#I don’t have much experience with comics so this took me way longer than it should’ve to complete LOL

[browniesnivy]

The above statement is… A) True B) Valid C) Both true and valid

[crazylittlejester]

Opinion time

honestly, I like the hero of time as much as the next person- OOT is one of my favorite games in the whole entire series and I love the characterization Jo-Jo gave him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admit he’s an extremely flawed character

and I mean this in a good way, Jo-Jo wrote a character you can know did bad things and still like him /pos

but I didn’t like how, in the timeline parts, wind does confront and ask him “why did you leave?” And times only response is, in my own words

”I left it behind cuz I felt like it LMAO”

..????? yes he took percussions to make sure ganon “didn’t come back” (which.. he did, time knew the seal would break eventually. ganon literally screams out about how much he hates him and is coming for his descendants)

leaving an entire world behind to rot is just written off as “shit happens” and you can’t say “well time didn’t know what he was doing” because, at some point, yes he FIGURES OUT his actions have consequences /nm

Imagine being rulie, your entire world is a wasteland and you ask the guy who CAUSED its downfall “why does my land suck so much” he just goes “oops my bad”

in the child timeline he just fucks off, in the downfall timeline he dies, comes back, and says forget everybody else, he only really started giving half-a-shit in the adult timeline with twilight. We can see this with his blatant favoritism over him.

anyways this was me screaming at the clouds about how time isnt a cookie cutter hero, he’s flawed and he’s made mistakes and honestly? It makes his character better and more enjoyable. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk (feel free to give ur opinion on the matter)

okay sorry for any spelling mistakes or oddly autocorrected words, this was kinda a lot longer than i thought it would be alkjslkjs 😭

Okay this is an incredibly interesting perspective and I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone else with this exact take on Time. I have a much different view of his character and his actions, though it was nice to read yours! /gen

First off, I completely agree that Time is a incredibly flawed person, and that’s part of why I love his character so much. He is not perfect, he is not the best leader, he makes mistakes. I genuinely think that the only reason he’s leader of this group and why the others tolerate him being the unofficial official leader is because even they can acknowledge that Time is just the best person for that role. He is not a perfect leader, he is not and I don’t know if he’ll ever truly reach that, but looking at the other options, he really was the best for the role. (Warriors would’ve been incapable of fully separating the others from the military in his mind, Twilight wouldn’t have been able to go off as Wolfie without causing mistrust or doubt towards him in the beginning, and Legend simply didn’t WANT that. The only other person who possibly could’ve lead the group would be Sky, and while I do think that could work, Time has way more experience)

Time has made a lot of mistakes, in his games, in the comic, he’s not flawless. I think in the comic (LU) we most commonly see this through how he’ll say things that come across as incredibly flat, snappy, or a bit harsher than what was really necessary for the situation. And this is just something it seems like he’s always been like, at least with how Jojo characterizes him, because in that one sketch with him and Malon when they were younger, he said something that did very much come off as snappy/rude, and he immediately realized how what he said sounded and tried to make an attempt to apologize. In the most recent update, we see how his stress and emotions made him much snappier and harsh towards the others than he really needed to be. I’d even argue in some moments, when he’s talking about his past and we see parts of his past, he’s a BIT arrogant. He certainly isn’t that way anymore, or at least he’s not as arrogant, but we see some moments where he comes off ass a little full of himself, the one I remember the clearest is the expression on his face when he got into Gerudo Town and a bit how he was talking about it. He’s also able to admit his flaws and that he was too distracted and let that get in the way of him helping the others while Twilight was hurt

Where I disagree with you (AND THIS IS ALL MY OPINION AND MY INTERPRETATION) is on Time’s thoughts surrounding the whole timeline thing. I do not think he had ANY idea that he was creating a whole other timeline, nor do I think he really even had a choice. He was sent back in time in an attempt to stop Ganon from destroying everything, and I believe he’s spent all the years since thinking all he did was go back in time. I don’t think he ever even considered the fact that Wind’s timeline continued on without him there (screenshots taken from Timeline Talk 1, art credit to @/linkeduniverse)

He DIDN’T know what he was doing. He was like, 9-10 in the body of (roughly) a 17 year old, he was doing whatever he was told by Zelda, Rauru and the sages, the goddesses, whoever. And I don’t think ANYONE realized the consequences of sending him back in time like that. I genuinely think that this right here is where he realizes not only that the timelines split, but the timelines split because of HIS adventure/journey. And when faced with the idea that every time he used his ocarina he abandoned hyrule (kingdom) he seems horrified (also from Timeline Talk 1):

I also don’t think the others have any idea at all that Hyrule and Legend are on a separate timeline from everyone else. I think everyone who comes after Time on ANY timeline has heard of him, but Legend and Hyrule haven’t had the chance really to talk about their timeline with Time, at least not really like how Wind did. And even if they had, again, Time DIED in their timeline, which could not possibly in any way have been his fault 😭

So yeah, he did leave Wind’s timeline (which is the adult timeline), but he genuinely had no idea that it got ABANDONED. I think the way he was looking at is was like erasing and starting anew and not just writing over what was already written and leaving that there (if that makes sense). And even if he had realized he completely abandoned that time, I’m not sure it would’ve even been possible for him to go back, and if he HAD, there’s only one Time. Twilight either wouldn’t have been born, or he’ve been born in Wind’s timeline. Which raises some INTERESTING theories because if Twilight had been there, would his game have happened? If it HAD, would Wind even be a hero? Given that whole theory that Wind doesn’t even have the hero’s spirit and he CHOSE the hero life instead of the other way around. That’d honestly be so interesting to explore!! I kinda wanna write a fic on it

Time did was he was told to do, he did was he was guided to do by people older than him or who had more ‘power’ than him. He was around ten years old, I don’t think he had a “Lmao fuck this shit” attitude when timeline hopping, I don’t think he understood he was timeline hopping at all. He didn’t understand what he was doing and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was just trying to survive, and I’ll even bet he really thrived on what little acknowledgement and appreciation he got for saving hyrule (kingdom) because he seems (to me at least) like after losing the Great Deku Tree and the Kokiri he was REALLY lonely

And yes, he definitely for sure has a soft spot for Twi. But aside from Twi JUST being his descendant, I think Time feels bad that Twi followed after him in the hero business. He probably realized Twilight was descended from him and then really LOOKED at him and saw everything that young man went through and Time probably felt AWFUL. And after realizing that Wind’s entire timeline suffered because of something he did, I’m sure he feels the same way towards Wind. Because he may not be Time’s blood, but he’s a KID and he’s been through so much. Also there could be an argument made that Time is such a hoverer around Twi rn because he was hurt. I’m sure Four could’ve been the one who was hit and Time would be hovering over HIM instead

TL;DR: Yes Time is incredibly flawed. That’s what makes him interesting, that’s what makes him a good character, I wouldn’t like him very much if he were perfect alkjslksj. But I do not think he intentionally abandoned the other timelines, nor do i think that has anything to do with why he seemingly favors Twi. He was a kid, I don’t think anyone understood what was happening. I think if Wind had never spoken up, Time never would’ve known

(also Timeline Talk 1):

but thanks for sharing your perspective! It’s always interesting to see the different ways we see the same character :) /gen

[revserrayyu]

Real quick Wardance thoughts [part 2]

**SPOILERS** for everything happening after the final match. Basically some story stuff and a bunch of goodbyes, but it’s mostly just me loving every second the Yaoqing trio is on screen.

Seeing a younger Jing Yuan is precious, but it was made even better hearing Alejandro’s natural voice during this short scene.

I know Igor was mentioned at the very start of this event and was sort of a constant, small side story amongst everything else, but his history and reason for entering the Wardance really was unfortunate from what I remember (which isn’t much.) Shame he’s no longer around. I would’ve definitely tried pulling for him if he ever had the chance to be playable.

While Jarilo-VI is no longer a small, unknown ball of ice floating in space, I was not expecting it to have more visitors so soon. I wonder how the Belobogians reacted to seeing their first foxian. & is it safe to assume that our pilot, who refuses to fly anymore, took the Astral Express here? Because that’s what I’m going to believe. Also, Seele spotted! Huzzah!! (no Serval at all though. I cry. or Clara now that I think about it.)

More allies, let’s goooo! Dang, imagine how awesome it would be to see Belobog experience other seasons aside from a perpetual winter. Or to have the residents able to travel outside the city’s walls, free from any danger. I adore everyone from Belobog so much and I hope they get the chance to live such fulfilling lives. They deserve it!

I have not checked the museum for myself yet, but if this photo is actually displayed there now, then that is so cute. And I know I can’t be alone in thinking this, but because of the striking red hair, Igor must be some sort of ancestor to Luka, yeah? It might be a stretch but they even got similar big grins too.

Alright, enough of my favorite planet and onto my favorite trio. Jiaoqiu sweetie, I treasure those few days so much! I just wish you were spared from all the trauma.

What a way with words. A poet, even. And yes of course I chose the first option. I feel bad pointing out his little slip up, but I wanted to know his reaction even more.

Pfft, the fact they let him talk for so long without mentioning he was facing the wrong way.. I’ll admit it is a bit comical.

Awww honey no! Don’t apologize! If I were them, I’d move myself in front of whatever direction he was facing so he wouldn’t feel bad.

It’s okay, we don’t blame you! At least he says it’s only his eyes that aren’t of any use instead of himself. That’s thinking positively I guess. I’m sure he’s still quite capable in doing many things, even in a kitchen. I mean, the guy had his eyes closed 90% of the time anyway, so surely he can still cook up a decent meal while blind thanks to muscle memory and his expertise. The other two would gladly assist him as well.

How much you wanna bet our Jiaoqiu isn’t going to listen to any doctor’s order because he’s a healer and knows his body better than anyone else? Feixiao & Moze are gonna make certain he heals up properly. But maaann, I wish they showed us Feixiao in the crowd during the final match, if only for a split second.

A perfect trio. One who can’t compete because of rules, another who wouldn’t fight because that’s not his job and the other who shouldn’t, lest he end someone’s life by accident. Pretty fair reasons.

Moze is an absolute mood. I’m not a big fan of chatting either. Quite ironic, given how much I can ramble on about this game and its characters, isn’t it?

Her whole “lacking in worries, regrets and rivals” outlook on life is wonder and I love it but NOW our Lacking General has but ONE REGRET! Aaaah.. honestly, I do too. I regret not pulling Jiaoqiu, but IN MY DEFENSE.. Feixiao was right after him and I needed to save big for her. I also didn’t really have a team suitable for our healer to excel in.. but next time for sure! I’ll bring him home!

Son of a bitch they’re so precious and sweet I wanna scream. It’s a blessing in disguise that this entire goodbye scene wasn’t voiced because if I had to hear all the emotion in their voices for this conversation I would’ve been an even bigger, sobbing mess.

Pfftt, thank you Moze for focusing on the task at hand. We can always count on him to be blunt.

Yeah how about NO. I do not wish to see you guys leave me! I’m holding onto that “for now” with such a tight grip. Y’all better return sooner rather than later, you hear me??

I absolutely took my time taking photos of them. I love ‘em with all my heart and can’t wait to see them more in future arcs.. as long as nothing else bad happens. Surely my devotion shall protect them from any troublesome plot! You hear me, Hoyo? Only wholesome and heartwarming stuff from here on out!

I am kinda bummed Huaiyan turned out to be nothing but a unique looking npc. He might not have been a character I might’ve pulled for if he was playable, but he would’ve definitely had some cool combat animations I’m sure.

I know I’ve said it somewhere before, whether in a post of my own or in comments, but Fu Xuan is probably my least favorite character. I just.. don’t vibe with her at all. I dunno. With that said, I didn’t mind that she was practically absent from these entire last two patches. So yes, I called her sassy, lost and short.

Astral Express parents showing up fashionably late to the party. Ya think a black hole or orbital laser could’ve destroyed Hoolay’s blood moon? We shall never know. I do wonder how their own task with those fossils and Ruan Mei turned out though. That’s something I’m looking forward to hearing more about, especially since Yaoguang mentioned at the end of the 2.5 story that our mad scientist has just boarded the Luofu too.

Huzzah, the end~ Much less serious this time around but at least we’re finally done. I wasn’t a huge fan of the Xianzhou during our initial trip here during the story, but these last two updates were some of my favorites for sure. (and I promise it’s not only because of my Yaoqing trio bias)

[ghostofskywalker]

Your writing is amazing thanks so much for sharing!

For the winter ficlets how about “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.” With a gender neutral reader and Kix?

No pressure though thank you!

this was so fun, thank you for the prompt!!

words: 1,035

summary: Kix startles you awake in the medbay by accident. He just wants to make sure you get the rest you need.

Long Hours Make For Tired Jedi Healers

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

As Kix stepped into the Resolute’s medbay for his shift, he stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. Your overall presence in the space wasn’t a surprise, as he had known that you were here on the ship, but he had never seen a Jedi sleep before, and especially not the one that he had a little crush on.

For someone that fought tooth and nail to ensure that all clone medics had all the tools they could ever need on their flagships and that there was a mandatory cap on how many hours someone could work in a row without at least a sixteen hour break, you were terrible at following your own advice. The amount of time you had spent in this very chair was completely unknown to him, and he knew that it was probably way longer than you were going to admit.

The three patients in the medbay that you were technically watching over were also fast asleep, and Kix was grateful that life had slowed down a little for now. Of course the galaxy was still at war, and would be for the foreseeable future, but he still liked to take advantage of the times when his stress levels began to come down.

It was no shock that you had fallen asleep, especially with how your life was going at this point in time. Because you had some healing experience under your belt by the time the war broke out, you spent most of your time bouncing between battalions rather than working with a consistent group of soldiers, helping overworked medics in any way you could. Kix was always incredibly grateful for the time he spent with you, and not only because you were an incredible healer. He knew that developing feelings for a Jedi was never going to end in anything but heartbreak, but he could never help it with you.

Torn between wanting to let you sleep and also thinking that you would benefit the most from this nap if it took place in a bed rather than a chair, he took a few steps towards you, intending to wake you in the gentlest way he possibly could, but those plans were shattered when he accidently tripped over his own feet, only catching himself by throwing his arms out to grab onto the desk (that you were resting your head on).

Your head shot up instantly, and a somewhat crazed look took over your features as you grabbed the first thing you could find in order to use it as a weapon.

You were probably going for your lightsaber, but it just so happened that your datapad was actually the closest item. The image Kix saw was nothing but comical, especially given the fact that GAR-issued technology was incredibly fragile and wouldn’t at all make for an effective weapon. “Kix!” you said as you took in the situation, your face shifting as embarrassment took over your features. “I’m so sorry, you just startled me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile. “But I will say, I’ve never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

A soft scoff left your mouth as you shook your head, the absurdity of the situation finally clicking in your mind. “Yeah, I don’t know what I thought was going to happen when I grabbed it.”

“I’m sorry for waking you like that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to throw myself against the table.”

“It seems we’re both a little bit of a mess today,” you laughed. “I won’t hold it against you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he said, a smile growing on his face (as one always did when he spoke to you). “You should go get some rest.”

To others, those words might have seemed like he was trying to push you out of the room, but he never meant it that way. Wanting to make sure the people he cared about took care of themselves was so ingrained in Kix’s personality that he barely noticed when the instinct took over, and you were absolutely one of those people (and not only because he knew that you rarely put your own needs before anyone else’s).

And as he suspected, you weren’t about to start doing that now. “No, I’m fine,” you said. “I should be around to help if you need me.” He raised his eyebrows at you, and he must have succeeded in getting across some of his emotions, because you spoke again, this time with a slight defensive tone to your voice. “What if something happens?”

“We are in so far away from any planet that I think you can get some rest for a few hours,” Kix said. “You know I’m a fully trained medic, right?”

Your eyes widened as you took in his implication. “I’m not suggesting- I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t mean it like that, I promise,” he laughed, cutting off your frantic words. “But I can tell that you’re tired, so you need to get some rest.”

Something about his tone (or maybe it was his expression) must have clicked in your mind, because you just nodded before beginning to gather your things from the desk. “You can comm me if you need anything, and I’ll be here-”

“I will let you know if there is some kind of emergency,” he said, even though he doubted it would ever happen. “Now please, can you go and get some rest? For me?”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around him for a moment, and Kix relished in the feeling of your closeness (even if it was over way quicker than he wanted it to be). “I will,” you said softly. “But-”

He just looked at you, clearly pretending to be annoyed .“Go!”

You echoed his teasing tone. “Fine!”

Soon Kix was once again the only waking person in the medbay, and he faced a long shift ahead of him, but he didn’t really mind being alone for a little while. He certainly didn’t want to admit how much your short hug had affected him, and he just hoped that you were truly getting the rest you so desperately needed. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[aussie-bookworm]

do you need to get *in the zone* to write? if so, how dya do it? any tips on just getting up off your ass and writing?

Oh yeah I definitely need to get in the zone to write. Some days are easier than others lol

As for tips… keep in mind these are my personal tips and it’s not one size fits all – you gotta figure out what works out for you personally

1. Have a good idea about what you’re writing

It might seem a bit obvious but having a good idea of what you want to write does help a bunch. I’m more excited to write if I know what scenes I’m working on and how they relate to the story.

Think about what scenes you want to include while you’re not writing, that way you have something to look forward to when you’re actually sitting in front of your word doc.

Scenes that I’ve been thinking about a lot just fly by because I’m excited to finally get the words out onto the page and I have a good understanding of how things might play out.

2. Set the vibe

Exactly what it says on the tin. Identify what helps you stay in the zone and ready to write and use it to your advantage.

Does listening to music help? Turn it up. Does a specific environment help you pay attention? Go there and if you can’t, try to replicate it. Is your font difficult to read or just plain boring? Change it Comic Sans!

(That last one is a joke but I’m not gonna stop you if you wanna change your default typeface to Comic Sans lmao)

Work on your own environment and make it as writer friendly as possible. But also never underestimate the power of changing things up once in a while.

For example: I typically write in my room where I know no one will distract me. I do short spurts of writing when I get home from work and do longer sessions on weekends. I put on a random playlist and shuffle it, but occasionally I change it up and play video game OSTs.

I tend to change the colour of my pages in Google Docs to be pastel colours so I can still see my words but feel less intimidated by the white of an empty page. I avoid snacking on chips while I write because I dislike grease and flavouring getting on my keyboard.

On the rare occasion when I’m on a weekend trip, I bring my laptop along so I can still do some writing during quiet moments before bed.

This is just what works for me. I’m well aware some of these environmental factors are very niche but you gotta experiment to see what works for you!

Speaking of your environment…

3. Minimise distractions but know when you need to take a break

As much as I would love to, you can’t write while scrolling through Tumblr lol. It’s a classic piece of advice but for a good reason. Focus on the page in front of you and put your phone far away from you if you have to.

But also recognise when you’ve had enough of writing. I’ve found that sometimes during a long writing session, I start to skip words or my descriptions start to not make any sense or something else. It’s a pretty good sign that you need to take a quick break and give your brain a refresh.

Go outside, put on a short YouTube video, do some chores, scroll tumblr, just do something short and sweet that will allow your brain a little break so you can get back to writing once you’re done.

If you are really struggling with staying focused and in the zone, I would recommend trying a writing sprint.

I only found out about these this year but they have been massively helpful in getting me to stay focused.

Set a timer for however long you want (I usually go for 10 minutes) and write non-stop until that timer goes off. You don’t even need to worry about grammar and spelling. Just get the words out and you can edit them later.

It helps identify when it’s break time and sometimes you’ll find that you’ll want to keep on writing after the timer has gone off.

Sprints also help out with the next tip…

4. Just get the dang words out on the page

I will be completely honest, it took me a really long time to understand this piece of advice because it felt obvious. Turns out I was wrong! So let me explain!

Your first draft is your worst version of your writing. No one else will see it so give yourself full permission to fuck up.

Write as many ‘he said, she sighed, they did x’ as you want! Write meta jokes for yourself when you can’t remember how much has passed in-universe! Write parts that you’re still on the fence about including! Write bad jokes you’re not sure will land! Write whatever you want!

Then, once you’ve finished writing and you’re onto proofreading, go through your work multiple times and note what you need to change.

Have you used the same word multiple times in this one sentence? Use another one. Do you like this theme that seems to have developed during the writing phase? Go back and include it more. Is this character repeating an action too many times? Find something else they can do that matches the mood.

Your first draft is supposed to be messy and incomplete. The proofreading stage is where you act as your own worse critic and fix any issues you see.

And if there’s still an issue you’re having trouble with while you proofread? Highlight it and come back later. It’s not going anywhere.

By actually focusing on your writing and getting words on the page, you are more likely to stay in the zone and keep writing! You just need to take that first step and start writing.

Hope that helps anon! At the end of the day, writing should be fun, so try to enjoy every step of the writing process, however you can ❤️

[twistedtummies2]

Year of the Bat - Number 18

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In honor of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I’m counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January. TODAY’S EPISODE QUOTE: “Some thought I had gone mad. Others thought I always had been, until they put me where I belonged.” Number 18 is…Dreams in Darkness.

This is the first episode on the list to feature one of Batman’s most revered enemies, the Scarecrow, as the main antagonist. The character had a lot of really fun appearances the show, but in my opinion, this was probably his grandest story of the whole bunch, in terms of sheer scope and scale. The story begins with Batman investigating a break-in at a spa resort, where he finds a high-tech crook tampering with the drinking water supply. In the scuffle, a device the crook was carrying bursts open, and a mysterious gas floods the room. Batman escapes, but as time goes on, he begins to experience horrifying hallucinations, as his greatest fears and paranoias all start to come to life right before his eyes. It doesn’t take long for Batman to realize Scarecrow is behind all this, and he soon realizes time is of the essence, as Scarecrow plans to poison the water supply for the entire city with a special new brand of his patented Fear Toxin. In some ways, this episode is similar to the Scarecrow’s first appearance, “Nothing to Fear.” In that one, he sprays Batman with the Fear Toxin early in the story, and for much of the rest of the episode, the Dark Knight must confront and deal with his greatest fears coming to life. “Dreams in Darkness,” however, goes way further with the idea of Batman battling his worst fears, taking the same basic idea and upping the stakes in a big way. Not only do the visions grow more intense the longer Batman goes untreated – the antidote for this specific blend of the Toxin will render him unconscious for two whole days, and he can’t waste any time – but after one particularly shocking vision causes Bruce to crash the Batmobile, he’s actually locked up in Arkham Asylum. He must now find a way to escape the Asylum and stop Scarecrow’s mad scheme, all while still under the effects of Crane’s newest formula. I love the way this episode builds, and the way it’s structured. The story actually begins with Batman already locked up in the Asylum, and for much of the story, he acts as a Narrator, telling us all about what’s really going on and why. It kind of feels like something out of an old-fashioned radio drama, or – fittingly enough – the way a comic is written, with thought balloons and text boxes indicating the character’s thoughts and motives. I also love the emphasis on the “ticking clock” element in the story, as Batman has to do so much with so little time on his hands. It helps to keep things in suspense, especially as the nightmares Scarecrow’s new toxin creates become more and more wild, imaginative, and downright freaky as the story goes on. The idea of Scarecrow poisoning the whole city, rather than just a select group of people, per the norm, was also a gripping concept; I kind of wonder if “Batman Begins” took a few hints from this story in particular, since the Scarecrow in that film and this episode do bear some similarities, in terms of how they affect Batman and their evil schemes. My only major gripe with this episode is Batman remaining unmasked while in the Asylum. I understand why they did it, of course; for one thing, it’s just a visually captivating concept. For another, it would have been…awkward if Bruce’s identity was revealed to so many people at once, especially in such an unceremonious fashion, and in a place where most of his worst enemies are all incarcerated. They do try to explain away the reason the doctors let him wear the cowl, but…ehhhh, I don’t personally buy it. I guess they had to figure out SOMETHING, though���and hey, if the doctors at Arkham were…you know…WAY better at what they do, Bruce would probably have a MUCH easier night life. :P Despite this nitpick, “Dreams in Darkness” is still a great (and magnificently animated) episode of the series, and easily one of Scarecrow’s personal best as a villain. I highly recommend it.

Tomorrow we move on to Number 17! Hint: “Man or woman, a sick mind is capable of anything.”

[annwhiskers]

Portfolio Project 11 (last)

Deep

The assignment was basically to make a story where two people meet in a way that leaves an impact on both parties in some way.

Translation of my notes:

I definitely want to make a comic, maybe a short animation if I have time (spoiler alert: I didn’t). Or combine it into a moving comic, that a few panels move.

Clashing. Clashing of worlds. Land and ocean.

Land->diver and mermaid->life changes because now they know the other exists->this one has a bigger impact and is more relatable for the reader.

Ocean->deep and shallow->shallow merfolk learns deep folk are very different, that the deep is a completely different world->I like this one more, to show that even with tin the ocean itself, there are completely different worlds.

The ocean is terrifying, but also fascinating. How different it all can be. Most people, when thinking of the sea, they think of tropical coral reefs or open ocean, but there’s so much more than that. Forests, mountains, ravines.

Story

I’d played with this idea before. A young merfolk from the shallow sea who meets a huge deep sea merfolk for the first time.

The merboy gets pulled along a current and ends up hundreds of meters deep. The folk from the deep sea finds him and takes him back up.

The life of the boy changed because now he knows folk that big exist, and that there’s a whole different world so nearby, only a few hundred meters away.

The life of the big one changed because he goes to the shallows for the first time, but this story is mostly about the kid.

I want to exaggerate the size difference, that the kid fits into the big one’s hands.

Bo

A bit big for a little kid. Arms to long, tail too long.

Gils where humans have lungs.

Also has a nose and smaller lungs.

Kinda looks like he’s dancing (not important)

He lives in a kelp forest, so he has green and brown colours as camouflage.

Two sets of canine teeth to eat tougher food.

Varan

Bigger fins

Very big. Even bigger difference because the other is a child. "Deep sea gigantism"

In relation, longer tail

Fins a bit different to differentiate more

Bioluminescent in the dark

Non-human colours, he rarely sees sunlight

Red, because a lot of deep sea fish can’t see red

I did the rest of the character work digitally. This is Bo, the small one, with some expressions.

I experimented with how it would look if the characters didn’t have line art. I don’t think it looks bad, but I don’t like working that way. So, I gave up on that. The backgrounds are lineless. This way, the characters jump out more and the backgrounds becomes a bit abstract.

This is Varan, the big one. Also with some expressions, even though you only see his face a couple of times in the comic.

I also made a version of him with his bioluminescence.

Environment

I think kelp forests are gorgeous, not a lot of people think it them when thinking of the sea. Maybe because it’s in colder waters, so it isn’t as comfortable to dive.

When I started developing this world, years ago, I chose a kelp forest as the primary location because it isn’t used a lot and it seemed like a fun environment to draw (which I now know very much depends on how complicated you make it for yourself. The way I did the kelp in this project was quick and easy but I recently made an illustration where the kelp took me hours). I can also work in quite an abstract way with kelp, since it doesn’t have a super clear shape.

It’s difficult to find good pictures of the deep sea, largely because there isn’t much to see in the deep darkness. So, I mostly searched for pictures of underwater cliffs. They look cool but also a little scary. I think the ocean is beautiful and fascinating, but also scary. (Pretty sure I’ve said this before in this very project, but we’re moving on). I appreciate it from a distance.

When I searched for ‘underwater looking down’, I immediately felt a short, quick fight-or-flight reaction looking at the results.

This page is in English for some reason, so you can read it.

I’d given the first page painted shading. When I was working on page 2, I liked the flat colours better. I thought it was clearer to see what was what and that the parts blended together less.

Test

I showed the pages to some friends and asked if they understood the story. I got the same answers, that the small one gets pulled down and the big one helps him up. And that’s correct, so that part was a success.

One person said that they don’t understand what the purple thing on the first page is. It’s a sea urchin skeleton, but you’d have to know what that looks like to get that. So, I added some alive urchins to hopefully make it clearer.

[xiv-wolfram]

The Horrors of War - Comic Script

Stormblood - lvl 65

Raubahn weighs the consequences of his decisions when a friend is badly wounded.

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number. A/B mean a frame is split.

A landscape shot of Rhalgr's Reach, focused on the chirugen’s area pivoted towards the waterfall. Narrator - "A group of Resistance fighters and Flames was attacked by the Garleans. After checking on the survivors General Raubahn calls his friend and former partner Wolfram as the Warrior of Light is preparing for the Nadam.”

Rau pacing near the waterfall, worried - "-so the squadron didn't stand a chance. We lost a dozen. It's a miracle he survived. Perhaps his size was an advantage… Anyroad he's unconscious and they say he may not wake."

Wolf in a tent in the Steppes, worried - "I'm so sorry about your friend Rau. I certainly hope he'll recover …Yet please do not blame yourself. We all signed up for this revolution." Thought - ‘I’d wager he’s beating himself up about it…’

Rau annoyed, growls - "You don't know what it's like. You can speak to me of revolution as this grand idea. Hells, I even bought into it - but you weren't a soldier. You don't understand what it's like. You don't understand war. I do - so all of this is on me. I knew better and went along with it anyroad because I wanted to see our homeland free. All of their blood is on my hands. "

Wolf worried - "You're right Rau, I’m sorry. I'm not a soldier. I don't have the experience you do and I'm sorry if I ever made light of what’s at stake. You know that sometimes I feel uncomfortable when things are serious and I may not give the situation the gravitas it deserves. I'm so sorry for the way I am. I wish I were different. I really do."

Wolf smiles sadly - "However, I do know what it's like to have people you care about suffer for a cause. It's horrible. And it's even worse when it's *your* cause. In your name even. Do you know what helps me through it? Putting the blame where it truly belongs. Something you taught me many years ago... Well in this case the blame belongs with the Garleans and no one else."

Rau worried. Thought - ‘That was much more harsh than I’d intended…’. Say - "Wolf he's so young. And his kind lives much longer than us. He could have had a comfortable life in Ul'dah…instead, he wanted to come to fight with his friends …I believe a part of him wanted to support me. How is that not my fault?"

Wolf surprised - "Oh! I see…" Thought - "Not simply a friend… perhaps a lover? No wonder he's so broken up about it. Large and lives longer than Hyur…Bran?! Godsdamnit I always liked him. Poor lad. In that case, I know just how he feels."

Wolf smiles sadly - "I had a similar loss not long ago…she sacrificed herself for our mission. Far too young for her fate. She was there to help me as well. It’s an awful thing to experience and I'm so sorry this happened." Thought - ‘If I’d known Ysayle’s age I’d never have… And she deserved so much better. Thrice damn that crystal.’

Rau voice over linkpearl - "What did you do?" Wolf worried, dark thought - "You won't actually tell him. You know how he'll react. Just as he did last time. He doesn't want to know this side of you."

Wolf worried, sighs. Thought - 'No, the days of hiding anything from him are behind me.' Says - "I…well first I had one of my episodes. I cried but managed to calm myself and then…"

Wolf looks determined - "I fought my way through a landscape of Allagan monstrosities. I butchered an entire ship of Garleans. Cut through them like they were nothing. It mattered not if they were laying down their arms and begging for mercy. I ended them all. Then I defeated two Ascians… took my time with Lahabrea. Figured I might as well get revenge for Thancred too. I lashed out with a rage I didn't know myself capable of. I hadn't felt anything like that…other than the night you were captured. I'm grateful Pipin stopped me back then before I acted - now that I know what I’m capable of."

Wolf embarrassed - "By the end, I'd burned through so much of my own aether that I passed out and was unconscious for a week. To put it simply…I could have died because I didn't know where to put all of that hurt and blame so - I put it on myself…for my own naivete. I let it consume me. It was the first and last time. I refuse to give into my guilt like that ever again."

A) Rau surprised - "Oh…"  B) Wolf worried - "Is…that all?" Dark Thought - "Told you. He's horrified at what you allowed yourself to become, he-'

A) Rau worried. Thought - ‘That couldn’t have been easy for him to admit to…’ B) Rau ponders - "Good." 

A) Wolf shocked - "Good?! Rau, that's the opposite of what I'm trying to say!" B) Rau smirks - "No, not what you did to your Aether. Good that you got revenge for her. Did you feel better after?" Thought - 'Also…incredibly impressive.'

Wolf smiles uncomfortably - "Oh…I know I'm supposed to say I felt horrible and regret it, but honestly - yes. I felt a bit better. I don't feel any guilt for what I did to them." Dark Thought - 'You should though…and for keeping me locked up the whole time. I didn't get to join in the fun.'

Rau smiles sadly - "Thank you, Wolf. I'm sure that wasn't easy to tell me given my reaction in the past. Just know that I have changed as well. After Nanamo…at the banquet…I now know what it is to be consumed by anger and believe I understand you better for it."

Rau smiles warmly - "Thank you for letting me vent to you. I always appreciate our conversations. You've helped me regain my resolve. I won't let myself be consumed by guilt or let it cloud my judgment. This cause is worth more than anything. Even if it claims my own life I will see our homeland free."

Wolf concerned - "I'm glad my words helped you. And I thank you for your understanding. I'll do everything in my power to free Ala Mhigo…But Rau…"

Wolf closes eyes, blushing and smiling awkwardly - "Don't even consider sacrificing yourself. Your life is worth more than all of Ala Mhigo. All of Gyr Abania. All of Eorzea. There is no cause on this whole bloody star worth losing you for. Not a one."

Rau blushes, surprised - "Um.. Wolf I…uh…"

Ciri walks into the tent, addressing Wolf - "It's time." (Zoomed out shot.)

A) Wolf looks serious - "I have to go. I'll talk to you later." B) Rau confused, blushing (linkshell click) "The whole star?! Surely he wouldn’t say something like that to just any friend..."

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Diansakhu Banton-Perry

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Diansakhu Banton-Perry and their new comic for ShortBox, Bug In My System

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Diansakhu Banton-Perry: Hi, my name is Diansakhu Banton-Perry. I’m a character designer, illustrator and comic artist! I graduated from VCU in 2019, and my experience in college is where I had a real start with making comics. I joined a comic anthology club, where I made short comics and edited other students’ comics, and took as many comic classes as I could till graduation!

Tell us more about your new comic?

DB: This comic is called Bug In My System and it is a short sci-fi story about a highschool girl and her crush! It’s about 25 pages, and in black and white. It has a bit of uneasy energy to it, but sharing more would probably spoil it! 

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

DB: I think my process is usually pretty standard. I have ideas on Google Docs with different stories in different stages of completion. For this comic, it was an idea I had from a while ago. I always go for sci-fi fantasy stories first, and started to work through it with different comic friends since the summer of last year.  It was pretty developed by the time I started thumbnailing it out. But, as I was writing the script, I realized it was going to be too long (like over 40 pages). I wanted to keep it under 30 pages so that I could keep the pacing how I wanted, not get too carried away with story details (more characters , extra context, stuff like that) and actually physically finish drawing everything on time. So, that part took way longer than I hoped, so I ended up going from thumbs straight to inks! I don’t recommend doing that, but my thumbnails are usually pretty clear so it didn’t hinder my ability to finish the comic, but it did slow down my inking process. By the end I wasn’t able to tone the comic, which stressed me out. But the story and mood came through because of the inking style I used. I needed to not look at my comic for a while after I submitted it. But, nowadays there’s a little less stress when I look at it.

What were some challenges you faced with this comic and how did you overcome them?

DB: My biggest challenges were definitely my time management and the story development! With this comic, I got very stuck on the ‘how did we get here’ part. I knew what the conclusion would be, and the climax, but the beginning was killing me. I wanted adequate time for character development, and I got a bit carried away with how to make that happen without making the comic much longer. In the end I needed to cut out parts of the story, but it took me way too long to get that conclusion. What really helped me sort of balance everything out was talking things out with friends! Critique is crucial! Also sticking to my schedule for each part of the process. I know for the future for making my own stories, that I need to give myself adequate time in the development stage. The less I need to think the better!

Do you have any creative rituals or routines to prepare yourself to make comics?

DB: Most comic artists probably do this too, but I love drawing out my characters first. Sometimes before I even have a story. They are usually the inspiration. If I don’t have character inspo first, then I’ll make a big reference sheet, and sketch out characters from there. For this comic I sketched four or five pages of the main characters so I could get  used to drawing them, and get a good feeling on how they’d interact.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[youngestrunningleek]

The Tale of One Bad Rat

Content warning: this book covers familial sexual abuse, suicidal ideation, and homelessness. The review will get into that. I know the previous book also did, but I promise it won't be a pattern.

The Tale of One Bad Rat, by Bryan Talbot

This is a comic written in 1994. It begins in London and follows a homeless girl named Helen as she heals from abuse.

I am going to get into detail about the story. The actual plot doesn’t have many “spoilers”, but I’ll undress a lot of the emotional moments.

I saw the title at a library, and I took a closer look. Haha, I love rats, so funny… Then the back cover had these reviews about the importance of addressing child abuse, and I realized it was a serious book. I think the book handles Helen’s situation very well. It’s not an easy read, but it’s sympathetic and it shines light on something that people rarely want to talk about.

Something silly about me is that I often get annoyed by book titles with animals. Take Dinosaurs, by Lydia Millet. I get interested, only to read the back cover and see it’s not literally about dinosaurs.

This book was not like that. Helen has a pet rat, she admires them and shares facts about rats, and rats are generally a theme throughout the book. Surprise surprise, she’s the One Bad Rat the story is talking about. She’s unwanted by society and shunned.

I thought she was a boy at first, just based off the cover. I realize that’s intentional— she deliberately has short hair because she doesn’t want to be seen as a young woman alone in the world.

I think that also reflects the representation of homelessness. It was easier for me to imagine a solo homeless boy than a solo homeless girl.

I admire that the book shows Helen’s hair growing longer. I personally just appreciate when media shows characters change over time, but it’s also a good metaphor for her healing. When she’s safe, she is free to grow it out more.

The book used the medium of comics very well. At several points, Helen has intrusive thoughts, like jumping off a bridge. The panels don’t change or anything. You see her do it, then, there’s another panel and you realize she was just envisioning doing that. It felt very similar to my experience. You’re in that current without even realizing it’s happening, and then you jerk back to reality.

Something bittersweet about this book is the kindness Helen receives. She deserves it. She’s taken in by some older kids. I think it’s a little funny how she agrees to pretend she’s sleeping with a boy, so he won't get bullied by the others. It’s very utilitarian. They’re both getting what they need from the relationship. She later finds an older couple to live with, and who doesn’t love found family? It’s very, very sweet. But it's bittersweet because I know so many people don’t have that support.

The healing is really, really amazing. I wrote in my notes that reading this book felt like unclenching a painfully tight muscle. It hurts, but the release and healing is very powerful.

The afterword really made me appreciate this book. In my edition, Talbot talked about his process making the book, and the reception since it was first published. He originally wanted to write a story about the Lake District in the UK. He basically had the protagonist fleeing parental abuse as an excuse to tell the story. 

Then, after doing more research, he realized he had to fully address that. It became more central. He says it much better than I can, but the general point is that abuse is far more common than we think. People don’t want to talk about it, but talking about it is the only way we’re going to make things better.

I strongly encourage people to read the afterword here.

Note on language: I know there are many terms to use for unhoused people. I say “homeless” in this review because 1. It’s commonly understood and 2. Helen’s journey is just as much about finding an emotional home as it is finding a roof over her head.

My rating: 4.5

Overall rating: 4.5

[moduloxii]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 !                

knowing  your  writing  partners  can  make  writing  together  a  lot  easier .  repost ,  DON’T reblog .

NAME: Meluna

PRONOUNS:  Strictly HE/HIM !

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord! Tumblr IMs are trash but I'd rather those for non mutuals adfhjk

NAME OF MUSE(S):  Toshi Ukuwa (OC), Minamimoto Shou and Sakuraba Neku! May pick up some more along the way, but we'll see!

EXPERIENCE / HOW LONG: I've been on tumblr since 2014ish? I took a break from tumblr RP from 2021 to 2023 and was only RPing on discord but... I decided to come back because I wanted to make new friends!

BEST EXPERIENCE: Being able to explore characters thoroughly and making friends along the way!

RP PET PEEVES:  I'm honestly not too fussy? I tend to adapt to my partner's writing so I might write differently with different people... The only thing I cannot respond to is like, script style. It's too boring for me LOL. I like having things to work with!

MUSE PREFERENCES FOR ANGST / FLUFF / SMUT: 

Angst: They did actually called me Sadist King in a fandom once because I had the reputation of making people cry with my angst comics... TLDR: love it but especially if there's a good payoff bc angst for the sake of angst is kinda eh

Fluff: Cuddly snuggles and kisses? Aww hell yeah, but only when it's earned. General wholesome threads? Yum yum.

Smut: I can write smut but absolutely not here LOL I have to have a lot of trust in someone to be able to write smut with them. If for some reason our muses are super compatible and reach that point and you do wanna write some spices, I do implore you ask we write in like idk discord or something.

PLOTS OR MEMES: I love both! I think because I'm stepping into a space with a lot of veterans, plotting is particularly important... I do love the unpredictableness of memes though. If I plot too much (from start to middle to end), I admittedly lose interest. Usually just plotting a little at the start and letting the muses go wild is my preferred way to go! Makes it fun. Sometimes muses don't like going by the script anyways.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: These days I don't really care as long as I have something to work with. Because RP is collaborative writing, I personally try my best to give my partner something to work with while also pushing the story along. But all in all, I guess I prefer longer? Single sentences (if not deliberate for impact or wtv) can get me pretty stuck.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I am super sporadic but I'm usually around at night time JST. Like, 7pm - 5am because *laughs in gay vampire*

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE:  If we're talking Mr Minamans? GOD no, he is too much of a genius. Me? I am a himbo. So himbo that I got gaslit into marrying a third anime husband. As for Ukuwa, I like to think I am not THAT mean...! He certainly does share my traits of like workaholicism and functioning off of guilt though. I also gave him all of my CPTSD but he's more of an attack than fawn like me.

tagged: haha i stole it   tagging: Feel free to yoink this from me!

[bit-dodgy-innit]

The Shape of You

Summary: Steven loves your boobs. A story of his devotion to them pre, during, and post-pregnancy as you welcome your first child together.

Pairing: Steven x afab!Reader, with some minor Marc x afab!Reader and Jake x afab!Reader. Reader is married to the system and all three alters are no longer working for Khonshu 

Rating: Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 9.4k (yes, you read that correctly 😳)

TW/CW: Heavy breast and nipple play, lactation kink, some awkwardness and embarrassment around Steven and Reader discovering they share a lactation kink, pregnant sex, breeding kink, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, daddy!Steven (in both senses of the term 😜), breastfeeding and angst about struggling to breastfeed, postpartum hormones, sundress!kink (that’s a thing, right?), public teasing, a smidge of masturbation, public bathroom sex…so exhibitionism? (no one hears or catches them), more fluff than I’ve ever written iN MY LIFE, titty-fucking, come-eating…writing these always make me feel like a dirty ho 😈

A/N: Sorry friends, the OP got flagged...so let’s try this again with a slightly less steamy gif! 

First time writing in second person so please, like Adele, go eaaaaasy on me :) Also I do not have DID, so please forgive and Feel free to educate me if I didn’t nail any dynamics. One more thing - Jake speaks Spanish a bit in this translations will be below

Marc, Steven, and Jake may’ve shared a body, but each alter had a different part of yours that was their favorite. Jake was an ass man, plain and simple. He loved smacking it, biting it, grinding himself between your cheeks…the list could go on. Marc loved your mouth. He never wasted an opportunity for you to suck him off, to feed you every last drop of his cum, to spit into its warm, wet cavern. 

Steven, on the other hand, was damn-near obsessed with your breasts. If it were up to him, his hands would never leave your chest. He’d been shy at first, bashful, citing his relative inexperience compared to the other alters. But the endearingly awkward bumbling phase of your relationship soon developed into its current one: The Steven-Can’t-Stop-Won’t-Stop-Playing-With-Your-Tits Phase.

You remember the first time he undressed you and got to see your boobs in all their naked glory. The expression on his face was so reverent it was almost comical. He looked at you as if you’d taken him straight to the Field of Reeds. 

“Bloody hell,” he’d whispered. 

You asked him if he was alright, to which he nodded frantically and asked, “Can I…can I touch?” 

“Of course baby,” you cooed. 

From there it was off to the races. Steven cupped your breasts, damn near whimpering when he felt the weight of them in your hands, and gave you a gentle squeeze. You mewled, and his gaze snapped up to meet yours. 

“That was a good sound, I promise,” you assured him. “Please, Steven, more.” 

He was all too glad to oblige. He massaged each mound in his hand and swiped each thumb over your nipple, delighting when you shuddered at his ministrations. It emboldened him to experiment further. Steven dropped a kiss between your breasts on your sternum, then tilted his head to mouth at one of them. You urged him on with a breathy cry, and Steven took the signal to suck on your nipple. 

Whereas most past lovers of yours had treated your tits as a fun but brief pitstop on the way to your pussy, Steven lavished ample delicious attention on them. And he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did, if the way he was frantically humping the mattress for relief was any indication. 

Later, after he’d fingered you to orgasm with a nipple in his mouth and you’d rode him like your life depended on it, Steven murmured to you, “Blimey babe, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your tits.” 

***

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you got pregnant that Steven became even more fascinated with your breasts. They kept growing, almost vulgarly large, and you’d caught your husband flat-out staring at them many a time . 

“My eyes are up here, honey,” you’d tease him. 

Steven snapped out of it and apologized, “Sorry, love.” 

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you conceded, looking down at your chest, using the insides of your arms to push your breasts together. “Even I can't believe how big they’ve gotten. The baby will be well-fed I guess.” 

Steven watched you entranced, his mouth ajar, a bulge in his pants growing. “Uh huh.” 

Sex was starting to get tricky as you entered your third trimester, but that didn’t stop Steven from fucking you on your side shortly after your little display. He lay behind you on the bed as he drove his painfully hard dick into your cunt, both of his hands on your tits. You rubbed your clit furiously as he alternated between squeezing them and tugging on your taut peaks. 

“Ohhhh, Steven, yesssss,” you moaned. 

“Are you close darling?” his lips were centimeters from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on its shell. 

“Mmmhmmm,” you whined. 

Steven picked up the pace and force of his hips. “Come then love, come for me. Gonna come too, your big titties get me so hard, you feel it, don’t you? So good at taking my cock and growing our baby inside you. Fuck love, yeah.” 

That surprised you. Dirty talk was usually a Marc or Jake thing, but you definitely weren’t going to stop Steven as his filthy words hurdled you toward your climax. 

“Your boobs are so big, gods, I wonder if they’ll get any bigger? Want ‘em to,” Steven was babbling, his thrusts lost their rhythm. “They’ll spill out of your shirt. Gonna have so much milk–” 

You interrupted him with a strangled shriek as your release consumed you. Your pussy spasmed delectably around your lover’s cock, compounded by Steven’s dick pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. You were so lost in the euphoria, the relief of your orgasm, that you didn’t notice the few drops of fluid that had dribbled out of your left nipple. 

It wasn’t until Steven withdrew his spent cock from you and rolled over to snuggle into his side that you noticed him examining his wet fingertips. 

“What’s that?”

Steven tensed. “It’s…um, not sure how to put this…I think you leaked a little.” 

“Obviously,” you giggled, “The sheets are soaked.” 

His cheeks burned. “Not from there, love.” 

Mortified, your hands flew to your engorged breasts. You could feel it too. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure it’s normal,” Steven tried to assuage you. 

You didn’t answer him, instead, you maneuvered your very pregnant self up and waddled towards the bathroom. 

He followed you, not needing to exert much effort to stop you. He captured your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a bloody miracle, growing our baby inside of you.” 

Steven’s tender words and touch allowed you to deflate some, yet you withdrew your hands from his grasp. “Thank you honey, it’s just…a lot to reckon with. I need a moment to catch my breath in the bathroom. Alone.” 

“Alright love, take your time and I’ll put the kettle on.” 

You kissed him softly, languidly, trying to pour all the love you couldn’t put into words into the liplock. 

But in the privacy of the bathroom, you crumpled. You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. Because why on earth did it feel so good to have liquid trickle out of your boobs and to come at the thought of how much milk they contained? 

Nevertheless, you splashed water on your face and composed yourself, joining Steven on the couch for a cup of tea and an episode of the latest documentary series you were watching together. 

What didn’t you know though, was later that night, long after you went to sleep and Steven had stayed up working on next semester’s syllabus for the course he now taught at UCL, your breasts had leaked again. 

Steven had noticed when he’d called it a night and was situating himself next to you in bed. The t-shirt you wore one to bed, one of the only things that still fit you, and now had twin dark spots staining the loose cotton.  

He didn’t know what to do. Steven didn’t want to wake you, he knew how the discovery would likely upset you again, nor did he want you to awaken and to have soaked through your shirt. He cursed his cock, which had twitched at the previous thought. He tried to ignore the arousal beginning to surge through him, but your tits made his blood rush south. 

The best course of action, Steven (and his dick) had decided, was to take care of it for you. He fetched a wet cloth from the bathroom, then pulled the already stretched out v-neckline of the shirt to reveal one of your tits. Steven gently cleaned the peak of your breast, the warm, damp feel of the cloth making you shudder in your sleep, though not enough to wake you. He switched to the other one, and found a small, perfect pearl of milk right on the tip of your nipple.

Steven didn’t know what possessed him - he certainly couldn’t blame this on his alters - but he swooped down and lapped up the milk with his tongue instead of the cloth. The drop was small, which meant Steven couldn’t taste much when he licked your nipple. So he sealed his lips around the bud in hope of getting a taste of the cloudy milk. Before he could, you rolled from your back onto your side. 

Your husband knew he’d have to call it a night, but that didn’t stop him from shuffling to the bathroom and rubbing one out, imagining what you’d taste like. 

*** 

Any thoughts of sex flew out the window when Nyla was born. All of your husbands had been co-conscious for the birth, the four of you equally in awe of what your love had created.

You loved your squirmy, wrinkly little girl more than you could comprehend, but the first weeks after bringing her home were rough. Nyla was a few weeks early, so your parents hadn't made it to London yet. There was no sleep. There were a lot of attempts at sleep training, but not a lot of sleep actually happening between you, your husband, and your daughter. 

Furthermore, Nyla had problems latching when you fed her. You tried to stay calm, telling yourself that plenty of women went through this with their babies, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d already failed as a mom. Plus, the wildly fluctuating hormones didn’t exactly help you keep your cool either. 

Steven, however, was a godsend. He never hesitated when he heard Nyla fussing over the baby monitor, he always had a backup bottle ready to go, he even sang silly songs to your daughter while he changed her. Marc and Jake adored Nyla too, yet you’d noticed that Steven had been fronting the most as of late. 

You suspected it wasn’t that they didn’t care for the baby, more that they didn’t trust themselves around a being so small and fragile. The thought broke your heart. You wanted to talk to them more about it…when you had the energy. Which, currently, you guessed would be somewhere around Nyla’s 18th birthday? 

Tonight, you’d actually had gotten Nyla to go down at 8:30. You and Steven silently rejoiced while getting ready for bed as quickly as humanly possible. The two of you had already learned to sleep when the baby slept.  

It felt as if you’d only laid your head on a pillow for a second when you’d heard Nyla crying through the monitor. 

Steven sprung up before you could. “I’ve got it. Keep sleeping.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were just starting to doze off again when Steven re-emerged with a wriggling, still upset Nyla. 

“She must be hungry,” he explained apologetically. “Her diaper wasn’t wet and I tried rocking her for a little.” 

You nodded in surrender, reaching under your shirt to unclasp a cup of your nursing bra, then extended your arms for Nyla. 

Steven carefully placed her in your hold, then announced “I’ll get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“I’m not thirsty right now,” you told him as you tried to get Nyla to latch. Steven was already retreating from the bed. 

“Just in case,” he called from the kitchen. 

You let it go, focusing more on Nyla than the observation you’d made that as doting as Steven had been, he was rarely present for when you breastfed. It could’ve been because your sweet husband didn’t want to add any eyes and pressure given your difficulties with it, but you couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion it made him uncomfortable. 

Nyla wasn’t latching. Again. When Steven returned, he only needed to take one look at your face to see what the problem was. 

“I’ll get a bottle.” 

Your face crumpled, unable to hold back the tears, which of course, caused Nyla to cry as well. 

Steven rushed back in, and scooped your daughter out of your arms. 

“There there, little dove, you’re alright,” he shushed Nyla, expertly feeding her the bottle. 

“You’re better at nursing her than I am,” you lamented. 

“That’s not true, you fed her perfectly for nearly nine months” Steven objected. “We’ll call the specialist Doctor Slater recommended first thing tomorrow.” 

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Sorry, it’s all these goddamn hormones.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he told you, moving to burp Nyla. “You did the hard bit, now let us all help out how we can.” 

“Alright,” you sniffled. 

Steven rose to take Nyla back to her bassinet, kissing you the top of your head on his route. 

You wanted to settle down, you did. You wanted nothing more than to surrender to blissful slumber but a fresh wave of tears came when your breasts began to ache. 

Steven came back and his face fell. “What is it, love?”

“They hurt,” you bemoaned. “They’re too full. It feels like my body’s punishing me for not feeding Nyla.”

“Oh darling,” Steven scrambled for his phone on his nightstand. “There’s gotta be a fix for it, yeah? I’m going to see what Google says.” 

You passed Steven his reading glasses so he could see, privately reveling in how cute he was as he studied his phone screen so intently. It helped distract you from the soreness in your chest. 

“Well, it says the best thing to do is to ‘manually express’ any excess fluid,” Steven read. 

“So milk me? Like a cow?” you spat. 

Steven put his phone down so he could give you his undivided attention. “Hey, hey, I won’t have you talking about yourself like that. Especially since I have Nyla beat at the moment for being the biggest fan of your tits.” 

You cracked a smile. Steven crawled closer to you on the bed, “I know tonight’s been a bit full on, but truly babe, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel better.” 

“Oh yeah?” you goaded, watching Steven’s gaze zero in on your still exposed breast. 

“Uh huh,” he grunted, then looked up at you. “To be honest…you remember that night a few months ago when you first–”

The night you first leaked.  “Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve erm, I’ve been curious since then about…about your…tasting you.”

“Oh,” you gasped. That explained his skittishness when you fed Nyla. Steven left because it made him horny. Well, that turned you on rather quickly. Postpartum hormones were a trip. 

Steven gently cupped your engorged breasts, then groaned. “Will you let me try?”

“Oh-okay.” You batted his hands away so could you strip off your very unsexy sleep shirt and shed your bra. 

While you were self-conscious about how the milk stretched the skin of your breasts and puffed out your nipples, Steven looked at them like a kid on Christmas morning. 

He spared one more glance at your face, “Just tell me if it’s too much or anything.”

You consented with a nod and then Steven lowered his mouth to your left nipple. He started by tracing his tongue around your areola, warming you up to his touch, then enclosed his mouth around it. You mewled as he began to suck on your teat, the feeling of liquid being pulled out of you foreign and therefore thrilling in this context. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the sensation of Steven steadily sucking at you was overwhelming. 

Soon the novelty and lingering sheepishness melted into sheer relief as Steven suckled at your tit. You blinked your eyes open, nearly needing to close them again at the sight of your husband resolutely drinking from you. It sent another shiver of arousal down your spine. 

“Feels so good sweetie,” you encouraged him. “Are you–ah! How are you doing?”

In lieu of answering, Steven guided one of your hands to his crotch where you could feel his pulsing length. He was enjoying this too. Good. You gave him a squeeze, which incited a groan that you felt against the oversensitive skin of your weeping nipple. 

Steven used his free hand to pluck at your right peak, gently coaxing milk out with his fingers. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both your heavy breasts being drained. Keeping your hand molded around your husband’s crotch, you buried the other in the dark curls at the back of his head. 

Steven’s enthusiasm gave you the confidence to ask, “Do you like how it tastes?”

His mouth still around you, he nodded. At last, he pulled off and mumbled, “Why weren’t we doing this sooner?”

A winded chuckle escaped you as Steven massaged your chest. “Might have had something to do with the newborn.” 

“Clearly there’s enough to go around,” he remarked before he turned your attention to your other breast, latching on to your already leaking nipple and going to town once again. 

You stuttered out a breathy shriek, instantly worried that it’d wake Nyla. Luck was on your side however, the monitor remained silent. You resumed groping Steven’s dick through his pajama pants, letting the fabric catch on the wet stain his cockhead had created. 

Steven moaned at the stimulation and switched to flicking his tongue over your nipples, causing you to tamp down on another yell. 

“Ohhhh fuck,” he rapsed, pulling off your breast, “I’m gonna come.” 

Steven began humping your hand frantically while he gathered both your tits in his hands and swiftly alternated licking at each nipples. You mewled at the feather-light shifting touch on your puffy peaks, now hardened into points for a good while now. 

“Yeah, that’s it, come baby,” you urged him. 

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Steven’s cock spurt, soaking his sleepwear and your hand with his seed with a whimper. His head was thrown back, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, and it was in moments like these you understood how your husband and his alters could’ve been avatars for an Egyptian god, because Steven looked absolutely divine. 

Once he came down from high, you withdrew your hand, expecting Steven to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and clean himself up. Instead, he shucked off his pants, and went right back to lapping at your breasts, mopping up the milk that had spilled from you as he came. 

“Sweetie,” you panted, “you don’t need to–”

“You haven’t come yet,” he whispered from the valley of your tits. He nuzzled the two mounds briefly then reclaimed a nipple between his lips and resumed his feverish suckling. 

“Nnnnngh, Steven,” came your delirious reply. 

He pulled off for a split-second to ask, “Can I touch you?” 

You were still a few weeks out from being able to have penetrative sex again, but you gave Steven the go ahead to slither his hand down to your clit. 

Another cry loud enough to wake Nyla ripped from you when his fingers meet your neglected bundle of nerves. You were wet enough to flood the Thames, and Steven wasted no time stroking you exactly how you liked it. Fuck, if Steven sucking on your peaks and playing with your tits felt good, him doing that and rubbing your clit was rapturous. 

You began moaning, a tell-tale whine in the back of your throat that meant you were close. Steven switched teats and redoubled his efforts – your orgasm building to its zenith...then snapping and drowning you in pleasure. One last sob escaped you as your release spread through your body, Steven never detaching himself from your breast until you gently pushed him away from oversensitivity. 

You both laid with your backs flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in sexed out wonder. 

Steven spoke first. “No need to call the lactation specialist, I reckon.”

“Steven!” You exclaimed in a whisper, playfully slapping his arm. 

“That fixed it, didn’t it?” he pointed out. “Your tits feel better?” 

“Well yeah,” you admitted, “but I still want to breastfeed our daughter. You read all the books and journals along with me, I don’t want to deprive her of its benefits.” 

Steven hummed in defeated agreement. You rolled over on your side to caress his face and assure him, “That doesn’t mean you can’t still get your fill.” 

Your husband’s face split into a wide smile and he pulled you into a dirty, open-mouthed kiss. It allowed you to taste traces of yourself and your milk’s mild, nutty flavor as you plundered his mouth with your tongue.

Steven cradled you to him, tucking you into his side and the pair of you drifted into the best night’s sleep you’d both gotten since Nyla was born. 

When you awoke the next morning, your husband was spooned against your back. 

“Mmm, we’re naked,” Marc murmured. 

You turned to face him and with a grin, “Fancy seeing you here.” You planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi, honey.” 

“Hi, mama,” Marc shifted and groaned, “Any reason why I feel weirdly full this morning?”

You blushed. “Well, Nyla isn’t latching still–”

“Still?”

“Still,” you confirmed, “so Steven relieved some of the…buildup I was feeling. With his mouth.” 

Marc grumbled, “Just when I thought he couldn't be more fixated on your tits.”

Nyla made her presence known on the monitor before you could say anything else. Marc sat up, but you put a hand on his bare pecs. “I’ll get her. You start on breakfast please?”

He acquiesced with a kiss to your temple. 

Marc was in the midst of scrambling eggs and frying sausages when you brought Nyla into the kitchen, “Look who’s changed and dressed and happy to see Daddy!”

Marc beamed, rinsing his hands quickly before you passed her to him. “Hey little girl, I’ve missed you.” 

You took over at the stove as Marc walked his daughter over to the couch. He sat down and rested Nyla’s back on the thick, sturdy expanse of the tops of his thighs. 

“Now, Miss Nyla Spector, I hear that you’re not letting Mommy feed you,” he began with mock seriousness. “Don’t you know her huge boobs are a gift from Tawaret herself?” 

“Marc!!” 

***

Things slowly improved after you began seeing Pippa, the lactation specialist your obstetrician had recommended. Nyla now latched the majority of the time and you learned how to keep calm when she didn’t.

Your parents arrived in London too, which also made the care of your newborn a lot more manageable. They did diaper runs whenever you needed, helped with cooking so you and your husband stayed fed, and would watch Nyla so you each could take showers longer than 30 seconds, even nap. 

The only drawback was it made you and Steven having what you’d codenamed “Parental Time” a lot trickier. They’d gotten an AirBnb flat around the corner from yours, and your mom especially had a pesky penchant for dropping in unannounced, resulting in a few very close calls of her catching Steven’s head under your shirt. 

So you and Steven developed a new routine. On the days he was fronting, after your parents went back to their rented flat for the night, you’d feed Nyla one last time, put her down and then Steven would get his turn at your tits. 

To be honest, it happened a lot when Marc and Jake had fronted that day too. Your parents knew about your husband’s DID and had met each alter, but the men tried not to switch in front of them. They figured their in-laws being so accepting of their daughter being married to three men was already enough of an ask that they didn’t want to alienate your parents further. Therefore, if Jake was fronting when they came over in the morning, he’d have possession of the body for the rest of the day, or at least until your parents left. 

This was a blessing in disguise you found, since it evened out the time each alter spent with their daughter. All that being said, you didn’t exactly protest when Steven would force a switch late at night to get his mouth on your breasts when you were feeling particularly swollen.

“What is it, cariño?” Jake asked when you padded over to the bed after you tucked Nyla in for the night.

“It’s my boobs,” you told him, trying to massage the ache out of them. “Nyla didn’t eat a ton today so they’re feeling extra hea–”

Jake’s quizzical expression changed into Steven’s unmistakably hungry gaze. “Then come right over here love,” he beckoned you over to the mattress. “And let Daddy help you.” 

His naughty words made you whimper and obey him at once. You sat on his lap, where you could already feel his erection growing against your dampening core, and lifted your arms so Steven could disrobe you.

“Missed these titties,” he growled, motorboating his prominent nose in between them. 

“They missed you,” you sighed back as he wrapped his lips around a nipple and began suckling. 

And what are we, chop liver? A disgruntled Marc asked from their bedroom window.

Jake chimed in from the standing mirror. It was my day to front, pendejo.

I’m the only one who wants to do this, Steven countered in his head since his mouth was full of milk, See how much she enjoys it? 

As if to prove his point, you ground down on Steven’s stiff length and squealed at the combination of his thick, hard cock against your pussy and the steady tug of your milk flowing into his wanting mouth. 

“Wanna ride you,” you told Steven. “Need that big dick inside me.” 

Steven groaned and his hips bucked against you. “You sure you’re feeling up to it, babe?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed feverishly. “Doctor Slater said it was okay.” 

Your husband didn’t need to be told twice. He all but ripped off both of your clothes and flipped you back on the bed to prepare you. He slowly fed one, then two fingers into your pussy while he lapped at your dripping tits. After Steven worked you through your first orgasm, you two resumed your position where you sat on top of him. 

The two of you went easier than you normally would. As much as you wanted to bounce on Steven’s cock until the sun came up, your body was still on the mend, and your lovemaking consisted much more of your husband grinding into you, finding the perfect angle to rub his pubic bone on your clit while you clenched around him. And of course, his hands and mouth lavished non-stop attention on your puffed out nipples. 

While Marc had long retreated to the depths of the headspace, little did you or Steven know that Jake had stayed to watch. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was to watch Steven drink from you, nor should’ve the way you grasped your breasts to squirt some milk on his alter’s tongue when you came, but Jake was intrigued. 

***

Just before Nyla turned three months, your parents had convinced you to leave Nyla and go out for lunch with your husband, just the two of you. 

You’d agreed at first, positively exhilarated by the thought of an hour or two without thinking about diapers, feeding, and sleep schedules, but now that the afternoon of your lunch date with Steven had arrived, you couldn’t conceive of leaving your daughter, even if it was for a few hours and she’d be with her grandparents. 

“She’ll be fine,” your mother insisted. “Nyla-girl knows us now, and besides, didn’t Steven say you’d go to the bistro on the corner? You’ll be five minutes away tops.”

“But I’ve never left her before,” you protested as you tried to feed her. Nyla wasn’t latching, now a rarity rather than the norm. You used it as evidence to postpone your lunch. “See!”

Your mother took her from you, “She’s only doing that because she can sense you’re stressed. Sweetheart, trust me, it’ll be good for you and Marc–”

“It’s Steven today,” you corrected her. 

“Right, Steven. It’ll be good for you two to spend some time as just husband and wife. Your marriage is just as important as this little one here.” 

“But mom–”

“Now finish getting ready,” she wasn’t taking any buts. “Wear something nice.”

As old-fashioned and misogynistic as the advice seemed, it had been a long time since you’d worn something remotely appealing. It felt good to feel like a human again too. Your styled your hair and applied some makeup too, giggling to yourself that Steven probably wouldn’t even recognize you now that you’d put some effort into your appearance. 

You strutted out of the bathroom in a little sundress and wedge sandals, “I’m ready!” 

Your dad appeared, “Shhh Nyla’s napping.” 

“Sorry,” you lowered your voice. “Where’s Steven?”

“He went ahead to grab you two a table,” he explained. Nyla began to fuss faintly over the baby monitor by the couch, “I’d make a run for it now if I were you.” 

Though it felt like there was a physical tether pulling you to where your daughter was fidgeting in her crib, your parents were only here for a few more days. You and Steven had to make the most of it. So you slipped out of the flat as silently as you could. 

You felt strangely unencumbered as you walked the thousand or so meters to your favorite little neighborhood spot. The few times you and your husband had left the house, it was almost always with Nyla, which meant you’d brought basically the entire contents of the flat with you. At the very least a diaper bag filled to the brim. With only a small purse for your phone, wallet, and lipstick, you couldn’t help but feel like you were forgetting something. 

Any worries you had evaporated when you rounded the corner and caught sight of Steven sitting outside on the bistro’s patio. He’d cleaned up too - his hair brushed and parted to the side like he favored, clean-shaven, and same as you, he’d traded sweats for a pair of trousers and a patterned, short-sleeved button down. 

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted him coquettishly as you sauntered over to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“You’re a bloody menace, you know that?” he fumed.

You played dumb, “What do you mean?” 

You stretched your arms up and over the back of the chair, further emphasizing your cleavage in your sundress. 

The dress was from your pre-pregnancy days. Beyond its fit flattering your post-baby body, you’d chosen to wear it since it also provided solid support in the bust, which meant for once you didn’t need one of your frumpy nursing bras. It was a tight fit however, clinging to your breasts and resting just above where the smooth, creamy skin of your breasts darkened into your nipples. You wore it to drive Steven wild, and it seemed to be achieving your desired effect rather nicely. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” 

“No,” You continued to play coy. “I thought I’d dress up for the first date with my husband after our daughter was born. Feels like a significant moment for us as parents.”

“You want me to say it.”

You leaned over the table to prop your ribcage on your forearms, giving Steven a new, even better view down your dress. “Say what, my love?” 

Steven whimpered, straight up whimpered, a sound you’ve never heard him make outside of the privacy of your bedroom. 

You were on the verge of showing him a bit of mercy when your server appeared. “Mr. and Mrs. Grant, nice to see you! How’s the new baby?” 

“She’s good, thanks” you grinned at them. 

“Lovely. Would you two like something to drink?”

“Yeah, we’re both pretty thirsty,” you replied, kicking Steven’s ankle under the table to tear his eyes off your bosom. “Steven, what would you like?” 

“Uhh, tea, please.” 

“‘Course,” the server noted. You and Steven were regulars so he knew your husband’s order. “With cream and sugar, right?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. It took another kick to his angle to elicit a proper response from Steven, “Yes, please. Thank you.”

“And for the Mrs.?”

“Just water please, and one for him too. Thanks Alex,” you told them with a smile. Once they departed from the table, you turned your focus back to Steven. “Wow, you really like my tits in this dress.”

Steven glared at you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think it’d make you this frustrated,” you apologized. “I thought we could use a break from the baby talk of it all, concentrate on the two of us, remind you of the person who made you and the other boys want to have Nyla in the first place.” 

He took your hand. “You look bloody gorgeous, and yes those were quite instrumental in creating Nyla if I recall correctly.” 

“I can run back home and get a sweater,” you offered, “if they’re too distracting.”

Steven squeezed your hand and rumbled, “Don’t you dare.”

“Then you’ll behave yourself?”

Steven sent you a mischievous smirk and a shrug. 

And for the majority for the meal, he did. While it was impossible for your conversation not to include Nyla, you two did manage to discuss other topics. Steven got your thoughts on the changes he was thinking of making to his course at UCL for the fall semester, you mentioned a new restaurant you wanted to try, and the both of you brainstormed baby-friendly places to spend Steven’s fall holiday if Marc and Jake’s schedules also allowed. 

Throughout the meal however, you noticed Steven barely touched his tea. That was odd for him, since he downed no less than six cups a day. 

“Hon, are you alright?” You inquired after Alex cleared your plates and settled the bill. 

“Never better, why?” 

“You had like two sips of your tea,” you noted, “What, did they change their stock?”

“No,” Steven replied without elaborating. 

“Then what is it? “

“It’s the creamer,” he confessed with a suggestive look in his eye. “I’ve developed a taste for something a little sweeter.” 

You felt yourself flush. “Steven,” you warned him. 

“Come on, babe,” he pleaded, “you can’t wear that dress and expect me to wait until tonight.” 

He had a point. You’d spent all of lunch teasing him. “But where would we go?” 

“Bathroom.” 

“Together?” 

“You go first, I’ll follow you and knock three times so you know it’s me” he instructed. “Then if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re having ‘a new mother moment’.”

“What the hell is ‘a new mother moment’?”

“Dunno, but no one will ask anything more if I tell them that.” 

“We can’t get caught, I really like this place, Steven,” you cautioned, “I don’t want Alex and the staff here thinking we’re perverts.”

“I don’t think anyone will blame me after seeing you parade around in this little dress all afternoon,” Steven pointed out. “Besides, that’s up to you darling, as my mouth will be occupied.” 

You cursed the hot shiver that slid down your spine at his words. You rose from the table. “Five minutes.” 

Steven nodded, a tad too emphatically. 

“Be cool!” you whisper-yelled before disappearing inside the cafe. 

Thankfully it was a small bistro, so they had only one bathroom, so Steven couldn’t accidentally get the wrong door, plus the lunch rush was over, which reduced your chances of being interrupted. 

You locked the door behind you, and found yourself giddily pacing the length of the small loo. After checking your reflection in the mirror, you planned how you wanted Steven to find you. 

You decided to keep your chest covered for now and let your husband ‘unwrap his prize’ so to speak, so you opted to step out of your knickers and tuck them into your purse. Next, you hiked up the skirt of your dress and began touching yourself. Fuck, you were wet. Maybe this little rendezvous wasn’t only for Steven’s benefit. 

Three raps on the door sounded and you lunged to open it as quickly as possible and resume the lascivious tableau you’d created for Steven to discover you in. You managed to swing it, sinking down on the closed toilet seat and fondling your pussy while Steven slipped in and locked the door behind him. 

“Shit,” Steven exhaled at the sight of you. 

“You going to stand there all day and make me get myself off?” you challenged him with a playful lift of your brows. 

Your husband pounced on you, caging you into his grasp and then drawing you into his lap, where you could feel his already throbbing erection. He yanked down the straps of your dress as once, your tits tumbling into view, already dribbling from your lust. He dove right into your cleavage, his tongue tracing the rivulets of milk that had trickled down your skin. 

Meanwhile, you made quick work of his belt and fly, eagerly fishing Steven’s length out of his boxer-briefs and giving him a few tugs. You took a moment when you lined yourself up to sink down on his cock, slipping his head back and forth to feel your slick. 

“Were you not wearing knickers this entire time?” Steven asked before latching onto a nipple. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” you hedged, figuring that the ambiguity would only rile him up more. 

He groaned deeply around your tit when you sank down on him, while you bit your lip to muffle your own moan. You two worked in tandem to draw your bodies together, the force of your coupling causing Steven to have to pull off of your breast. That didn’t stop him from drinking from you however, he simply grabbed both of your tits and contracted his hands to spray your nectar into his mouth. 

It was Steven’s new favorite thing. He liked to switch, drinking a splash from each nipple, and you were a fan of this technique too, since it meant he could talk dirty to you while he consumed you. 

“Taste so good,” he mumbled after swallowing a squirt. “Ugh, wanna milk these jugs into a glass so I can have you anytime.”

You dug your fingers deeper into the meat of Steven’s shoulders and keened. This was some of his naughtiest stuff yet. Getting off on the impropriety of your situation seemed to be doing the trick for both of you today. 

“So bad daddy,” you gave it right back to him. “Looking at my titties all while I’m trying to eat, thinking about eating me.” 

“Don’t play innocent,” he retorted. “Stuffing your big boobs into this flimsy dress. I know exactly what you were trying to do to me. Is that what you wanted? For me to pound my cock into you while I suckle at your tits?”

He punctuated his question by doing just that, flicking his tongue over one of your weeping nipples and latched on to coax your milk into his mouth faster. 

“Yesssssss,” you moaned. You added a swivel to your hips for good measure. “Ohhh I wanna come.” 

“Yeah? Then rub that little bud of yours, come all over my cock,” he provoked you. 

You did just as he said, maneuvering your hand around his that were still attached to your boobs and worked frenzied circles over your clit. Your release hit you less than a minute later, your fingers providing the last push over the edge, where the novelty of the location and desperation for each other had brought you there quicker than usual. 

You kept impaling yourself on your husband’s dick. He was close too, you could tell from the little cries he let out around your breasts that took on a borderline forlorn tone, as if Steven didn’t want to come yet, he didn’t quite want your fucking to be over. 

Steven was no match for the heat of your cunt and the sweet creaminess of your teats however. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and planting his face in between your boobs as his cock gushed inside you. 

A few moments of silence transpired between the pair of you, save for your heavy breathing, then Steven slowly and gently extracted himself from your core. 

“I can’t believe no one interrupted us,” you marveled. 

Steven nodded from where he stood by the sink to wet paper towels to clean you both up. “Lucky, innit?” 

“Thank you honey,” you said softly when we passed you paper towels for your breasts and slit. “We should be getting back.” 

You tried to think of something else to say, but when you and Steven looked at each other, the two of you simply burst into a fit of giggles in disbelief over what you’d just done. 

“You could ask me for anything now and I’d say yes, I reckon,” your husband joked while you two switched spots in the small bathroom. You checked your appearance, smoothed down your hair, and prayed that people wouldn’t be able to see how fucked out you felt. 

“You and the other boys already gave me everything I could ever want,” you turned away from the mirror to gaze straight at Steven. “A beautiful, healthy baby, and a trio of loving fathers to raise her with.”

“Awwww, darling–”

“Jewelry would also be nice,” you swiftly added. You found the idea of a “push present” too transactional, having a baby was both your and your husband’s idea thank you very much, and you knew what you were signing up for.  In fact, you’d fiercely wanted it. But something sparkly had caught your attention recently. “There’s this stunning gem bracelet I saw on the Tiffany website that would go great with my eyes. I’ll send you the link.” 

Steven rose from the toilet seat and crowded in behind you. He sprinkled a few kisses on your neck, then locked eyes with your reflection. “Whatever you want.” 

***

Marc and Jake didn’t protest when Steven mentioned he purchased you the Tiffany bracelet, work had been steady for all three of them, and you had a solid maternity leave package. 

“Besides, think of how much we’ve saved on groceries now that every night Steven eats local for dessert,” Marc quipped. 

Steven had fucked you in full view of the mirror to get back at him for that, using every trick in his book to show how much you enjoyed him enjoying your body. 

Though drinking from your tits didn’t really appeal to Marc (truthfully he had no qualms with it, despite an offhand joke here and there), Jake was different. He hadn’t forgotten the look of elation you wore on your face that time he watched you and Steven fucking while he tasted you. 

His chance came a week after your parents had left. Nyla was soundly settled into her sleep schedule, and things didn’t feel quite as chaotic as they had when you first brought you little bundle of joy home. You two were lying on the couch, watching a trashy reality show after folding a load of laundry while Nyla napped. 

“Ugh, shit,” you swore, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Jake clicked off the TV. “You okay querida?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I leaked again,” you took the pads out of your bra. Jake couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “I’m just pissed because I thought I was done with this.” 

“Lo siento, mami.” 

You rose from the couch. 

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower,” you told him. “Warm water helps ease the ache.”

Jake caught your hand. “Wait.”

“What?”

“No”, Jake barked at his reflection on the dormant television screen, then furrowed his brow. You recognized it as the look he made when he tried to stave off a switch, “I want to help.” 

“You do?” you asked carefully. “You do know what Steven usually does to relieve the pressure?”

“Si mami,” he reiterated. “I figure if Steven likes it, why wouldn't !?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’ve seen you eat two burgers in one sitting and Steven’s a vegan?”

Jake waved a hand as if to swat the implication away. “That’s different.”

You weren’t convinced. “How so?”

“Because Steven and I share a taste for you.” 

“Okay,” you watched him cautiously as you sat back down, “We can stop if it’s too weird for you.” 

“Please,” Jake scoffed, climbing over you and pinning you down onto the cushions. “They’re your tetas and they’re still so big. And you know I’m the kinkiest one out of all of us.”

“Bien bien Papi,” you surrendered. “Show me what you got.”

Your husband hastily rid you of your clothes. When his mouth first made contact with your pearly nipple, a hearty groan resonated in his chest. He’d held the warm, heavy weight of your post-baby tits many a time, but this was something entirely different. 

“Mmm, mamacita, su leche es tan dulce,” he switched to the other peak, already getting drunk off your milk, “no wonder Steven didn’t want to share.” 

***

Your family’s fall holiday came together more smoothly than you’d anticipated. Steven’s students were on holiday, Jake took time off from the limo company he owned, and Marc was between consulting jobs. 

You were still on maternity leave, but planned on returning to your job in the new year. This time was precious - it felt like the end of a chapter, the last hurrah, the eve of “what comes next”. 

So you and the boys rented a seaside cottage in Cornwall. Though you were anxious about Nyla and the four-hour car trip, she was a champ. It turned out that Jake was the one you needed to worry about, nearly veering off the road when he caught a glimpse of you feeding Nyla in the backseat. Apparently your daughter wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hungry. 

It was past the busy season, so the little village you were staying in was quiet, exactly what you’d all wanted. You pushed Nyla’s stroller around the sleepy high street, hoping the serene location would ease the blow of what you needed to discuss with Steven. 

“Solid foods.” 

“Yes,” you confirmed, “We’ve waited long enough to start her on them. I don’t want her to fall behind “ 

“So no more breastfeeding,” Steven spoke slowly, deliberately. 

“Yeah.” you tried to soften the blow. “But not right away, it’s a process.” 

Steven looked at you like a kicked puppy, but ultimately he wanted what was best for his daughter. Trying to look on the bright side, he remarked “Well, there’s always the next one.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, storminess flickering behind your eyes. “This one–” you pointed to Nyla, “--needs to be potty-trained and eating solid foods before any of you–” you jabbed your finger at him “--in there can even begin to think about the next one.”

Steven immediately squeaked out a “Yes ma’am.” 

“I freaked out,” you acknowledged. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright love,” Steven comforted you, affectionately bumping his shoulder with yours. “You have to do the hard bit after all. Feels like it goes without saying, but we don’t want another until you’re ready.” 

“I know,” you exhaled. “It’s been a lot. And as only you could, you turned my struggle with breastfeeding Nyla into a way for us to celebrate being new parents, when it could’ve sent me straight off the deep end. I can’t tell you how much it means…I was so self-conscious about my body after giving birth, and you–Jake and Marc too–but you especially made me feel desirable when I was afraid I never would again.” 

Steven drew you into a misty-eyed kiss. “I will always desire you. If anything, your post-pregnancy self is the hottest version of you so far.” 

You preened from his praise. “You’re a good man, Steven.” 

The week you were spending on the coast also marked your anniversary with Steven (each alter had their own “relationship anniversary” with you, though the four of you shared your wedding date).

As gracious as he’d been earlier, you knew Steven was gutted about you weaning Nyla off the boob, so you intended to do something special for him that night. 

You knew he’d spoil you, and your husband didn’t disappoint. Steven ordered takeaway from one of the nicer restaurants in town, setting up a candlelit dinner in your AirBnb cottage so you two could commemorate the evening without having to leave your daughter with a sitter. The Tiffany earrings that matched your bracelet though were a pleasant surprise though. 

For your gift, you’d encased his favorite photo of him and Nyla in a frame where you also made imprints of her little hands and feet. 

“For your desk at uni,” you’d elucidated when he unwrapped it. 

“Darling,” he whispered in awe. 

Steven’s dinner also included a bottle of very nice wine, which led to you making out like randy teenagers on the couch after your meal. 

“Are you ready for part two of your present?” you queried breathlessly. 

Steven looked up from the spot on your neck he’d been nibbling on. “There’s a part two?”

You assured him with a flirty little nod. “See, there is one more thing I want you to do to me while I still have these.” You grasped your tits and pushed them together with your palms.

Your husband’s eyes widened and his hips jerked underneath you. “What is it?” 

Instead of answering, you climbed off of him and led him to the bedroom. Your gaze kept dropping to the tent Steven’s turgid cock made in the dad-trousers he wore long before Nyla had been born. You found the view just as lewd as it was invigorating. 

Once you hopped back on the bed, you ordered Steven not to move a muscle, and peeled off the rather modest loose-fitting dress you’d worn for dinner to reveal the lingerie you sported underneath. The skimpy set consisted of a mostly sheer bustier that embraced just how obscenely big your boobs remained and a tiny, strappy thong. 

Your husband’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Fucking hell, babe. You look incredible.” 

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” your voice was lilting. “Now remember, stay there, and no touching”

“What are you going to do?” he whispered with a mix of crippling arousal and a perhaps a hint of fear. 

You palmed your mounds once again, squeezing them to urge more milk to spew from your teats. Breathy little gasps and sighs stuttered out from your lips as you soaked the thin mesh of your bustier, you wanted to put on a show for him. 

Steven’s hand crept down to his crotch but before it could reach its destination you snapped, “Hey! I said no touching.”

“I thought you meant you,” he whined. 

“Nope,” you quipped, popping the ‘p’. “You’ll get your chance soon.” 

“When?”

“Hmmm,” you glanced down at your chest and rib cage that was now bathed in your own milk. “Think I’m slippery enough?” 

“Uh huh,” came Steven’s articulate reply. 

“Okay then,” you leaned your arms back on the bed, “Now fuck my tits.” 

Steven’s knees threatened to give out. He caught himself and what he said next was a bigger surprise than the earrings. “Alright, mommy. But I wanna get my prick wet in your pussy before I stick it between your knockers.” 

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. Where the hell had sweet Steven gone and how did he learn to talk like this? Two could play that game. You fiddled with the straps of thong. “Then come over here and move these panties out of the way.” 

Steven jumped you, knocking you back on the bed, too impatient to get inside you to properly deal with your scanty underwear so he did exactly as you’d prodded, he pushed the crotch of your thong aside and sunk two fingers into your sopping pussy. 

They went in without much resistance, thus Steven only felt the need to drive them into you a few times, curling them against your g-spot for good measure. He licked off the residue of your desire from his digits and proceeded to tear at his own clothes until he was naked. 

His eyes were wild, wilder than you’d ever seen them, as Steven notched the head of his angry-looking erection at the opening of your cunt and sheathed himself in one fluid stroke. You cried out while Steven groaned, your husband wasting no time to start hammering into you. 

Every forceful push of his hips punched a “uh” from you, his unrelenting pace stringing them together in quick succession. He couldn’t stop watching your tits swing freely and the copious amounts of milk spill from them. His orgasm mounted in his groin sooner than expected, which propelled him to wrench his dick from your folds and grip the base tightly. Steven wasn’t coming anywhere except your tits. 

“Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice gravel as he clumsily scooted up your body to straddle your bosom. 

“Please daddy.” 

Steven advanced with a goddamn growl, positioning his cock between your milky tits and plunging his length in between them as you held your breasts together. It was nasty, your milk mingling with your juices and his precum, all spread across the expanse of your chest. 

Yet the years of love and trust you and Steven had fostered with one another allowed you both to succumb to the kinkiness of the sex you were having without shame. It had taken a hell of a lot of communication and vulnerability for you to get to here, so yeah, you were going to revel in the slick sound Steven’s cock made as it slipped between your tits, the way his face was contorted with pleasure and concentration, how his hands had fallen on top of yours to create the suffocating channel for him to fuck his rock-hard length through. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this meant you were going to have to be this slutty for all of your husbands’ anniversaries, but the thought was kicked out of your consciousness when Steven removed his hands from the top of yours to pluck at your nipples. 

A primal sound of pleasure tore from your throat that also ignited your competitive streak. You tilted your neck up and opened your mouth so that the tip of Steven’s cock could brush against your tongue on every drive of his pelvis. 

The kitten licks were what did him in, Steven orgasmed with a roar and raised himself higher on his knees at the last possible second to paint your boobs with his seed. 

“Oh. My. Days.” Each word required their own breath from your winded husband, now speaking his normal register once again. 

“Yeah,” was all your scrambled brain could add before you tried to squirm away from Steven’s tongue on your sternum. 

“Please, love,” he nuzzled the one patch of skin on your torso that wasn’t doused in some form of bodily fluid. “Wanna taste us.”

“Fine,” you submitted. “Be grateful I can’t move.” 

Steven hummed happily, getting a total of three sweeps of his tongue across your torso before Nyla’s fussing echoing down the cottage’s small hallway. 

“Perfect timing, as always,” you groused. 

“Ehh, she could've announced herself a lot sooner,” Steven countered. “Hey, you didn’t come.” 

There was your Steven, ever the gentleman and egalitarian in the sack. “Honey, if you go take care of her and let me shower right now, we can call it even.” 

He pecked your cheek and hopped to. “Only if you let me make a cup of tea too.” 

“‘Kay,” you said as he pulled on his, well technically Marc’s, boxers and headed toward the door.  You, on the other hand, set yourself the task of maneuvering to the en-suite without dripping everywhere and being kicked off of AirBnb.

“Hon?’ you looked to where Steven watched you from the doorway, ignoring Nyla’s fussing for one more minute. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am sweetheart,” you assured him. “My pussy’s going to be wet for days after this.”

Steven grinned, remarkably sweetly for a man who’d just come all over your chest. “Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” you parroted. 

Read the follow up fics : Close Encounters of the Maternal Kind  and First

A/N: Writes nearly 10,000 words of lactation kink and *takes myself to horny jail*. Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed! 

Also I wrote this in less than a week, isn’t that terrifying?! Leave it to the moon boys to inspire my to write obscenely long and dirty fics. 

My weird little headcanon on the reader and Nyla’s surnames are the on paper and official documents, you use Spector, but casually and in social situations you use the last name of whoever’s fronting. 

Translations: 

Pendejo - Stupid/Idiot 

Querida - dear 

Lo siento mami - I’m sorry, mommy 

Si mami - Yes mommy 

Tetas - tits 

Bien bien Papi - okay, okay Daddy 

mamacita, tu leche es tan dulce - little mama, your milk is so sweet

[thefugitivesaint]

‘Finding Batman’, written by voice actor Kevin Conroy who recently died at the age of 66 from cancer. (Capital F, FUCK cancer!).  The short comic was published in DC Pride 2022 and it details “Conroy’s tragic childhood and experience as a gay actor. It details how he missed many acting opportunities due to his sexuality or times when others in the industry casually threw homophobic slurs at him. In addition to being a gay man in a time when Hollywood was less accepting of homosexuality, he also came from a broken home. His father was an alcoholic who attempted suicide, his parents divorced, and his brother struggled with mental illness. Not only did he have to “mask” his sexuality from others, but also “mask” his own personal pain....Conroy elaborated that all of these experiences allowed him to connect with the character of Batman, one that he previously knew little about, in a highly profound way.” (Source) I didn’t watch much television around 1992 when Batman: The Animated Series started airing but, for some reason, I took time to watch this version of Batman (a character I hadn’t given much attention. In fact, I didn’t give DC Comics much attention until Vertigo started in 1993). I don’t remember why I started watching B:TAS, it was probably the animation style that initially caught my attention, but the show itself was interesting enough to hook me. I kept watching right up until the show was cancelled in 1995. I give primary credit here to Conroy’s performance as Batman (and Bruce Wayne) which brought an unexpected nuance and maturity to an animated character that really helped elevate the show into something enduring (noting other additions of the shows legacy like the revamping of Mr. Freeze, the introduction of the character Harley Quinn, Mark Hamill’s portrayal of the Joker, etc.) Whenever I think of Batman, it’s Conroy’s version of Batman that comes to mind. Conroy IS Batman. Conroy defined the voice and sentiment of Batman having played the character longer than any other actor. It was Conroy who first used two distinctive voices for Bruce Wayne and Batman, a method every subsequent actor who as portrayed the character of Batman has replicated. It was Conroy’s voice acting that helped make the Rocksteady Studios ‘Arkham’ games so much fun to play. Conroy’s Batman is the best Batman.  Oh, I lifted the comic from here. 

[vtoriacore]

✧ they feel too much, too deep, too fast

note: huzzah, me waxing weird fvnking yandere poetry (not really) at ungodly hours of the night when i should be writing an essay.

extra note: PLS tell me i’m doing sebek justice, i didn’t want to bring malleus up at all (because i don’t really like him don’t really want this to be sebek’s yandere personality lol). also didn’t really proofread this enough so there probably are silly errors but spare me the shame thank you mwah!

characters: cater, vil, sebek, ace, jamil

tw: gaslighting, manipulation & bit of mind games if you squint, delusional mindsets

synopsis: in which the boys' love is a bit intense, but you don't necessarily pay it attention with how focused you are on them reciprocating.

✯; It was a novel experience, really. He couldn't surmise the feelings he felt in that one moment that seemed to change the trajectory of his entire life - and this was by no means exaggeration.

Cater felt the rapid beating of his heart, felt the way his breathing picked up dramatically, and most of all felt the warmth as it spread throughout his body at the notion of feeling wanted. Feeling cared for. And by the great seven he didn't even realise how much he craved this until now.

It was almost comical how it only took a simple "i want you to be honest with me" on your end to absolutely send his heart into overdrive, how the phrase "i care about you, you know" escaped your lips so easily and just how effortless it seemed for you to look at him with concern gleaming in your eyes when you noticed his smile didn't quite feel genuine that day.

He felt his entire world flip for just a second before everything came crashing down and the sudden weight of emotions he couldn't even begin to name grounded him into reality - where he actually felt he wanted to stay for once if just to see you for a second longer.

There were so many different thoughts swimming around in his head but most importantly- you were still waiting for an answer. And he'd sooner combust than keep you waiting any longer.

"I know you do, prefect! But really don't worry so much~ I'll be fine as long as you keep me company," he silently prayed you couldn't see the raging crimson hue settling on his skin under the darkening sky. It was a miracle he managed to vocalise his sentence anyway with how abalze his entire body felt.

"I'll worry anyway, but I'll always be here if you do want to spend time with me. Just us two or with others."

'Just us two, just us two, just us two'; he nearly squealed, feeling the temptation to take you up on that offer immediately. In fact, he really did not want to go back to the dorm and have to share your attention. No, he needed it on him and only him and he wouldn't let anything get in the way of that soft gaze of yours.

"Hmm, I actually wouldn't mind getting away from the crowd just this once!" with a grin, Cater's eyes bore into your frame with an intensity he couldn't quite halt but he figured you wouldn't notice anyway, seeing as you offered a smile and a nod in return to his statement. He simply couldn't wait to get you on his own after that revelation.

✯; Vil carefully threaded his fingers through his platinum blond hair in front of the vanity mirror, knowing you were beside watching his every move. He could feel your stare burning into his side profile and in that moment, he was so grateful that years of acting had allowed him to keep his calm when all he wanted to do was combust into flames.

"Hm? Is something the matter, dear?" he purposefully lowered his tone, made it sound as sultry as possible, expecting the little surprise on your face as you quickly tried to keep composure when he side eyed you. The urge to take you into his arms was incredibly strong in that second, especially when you cast your eyes to his lips momentarily.

God, he had never wished to smudge his lipstick by locking his lips onto yours more than in that particular moment, when the soft lights in his room highlighted your face in a manner that made you look so ethereal that it was hard to breathe.

"I'm . . . Fine. Yeah," you swallowed thickly, willing yourself to look away so you wouldn't do anything stupid. The blonde found himself delighted at your reaction, willing his own gaze to rip away from your face otherwise he might just end up making his own intense decisions on a whim.

And yet, he found that he almost didn't mind. Sure, he had wanted to make his confession of love absolutely perfect (having asked Rook to give him all the information on you he possibly could get away with) but at the end of the day, he flourished in the way his efforts to enamour you had been paying off. And, and, and! He could clearly see you wanted him, maybe not as much as he wanted - no, needed you, but still wanted him nonetheless. It was progress all the same.

However, at the same time a part of Vil had wanted your admiration to be deeper . . . more intimate. Although he knew it was wrong and absolutely sick, he had hoped you would do something more. He wanted you to secretly follow him, thinking he can't sense your presence when it's the only thing filling his mind. He wanted you to take pictures he wouldn't ever find, but would know were taken since his gaze never leaves you. And he so desperately wanted your attention all on him, and nothing but him, never straying away for more than a second.

He was going to make you obsessed with him, one way or another. And soon, he will be the only thing occupying your thoughts - he simply has to be.

✯; There wasn't a semblance of sense to Sebek's thoughts, and he knew it. Just how could a simple 'human' (he refused to admit you were more than that, so much more than that) be so captivating? If anyone had asked him in that second, on who was the most fair in his eyes, his answer would've been you. Delusional or not, your name would inevitably slip past his lips.

The conflicting feelings he felt within him didn't ease at all; he felt like he was betraying his master, but at the same time, he didn't really have control over what he was thinking. And this once, he didn't want to think about anything other than you. He wished for you to be the center of his attention, and he couldn't even describe why. It just felt so liberating, despite it holding his mind captive. The irony didn't even register as his lime coloured eyes simply inspected your form.

Great seven, you were just so beautiful. And he so wished that you saw him that way too, because lord knows he was addicted to your gaze whenever it landed on him. He always needed more and more and more. But he wasn't selfish, no! - he was willing to give back twice as much and he would do anything to get the chance to do so.

His rational thoughts telling him this isn't normal be damned! That overpowering need to have you to himself was too strong. His own master and Lilia expressed that this is something worth pursuing anyway, that his adoration is 'perfectly reasonable' and 'aww, so cute!'. How could he stop pursuing you this way, if his own role models encouraged him to keep going? How could he stop when they affirmed this is normal, completely okay?

And besides, it wasn't as though you were rejecting his advances; you were actively awaiting his next move and he could tell from the teasing glint you held in your eyes each time. Even now, as you simply looked at him, he could tell you wanted him to do something. Anything. If he wasn't actively feeling what he was doing, he would've suspected you had complete control over his body with how his rationality couldn't win over.

But well, he wouldn't have minded if that was the case. This line of thinking may not be right, but it sure as hell does feel it.

✯; Ace could really be cruel at times. Really cruel - and he knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it. But even he could recognise that this time, maybe he went too far. Scratch that 'maybe' actually, he may have just ruined whatever friendship you two had. And what better way to do that than kissing you senseless against the empty alchemy classroom's door as you both struggle for air?

"Ace I- I need . . . Some, some oxygen," you barely managed to rasp out against his lips as his ruby red eyes barely shifted into focus. Great seven, he felt so incredibly dazed with how tightly he was pressing against you as could barely keep his hands from moving through your hair.

"Fuck oxygen, I wanna kiss you," the redhead felt his heart hammer (even more so than previously) against his chest at the sound of your giggle. Without a second thought, not that he could think in the first place with what you were doing to him, Ace dove right back in to slot his lips against yours.

Could you really blame him though? It wasn't his fault you were so breathtaking that he could barely keep his eyes away from your form. It wasn't his fault that every time you looked at him, you had that certain look to you - the kind which told him that if he'd ask you to pluck the stars out of the sky for him, you wouldn't even hesitate. And it sure as hell wasn't his fault that you were actively trying to pull him into you more, if that was even possible with your current proximity.

Ace was never one for discipline or self-control, and he was completely aware of it. Sure it proved to be a hindrance most times, but he thought that today, when he spontaneously decided to press you up against this door, it wasn't such a bad thing after all. He knew he had gone too far, that the carefully crafted friendship was now over, that he was being particularly cruel with the way he kept biting your lower lip to get a reaction and, that by kissing you senseless in this very second, he knew that he couldn't ever let you go.

✯; They say that love at first sight is a very magical experience, and that it can completely change a person and their outlook on things. But Jamil would have to disagree with this notion. There never was a love at first sight, nor a love at second sight, or the third and fourth and so on. It was never about sight anyway. Because the first time he met you, he just felt it. He felt how the universe had perfectly aligned itself for that one fateful meeting, how you simply had to accidentally run into his arms as if scripted and how effortlessly he had caught you as if taking stage directions like a professional actor.

It didn't register immediately of course, quite the contrary as it took him a few weeks, if not months to understand what he was feeling. He did eventually come to the realisation that maybe he had liked you as more than a friend (in fact, liked would be putting it mildly) but each time he thought back to that certain encounter, he just knew the feeling was there from the beginning.

At least, he remembers it that way, and has memorised it to be that way. Every time he thinks back to your smile and eyes when he had helped you, they seem to get brighter and brighter and more clouded with emotions he could never transcribe. And it simply has to be true because you had to have felt the exact same thing and he is convinced.

Sure, the jolt of electricity and sparks and the effect of time slowing down were missing - you two weren't in some half hearted romance movie after all - but he just knew that you both felt it. Maybe you didn't remember it that way initially, but after enough description on Jamil's end, you were finally starting to remember!

And it made the heat creep up his skin at alarming rates, as it simply solidified one thing; you were meant to be together. It's cliché, and he knows it. But does he care, with the way you run into his arms every time you see him? With how he feels his heartrate pick up just as upon your very first meeting?

It feels like the first every time, and he could see you were starting to believe it too. If he wasn't certain of his own strong ideology regarding this, he almost would've thought you believed it even more than him by this point! But he knew it wasn't because he was blindly making up excuses to keep you tied to him, despite what Azul was trying to claim. Azul was simply wrong; there were no rose coloured lenses involved, nor any gaslighting into making you think he was the only person worthwhile in your life and certainly he wasn't making you depend on him so you could never leave even if you tried to.

Jamil was convinced your love was pure and it was honest and it was true, and he didn't have to convince you of anything any longer, because by this point you were the one trying to convince him.

[;-] i usually never do this but i’m thinking of expanding that jamil thought into an actual fic because whoo shared delusions and manipulating each other (and he’s my fave anfkgn). plus originally i was gonna get his UM involved but it would’ve gotten too long whoops. 

[akirakurusuimagines]

had the idea of reader getting marin karin'd and it not wearing off after leaving the metaverse so our dear boy helps her out by gently overstimulating her in front of a mirror 👉👈

I'm sorry for how long it's been taking to get this out! Hopefully the others won't take as long. Please enjoy! (minors DNI)

It only takes one mistake for everything to fall apart.

Akira believed they were sufficiently prepared to waltz right into Mementos and explore the depths that opened after the public’s response to their latest and greatest heist. He disregarded Morgana’s incessant warning that he was running low on ailment-curing items and revival items, reminding the cat that he was already planning on putting him and Makoto on the front lines this time so there was nothing to worry about.

So really, this mess was his fault. As leader, he knows he shoulders the responsibility of anything and everything that happens, even if his teammates don’t blame him.

It began to storm back in the real world as they reached the end of the current depths⁠; a painstakingly slow thirteen floors⁠ to comb through in search of treasure and experience. Everyone was nearing their physical and mental limits for the day, but at the sight of a rare challenger on their way back, they let their youthful recklessness seep through. One more, they all thought, one more to end the trip on a high note.

The high note they sought after quickly⁠ and almost comically⁠ became shrill.

The battle turned for the worst: unable to find a weakness, you and Mona were left with minimal SP, Queen had suffered an ill-timed critical attack and was knocked out cold, and Joker himself was running on fumes. Mind scattered in desperation, Joker attempted to regain some footing by attacking the particularly strong enemy with Marin Karin, hoping to charm it.

He didn’t expect that the enemy would end up reflecting it back at him.

Nor that you would take the brunt of the attack by jumping in front of him last-minute.

Joker and Mona finished the battle through sheer dumb luck, and all of the thieves expected things to return to normal. Queen stood up on shaky legs and thanked Panther for medicine, but when they turned to look at you, their hearts dropped.

Your face was flushed and eyes glassy, no different than how you were in battle. The unspoken rules of Mementos was broken⁠—somehow you didn’t come to once the fight finished.

Joker took to your side immediately, helping you up but freezing at the garbled moan that slipped past your lips the moment his hands landed on you. The others looked on with concern and fear, not understanding why this was happening, but it was obvious to everyone that they needed to leave immediately. He apologized to them and announced that he’ll be taking you home to make sure you’re safe and resting while the others research the strange divergence.

His arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you steady as you mindlessly clung to him, and ushered you out of Mementos and towards the trains.

Akira felt like he was suffocating. If this is how he was feeling, he could only start to imagine what you’re suffering through right now.

He kept you hidden from view as best as he could, squished in the corner between the door, the seats, and him. Akira put you in a spare face mask he had and slid his glasses over your nose, hoping to protect your identity in case any snooping individual lingered on you two a little too long.

“Hold on just a little longer for me, okay? We’re almost there.”

He watched your knees buckle and your thighs clench together at his words and felt his mouth run dry. Akira willed himself to stay calm, to steady his heartbeat, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do when you were in a state like this. Especially considering he harbored feelings for you.

“Please,” you begged. He almost didn’t hear it with how quietly you murmured it. “Akira, I… I need…”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Yeah?” he leaned in closer, hoping to catch the rest of what you’re saying.

Your hand grabbed his thigh, tugging his leg closer to you and causing him to stumble forward, balancing with his forearm next to your head. He stared at you with wide eyes as you shifted his leg with no resistance between your thighs and sat on it, slowly and carefully grinding against it.

Akira’s head whipped around, making sure no one was watching as you shamelessly used his leg to relieve some of the pressure that Marin Karin’s charm had on you. He nearly stopped breathing when you whined right next to his ear, a sound too soft for anyone else to notice as the train screeched to another halt.

Your stop was next, but there was no way he was making it out of this without a boner. He looked back at you and swallowed hard, only able to see the way your eyes were screwed shut and eyebrows knitted with frustration and concentration, pressing yourself a little harder against the meat of his thigh.

“Need more, ‘s too hot,” you blabbered softly, hands gripping the lapel of his blazer. “want you, want you so bad⁠—”

“We⁠—we’re almost home,” Akira choked out, each passing moment more difficult than the last. He wanted to pinch himself, wondering if this was actually some wild porno dream he was having back in Leblanc, but the way you felt rutting against his thigh like this was far too real for him to deny this was reality.

“Akiraaaa...”

He nearly lost himself when he saw your teary-eyed expression, suddenly grateful for the crowded train dissuading him from bending you over the train seats and giving into temptation. Akira wanted to know every part of you: every touch that makes you keen, every kiss that makes your head spin, every position that makes you cream.

Akira almost praised the gods aloud when the announcer comments on your stop, pulling himself off of you despite your whines and taking your hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he nearly runs out of the train the second the doors behind you open.

It was quite the ordeal dragging you back home. Every moment he stopped, your hands would wander, gripping his shirt or his belt loops, sliding your hand underneath to feel the warmth of his skin. You pressed closer and closer against him, your inhibitions far-gone, leaving only your charmed mind.

He grabbed your wrist firmly when you reached for his crotch at the door to your house, sucking in a large breath and hoping you’d be able to contain yourself enough for him to open the door with your keys and lead you inside.

Akira pushed open the door and dragged you inside, kicking it closed and locking it quickly. He couldn’t help the whole-body sigh that passed through him with the relief of privacy.

You, however, took it as your cue to tackle him to the ground and relieve yourself.

“Shit, wait, hold on⁠—” Akira staggered back, gripping your hip and arm and barley catching himself. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t want to try to get… uh… get off on your own?”

“No no no no no⁠—!” you shook your head adamantly despite your slurred voice, the sheer panic in your voice and face surprising him. “Want you, only you, please.”

Akira pressed his lips together in a tight line and hoisted you up in his arms, silently thanking the rough training he’s been enduring with Ryuji. The way your eyes lit up as he carried you to your bedroom made his heart palpitate, the rational side of him quickly losing to the promise of passion.

He really was weak to you.

He grunted as his legs hit the bed, falling down with you on his lap. Akira barely had time to speak before your lips were all over him, kissing all over his face and jaw as you roughly grinded against him. He choked down his moans and tangled a hand in your hair, hoping to slow you down with a sharp tug to your scalp.

Akira felt you seize up the moment he did, nails digging into his shoulders despite the layers of clothing, pressing your hips harder against his, and with a loud cry, he felt dampness against his crotch. It took a moment to process that you came untouched, just from him having you in his lap and tugging your hair.

“Did you just…?” his hand wandered towards your pants, slipping inside your underwear and feeling the sticky substance coat his fingers as he reached your thighs. He pulled them out, observing the strands between his fingers and licking them clean with a low groan. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

Akira palmed your crotch and felt you shudder as you rolled your hips against his again. “But… it isn’t enough, right?”

“Nnno…”

He looked around the room briefly and caught his own eyes in the floor-length mirror in your room.

“Stand up for me and strip, sweetheart,” Akira instructed with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He loved the way you scrambled off of him, shedding your clothes and looking at him with the same hazy doe-eyes that made him spend countless private hours fantasizing about. You looked at him with so much lust, being so obedient for him in hopes of getting another orgasm.

He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside, shifting closer to the mirror until it stood in front of him. “Turn around and sit back on my lap.”

Akira steadied you with gentle hands on your hips as you sat on his lap and pressed your sticky thighs together to feel some kind of friction against the torturous heat. He pried them open, spreading your legs to straddle him and spreading you open for the mirror.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he gently chided, “keep these pretty thighs open for me, okay?”

Akira refused to touch you until you nodded.

“Perfect,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Akira guided his hands up from your thighs to your chest, brushing against your nipples and continuing his path up until he reached your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look at the shameful display you created with him. “I want you to look at yourself as I touch you,” Akira explained, “I want you to see everything.”

You nodded dumbly, anything to get his hands back to pleasuring you. “Please,” you continued to repeat with breathless whines, “I want more, I want you in me.” You pushed your ass harder against his hard cock, hoping he would take the bait. You wanted to be fucked silly and at this point you really didn’t care how you got there.

Akira sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling for a few seconds as you continued to grind yourself on his dick. “Later, okay?” his voice wavered and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own word with how enthusiastic you seemed about riding him.

He let go of your face and skimmed your inner thighs, catching the cum from your first orgasm on his fingers and finally touching you properly. You keened, head falling back as he slowly pressed two fingers into your hole. “Yes⁠!” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little further and bucking your hips into his hand, “More, please, oh god it feels so good⁠— hnn!”

Akira’s hand steadied your head, once again pushing you to look at yourself as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Don’t stop watching,” he purred as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “Oh, you liked that?”

You grasped his hair and his wrist, incoherent noises fumbling from your lips as Akira brought you to another orgasm within minutes. Marin Karin had quite the effect on you: keeping your stamina high and your libido higher, giving you more orgasms than you’ve had in your life, emptying your head and leaving nothing but pleasant buzzing.

He stared at you in the mirror, catching your unfocused gaze as your eyes shifted from his face to his hand and back again. “You’re doing so good,” Akira mumbled strings of words he barely paid attention to as you squirmed in his hold. He added another finger, stretching you out further and curling his fingers inside of you. He felt your legs shake and watched your jaw go slack as pleasure only continued to build.

“Again?” he asked, groaning at how you clench around his fingers, barely giving him room to move them. Even still, you continue to thrust your hips into his hands⁠, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you need,” Akira promised, kissing your cheek and resting his temple against yours, “I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

[aminiatureworld]

Careless Words

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,114

Warnings: Brief depiction of drunken character, swearing

Premise: Words are thrown around so carelessly, phrases, endearments, accusations. But when all is gone and only the words remain it can be difficult to pick up the pieces.

In which the reader and their s/o argue and make up.

Author’s Note: Ended up spending a good two hours on Albedo’s bit alone, wow I got carried away with this. Also I feel so bad for Childe, I’m sorry!

Not proofread cause I ran out of time, will do so tomorrow.

Albedo

“Do you even respect what I do?” Those words kept ringing through your ears, a bitter litany that fueled your anger just as it began to fade. Do you even respect what I do?

Of course you did, you respected him and his work very much, it was one of the first things that had drawn you to him, his inquisitiveness, his eternal questions, his determination to unlock the secrets of the world.

But really could he not do all that in his lab where all of his experiments and equipment belonged?

At first you hadn’t really paid attention, it was just a few plants after all. When you’d asked what they were for Albedo had smiled eagerly, replying that he wanted to see how different plants, especially those infused with elements, reacted to sunlight. You had just smiled then, although you were slightly worried about the mist flower freezing the ground around it. Still, it was a mundane enough experiment, and the plants looked very pretty on the windowsill. Nothing to worry about.

Well evidently that wasn’t quite the case because one experiment morphed into two morphed into five morphed into ten, until there seemed barely enough room to live among the beakers and graduated cylinders, the odd smells emanating from the various petri dishes which now scattered the coffee tables and the dressers.

It was becoming a nuisance, plain and simple. More than a few times you’d managed to almost tip something over, trying to grab a book off a shelf that was crammed with small boxes of various specimen, or almost putting a pot down on a counter covered with vials of whooper-flower nectars. You couldn’t live like this, and though you wanted to let Albedo carry on as uninhibited as possible, it couldn’t go on any longer. You were going to scream.

“Albedo, can we talk?”

“Of course.” Albedo looked up from the microscope he’d managed to cram on the coffee table. You let out a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace, making your way to the couch, careful not to bump into the table.

“Albedo, I love your passion in all that you do, but you really do have to tidy up a bit. I’m sorry I know it’s a bit of an inconvenience, but it’s just becoming a little difficult, you understand?”

“It’s only a few experiments.” Albedo replied, gaze still fixated on whatever he was observing. You felt a twinge of frustration, had he even heard you?

“This is serious Albedo. I don’t want to ruin any of your experiments, but it’s really becoming an impossible situation. We can barely cook for fear of crashing into something, and I’ve started waking up to the smell of fire flowers burning. Can’t you move one or two things into your laboratory?” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping that this time would be more successful. It was very irritating to feel like you weren’t being heard.

“I have an important experiment going on at the lab. It needs space and air. So I’m just moving everything here for the time being.”

“How long is that going to take?” You asked, once again feeling frustration rising up. He couldn’t even look up at you.

“Three weeks or so.”

“Three weeks?” You couldn’t help but let out a cry. “Albedo I’m sorry I cannot live like this for three weeks.”

“Why not.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Please look at me.” You finally said, tone dropping to one that made no attempt to hide your growing irritation. Albedo let out a curt sigh, glancing over at you with a disinterested sort of gaze. “You have to move some of this stuff out Albedo. It would be one thing if it was a week, but three? We can barely live right now, what are we supposed to do for the next three weeks?”

“I don’t know.” Albedo scowled in a dismissive tone. “I think you’re making too much of it.”

“And I think you aren’t listening. Are you even hearing what I’m saying? Even processing the situation? Or are you so focused on that microscope that you can’t see that your partner is besides themselves.”

“You seem fine to me,” Albedo’s tone continued its aloof cadence, “I don’t see why you can’t just wait three weeks. You’re being awfully demanding.”

“I…” for a moment you were speechless, feeling as if you were fighting a losing battle, why was it so much easier for Albedo so say words that meant nothing at all while you were quickly finding yourself losing your cool? “You aren’t listening to me!” You finally managed to get out, knowing by this time you were awfully close to shouting but too frustrated to care.

“And you aren’t listening to me,” Albedo’s tone finally began to inch into something a little more emotional, you weren’t sure why but it gave you a hint of satisfaction, “do you even respect what I do? Or are you too wrapped up in yourself.”

It was like getting punched in the gut.

“Fine.” You stepped away almost knocking into a dresser crammed with empty equipment. For a moment you wondered what you could say that would hurt him so much but quickly gave it up. You were too angry to think straight anyways; right now you just wanted to get out.

“Where are you going?” Albedo’s tone seemed to have shrunk back to its previous range.

You didn’t even respond, not bothering to gather anything up as you made your way to the door. Albedo called out your name once. You responded by slamming the door as hard as you could on your way out.

•

At first Albedo simply went back to his observations, trying to ignore the negative feelings that churned inside him. How dare you, he thought, how dare you take him and his work so lightly. Maybe it was good that you were getting out of the house, Albedo wasn’t sure how long he could’ve lasted until he lapsed into that horrible shrieking as well. “How embarrassing.” He murmured to himself, as if that would drown the unease. Still the fight was new and the emotions were raw. He wasn’t about to ponder the matter anytime soon.

This carefree attitude slipped a bit when you didn’t come home for dinner. Still he simply sighed and went to cook for himself. By now his anger had cooled extensively and he was beginning to feel a bitter sort of regret. Maybe he had been to harsh, though he still wasn’t ready to admit he was wrong. No, you were just being dramatic, and though he should’ve been kinder with you, backing down was absolutely not on the table for him. He cared about his work after all, cared deeply; he couldn’t just stop because it was inconvenient to you. Moving a few vials out of the way Albedo laid out the chopping block. The amount of pasta he’d bought looked comical against the knowledge that he was going to be eating alone tonight.

Dinner was a sad affair. Somehow Albedo had gotten used to cooking with you, your proximity, your easy conversation, the way the one who finished their food first always pushed their chair next to the slower party, usually to lean their head on the other ones shoulder which while not necessarily comfortable was certainly relaxing. It was lonely now, and the loneliness only grew as Albedo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be better. Still he lay there, thoughts scattered and hazy. Was he in the wrong? He couldn’t tell. But certainly he was in the wrong now, in the wrong for not being with you like usual, for not reacting when you left, for still being unable to react now.

It was that thought that eventually lulled him to sleep.

Albedo woke up to the most horrible smell. Squinting he sat up, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. The smell was vaguely akin to burning flesh, but it that flesh was also experiencing a bad case of freezer burn. Fighting the urge to gag Albedo stumbled around. Once he got to the living room he groaned. Some ammonia had managed to fall of the shelf and spill onto all the flowers he’d propped on the roof. Crinkling his nose he went to clean it up, but found it took about twenty minutes just to find where he’d put the tools for properly disposing equipment and bio-experiments.

By the time he was done the final shreds of his resolve had utterly dissipated. You were right. You were absolutely right and he absolutely needed to tell you. Barely stopping by the lab to throw the bags of ruined equipment in the trash he sprinted down the streets of Mondstadt. He hoped that he arrived at the Guild in time.

Albedo spied you just as your were getting your commissions handed to you. Calling out he stopped slightly as you turned to look at him with a weary gaze. Clearly you were still upset about the matter, and for a moment Albedo wondered whether or not he should just turn and leave. But he knew that wouldn’t help either. Nothing would help until he apologized, and that was exactly what he was going to you.

“Albedo I-”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo blurted out, not wanting to give you a chance to misconstrue his actions, “I am truly so sorry my darling. You were absolutely right, and I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. I am so deeply sorry.”

“Albedo,” you replied, voice sort of quiet in a way that worried him, “I’m very glad to accept your apology for that, I’m sorry for snapping at you, only…”

“Only?”

“Only did you mean what you said when you asked if I even cared? Do you think I am so selfish or so careless. I understand of course that words said in arguments are ones no one really thinks of, but I still want to know.” You glanced away, trailing off and Albedo felt his heart seize and a wave of guilt poured over him.

“Of course not!” Albedo stepped closer to you. “May I?” He opened his arms and you nodded briefly before closing the room between you two.

You buried your face in his shoulder, not wanting to look up. “I’m so sorry my darling,” Albedo whispered, running circles along your back. “I’m so sorry for making you question you and how I saw you like that. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. I was the one too wrapped up in myself, in my work, and for that I am so deeply sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you mumbled, just happy to be as you’d been before. Arguments were always unpleasant, no matter what, but now it was all said and done and you could be yourselves again.

“Would you like to eat lunch together?” Albedo ventured, smiling when you looked up and gave a soft “yes”. The relief he felt was overwhelming and he vowed next time to be more careful.

One can get over arguments, but words are difficult to take back.

 Childe

Although you disliked the Fatui in a vague, formal sort of way, that hatred had never truly been honed until you’d met Dottore.

At first you weren’t able to pinpoint what it was. Perhaps it was his erratic gaze, his odd smile, the way that he seemed to look at everything as if it was something to dissect – something which made you extremely uncomfortable. But then your dislike was given a proper motive when he and Childe went out one evening and your partner came back so plastered he didn’t seem to know who you were.

“Sorry about that dear.” Childe has laughed the day after, honestly how this man never seemed to have a proper hangover you didn’t know, not that he was drunk around you very often, something you appreciated greatly.

“Just don’t do it again.” You’d replied, frowning slightly. “That Dottore is a bad influence.”

“Awh, he’s not that bad,” Childe grinned, carelessly tossing about a book he had been reading, “not as bad as half the others anyways.”

“Still, be careful,” you commented, “you don’t want this to be a regular thing do you?”

“Aren’t I always careful?” Childe shook off your worry with his characteristic charm. “Besides Dottore’s going to be called back for a report to the Tsaritsa in about two weeks. Might as well make what you can out of his company while it lasts.”

“Perhaps.” You commented, secretly thinking that day couldn’t come close enough. Still it was only once, and you trusted Childe. He didn’t seem to like any of the Fatui anyways. Hopefully that would keep him from the fiasco of knocking down your door at 3:00.

But that didn’t stop him from doing it the next night, or the night after, or the night after. By night five you were absolutely done.

“Childe you have to stop this, you’re going to kill yourself the way you’re drinking.”

“You’re making too much of a fuss my dear,” Childe flitted his hand in the air as if batting away your concern, “if you think this is a lot you should see the sprees people go on in Snezhnaya. Honestly it’s only a little bit of fun, you know how hard it is to relax as a member of the Fatui in Liyue. Drinking buddies are hard to find, especially those who share my skill.”

“It’s more than a little bit of fun. Honestly Childe if I took this week by itself I’d think you were halfway to alcoholism! And I don’t appreciate you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, for fear you’d fall down the stairs if I left you and hurt yourself. It’s uncomfortable, seeing you so drunk.”

“Why?” Childe’s tone was still playful, but his eyes were narrowed slightly. Good. At least then he was listening to you.

“Have you ever interacted with a drunk person? Especially a drunk person on their fifth bender that week? It’s uncomfortable whether or not you know them and if you do it’s downright terrifying. Childe, I care about you and your health. And I’m begging you please stop these nights.”

“It’s fine.” Childe’s voice was growing harder by the moment. “I told you I can handle it, why do you have to pester so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

“Well maybe you should care a bit less.”

Childe stood up, making his way to the door. You knew that he was going to the Bank, knew that he was going to be out that night, but you said nothing. For now Childe’s sentence rang through your head. How could something so short be so painful. Shaking your head you moved to get your own equipment. Today was going to be a painful day.

You’d half expected the knock not to come, but sure enough it did. Turning to the clock you groaned inwardly. 3:45. Getting up you made your way to the door. Opening it you nearly slipped as your partner leaned on you. There was vodka on his breath and it made you feel as if you had no air. His words rattled through your head, refusing to leave since you’d first heard them. Maybe you should care a bit less. Fine, you would.

“Comrade?” Childe let out weakly. That was a new one. You made your way to the elevator and shoved him in there, making sure to angle it so he wouldn’t concuss himself.

“Get sober somewhere else.” And with that you slammed the button for the lobby floor, running out as the doors closed behind you. Childe made a strangled cry of protest but you didn’t care. You just wanted to sleep, and to forget. Maybe you should care less. Well why did it hurt to do so?

•

Childe squinted as a few rays of sun hit him square in the face. What was going on? Groaning he moved to reach for some blanket before realizing there was none. Shaking his head and ignoring the pounding headache that glanced right behind his eyelids he looked around. His mind was running as slow as it seemed possible to run but the minute it registered Childe felt himself flooded with embarrassment. A bench.

He was on a bench. Childe, Tartaglia, the Harbinger who had almost sunk Liyue. Said Harbinger was now sleeping on a bench, not because he’d fallen on hard times, not because of any reason that was understandable, but because he’d gotten too drunk to make it home.

No, not quite. Childe reached back into his memory, trying to piece together the night before. He had made it home, to your home, but you’d kicked him out. At first Childe felt a swell of irritation, but slowly but surely his memory caught up and he recalled the argument the morning before. He’d said something, hadn’t he. What was it?

Oh. Oh fuck.

Running back to your apartment he tried to straighten himself up, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious that he wasn’t nursing the worse sort of hangover. Damn he really relied on you. He relied on you and now he’d fucked up and now he needed to apologize.

Unfortunately his brain had only gotten that far so when you opened the door there was a bit of a pause, as he tried to think of what to say, words being drowned out by the pounding in his head.

“What do you want Childe?” You sighed, looking more depressed than anything. Childe felt a twinge of regret, but still the words wouldn’t come, not properly anyways, he must’ve still been a little drunk.

“I’m sorry.” Childe began, figuring that was the best way to go. “I’m sorry. Thank you and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you?” You tilted your head. “Are you sure you aren’t still drunk? I told you to sober up somewhere else.”

“Yes, I know, and I don’t know. But thank you for caring. And for looking after me. And I’m sorry.”

There was another pause, before you sighed.

“Come in.” You gestured, opening the door wider. Childe smiled weakly.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later. I want to see you straightened up. And I want you to stop drinking like that.”

“I will.” Childe promised, making his way to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to smash his face into a pillow. “Dottore was bad company anyways. Dear?”

“Yes?” You asked, still feeling a little shy. Perhaps you should’ve been more angry, but arguing always sat with you wrong. As did throwing Childe out.

“Thank you for caring.”

“You already said that.” You pointed out, finally cracking a smile, something that Childe mirrored, seeming somehow relieved.

“I know. But thank you.”

“Thank you for listening then.” You replied closing the blinds as Childe flopped onto the bed, sighing happily. “And thank you for forgiving me for kicking you out.”

“So callous.” Childe muttered, barely hearing your slight laugh as he drifted off to sleep.

 Xiao

You hadn’t wanted to fight, not at all. Your relationship was still so young after all, so raw, but you couldn’t help it. And now, as you watched Xiao disappear into thin air, you felt the sour taste of fear mixed with anger and regret. You’d almost forgotten really, how quickly an adeptus can vanish.

The point of contention had been your commissions. While Xiao said nothing against them verbally, you could tell that your newfound partner was dissatisfied by your constant comings and goings, something made worse by your recent string of long trips. And it had all come to a head when you announced you’d be gone a month, traveling into Inazuma via a covert nautical route – thank you Beidou – before delivering a few papers to the Monstadt embassy, most being passports and travel papers for diplomats who let theirs expire. Xiao had listened to the scheme, glared becoming more and more pronounced as you went on. And when you were done he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going.”

“What do you mean I’m not going?” You asked, confused.

“You aren’t going. For the love of the Seven, what kind of partner let’s their loved one smuggle themselves into a country with no chance of reprieve if something goes wrong and with no contact for a month? You aren’t going.”

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you replied, irritation quickly running through your voice, “it’s fine Xiao, many people have done this before. And we need to get those Liyue diplomats home. Honestly, I’m not sure why you aren’t proud of me, proud of what I’m doing.”

“Because you’re putting yourself in needless danger and breaking the law for a few people who I’m sure could do just fine themselves.”

“You can’t just keep me from being an Adventurer Xiao. You can’t keep me from doing my job.”

“I told you it’s because I care about you.”

“No, it’s because you’re putting yourself above the needs of both myself and your own land. Xiao, don’t you care about Liyue?”

“I care about the land,” his voice was like stone, and when you glanced into his eyes for a moment they seemed truly without empathy or care, the gaze of an adeptus who understood nothing of the human world, “humanity can rot.”

“I’m a human,” you pointed out, voice soft. “Don’t you care about me.”

For a moment recognition flitted through Xiao’s expression and he seemed almost regretful. Then his gaze hardened over once more.

“You aren’t going.” And with that he disappeared.

•

It took Xiao approximately ten minutes to regret the entire situation. Being angry for long periods of time wasn’t necessarily an alien emotion to Xiao – sometimes he felt as if he carried anger everywhere he went – but anger at you certainly was, and no sooner had it arrived then it was fading away, replaced instead with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

Why was he so upset? Was it really out of care for you? Yes, he decided, there was that aspect to it. But there was something more, something less noble. He was afraid, he was afraid for you. He was afraid you’d be arrested, or your ship would succumb to the open ocean, or you’d be betrayed, or…

Thoughts fluttered in and out of Xiao’s mind, each one more outlandish than the rest. Behind them said the same thing. He was afraid. You were right, he was afraid.

Did he care about humans? No, Xiao could say that with certainty. Not the way humans cared about each other, the way the humans cared about the adepti, when they thought about them. Xiao hadn’t cared for humans for a very long time. Even the karma that he kept from wreaking the land was exorcised, not because of humans, but because it was his duty. He didn’t care about humans, not really.

But he did care about you. He cared about you and he didn’t want to keep you from what you loved in return. Not like he didn’t know you would go do your mission anyways. You would do your mission and if Xiao wasn’t careful the weeks of cultivating an acquaintanceship, and friendship, and then more would be ruined. And he’d just be left, watching and waiting, wondering if you’d be alright.

Xiao was thankful that you hadn’t left the balcony of the Inn. Appearing before you he reached out to hug you before hesitating.

“You can go.” He murmured, knowing that wasn’t ever a question.

“I’m going.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared like that.” You frowned, but Xiao shook his head. Was that the worst he’d done?

“No, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t go. I’m sorry for not caring. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow in a familiar expression and Xiao nodded slightly. Hurrying to embrace him you shook your head, still not over what had just transpired so quickly.

“Your eyes were so cold.” You murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Xiao murmured again, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t be.” You replied. “Just, stay like this a little longer.” Xiao was all to happy to comply.

It was easy to forget Xiao was an adeptus sometimes, that he still had that side of him, those cold eyes, that brusque demeanor. But even if that sometimes threw you off, even if you argued and worried and regretted, it would all be fine in the end.

Because you’d always return to a familiar embrace, and a shared love.