#(i don't even remember when you tagged me tbh)

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[skrunksthatwunk]

ok so. kiwami 2. rooftop scene. the ending. it's a bit of a clusterfuck but i wanna talk about one detail, a problem they bring to your attention by Fucking. Talking About Her.

haruka is watching all of this unfold.

[this post is like 4.5k words long + pretty critical + has spoilers for kiwami and kiwami 2, and really minor/vague ones for a couple others. they're not that bad though, trust me (and i added a warning in the one place it is major)]

ALSO CONTENT WARNING i'm gonna talk about kiryu's passive suicidality a good amount in this one, so stay away from this if you think that might affect you negatively/you'd be better off skipping it. i'll also make a tl;dr (which i will highlight in red) at the very end if you really wanna know what my point is that will exclude those elements <3. i am also going to use a lot of choice-based language in regards to kiryu's contemplation of suicide because i think it's the lens through which the games treat the topic, but i personally don't find it a productive or realistic way to look at suicide or suicidal ideation at all. someone dying by suicide absolutely does not mean they don't care about their loved ones enough to fight on or whatever. i love you, and proceed with caution on this one.

(also i'm using the kiwamis as my point of reference because i uh. don't have a ps2? those are the games that i played, and though the differences are likely slight, i wanna be clear about that. also,, ignore the watermark on these screenshots,, i didn't notice them and i'm not retaking them. we're all gonna have to settle for youtube cutscene comps for now xoxo)

first, we have to talk about the ending of the first game.

[note: i am Really Really Confident kiryu has a conversation earlier in the game about his going to jail in nishiki's stead being him running away and choosing not to resist his two options (go to jail or let nishiki go to jail) and define his own path, fighting his way against fate to make it happen. part of why i'm so confident it exists is because it made such an impression on me at the time. it's pretty important to my interpretation of things but i also can't find it for the life of me, so uh. sorry ✌️ i really tried. this post's takes/analysis will be dependent on this scene existing, so keep that in mind. if anyone knows where to find the scene/screenshots of it, lmk and i'll add a follow-up with it]

kiwami stuff

so as she's dying, yumi tells haruka this:

that she may be dying (painfully, and right as she's getting everything she wanted), but she doesn't regret it, because at least she did something rather than running away from it all. that you shouldn't run away, ever.

shortly thereafter, when the police find kiryu and haruka, this exchange happens between him and date. here's the play by play:

date tells kiryu he can get him out of trouble with this, and that if he doesn't, he'll get life in prison; kiryu declines his help:

kiryu is so devastated (understandably) by the back to back losses of the three people closest to him that he resigns himself to life in prison, and the death-in-effect that would be. he would prefer to waste away rather than struggle through a life without them. prison was monotonous and isolating, but coming back after a decade was overwhelming, and coming back to everything being so warped and twisted, and then losing the corrupted scraps he had anyway, well. he wants to go back to sleep. he doesn't want to be in a world where everything's the same except he's on his own. better to return to safety, to die slowly in a hell he knows well than weather a new one where he has control and agency, and thus one where he has the ability to fail and to lose anything at any time. he explains to date that that loss is why he can accept his death:

date shakes him and asks him if there's really nothing left for him, no reason to keep living at all:

then echoes yumi's advice to haruka:

which makes an impression on kiryu:

date gives him a reason to live in the form of haruka, saying she'll be on her own again if he goes to jail. he hijacks kiryu's tragic protector complex to keep him alive, because she needs him, and because she's someone precious to him:

after the dust has cleared,

kiryu and date also have this exchange, where date tells him to stay away from the cops (and presumably arrest and a return to prison, the aforementioned fate akin to death), and kiryu cites haruka as his reason to stay away, one he holds to with no uncertainty (showing again that he's accepted date's logic, that his reason to keep living even when it's incredibly difficult is to care for the more vulnerable haruka). given the weight of the consequences, to me, it feels like date's telling him not to be alone with his thoughts or something. it's almost frightening:

so, what's our takeaway from kiwami?

kiryu lost everything and hit rock bottom, but he chose to fight, and to live life on his own terms, even when it got difficult. that's the narrative life lesson he had to learn to avoid repeating the events of 1995. he made that choice for haruka's sake. it's seen as growth.

and without him, haruka would've just returned to the orphanage (assuming she could make it back to sunflower at all) with no one who knew or understood what she had been through, no one to mourn with her, and no one to give her the attention, care, and protection she needs. kiryu knows what it's like to be an orphan with a limited parental figure who only checks in every so often (kazama, "aunt" yumi), and what someone will do for attention/affection from that person (via both himself and nishiki swearing up, climbing the ranks, etc. arguably haruka coming to kamurocho by herself to find "mizuki" is similar), and what it's like to lose them anyway (again, kazama, yumi). their situations parallel each others' somewhat, and that binds them further. and after losing everyone (which he blames himself for to some extent, as one can probably assume from this and 2, and something key to his arc in later games), he chooses to protect her. and this time, he won't fail. at least partially because failing would hurt him, too. he'd have nothing left again.

okay. now we get to kiwami 2.

if you forgot, the context is basically:

everybody's fighting on the roof of a building which i'm sure will not be a running theme or anything as the series goes on

there's a bomb that's about to go off and they don't know how to/can't defuse it

ryuji shot the twist villain to death, but took fatal hits to do so

sayama's like hey!! let's get out of here!!! and kiryu and ryuji are like nooo we have to settle this oughh it's punchin time and they stick her on an elevator and send her down so she doesn't have to watch

ryuji loses. sayama returns, they have a cute sibling heart to heart, and ryuji dies in her arms. sad

kiryu is in rough shape as well, and there's like 2 minutes left on the bomb's timer

here's the scene itself:

sayama tells kiryu they have to run, and kiryu says he can't. the gist is "let's run!" "you go without me" "i'm not leaving you!" "i'm in no condition to run" "i'll carry you then!!" sayama: *sees how fucked up kiryu is, realizes he's Going To Die Anyway* "ok, then i'm staying with you!" and then further bickering about that, before they give up and make out (as one does i guess)

date (he's here now) yells this at them from a helicopter:

before someone else in the helicopter tells date this:

we get this shot of haruka calling out to kiryu as the helicopter swerves away:

and kiryu and sayama have this exchange about haruka where they say they let her down, but that she'll understand:

then they hug and the bomb ticks to zero right when the credits hit. in post credits it's revealed that the twist villain defused the bomb when they weren't looking, betraying his co-villain for reasons i truthfully do not remember and am unwilling to look up. it's not about that right now.

so, how does this scene interact with the ending of the previous game?

the short answer is "badly <3" but here's the long answer:

it's about choices.

the thing about fiction is that anything you want to have happen, as a writer, can happen. it may not be effective, internally consistent, or logical, but you can write it regardless. audiences suspend their disbelief for the sake of engaging fully with your fiction, but everyone has a threshold past which they will stop being engaged in a story and either become uninvested or annoyed. writers usually have lines they're unwilling to cross as well. but in almost every story, there's at least a couple of places where they stretch reality a little to make the narrative they want happen. this is not a bad thing at all. that's how stories get told.

now, i'm gonna be real with you. i don't care about how feasible plots are like 95% of the time. it's not something i think about much, nor is it something i prioritize. i am a very character-centric media consumer, so if world building and/or plot are a bit stale or contrived, that doesn't really bother me much so long as i'm invested in the characters involved. some people can't stand plot holes or the ways musicals burst into song or whatever, and that's fine for them. but it's not something i tend to find that all that important.

this is all to say that i have a sorta affection for rgg's flavor of bullshit pulling. and it is a powerful flavor, maybe even an acquired taste, but i can and do rock with it so long as it doesn't damage the characters too much. this is why i'm not making a lengthy post howling into the void about joji kazama or the second joon-gi han or how many secret relatives there are. those things are silly and endearing and a clumsy yet heartfelt part of a series i care about very deeply. i'll joke about it, but i don't consider it much of a flaw. it's more like personality. flaws are texture, and they help a piece's identity. point is i am very, very willing and able to suspend my disbelief for these games in exchange for a good time, particularly via good characters.

(if you want another example of where i draw the line from within rgg, the answer's the YAKUZA 4 SPOILERS INCOMING rubber bullets twist, because i think 1) it's actively horrifically stupid (especially retconning a scene we SAW HAPPEN. WE SAW BLOOD ON EACH IMPACT, AND RUBBER BULLETS DON'T OFTEN BREAK SKIN THAT DEEPLY (THEIR DAMAGE IS MORE PERCUSSIVE THAN PENETRATIVE). THESE EVENTS HAPPEN IN THE SAME GAME YOU DON'T HAVE TO RETCON IT JUST REWRITE IT. OR DON'T SHOW THE HIT AT ALL SO THERE'S MORE PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. DON'T DO THIS JUST TO HYPE UP YOUR SHITTY VILLAIN NO ONE CARES ABOUT. and 2) (a bit more importantly) i think it actively removes saejima's primary internal conflict for that game, that being his intense guilt over the 18 murders he thinks he committed, one i was invested and interested in. but this isn't a rubber bullets post.)

characters in this series walk off a lot of life threatening injuries. they survive miraculously, they escape in the nick of time, and they pull through in the end. kiryu still somehow hasn't killed anyone. almost every game in his saga ends with an "is kiryu gonna make it out this time?!?" shortly followed by a "yeah lol. lmao" postcredits reveal. kiryu fucking punches a marble statue into dust in the first game. having a story that asks you to suspend your disbelief so much and so often means that when a decision is made, it's not the writers saying, "well, this would have to happen so we are obligated/forced to write it happening" so much as "we wanted this to happen for some reason(s)," because you already know that they're not guided solely by logic. again, this is true of all writers, it's just amplified in stories like these because they've already given you so many hard mode suspension of disbelief moments (they've broken you in like leather, yeah? or like how obvious internet scams allow for self selection by being so obvious that only the most vulnerable people would fall for them. they curate an audience willing to play along with their bullshit flavor so they can tell a story that's more likely to satisfy that audience. in a good way, in a fun way! mass appeal is overrated). there is not much limit to what this series is willing to try and sell you.

so when ryuji takes lethal damage taking out the big bad, that's a choice. when he doesn't die immediately, that's a choice. when ryuji and kiryu send sayama away in the soon-to-be-forgotten elevator so they can settle this like men or whatever despite the literal actual bomb about to go off, that's a choice. when sayama comes back, that's a choice. when ryuji does die, that's a choice. when kiryu determines that he can't escape in time, that's a choice. when sayama is unwilling to leave him, that's a choice. when she says she'll carry him out and there's an elevator right fucking there and then she's like never mind i guess i won't anymore we're dying together right now kiryu like they're not gonna even try?? wouldn't distancing themselves from the blast give themselves a better shot, something that's super possible given the 2 minutes they have with that elevator??? sayama you met him like a week and a half ago why are you ready to die with him that's not a plot hole i just think that's kinda strange whatever anyway, that's a choice. when kiryu stops arguing with her so they can kiss (next to her brother's corpse), that's a choice. when date shows up, that's a choice. when the helicopter can't save them because the bomb was going to go off too soon, that's a choice. when they put haruka in that helicopter and take her away, let her only impact be reminding kiryu and sayama that they can't help her, that's a choice. when they spend their last moments talking as if they're already dead, then simply waiting, that's a choice.

they're all choices that the writers made for the characters, and we are asked to believe them for the sake of achieving the writers' vision, as with any story. the only problem is that the writers' vision here fucking blows.

i'm not saying it would be realistic for kiryu and sayama (and even ryuji) to make it out alive, but it wouldn't be out of character for the series in the slightest. kiryu is suddenly unable to power through here, and that's a choice. so, what is their vision?

put simply, i think they wanted a romantic last stand for kiryu and sayama, a tragic scene of doomed, devoted lovers. and i think they wanted an edge-of-your-seat fake out death. they wanted spectacle.

here's how some specific choices they made undermine all that shit we talked about earlier from the first game.

once again, kiryu is called by date to live, to pick himself up and keep going, no matter how impossible the odds are. he's even reminded by haruka's presence, his one anchor in keeping himself going. the growth he had in the parallel scene in the previous game is challenged, and he fails.

it's not enough this time. and that's a choice.

it's also one i can't think of a good reason for, and that's the real kicker.

characters can have developmental backslide just like people do, and if they're given good reason for it, it can be just as, if not far more compelling that purely linear growth (i am a chimera ant arc enjoyer, and that's all i'll say. sorry if you haven't seen hunter x hunter. uhh. i am also a zuko avatar enjoyer if that helps). but i can't think of anything that happened in that game that would cause this from a character perspective. if anything, kiryu should be less likely to do this intentionally. he's spent around a year raising haruka, and a year has passed since he lost his loved ones. at the very least, the pain should be more dull, though it is established through an early nightmare sequence that his ass is (justifiably) not over it yet. given that their deaths were the initial motivation for his willingness to rot forever, theoretically, he should be more motivated to stay alive than before now that he's got more investment and stability in his life outside of them, particularly when it comes to haruka, his reason for surviving. and if the ongoing nature of the trauma was the motivator for this, then they should've had it affect him more past that nightmare scene (it really serves more as a recap of the last game than anything else) so it didn't come out of nowhere. so the reminder of the lesson that saved his life and then guided it for at least a year afterwards, one that the whole resolution of the previous game relied on heavily falls flat for... some reason.

i think this is a good time to mention that, generally speaking, you don't write arbitrary choices into characters. sure, people in real life are often sporadic, but when analyzing fictional characters, every choice is filed into a portfolio of characterization that can and should be analyzed. going for pure realism can obfuscate their development, motivations, themes, etc. their choices and reactions may be unorthodox, but they must be internally consistent. this is very related to how i view plot contrivance as well. characters drive the plot, not the other way around. stories are about the ways characters affect their worlds/lives and vice versa, and they're the human face to the themes and ideas the writers are trying to explore and express. maybe my stance on this seems hypocritical. i don't know if it is. but to me, plot issues are usually a matter of engagement and investment, while character issues are a matter of substance.

i hope this doesn't feel patronizing explaining all of this, but i want you guys to know where i'm coming from in my analysis. starting at my base philosophy on writing is the easiest way to do that, i feel. defining the terms of the debate, and all that. anyway

and i mean, look. they survive because "it was defused the whole time we just didn't see it happen", so it's not like narrative tension or realism or whatever was THAT big of a priority overall. if it was gonna be a cop-out anyway, they should'nt have ruined kiryu's development too, yeah?. and sayama fucks off to america after this game anyway, so it's not like the doomed lovers thing had much payoff or meaning after this one (though you could argue that's more an issue with yakuza 3 than yk2, which has some merit to it). which means that they chose to sacrifice kiryu's prior development and internal logic for the sake of cheap tension for their finale that was both kinda illogical in and of itself (the elevator!! the elevator!!!) and a romantic climax that neither required nor really benefitted from this staging. (like. you coulda had them make out and then get saved by date, or kiss on the elevator in a "it's moving, but will we make it in time??" way or whatever. look i'm not saying those are great options either but they're SOMETHING okay. it would remove/reduce the amount of time wasted on characters sitting around with their thumbs up their asses for no reason in this finale).

instead the message of this finale is that, actually, sometimes it is impossible to change your circumstances and fight for your own way out of an awful situation. and what should you do about this unfortunate truth? uh. die! i guess. it's the exact opposite of the encouraging, optimistic message of the last game. zetsubou chou pride my ass.

note: i feel i should mention that when suicidality is brought up within the series (particularly in substories), it is always something someone has to overcome themselves through wanting it badly enough. they simply need the inspiration and the motivation to keep going. it's arguably treated as a moral obligation. frankly, the series is broadly very meritocratic (<- bad) when it comes to this topic (and others, but that's a Whole Other Thing. see akiyama's weird loan shark tests as well). sheer will and resolve is enough to conquer any problem, be it physical or mental/emotional, and it's irresponsible to act/feel otherwise. this is the logic the games operating under, and kiryu is often the mouthpiece for this bootstrap-pulling "tough love" sentiment. so when kiryu "chooses" to die, yet faces no emotional fallout from date, haruka, or anyone else, it feels very out of place. it's not just an odd choice; it's specifically, once again, an odd choice to make in context of the game/series/character it appears in.

kiryu's just like eh, haruka'll watch her only family die right as she gets some sense of tentative stability and lets her guard down after a devastating month the year prior (and a relatively dismal upbringing before that) that we trauma bonded over. sure, she likely came to view me as the one who would stay no matter what, who was too strong to be taken out, who she could always rely on, and so i know that dying would hurt her immensely, but she's smart enough to know it'd happen eventually. her eventual recovery means it's okay for me to do this (somehow, in a way it wasn't in the first game). it's an excuse within the narrative's logic, and one it is uncritical of simply because it's kiryu. he gets a pass.

and i think with the previously mentioned passive suicidality and general series-long mental health issues kiryu displays (i mean. yakuza 5's literally his depression arc), this could be retroactively seen as an interesting choice, like a piece in that particular narrative. i don't even dislike that viewing, especially in terms of fan approach. but (assuming this went down the same in yakuza 2), they likely didn't have that in mind. all they had then was the first game and the movie. and they took the first game's Entire Message and contradicted it for nothing but a scene they wanted to have happen because it'd be suspenseful and/or emotional (without actually doing the work to earn it). and they're not fans trying to analyze his character, they're the ones making choices for him. and they chose to massacre my boy. and if the subject of kiryu's mental health was a priority of theirs, why didn't they explore that? haruka and date's feelings on him not resisting and their words not being enough (whether that blame is justified by the narrative or not (it shouldn't be btw)), the uncomfortable drifting that resigning yourself to death and living afterwards anyway often brings, literally any conversation about it besides the minimal shit we get post credits of date being like "did you know about the bomb not having a fuse?" which like. bad answer either way (which is why they weren't straightforward about it, the cowards). you can't just be like "oh uh. idk he just gave up this time. yeah he was gonna die on purpose for some reason. good thing the bomb was fake lol" and then pack up and go home!! that's stupid!! any merit the idea of kiryu dying by suicide in this scene and in this way could have had from a character-based perspective loses its weight because 1. it didn't happen (for kinda stupid reasons), which makes it fall flat and 2. no one is really affected by the fact that it almost did, including him. they sacrificed his ass and replaced it with nothing, even when there could have been interesting outcomes to it.

so the narrative effectively chose to kill him by making the situation impossible, and this impossibility is ultimately arbitrary, given the series' usual approach to miraculous, illogical escapes. that, or the choice to stay was up to kiryu and sayama, one that 1. doesn't make sense and is actively regressive in context of kiryu's arc in the only other game in the series (as well as his whole saga in retrospect) and 2. one that contradicts how the series sees/treats resignation to death/death by suicide in all other contexts without being addressed, challenged, or condemned in ways it would in all other contexts. because they don't want you to think about it like that. they want you to think he (and the narrative) had no choice, that it made sense to do that. but it didn't. it doesn't.

and look, honestly? if i was bleeding out and had like 2 minutes to live, there's a non zero chance i'd say fuck it and kiss a girl too. i get it. but i am (and this is crucial) not a fucking yakuza character. and i'm certainly not kiryu kazuma.

tl;dr (basically just rephrasing the second to last main paragraph)

there are not sufficient character reasons for kiryu and sayama not trying to escape. additionally, because the narrative regularly facilitates even less likely escapes, it's not so constrained to logic and reality that it couldn't pull this one off. the choice to let their situation be impossible this one time was a cheap and arbitrary way of forcing a scene they thought would be cool and dramatic, and in doing so they chose to cannibalize a key emotional note of the previous finale (namely kiryu's mission to dedicate his life to protecting haruka) for hollow last minute stakes-upping in this one. it is then completely disregarded anyway. god damn.

[helloiamacashier]

It's a travesty that I can't reblog gifsets of books.

[caracarnn]

While I do have show verses I will be TAILORING THEM basically au versions of the show bc Rand - is just...Rand won't be the Rand you see in the show. The Dragon is not the friends that you made along the way and Rand also didn't fck off to Cairhien to work in a mental health facility. He is v much Channeling and grappling with his own sanity at this time and he did fight his own battles. He also wasn't all HELP ME PLS to a fckn Forsaken. Just so show watchers know. It's a show verse but an AU show verse. ahem. He also cannot be shielded by ONE aes sedai and he isn't just a plot device for everyone else.

[valkoinenlintu]

Out of Context Lines

The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.

thank you a lot for tagging me @astargatelover! <3

Blaue Augen blickten wieder in seine. Sie glitzerten. Ernstls Herz brach, als er sah, wie eine Träne Moritz’ Wange hinabkullerte.

[seaweedstarshine]

literally black king Emma was so fucking good. we were robbed. Like on the one hand they should have let Matt Rosenberg cook but on the other hand. the really brutal Ruth death and rahne trans panic murder were a lot 💀

Oh you’re so so right — the mutant metaphor suffers from cis white writers, but I remember people calling it trauma porn like there’s no narrative purpose for there being a massive death count overall, and I'm like… mmmmmMmm.

Personal preference rambles as a found family heavy angst enjoyer (this is not a defense of Rosenburg X-Men), but in a general sense I really like when — so they might not get along, but they got each other, because as life keeps gloating it's hell to fight supremacy when you're fighting each other (not that causes of divisions amongst marginalized people are unimportant, but if you don't have your people, no one else will, this is how I feel; also not that anyone is obligated to loyalty towards a specific individual that harms them) — Hope shooting Scott in the head isn't fine, but what binds them is more important than grudges. Logan finally leaving his MCU-esque Post Credits Scene Era to be with Scott! The way Black King Emma (!!!) will stoop to any low as she manipulates Scott into doing what she wants, but she is trying to protect him, she worries when he's shot, and when the perceived advantage of their separation ends, she just welcomes them all into the Hellfire Club?? It's just cathartic for me.

There are some very significant caveats in this run that I only hope I remember well enough to speak on… The Morlocks deserved better, eons before anti-mutant hate got to that level, and between Jono and Dani's roles — the X-Men having overlooked the way it's always godawful for the most marginalized among them before it was quite this godawful for all of them, the hypocrisy, it could've been explored better here with less focus on Scott and Logan. Like in Sabretooth and the Exiles, sort of, but not entirely…

(I think sometimes this works better with side books. The Simonson New Mutants run is debatably my fav and overhated in my opinion.)

Yeah, Rosenburg X-Men is very flawed, and it's extremely valid not to be into it when you hold the same energy for Krakoa's flaws, but overall (for me) it really nailed the tension and the stakes and the angst and I was extremely hooked, especially with Age of X-Men meanwhile making choices in the other books.

(I might be misremembering a bunch, too, I literally just reread my college essay from almost exactly 5 years ago to try and remind me! I was low-key exaggerating in those tags where I called it a paper, it was a 3-page one-week essay with two sources which were Rosenburg UXM and the textbook. I also re-skimmed the Ruth death issue…)

…okay one more thing also I can't lie I was heavy into David/Ruth at the time and I read that issue like three times that week it dropped, I'm not about to say it she wasn't fridged for the purpose of setting up how bad it's about to get, nor that the interesting shit it did with her powers didn't literally just mirror the excuse to write out Destiny in a very concerning pattern, but at least the story was about Ruth's pain rather than that of those left behind (which is very different from, say, the focus being on Peter Parker's pain when Ms Marvel last died; and also very different from Rahne's death, which is the worst of the run)— anyway in 2019 I was just so happy to see Ruth again after that wildly OOC Legion series that didn't mention her while David was also being a plot device in Age of X-Men (which I didn't love). I had pretty much lost hope that my X-Men Legacy babies would ever be relevant again, so it was a win for me. Not as big as Way of X, but the bar was on the floor. That said a content warning was so needed to be at the beginning instead of a fucking suicide hotline at the end.

But the Rahne trans panic murder, god. Masterclass in taking the mutant metaphor to depict the most brutal things to happen to real marginalized people (without bothering to represent them?) and it goes grossly exploitative so quick. The way X-Men's lack of sensitivity readers shows…

ANYWAYS I haven't read it in years please take my opinions with a grain of salt.

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

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Part Two

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A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

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You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[hiddenreamers]

Unlikely pair

SUMMARY: Where Oscar is dating a musician known for strictness and harsh comments on survival shows. To everyone's surprise, the unlikely pair is nothing short of perfect.

yntheone made a new post:

Close your eyes, take my time Let's remember this moment

Photograph (prod. Offonoff) is out on Thursday

Comments:

user1: WHATTT

user2: this is not a drill I repeat this is not a drill

user3: girl you can't just drop this on us and bail 💀

user4: is this real or is this my ambien

user5: i see the saga of blurry pictures continues

↳ user6: it's a vibe, you hater 😤

user7: omg is this the song realoffonoff played on his live the other day??

user8: who is this and why is it not me 😩

user9: she destroyed everyone on Don Mills Daebak remix just to turn around and do cute rnb songs 😭 queen shit 👑👑

oscarpiastri: can't wait ❤️ liked by yntheone

↳ yntheone: ❤️❤️ ↳ user10: the last person I expected to see here ↳ user11: 🤨🤨 well that's suspicious

user12: You need to do an entire album with realoffonoff !! Cigarette was amazing 😍

↳ user13: oh my godddd do you think cigarette was about the same guy? ↳ user14: definitely ?? i mean how can you listen to yntheone sing she wants you to be addicted to her like cigarettes and go "nah I'll pass" ?? brain damage ahh behaviour

yntheone tagged oscarpiastri in a post:

Do you really think you're that good??

(He is.)

Comments:

user15: babe wake up new roman empire just dropped

user16: not the caption 💀💀 quoting herself like the queen she is

↳ user17: giving trainees war flashbacks lmao

user18: he better know how to fight 😤😤 im throwing hands

user19: this can't be the same person who tore apart trainees on live tv 😐 since when is she all lovey dovey

↳ user20: if you had Oscar Piastri smiling at you, you'd be lovey dovey too

user21: out of all the people I suspected to be the guy from a blurry picture, this man wasn't even on the list ??? there's opposites and then there's THIS

↳ user22: ya I'm genuinely surprised someone as calm as him can keep up with her ↳ user23: yall are forgetting he's keeping up with Lando Norris

oscarpiastri: I really am liked by yntheone

landonorris: he's not as good as me but I guess he's still kind of ok

↳ danielricciardo: you might want to rethink that mate ↳ landonorris: blocked

user24: I'll just assume every love song she's done has been about him

↳ user25: Cigarette?? Moon?? Photograph?? Make the Move?? He better know the poetry that she's written about him or he gon catch these hands ↳ oscarpiastri: I do know and I appreciate every word

user25: finally Mclaren found someone who can actually pull off the papaya and not look silly

user26: yntheone is taken?? worst day of my life tbh

user27: imagine all the contestants on survival shows that will come in mclaren merch 💀💀 we're about to unlock a new level of embarrassment that shouldn't be possible

user28: this is the best golden retriever black cat couple, everyone else can go home

user29: for his own sake, I hope he knows what he's gotten himself into 😩😩

↳ user30: no better racing motivation than remembering your girlfriend is famous for roasting people in front of the entire nation

f1fans_official made a new post:

oscarpiastri and yntheone on their little New York trip 🥺🥺

Comments:

user31: yes I watch f1 for the rivalry and driving

↳ user32: these two are the main plot

user33: am I the only one bothered by the fact that she's a rude bitch??

↳ user34: yes sis you're the only one who can't tell between a rude bitch and a professional realistically evaluating wanna-be artists

user35: no thoughts head empty thinking about my favourite paddock couple

user36: i can't even be mad she's taken my man 😞😞 they look cute together

user37: hope they don't break up I can't take going through my parents' divorce twice

user38: if Lando and yntheone become friends we're going to see the most iconic duo of all time

↳ user39: the Lando slander is about to get serious 💀 ↳ user40: Oscar is gonna be bald by the end of the year because of them lmao

oscarpiastri tagged yntheone in a post:

Resting and recharging before the next race weekend

Comments:

user41: it's giving he asked for no pickles

yntheone: no need to thank me, I know I'm the only thing you need 😴 liked by oscarpiastri

↳ oscarpiastri: wouldn't have it any other way ❤️

user42: forget guard dog boyfriend, Oscar's got a guard dog girlfriend and I'm here for it

↳ user44: feminism

landonorris: guys help me she's scary

↳ yntheone: I know where you live 🥰🥰 ↳ oscarpiastri: yntheone I'll hold your bag baby ↳ user43: forget the office this is the sitcom i'd watch ↳ georgerussell63: the bigger the distance from angry yntheone the funnier it is

user45: honestly why would he go for a manly rude bitch?? there are so many better women out there, just sad

↳ user46: have you considered the fact that men are not a monolith and have, in fact, individual preferences? or is your IQ too low to comprehend that?

user47: I will tell my children this is the royal pair

user48: can't wait for her the sample Oscar and add him to a beat 🔥🔥

user49: ok now I get why she wrote absolute bangers about him 😍

user50: if she's in the stands cheering him on, FIA should give Oscar a penalty for unfair advantage 😤😤

[dyaz-stories]

your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.

word count: 4.1k

warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.

So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.

You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.

You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.

“C’mon now, I haven’t got all day.”

You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.

“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.

It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.

“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.

But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.

The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.

You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.

Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.

But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.

You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.

Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.

Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.

It’s fine, though.

You’re used to waiting for him.

Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—

And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.

He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.

“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.

“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.

You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.

Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…

He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.

He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”

Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.

“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”

He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.

“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.

You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—

“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.

“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”

“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.

“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”

Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.

“Ask me what?”

His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.

“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”

It’s like a bomb just went off.

Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.

“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“No, no, I’m, uh—”

You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.

“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”

It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.

He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.

Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.

But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.

“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”

A light buzz starts again in his ears.

“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”

“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”

He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.

“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”

He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.

“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?

“Please,” he whispers.

Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.

Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.

His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.

“Is that okay? We can stop—”

“No, I—”

He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.

But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.

After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?

“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.

Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.

From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.

He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.

“Still good?” you ask.

And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.

“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”

“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.

“I could tell.”

What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.

Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.

You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.

Your fingers hook in his hoodie.

“Can I?” you ask.

He’d go to the moon and back for you.

He nods.

You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.

You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.

He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.

Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.

You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?

His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.

“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”

Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.

“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”

The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.

Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.

Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.

“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”

But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.

“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.

“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”

“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”

“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”

“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”

And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.

“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.

“I would. I would like that.”

Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.

He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.

i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.

next one-shot

[guiltyasdave]

a long time coming

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. You end up going with her dad instead.

word count: ~1.1k

tags/warnings: best friend's dad!Dave, fluff, allusions to smut, huge age gap, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, please be warned: Dave has inappropriate (though reciprocated) thoughts about his daughter's best friend - if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read

a/n: daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i were freaking out about those new photos of pedro, and because daphne apparently wants me dead, she said that it's giving bfd!dave who's at a concert with you and also provided me with a snippet that still has me in a chokehold and that's part of this story now. i am already experiencing heavy brainrot because i'm going to the eras tour in three (3) days and this was the final nail in my coffin tbh. i should be working on my dress, but instead i did this. the most self indulgent shit i've ever written lmao, please enjoy <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my whole masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

“Please, daddy? Please?” 

Dave sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Molly’s hoarse voice keeps pleading with him before it dissolves into a fit of coughs. 

With a groan, she lets her head fall against the pillows, wide eyes still trained on him. 

“No one else wants to go, and I can’t let her go alone, I’d feel terrible. Please?” 

She pouts at him, knowing fully well that her father doesn’t deny her anything when she looks at him like this. 

“Fine. If you’re sure that she’s okay with it?” 

“She is! I already asked her.”

Dave cocks a brow at his daughter, earning himself an exhausted but triumphant grin. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It will be fun!”

Admittedly, Dave really has much more fun than he expected when his daughter all but begged him to accompany her best friend to the concert that she wanted to go to herself before she got sick. 

He knows most of the songs, has been witness to you and Molly singing along to the music while dancing through his kitchen often enough. It’s not bad music by any means, and the show is nothing short of spectacular. 

It’s not the reason he’s enjoying himself so much though. He’s barely watching the show, eyes only occasionally flicking towards the stage. 

His gaze is fixed on you, has been since before the show even started. Watching you interact with other fans, beaming smiles and giggles, eagerly exchanging bracelets, excitedly cooing at the especially pretty ones. 

Meeting your eyes when you turned to him, not able to suppress his own smile at the sparkle in them. Suppressing the flicker of something in his chest when your fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging it closer to put a few bracelets on him as well. You don’t seem to notice the faint blush that’s rising up in his cheeks at the unexpected touch. 

He’s watching you bouncing on your feet seconds before the show starts, snaps a few photos of the pure joy on your face without you noticing. Just to send them to you later, having enough experience from being the father of two daughters to know how much you’ll love them. After that, he’ll delete them from his own phone. Of course he will. 

He’s watching you dance, your body moving to the beat of the music, your lips forming every word. Your silhouette shimmering with the lights reflecting off your dress. It’s mesmerizing. You dance with the girls beside you sometimes, shouting lyrics at each other. Other times, you turn to him. He doesn’t protest when you take his hands, starts moving with you without a second thought, starts singing the words that he knows along with you. You’re laughing, your eyes shining with pure happiness. It’s intoxicating, and he wants more, wants all of it, wants to be part of that happiness. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled this wide, the last time his body felt this light. 

It takes a long time, longer than it should, until he remembers why this is bad. Until the weight comes crashing back into him. Until he remembers that he shouldn’t feel like this with you. 

You’re so much younger than him. His daughter’s friend. His daughter who asked him to come here with you, because she trusted that you’d be safe with him. 

Your brow furrows when you catch his eye and notice the change in his expression. No. He wants you to enjoy yourself, doesn’t want to be the reason for any kind of worry for you right now. He allows himself to drink in your energy right now, to let a smile grow on his face again. 

There’s no harm in indulging just for one night. Just a little bit. No one has to know. Least of all you. 

So he keeps singing with you, keeps letting you move with him. Keeps watching. 

It’s easy, being with you, talking to you. Effortless in a way that he’s not used to. 

It’s just because you’re at his house more often than not, going wherever Molly goes. It has to be. 

But it’s different, your giggles ringing out in the confines of his car, not mixed with his daughter’s, the sound that he knows. And he’s the one who’s elicited those laughs from you. 

"Explain it again, please. You’ve glued every single of these stones onto your dress?" He laughs and gives you another once over, glad he can disguise his inappropriate ogling with an appreciating glance. Act like he’s studying the intricate, shimmering patterns on the fabric. Not the way your tits are straining against the low cut over your chest. Not the way the skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing a new inch of bare skin. "Great job, sweetheart. You look good. The dress looks good, too." 

He wonders how the dress would look bunched up around your waist. Or on the floor of your apartment. If your skin is as soft as it looks in the dim shine of the red light he’s stopped at. How it would taste under his tongue. The sweet sounds you would make when his teeth dig into you. 

You breathe a thank you and bite your lip at the compliment, and his cock twitches with interest. Wrong, wrong, so wrong.

He has to be imagining the way that you keep glancing his way, stealing looks when you think that he doesn’t notice. Wishful thinking on his part. 

He pulls up in front of your apartment building, killing the engine and turning towards you. You’re already facing him, more shy than you’ve looked all evening. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say softly, lips pulling up into another smile. “I’ve had a great time. I— I hope you did too.” 

His hand lands on your thigh before he can actively think about it. A soft gasp escapes you, but you make no move to back away from his touch. 

“Trust me, I did.” 

He doesn’t intend for it to come out as low and breathy as it does. Teeth dig into your lips once more. Your contemplative gaze burns into him. 

You inch closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his face. 

Wrong. He swallows thickly, forces his grip off of you. You blink, eyes growing wider, the growing tension’s fog lifting from you. Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter. 

“Good night, sweetheart.” 

He needs you to leave this car. Right now. 

You nod, shakily bidding him a good night as well. 

He watches your retreating silhouette, finally able to exhale deeply when you enter your building. 

He’s fucked.

comments and reblogs are love and make my day every single time <3

[always-just-red]

I wanted a slightly suggestive fluff with the twins if that's alright👁️👄👁️

A scenario in which they're finally done with Sylus's tasks for the day and get to spend some time with MC

CRYINGGG anon I low-key did deviate from the brief but I had this idea and I just ended up running with it. I hope you enjoy, regardless! I went into this ambivalent towards Luke and Kieran but something just possessed me honestly. Also dragged Sylus into it because there's no way in hell I wasn't subjecting him to this dynamic!! 😇 (I made MC here separate from canon MC for plot reasons, but if you want a fic with the twins and canon MC, just let me know!)

Onychinus' Finest

Luke and Kieran x Reader

Summary: All in a day's work for Sylus's loyal and committed worker bees crows

Genre: fluff & shenanigans

Warnings/Additional tags: MDNI (not smut but it's a lil spicy and I'd rather play it safe tbh), f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, humour, swearing, suggestion, kisses, the twins are just obsessed with your legs honestly and who could blame them

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your call connects almost instantly.

“What?” Sylus hisses from the other end, and you get the impression he’s disappointed.

“Oof,” you groan, smiling, “what’s the matter, boss? Waiting on a call from a certain Deepspace Hunter?”

There’s silence in your ear, but not far from you, Kieran snickers. Your smile broadens. “You have three seconds,” Sylus seethes, with the precarity of a pot that could boil over at any moment, “to tell me what I want to hear.”

Three seconds is a bit of a push. You’re sat on a desk and Kieran is tapping away at the computer beside you, the light of the screen catching the sharp features of his mask; he looks like something from a horror story. You nudge his knee with your foot. He glances at you.

Wrap it up, you signal with a twirl of your forefinger.

His mask tilts downwards, almost imperceptibly, and you know he’s glaring at you from behind it. He flashes his middle finger back and you chuckle, watching him return to his work. “Files should be on their way shortly,” you explain to Sylus, because you know when to stop pushing your luck. “Ever’s upped the security on these damn computers. The device that guy sold you didn’t do shit.”

It’s also now pieces of a device, shattered against the floor from when Kieran had thrown it down and stepped on it in frustration. You’re not gonna mention that.

Sylus sighs impatiently, but there’s a hint of regret. “I knew there was something off about that deal. Do you think he tipped them off?”

You glance around the room and it’s littered with bodies. Not dead! Just… unconscious. At least, most of them, you think. “Yeah…” you muse. It was a lot more security than there should have been in a high-rise office in the middle of the night. “You might be onto something there, boss.”

Another sigh from Sylus. You watch Luke as he finishes looting— wait, no— checking the last of the security guards for anything helpful. He’s found a phone and he’s staring down at it, head tilted, reminding you of Mephisto. You briefly wonder what came first: the crow masks or the crow-like behaviour. Maybe you’ll ask Sylus one day.

Luke lifts the phone, holding it at arm’s length, and you realise he’s taking a selfie. He pivots until you and Kieran are in the background, and you lean into the frame, making a peace sign with your free hand. The moment is captured. Luke tosses the phone over his shoulder and it hits the floor with a crack.

“Are you all alright?” Sylus checks, and you know his eyes are burning with frustration, even though you can’t see them. He wears a mask too— most of the time— it’s just a little more figurative than yours or the twins’. You’re an expert at reading past them by now.

“Yeah,” you say, “we signed up for this, remember? You’ve got the best of the best, right here.” You glance between Luke and Kieran. “Well, the best of the best and her sidekicks.”

“Hey!” Kieran interjects. “You wanna have a go on this computer?”

“No,” you lilt back sweetly. What’s he gonna do— make you? Sure enough, he goes back to tapping away, his head sagging slightly, and you can tell he’s pouting.

Luke has wandered closer to the pair of you. “How much longer?” he whines, throwing himself into a wheely chair, setting it on a slow collision course with Kieran’s. You stop it with your leg.

“Shut up,” Kieran snaps. “At least I’m doing something.”

“I can do something,” Luke retorts. He captures your ankle, pulling it away from the leg of his chair, and rests a hand on your shin.

“Something isn’t in the mood right now.” You lift your foot from his grasp, inching it up his lower abdomen, and he groans as you plant it against his chest. “So unprofessional,” you tut.

You’d stifled your phone against your chest, but you can hear a deep voice leaking out of it. “Say that again, boss?” you request, bringing it back to your ear.

“How long is this going to take?” Sylus repeats.

“Not long. You know what they say, though…” You meet the eyes of Luke’s mask. Your tone drops: “All good things to those who wait.”

Luke’s chair squeaks, rolling back as you push him away with a soft kick.

“Fine,” Sylus murmurs, “Mephisto is with me. Stay on the line, and send the files through when you can. I’ll check them before you leave. If they knew we were coming, there’s a chance that—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture,” you interrupt. You get Kieran’s attention again, then gesture between the computer and the phone. The beak of his mask dips as he nods.

Luke has used your lapse of focus to draw himself close to you again. He takes your ankle once more and guides it to rest in his lap, one hand tight— holding you in place— and the other deftly undoing the buckles on your boot. After a few clinks, he pulls it from your foot, the leather dragging down over your skin and leaving it cold. He throws the boot at his twin’s leg.

Kieran huffs as it tumbles to the floor. He doesn’t look away from the computer, but you know he wants to. Now that’s professional.

Decidedly committed to another priority, Luke draws shapes on your lower leg, his finger grazing over your shin and ankle. He’s staring down, fixated, and maybe they aren’t shapes— maybe they’re letters. Every stroke of his finger is deliberate. You could ask what he’s writing, but you really don’t care so long as it’s more than a word or two.

If it is, he doesn’t have the patience for it. His fingers walk higher, stopping only as they reach your knee. The fabric of your dress is draped over your leg and he pushes it aside, letting it slink closer to the floor. He looks up at you, head angled like a question.

“Any progress?” Sylus asks.

You’re holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder, both hands splayed on the desk beside you so you can lean slightly back. “Getting there,” you say, lips curving. You’re not looking at the computer.

You could swear you hear Luke laugh, but it’s ever so faint. He rests his whole hand on you, warming your lower leg with broader strokes, and whatever he wrote has been erased. Your breath catches as his touch moves above your knee, and it’s a tiny sound; no-one would notice.

Kieran’s mask turns towards you. “Oh, come on,” he sighs. “No fair.”

It’s an intimate art: seeing behind a mask. You have to notice everything.

“So hurry up,” Luke answers, his voice heavier than the last time he spoke. His chest rises and falls with every breath, just a little slower, a little deeper.

Kieran rolls his eyes—you guess, from the listless way his attention goes back to the screen— and you detect a huff. “Not fair,” he says to himself. He repeats it as he punches keys with his fingers: “Not fair. Not fair.”

Luke shakes his head gently: a fond exasperation rather than anything serious. He rolls his chair closer until he’s framed by your legs, then lifts your ankle to rest on his shoulder. His fingers curl, the pads of them brushing over the top of your foot idly, but it tickles, so you try to pull away. He grasps your ankle again. “Nuh-uh, kitten,” he teases.

It’s one of your favourite in-jokes; you laugh. Sylus can still hear you, and you’re glad he doesn’t know it’s at his expense. “Something funny?” he asks. Maybe he does know.

“Yeah,” you say. He could string you upside-down with his Evol and you’d still never tell him what.

Luke is chuckling to himself, and the sound changes as he lifts his mask just enough to free the lower half of his face. It’s not the first time, but it sobers you instantly. He turns to press his lips to your ankle, leans in— kisses further up. Leans in again— his mouth moves higher.

“Why so wriggly?” he speaks into your knee. “Stop.”

“You stop,” you counter, reaching forward to grab one of the horns peeking out of his hood. You use it to pull him away. Make him look at you. “Your little book on conquest doesn’t work on me.”

His lips widen into a smirk.  

“What book?” Sylus’s voice echoes.

You smirk as well. “Ask your pet hunter.”

You’re interrupted by a thud and your head spins. Kieran is standing up, slapping the top of the computer in frustration. “C’mon, work!” he urges. “So freakin’ slow.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You shoo him away from the computer like you would a too-friendly pigeon from your lunch.

He flaps back in answer, his hand engaging yours in a brief slap-fight before he backs down. He slumps into his chair, defeated. “It’s almost there,” he groans, folding his arms. “Hey, Luke? Wanna swap?”

“No.”

“Do it,” you prompt.

Luke’s head rolls begrudgingly. “Yes ma’am. Jeez.” He plants a warm kiss on your leg again before clambering out from underneath it, pulling his mask back down over his face.

Another moment later and Kieran is in front of you instead. “You ok?” you wonder out loud.

“Bored.” He rests his head sideways on your thigh. His fingers find your bare lower leg and he runs them up, down, up, down, but it’s soft and purposeless. Soon, his head lifts— thin, red eyes staring up at you. The gaze doesn’t waver as he leans back in his chair and starts to unfasten your other boot.

“She’s gonna get cold,” Luke quips from the computer.

“Nah. She’s not.”

Your skin prickles as Kieran pulls away your boot, like a reflection of his brother, but tortuously more slow. He lets the cool air of the room set in. “Huh,” he corrects himself. “Maybe she is.”

You get the sense you’re being punished; both of them are petty. You’re pettier, though. “Sylus?” you speak into the phone.

“Mmm?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time that Kieran— ah!”

In a heartbeat Kieran has lifted his mask— not enough, but enough— and planted a kiss above your knee. His hand is around your leg, pushing it further from the other, and you can’t help but gasp again.

“What are you…” Sylus starts to ask, but then he changes his mind. “No. I don’t want to know.”

“You sure, boss?” you chuckle breathlessly. “It might surprise you.”

“Nothing would surprise me at this point, sweetie. Those files had better be on their way.”

You tear your gaze away from Kieran to glance over at Luke. He’s sat, propped on an elbow, his chin in his palm, and he’s definitely not looking at the computer. He sits up straight under your scrutiny. Turns to the screen. After a few more drums of the keyboard, he gives you a thumbs up.

“Got it,” Sylus chimes in, no doubt perusing the files already. “Nothing seems amiss. Nice work.”

“Thanks, boss,” you grin. “I’ve been working very, very hard.”

The phone is snatched from your hand. “She has, sir!” Kieran speaks into it. He stands, putting it on speaker before setting it down beside you. “I think she deserves the night off.”

There’s a crash as he shoves the computer from the desk, and Luke leans back, swinging his feet up onto the now empty space. He lifts his mask marginally to put two fingers to his lips, whistling in celebration. There’s a slow clap for good measure, too.

Kieran bows to him with a flourish. Then to you; you bow your head back.

“I’m hanging up,” Sylus states plainly.

“Ok,” you chirp, distracted. “I hope she calls you soon, boss!”  

“I don’t… I’m not…” your leader stutters. He reconsiders. “Thank you. Don’t think, however, that I’m—”

He doesn’t get to finish the warning, threat, or whatever else it was. Luke’s finger stands proudly on the phone, still connected to the ‘end call’ button. “What?” he dismisses as you and Kieran look at him. “I slipped! If boss asks, you saw me slip.”

“I did see it,” Kieran nods.

“I saw it too,” you add solemnly.  

There’s silence for a single moment, and there’s never silence with you three around. It lasts as long as it usually does.

You all burst into laughter.

[pulsarsatellite]

hello Duck Ily

Prehistoric Paradise

What's up I made a sequel to DLNS. This is not a joke. You can read the first chapter right here!

Here's the synopsis:

Keep reading

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 2

Part 1 2 3

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.

Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.

She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants. For a while that was enough.

As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.

"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.

Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."

I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."

I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.

Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."

I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"

"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."

I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."

She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."

She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.

The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.

"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."

"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-

Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.

I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak. 

What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?

"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'

"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"

"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."

My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.

I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.

He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"

I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.

Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.

We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"

Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."

Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"

Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.

I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."

A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.

When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."

I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.

I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."

I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."

"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.

Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.

I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.

Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.

He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."

I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.

Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"

"Like what?" he draws nearer.

I whip my head, "THIS!"

Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"

I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."

"I am, with both eyes."

"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'

"Should I feel something?"

My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."

Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."

I look up at him.

"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."

My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.

I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.

Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."

I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.

"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."

I step back and make way for him to exit.

He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.

"And have you-"

Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.

"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"

I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."

The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."

I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.

Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"

I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.

Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.

"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"

Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."

Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.

Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."

Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.

I continue, "she makes me happy."

"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."

I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."

Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."

I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."

With that, he walks away.

"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.

I sigh and turn Daisy.

I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.

It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.

I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.

I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."

The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.

Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.

He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.

The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.

He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.

"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"

The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.

"What?!" he seethes.

"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!" 

Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.

He draws his sword.

Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.

To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"

"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.

Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"

"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"

"Its leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."

Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"

I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.

Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.

Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.

I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."

"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."

I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."

Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.

"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"

My expression drops.

"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"

I am unable to speak. 

Why is he doing this to me?

"Well?!" he demands.

I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"

"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."

I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.

"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."

The Hound storms off right after.

He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.

He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.

His insides feel like they were boiling.

He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.

He should have killed it.

Now it was too late.

"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."

I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."

I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."

Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."

I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.

"Where is your hound?" he asks.

I stiffen.

He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."

I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."

"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."

A breeze brushes past us.

I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."

"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"

He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."

I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.

"Other things perhaps," he says.

I do not respond to him.

A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.

I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."

Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.

"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."

I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"

His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."

I do not move an inch.

"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."

I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."

He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."

I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.

We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.

"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.

"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."

We share a soft laugh.

He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."

I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"

He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."

When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.

"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."

I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"

Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."

I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."

He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."

I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.

It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.

I did not.

This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.

And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.

I rub my belly, willing the dread away.

I refuse to believe he meant that.

I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.

Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.

My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.

"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.

He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"

"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."

The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"

I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."

Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.

He looks away and shifts back in place.

I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.

"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me. 

I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."

Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.

I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."

His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"

King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"

I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."

Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."

He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."

The door slams shut.

I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.

Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.

I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"

"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"

My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"

He scoffs.

I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."

"I'd like not to see you whoring around."

I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."

The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."

Sandor shifts on his spot.

I continue down the hall.

His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."

I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.

"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"

The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"

I begin to shuffle back.

"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."

I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.

I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.

When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.

I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.

The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.

I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."

I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.

I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.

"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.

I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."

I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.

"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."

His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.

I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.

I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.

The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.

I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.

I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.

Was... was it done?

"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.

All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.

All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.

My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.

I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.

We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.

I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.

I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.

We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."

Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."

My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"

She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."

"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."

"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."

We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."

Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"

The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.

"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."

I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.

I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"

He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."

He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.

"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."

I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.

Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.

I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"

"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.

Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"

"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."

Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.

"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's come from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."

He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.

The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.

It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.

Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.

Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.

He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.

"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"

[wholoveseggs]

Part 1 was fab, thanks so much darling, so why not a part 2? Alright so months later Y/N (me) is on her spring break vacation and she somehow manages to convince Elijah and Klaus to take her on a yacht. Rebekah had bragged to Kol and his brothers also hinted at what happened previously with Y/N so then he says he wanted to join too. Kol and Y/N have fun skinny dipping in the ocean and when it lands on the island, it’s quite literally a fuckfest. So it’s 3 brothers x Y/N although I want to make this one a reader insert if that’s okay. {kinks: cock choking/gagging, tit fucking, overstimulation fucking, lots of degradation, little praise, ass play, squirting, double penetration, and messy/sloppy sex (idk if that’s a kink tbh)}.

Magnificent

Did I spend a long time on google trying to find an image of them together? yes

Did I give up? also yes... So instead... here are three pictures of them in the sun...

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Just a quick little ménage à quatre with Klaus, Elijah and Kol... on spring break...

♡♡ Thanks for the request darling Aurora... this was such an insane challenge and I loved every minute of it. I personally wouldn't survive this, but it was fun to write! ♡♡

8.8k words - Warnings: this is by far the wildest thing I've ever written, smut smut and more smut, my Elijah bias coming in hot... dom!Mikaelsons, blowjobs, oral sex, rim job (f!receiving), gagging, overstimulation, choking, squirting, anal, dp, beach sex, yacht sex.... it really is a fuckfest. So much cum, a ton of dirty talk, sir kink, daddy kink, lots of degradation and praise... probably missing something, but you get the gist.. it's extremely horny... so strap in and enjoy...

You stretched out on the sofa at the Mikaelson compound, phone in hand, browsing through social media. You let out a heavy sigh as you scrolled through your friend's photos on vacation, posted only a few hours ago. You were happy for them, really. You just wished you had fun things to do too. It was spring break and you had no plans, Rebekah was supposed to be here, the two of you planned to spend the week together. But she ditched you to go to Mystic Falls to go see some guy named Matt who didn't even seem very interesting.

Elijah walked in, lifting your legs so he could sit on the sofa. He set your legs down on his lap, and you continued to browse your phone, noticing another picture of a girl in a bikini, holding a margarita, in front of the ocean.

You let out a huff, closing the app, and dropping the phone on to your chest.

"What is the matter?" Elijah asked, placing a hand on your shin, caressing you gently.

"Everyone is having fun on their spring breaks, except me. I don't have any plans," you complained, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why don't we go on the yacht for a few days?" Elijah suggested, a smile forming on his lips.

"You have a yacht?" You asked, sitting up on the sofa, resting your back against the armrest.

"Of course we do darling," said Klaus, who just entered the room, standing behind the sofa, putting his hands on the backrest and looking down at you.

You gave him a wide smile and then glanced at Elijah, their proximity reminding you of a certain memory. Your cheeks flushed as you remembered the way they had both fucked you senseless. You bit your lower lip, as your eyes traveled from Elijah's eyes, down to his lips.

After your ménage with Rebekah and the boys you had come back for more from Elijah. The two of you had a series of secret rendezvous, whenever the rest of the family were away. Elijah had a way of making you feel so good, and when things got really heated he made you call him something special. Something only the two of you shared.

"Sunshine, endless sands, alcohol, good music, the sea... What more do you need?" Klaus said, smirking when he caught the look on your face, breaking you out of your dirty thoughts.

"That all sounds wonderful... What else is going to happen there?" You asked, as Elijah ran a finger up your shin, his hand traveling up to your bare thigh.

"Whatever you desire," Elijah said, giving you a knowing smirk.

"Can we bring Kol?" You asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

They both looked surprised and a little annoyed, it amused you to see their expressions.

"Why?" Klaus asked, his lips pursed, and brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Why not?" You shrugged. "We are just going to have fun. And besides... He's always being left out," you said, trying to be as neutral as possible, looking at both men as you said this, trying to read their reactions.

Elijah just looked at you, trying to hide the jealousy, but his face was giving everything away. Ever since you hooked up with them, you realized how much power you held over them. They would literally do anything you asked. Of course you would never take advantage of that power... At least not very much... You just wanted to be able to have a little bit of fun and spice things up with the three men, and it wasn't going to work without Kol.

"Kol can be... Insatiable," Elijah warned, giving you a knowing look.

"Kol behaves like a horny teenager, love. Don't you want this to be a classy affair?" Klaus added, his gaze moving over your body.

"Please?" You asked, looking at them with wide, innocent eyes, a teasing smile on your lips.

"Very well, if you wish for Kol to come, he can come. Just try to keep him under control," Elijah said, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

Klaus groaned and bowed his head in defeat, running his fingers through his hair.

You beamed, hopping on Elijah's lap, straddling his hips. "So when can we leave?" you asked, your eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Elijah grabbed your ass with both hands, kneading your cheeks, "we can go tonight."

You cupped his face, "oh I can't wait! It's going to be so much fun," you exclaimed, pressing a quick peck to Elijah's lips and then jumping off his lap and heading to pack, getting ready for your little adventure with your three favorite guys.

The yacht was extravagant to say the least, meticulously decorated and very well kept. You were in your private quarters, unpacking your various bikinis, deciding on what to wear to go sunbathe. You felt two hands grab you from behind and turned your head, seeing Kol smirking at you.

"I don't know how you did it but thank you," he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it.

You leaned against him, humming, closing your eyes. He squeezed your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, taking a look at the bikinis that you had sprawled on the bed.

"Oh, this one's nice," he said, grabbing one of the pieces of cloth, "but I'd like it better on my floor," he chuckled.

You chuckled too, "why am I not surprised?" you said, grabbing it from him.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and let you go. He laid down on the bed, stretching like a lazy cat. You decided on one of your new bikinis and headed to the bathroom to change into it.

Kol sat up and watched you walk away, "why aren't you changing in here? There's plenty of space," he said, scooting back on the bed, making room for you.

"What gave you the impression I would do that?" you teased.

Kol gave you an offended look, placing a hand on his heart. You shook your head and closed the door, getting changed quickly, and returning to your room. You sat on the bed next to him and pulled out your tanning lotion from your suitcase, taking the time to lather your arms and legs in it. Kol's eyes followed your movements, watching your fingers trail along your skin. You glanced at him and smiled when you saw him lick his lips as you put more lotion on your hand and applied it on your chest.

He reached over and took the lotion from your hands and gestured for you to get on his lap. You turned and sat sideways, your legs dangling off the bed. He massaged your shoulders, then moved to your arms and your back. You let your head fall back against his shoulder as his hands traveled along your body.

"I heard this rumor," he whispered, his breath warm on your ear, "about you having a bit of fun with my siblings," he said, as he slipped his hand under the hem of your bikini bottom and squeezed your butt cheek, "and me being left out," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You turned to face him, "who told you that?"

He gave you a smug smile, "let's just say, someone has been doing a little bit of gossiping about what happens in the compound."

Your eyes widened when you realized what he meant, "Rebekah!" You gasped. "Well... Now she's the one who's being left out," you giggled.

Kol hummed in approval, his lips forming into a lopsided smile, his eyes wandering your face and neck, lingering on your chest. His gaze traveled to your cleavage, as you pressed your boobs together.

"So what you are saying is that it's true? Rebekah, Klaus and Elijah. How was that?" He asked, looking at your eyes again.

You blushed and averted your gaze, "good," you whispered, feeling his cock twitch underneath you. You laughed softly and swatted his arm, "why does that excite you so much?" You teased.

"Don't judge me, darling. You are just so damn beautiful, I thought you were all innocent and shy. I'm dying to hear you describe what they did to you... Tell me about it."

You smiled mischievously, moving to straddle his hips, "well... Rebekah and I touched each other while the guys were watching us..."

"God, that's so hot," he breathed out, running his hands up and down your thighs.

"Then they all took turns fucking me," you whispered, kissing along his jaw.

Kol's grip on your thigh tightened, "fuck, I would've loved to see that."

"I've been thinking about it ever since," you confessed, your eyes dark with lust, "and I'm not sure I had enough," you whispered, nipping at his earlobe, tugging at it.

"Do you think Klaus and Elijah would want to share you with me, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice deep and husky.

You bit your lower lip, grinding your ass on his cock, making him moan. "It's not up to them," you said, kissing him softly, "I decide who gets to fuck me," you murmured against his lips, grabbing his hands and moving them on your breasts, making him squeeze them, "and right now, I'd like it to be you," you purred.

You looked into his eyes, his hunger for you was palpable. You kissed down his chest, scooting back until your knees touched the floor. You pulled his swim trunks down. His erect cock sprung free. You stroked him slowly, watching the precum spilling out of his tip.

You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, placing your lips on the head of his cock, licking his slit. His fingers threaded through your hair as you took him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head, taking him in inch by inch, until you reached his base.

"That's it, darling, just like that," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

You hummed around him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking him hard, moaning at the taste of him. He rolled his hips, thrusting up into your mouth. You knew he was close, so you withdrew, smiling at him as he gave you a confused look.

"What are you doing darling?"

You stuck your tongue out, sliding the wide part of your tongue up and down his shaft. "I don't want you to cum just yet, I want you to fuck my mouth," you said, licking the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his.

"Oh, fuck, you are a dirty little thing, aren't you, darling?" He whispered, as he cupped your jaw with his hand.

"Mhm," you moaned, taking his tip in your mouth, sucking it gently, and looking at him, waiting for him to make a move.

He smirked, holding your hair, and pushing your head down untill your nose was pressed against his groin. You hummed, looking up at him, and relaxing your throat, letting him use your mouth. He began thrusting into your mouth, and you reached for his balls, squeezing them gently.

"Good girl. If only you could see yourself right now. Your lips stretched around my cock-"

"It's quite a sight," said the deep voice of Elijah, he was leaning in the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Klaus was standing behind him, amusement flashing in his eyes.

You pulled off of Kol and looked at them, blushing furiously. "Hi," you said in a small, raspy voice, wiping off the spit from your chin.

"Hello sweetheart," Klaus said, walking over to the bed. He brought his hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks.

"Aww look at your flushed little face," said Kol, pinching your cheek with his thumb and forefinger, smirking at you. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?" He teased, chuckling.

All three of them were towering over you and you had to crane your neck up to look at them. You were so wet from the sight, the three of them in only their swim trunks, exposing their toned chests, muscles bulging. You just wanted to jump in bed and have them take turns with you.

You shuffled a bit on your knees so you were between all three of them. They were looking down at you expectantly, Elijah ran his fingers through your hair, caressing your cheek with his thumb. All three pairs of eyes were glued to you, hooded and half closed. Your gaze was traveling from one perfect body to another. You could see their erections growing underneath the tight fabric of their swim trunks.

Kol stood up, his hard cock dangling next to your head. You circled it with your hand, gently stroking him, and looking up at him with pleading eyes. You didn't care which one of them it would be, as long as they were all going to fuck you.

You opened your mouth, waiting for one of them to fill it with his cock, Kol, who was the closest, was the first one to do it. You took his cock in your mouth again, bobbing your head, and looking up at him. 

You reached out with your other hand and pulled Elijah closer by the waistband of his shorts, touching his hard on through the fabric. His breathing got heavier and he smiled, helping you free him from his confinement, hissing when you wrapped your hand around him.

You looked up at Klaus, a lustful look on your face. He gave you an amused smirk, shaking his head in disbelief, taking his time to observe you, clearly enjoying the way you begged him for his cock without even using words.

You batted your lashes at him, and he obliged, taking himself in hand, giving it a few strokes and stepping closer to you. 

You pulled off of Kol, with a loud 'pop' and turned your head slightly to lick and nip Klaus's cock, all while pumping your hands up and down their lengths. They were groaning, pulling you closer, pressing against your face, leaking for you.

"Get it nice and wet for me love," Klaus said, the smirk still playing on his lips, "show me how thankful you are for this little vacation," he taunted you, "be a good girl for us."

You hummed, eagerly taking him in your mouth, sucking him hard. You took Elijah and Kol in your hands, and stroked them simultaneously, the sounds of their moans made your pussy throb.

"I don't think good girls do this, Nik," Kol said, tilting his head and grinning down at you.

Klaus moved his hips, slowly pushing himself deeper into your mouth. He released a breathy moan, watching you swallow his cock, flattening your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You swirled your tongue around him. He tangled his hand in your hair, his eyes closed, mouth parted in a low grunt. 

"What a good little whore, taking all of me in," he praised, rolling his hips, thrusting shallowly in your mouth.

You moaned at his dirty words, making Kol chuckle, "I think she likes when you call her that, brother."

Klaus smirked, pulling his length out and gave you cheek a little slap with his cock, "Mhm... She does, doesn't she? "

He entered your mouth again, shoving his cock down your throat, holding your face in place. You gagged, letting out a muffled whimper as he pressed your face into his groin. Klaus's mouth fell open, and he let out a moan that was so low and guttural that it made you almost cum. He rocked his hips, fucking your mouth so deeply, watching tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

You tried to keep the pace with your hands on Elijah and Kol's cocks, but you were unable to concentrate. Your legs were trembling, wetness pooling between your legs.

Klaus held your face between his strong hands, still buried deep in your throat, using you like a doll, "good slut," he said in a strained, breathy voice, thrusting into you a few more times and releasing your face.

You almost fell forward, catching your breath, gasping for air. A trail of spit dribbled down your chin. You blinked a couple of times, looking up at the three men, their hungry, lustful eyes boring into yours.

"Finish me off and then do Kol," Klaus ordered, grabbing you by the hair.

You kept your eyes on him as you gave him a couple of long and slow licks. You brought your hand up to his pulsing shaft, rubbing your thumb against the leaking tip of his cock. He threw his head back, grunting, his hips bucking. You took the tip of him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down, sucking him quickly and moving your hand in quick motions.

"Yeah... Yeah, just like that, sweetheart," he groaned, slapping your hand away, and thrusting into your mouth a few more times, before pulling out and releasing his load on your face.

Kol and Elijah looked down at you, pride flaring in their eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Clean the mess up," Klaus grunted, smearing his cock across your lips.

You lapped up the cum from his cock, humming in pleasure. He watched you intently as you swallowed and then smiled.

Elijah and Kol were pumping themselves, groaning, waiting for their turn. The view of them, hard and aching for you, their muscles flexing and their mouths parted, was so fucking hot. You felt so powerful, having all three of them so worked up and turned on.

“What a filthy little pet," Elijah said, still stroking his length leisurely.

Klaus moved away, sitting on the bed to watch the show. You pivoted on your knees to face Kol. He had a predatory smile on his face, "shall I do you in the same fashion my other brother did, or would you prefer something different?" He asked, his eyes darting to your cleavage for a split second.

His hands went to your throat, lifting your face up to meet his gaze, his other hand coming up to your face, caressing your cheekbone. He dipped his head and kissed your breasts, hooking his fingers inside the fabric and yanking it down. He sucked one of your tits in his mouth, nibbling, and biting until you winced.

"God, you are gorgeous," he said, pinching a nipple roughly, swiping his tongue around the other, moaning around it.

You were so aroused, being at the mercy of the three of them. Each of them dominating you in their own manner. You were so excited that you were trembling in anticipation.

You gasped as Kol grabbed a fist full of your hair, guiding you crouch in front of him so your breasts were in line with his hard length, "open," he said, his tone harsher than before. You opened up and he started to shallowly fuck your mouth.

"Press your tits around it," he ordered, slowing his thrusts down. You pressed your tits around his cock, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting his precum. His head rolled back and he let out a deep groan, slowly fucking the valley of your breasts.

"Fuck that feels amazing," he moaned, making sure his length was sliding between your breasts as he moved his hips, creating friction and using your spit to further lubricate his cock.

You moved your hands, leaning back a little. You took your nipples between your index and forefinger, twirling them in different directions, you were so turned on that could could probably cum just from playing with your boobs.

"Enjoying yourself are you?" Kol sneered, "I didn't say you could do that," he said, stopping his hips altogether and grabbing you by your throat again.

You whined around him as your head was pulled back, his shaft slipping from your mouth.

"Use your hands to move your tits," he said, slowly circling his hips, fucking your mouth again. Your eyes drifted to Elijah, who was leisurely working his hand up and down his rock hard cock, watching the scene playing out.

"You look so pretty like that," Elijah said with his velvet voice, his signature smirk playing on his lips.

Kol's thumb was running back and forth over your throat, "does my cock please you?" He asked, with a naughty glint in his eye.

You were too focused on all the sensations to answer and he didn't take well to that. He squeezed your throat and pulled you away, bringing your face close to his, "I asked you a question, answer," he ordered through gritted teeth.

"Y-yes it does, Kol" you managed to breathe out, your cheeks blushing.

His smirk widened, and he loosened his grip on you. He ran the pad of his thumb over your lips, looking between your eyes and your lips. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

"Sir," he corrected you.

You felt heat spreading through your entire body, "yes sir," you whispered, looking up at him.

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes flashed with excitement, "Good girl," he praised, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip and sliding it inside your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it and you moaned softly. Kol grabbed your wrist and directed your hand to his cock, moving it up and down.

"Put this mouth to use now," he breathed out, tucking his hand back in your hair, tilting your head back a bit, making you look up at him.

You maintained eye contact as you teased him, kissing up and down his shaft, "take all of me," he grunted, resting his hand on your cheek as you circled the tip of his cock with your tongue.

Your eyes widened at the demanding tone of his voice, and did as you were told, closing your mouth around him, opening it wider, taking in more and more of him.

He tapped your cheek lightly, "what a slut," he teased, rolling his hips, pushing himself deeper down your throat. You gagged, your hands gripping his thighs, squeezing them, trying to steady yourself. He kept thrusting, his balls slapping your chin. You were drooling around him, the sound of your gags filled the room.

"Oh, yeah just like that, baby," he said, holding you in place.

You gagged some more and tried to breathe through your nose, tilting your head back, letting him use your throat as his own personal fucktoy. The corners of your mouth were aching and you were drooling, small moans escaping you.

He didn't pull out once, as he was chasing his release. Your jaw was aching but you were enjoying this dominance over you. He let out a low groan and pulled out completely, tugging roughly at his hard length until he came all over your chest and your face, his warm cum spilling over your breasts.

Kol tucked himself in his shorts and flopped down in the nearby armchair, draping an arm over his face with his usual dramatic flair, "damn..." He tilted his head and gave you a long look, his eyes trailing up and down your form. Kneeling on the ground, trembling and disheveled in your bikini, completely fucked out and sticky with cum all over your chest and your face.

"Oh, sweetheart, you are an incredible sight to see," he laughed, sinking into the chair with a relaxed demeanor. "Don't you think Elijah?" He smirked at the older Mikaelson brother who was still standing in front of you, his bottom lip between his teeth.

Elijah was giving you the most intense, penetrating stare, eyes boring into yours, a hint of a smile quirking his lips up. You pivoted on your knees to face him, stroking him up and down as you looked up at him through your lashes, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Oh, I could get used to this view," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You caught his digit with your lips and hummed softly, swirling your tongue around the pad of his thumb.

"Do you like having our cocks in your mouth?" He whispered, dark eyes looking deep into yours.

You nodded, whimpering in response as his finger slipped past your lips, plunging into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning around it, and lowering your hand to play with his balls. You caressed them gently, cupping them, giving them a soft squeeze.

"What a perfect whore you are," he said, freeing his finger from your mouth and pressing the dripping tip of his cock against your lips. You parted your lips and let him push his length into your mouth. You took him deep, all the way down your throat, making him curse and release a satisfied moan.

He placed his hands on your cheeks, guiding you as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking him harder. He was the biggest out of the three brothers and took a while to get used to his length and the width of his cock.

He pressed your head down further, stilling it and holding you in place until you gagged, your hands coming up to grip his thighs in an attempt to ground yourself.

"That's it, take it all in," he cooed, running his hand through your hair.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes and you tried to swallow around him as you choked.

"I can do whatever I want to your pretty little mouth and I will have you worshiping me just the way I like," he said as he slowly pulled his length out. You were gasping for air, blinking away the tears that had formed in your eyes and desperately trying to catch your breath.

He raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for a response, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You opened your mouth, he didn't give you a chance to answer him before he was pushing himself back inside. He thrusted deeply, snapping his hips and forcing the entirety of his length down your throat. His hips snapped sharply, fucking your throat hard and fast. You continued to choke on him and you squeezed his thigh, struggling to breathe.

"Good girl, I want to see those tears stream down your cheeks" he moaned, picking up the pace and continuing to fuck your mouth, the feeling you gagging turning him on even more.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, the look on his face made you moan, his lips parted, his eyes watching you with lust. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him cum.

He slowed his hips and you took the opportunity to press you head all the way down, deep throating him then pulling off and repeating this. You gagged with every pass, maintaining eye contact with him.

"God, I love seeing you like this," he breathed, his hips jerking. He grabbed your hair and pressed you against his groin, holding you there, your nose buried in the coarse, dark hair around the base of his cock.

"Mmmmm" you moaned, choking, the vibrations of your moan caused Elijah to release a deep, guttural sound and his hips to buck involuntarily. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tighten and he held your head in place as he emptied himself into your throat. You swallowed eagerly, milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You kept sucking him, cleaning his length and pulling more from him untill he softened.

You looked up at him, waiting for his next order. He was standing above you, breathing heavily, his face flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded.

He stroked your cheek, his fingers brushing your bottom lip, his expression unreadable, "such a perfect little cock whore aren't you?" He said in a low voice.

You smiled and nodded, humming, looking around at the three of them. All of them were breathing hard, their skin covered in a sheen of sweat. They looked absolutely breathtaking, lounging around and completely spent, the satisfied smiles on their faces making your heart swell with pride.

You were a mess as well, kneeling on the ground in front of them, trembling, panting, sweating. Your bikini top was ripped and all you were wearing was the skimpy bottom, your skin was sticky with their cum. The taste of all three of them lingering on your lips.

Kol stood and suddenly scooped you up, carrying you bridal style to the deck of the yacht, you shrieked and giggled as he ran.

The sunlight blinded you momentarily, and you blinked, tucking your head in his neck to shield your eyes from the blazing sun and take a deep breath.

"Ahh look, a beautiful beach right up ahead!" He said, laughing, his breath tickling your skin. "I want to fuck you on the sand, doll," he said in a rushed whisper, making you wriggle in his arms.

"Kol!!!" You protested, trying to break free, but he held you tight as he ran towards the side of the boat, stopping in the nick of time, "what are you doing? Oh, my god! You're crazy!" You were laughing, and cursing as you struggled against his grip, your hands cradling the back of his head.

"I am darling," he said, then jumped off the edge of the yacht with you in his arms, into the water below.

You screamed before you hit the water, bubbles rising up around you. Once you emerged, Kol pulled you back into his arms, peppering your face with kisses.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, arms circled around his neck, giggling, "you scared me."

"Sorry, it was too tempting. I couldn't help myself," he said between kisses and giving you an unapologetic smile.

You splashed water at him and he responded by diving underwater, pulling at the fabric of your bikini bottoms and yanking it off you. He swam to the surface and waved the fabric in his hand, "this is mine now."

"What?! Kol!" You said, swimming towards him and grabbing his shoulders, "give it back!" You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He kissed your nose, his eyes darting over to the beach, "I'll let you have it back after I've had you on beach," he said, smirking.

"No!" You shrieked and giggled, trying to wrestle him and snatch the material from his hand.

"Give them back Kol," Elijah's voice rang out from above, him and Klaus were leaning over the side of the yacht, looking down at the two of you.

Kol ignored them and threw the bottoms as far as he could, you immediately lost sight of them in the ocean waves.

"KOL!" You squealed, hitting his chest.

He let out a sharp, short laugh, "you don't need them, sweetheart, we are the only ones out here, just relax, enjoy yourself," he was massaging your ass in his large hands, tugging your cheeks apart, spreading you open, squeezing your flesh.

"Besides, I love the idea of you walking around naked," he added, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

He carried you to the shore, pressing you down into the wet sand. He pinned your hands over your head, kissing and nuzzling your neck, "be a good little whore, won't you? Stay still for me."

You hummed, nodding and squirming underneath him, he had you pinned under his weight and he was grinding his hard cock against your clit, making you gasp and arch your back.

He sunk his fangs into your neck, eliciting a yelp from you, "be still," he repeated, licking the spot that he just bit, soothing the tender flesh. He eased his cock into you, filling you slowly, inch by inch.

His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart and rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of you. The sand was rough and hot against your skin and your back was moving up and down the sandy ground with each thrust. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, but you didn't care at the moment.

Your heels dug into the back of his legs, egging him on, angling your hips up for him. You were focused on his fangs grazing your neck, his grunts and heavy breathing, his cock nudging against your g-spot with every stroke.

He had you gasping and squirming underneath him, he smirked at you through hooded eyes, picking up the pace, hearing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours over the crashing waves.

"Cum all over my cock, darling," he breathed in your ear, as his pace quickened, his strokes became sloppy and uncoordinated as he neared his own climax.

You squeezed around him and let go, arching up to kiss him and moaning into his mouth as you shook, waves of pleasure flowing through you. He was relentless, pounding you fast and hard, stilling his hips and releasing deep inside you, letting out a primal grunt.

You were both sweating and completely out of breath as you stayed connected. You slid your hands up his arms and into his hair, smiling up at him.

"Enjoy yourself?" He asked, his damp hair falling into his face, droplets clinging to his forehead.

"Always," you whispered, pulling him closer, and pecking his lips.

He was about to say something else when Klaus' voice boomed, interrupting him.

"Ship is leaving, you two! Stop fucking and get back on board!"

Kol chuckled and looked over his shoulder at his brother, "we're not done yet, Nik! We're staying on this island and finding that missing bikini bottom," he shouted back.

You laughed and pushed on Kol's chest, "come on, you idiot, let's get back to the boat."

"Fine," he said, with an exaggerated sigh.

You swam your way back to the boat and climbed up the nearby ladder. Elijah was standing at the top of it, waiting for you, you stumbled as you clambered up the last few rungs of the ladder and would have face planted, if his strong hands hadn't caught you.

"Hello there," he flashed you a grin, "having fun I see," he surveyed the multiple love bites across your neck and shoulder with a hint of amusement.

"Hi," you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, admiring the hair curled there. He was your favorite of the three, the way he would look at you made your heart race, his deep voice made your knees weak.

The private hook-ups the two of you have had were always the most intense. You weren't sure what it was, but there was a fire between the two of you, one that burned hotter than the others.

"Where is Kol?" Elijah asked, looking over your shoulder.

"Still looking for my bikini," you said, giggling, "he won't find it, it's too far gone."

"Well, in the meantime," he said, before leaning in and kissing you slowly and passionately, gliding his hands up your bare back. You smiled against his lips, looping your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss.

He guided you backwards to the built in couches that lined the side of the boat, pushing you down onto the seat. You let out a soft gasp from the impact, looking up at him and biting your lip. He was towering above you, the sun illuminating his muscular form, making his skin glow.

He smiled and kneeled before you, his hands running up and down your thighs. He continued to spread them, leaning forward to kiss your stomach, making you giggle. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled you towards him, kissing his way down, trailing his lips over your inner thighs, sucking and nipping at the skin.

He ran his nose over your mound and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit, "so lovely," he breathed, his warm breath caressing your already sensitive pussy. He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your clit, flicking the tip.

He hummed as he tasted you, pressing his mouth to your pussy lips and sucking on them, drawing a long moan from you. He flicked and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue, before closing his lips around it and sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the nub.

"Eli," you whined, letting out a long moan, running your hands through his thick hair. He hummed, the vibrations sending tingles through your whole body.

He moved his tongue to your entrance, slipping it in, licking up the slickness. He fucked you with his tongue, his thumb coming up to massage your clit.

You were a moaning, writhing mess under his mouth, so lost in bliss you didn't notice Klaus sitting down next to you until he spoke.

"Hello, love," he smirked, taking a sip from his glass.

"Hey," you moaned, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek, running a finger over his bottom lip.

He grabbed your hand and kissed your fingers, before placing the cool, crystal glass to your lips.

You sipped the cool, bubbly liquid, looking up at him, eyes sparkling, "thanks."

He set the glass down, and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips and dipping inside. You gasped into Klaus' mouth as Elijah's tongue dipped between you cheeks, licking up and down, teasing your entrance, before circling his tongue around the tight ring.

You whimpered as he licked you and Klaus chuckled, kissing his way down your neck.

Kol finally appeared, standing over the two of them, watching as they ravished you, "look what I found," he said, dangling a bikini bottom from his fingers.

"I don't think she needs it," Klaus said, his breath tickling your neck.

"True," Kol said, tossing the scrap of material away and sitting on the couch next to you, reaching out to pluck a bottle of champagne out of an ice bucket, before taking a long drink and pouring some down your chest and torso.

Elijah licked the bubbles off your chest, giving special attention to your breasts, before making his way up and claiming your mouth again. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands were gripping your thighs, keeping them spread open.

"Such a perfect slut for us," he breathed. You moaned, gyrating your hips, craving their touch, your body flushed with desire. Elijah moved back down, kissing your stomach, making his way back between your legs.

Your fingers curled in Elijah's damp hair, massaging his scalp as he kept his mouth on you. The warmth in your belly was spreading and the tightness building. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, as he sent you over the edge, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking as your orgasm ripped through your body.

You gushed over his face, moaning and gasping at the stimulation, panting as you came down from your high. He sucked a little harder, making you kick your legs and try to push away.

"Too much, Eli!" you pleaded, unable to escape his vice-like grip.

He didn't stop and just gave you a smirk, making a show of it, and enjoying the look of pleasure and agony on your face.

He hummed softly, pressing two fingers into your ass, causing you to cry out and squeeze your thighs together, as he continued his attack on your clit, "Eli, I can't, please"

Kol bit your earlobe, and you felt the sharpness of his teeth, "you can and you will, you'll give our brother exactly what he wants, won't you?"

You nodded, moaning in response, letting Elijah stretch you open, working another finger inside, his tongue swirling, licking, sucking.

"Eli-" you cried, pulling on his hair as you felt him plunge his fingers deep and curl them inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut, tears stung the corners of your eyes, it was overwhelming, so intense.

"Eli, I'm cumming, please, I'm-" the rest of your sentence was cut off, your whole body tensed, a loud, long, drawn out moan escaped you.

You couldn't control the shaking, your mind went blank, your body was flooded with endorphins and you were a puddle in the arms of Kol and Klaus, who held you as you came.

Elijah finally moved his mouth away, his fingers still in your ass, he kissed you hard and you tasted yourself on his tongue.

Klaus grabbed the bottle of champagne and handed it to Elijah, who drank deeply, wiping his mouth on his forearm. He pushed your thighs back, and Kol and Klaus hooked their arms under your knees, holding you open.

Elijah removed his fingers and pushed his trunks down to his thighs, grabbing his cock, stroking himself slowly, smirking as you watched him.

You swallowed, looking between the three men, feeling like a trapped animal, you had nowhere to go, they had you surrounded.

"What a sight, sweetheart, such a slut," Elijah praised, brushing his thumb over your clit. You jolted and whined, "so sensitive, aren't we? Poor little whore, you've been fucked so many times, your body is just aching to be used."

"Eli," you whispered, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. He chuckled, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, making you moan. "That's not what you call me when we are alone," he whispered, his dark eyes boring into yours, his expression stern, the veins rippling under his eyes.

You licked your lips, taking in a breath, Kol and Klaus exchanged glances, they didn't know about your private hookups with Elijah.

"I'm sorry... daddy," you replied, looking up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and innocent as they could be in this position.

He grinned, pleased with your answer and Klaus and Kol snickered, making Elijah's smile widen, showing his white teeth, "much better," he cooed, his grip tightening, as he aligned his cock with your ass, pushing past the rim, sinking deep inside.

Your hands flew to his wrists, squeezing tightly, your eyes pleading with him to go slow, even though you knew he wouldn't, and he didn't. He thrust hard and fast, making your toes curl, Klaus and Kol holding you tight and keeping you from wiggling away. 

They were both touching and groping, whispering dirty things in your ears, the combined attention had you soaring towards your next orgasm.

"You're such a little slut for us, aren't you? Our perfect, little, cock whore, aren't you darling?" Kol murmured, his hand cupping your breast, rolling and pinching the nipple. Klaus was playing with your other nipple, tugging and squeezing, and you were lost in their touch and words.

"Yes, I'm a little slut, please-" you gasped, arching up, the intensity of Elijah's thrusts sending shockwaves through you. Elijah's hand tightened on your throat, his cock plunging deep, making your eyes roll back and you let out a choked moan, the stretch was so good.

"Tell them," Elijah said, his voice was commanding, demanding, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Tell them how much of a filthy little slut you are," he said, his eyes staring directly into yours, his thrusts getting faster and sloppier.

You whined, squirming in their hold, the heat was building and your head was fuzzy. Kol gave you a light slap on the cheek, bringing you back, "tell us, sweetheart, don't keep us waiting."

"I'm a dirty little whore," you panted, looking up at Elijah, whose lips were curled into a devilish grin, "a cock-hungry little slut," he grunted, his hips snapping.

"You're ours, all ours, aren't you? You love this, being filled and stretched, being used by all three of us, don't you?" Kol's words had you clenching around Elijah's cock, your whole body was trembling, so close to your climax.

"Yes, yes, yes," you moaned, arching your back, feeling Klaus and Kol's hands exploring your body.

"Good girl," Elijah said, loosening his hold on your neck, "so obedient"

He withdrew his hips and snapped them forward, drawing a loud moan from you, which encouraged him, and he began fucking you, hard and fast, setting a brutal pace. He leaned down, capturing your mouth, kissing you tenderly, as if to apologize for the roughness of his thrusts.

"I want to see her ass stretched wide and gaping for us," Kol hummed, his hands roaming down your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh, as Elijah continued to pound into you.

Elijah was getting close, his hands were shaking, his face contorting with the effort to control himself, his mouth open in a silent moan. His hips stilled, he let out a guttural groan as he filled you, his cock twitching and pulsing, his cum dripping out of you.

He pulled out slowly, and Kol watched, entranced, watching how your ass gaped, and the cum leaking from you.

"Such a dirty, filthy, slut, sweetheart," Kol cooed, his fingers sliding down and rubbing your sensitive clit. You gasped and whimpered, the stimulation making you writhe and squirm, trying to escape his touch.

Klaus' hand covered your mouth, "shhhh, we're not done with you, darling, we want you to cum for us one more time." He looked at his brother and smirked, "do you think she can do it?"

You cried out, muffled by Klaus' hand, feeling him pinch your clit, before he pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs to straddle him. His lips found yours and you moaned into the kiss, he held you tightly, his hands on your waist, guiding you to his cock, "such a good girl, you're going to ride me, and you're not allowed to cum, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," you breathed.

"Good," he said, his voice was a low growl, his eyes flashing amber, he looked dangerous, and it made your blood rush and heart race. "Now make yourself useful," he smirked, smacking you hard on the ass.

You sank onto him, moaning as he stretched you, grinding against him, loving the feel of his cock rubbing inside you. He smacked your ass again, "come on, darling, move, I'm not getting any younger," he growled.

You lifted yourself and slid back down, rolling your hips and clenching around him. Elijah sat down on the couch and took your hand, placing it on his already hard cock, encouraging you to stroke him. He leaned forward and kissed you, his hand caressing your cheek, "so perfect, little one, keep riding my brother, I know you can do it."

Kol came up behind you, running his hands over your hips and down your legs, before sliding them up your stomach and cupping your breasts, rolling and squeezing them. He kissed your shoulder, and nibbled on the skin, his cock pressing into your ass, grinding against you.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you were panting and moaning, the tightness building in your core. Klaus grabbed your throat, squeezing, "look at me," he demanded. You forced your eyes open, gazing at him through your lashes, feeling light headed and dizzy, the pleasure building, the tightness almost painful.

"Don't cum, not yet," he ordered, and you whimpered, squeezing his cock, the feeling of being full was driving you crazy. You were close, so close, and he wasn't letting you finish.

"I'm sorry," you whined, stilling your hips, trying to pull away from his hand, "I can't, sir, I'm gonna cum."

Klaus pulled you forward by the neck, holding you tight against his chest, his hands on your ass, squeezing and massaging, spreading your cheeks wide. 

"Don't you dare move," Klaus growled in your ear, "and stay quiet, you don't want everyone to hear what a filthy whore you are, do you?"

You shook your head, biting your lip, burying your face in his neck, your breathing heavy. You felt Kol press his cock against your asshole and he slid in slowly. You cried out, the sound muffled by Klaus' shoulder.

Kol's hands gripped your waist and he started moving, fucking you in earnest. Klaus held your hips still, his fingers digging into your flesh. You were trapped between them, their cocks filling you. Kol's thrusts were hard and fast, each time he hit bottom, the air was pushed from your lungs, and you could only hold on and take it.

They were relentless, their bodies moving in unison, and when they picked up the pace, and you were on the brink, you had no choice but to let go.

You tried to stifle your moans, to hide the fact that you were coming apart between the two men, and they weren't having it.

Kol's hand found its way into your hair and he tugged, pulling your head back, "we said no, and yet, here you are, cumming without permission," he hissed, slamming his hips into yours, his cock pulsing.

"Such a naughty slut," Klaus added, reaching between your legs, rubbing your clit, and making you gasp, "such a bad girl," he said, his voice low, "and we know exactly what to do with bad girls, don't we Elijah?"

Elijah stood and stepped up onto the couch, and placed his cock on your cheek, "open your mouth, darling, you need to be taught a lesson," he demanded.

You obeyed, and his cock slipped into your mouth, he didn't let you have control, he held your head, pulling you flush into his groin, "take it, all the way," he urged, and you gagged, trying to relax your throat, your nose pressed into the hair at the base of his cock.

"Good girl, such a good slut," he praised, thrusting his hips, fucking your face, and you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of being used and filled by the three men.

Kol smacked your ass hard, over and over, until the skin was hot and sore, he slapped it again and again, as he fucked you, his movements becoming more erratic, his cock pulsed and twitched, and you felt his cum fill you.

His orgasm was intense, his breathing heavy, and when he was finished, he withdrew from you, laying back on the deck with his limbs spread, a goofy smile on his face. 

You were still full, your jaw ached, Elijah's cock was deep down your throat and you gagged around it, but he didn't relent, his hips bucking, fucking your face. Your vision was blurry, the tears in your eyes obscuring everything, you could only feel, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind numb, your body floating.

Elijah withdrew as Klaus tensed, he pulled you off his lap, forcing you to your knees, his cock in his hand, stroking himself. He groaned loudly as he came, ropes of white spurting out and landing on your face and chest. Elijah was right behind him, and he pulled your hair, his cock throbbing, his cum coating your tongue and lips, his groans reverberating through you. 

He released his grip, his hand running through your hair, his thumb running over your cheek, collecting their cum, and pushing it into your mouth, and you sucked it clean.

"That's our good girl," Klaus murmured, his finger caressing your jaw, as he admired his handiwork.

The boat drifted along, the waves crashing against the hull, and the sun was setting, painting the sky and ocean in a warm orange glow.

You laid on the floor, covered in cum, sweat, and champagne, surrounded by the three naked brothers, your body sore and aching.

You smiled and let out a contented sigh, you were sated and happy, and there was nothing that could ruin this perfect day.

"So, who's hungry?" Kol asked, his head propped on his hand, a mischievous grin on his face.

The other brothers chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and laughing at the insatiable man.

"Well, we should probably shower, get cleaned up, then we can figure out food," you suggested, looking around the mess that was once a pristine yacht. There were towels and champagne bottles strewn everywhere, the smell of sex and alcohol filling the air.

"What a wonderful idea," Elijah replied,  helping you to your feet, you fell over a bit, still wobbly from the rough treatment, and he caught you. He pulled you close and scooped you up, carrying you towards the jacuzzi. The three men climbed in, and Kol turned on the jets, the water bubbling, and the steam rose up.

The four of you were relaxed, the warm water soothing your aching muscles, Elijah pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

Kol and Klaus sat next to you, the two brothers leaning on the edge, their arms crossed over the side, their eyes closed. You looked around the tub, admiring the view of the ocean, the golden sunset reflecting on the water.

You thought about the events of the day, and the memories made, and it was clear, this was the most magnificent, decadent, and debaucherous spring break you would ever have.

And the best part was, it wasn't even over yet, this was only the first day.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to Elijah.

This was going to be the best week ever.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[iikatsukii]

When the clock resets.

synopsis: you’re brought back to life, unsure as to why eywa has given you another chance but as you return “home” things aren't quite the same. . 

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: um tbh none except minor cursing, running away, passing out, mentions of malnourishment due to you being dead but yk. oh and ao’nung being a mama’s boy.

word count: 6,064

a/n: THIS IS PART 2 OF TOO LATE!!!! unfortunately there is no red text this time but guys i am still not done with this series because i have a request for if the reader survived the first part. but i will be moving back over to illicit love for a little bit because i didn't even expect this story to blow up like i did. like yall i was just sad and here yall are feeding off my trauma. but its okay yall are my little angst hungry babies. :) (also huge fucking shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me this idea for pt. 2. go give them kisses for me and say i sent you :d)

taglist: @hai-kbai @ssc7514 @sillydog3-4-5 @hyunskz @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @rairaielv @freeauthordeputyartisan-blog @mel119g @ksata @artyom09 @marcswife21 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @andyfromku

(if youre name has a strike through it that means i wasnt able to tag you im so sorry guys i tried)

waking up felt extremely weird. you felt like you had taken the longest, heaviest nap ever. slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings.

you're in a shallow hole, you noticed as you looked around, and there was dirt around you. you look up at what you would think was the sky and see something else that you remember seeing before. you see the leaf covering that the omatikaya place over their passed-away loved ones. you usually see these leaf coverings from the outside. this caused a slight panic to settle in your chest?

why are you here? did you die? what the hell is going on?

you reached your arm up, still feeling weak from not moving your joints in you don't even know how long. you slowly press against the leaf covering, pushing it away from the hole and exposing the sun to your eyes. you shielded yourself before you felt a shadow standing over your form. it was mo'at. the tsahik of the omatikaya clan.

"tsahik?" it was the first word you said, and it caused mo'at to press a hand to her mouth in shock as tears sprang to her eyes. her granddaughter, who had passed away two years ago, was looking up to her from her grave that she had pushed open herself. the tsahik didn't understand. how could the great mother take you away for two years and let their family mourn and grieve your death just to send you back to them two years later?

this made no sense.

"come with me, my child," was the only thing mo'at said as she reached out to grab your hand. she intertwined your fingers, wanting to hold her granddaughter as close as possible, fearing losing you again. she helped you out of the hole slowly as you still had to get used to moving your arms and legs around again. 

"ma tsahik?" you asked the older woman standing before you. "what happened to me?"

she didn't turn to look at you as she said in a hushed, almost hurt, tone of voice, "you died two years ago," you were left speechless. you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. you tried to think back on what happened before you woke up from your 'nap,' but you couldn't remember anything. no matter how hard, no memories or thoughts came to your head.

"do not try to work your brain so hard trying to find answers that will come to you, my child. you'll hurt yourself." the tsahik jokes.

you looked up at her, seeing the slight smile on her face but missing the faint trace of tears in her eyes. you let out a small laugh at her joke.

"hey! i may not remember anything from before, but i know i was not stupid before i died." you laughed along, but this caused the tsahik to stop in her tracks, turning to you.

"say that again." she said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, her face painted with worry. 

"i was not dumb before i died?" you said, confused at her sudden actions.

"no, child! the other thing you said."

"oh, that i do not remember anything from before i died?" your words were cautious because you didn't know if what you were saying was offensive. 

"we must get you back to the camps." was all she said as she turned, grabbing your hand, but this time she walked with urgency. her pace was hard to keep up with due to your aching body, but you somehow managed. 

once you started to enter your native territory, you felt eyes everywhere. everyone was looking at you. you get it; you died and came back, but did everyone have to stare at you like that? it wasn't like you were the olo'eyktans daughter before you died. 

mo'at brought you to the center of the high grounds camp, and everyone gathered around to see what announcement their tsahik had for them. 

she didn't have some big speech planned. she just held your hand and said to the clan's people. 

"the great-mother has returned my granddaughter!" everyone was cheering and happy. this confused the sully family. the past two years after your death have been hard. the natives completely annihilated every rda soldier, lab, and scientist in sight. it was an unexpected, coordinated attack between the forest na'vi, the ice na'vi, and, surprisingly, even the ash na'vi. due to transportation, the water na'vi couldn't make it to fight the war, but they were able to send over some of their finest healers. 

let's just say no ships are coming to pandora ever again. jake made sure to send a message to the humans back on earth that if they ever sent one of their own to his planet again, he would single-handedly rip them each limb from limb. that was a promise, not a threat. humans had not gotten a chance to respond to jake's words. right after he delivered his messages, he pulled the pin of a grenade and walked out of the ship, it and the rest of the camp's base exploding behind them. although they didn't get to respond, they sure did receive the message, and earth now no longer had an avatar program. as the na'vi walked away from the war, they were victorious once and for all. 

neytiri was quietly braiding her youngest daughter's hair when she heard the cheers and celebration of the clan outside her home. and then that's when her three older children came running into their hut, screaming and crying, speaking simultaneously. it sounded as if they were speaking gibberish. 

"hey, hey kids calm down. what is going on?" jake asked his children, who looked like they were in distress. he was sitting in the home's living area, sharpening his blade as he had nothing else to do. 

"Y/N HAS RETURNED." it was kiri who got the words out first. 

neytiri, jake, and tuk all froze. there was no way. the great mother had taken you right in front of their eyes. you have been gone for two years; it can't be. neytiri had visited your grave just last night. there you lay, closed-eyed and lifeless in front of her, but as she walked out of her home and into the center of the clan's gathering there, you stood. you looked skinny and malnourished, but you were standing, breathing, alive. 

neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. she thought she was dreaming as she approached you slowly. she held your face in her hands, and as soon as she felt your skin against her own, she broke down in tears, engulfing you in the tightest hug you had ever felt. 

"ow." you said when she squeezed a bit too hard. this caused the woman to release you quickly, as she had forgotten how fragile you were right now. 

"ma ite, you have returned to me, oh great mother, you have answered my prayers. thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she pulled you into a hug again, this time softer, as if she was afraid that if she held you too rough, you would break in her arms. 

you, on the other hand, were nervous. granddaughter? ite? what is going on right now? there's no way you're the tsahik's granddaughter. you couldn't imagine what your mother would be like as a person, let alone any of your family. all you knew was that you were from the forest, but maybe eywa brought you back to the wrong part of the forest? you couldn't even look at the woman before you and pinpoint a resemblance. you had four fingers; some of her children had five, and you weren't like them. only one other child had four tingers, and you noticed it was the eldest son. 

when you made eye contact with him, his eyes softened. neteyam hadn't looked into his twin's eyes in ages. he missed you like no other. yeah, neytiri had it hard losing her first daughter, but neteyam had his twin's life ripped from her body right in front of his eyes. at that moment, it was almost like he felt the bullets go through his chest as well. that's how great the pain of losing you felt. but looking at you now, he felt like his heart was whole again. but there was this look in your eye. you looked different. not physically. you looked at neteyam differently. almost like you didn't recognize him.

mo'at had hoped that seeing your home and your family would cause your memories to come flooding back, but the look on your face was not giving her that impression. 

"i am sorry if i am ruining a happy moment…." you spoke up, causing everyone to immediately silence themselves so they wouldn't miss a word you said. but you didn't say anything that caused any happiness or joy in anyone. instead, your words scared everyone.

"–but i do not know who you guys are. i am not the tsahik's granddaughter and miss, i am not your daughter. i am sorry but i think you have things confused. please excuse me." you pulled yourself away from the woman who claimed to be your mother, but she tightened her grip on your hands.

"ma y/n, what do you mean? you do not remember me? i am your mother, your sa'nu. you are ma ite, my sweet girl." neytiri was taken aback. this isn't right, you're supposed to come back, and then everything goes back to normal. but the great mother has returned you with no memories at all. to you, neytiri was just a stranger claiming to be your mother.  

the next person to approach you was the olo'eyktan himself. you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes because of how his vast form intimidated you.

"itetsyip. maybe if you come home and see some of your things then you'll remember." he said, placing his hand on your back and walking you in the direction of what you assumed was their home. you quickly remove yourself from the two adults who had you in their arms. 

"i am sorry but i am not your daughter. i do not want to enter your home to look at whatever things you think are mine. just because i have no memory of my family does not mean you get to take me away from them. the great mother may have returned me to my body with no memories but that does not mean you get to put whatever you want in my head, trying to get me to believe you. i only just returned. do you not understand how overwhelming this is?" you were scared. everything was happening so fast. 

you just found out that you had been dead for two years, and now these people are trying to push this life in you that you know god and well that wasn't yours. you don't know who these people are, and they were making absurd accusations. maybe you really were in the wrong part of the forest.

"y/n stop joking around. do you not remember us? you are neteyam's twin sister for crying out loud. how can you be cruel enough to pull a joke like this? have we not suffered enough?" lo'ak was fed up with this whole situation. you were his sister, dammit. how could you not remember that? neteyam is your twin. you, tuk, and kiri were sisters. they're standing right in front of you, just begging you to run into their arms so they can embrace you.

you looked at the teenage boy oddly. like he had three heads. he doesn't know what he's talking about. these people are so pushy and demanding; you can't come from a family like this. you thought about it, and you knew they would be able to catch you if you tried to make a break for it, but you didn't want to be here anymore. 

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the family's eldest son walking up to you. he gently grabbed your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes that were identical to his. 

"you could not have forgotten about your twin brother have you, sister?" his words were soft. they sounded broken like he was hurting inside. from what? you don't know, but this isn't your problem to deal with. these people obviously lost somebody, but it is not you. you are not from here. so you hatched a plan in your head. 

"maybe i just need to walk around the forest and re-familiarize myself. it–" you choked on your words, not even wanting to say it.

"it could help me regain my memories. and then we can be a family again, yeah?" you look into the boy's eyes, noticing them shining a bit brighter. you gave him hope. 

that wasn't your intention. you just wanted to leave, so to make yourself 100x more believable, you hugged him. with all the strength you had in your body, which wasn't much. 

everyone was shocked. even neteyam, but he didn't want to lose this moment, so he hugged you back tight, so you could feel his love but not too tight because of how weak you are. you pulled back from the hug, bowing slightly to everyone before you walked in the direction that you and the tsahik came from so you wouldn't seem lost. you looked back before you could fully disappear into the trees. eyes meeting those of the people who claimed to be your family. looking at them, you didn't even see where you would fit in. they already looked whole. so you managed a small fake smile, sent them a small wave, and continued your trek through the forest, trying to get as far away from the omatikaya people as possible.

by the time they realize you're gone, you'll already be way too far for them to find you. you wandered around, wondering why the great-mother returned you like this? did you not deserve to keep your memories?

almost as if she heard your question, the great mother flashed an image in your head. it was different shades of forest green, with indigo spots placed randomly around its body, looking almost like flowers. its wings were majestic, but you couldn't pinpoint what you had seen until it landed right in front of you, keeping you from walking off a cliff you hadn't even realized you were walking towards. 

you couldn't believe that after two years of being gone, your ikran, syulang, was still alive. you named her syulang because, yes, of course, she looks like she's covered in flowers, but unlike other ikrans, syu was quiet, elegant, almost undetectable in the air. you would never hear her flying anywhere, and nobody knew why. the air would run smoothly over her wings, completely muting the sound of the wind rushing by in comparison to the usual loud, noisy ikrans that everyone else had tamed. syulang was delicate, like a flower.  "syu! hi girl, oh my goodness you’re alive." you said as you created your tsaheylu with her for the first time in years. it felt like the first time all over again, except without the part where she tried to kill you. syulang was happy to see you as well, nuzzling into you. "syulang, we have to go. right now. come on girl, take me home." when you said this, syulang made a noise of confusion but allowed you to mount her anyways. the two of you took off into the night, the eclipse making it too dark for anyone to notice that an ikran was out flying. not like they would hear syulang anyways.

it's been hours. you still hadn't come back from the forest, and the sullys were getting worried. everyone was tense and stressed until kiri spoke up. 

"she ran away," the teenage girl hadn't even realized it was herself who had spoken. she looked up and made eye contact with everyone in her family, repeating herself.

"she ran away, and she is not going to come back." tears sprung to her eyes as she just wanted her sister to return home. it was like eywa was dangling the most precious thing to them right in their faces, and every time they reached out, she snatched it away. 

"she would not do that. she said she was just going on a walk. kiri have some faith in her. sure she did not remember us but she would not have hugged me if she was just gonna run away. she said she would come home." neteyam argued. he didn't want to believe that you had left them again, but that's what it was starting to seem like. 

"we will check the ikrans. if hers is still there, then she's around here somewhere. we can go out and look for her." syulang had not left your family's ikran nest since the day you had passed. she was too depressed to do anything with her hunter being dead. the sullys made sure to take care of her for you, knowing you wouldn't want syu to suffer like you did. honestly, syulang was the closest thing the sullys had to you after you died. they'd take turns taking care of her at night, bringing tuk every now and then so she could see syulang too. 

the walk to the family ikran nest was full of arguing. kiri said that neteyam and lo'ak had to come to their senses and realize that you were gone again. the boys refused to believe that you would leave again, but as they approached the ikran nest, seeing syulang's corner abandoned gave them the answer they fought over. 

you had left.

"i told you she left. i mean for eywa's sake you guys bombarded her as soon as she got here!" kiri yelled at her family. she knew this was just displaced anger and that she didn't really mean it, but she was tired of holding her tongue. 

"don’t you dare say we bombarded her! she is my twin who died in front of me! eywa forgive me for wanting to hug her after she's been dead for two years!" neteyam yelled back at kiri; this just caused a huge family argument to break out.

tuk, who was standing to the side watching her family fall apart, couldn't help but cry. she just wanted her family to go back to normal. "stop fighting…" it came out as a whisper, her family arguing so loud that they hadn't even heard her. so she decided to make them hear her.

"STOP FIGHTING!!" everyones' heads snapped at the youngest sully child. little tuk had just raised her voice at them for the first time ever.

"give me a break! we are all hurt okay?! us, y/n, grandma, the clan? everyone is sad! we did bombard her! she has not been here for two years. we should have let her settle in first. i get it. you guys miss her. so do i, but ma sa'nu when you talked to her she looked so confused and scared. and nete, when she was hugging you her eyes were so empty. she looked so lost. we scared her away. we had a chance to make things normal again, to be a family again and all you guys could do was be selfish and think about yourselves!! i just miss her. i want her to come back, i–" tuk couldn't even finish what she was saying as her sobs overcame her. neytiri scooped up her youngest daughter, cradling her in her arms, trying to soothe her harsh cries.

tuk had just lectured their entire family, and nobody could be mad at her because she was right. neytiri realized that she had been pushy. jake and lo'ak, too, but it wasn't because they were trying to scare you. they just missed you so much they couldn't contain themselves. they had been selfish, putting their feelings over yours once again. it was the same way they lost you last time, and now, who knows where you went or when you left. the family just remained in their ikrans nest that night, needing all the warmth they could get as they all just held each other and cried.

you didn't think you could fly any longer. it had already been a few days, and you didn't see the forest anymore. you already didn't have a lot of energy due to you being dead for two years, but it didn't help that you left with absolutely no supplies to survive on your own. everything was starting to look the same. you felt like you were going in circles, seeing the same islands over and over. the ocean water was beautiful, you had to admit, but right now, all you could think about was if it would cushion your fall if you fell off your ikran. you knew it was only moments before you passed out from exhaustion.

the world started to spin as if it wasn't already, your vision was in and out, and you felt sleepy. you were exhausted and couldn't fly another second. as your body completely shut down, you fell off your ikran and into the waters below you, your tsaheylu disconnecting in the process.

had it not been for the hunters out at three brothers rock, you would have died. they noticed your ikran flying in the direction of their mainland, assuming you were a visitor and that they would meet you when they got back to the island, but they knew something was wrong when they noticed your form plummeting from the extreme height, completely motionless. 

they only took a few minutes to have you on the rock. they were nervous about doing cpr on you because you looked to be a teenager.

"ao'nung, come over here!" the hunter in charge called over the olo'eyktans son.

"what is it?" he said, noticing the tension in the air. he looked down, seeing you unconscious on the ground. his eyes widened. where had you come from? pushing that question aside, ao'nung took in your appearance, noticing how thin and weak you looked. he didn't know what it was, but it stirred something in him. you reminded him of his little sister, tsireya. if this was her, he would want one of the hunters to save her, so he put one arm under your shoulders and another under your leg and slid into the water, calling out to his ilu. 

"i'm bringing her to my mother immediately. she looks weak. i don't even know if she'll live, but i have to try." he said before taking off as fast as he could to the mainland. he noticed above him your ikran was flying at the same pace as him, probably too worried to leave your side.

when ao'nung got home holding an unconscious forest na'vi, he received a lot of weird glances from the clan's people, but he didn't care. he rushed home, looking for his mother.

pushing the flap open to see his mother had just put the last of her herbs away, ao'nung called out to his mom. 

"sa'nu! help! i– she needs help. please." hearing her son in distress, ronal was quick to give him her attention. instructing to lay the girl on the floor, she reminded herself to ask him where he had found her, but right now, she prioritized saving your life. she tried a healing remedy that would've usually worked, but you remained motionless. ronal put her ear to your chest, your heart was beating, but it was very faint. she knew only one thing she could do now, and it was the riskiest healing remedy known by all tsahiks. it has a minimal success rate but has healed some of the deadliest injuries known to eywa.  

once the remedy was made entirely, ronal told ao'nung to get out and find his father and sister before coming back. the boy nodded, walking out to find his sister. 

when he spotted tsireya riding on the ilus with her friends, he called her over. tsireya noticed her brother looked a bit more anxious than usual, so she excused herself and walked over. 

"brother what is wro– oh!" ao'nung pulled his little sister into the tightest hug he could muster. she remained shocked as her brother wasn't really one for physical affection at all unless it was from his mother. 

"please just– don't die on me, okay? at least not anytime soon. promise me, okay?" he said, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders as he looked into his sister's eyes. she just nodded and walked alongside her brother, wondering what on earth had him shaken up like this. 

upon retrieving his father, ao'nung returned with his father and his sister in tow. when they entered the tent, you were in ronal's arms, crying your heart out. the woman just looked up to her family, shushing them as she continued to provide you comfort. hearing your cries throughout their home hurt their hearts. you cried like you were hurt like you had experienced grave pain, and it was coming back to haunt you. 

from this moment on, the family decided they would take you in. they didn't know who or where you were from, but they wanted to heal you of this pain. their hearts hurt hearing how much pain your heart had to endure. there's a reason why eywa brought you to them, and they were not about to let you go.

you had been living amongst the metkayina clan for about half a year now. you weren't even recognizable from when you had arrived at the clan. when you got here, you were thin as a twig, you never had the energy to do anything, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. now, you had filled out your form, even gaining a bit of muscle from adapting to the metkayina ways. you had also completed your iknimaya, which meant you were allowed to get a tattoo. you choose to get two. the pain was well worth it, though, because once your leg sleeve and arm tattoo were complete, you couldn't have been happier. 

you finally felt like your life was worth living again. you no longer cried yourself to sleep; instead, you snuck out with your brother and sister, going to the small island where all the young na'vi hang out. you were finally happy. the great mother had brought you home. she had returned you to your family. 

the only odd thing was your dreams recently. you dreamed of the forest, of nantangs, woodsprites, and ikrans. things that have nothing to do with the metkayina. it was weird. you felt like eywa was trying to shove memories in your brain, but you were so at peace with your life that you disregarded it, too caught up, in reality, to be bothered by silly dreams. 

you loved life on the beaches, in the sand, underwater, just taking in the beauty of awat'alu as you sat on a rock. at the same time, you watched ao'nung, tsireya, and rotxo playing on their ilus in the water. they were splashing each other, just taking time to be the teenagers they knew they'll never be again. you were about to cannonball in the water to join them when you all heard the horns of the clan being blown, announcing new arrivals. 

you all stopped what you were doing, looking toward the screeches you heard. you knew that sound, that was bob, jake's ikran.

wait a minute… what?

whos jake?

‘jake sully’ said a voice in your head. you recognized it as she had spoken to you once before, but you couldn't remember where. 

why is this name coming to your head right now? you felt your wrist being grabbed by your sister, tsireya. she dragged you to the beaches of your clan's home, where everyone else had gathered. you stood behind your father, tonowari, as you continued to think about the name that came to your head. who is jake sully, and why did you just remember his name? 

"my children, ao'nung, tsireya, and–" tonowari paused, looking to his side at his children, realizing one was missing, until he turned around and realized you were just hiding behind him. 

"–and my youngest, y/n, will teach your children the ways of our home, so you do not suffer the burden of being useless here," tonowari stepped aside, pushing you in front of him, so the family who had arrived could see you. 

you looked up to make eye contact with the first person you spotted.

"tuktuk." the words were quiet from your mouth. the little girl, who had her head tucked into her mother's neck, perked up when she heard the nickname you used to call her.

"kiri, cut it out. that is not funny!" tuk said, looking at her sister, offended she would play a sick joke on her like that after they had just left their home. 

jake and neytiri decided to move their family from the omatikaya clan, deciding that being there reminded them too much of you. it hurt to continue to live on the soil that you died on. so they up and moved their whole family elsewhere, flying towards warmer air and gorgeous waters. they fully expected to be able to find uturu with jake being toruk makto and their war being over. what they hadn't expected to see was their dead runaway daughter standing amongst a sea of teal na'vi.

slowly walking towards the family, tonowari called out to you, but ronal placed her hand on her mate's chest, telling him to shut up and watch what was happening.

"tuktuk," you repeated as you walked towards the girl. when tuk realized that the voice was coming from in front of her and not behind her, she turned her head around, her yellow eyes meeting yours. 

"y/n!!" tuk practically dropped herself from her moms' arms, running up to you. 

you met her halfway, falling to your knees, pulling your little sister into a hug, her face in your neck as you supported her head. as you looked at each one of them, their names, faces, and memories came back. you remembered everything. 

"and you're neteyam, and lo'ak and kiri!" when your siblings heard you say their names, it was like a switch in them flipped. within seconds they were all in the sand hugging you and tuk, crying because you finally remembered them. 

you pulled back from the hug, looking at the two people who hadn't joined the hug yet. 

"sempu," you said, reaching your hand out to jake. he didn't even try to conceal his tears as he allowed himself to join his children in their hug. 

your mother still stood there in awe. neytiri was scared. she was the reason you left last time and didn't want to scare you away again, so she just stood with tears rolling down her face, not knowing what to do. for the first time in her life, neytiri didn't know what to do. 

you could see the hesitation in her eyes. but you were confused as to why. neytiri was the only one who treated you right before you died… so why is she the last to come to you.

"mom?" you called out to her, but she didn't move. did she not want you anymore? has she gotten used to the family without you? 

you tried once more, refusing to lose your family again. "sa'nu, please." a tear rolled down your cheek, looking into your mother's eyes. you saw all the hurt and stress, everything she had to endure while you were gone. 

hearing you call her sa'nu was the last push neytiri needed before she fell to her knees and joined her family's embrace. you have returned. you returned to your family, and you were safe. everyone pulled back from you, taking in your appearance. you had matured a lot since the last time they saw you. you and neteyam were about the same height now, but your muscles surpassed his due to all the swimming you do. 

you noticed that he had noticed too, and you just nudged his shoulder with your own, "do not worry, twin, i will teach you everything you will need to know. maybe you will grow up to be big and strong like me," you teased your twin. neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing along with you. 

"woah! y/n, you have a tattoo?" lo'ak asked as he looked at your left leg. you just laughed at his silly question. of course, that's the first thing he asks you. 

"she has two! there's one on this arm as well," kiri said, holding out your right arm so they could see the tattoo that you had there as well. 

"no fair, mom, i want a tattoo." tuk said, whining to her mother. neytiri laughed at her daughter's statement and just pet her head, moving her braids out her face. "maybe when you're older, tuk," she said.

"babygirl," your father grabbed your attention. "i just want you to know that we are all so sorry for how we treated you before you past–" you cut your father off, shaking your head. 

"it is in the past. the great mother may have returned my memories but it is me who gets to choose which ones to remember. i want to leave the past behind me. i have found a new home here. new peace. a found family who loves me dearly. i don't want you guys to feel like you have to atone to anything. eywa has given us a new start, so i think we should welcome it with open arms instead of trying to mend that has already been healed," you really had matured in your time away from the sullys. 

they all looked at one another. if that was what you wanted, they would be sure to leave the past in the past so they can embrace the chance to make things right with you. 

you stood, the rest of the sullys following. you walked back over to tonowari and ronal, pulling them into a hug. 

"just because my memories have returned does not mean that you are not my family anymore. you have all helped and healed me from wounds that i did not know i had so i can only thank you, sempu, sa'nu. you guys are my found family and i would not trade you for the world." smiling up at your other parents. Wow, this is gonna get confusing, but you were more than excited to have two families. 

you looked over and pulled ao'nung and tsireya into the hug as well. "you guys, too, thank you so much," you said to your siblings. they couldn't do anything but hug you back. you may not be their biological blood, but they could care less. you are now one of their people. ronal and tonowari will always see you as their daughter, and ao'nung and tsireya will always see you as their sister. you will always be family to them. 

you and tsireya decided to guide the sully family to their new home, as ronal had allowed them to stay. you noticed that lo'ak was eying your sister up quite a bit and decided that you would tease him about it later. you were just happy to finally feel at peace. you finally had the family, the life you had dreamed of. 

you couldn't do anything except thank eywa for all the good she brought into your life. 

‘you're welcome, my child.’ it was the same voice that you heard earlier. when you realized that she was responding to your thanks, if you finally clicked whose voice you were hearing. 

it was eywa.

she was with you. she had always been. throughout this journey, she made sure to stick by your side. that was something that you couldn't be more grateful for. 

‘be free my child, allow nothing from here on out to hold you back. you are meant to live a happy life, and now you are able to do so.’

[irishmammonagenda]

How I Think The Obey Me Boys Would React to The Rumours™️

Summary: Rumours have been floating around the Devildom. Rumours about a certain Angel and Sorcerer...how will the demon brothers react? Word Count: haha great question Content Warnings: probably just swearing tbh Disclamer: This will probably not make a lot of sense unless you've read this fic here for context, but ykw life doesnt make sense you do you <3

[dateables & co version]

post dividers by @cafekitsune their post dividers r really cool check them out! (also sorry for the tag!!)

You had left the Sorcerers' Society feeling quite flustered, but also extremely pleased with yourself. Take that Solomon. You grin. In all the excitement of the following days, you'd forgotten about the rumour you had accidentally spread around the Devildom. Perhaps you shouldn't've pretended to be Archangel Michael to gain entry....

💙💙LUCIFER💙💙

When Lucifer heard the news from Beel, he was in the student council room, he turnt his D.D.D off and just placed his head in his hands.

Was this some elaborate scheme by Solomon to gain a pact with him?

Lucifer wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

Sighing; he pulled on his coat and traversed to Purgatory Hall where Michael was staying.

"Michael." The Avatar of Pride stood leaning against the kitchen counter, everyone else in Purgatory Hall was at RAD, so the Angel and Demon were alone. "Oh Jesus Christ!" The Angel in question brings a hand to his heart in mock dramatics, "Warn a guy next time Lucikins!" "..." The Silence was palpable. "...Lucikins?" Lucifer gritted out, his eye twitching. "Michael. This is not the time for your games. I am the Avatar of Pride and a Prince of Hell, show me some respect." Michael merely raised an arched eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on his face as he quickly closed the distance between them, pulling the Avatar of Pride into an ironclad headlock, bringing his other arm over with a clenched fist and messing up Lucifer's hair. "I'm sure you are Lucikins, but you're still my adorable little brother." Lucifer pushes his hands out in an attempt to get away, but even he had to admit, Michael had always been stronger than him. "Michael." The younger protests, "I swear to Lord Diavolo if you do not let me go, I will-" Michael interrupts him, pausing his brotherly tormenting to wipe a tear from his ruby red eyes. "-Ahh! You must've missed me so much, poor Wittle Wucifer! Always so heavy on the teenage angst!" Lucifer growled in a way too similar to Satan when he first fell. Like father, like son. "I don't have teenage angst. Now unhand me you bastard!" "Oh please! The amount of times I caught you in the Celestial Realm listening to My Chemical Romance and Panic at the Disco on repeat speaks for itself! And the eyeliner! Just because the others were too young to remember doesn't mean I was baby brother! Don't think I don't remember the wolf-cut!" Lucifer's eye twitches so hard he worries for his socket. He cab't even refute it. "You are two minutes older than me! And besides! I came here to talk about the rumours of you dating Solomon!" "The What." Michael immediately ceases all noogie-ing, his grip loose enough for Lucifer to slip through his arm. He scowls, smoothing the wrinkles from his suit and beginning to fix his hair. He moves a safe distance away from his older (estranged) brother. "The rumours of you showing up during a Sorcerers' Society meeting and making out with Solomon on his lap. Ring a bell?" Michael, for the love of him, just looks confused. "But I've never even-" He blinks slowly a few times. "I am going to kill MC." Lucifer, even with the ego bruising he had just endured, laughs, partly out of sheer relief, he doesn't want to imagine what a Solomon Michael duo could be capable of. But of course it was you. It always was.

💛💛MAMMON💛💛

HUH???!!!

This poor man's confusion is so strong.

He doesn't want to think about Michael's lovelife. Or Solomon's for that matter.

He immediately rushes to tell you.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon shoves his way into your room like he was auditioning for the walking dead, as per usual, he wasn't aware of the marvellous invention of knocking yet. You quickly closed you laptop lid, and placed the device down beside you on the bed, lest he saw the Archangel Michael/King Solomon 100k, Slowburn, Angst with a Happy Ending you were writing on HellO3. “Hi Mams!” Mammon scurries onto your bed like the floor is lava, resting his chin on your thigh and looking up at you with his usual puppy eyes. “Yer not gonna believe this MC.” He says seriously. "What's up?" You tilt your head, bringing a one of your hands to ruffle your First Man's hair, he leans into the touch happily before jumping up and acting like he wasn't. "Well, 'pparently Michael's after starting te date Solomon. Can ye believe it?" Mammon makes a face. "Michael...wi' Solomon...I don' wanna believe it...just...its mingin'..." You laugh nervously, "I don't think Michael's dating Solomon, Mams....someone must've uhh..." You hold in a laugh. "It's probably just a succubi or someone looking for chaos." Mammon nods seriously, laying his head back on your lap. "Yer prolly righ' MC." You pet his hair again, "Wanna watch a movie or something, Mams?" "Pffft- Of course ya would wanna watch a movie wi' the Great Mammon...alrigh' huma-...Angel...I'll allow it...!" He says with his usual bravado, it was almost convincing, if he hadn't nuzzled further into your hand, and he wasn't looking at you like you were the one reason his pulse was still going.

🧡🧡LEVIATHAN🧡🧡

He finds out after the first chapter to a certain Archangel Michael/King Solomon fanfic was published. Yes he is subscribed to your HellO3 account, and yes! he has emails turnt on.

What kind of person would he be if he didn't read his Henry's fanfics?!

He throws his phone across the room.

When he finally wills himself to get up and retrieve it, he takes a screenshot and starts texting you frantically.

You're lazing about on your bed dong nothing, you'd just posted the first chapter of THE FORBIDDEN FRUITS: A GAY ROMANCE STORY THAT TRANSCENDS REALMS five minutes previous when your DDD began vibrating at such a speed you almost made a very unfunny sex joke. You pick up your DDD and sure enough, its Levi, heh; so he is subscribed to your HellO3 account! Leviachan <3: MC WHAT IS THIS NDVNRO DID YOU WRIT E FNAFICTION AOBOUT MCIAHEL AND SOLOMOMN You grinned. You: Fnaf fiction? Good idea for an AU! Leviachan <3: VFIBNODNORNGVNO MC IM LOOKING ON FORUMS WDYM THERES A RUMOU R ABORUT SOLOMON AND MICHAEL DATING You: In my defense, it was Solomon's fault. There's no response for 10 minutes, until your DDD pings again. Leviachan <3: Why is the fanfic good Leviachan <3: I MEAN OFC ITD BE GOOD, YOU WROTE IT BUT Leviachan <3: ITS SO Leviachan <3: THE CHARACTERS ARE SO COMPELLING AND THE PLOT IS SO GOOD RJRGNVDON Leviachan <3: AND THE TENSION??!! You grinned, you could always count on your Lord of Shadows to hype up your degenerate fanfics. You: thanks <3 satan's helping me write it, wanna help? Leviachan <3: I don't think I could write as good as you guys, im just a stinky smelly worthless otaku :( You: nuhuh. >:( Leviachan <3: But if you wanted... I could maybe beta-read??? You: OFC YOU CAN LEVI TANK YOU <33333 Leviachan <3: Haha tank LMAO ROFL You: I can never mispell anything around anyone in this house You kicked your feet like a catholic school girl holding hands with a boy for the first time in her life, knowing Levi probably was too.

💚💚SATAN💚💚

This man has a web of connections.

He found out almost as soon as the rumour started.

Like Mammon, he immediately finds you to tell you

Unlike Mammon, he actually knocks

granted he knocks for a second before just opening your door so he could've just not knocked and it would've had the same affect.

"Hello MC" "Mornin' Satie...What time's it?" You rub your eyes tiredly, having just woken up from a nap, you sit up and blink at him slowly with sleepy eyes. Satan can't stop himself from cooing, he movies towards your bed and ruffles your hair like you're a cat, you lean into the touch. "Sorry for waking you, dear..." You yawn. "You're fine Satie...what'd you need?" "Have you heard the rumours that Michael and Solomon are secret lovers-" Suddenly you're wide awake. "Oh no. Oh no no no." Satan raises a brow, "What's wrong, MC?" You grin sheepishly, "I maybe might've accidentally not on purpose started that rumour?..." Satan laughs in your face. Handsome bastard. "It's not funny!" "It is a little funny..." You gasp, eyes lighting up mischievously, "We should write a fanfic!" Satan tilts his head, "And why would we do that?" "Because the world deserves a Slowburn Michael x Solomon fic?" "Nope." "Pleaseee Satan! I'll pay you!" "Nope." "It'll annoy Luci?" "Tempting..." "I'll give you a kiss?" "I'm in. Let's write the best Michael x Solomon the Devildom's ever seen." You shake Satan's hand. Maybe you should've been reincarnated as a demon.

🩷🩷ASMODEUS 🩷🩷

Finds out through one of his gossip circles relatively fast.

He wants to get more details so he can tell you later! <3

By far one of the more supportive brothers

So he finds Solomon, who knows maybe he could give some advice!

Michael was strange, but he was always nice to Asmo growing up in the celestial realm, he might as well make sure one of his best friends is treating his former brother right <3

"Hiya Sol!~" Asmo smiles excitedly, pulling the sorcerer in for a hug, pouting when he pulled away again. "I cant believe you never told me! Ugh~...you must've been scared I wouldn't accept you!~ Poor thing...~" Solomon blinks slowly, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with pure confusion, lost in his own rant, Asmo doesn't notice. "Well! You have my blessing!~" "For what?" "For your relationship with Michael, silly!~" Asmo giggles, Solomon takes a deep breath. "For my what." A pause pauses all sound for a moment, only for a moment, before like all other moments, they begin the cycle of movemnt again. Solomon nods rather calmly, "Maybe I shouldn't have turnt MC into a sheep....or maybe I should do it again as payback...." He says to himself Asmo sighs, so it was just a rumour then....

He does still post a link to your fanfic on his Devilgram story, because he's so supportive! <3

No one tell Michael, or Lucifer pretty please

❤️❤️BEELZEBUB❤️❤️ & 💜💜BELPHEGOR💜💜

Being a member of the Anti-Lucifer League, Satan told Belphie who told Beel after taking a nap.

Beel, being the absolute legend that he is didn't really have any opinions on it. As long as they're happy :)

Belphie sits in on the fanfic plot planning sessions you and Satan host, with Beel sometimes joining and giving surprisingly interesting plot twists.

Belphie cackles when Beel tells Lucifer of the rumours, shortly before the first chapter of Forbidden Fruits is published.

Satan and You stand by the whiteboard in the attic, various spider diagrams and bullet points are written messily upon it, only this time, it's not a plan to 'prank' Lucifer. (Are they really pranks if they never succeed?) The sound of munching can be heard as Beel works away happily on a bag of crisps, offering everyone some as you work. "What if we made Solomon run after Michael in the rain." Belphie drawls out lazily, not even looking up from where he lies beside Beel. You stare at Belphie, "What is with you and the people chasing after people in the rain trope?" Belphie sticks his tongue out at you in response. Beel shakes his head. "That wouldn't be accurate. Michael hates getting his hair wet." Belphie smiles, "Good point Beel." Satan makes a sound of contemplation. "What if...we had Michael chase Solomon in the rain instead? The fact he hates getting his hair wet could show just how much he loves Solomon..." You laugh, imagining the scene in your head. "But why is Michael chasing Solomon?" Belphie smirks, "Because Michael said something bad about humans during a fight, Solomon got upset and ran like a maiden." Beel stops munching on his snacks, looking down approvingly at his twin. "That's really smart Belphie." "Thanks Beel." Belphie grins. "Yeah Belph, your angstiness is really paying off." You tease. "Oh shut up MC." He glares at you, but there's no real weight behind it. "Theyre right you know." Satan smirks. "I heard you blasting Paramore and MCR earlier." "Its good music!"Belphie says definsively. "Besides, it keeps me awake. Goodnight." He mutters, laying his head on his twins lap before closing his eyes. Five minutes of silence later, Beel opens his mouth, "He does wear eyeliner a lot when he's in our room y'know?" "Beel!" You and Satan laugh, Beel just smiles happily at everyone getting along. Belphie devises a plan to make you dream pigeons are going to take over the world tonight as payback.

im on a Lucifer being bullied by Michael spree rn 🧍‍♂️ also you can't convince me that Satan and Belphie aren't soso similar to Lucifer bc at the end of the day they're all just angsty emo teens &lt;3