain i felt.

After several days of repeating the same exercise they started producing some liquid which was colourless but thick than water. Now i realized I’m on the right path but it was very painful.

I used to repeat the exercise for almost 1hr, twice a day.

I tried it for almost a month but i could not see much change. So i decided to try a much harder way with double sticks to see if it would make a considerable change.

The first time i used the sticks i realized some blood coming out of my breasts together with the usual liquid substance.

The blood stains didn’t bother me anyway as my only aim was to see the end of the problem. However since i was a form 1 student i could not find a suitable time and place to do my crushing while in school.

Meanwhile, it was only possible and comfortable while at home on holidays. Though there was no much change, i was quite optimistic that that was the only way out, No matter the challenges.

When i was in form 2, in my first term, something happened at school. It’s a long story of another day: 3 of my close friend were expelled from school. 2 were suspended for 2weeks and after that, they were not allowed to come back in boarding as the school was mixed: day and boarding; boys and girls.

So in a group of 6 friends, i was left alone in boarding; something that left me a lonely person with no single friend, that situation was a toucher to me mentally and couldn’t bear it for long.

After the school were closed for the first term, i requested my parents to get me a transfer as i can no longer continue my studies on the same school. But when they inquired my reason for demanding a transfer, i couldn’t give a good explanation to justify my demands but threatened them that if they don’t send me to another school, then i was willing to discontinue my studies.

Before my Dad could finally make his decision to get me a transfer, i had to stay at home for one month after the school were opened for the second term and during that time, i could also get alot of time alone to continue my crushing as most of my colleagues were in school while i was just at home.

I had got 2 very strong sticks by then that were very firm and can’t break easily which i used them all along my regular routine of pressing and squeezing my breasts.

At this time now, i had got used to it and could easily bear the pain of crushing them as they would discharge lots of liquid with blood stains.

The only problem is that my breasts had already grow to a big mass inside and would take me a long way to go to see them come to end.

After a month, my Dad secured me a transfer to a new school so I joined.

When i was going to the new school, i carried along my crushing sticks so that whenever i got an opportunity, i would use it to continue with my routine of pressing them.

Luckily the school was located in a remote town though in a boarding, but i could easily sneak to a hiding place that i had established for my routine crushing and i had made myself a routine which i used to strictly follow when there is an opportunity.

Because of my breasts i avoided involving myself into games while in school so that during games i can sneak to my hiding to proceed with my crushing.

Though i did not see much change during the first year of my crushing but i realized they had stopped increasing in size and this gave me the hope to go on with the exercise.

END OF PART TWO. T O BE CONTINUED IN PART THREE………….

#MEN GOLDEN BREAST (PART TWO)

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bughead-fic-request · 7 years ago

Note

Okay I am going to request a fic. The phrasing is going to be weird as I know I will be tripping over every word. I was wondering if you could write a fic where Betty is a teacher and jughead comes to visit her after work if you get what I am implying 😏😏😉😉. Okay bye I am going to hide in my bed with the embarrassment that I even requested this 🙈🙈🙈

Hot For Teacher

Summary: Betty has to spend another late night at school grading papers, Jughead visits her to remind her what she’s missing at home.

Words: 2,200

Warnings: Smut, spanking, female oral, orgasm denial, unprotected sex all in a classroom setting. This isn’t sweet smut.

A/N: I edited this myself so there are errors. I’ve never written anything with this kind of smut in it before so sorry if it sucks @bugheadjonesiii. I may have gone overboard. I also want to be clear that I have no idea if this is BDSM, I’m not saying it is. It’s just a couple of kids getting crazy.

Betty huffed, blowing a stray piece of blonde hair out of her face. She was going to be there all night marking papers her tenth grade English class had turned in three weeks earlier.

She welcomed the distraction when her phone buzzed.

Are you going to be home on time tonight? - Jughead - 5:52pm

No, too many papers but I will be home by 8, I promise. - 5:53pm

She sighed and went back to it. She had been putting off marking the essays knowing that not a single one of her students was remotely interested in The Grapes of Wrath. She didn’t blame them but it made reading the papers absolute torture.

Another hour went by and each essay had as little thought put into it as the last. “Next class we should probably revisit the difference between there, their and they’re.” She mumbled to herself.

“Knock, knock.” A familiar voice sounded.

Betty looked up to see her fiancee, Jughead Jones, strolling into her class room. He was wearing dark blue jeans and slightly rumbled light blue dress shirt, a messenger bag at his side. “I thought I’d come over and pull you away from these papers. You’ve been working so hard lately.”

“Well, blame the government for cutting the budget to education.” It was supposed to be a joke but the edge of annoyance was clear in her voice. “Thank you for coming to see me but I really need to get these done. I told the kids I’d have these back to them for tomorrow. I’m already so far behind.”

“How many do you have left?” He asked pulling off his beanie and tossing it on a desk. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“I have around fifteen, it’s going to take me at least another hour.” She pulled her hair out of her ponytail and began massaging her scalp.

“Do you mind if I wait?” He asked looking at the bulletin boards at the back of the room.

“Not at all.” She smiled, flipping open the next essay.

After Jughead has circled the entire room he looked over at Betty. “You know what I just realized? I’ve never had a crush on one of my teachers.” He said taking off his messenger bag and placing it on the floor.

“Seriously?” Betty asked looking away from her paper.

He shook his head. “We all know Archie had Grundy.”

“She 100% should have gone to jail.” Betty commented.

“And you had Mr. Stephenson.” Jughead pointed out.

Betty scoffed. “What? I did not have a crush on him.” She felt her face flush at the mention of her human sexuality professor.

“Oh really? ‘Mr. Stephenson is so smart, he knows so much and he’s so open about sex. This man is going to teach me how to have the best orgasm ever.’” Jughead impersonated his future wife.

“He was handsome.” She justified, crossing her arms over her chest.

“He really was.” Jughead laughed, heading to the front of the classroom. “I totally get it.

Betty rolled her eyes with the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. “We had some of the best sex of our relationship during that time.” Betty pointed out. “That class made me comfortable with my body and willing to try a lot of new things.”

“You don’t think we have good sex now?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Its great but I mean, we did some crazy shit back then.”

“We didn’t do everything.” He commented.

Her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? We did that. When we were on spring break, senior year, I had too many shots of tequila and then again on your 26th birthday.”

Jughead grinned and took a step towards the front of the room. “No, not that,” he picked up a meter long ruler which sat along the edge of the whiteboard and squeezed it hard in his hands, his knuckles whitening. “We’ve talked about it before and we’ve been in the region one or two times but we’ve never actually gone for it.” He slapped the wood against his palm.

Betty jumped at the sudden movement and swallowed hard.

“I’ve heard you’ve been a very, very bad girl.” He said, putting the stick under her chin forcing her to look at him. “You’ve spent so many nights here while your attentive fiancé waits for you at home.”

Betty sat back in her chair while Jughead walked around her. “Now, I think that type of neglect deserves a punishment, wouldn’t you agree, Miss. Cooper?”

She didn’t move, not sure if he was serious or not.

“I asked you a question, Miss. Cooper!” He slammed the ruler down in front of her.

She jumped again, gripping the edge of her chair. “Yes,” she managed to breath out.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and taught.

Betty looked up at him through her lashes. She knew she could get out of this now. She could tell Jughead that she didn’t want to do this and he would drop it but she could feel how wet she was, how much the dominating side of him turned her on. It had been a long time since they had done something adventurous like this, so she complied.

“Yes, sir.” She purred.

“Good girl, now get up.” He motioned with the ruler. “Go to the other side of the desk. I’m going to spank you with the ruler, softly at first, then you can tell me how hard you wanna go. If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that clear?”

Betty gulped and slowly nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”

Jughead squared his jaw. “Place you palms face down on the desk.” He instructed.

Betty’s heart raced as she exhaled in anticipation when she felt him rub the ruler over her ass. She was excited. Betty liked a bit of pain mixed in with her sex life. They had tried biting, scratching, some playful spanking but never with an object and on the rare occasion she would let him choke her.

The narrow piece of wood left her skin and came back quickly, biting into her flesh in the most delicious way. Her nails dug into the desk as a deep groan left her lips.

“Harder?” Jughead asked.

“Yes, sir.” Betty affirmed.

He smacked her again. “Do you think you’ve been behaving badly as of late?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Harder?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” She panted.

The ruler came down and a cry of pain and pleasure left her lips.

“Do you think it’s right for a woman to leave her fiancee all alone night after night?”

“No, sir.”

The ruler came down quickly, twice in quick succession with the same pressure as before.

“Do you think you deserved to be punished for what you’ve done?” He asked.

She didn’t answer knowing he would spank her again.

He did just that, three times in a row. “Answer the question.” He demanded.

Betty grinned. “Yes, sir.” Her voice quivered.

He discarded the ruler on one of the desks behind him. He pulled her black pencil skirt down and looked at her now reddened, thong clad ass. The material dropped around her feet and she went to kick it away along with her heels.

“Leave the shoes on.” He told her with a soft caress of her inflamed skin. “Are you okay?” He asked her quietly.

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Did you like it?” He questioned, still soothing her with his hand.

She nodded and turned on shaky legs to face him.

He smirked. “Of course you did.” He ran his thumb along her bottom lip and dipped it into her mouth which she eagerly sucked. “Now sit on the desk.” He informed.

She slowly lowered herself onto the desk, hissing when her sore backside connected with the coolness of the wood.

Jughead approached his flushed and panting fiancé. Her hands were gripping the edge of the desk as he stood between her legs. He ripped open her white pinstriped dress shirt sending buttons everywhere before removing her bra and discarding behind her. He tore her panties at the sides, pulling them off, leaving her bare in front of him except for the heels.

Jughead started kissing her, moving his hands down the side of her body until they landed on her thighs which he began to spread. “Do you want me to touch you?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue?” His fingers dug into her soft flesh.

“Yes.” She moaned.

“Yes, what?” He tightened his hold on her.

“Yes, sir.” She breathed, squirming on the desk in anticipation.

His fingers lightly ran up her thigh and began teasing her dripping wet cunt. He felt himself grow harder, he couldn’t remember the last time she was this turned on for him.

He inserted two fingers deep inside of her and kissed her hard to muffle to moan that tried to pass through her lips.

He moved his digits inside if her as she ground her hips against him, the pleasure and pain overwhelming her. He dropped to his knees, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the flat of his tongue pressed against her core. Betty gasped while her fingers weaved into his hair and tugged in approval.

Jughead removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, fucking her with his mouth as his thumb circled her clit. Betty moaned, her hips jerking towards his face as she laid back on her desk, papers and school supplies tumbling to the floor.

He removed his tongue and reinserted his fingers, his mouth focusing solely clit, flicking it and sucking until Betty was a trembling mess in front of him. She was pulling on his hair so hard it was starting to hurt.

“Jug!” She breathed. “Please, Jug!”

“You ready to come, baby?” He asked.

She nodded, her brows knitted together as she licked her swollen lips in anticipation.

He grinned and pulled away from her, unbuckling his belt, his face glistening with her arousal.

She looked at him with confusion. “What? What are you doing?”

“You don’t come unless I give you permission. Do you understand?” He pushed his pants and boxer briefs to the floor, stroking his hard length as he moved towards her.

Her face scrunched up in a way that made it look like she was in pain as she squeezed her legs together. “Yes, sir.” She whimpered.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her back to the edge of the desk, resting one of her legs against each shoulder. Jughead pushed himself into her with ease, filling her with his entire cock, eliciting a groan from the both of them.

“B, I’m not gonna last long.” He confessed, his hair flopping down in front of eyes, moving back and forth with every thrust causing her a little extra pain when his pelvis hit her ass. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He panted, reaching down to rub her clit.

The sounds of slapping skin, panting and moaning seemed deafening as they chased their climax in the otherwise silent room.

“Baby,” Betty mewled, licking her lips, eyes closed, her tits bouncing with each thrust. “Baby, I need to.” She pleaded.

“Not yet.” He instructed, rubbing and thrusting even harder.

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing except gibberish game out, her eyes rolling back and her body convulsing under his.

“Now, Betty.”

She let out a guttural sound as she gripped the desk, knowing that she had never had an orgasm quite like that one.

Jughead followed, leaning over her body biting the soft skin of her breast as he released inside of her.

“I love you.” He whispered, trying to catch his breath.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight to her body. “I love you too.”

They were still for many moments, trying to return to normal.

Jughead stood, stumbling back until he was stopped by a desk. “I honestly didn’t plan on that. I just wanted to take you out for dinner.” He said doing up his pants.

She sat up and looked at him. “Well, in all fairness you did get to eat.” She grinned.

He stared at her as he took in what she say. “Good lord, Betty Cooper.” He shook his head.

She giggled and started collecting her clothes, easing her way back into them, trying to salvage what she could.

“Do you need to stay and grade these?” Jughead asked as he began picking everything up off the floor.

“Fuck it, they can have them back on Monday.” Only two of the buttons on her shirt were still in place. “Let’s go home.” She said grabbing her purse.

“You wanna go straight home?” He asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

She gave him a side glance. “First tacos, then home.”

He laughed, placing a kiss on her temple as he led her out of the classroom. “That’s my girl.”

#riverdale #jughead x betty #betty cooper #jughead jones #one shot #bughead smut

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chibi-writings · 8 years ago

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Ink

Characters: Frollo/Esmeralda

A meeting after Frollo captures Esmeralda in the Court of Miracles.

What dark and evil streets could be seen now after the chase had ended, the cat using all of his wiles and wits to ensnare his fiery bird, trapping her in his claws as she spread her wings. How lit the streets had been during his mad pursuit, driven by his wild desires that even he himself did not truly understand but knew where they originated and whipped him into a frenzy, all of his soul and mind bent and honed under a solitary thought just like how he used to throw himself before the altar and pray to God: to find Esmeralda. How he had torn to very foundations of Paris to flush her out, how the very streets seemed to crack beneath him to let Hell through and set the city ablaze.

Now those very same houses squatted fearfully under an ink-black sky, dyed so from the smoke rushing out of their half-ruined forms. The fires that since been put out but they still poisoned the air and sky with their noxious fumes, dark rivers pouring from every crevice of every shell to mix into a thick ocean above which not a single shard of light could penetrate. Even in the daytime it had seemed as dark as twilight with all the burning brilliance of the sun shrouded over, how could the delicate, luminous moon stand a chance against Frollo's destruction?

The only sound under the shadow of Notre Dame were the prisoners shuffling about in their cages, like uneasy cattle being forced into pens while wolves prowled the field, hungry for their blood. Esmeralda could only see them dimly through the smoke and darkness, and even then only because there were torches burning around their cages. They seemed like a phantasm to her watering eyes, appearing only for a heartbeat before smoke stole them away from her sight, leaving her to wonder if there were truly people beyond her or if the shifting shadows of the flames played tricks on her mind. She knew there had to be but the square was so empty and silent and cold, life sucked away by the rage of Frollo.

Her eyes darted around, taking in her guards, the bars of her cage, and finally into the deep blackness where she knew the cathedral of Notre Dame was. She could not see a single stone of it but she knew it was there, she could feel its presence towering over them all like a great beast, as beautiful and dominating as it was merciless. Its stone eyes would watch them all being burned alive tomorrow morning and nothing at all would be done about it. A cruel, horrid specter of fate and judgement! Only a few days ago she had crouched in the depths of Notre Dame, among the marbled bowels and stone ribs and prayed, the only time in her life that she had prayed. She had begged God with everything in her to help her people, never in her life, what was left of it anyway, would she ever manage to make such a heartfelt prayer ever again and this was God's answer. He threw them down from His grace, let them be caught by hateful men who would slaughter them all just for who they were and trapped them in cages like animals. Gypsies did not do well inside stone walls, but they were even worse inside cages. She had thrown herself at the feet of God, and God had tossed her back to the wolves. Somewhere up there, somewhere far up in the unreachable darkness and empty air, was Quasimodo. Esmeralda remembered hearing Frollo giving the order to take him to the bell tower and to make sure he didn't leave, but how could they managed to keep him there? He was the strongest man she had ever seen and could fly over the roofs and buttresses as easily as any bird despite his lack of wings. Many times she thought to call to him, but each time her words died long before they left her throat. He was so high up there in his solitary room, both his loft and prison, that she doubted he could have ever heard her. All she would get would be a slap from her guards. She shivered, the cold stones of the ground leeching into her bones. Her dress was light and airy, meant to fly through the air as she danced, not for any sort of warmth or protection. She had slept in it enough times but that never got her used to the cold of Paris. Curling up a little, she rested her head on her knees and tried to keep warm with it, all the while trying to think of some way to get out. Her problem lay almost entirely with the guards, but from what she managed to see of the lock on her cage it was much bigger and more complex than the usual simple clasps that could be picked within a second. And there was a bar on top of it all for added protection. Even with her skills, knowing lockpicking and escaping as easily as breathing, for that was the life of a gypsy, Esmeralda doubted her abilities. Abruptly she heard footsteps and jerked her head up to see her guards retreating, the shadows swallowing them whole as they traversed the darkness, going to the other cages from the sounds of it. She frowned at them. Why would they suddenly go and leave her alone? Especially when she was the one Frollo had prized most of all. It made no sense. Esmeralda only saw him by the flicker of movement outside of her bars. He had made no sound when he walked and his robes had hidden him perfectly until he was right there in front of her. He had to be a demon of the night, no man could ever be so invisible to all the senses without supernatural powers. Frollo's gaze was dark, pitiless, and utterly engrossing as he stared at her, drinking in her sight. She desperately wanted to cover herself, to run away as a rabbit does at the sight of a hungry snake, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped and the idea of that, the idea of being in a cage like an animal while this man leered at her enraged her and gave her the strength to leap to her feet. "Get out of here!" she snarled, throwing herself at the bars and thrusting her arm through it to grab him, but her fingers only felt the air where he had been a moment before. He had jumped back, far more nimble than she would have ever expected from an old man, and all that was left of him was the ripple of air made by the folds of his clothes brushing in the night. His chuckle slithered into her ears, dark and heavy as the smoke it came from. "Such fire, witch," he said softly, soft enough for her ears alone. "Perhaps I should not commit you to the flames tomorrow after all. Who knows if they would even affect you? Maybe instead I should douse your fire in the waters of the Seine. You would make a spectacular view all the same, being thrown from the bridge in chains." He came closer, just barely out of reach, hardly even blinking. How did he stand the smoke? How could he breathe it without coughing, pierce through it without his eyes becoming red? The dancer faltered, offput at how casually Frollo described how he would kill her. The words fell from his mouth so easily, yet he caressed the words as he spoke them, his eyes dark with promises unspoken, driving his stare into her eyes until she could not hold his gaze anymore. He was stone and she was flesh, forced to bend to his desires or else be crushed under them. "You're disgusting," she said, defiant of him more from spite and the idea that she had to keep fighting him, had to bite and claw her way to the very end, even on the crevices of Hell. "Am I?" Frollo whispered, placing the tips of his fingers together. His rings glittered in the firelight. "I, who am simply tormented by a witch such as yourself? Where were you when I was burning Paris and rooting out all of your compatriots? You knew very well that I was looking for you, and you still hid while so-called 'innocent' people lost their homes and lives because of it." Her hands gripped the metal tightly, her body tensing as she listened to his words. "You dare--" she sputtered, raising her head to glare at him. "You dare try to justify what you have done to my people? You dare to try and make me out to be the villain, when your cruelty and madness has killed more than I ever will?" "Your very existence is a sin," Frollo replied to her, as simply as he would explain to anyone about the concept of God. "Not only a gypsy, a born sinner, but a witch who has bedeviled not only myself, but my former captain and my Quasimodo. You have them wrapped so tightly in your magic that they would do anything for you, the very thought of you in danger sent them rushing to your court like dogs to their master. Why, the poor souls don't even have a single idea to why they act such a way." His eyes flashed and he stepped closer. "But you will not have me, witch," he spat the word out at her. "You will be caught in my yoke, not the other way around." He was closer now, and she dared to send out her hand again to strike him, but it seemed like she barely moved before his hand caught her wrist out of the air and he pushed back, slamming her arm against the cage. Esmeralda gave a cry as her shoulder flared in pain, her body forced to bend to the angle or else it would be dislocated, and Frollo's fingers gripped her so tightly she thought her bones might crack. He was more harsh, more unyielding than any stocks or cuffs. She was left panting and shaking, his surprise retaliation upon her frightening her more than she would ever admit, not to herself or Frollo or God. His skin was hot, burning against her own. He had to be a demon, wreathed in shadows and flame with flimsy skin and bones to hold his human disguise together. What other explanation was there? No man could be so hot on a night like this, not so quick and strong through his frail appearance. He had sucked all the flames into himself and now here he stood before her. His very presence was overwhelming, pressing over Esmeralda like the very cathedral and it seemed suddenly like there was no air to breathe at all. "Just like I said, Esmeralda," Frollo whispered to her, uttering her name for the very first time, "you will bend to me." She wanted to scream at him, to yell and thrash and claw his eyes out but the pain held her there. She was sure she could find a way to move without injuring herself, but first she needed the pain to fade so she could think first. She had to-- There were lips on her hand. Soft, gentle, and sending her skin into thousand different sensations that all crawled down her arm to her fingertips. Her eyes snapped open and she tried to jerk away with all of her might, but her hand would not budge. Frollo ignored her completely, his eyes closing as he kissed down her arm, as if he was tasting a wine. Warmth flooded her veins, crawling along her spine and in desperation she forced her other arm through the bars and grabbed at him, her fingers grabbing his collar and neck before he grabbed her other wrist. Then, finally, he turned to look at her again. His gaze was dark and filled with an inner desire that made her shrink away from him. "Do give me some credit, my dear," he said, holding her arms against the bars as he moved closer, "you aren't half as surprising as you think you are." His robes were darker than night, his skin pale and ghostly and his eyes glared at him from the dark circles that imprisoned them. He stood before her, only some inches separating them that she tried to widen as much as possible. She knew that look, she had seen it far too many times when she danced in front of men. She wanted to threaten him, to snarl and make him back away, but what could she threaten him with? He was the one with the soldiers and weapons. "I'll scream," she hissed at him. He smiled, the kind of smug smile that barely curls the lips. "Go ahead," he told her, leaning closer. "There is no one to hear you. No one to help you." His thumbs stroked the skin of her wrists, his breathing heavy. "Tomorrow I will give you a choice. Death, or me." It felt like all the blood had been sucked from her body, leaving her shaking in his grasp. "What?" she whispered. Against herself, she came closer, as if she had misheard him. "You know what I said," he said, inhaling deeply. Could he still smell her through the smoke? "Me, or your death." He kissed her hair. "Think wisely, gypsy, is eternal suffering and damnation truly so preferable?" Boldly, he released one of her wrists and grazed his fingers down her arm, slipping through the bars to caress the skin of her neck. She did not resist. She couldn't think clearly, her whole mind having to comprehend what Frollo was offering her. He meant--he meant--she shivered all over, his fingers tracing down her neck and it felt as if her blood had suddenly returned, leaping to meet his fingertips as he explored. Defiance blazed in her, some part of herself crawling out of its depths to hate and spite Frollo just because and she balled her hand up in a fist. She moved, aiming for his face but he was gone yet again, leaping back before her blow could connect. With how intently Frollo watched her, it was easy to see the change take place. And still, he chuckled. "Let's see if you still think the same when you stand in the flames tomorrow, witch," he said as he retreated. "Take care not to let your feet burn too much. I still need you to dance for me."

#disney #the hunchback of notre dame #fanfiction #I wrote a disney fanfic hehe #I always loved these two #frollo #esmeralda

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calyfornian · 8 years ago

Text

Keylo and Cataleya : Nature and Nurture pt. 4

My awakening was somewhat cruel when I felt an abrupt plummet.

The landing wasn't too rough, there was some cushioning to it mixed with some warmth. When my eyes adjusted with the sparse moonlight making its way through the window, I could see the familiar color of white colored ceiling and tan walls that I had been accustomed to. I must have been in the bed that I had been accustomed to also, it smelled like him.

The only thing that didn't send a knife through my heart was his absence. Ending up here didn't make much sense either when I told Cataleya I'd be sleeping on the couch tonight.

I was stripped of my clothes, even my underwear and socks were gone and not anywhere to be found in the immediate area.

Opting for an oversized t-shirt from Keylo wasn't the best or the worst. It reminded me of him, which I loved, and it reminded me of him, which I hated. The maroon mesh shorts that barely covered half of his thighs were right beside the bed, me not being as muscular, and still being a few inches taller than him, they made it to my knees. He was just so damn ample.

My head still felt like it was spinning from all the drinks I hadn't had at the celebration. Maybe it was just my sleep cycle being so abruptly interrupted. Maybe it was the reeling from Keylo's nonchalant truth.

Either way, I had to get out of this damned room.

When I exited through the hall and out into the living room, across from me was Keylo, rummaging through the fridge for more alcohol to consume. I only knew that by inferring from the other two empty bottles that weren't out when me and Cataleya got home-got to their house. Keylo and Cataleya's house, not mine. This isn't my home.

My body froze on the sight of him. My mouth didn't even seem to know what to do. When his head emerged from behind the refrigerator door taking violent swigs at a bottle of what had to be rum, his eyes smiled. He took a couple more swigs, then approached me.

"J-jay!" His steps weren't aligned, but I'd be lying if that was the first thing I noticed. He was down to tight black briefs that hugged at his crotch in an appetizing way. Even with just one lamp on in the living room, his body shone like the treasure it was.

He wrapped his arms around me for an embrace, and in his drunken state, the strength he exerted was too much. He was hurting me for the time he held me, but I didn't say anything. I don't know if it's because I couldn't, or if I didn't want to, content with being crushed then and there.

I put way too much merit into this man.

"Sorry, babe, did I wake you up?" His words slurred something fierce as he planted sloppy kisses everywhere but my lips. He was a kind of hurricane drunk now compared to the last time that I had seen him.

I felt my eyes swell with pressure.

"Take-take your shirt off." It wasn't a command, he was all ready pulling it over my head, kissing my right nipple, occasionally taking a nibble.

The pressure in my eyes built. Tears were on their way.

In a swift motion, I think with his foot, he yanked the mesh maroon shorts to the ground, I was naked before him.

Then again, I was always naked before him.

He knelt down, put an arm between my legs and ended up resting his palm against the top part of my butt. Then, he lifted me up on his ascent from the kneeling position. I was about five feet off of the ground when he began giving me oral. I was about five feet off of the ground when silent tears started.

It wasn't long before he gave up on that. It wasn't because I was crying, he didn't notice that. The only thing he noticed was that my member wasn't erecting.

Down from the upright position I was, with my crotch in his face, to an awkward cradle where he continued to bombard me with kisses, and lick at my chest, and at really anywhere else he could think to run his tongue across.

I exhaled a sharp breaths, kind of a yelp, more tears blurred my vision, he took it as a sign of my ecstasy and continued in what I guess I could call a fervent manor.

Then we were on our way to the bedroom, where I was thrown, worse than the plummeting feeling from a few minutes ago. Not that it hurt, I just didn't feel like much.

My tears were full blown now, and I still didn't fully understand why that was the case. Well, I'm sure somewhere I did, but at the time, I couldn't tell. I couldn't justify to myself why it was that I was crying, so for most of it, I was trying to talk myself down from it. Like I shouldn't have been crying in this act, like I didn't deserve it. Like nothing justified me crying with the love of my life performing sexual acts on me right after he had with someone else. Then again, in this time, my feelings weren't really justified, they weren't really-

Keylo flipped me over on to my stomach and licked my ears down to my lower back.

My tears were accompanied by cries that I yelled into the pillow. I cursed that cushion filled fabric when he started eating me out.

At different points, he came back up, pulled me by the back of the head, and jammed his tongue into my mouth. With all the saliva running this way and that, I don't think tears would have been something he could notice, and in his state, I don't think they would have stopped him.

He always asked before he was inside of me. Kind of permission, kind of a heads up; point is, he always asked. Then he was in side of me, in a painful thrust where I wasn't ready for him, where somewhere, even with everything going on, I wasn't expecting him. "Fuck!" was the only thing I could scream through teary eyes, which I'm sure he took as nothing but encouragement.

And I laid there, through the motions, through him grabbing me too hard at times, through him not caring if I was being pleasured at all, and the only thing I could really think about is, "Fuck, this is going to be one of those things that I remember forever."

He finished inside me, and didn't get out of me. There was a whisper of a "Thank you," or I might have imagined that to make the moment not so terrific as it was.

Then I let sleep over take me, it was just too bad that it wasn't fast enough..

#cataleyaandkeylo

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astralnexus · 7 years ago

Note

ALL OF THE OC QUESTIONS FOR WHICHEVER MUSE YOU WANT TO ANSWER

Interview my OC about questions that has no easy answer.

Answering for Elysia, Niri and Les.

1. Which should be saved – a bus full of innocent lives or a loved one?

Elysia: “…A bus full of innocent lives, and pray to The Void that said loved one can get themselves out.”

Lesthael: “Mathematically speaking, a bus full of innocents.”

Nirihel: “I wish I could find a way to save both. But if it came down to it, a bus full of innocents.”

2. You meet a man who has killed someone and done time for it before. Does this factor into how you treat him? Will he ever truly escape that sin?

Elysia: “Yeah, it does. I’m likely to treat them with slight suspicion, but I believe that most people are capable of change. Regret is possibly the strongest feeling y’can have.”

Lesthael: “Not particularly, no. We can escape our sins if we are willing to do so.”

Nirihel: “Not at all. I never judge books by their covers, and I never judge people by their actions upon first meeting. People can change.”

3. If you could jump back through time to save a loved one’s life, would you? Despite what it might to do the timeline? To everyone else? Do you believe it is their fate to die regardless?

Elysia: “No. Messing with things like that is dangerous.”

Lesthael: “Absolutely not. Fate is fate.”

Nirihel: “No. While I do not believe in fate, I certainly wouldn’t mess with time.”

4. You have a secret you swore not to reveal. But this secret is the only thing that would prove your innocence in a separate matter. Is it worth risking your own well-being for the secret? Or would you betray the trust given to you?

Elysia: “Depends on the situation. I’d do either, I guess…”

Lesthael: “I’d keep the secret. I do not betray trust like that.”

Nirihel: “I am the secret keeper of Fai’aerkran. I’d keep it.”

5. Is it better to hurt others before they hurt you or let yourself be walked all over and hurt by others?

Elysia: “I’ve been walked over a lot, and I certainly wouldn’t hurt before I get hurt, truthfully.”

Lesthael: “…I’ve hurt before I’ve been hurt before. It only hurts you more. That does not mean I’d let myself be walked over, however.”

Nirihel: “Neither is better.”

6. If you tell the truth, an evil person gets to walk away free. If you lie, you may be able to send them away like they deserve. Is honesty worth more than justice?

Elysia: “Tell the truth. I prefer honesty.”

Lesthael: “I’d lie. Ends justify the means in this case.”

Nirihel: “Depends on what they’d done. However, I’d tell the truth.”

7. You have the key to immortality in your hands. But not for free. If you want it, as a price, your worst enemy also gains immortality. Is it worth it?

Elysia: “Already technically immortal. Worst enemy at this moment is my dad. He’s definitely immortal - as in, he can’t die by age.”

Lesthael: “I am immortal. This question is null and void to me.”

Nirihel: “What Lesthael said.”

8. If you could gain as much money as you want for losing a sense, would you do it?

Elysia: “Money is useless to a Syraxian, so no.”

Lesthael: “No.”

Nirihel: “Certainly not.”

9. Can people be held accountable for things people close or related to them did or are they innocent?

Elysia: “They are innocent if they didn’t directly take part it it.”

Lesthael: “They can be held accountable.”

Nirihel: “Depends on how directly they were involved.”

10. If a lot of people, possibly innocent people, have to die in order to make a real change, is it worth it? Can you live with their deaths even if it helps people in the present?

Elysia: “It is never worth it.”

Lesthael: “If you had asked me several thousand years back, I would have definitely yes. But now… Innocent blood is something that should not be a price for progress.”

Nirihel: “No.”

11. Imagine there is a beast that craves attention. If you ignore it, despite being deadly, it will leave you alone. Could you live like that? Even if it possibly attacked others? Would you try and challenge something that unknown?

Elysia: “I’d… Pay attention to the beast. Reminds me of Anti, slightly…”

Lesthael: “I would ignore it.”

Nirihel: “Pay attention to it.”

12. If someone else stole something and you stole it back is that a good deed, a bad deed or one of equal worth? Are you better than the original thief?

Elysia: “Good deed, definitely.”

Lesthael: “Equal worth.”

Nirihel: “Good deed.”

13. Could you sacrifice yourself for the good of everyone else?

Elysia: “I’ve attempted to do it before. So yes, I could.”

Lesthael: “I don’t think I could ever be… Brave enough, to do that. As much as I think I could.”

Nirihel: “Yes.”

14. What of love? Say you discover your lifelong crush on another has finally been reciprocated… but they are currently dating a family member or a dear friend the crush feels responsible to honour. Do you force the break up? Date on the side? Bottle it up forever?

Elysia: “Bottle it up.”

Lesthael: “I do not develop crushes and I’m ‘taken’ by Nirihel.. Hypothetically, I’d bottle it up.”

Nirihel: “Same as Lesthael.”

15. Is lying to others to gain their approval more important than being genuine and hated?

Elysia: “I’d be genuine and hated. Rather be true to myself than lie.”

Lesthael: “Genuine and hated.”

Nirihel: “Definitely genuine and hated.”

16. Have you ever contemplated killing someone? Who and why? Would you ever act on it? Are you frightened you might?

Elysia: “Yes, I have. Many a time I’ve thought about trying to kill my dad. But I’d never do it now.”

Lesthael: “I’ve killed before. That’s all you need to know.”

Nirihel: “No.”

17. Have you ever gotten sheer joy out of hurting someone else, either physically or mentally? To whom and why? Did it scare you?

Elysia: “No. I could never feel that way.”

Lesthael: “Yes. Both ways. Now why would I tell you? And no. It only made me feel stronger.”

Nirihel: “Once. Physically. Lesthael, because he’s an idiot. Slightly, yes.”

18. Have you ever done something morally wrong? If it’s morally wrong do you regret it?

Elysia: “I used to steal when I lived on the streets on Earth. I don’t regret it - I had no home and I had to survive.”

Lesthael: “See the last two questions. No, I don’t regret any of that.”

Nirihel: “I have. And I regret them all.”

19. What is more likely a thought to you – that this world is wrong or that you are wrong?

Elysia: “I am wrong.”

Lesthael: “I am wrong.”

Nirihel: “I am wrong.”

20. Are there people in this world who, no matter how much time and penitence is given, should never be forgiven?

Elysia: “There are monsters out there who should not be forgiven… But… I could forgive them.”

Lesthael: “Yes. There are. I am one such person.”

Nirihel: “I agree with my daughter.”

21. Are there people in this world you simply think the world would be better without? If you could erase them out of existence without physically murdering them, would you?

Elysia: “…No.”

Lesthael: “If I could think myself out of existence, I would.”

Nirihel: “Once again, I agree with Elysia.”

22. How do you feel about having an intimate relationship with someone you don’t love? What if they love you in return? Does that make you feel guilty?

Elysia: “Syraxians and intimacy… Don’t really mix anyways…”

Lesthael: “Elysia is right.”

Nirihel: “I second what Lesthael said.”

23. Could you ever become your own hero? Is that a role you can fulfil or is it something you look to others for?

Elysia: “I’ve been my own ‘hero’ before. You can fulfill that role yourself.”

Lesthael: “Heroes do not exist.”

Nirihel: “Heroes are a concept, at best.”

24. How do you feel about tears? Are they cowardly and weak? Do you cry? Would you consider that shameful?

Elysia: “They show strength, to me. Crying is good. Bottling shit up is really bad.”

Lesthael: “While I never cry in front of anyone, I think crying is good.”

Nirihel: “I second what Lesthael said, once again.”

25. What is more important to you? An idea of yours being used and appreciated or the credit for that idea beings yours and yours alone?

Elysia: “If I thought it up, I deserve the credit.”

Lesthael: “Seconded.”

Nirihel: “Third-ed.”

26. Is your personal happiness more important than anything else in the world? Than fame? Than the happiness of others?

Elysia: “No. I put others above myself, first and foremost.”

Lesthael: “Definitely not.”

Nirihel: “No.”

27. How far would you go to achieve a dream or ideal? Does it matter who suffers? Does it matter if you suffer?

Elysia: “As far as I can without suffering. That’s when it stops.”

Lesthael: “…As far as it takes.”

Nirihel: “I don’t mind myself suffering.”

28. How long would you wait for the one you love? A year? Fifteen years? Forever? Could you honestly be loyal to an unfulfilled love?

Elysia: “I’d wait a year. After that, I’d give up. My feelings don’t last that long.”

Lesthael: “I don’t need to wait.”

Nirihel: “I second Lesthael.”

29. Is genius equal to hard work? Does a genius deserve praise for doing well without effort? Are they above us?

Elysia: “No. Hard work doesn’t always come from genius, and vice versa.”

Lesthael: “I agree with Elysia.”

Nirihel: “As do I.”

30. Do we live in a world of parallels? Can there be no hope without grief? No happiness without suffering? Or is a utopia possible?

Elysia: “Unfortunately, I believe we do.”

Lesthael: “Yes, we do.”

Nirihel: “No, but I do not believe a utopia is truly possible.”

31. What is more important to you? Being respected and praised by your elders or being looked up to and championed by those younger or of the same age?

Elysia: “Neither, really. I’d rather be respected by those who wish to respect me, regardless of age.”

Lesthael: “Neither.”

Nirihel: “Neither.”

32. If you could choose to remove certain feelings such as anger, confusion, sadness, would you remove them?

Elysia: “No. All of them keep me going.”

Lesthael: “I’d get rid of anger.”

Nirihel: “I’d get rid of sadness.”

33. If you could wipe certain memories from your head, would you? Why would you? What memories?

Elysia: “…No.”

Lesthael: “Yes. A lot of my past doesn’t need to be remembered.”

Nirihel: “Some parts of my past, maybe.”

34. What path appeals to you more? An exciting dream that leaves you possibly penniless and alone or a drab existence where you have steady success.

Elysia: “Exciting dream.”

Lesthael: “The latter.”

Nirihel: “Neither, really.”

35. Is every person in this world wholly unique or can they be categorized? Can they be grouped and mentally dissected? Are you just another sheep in another flock or are you the sole unique soul?

Elysia: “Everyone is unique.”

Lesthael: “Paradoxically, everyone is unique, but they are also the same in that regard, and thus can be grouped and mentally dissected.”

Nirihel: “I agree with Lesthael.

#fuck me this took forever man XD

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