#DO NOT IGNORE ME I WILL SMITE YOU

[desire-mona]

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[mycwows]

Wip; Aran Ryan

My s/o likes this guy, I don't see the appeal 🙄(sarcasm)

[evidently-endless]

every day really is like oh my GOD another one?

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[dear-ao3]

by popular request: how to write an email

a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.

credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)

Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go

there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.

also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)

Step 2: remember to be Polite

a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email

Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.

a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.

Step 4: cite your reciepts.

wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email

Step 5: use the appropriate lingo

you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:

As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved

See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.

Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.

Step 6: give a polite sign off.

something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.

Step 7: follow up and follow up often.

polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.

and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)

so an email. should be formatted something like this:

Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)

I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)

(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)

(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)

Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)

Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,

email signature

go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.

[genderqueerdykes]

I can't comment on your posts so, elaborate on how a man can be a lesbian? You insist on writing that they can without any backup to it.

there doesn't need to be "backup" for it, it's an identity. lesbianism is not a statistic that requires empirical evidence and research in order to make statements on. it's literally just an identity. this isn't a concrete thing that's set in stone, it's not a cosmic rule. identity is something that's unique for every person who experiences it. there's literally nothing stopping a man from identifying as a lesbian. there's nothing stopping women from identifying as gay. god won't descend from the heavens and smite or stop you from identifying this way. the world will not stop turning because male lesbians exist

you are not under threat because male lesbians exist.

i have no idea why people think specifically lesbianism has a high bar of entry, but it does not. men can be lesbians simply by identifying as a lesbian. it's that easy. it really is. you don't have to jump through hoops to "earn" an identity. if you would like "backup" for this, it's me. i'm right here. i'm a male lesbian talking to you in the flesh. lesbians can be genderfluid, multigender, bigender, non binary, men AND women, two spirit... any gender. there's no rules.

but if you seriously haven't read the works of Leslie Feinberg, they are mandatory reads to understand what we go through. Leslie was a polygender lesbian who needed to transition to male in order to feel like hir butch lesbian self. zie lived as a man for years before realizing zie was still a lesbian, but chose not to abandon hir manhood. zie lived as a transmasculine lesbian who also identified as a man for most of hir adult life. zie was a massive part of the lesbian activist community and did tons of work in paving the way for our community.

if you want to call yourself versed on what real lesbianism is, you cannot avoid reading hir works. they are essential in liberating one's self from antimasculism and transandrophobia. leslie was also a real, living, breathing male, transmasc, ftm, polygendered lesbian. ignoring the existence of transmasc, ftm and trans male butch lesbians is denying a huge part of our history and community.

listen to our community. talk to other lesbians than just cis white femmes. please actually do your own research on lesbian history, you are capable of researching these things, too. you don't have to rely on me if you don't want to take my word for things. i'm not the only male lesbian in existence. refusing to listen to transmasc, ftm, trans man and male butches erases a massive portion of our community's history. it silences people who have been here all along, whether or not you're able to accept that.

ask yourself why male lesbians in specific bother you, as opposed to any other "contradictory" queer identity. ask yourself why you have such a hard time with that, in specific. ask yourself why you are upholding a high bar of entry to lesbianism. there IS no bar of entry to lesbianism. you are one because you say you are. that is literally how identity works. you are one because you are one. no ifs, ands, or buts.

hope that helps.

[captn-trex]

brightest in the dark

Crosshair x F!Reader

word count: 9.2k

description: when you get caught up in an inescapable cave-in, crosshair finds that some things are easier to confess when it feels like the end of the road

warnings/tags: angst for sure but not all the way through, crosshair is an angsty boy in a lot of ways, forced proximity, frenemies (?) to lovers — reader and cross have a strained relationship because of the aforementioned angstiness of the boy, perceived unrequited love, injury detail, blood & needles, jealous (and a bit insecure) crosshair, implied there might be something between hunter & reader (spoiler: there isn't), grumpy/sunshine kinda, reader is a medic (how original), reader is described as being a similar size to crosshair, some suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw

a/n: I will make every clone yearn if it’s the last thing I do. sue me. also If anyone knows where I took the title from we can be best friends forever btw. and shoutout to @lonewolflupe for the ‘sky rodeo’ <3

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

“Have you got your water bottle?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, kicking off the side of the Marauder as you descended the ship’s stairs with an irritating pep in your step.

“Mm” he confirmed, taking a toothpick from his belt, already pre-empting a grinding jaw.

“Medkit?” you asked, stopping just next to him to secure the top of your knapsack.

Crosshair didn’t reply, he just gave you a sidelong glance of irritation, toothpick clenched between his teeth. You looked over to him, most likely upon realising he wasn’t going to answer, and deflated slightly at his expression.

“Crosshair, have you got your medkit?” you asked more pointedly, an edge of exasperation that made the edges of his lips quirk up marginally.

“Yes, I have” he mumbled out, turning away from you and catching Hunter’s glare as he walked in his direction.

Crosshair had to fight the urge to roll his eyes again, he already knew what he was going to say.

“She’s only trying to help” Hunter scolded him, “if I hear that you've given her a hard time—”

“Alright, I get it” Crosshair snapped, his gaze as sharp as his tongue.

Hunter gave him an unimpressed look, eyebrows raised and a sigh escaping his lips, “alright, try not to take too long, report back as soon as you've got a visual”

Crosshair didn't try to suppress his eye roll this time, “this isn’t my first sky rodeo, Hunter”

“I know, but—”

“You ready, Cross?”

Crosshair's head twinged to the side slightly as his eyes fluttered closed, his jaw grinding and teeth clamped together at the nickname. He'd pretend it was because he hated it, as he always did.

He didn't reply, instead stalking away from the two of you and off in the direction of your mission objective. He could hear the way your feet scurried to catch up with his long strides and huffed, gripping his helmet tightly at his side. He felt your eyes on him, running them over his armour, and it took everything within him to keep from meeting your gaze.

“How did you sleep last night?” you asked, making his jaw tick noticeably.

He knew you had recognised his poor sleeping habits of late, but he wasn't really in the mood to speak about it, especially as it had something to do with the fact that you'd started sleeping in Hunter's bunk. He wasn't sure why, but that was somehow even more torturous than knowing.

“Fine” he replied coldly, keeping his eyes ahead as the two of you followed the trail that lead down into the valley below.

You sighed, “Cross…”

“Don't call me that” he grumbled, no real bite behind the demand, “and I said fine, so drop it”

He saw your shoulders slump out of the corner of his eye and shook his head, disappointed in himself once again.

Truth be told, Crosshair was painfully enamoured by you. Smitten was a more appropriate description really. He certainly felt as if he had been smited by some cruel deity who deemed that his life was worth being made difficult. He bore it like an open wound that he tried to ignore, a mess that wasn't given the proper amount of care and attention, and bled into the way he treated you.

You’d always been too kind to Crosshair, far kinder than he deserved. As much as it was your job as a medic, you always took care of him in the same way as the others, even though they always treated you with a level of respect that he didn't. He wished everyday that he could take it all back, go back to the beginning and start over, let you know how much he appreciated you and your efforts, how his feelings had grown for you to the point where his chest ached every time your smile was directed at someone who wasn't him.

It made little sense, he knew that. He acted as if he didn't care whether you lived or died, but it was the fact that you didn't seem to care that made him continue to act that way. So he couldn't take it back after all, and maybe he wouldn't want to anyway, because how else could he get close to you? He knew that made little sense too, but very few things were clear to him when it came to you.

In any case, he'd go on suffering in silence, a suffering of his own making that he cursed himself everyday for.

You did have a friendship, of sorts. He wouldn't call it that, and would certainly never admit it, but you were insistent in trying to get him talking. The way it would play out often went along the lines of him teasing you, making fun of you, to see how far he could push you as a juvenile way of coping with the magnitude of his affections. It was the closest thing to affection he would allow himself. You often rebutted his teasing remarks with ones of your own, and as much as he appreciated you matching his attitude, he mostly wished that you wouldn't allow him to get away with it, that you would give him a reason to show how he truly felt about you.

Safe to say the opportunity hadn't arisen, and he wasn't crossing his fingers either.

This mission's objective was simple; go and scout ahead, and comm the others when it was safe for them to move out. Since your joining the group eight months ago, Crosshair had often been lumbered with you in situations such as this. As the sniper, he wasn't made for nor enjoyed close combat fighting, and as the medic with little combat training, it suited you to hang back until you were needed.

Thankfully, the terrain that you were traversing this time was straightforward, a narrow valley that brought you right up to a ridge that overlooked a separatist outpost. Although the area was simple to cut across, it only made the silence that stretched between you even more tense, with no buffer to distract either of you.

You kicked up dust into the air with the way you were dragging your feet, and Crosshair was half of the mind to replace his backpack with you just so he wouldn't have to hear the grating noise. Holding a datapad in hand, you tapped the screen, tracking the direction that the two of you were heading in.

“Two more klicks” you mumbled, cutting through the tension with all the effectiveness of a butter knife.

Crosshair grunted in reply, casting his eyes across the top of the valley as the two of you descended to the very bottom. His hand shot out, slamming against your abdomen and stopping you in your place.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice low as you saw the way his gaze skimmed the top of the valley.

Crosshair slowly reached back and took his firepuncher from his backpack, “we're being watched”

The moment the first blaster bolt flew, Crosshair grabbed your waist and pushed you behind him, bringing his blaster into position and picking off the sniper droids he could see. Each bolt found its mark, piercing the droids between their eyes.

“Find us some cover” he ordered as he shoved his helmet over his head, looking for incoming droids. He turned back the way you had come, blaster raised as he walked backwards. It was silent for a moment, the only thing he could hear being the gentle padding of your feet against the ground behind him.

“Crosshair, in here” he heard you call from not far away, and he gave one last look around the edge of the valley before turning and making his way towards your voice.

There was a small cavern at the base of the cliff, a hideaway cut from the rock, and it looked to have been used for shelter before. A small pile of logs indicated a fire, with stones outlining a pit of ashes, only just visible with the way the afternoon light shone in through the opening of the cave.

Crosshair squared himself with the wall of the cave to look outside, his back pressed against it as he followed the line of the cliff through his scope. He felt your presence next to him, your chin knocking against his spaulder as you peered over his shoulder. Your breath wafted over the sliver of skin between the top of his blacks and his helmet, and his breath hitched as the heat of it made his skin prickle.

“Stay” he muttered, stepping forwards to put some distance between you, and to make sure that it was safe to move again. He stepped out into the valley once more, his rifle raised and ready should he meet more adversaries.

It was eerily quiet, the whistling of the wind the most audible sound, carrying no others on it. Crosshair stalked around the base of the valley, making sure that no other droids were in the vicinity, and called for you to join him when he was sure.

“One moment” you muttered, “I think there's a stone in my boot”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, lifting his weapon to look through the scope and make extra sure that it was safe. He wandered around as he waited, his own boots softly crumbling the dirt beneath them, then came to a stop next to you after a few moments, watching as you buckled up your boot again.

You looked up at him and a small smile crossed your lips, but almost instantly dropped, as if you'd done something wrong, “let's go”

Crosshair felt his heart fall from his chest at the subtle action. The fact that you wouldn't even allow yourself to smile at him left a gaping hole through the middle of him, and he felt completely and utterly ashamed. He knew it was his own fault, he'd blame himself even if it wasn't, but he wasn't prepared for how the simple motion would bring his mettle to its knees.

As he was caught up in staring at you with an inscrutible expression, one that didn't give away even one ounce of the anguish he felt, a blast flew straight past him, and narrowly missed your arm. He pushed you back inside the cave on instinct, and whipped around to deal with the incoming attack, but upon seeing the increased amount of firepower now gunning for the two of you, he quickly followed you inside, picking off the droids towards the front of the formation as he walked backwards.

As the droids continued firing down at you, a blast lodged itself in the ledge above the opening to the cave. When the rocks there crumbled away, they seemed to focus all their fire above you. Crosshair didn't think about the immediate implications of it, he just kept knocking down what droids he could, but when you called out his name and grabbed his arm to pull him backwards, he understood.

The rocks came down almost in slow motion, but quick enough that the pair of you couldn't have made it out in time. Crosshair fell backwards as you tugged on his arm, stumbling and trying to find his footing before he was taken to the ground. In the scramble to get away, a rock snagged his shoulder, just between his cuirass and spaulder, and he released a deep grunt as it brought him to his knees with the impact.

For a moment it was quiet again, only the heavy sound of breathing being heard in the darkness of the cave. Crosshair kept his head down, trying to keep his breath even and cut out the pain from his wound, though it was quickly becoming apparent to him that his shoulder was not in any sort of good condition. He could feel blood tricking down his side, soaking through his blacks, and he felt himself becoming feint, his mind fuzzy and unfocused.

A light flicked on, shining directly at him, and he groaned again, the hand of his uninjured arm lifting to cover his eyes.

“Crosshair” your voice was a hoarse whisper, as if it had got caught in your throat, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

He slumped forwards slightly, his back hunching as he dug his knees further into the ground to distract from the pain.

“I know” he said quietly, not even having looked at the damage yet. He was far too concentrated on trying to ignore it.

The light flicked off with the click of a button, and he heard you shuffling around, your knapsack hitting the ground with a thud that told him you were moving quickly, your actions rushed. Soon after, a warmer light started growing, and Crosshair realised you had taken out a lamp, and were now dragging it over to him with a medkit in hand.

He looked up, the softer light not invading his vision in such a piercing way, and he could now see the worry in your eyes. His gut twisted, the uncomfortable feeling of guilt spreading through his body and only making his wound ache more. You knelt in front of him, ripping off his helmet before your hand gripped his spaulder and pulled it aside to get a proper look at the injury. The both of you sucked a breath through your teeth, Crosshair in pain and you no doubt because of how bad the damage was.

You got to work quickly, silently, and unclipped the top half of his armour to get better access. Crosshair was glad that you weren't talking, he was already embarassed enough, feeling infantile, crumpled to his knees and completely weak in front of you. He was powerless to do anything else, his head pounding and vision hazy as blood gushed from his wound.

“Hold this here” you said firmly, pushing a cloth into the wound and bringing him back to the present harshly, another pained noise leaving him.

He followed your instruction without much thought, and when he took the fabric from you to hold in place, he felt the way your hand was shaking. His eyes snapped up to yours, and the distress he saw written into your expression was enough to shock him back into full consciousness.

Crosshair watched your movements carefully, his keen eyes noticing every twitch and shiver as you fumbled with the syringe. He wanted to comfort you in any way he could, but truthfully, he didn't know how. It wasn't something he'd ever sought to do, and now faced with the challenge, he didn't know what would be the right thing to say.

“It's just a scratch” he mumbled, a small chuckle passing his lips in an attempt to at least alleviate some of the tension.

“A scratch?” you huffed, your voice disbelieving as you shot him a unimpressed look, “this isn't funny, Crosshair”

“Hey—”

“If I hadn't pulled you away you'd still be there. You'd be de—”

Crosshair called your name sternly, and you stopped your fiddling with the syringe to look up at him, “it's going to be fine, do you hear me?”

His voice was grave, and while he knew it wasn't necessarily a comforting tone, it was the best thing he could muster up with the panic steadily growing within him. Your eyes flicked between his, your shoulders relaxing slightly after a few seconds.

“Okay” you breathed out deeply, pressing your hand over his to hold the cloth tighter to the wound, “look to your right”

Crosshair could feel his pulse throbbing all over his body, the blood rushing through him and towards his wound, towards the hand that covered his and brought about such a reaction. Your skin was warm through the fabric of his glove, and he'd been so distracted by the touch that he barely registered when you had administered the pain relief injection into his neck.

You took your hand from his as you placed down the syringe, and then found the hem of his blacks, your fingers skimming along the edge, “I need to take this off, is that okay?”

“It's fine” Crosshair replied, taking the cloth away from his wound to allow you to continue.

You nodded once, and ran your palms across the skin of his abdomen as you peeled the body glove from him. Crosshair couldn't help the way his body shivered, the way his jaw clenched at the feel of your hands on his skin. His eyes locked with yours as you pulled the top up, warm knuckles brushing over him, and he let out a shuddering breath, trying to relax his mind. He groaned in pain, eyes screwing shut when he lifted his arm to help you take the shirt from his injured shoulder.

“I know, I know” you spoke soothingly, your voice measured and calm as you discarded the shirt, “I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologise” Crosshair hissed out, the pressure to his wound returning as you grabbed his hand once more and brought the cloth to his shoulder.

“Alright, here's what's going to happen now” you started, your hand still covering his as you held his attention, “I'm going to take this away and clean the wound first. It's going to hurt a lot, but it'll be over before you know it. Then I'm going to need to stitch it up”

“It's that bad huh?” Crosshair huffed a laugh, still not keen to look down at the wound, but he heard how strained his voice sounded in saying it.

“It's going to be fine” you assured him, and your fingers closed around his, gripping his hand tightly, “it'll only take a few minutes, and then it's just a matter of putting a bacta patch over it”

He breathed out deeply, his skin alight where yours was touching it, trying to remain as calm as possible.

“Alright, do it” he spoke, forcing his eyes away.

You gave his hand one last squeeze as you brought it away, and despite how it made his heart flutter, it wasn't enough to fight the stinging pain of the antiseptic spray.

As you cleaned out the gash, wiping away drying blood and dirt, you responded to Crosshairs groans and whimpers of pain with comforting words, telling him that it was almost over, and as much as he appreciated it, he only felt more embarrassed. In the lull between cleaning and stitches, he tried to take steadying breaths, but the antiseptic was still stinging at the open wound.

“Are you ready?” you asked quietly, and his eyes found yours again at the softness of your voice.

You held the curved needle in your hand, ready for whenever he said the word, and between his deep breaths and pounding head, he couldn't help but just sit and admire you for a moment too long.

“Do you want something to hold on to?”

“What?” he frowned.

“To grip, for the pain? or… something to bite down on?” you suggested.

“No, no” he dismissed, shaking his head.

“Okay, I'm going to start now” you informed him, and he nodded quickly.

As soon as the needle pierced his skin, Crosshair's hands shot out and gripped the fabric of your shirt, bunching it at your waist with the way his fingers tightened, his bones almost creaking beneath the pressure.

“Fuck” he breathed out, trying hard to keep himself in check, to distract himself by focusing on the rhythm of your breath.

“I know” you said gently, “you're doing well, just a couple more”

His head fell forwards, resting his forehead against your temple as you worked, and he instead found that he was losing himself in your presence. He could feel your breath against his cheek, steady and warm, where his was harsh and shallow. You continued to send comforting words his way, your sharp actions a direct contrast to your tone and sentiments. He focused on the sound on your voice, the scent of your hair, the soft fabric of your tunic between his fingers, and soon they began to loosen.

“There, all done” you pulled away from him as you put down the needle and peeled off the back of a bacta patch, and Crosshair had to catch himself from falling forward.

You placed the patch over the affected area, lightly running your fingers over the edges to press it into his skin, and he immediately felt the solution beginning to cool the flaming agony that stemmed from the gash. A breath left him, and he sat back on his heels more as his head tipped back in relief.

“Better?” you asked.

“Better” he replied, then looked down at you to see your worried expression taken over by something more unreadable.

You chuckled slightly as you tidied up the medkit, “don't worry, I'm not expecting a th—”

“Thank you" he spoke before you could finish, voice firm enough that your eyes snapped back up to his.

You cocked your head a little as you looked over his features, “well… you're welcome then”

Placing the medkit back in your knapsack, you produced a dark piece of fabric, handing it over to him. He looked at the black material clasped in your hand and realised you were offering him your spare blacks.

“That wont fit me” he nodded his head to the item of clothing, an unimpressed furrow in his brow.

He watched on as you frowned in return, then trailed your eyes down his chest and abdomen, no doubt sizing him up.

“We look about the same size”

Crosshair scoffed, “are you calling me skinny?”

“Are you calling me skinny?” you replied amusedly, one of your eyebrows raising in tandem with your lips.

He rolled his eyes, “whatever, hand them over”

He held out his hand, looking away from your irritatingly enraptured gaze, and you dropped the top into his hand. He threaded his arms through the top and the sleeves, going to pull it over his head until his shoulder cried out in protest, and another pained grunt escaped him. He tried again, but was met by the same results.

“Here, let me help y—”

“Don't touch me” he replied on instinct, his tone venomous in a way that made his insides coil tightly together with guilt. He could see the hurt in your eyes, a flicker of sadness that only made that nasty feeling inside of him pull taut.

Truthfully, he couldn't stand to have you touch him. If he hadn't been so woozy previously, he may have shrugged off your help with his wound as he usually did, telling you he could sort it himself. Now that he was in his right mind, there was no way he would let you anywhere near him. He didn't trust himself around you. He didn't think he could have you touch him and not do everything in his power to keep it that way.

Though, observing the hurt in your eyes, in the slight downturn of your lips, he felt he couldn't deny you anything in that moment. After a long silence, he sighed. “I'm sorry”

Without so much as a single word, your hands found the fabric of the top, and you gently pulled it over his head. Crosshair knew he didn't have to say anything, because as much as he wished you didn't, you knew him well, and could read him far more than he was comfortable with.

He kept his eyes trained on yours. So much of your emotions were given away by your eyes, and he felt that you didn't try very hard to hide them, not like he did. He admired you for that. You were so openly giving and sought connection with everyone, even him. Your eyes caught his as you pulled the top down over his chest.

A small smirk wound it's way onto your face, “don't worry, I won't tell the others you needed help dressing like a little boy”

Crosshair huffed, trying to disguise what was really a laugh as an unimpressed scoff.

“I'm going to try and contact them” you muttered, moving away from him to pull out your comm. “Hunter? Are you there?” you were met by static, nothing coming through the line.

You tried again a few more times, calling for Hunter to reply, and every time you said his name it was like a punch to the gut. The last time was so desperate, so soft and bordering on loving that Crosshair almost clamped his hands over his ears. He couldn't stand it.

He didn't want to feel resentful towards Hunter, he only had himself to blame for leaving the space for something to blossom between the two of you, and it didn't surprise him in the least. You were both generous in a similar way, looking out for others before yourself, and it made sense that you had gravitated towards each other.

He tried to push it from his mind, vaguely aware that you were sending a recorded message about what had happened. He was more focused on the intense need he had to escape this situation. He couldn't be trapped in here with you, it would be the end of him, he was sure.

You began trying to shift some rocks from the base of the mound they had fallen into, but it only caused a slide from the ones on top of it. You yelped as you sprang back, and a thin crack appeared, running along the ceiling of the cave. Crosshair just huffed and pushed himself off of the ground, going to continue on in your stead.

“I'm not sure that's—”

The same thing happened, the crack deepening and small rocks falling from the ceiling. Crosshair paid it no mind, but you insisted that he stopped, pleading with him when it only got worse, more rocks shifting unsteadily and falling down around you. Really, it was hurting him a lot, his shoulder calling out for him to stop much like you, but the prospect of being stuck in here struck him as far more painful.

You had always given back what Crosshair gave out for the most part, but with the tone of your voice, he could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were quickly losing your sense of humour, and you finally snapped.

“You know what Crosshair, I'm kriffing sick of you! If you want to go and get yourself killed, be my guest, I won't stop you”

Crosshair stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, “you don't mean that”

His tone was partly joking, partly serious, as he didn't know which end of the scale you were on at that point.

“I mean every word” you spat at him, far more angry than you'd ever been, and you grabbed the lamp, dragging it behind you as you walked away.

He watched you slide down the far wall of the cave, your arms wrapping around your knees as you brought them into your chest in a huff. For a moment Crosshair didn't know what to do, but he figured he wasn't going anywhere if you weren't onside, so he trudged over you slowly, not approaching quickly for how he didn't know what kind of reaction to expect.

“Go away” you muttered, your eyes staring ahead of you, hardened with a resolve to not engage with him.

“No” he replied petulantly.

“I'm not dealing with your shitty attitude right now” you gritted through your teeth, still not looking at him.

It seemed that his mistreatment of you had finally caught up to him, and made you snap, and Crosshair was almost scared of the uncharted territory that you were now in.

“Just get up and help me shift these rocks” he knocked his foot on yours, urging you to abide, but you didn’t move.

You were silent, and realised then that it looked as if you were shaking subtly, but it was hard to tell in the low light. He was worried about you, but he knew there wasn't anything he could say or do that would help. He crouched next to you with a small sigh.

“What's the matter with you?”

“The matter? Crosshair we're stuck in here!” you finally looked up at him, a scrunch in your nose that he couldn't help but find adorable, and he found himself wishing you would have snapped at him before.

“What? Are you scared?” he asked, his usual teasing tone making an appearance.

“Yes! I'm scared, alright?” you hissed, and he could see a flicker of fear in your stormy eyes, “I don't know why you aren't”

“I don't get scared” he replied quickly, a knee-jerk response.

You laughed humourlessly, rolling your eyes, “right, of course. I should've thought of that”

Crosshair could see he wasn't getting anywhere, so he took a seat next to you, his back to the wall, one knee bent to rest his forearm on.

“I can't believe I'm going to die trapped in here with you” you grumbled out.

A pang of hurt cut deep in Crosshair's chest, but he forced a dry chuckle past his lips, an instinctual reaction to deflect the pain. You didn't seem so amused.

“Hey” he said softly, and you turned your head to look over to him, “we're not going to die”

His voice was as soothing as he'd allow himself, and he hoped that it could bring you even a little reassurance. You seemed almost taken aback, your mouth hanging open a little as your eyebrows raised. You blinked at him, and then settled back into a frown.

“I'm not stupid Cross, there's no way to know whether we're going to get out of this or not” you spoke softly.

The nickname made his chest seize up, but he sighed, leaning his head back against the wall of the cave, “you're right”

He wasn't going to lie to you, you didn't need that, and it wouldn't fix anything about the predicament you found yourselves in.

For a little while, you sat in silence, save for a steady drip of water on the opposite side of the cave that Crosshair had failed to notice previously. Now, it was all he could focus on. It was a particularly grating noise, something irritatingly steadfast and unyielding about it, just existing in the same space as you, but doing a much better job at consistency than him. It felt like it was taunting him, mocking him, calling him a coward. Maybe he was already going crazy, but either way, he felt compelled to speak up, if only to try and drown it out.

“I'm sorry” he said quietly, almost a whisper.

You sighed deeply, deflating, “it's not your fault”

Crosshair shook his head though you didn't see it, “I mean, that you're stuck here with me. I know that you'd prefer if it was Hunter instead”

You looked over at him with a curious expression, one that he only saw for a split second before he had to turn away. He couldn't bring himself to look at you for whatever you were about to say.

“That's not exactly true” you said in a measured tone.

His gazed snapped up to you, and you were giving him one of those looks where you were trying to figure him out. He hated when you did that, you were so good at it after all. He sometimes felt that you could see right through him and into his very soul, but he sincerely hoped that wasn't the case, he couldn't think of anything more horrifying.

“I didn't mean what I said before” you murmured, turning your body towards him with a small smile, “you're a great end of the universe buddy really”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “so you don't actually want me to die?”

“Of course I don't” your face softened with your tone, and he couldn’t believe that such a tender look could be directed at him, he could only think that he didn’t deserve it, “you just drive me up the wall sometimes”

His lips quirked into a small smirk on instinct, and then it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“No one enjoys winding me up as much as you” you muttered, drawing your knees back to your chest as a shudder wracked your body.

Crosshair cast his eyes over you at the action, realising that your medics robes were not as warm as the blacks you had packed for situations exactly like this. He thought that maybe if he was a better man he'd give the top back to you. That's what Hunter would do. Instead, he looked across the cave, to where the previous dwellers had made a makeshift fire. There wasn't much wood, but it would be better than nothing.

“You have a lighter in there?” he asked, motioning his hand towards your knapsack.

“Uh… yeah” you replied.

Crosshair pushed himself from the ground, only a small grunt leaving his lips as the bacta had already began healing his wound. He grabbed the bag and crouched down by the pile of wood, rifling through it to find the lighter which was rattling around at the bottom.

As he arranged the remaining pieces of wood into his preferred shape, you stood and walked over to retake your seat in front of the soon-to-be fire. He got it going quickly enough, lighting one of the smaller pieces and placing it into the structure he had built, but it was weak at best. It wasn't going to keep for more than a few hours with the resources available, and Crosshair was already worrying about what would happen then.

He looked over to where the opening of the cave had been. In the dim light he could see the crack that had appeared in the ceiling, and he felt his stomach twist into a tight knot upon observing how much worse it was already. He blew a long breath out, making the fire ahead of him flicker slightly more, before it settled into its previous dance. Crosshair couldn't hear the dripping anymore, not above the crackle of the fire, and it was a strange relief. Thank the maker for small mercies, he thought, inwardly scoffing at the sarcastic thought.

“Why haven't you been sleeping?”

The question caught him off guard, so buried deep in his own thoughts that he had almost jumped when you spoke up.

“I don't want to talk about it” he mumbled in reply.

You nodded, seemingly satisfied with the assertion, but he could tell something lingered in your mind at the way you watched the flames before you both.

“You've been in my dreams the past few nights” you said absentmindedly, eyes almost glazed over as you stared into the fire, little regard for how it made Crosshair’s heart skip several beats. Your eyes flicked up and met his, and he lifted an eyebrow, not sure how else to react. You chuckled slightly before you continued, “they weren't great dreams, really. Nightmares, maybe”

Crosshair could feel his insides constrict at the idea of him featuring in your nightmares, his heart beating faster as he willed himself not to react in any way.

“Go on”

He watched your throat bob as you swallowed, “well, it always starts with me being chased by a fire-breathing lizard… creature”

Crosshair couldn’t help the way the edges of his lips lifted a little, and he brought his hand up to scratch at his stubble to try and hide it.

“I can see you laughing at me” you scoffed, “it was scary at the time”

“I'm sure” Crosshair replied, still fighting a smirk.

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes, uncrossing you legs to stretch them out ahead of you so you faced the far wall of the cave.

Crosshair’s curiosity quickly got the better of him, “what was I doing there?”

You looked back over to him before turning your face back down to your feet where you gently kicked your heel into the ground, “it's… silly, really. Far fetched”

He frowned, “I'm listening”

You huffed, and he could see your cheeks darken as you deliberated over your next words, “you were protecting me. You had a durasteel sword and you were trying to slay the creature”

Crosshair’s eyebrows raised, but quickly shot back down at your earlier insinuation, “why's that so far fetched?”

You tilted your head to look at him, your own frown creasing your brow, “I don't know, it's not something you'd do in real life”

A pang of hurt sent a sharp pain through his chest. He could feel it, like a real, physical thing, a knife piercing through his heart. You truly believed that he didn't care for you in any way shape or form, and as much as he knew he had no right to feel slighted by it, it cut deep within him.

“Nice to know you think so little of me” he grumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and tucking his chin behind them as he stared into the fire.

He could see your eyes go wide even as he refused to look at you, “I don't think little of you! I— I think you're… great, just—”

“Just what?” he snapped, eyes darting back up to yours.

“I don't know, I don't see you doing that for me”

Crosshair's frown only got deeper, and he forced himself to look away and into the fire again. All of the hurt and jealousy within him, every negative emotion he had brought upon himself by not being honest with you bubbled up to the surface, and he failed to keep it to himself.

“I feel like I've upset you” you said softly, but he just grunted in reply, “what is it?”

“You really think I wouldn't protect you?”

He knew that this was a path he didn't want to go down, one he wouldn't dare tread if both your lives didn't hang in the balance, but they did. He felt vulnerable, more vulnerable than he ever had or wanted to, and severely misjudged. Something about it made indignance rise up his throat and mingle with his words.

You paused, but spoke you mind after a moment, “not at the expense of yourself, no”

He grunted again, “well you're wrong”

“Why?”

“why?” he scoffed, shuffling his feet ucomfortably, “I'm not heartless, you know”

“I didn't say you were” you rebutted, and he finally looked up at you when you paused. You watched him carefully, “you would… put yourself in harm's way, for me?”

“Of course”

The shock was evident on your face, your mouth hanging open a little as you stared back at him, eyes wide and unblinking, and he knew instantly that he'd said too much, and that you didn't feel the same way for him. The worst part was, he understood. He knew that he'd given no reason for you to care for him in any real way past doing your duties as a medic, and any kindness you had offered him had been purely from the goodness of your heart, with no ulterior motives in consideration. All the same, it was frustrating. He was frustrated at himself.

His gaze dropped to the fire once more, and it felt as if it were stinging his eyes, but he soon realised that the sensation was actually brought forth by the tears that had collected in his waterline. He blinked them away, knowing that he couldn't, shouldn't cry, even if he had just come to the realisation that you would never see him the way he saw you, never admire him like that, never adore him like he wanted you to. It made him feel like a cadet again, surrounded by people who were supposed to be his brothers, but only feeling like something was wrong with him, that he was unwanted and unlovable for a reason that would forever elude him.

It was his fault. All his fault. He knew it, he’d always known it, and he'd have to live with it for as long as he knew you. It didn't make it any better to know it, it only made it worse. He wished he could blame it on you, make it easier for himself, displace all the blame and take this crushing weight from his shoulders, but he wouldn't wish this weight upon anyone else, much less you.

He didnt dare look up at you again, especially as you hadn't said anything. If the ground opened up and swallowed him whole in that moment he wouldn't have cared, or probably noticed.

“Do you think the others will be looking for us by now?” you asked softly after a little while.

“Doesn't matter, they won't find us” he grumbled back.

You huffed, “that's not very reassuring”

“Reassurance does nothing”

“Maybe not to you”

“No, not to me”

“Right” he could tell you had rolled your eyes, “you don't get scared, how could I forget”

“I am scared, just not for myself” He snapped, his tone sharp as he glared at you. He was feeling annoyed now, and not in the mood for joking in the slightest.

“What do you mean?”

He scoffed, his tone not matching his sentiment, “I'm scared for you. I don't want anything to happen to you”

You watched him from across the fire, tilting your head, and he had to look away.

“Why aren't you scared for yourself?” you asked.

Crosshair was reluctant to say, but you had no teasing in your tone, and admitting to the truth felt easier knowing that he might not make it out of this cave. He decided that he'd find a way to say what he wanted in as few words as possible.

“Because… if I die, I don't have to live without you”

Your eyes widened slowly, and he watched your mind work around the meaning of the words, the gears turning behind your eyes. He could feel the embarrassment clawing at his throat, begging him to stop speaking forever more. He didn't know why he would have said that, beyond it being true. You didn't need to know, it wouldn't help you, and it certainly didn't help him.

Then, you did something that he didn't expect at all. You rose from your place on the opposite side of the fire slowly, as if not to scare him, not that it worked. His eyes followed you as you made your way around, and retook your seat in the spot right next to him, so close that if he shifted his arm he’d be touching you. Then you put your head on his shoulder, looking into the fire.

“I'm scared for you too” You said quietly.

Crosshair didn’t know what was going on. His heart was beating out of his chest, only just managing to keep a hold of the rhythm of his breath as he watched you from so close. You had never been affectionate with him like this, and he was too plagued by confused thoughts spilling into his brain that he couldn’t fully enjoy it — enjoy the fact that you were in this proximity to him willingly.

“You're too careless with your life, you treat it like it doesn't matter. I don't like it” you spoke up again.

He didn’t know what to say.

“How should I treat it?” he asked quietly, his voice low.

“Like it's precious”

Crosshair took soft breath in automatically, taken aback by the simple admission, by how easily you had said it. He could only find it within himself to deflect the comment,

“It isn't precious, clones are expendable”

You raised your head from his shoulder to give him a stern look, “I know you don't believe that”

He shrugged. He could feel his cheeks scorching and he hated it more than anything. He hoped that the low light would save him from you noticing how your touch made him act. Peering into your eyes as you did to him, searching, your frown softened.

“Your life means a lot to me" you confessed in a whisper. Crosshair’s heart was trying to escape him now, and even more so when your face returned to being serious, “and I wouldn’t want you to risk it for me”

Crosshair matched your frown, drawing his brows together as the dots, the pieces of what you’d said, starting connecting.

“Do you think that's why I would protect you? Because I don't value my own life?” he asked, an irritate edge that made you draw back from him marginally.

“Yeah? I mean, why else…?”

He could have laughed, but instead he shook his head, “that’s not it”

He knew what he wanted to say really, but his mind fought to come up with something else, struggling to find the words to express every unsaid thing in a way that didn’t make him want to curl up in a ball and never speak again.

“It’s— I…” he trailed off, uncertain, “I value your life… more than anyone else’s”

Your eyes widened, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the corners of your lips lifted almost imperceptibly, “what do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes and looked away, “must I explain?”

“I'd like you to” you sounded small, and he looked back over to see that your eyes were wide, shining with hope. It filled him with such an uncommonly warm feeling that he couldn't possibly deny you an answer now.

“I…” he's flicked his eyes across your features, landing on your lips before finding your eyes again and sending you a somewhat pained look, “I can't— I don't know how to—”

You took his hand, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles and leaving goosebumps in your wake, “take your time”

Crosshair sighed, suddenly struck by how poor of an idea this was. He couldn’t help but dwell on the simple fact that you were far too good for him. He didn’t deserve someone like you, and he knew it. You were took kind, too patient, too far superior in emotional maturity and every other thing besides shooting a blaster for that matter. He didn’t believe that perfect people existed, but if there was anyone who reached the closest to those heights, it would be you.

“I… the way I treat you, it's not… right. and it's not a reflection of how I truly feel” he admitted.

You hummed, nodding as you focused your gaze on his palm, drawing shapes with your first finger, “and how do you feel?”

Crosshair was thankful that you weren’t looking at him, and knowing you, it was probably intentional. You knew what he was like, who he really was, and it was as startling as it was comforting. “I feel… a lot. You make me feel a lot”

You smiled, your thumbs tracing over his, “a lot of what?”

An exasperation began creeping on his mind. He knew you understood, you were smart, but you just wanted him to be the one to admit it. He could respect that, however hard he was finding it; you were finally not accepting his half-arsed attempt at affection.

“Happiness” he said finally, “you make me… happy”

Your eyes finally raised to his, giving him a curious look, he felt the need to continue.

“I know that I don't act like it, and I know that I certainly don't make you feel that way, and that you're interested in Hunter, so I'm under no impression that—”

“What?” your head tilted to the side, your expression portraying all of your confusion, “I'm not interested in Hunter”

“Oh” Crosshair sat completely still, just staring at you. He was sure he looked as confused as you did in that moment, but his heart still leapt in his chest all the same, “but… you were sleeping with him…?”

“He was just… I don't know” you sighed, wrapping his hand with yours, “when I had nightmares as a kid it used to help if I slept beside someone else. He noticed I wasn't sleeping well and offered some… comfort, I suppose”

Crosshair nodded, looking away and into the fire anyway, because he knew that Hunter would always be your first choice, and not him, even if it wasn’t in the way he had originally thought.

“But it didn't really help anyway” you said, “I suppose maybe I was sleeping next to the… wrong person?”

When he glanced back to you, there was something more reserved about your demeanour. You were never usually shy, sometimes quiet, but this was something that he hadn’t seen from you before.

“You're right, by the way” you noted, and he raised an eyebrow, “you haven't always made me feel very happy”

He offered a pitiful look, “I'm sorry”

“I know you are, and I don't forgive you for all of it, but I know you, and I know that you don't really mean it. And— well, the reality is…” you rambled out, finally pausing for a breath, or to muster your courage, “you also make me feel alive”

Crosshair’s brows shot up.

The entire atmosphere around the two of you changed, the air between you charged with unspoken words, energy waiting, begging to dissipate. Your free hand reached for his face, and you ran your thumb along the lines of his tattoo that followed his cheekbone. His eyes closed momentarily, a shaky breath leaving his slightly parted lips, and he gave into the moment, focusing on the feel of your fingers caressing his face.

Allowing himself to revel in your touch, appreciate it rather than trying to avoid it, he was ready to crumble into nothing. He could have, and he would have died a happy man, his last moment being in the embrace of your calming presence. Your hand found its place on his jaw, and he opened his eyes once more. He copied you, his hand reaching for your face and taking it tentatively within his grasp. Your skin was soft, ever so soft, and his thumb slid across your cheek with ease.

He felt so vulnerable in that moment, but he just didn’t care anymore. He felt safe with you, and for once he didn’t want to act like a wounded child about his feelings for you. He wanted to show you how strongly he truly felt, the beginnings of making up for the way he had treated you in the past.

Without another second to spare, he tugged on the hand that still clutched his, pulling you towards him, and his lips met yours with an ardency that surprised even him. His arms wrapped around you as he kissed you deeply, holding your body tightly to his, unwilling to let you slip away from him. He was stealing the very air from your lungs, giving you everything he had to offer, and you were taking everything in kind. You were trying your best to keep up, mostly succeeding, but eventually you had to break the kiss, almost gasping for air.

Your breath was heavy against his lips as he kept you in close proximity, and when your eyes met his, a small chuckle left you, bordering on a giggle. He pulled you flush against him, so you rested in his lap, and your face lit up even more. Crosshair felt like he was walking on air, and when you kissed him again, leaning all of your weight into it, he couldn’t help but smile against your lips. The kiss grew more heated gradually, and before he knew it, you were tugging at the blacks you had given him.

He shook his head, pulling away before you could get the wrong impression, “not here”

“Why not?” you frowned playfully, your hands slipping beneath the top and brushing against his skin.

Crosshair growled quietly as you attached your lips to his neck, making his next sentence hard to get out, “because I have more respect for you than to take you on the dirty floor of a cave”

You chuckled against his skin, pulling back to give him a genuine smile, but then it faltered, and he watched a thousand emotions flick across your face in the space of a second. He gripped you tighter, about to ask what was wrong, but you beat him to it with your answer.

“What if this is the only time we have?”

Crosshair knew you meant more than something as fleeting as a shared intimacy, and with the look on your face, he immediacy began to understand why people lied to others in the name of sparing their feelings.

He pushed his forehead into yours gently, “the others will find us”

Your lips turned down in a dubious expression, “but how are they going to get us out?”

For that, he didn’t have an answer. He brought a hand to your face, taking your jaw and hoping his actions brought some comfort, “I don’t know, but I’m not letting you die in here”

“Even you don’t have that power” you huffed.

Even you. The words hung in Crosshair’s mind, front and centre, meaning a lot more to him than you probably realised. It seemed that you were saying, even him, someone who could do almost anything, couldn’t do this. He realised then that you must think a lot more of him than he ever knew, and his heart almost seized up in his chest.

He let a small grin wind it’s way onto his face, “sure I do”

You gave him a lopsided grin, rolling your eyes as you buried your face in his neck, “yeah, yeah. Whatever you say”

As it promised to be, getting out was difficult. The others eventually came for you and Crosshair, by which point he had almost accepted that this was it, that he’d shared his final moments with you. That wasn’t enough anymore, it wasn’t a sufficient amount of time spent with you, and when he heard Hunter call for him, his need to get out was stoked. Tech had found that the rock on the other side of the cavern held a cave system, Wrecker had set a number of charges with a limited blast radius, and they pulled the two of you out from the other side.

But all of it was inconsequential, unimportant in the face of what had happened while you were still trapped. Even more so now that Crosshair held your body tightly to his, his arm wrapped around your waist as the fresh scent of your soap invaded his senses and no doubt began clinging to his bedsheets. He hadn’t let the others ask why he was suddenly being so clingy to you, but something about their smirks and knowing looks told him that he had only been fooling himself in not telling you how he felt.

You laid on his chest, careful not to rest against his wound, which you had treated properly upon returning to the ship. You had insisted it was the first thing you did, before anything else, and he wasn’t going to argue with you then, not when you frowned at him in a way that made his chest tighten. The trade off was that he got to join you in the shower afterwards. It hadn’t taken too much convincing.

Now with you in his arms, your light breath fanning his bare chest, he knew he wasn’t ever going to let you go. He’d spent too long trying to push you away, but now that he had you, you weren’t going anywhere, he’d make sure of it.

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @burningnerdchild @orangez3st @clones-cyare

[theoutcastrogue]

That said, the D&D 3.5 Paladin was bad. It was badly designed, it had bad rules, and in conjunction with the other notoriously bad rule, alignment, it could cause havoc.

Now personally, I never had ANY problems with it in my tabletop games. I played paladins and loved it, and I loved it when other people played paladins, and it was great. But that's because, collectively as a group, we took ONE look at that terrible rule where the paladin's code of conduct prevents them from associating with Evil characters or "someone who consistently offends her moral code", and immediately went, "that's stupid, we ain't doing that, it would ruin the game".

We also didn't love the concept of alignment as a cosmic force, and didn't care for Usually Evil Goblins and Always Evil anything. And when a class's signature ability fully depends on whether creatures are capital E Evil, well that affects storytelling, doesn't it? But we all saw it the same way, and we were happily able to change it without any disagreements. In the end we had a Paladin… similar to 5e now that I think of it: completely ignore the Code's association clause, tailor the Code to personal stance or a specific Order, Detect only fiends and undead and the like, Smite anything you want, Fall only if you really fuck up, and never presume that just because you haven't Fallen yet everything you've ever done is justified and correct and anyone who disagrees with you is objectively wrong.

Basically, there were 2 options in 3.5. You either houseruled and/or handwaved things, and in matters of alignment interpretations erred on the side of "what makes the game go",

OR, you played with Rules As Written, and filled the forums with questions like "should the paladin fall?" (one such thread per week, conservatively), "we got into a fight over the Paladin, what to do?", "is it Evil to pick pockets? because we have a Paladin in the party", "the Assassin uses poison, shouldn't that offend my moral code?", and shit like that. Just... pointless strife, all the time. Again, never happened to me, but I was appalled to read about it, over and over and over.

People got intense with 3.5 Paladins (both pro and against) because it was BADLY DESIGNED and had BAD RULES. Its mechanics forced narrative choices on the entire table, and the only way to make it frictionless was having a party where no one wishes to explore a character's bad side ever, no one does things that aren't bad but WotC branded Evil™ in this or that splatbook, and everyone magically agrees all the time on "what is right and what is wrong" and "what is Lawful and what is Chaotic", which is simply impossible. The most subjective thing in the world (ethics!) was presented as an objective cosmic force, and how you interpreted it would determine how much damage the Paladin deals in combat, and whether the Paladin could keep associating with the party, and if the Paladin is still a Paladin. And all that in a game, let's not forget, whose basic, fundamental premise is "kill things and take their stuff". I'm sorry, this is tremendously stupid. It's the WORST design.

I know that for some people it worked as written, and good for them, but for the many many people it didn't work, well it's obvious why.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Castiel pining over Jimmy Novak's best friend (S4)—why do you care for his vessel and not him?

Yandere Castiel became aware of your presence the day he became aware that Jimmy Novak was the person who would be his vessel. He didn't think much of you, simply another human amongst all the others. However, all humans are his father's creations. You seemed like what could be called a good friend—loyal. That is something he could relate to. A loyalty that in the beginning he respected wholeheartedly.

A positive beginning that aged like hard cider into a celestial being's desire of possession and obsess.

Yandere Castiel first met you face to face after possessing Jimmy's body. You had heard about his vessel's troubles and had come rushing over. It's an experience he will never forget.

You parked your vehicle in the driveway and ran out of your car in a panic. He could feel your heightened anxiety and panic, and he almost felt something. It was so peculiar. It made his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up.

He was planning on simply leaving, but you stood in front of him and pestered him with questions. When Jimmy's daughter came out, you told her, 'Me and your daddy are just going for a walk. He isn't feeling well, so we are going to get some fresh air.' Which Castiel thought was ludicrous. He tried to rebuff by telling you 'He is an angel of the Lord and that Jimmy Novak is his vessel—to which you promptly clamped your hand over his mouth and scolded him. 

He isn't entirely sure why he got in your human vehicle. He could have simply whisked himself and continued on the mission heaven gave him. He was supposed to. Still, with this unfamiliar reaction to you, he couldn't help but rationalize it as you being important to the celestial plane somehow. 

So that's how he ended up in a human hospital with you filling out papers that pertain to Jimmy.

Yandere Castiel found no need to pretend, so that's how he ended up dragging you into angelic affairs. Or perhaps it was the other way around. You were quite insistent on staying near him after he explained the situation to the extent he was allowed. There wasn't even a hesitance on your part. You were simply protective over his vessel, despite the fact he is the multidimensional being inside the vessel.

That's when that odd sensitivity popped up once again.

It was almost like you were just as concerned for him as you were for Jimmy. It was quite a useless emotion for you to have, but he was still... flattered? by it.

Yandere Castiel reluctantly separated himself from you to an extent. You had attracted attention from both heaven and hell, so he had to. He had to. Right?

Heaven wasn't pleased with him getting distracted. They essentially wanted to allow you to wander back into the world with no angelic protection. It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Now Castiel is no stranger to that. He's watched his brothers and sisters slaughter humans for much less egregious acts. Though this time it felt wrong.

He ended up warding you from all angels, including himself, with your consent, of course. He left a specific engraving on your ribs that roughly translates to 'mine. touch this human and I will smite you where you stand.'

Yandere Castiel felt as if his grace had been ripped from him when he was away from you. Could God have created you specially for him? It was an impossible thought. One no angel should have for a human. That's how mighty beings fall. It is heaven's number one rule not to love anything, not even the humanity their God created.

He pushed himself into the mission he was given and tried to ignore the sizzling sensation all over his celestial body. It's a spiritual reaction to being left without your presence for an extended period of time.

He worked with Uriel, then had to kill his brother. He had to kill many more for you to protect you. He met the Winchesters and learned about them; grew attached. Anna tempted him into developing the capacity for human emotion. He was so lost. You were; you are the only thing that makes him feel found—safe.

He took that safety from himself in order to protect you.

Foolishly, he seeked you and, in return, your presence.

That's when heaven knew they had to reprimand him.

Yandere Castiel experienced things up there that would physically not only break a lesser being's psyche but erase it. If anything, it only made that sizzling sensation evolve into a scorching one. It was as if his feathers were being stripped off one by one. An unforgiving hand that forces him towards you. The heart he doesn't have broke and learned to yearn.

Like an obedient soldier, he listened to their words. He swore his loyalty once again, and he was allowed back onto Earth. He didn't go to Jimmy first, no. He scoured the earth and thought you were gone for good until you called for him. That was a rash human decision. You were only hidden unless you made yourself known.

Yandere Castiel had to come and see you. He had to explain himself and rid this fiery ache from his celestial body. Only when he came to your call, your first question was about Jimmy, not him. You looked past him. You ignored the agony that was everywhere on him.

Why? That feeling didn't ease at your lack of care for the angel in front of you.

Your demands to know where Jimmy was and if his family was safe fell deafly on him. He had to put you in your place. Yes, it was out of anger and hurt, but also a certain amount of righteousness he felt he had to regain. You belong to him, even if you don't like it.

"I learned my lesson while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don’t serve man. And I-I certainly don’t s-serve... you."

He's just an obedient little soldier who has been broken by you.

[mmxxviii]

okay i don't know how wild of a take this is, but hear me out.

cassandra is not the god. kristen is.

now, in terms of game mechanics, that's not true. cassandra is very clearly a god, and kristen is her cleric and follower. kristen gets her powers from cassandra, cassandra gets worship from kristen (and presumably other people who kristen is recruiting).

but that's not how their relationship works.

gods also get power from their followers, you know? they get power from the worship they receive. except kristen isn't really doing a lot of worshipping right now. but you know who is? cassandra. she is begging, praying, for kristen to talk to her, to take time out of her day and all her responsibilities, to listen to the person that has put their faith in her. as much as kristen has faith in cassandra (even if she isn't actively recognizing it), cassandra has faith in kristen.

You don't have to be sorry. Hey, not too many people believe in me, but I believe in you. You brought me back, and I know you've been having a hard time, but when you're in the dark, I'm there holding your hand, okay?

in the last couple episodes, we've seen a lot about how kristen (and maybe craig) are the only ones keeping cassandra from oblivion. normally, it would be well within a god's power to strike down, to smite, anyone they wished, including one of their own followers. but if cassandra hurts kristen, she dies. meanwhile, kristen holds a very god-like power in her hands. she's already killed one god by rescinding her worship. she could very easily kill cassandra.

I see what you're saying. Yes, we are holding you from oblivion, and we're just kinda not doing a very good job right now. That's what you're kinda trying to tell me.

gods are busy. they try to listen to prayers, but they're so very busy and important. all cassandra has right now is kristen. that is her sole focus (aside from maybe not dying). kristen is busy. she ignores cassandra. cassandra texts kristen's friends to try and get kristen to talk to her. in that first episode or two, cassandra is desperate to be heard, to have a conversation, and kristen, who holds all the power, keeps shutting her down.

20 texts in a row saying, "Is Kristen mad at me?" From a goddess.

it isn't that kristen doesn't care. of course she does. gods always care. but her domain is mystery and doubt. she doesn't have all the answers. she isn't omnipotent. she is a teenager who has been thrust from clericdom to sainthood to godhood and she doesn't even know it.

kristen isn't the one bleeding red light. cassandra is.

if you're a cleric, and you let your god die, that's a failure. if you're a god and you let your cleric die, what is that?

[huramuna]

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets. 

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another. 

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply. 

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that. 

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely. 

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway. 

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole. 

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior. 

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there. 

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted. 

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.” 

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.” 

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive. 

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket. 

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point. 

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.” 

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball. 

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep. 

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.” 

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.” 

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?” 

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.” 

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape. 

“I need space. I need to think about this.” 

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.” 

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.” 

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.” 

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.” 

“Please— don’t go. I need you.” 

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out. 

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence. 

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option. 

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond. 

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him. 

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter. 

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were. 

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him. 

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water. 

You had to move out— you had to get away. 

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly. 

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now. 

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none. 

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?” 

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even… a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now. 

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

– 

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic. 

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat. 

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself. 

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat. 

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.” 

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.” 

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.” 

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.” 

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.” 

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door. 

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!” 

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it. 

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not. 

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago. 

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in. 

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped. 

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.” 

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned. 

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets. 

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink. 

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying. 

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision. 

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever. 

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.” 

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.” 

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.” 

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly. 

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted. 

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable. 

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave. 

“Is that… alright?” 

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest. 

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” 

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan. 

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close. 

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur. 

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be. 

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep. 

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one. 

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work. 

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him. 

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell. 

“A new collar?” 

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. 

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling. 

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?” 

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 1』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Being in someone else’s dream looks strange. Seeing your own dreams in your mind’s eye makes you perceive it as high definition, but looking at this place, it’s like watching a movie shot with a lens covered in vaseline. Except for one house, and it's yard where our cast is trying to walk without falling over.

Vil is currently clinging onto the prefect, who had by now developed the skill of surviving whatever wringer life throws her in. Leona groans out of annoyance. It’s bad enough that he has to spend his precious sleeping time doing this fuckery and spending time with the fuckass lizard and the others when he could be cuddling with the prefect (he will never admit that).

“This must be where the dream is set.” Malleus wondered out loud, not turning around when Azul struggled to learn how to use his legs for the second time. Idia was sad that the dream world didn’t have phones to record this with. So was Jamil.

The group were not accompanied by Crowley, who had explained that “Someone needs to make sure that nothing goes wrong!” (Y/N) knew he was going to say that before he said it. Like precognition limited to one singular idiot.

“...certainly not a pleasant start to this. The headmage said we must go through everyone’s dreams… what a bother.” Azul had managed to conquer the task of standing without falling over. “Got something embarrassing to hide, octopunk? We’ll see yours eventually.” Leona was quick to take out his annoyance on Azul, to which he only rolled his eyes. What a brute.

(Y/N) looked at everyone. They seemed fine. She deliberately ignored Vil, who was still clinging onto her forearm despite being able to walk by now as evidenced when she went to check on Riddle, who was standing still, staring at the house. With silent horror. Vil’s face was quickly changed into a smug smile. “What’s wrong, Rosehearts?” His words didn’t match his tone, a patronizing mockery. Riddle wondered if magic could be used in the realm of dreams. He’d like to shut Vil up, and get out of here. He knew exactly what this dream was about.

Yet, Riddle didn’t answer. Instead, he blushed as he heard a car roll into the driveway. A cute little vintage car. (Y/N) looked as… she herself stepped out? She was wearing a snazzy suit with a fedora, and carrying a briefcase. Very fitting with the old-timey vibe this whole place was oozing. But why was she here?

Azul watched Riddle suffer with glee, excited at the prospect of a rival removing themselves from the chase of (Y/N)’s heart.

「Azul: Oho! Interesting!」

Idia was concerned at Azul’s widening smile. Hell no. He NEEDS to figure out how to stop this series of unskippable cutscenes or he will be COOKED.

Jamil looks at Dream (Y/N)’s face. It’s quite accurate, with the exception of an uncharacteristic smoldering look. Wait… Oh, this’ll be good.

Dream (Y/N) has somehow acquired a bunch of roses, painted red, and opens the door. The group peers inside. Riddle wishes to pass away. 

「Riddle: How can I offend Draconia as fast as possible so that he’ll smite me out of existence?」

“Welcome home, beloved!” (Y/N) watches as the Dream Riddle greets her dream counterpart with a kiss on the cheek. Dream (Y/N) presents him the bouquet, which he gladly takes.

It’s going to be a long night.

[blessedbyahuntress]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Seventeen: IMA SMITE HIM

Prev/Next

A/N: My apologies, I need to write a short chapter every once and a while.

Warnings: Mentions of death, but this is EPIC so like... anyways, attempts of self-harm (unsuccessful for the most part. I would never have my baby hurt herself)

Word Count: 600

Wind rushed past you as you fell. Odysseus was still clutching your hand like a lifeline, but his eyes were squeezed shut. 

You and your captain’s survival would depend on you.

Ignoring the shouts of your crewmates that you could hear all the way from the ship, you glanced down. You were about fifty seconds away from smashing onto the rocky ground of the Underworld. 

You latched your other hand on Odysseus’s forearm, dragging him closer to you as you tumbled through the cold air until he was right on top of you, and you had both of his hands in yours. 

You had a theory, and if you were right, you and Odysseus would escape this with little more than a few bruises.

And if you were wrong… 

The impact with the ground knocked all of the breath out of you. But at least you had breath.

You shouldn’t be alive. 

Odysseus’s eyes snapped open, widening when he realized he was on top of you. He scrambled off, concern burning in his gaze as he studied you.

You winced as you struggled to sit up. Odysseus cleared his throat.

“No offense,” he said. “But shouldn’t you be dead right now?”

You took a moment to find an answer, sighing when you realized he would believe nothing but the truth. 

You felt your spine mending, the bruises fading. That definitely was not normal. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, you unsheathed your sword. You didn’t look anywhere but the blade as you cut across the skin of your forearm. Odysseus watched you in shocked silence.

Your blood- it was golden ichor- the blood of gods.

You suddenly felt dizzy, sword clattering to the ground beside you. You had suspected, of course, but seeing it in real life, it seemed impossible. 

“Ody.” Your soft voice barely stirred the air.

You finally lifted your gaze, eyes meeting your captain’s as the wound closed up on its own.

“You’re a goddess,” he said.

Your mouth felt dry- you weren’t sure if you could speak. So you only nodded.

Odysseus ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t that mean you could smite me at any moment?”

You barked a laugh. It was dry, humorless; nothing like your old giggling. “Yes, Ody,” you agreed. “I suppose I could.”

Your captain closed his eyes as if to control the rhythm of his breathing. “But… how?” He asked. 

It sounded like he was questioning the universe, but you answered anyway. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve been with us the whole time. Gods above, you’ve been with me my entire life! Eurylochus told me about Hermes training you. Perhaps he could have something to do with it… no. Athena has mentored me for much longer, and I’m not on Olympus right now. Didn’t you have normal blood during the Trojan War? I thought it was red-”

You cut off his ramble with a finger to his lips. “Shush, Ody. I- this has to be a mistake. I can’t be a goddess just like that. Ya know what? I’ll ask Hermes the next time I see him, alright?” You sighed. “Just… drop it for now.”

You held Odysseus with your piercing gaze until he finally nodded. 

You rose to your feet, not a hint of pain in your stance, nothing marking the fact that you had just fallen off of a cliff.

Odysseus beside you, you started toward the ship. 

“If I really am a goddess, I’m definitely coming back down here to smite that prophet the next chance I get.”

Taglist: @barrythestrawberry041 @thereigningking @m-carriaga2021 @jackintheboxs-world @fallenh34art @itzkingbo @sabrina-senpai @smartiepants217 @doodle-with-rhy

[vandal-flower]

Saying Something Stupid, like I Love You

Poseidon x Amphitrite!Reader

Requested. @amphitriteswife

Plot: Poseidon faces a dilemma concerning his love life. Reluctantly accepting their help, he plans to make things right with (Name). Thankfully she is lonely on New Year's and needs all the company she can get.

Warnings: Poseidon is bad at feelings but it works out, angst but a happy end.

Notes: Happy new year. Here is my gift. 🐚

"You've been an awful mood lately.", Zeus teased, raking his beard as he chuckled.

His brother, Poseidon didn't dare to say anything, but instead glared at him. Not that it would do much anyways.

"Look I was right Hades! Doesn't he look like a pouting child!", at this point Poseidon nearly summoned his trident just to skewer his brother, not caring for the consequences at hand.

But before he could, Hades smacked Zeus's head, "Quit your teasing Zeus, but you do have a point. Brother what is going on with you, did something happen?", Hades glanced over at the ruler of the seas with a look of concern.

In all his years, not once did Hades ever see Poseidon be so...off. Sure he is arrogant, but he has the power to back it up. But now, he looks as if he is distressed. This whole week he has been.

From what he heard, he has been ignoring meetings with his fellow godlike beings, causing unnecessary problems, ignoring his duties on Olympus, and at one point nearly flooded the whole of Olympus when asked about it.

Since that incident, no one has been able to tell him to stop, out of fear of being killed.

"It's nothing you should concern yourself. I'm perfectly fine."

If there was anything that Hades knew better than anyone else, it was that Poseidon was a terrible liar.

Zeus sneaked behind Poseidon's chair, "Let me take a guess."

"You need my help but you don't want to admit it."

"I would never require the assistance of someone like you."

"You accidentally broke your trident and now you're throwing a fit."

"Should I smite you with said 'broken trident' Zeus?"

"Is it concerning Amphitrite?", Hades asked, breaking the dispute between his younger brothers.

Poseidon was silent. Bingo.

Zeus's laugh filled the room as Hades chuckled at the sudden realization. Poseidon has been having love problems. Should news of Poseidon's love life ever go out, the Heavens would fall apart. Maidens and potential suitors would have their dreams shattered.

Realizing he could not get out of this mess, Poseidon, reluctantly, have a brief summary of his situation.

Amphitrite or (Name), has been distancing herself from him as of late. Everytime he approached her, she would throw some reason to excuse herself. No longer could he see her glowing dark skin under the sun, or the moonlight. Stare into her eyes that put the beauty of various beings to shame. He could no longer be held by her, or even listen to her enchanting voice.

In short, he could no longer be with her.

"I never thought you would be a lovesick fool Poseidon. Never thought they day would come.", Zeus joked earning another glare from Poseidon.

"It makes sense, you have been a temper tantrum. I should've stopped your habit if I knew it was going to be this bad.", Hades said, a smile growing on his face as he too teased the King of the Seas.

Poseidon hated the reaction he received from his brothers. They were making fun of him, and had it not been for the fact that they're his most trusted pupils, he would of ended their lives swiftly long time ago.

Soon, Hades collected himself, and Zeus followed suit. "So do you want our help or not, lover boy Poseidon?", Zeus nudged Poseidon, further agitating him.

With no other option, Poseidon answered a begrudgingly "yes".

The aftermath of Christmas lingers as festive lights and decorations all around the Heavens. With the new year, brought new beginnings and although it was meant to bring joy, it had only brought more sadness to (Name).

Seeing all the couples walking around with each other in arms, or buying more fireworks to celebrate the new years at their parties. Not to mention, a sculpture of Zeus dressed up in a tuxedo with Hera beside him with a glamorous dress to showcase her beauty. How great...

As much as she wished to climb into the arms of her friends to get rid of her feelings, she couldn't. With the following reasons...

Her nymph friends were trying to get a chance to be with gods like Apollo.

Persephone was visiting Hades in the Underworld or her mother on the Overworld.

Other friends of hers were visiting family or too busy.

Nonetheless, she was alone. She sighed to herself, the cold wind gently blowing against her face."For a bright and lively season like this, you don't like you're having much fun."

(Name) perplexed at the sudden voice, turned around to see Hermes. "Happy New Year to you Hermes. Any deliveries you should be attending to?", she looked at him with suspicion. Hermes smiled wider than usual.

"No reason.", he spoke. "However if I were you, I would go to the beach to calm all my worries." He pointed towards the beach, his smile not faltering not once. (Name) frowned at his words.

Sure, the beach would be great. Sand under her feet, and a chance to relax in the cool waters. However it reminded her of Poseidon.

Something told her that he doesn't like her presence as he hardly ever responded to what she says, only answering with a nod or a hum. And with his cold attitude, it only made sense he didn't think much of her or at all. The guilt of wasting his and her time ate her inside.

So to avoid making the situation worse, she distanced herself. Sure it hurts, but it's the thought that counts.

"Any reason for you to say that? In fact, why don't you mind your business, go run errands somewhere. I'm busy.", she waved off his suggestion and continued walking.

"Oh, but you have to. Poseidon ordered for your presence. And if word got out that you rejected the Poseidon himself, what would the Heavens make of you?"

Damn. He made a good point.

With no other choice, (Name) changed course and walked towards the beach. Not without cursing Hermes.

"So...you wanted my presence, Lord Poseidon?", (Name) asked. Before her was a dinner table and multiple decorations: seashells, corals, and lights. Donned in a fine suit with a small flower in the chest pocket, was the King of the Seas with his signature cold gaze. In his hands held a bouquet.

"I would like to take you to dinner.", he answered as she still tried to process the situation. This was all too much! The dinner table, decorations, and the flowers?

It would have been anyone's dream to experience was the scene right in front of her eyes, but not her. She avoided Poseidon like the plague only for him to ask for her and present her with dinner? Romantic as it is, it seemed suspicious...

"But, why? You clearly don't like my presence, so why the sudden change, AND why did you feel the need to plan a romantic dinner?!"

His eyes glanced at a rock that hid both Hades and Zeus, the duo gave him a thumbs up. He glared at them before turning his attention back to (Name). "I wanted to make you feel special, and...to apologize for my behaviour towards you."

If there was one thing the King of the Seas was not good at doing was apologies, however it was always genuine whenever he was backed into a corner to apologize.

"Apologize?"

"Yes."

Internally, (Name) clutched her pearls. Poseidon the King of the Seas, most feared Olympian, apologizing?! "It must be a dream", she thought.

Poseidon took a deep breath, silently cursing his brothers, " (Name), for the past weeks that I was away from your presence, I had the opportunity to contemplate my actions towards you."

"Every time you make some pathetic excuse to avoid me, it...breaks my heart to see you go. Your presence makes living more tolerable, since I'm surrounded by a circus.", Zeus gasped is shock at his comment, had it not been for Hades stopping him, he would have ruined the moment.

"You are more enchanting than the stars themselves, your voice eases my heart, and even if I were to give you a thousand compliments today and ten thousand tomorrow, it would still not be enough to describe how I truly feel about you."

Despite the cold look on his face, his cheeks and ears were dusted with pink. His eyes held a hidden warmth only meant for her. He walked towards (Name), holding the bouquet of forget-me-nots to her. It looked like he wanted to propose to her.

"But why, do this all for me, why do you want me?", (Name) asked, tears about to spill from her eyes. Poseidon sighed, "Because I love you."

Zeus and Hades popped their heads from behind the rock, eyes wide open. To hear their Poseidon actually say he loves someone was a miracle of itself.

Time had stood still for a moment between (Name) and Poseidon. Without realizing, tears had already started streaming down her face. Closing the distance from the two, Poseidon wiped her tears away with his thumbs. (Name) pressed her forehead against his, her eyes looking into his own.

"I appreciate the view, allowing me to see your eyes closely once more.", he whispered causing a smile to form on her face. She wrapped her arms around his waist, before giving him a kiss on the lips. As she pulled away, she rested her hands on his cheeks.

"Come back to my palace, there's a new collection of pearls and other accessories that I believe would suit you."

"I would love to, my dearest."

The two entered the ocean together, Poseidon in the arms of (Name), and (Name) telling him of her latest adventures. Once the two were gone, Zeus and Hades left their hiding spot.

"Well that turned out better than I anticipated.", the King of the Heavens smiled. "But what to do about the dinner setup?", Hades questioned.

The two stopped and thought about, "I'll just use it as an apology to Hera, after we had our argument the other day.", Zeus said.

"You are really shameless."

Happy new years!!

Sorry if Poseidon is ooc, but we deserve a soft Poseidon at least once in a while...

[malleusfucker]

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was. 

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 

“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

[peachyfnaf]

sun and moon show tumblr dashboard simulator. because i find these hilarious and this fandom needs one. assume this takes place in a "bad shit happens, but everyone's still on speaking terms" au for it to make the most sense kfjhsfd

0 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

when the nightmare goes so hard when you wake up you have to walk into the ocean just to make sure

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Lunar, are you okay..?

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

guess

22 notes

👤 sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

ok but the creator is kind of a dilf tho

🦙 TSAJSwillprevail Follow

he's killed hundreds

👤sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

is a man not allowed to be a manic pixie dream girl in this day and age

🛸 moonenjoyer9315 Follow

guys are we just ignoring op's url

536 notes

☣️ mellorinefuega Follow

coming across montgomery gator in the wild is crazy. like i was just trying to make a deposit at the bank one time and he came up behind me and punched the teller in the face

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

op my girlfriend went thru a similar experience a few months ago. this dude sounds like a menace, fr. so happy hes not near me.

🐊 trustmewithyourinformation Follow

182.62.250.90

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

is that my fukcign ip address

1,102 notes

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

This is a gentle reminder that everything will be okay, you just have to give it time!!!

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

im seriously at my limit

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Just give it time, everyone!!!

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

earth are you okay

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

guess

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

nexus NO

179 notes

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

eclipse v2 and nexus are one in the same. hit post. and go to bed

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

i just woke up. ive never been this scared to look at notes in my life

979 notes

💡 ballogmore Follow

i love going to the pizzaplex with my little sister bc she's there for the glamrocks. i'm there to see if i can get my hands on that twinky little jester

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

Which twinky little jester op

💡 ballogmore Follow

the daycare attendant model??? whomst the fuck else?????

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

You'd be surprised how little that narrows it down, actually

34,343 notes

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

🗡️ leavethatlittleguyalone Follow

bro what did v2 do to you

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

exist

557 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every day i try to not let my brother rob a bank, and then every day he provides me good reasons as to why i should let him

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

sun do yuo know what you could do with the money

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

i dont want to know, moon

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

do you need a getaway diver

52 notes

🌊 themagicwawa Follow

"sun is so cute!! solar's such a dilf. nexus being insane is so ho-"

absolutely none of you can handle what i have to say about him

99 notes

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

god help me, hes so fine

🏝 chronicappleeater-deactiaved062324

yeah, him and all 5 pixels

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

i see god smited you for this one

😈 itsme-fromthebible

wrong deity, but appreciate it regardless

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE??!?!

823,383 notes

🦌 dailydazzledeer Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope taurus destroys the planet

55,932 notes

🦫 elchipichipichapachapa Follow

it's taken months, but i've finally finished it. the document explaining everything wrong with the sun and moon show

here's the link. enjoy

732 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every time one of us makes them mad, moon and nexus get closer to becoming the Hitachiin twins from ohshc to retaliate, and i fear the day they decide to just do it

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

HOW DID YOU BOTH REBLOG AT THE EXACT SAME TIME THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR 4 MINUTES

18 notes

🟦 woobificationofthesillies Follow

"we need more evil women in the world!!!" you people cant even handle miku

932,382 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

starting a conspiracy theory that we're all just puppets in a youtube show's script and that's why our lives are so miserable

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

hey guys why was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes