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satorella · 3 days ago

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“𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥” [𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍]

You caught 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 attention at a soccer conference in Japan about a year ago, where you were hired to take pictures for the sports magazine you worked for. At first, it was just him being his usual arrogant and cocky self when he randomly gave you VIP tickets just because.

“Oh… uh… d-danke, Herr Kaiser…” [Thank you, Mr. Kaiser] You gave him a polite smile. He tilted his head, “Ah, you speak German?” “Just a little… enough for a tourist to get by.” You answered. He nodded and smirked, “Cheer for me, ja?” [Yes?] He pointed at the tickets in your hand as he turned to walk away. “Ja…” You gave an awkward little wave.

Neither of you had any idea where this would eventually lead though…

A couple days later, you woke up with your head throbbing, and Kaiser sleeping soundly next to you... naked under the sheets. You looked around, realizing you were in his hotel room, and both of your clothes were thrown carelessly all over the place; on the sofa, on the counter, the floor, your panties were even hanging on the damn lamp. Then it all started to come back to you. What was supposed to just be a few innocent glasses of champagne at the afterparty of his game, turned into a bit more… obviously. Once you came to, you slowly slipped out of his bed, searched for your clothes, and quietly left his room.

Fuuuuuck, did you really have a one night stand with Michael Kaiser?!?!

After a couple hours, you opened your suite door to...

"Guten Tag, Schöne." [Good day, beautiful.] Shit. "Herr Kaiser... hi... h-how'd you, um, know which room I was in?" You asked, looking both ways down the hallway. "I asked your little freund." [Friend.] He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway you left your, ah, kamera in my room. I figured you might want it back for work." He hands you your camera. "Oh! Danke!" You take the device. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I looked through some of the photos. I hope you don't mind." He finally says before leaning down to your ear, “I enjoyed seeing the ones from last night as well.” He whispers, making a shiver run down your spine. Pictures? From last night? The hell is this guy talking about? Confusion and curiosity etched on your face, you turned your camera on and clicked through the recent photos...

You, your colleagues, Kaiser and his team taking shots.

You and Kaiser pouring each other shots.

You sitting on Kaiser's lap.

You, and what looks like, grinding on Kaiser.

You, completely blissed out, taking a selfie with Kaiser kissing your neck.

You taking a picture with Kaiser in the elevator door's reflection; he stood behind you with his hands on your hips... while he was busy with your neck.

Kaiser leading you into his hotel room.

You, in Kaiser’s POV… sitting naked on the counter, eyes low and head thrown back as you laughed. (You honestly looked great in this pic… if it weren’t for you being naked😵‍💫)

Kaiser... taking body shots off you...

A mirror selfie with Kaiser positioned behind you... holding one of your legs up on the vanity... while he-

ALRIGHT, you got the point! You quickly shut off the camera and looked at anywhere else but him. He smirked, seeing how shy you suddenly got. "I-I'll, uh, delete these… don't worry..." You cleared your throat. "Just because you get rid of the evidence of our fuck-fest, doesn't mean I'll let you forget it." He shamelessly looks you up and down, "Are you free to do it again tonight?" You scoffed. The nerve of this guy!? "I-I'm not some bootycall, you perv! Du bist so ein perverser!" [You are such a pervert!] You whisper-yelled. He laughed at your attempt to insult him in his own language. "Really? But from what I can remember, all you could say was 'Micha! So gut! Bitte! Bitte mehr!' hm?" [So good! Please! Please more!] All the color drained from your face. “Okay. Guten Tag, und Auf Wiedersehen.” [Good day, and goodbye.] You tried to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand, “Nein. Wait.” [No. Wait.]

…And that’s how your love story all began. Annoying way to meet the love of your life, right? Agh! Aber du hast trotzdem gelernt, ihn zu lieben. 💆‍♀️ [Agh! But you still learned to love him.]

Ever since that day, he subconsciously started talking to you more and seeing you more at soccer conferences; country to country. You were the only foreigner that could actually understand him and have a decent conversation with him in his native tongue. (Not to mention, you kept each other company at night.) At games, he would casually search the crowd for your familiar pretty face, knowing you’d be there; rocking his jersey, waving and screaming his name. You showed up for him at every game, wherever it was. Even though he was still kind of an ass, your constant presence started to make him feel… something. Something he’s always wanted, but would never allow.

Kaiser wasn’t one to catch feelings. He’d usually cut out anything that would distract him from his goals. Nor does he really have that many friends due to his arrogant and rude personality. Sure, he has his team, but ehh. Then there was the thing going on with you. He actually didn’t mind having you around. You weren’t clingy and annoying like most women were. And he enjoyed the sex, of course. But after a while, he started to notice that things between you started to become something a little more than just sex. Even just talking to you became part of his daily routine. You guys met up to have breakfast/lunch/dinner together if you were in the same city, and FaceTimed if you weren’t. There were times where he just craved to hear your sweet voice after a gruesome day of practice. Craved to hear your stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, but it was really your laugh that he wanted to hear when he was having some depressing late night thoughts. God only knows why you still stick around. He’s insufferable half of the time, but here you were… choosing to deal with his bullshit.

All of it.

With time, you started to become the support system, the companionship, the patience, and the love he’s always wanted, needed, but was too prideful and damaged to ever ask for. You understood him. You were always there for him. And for once in his lonely life, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Currently, you and Kaiser were in his hotel room, massaging his scalp as he laid his head in your lap. You came to surprise him at one of his home games in his home country, Germany, after telling him just a few days ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

“I could have flown you out here, meine Schönheit. Tsk.” [My beauty.] He lightly scolds you. “But that would’ve ruined the surprise, ja?” You smiled. “Tsk.” He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to his neck, “Here. Massage me here.” He demanded. “So sassy, mein Schatz.” [My darling.] You chuckled, but did as he said, massaging over his blue rose tattoo. He closed his eyes. “Your touch, it’s relaxing, meine Liebe.” [My love.] He said, which was a little unusual. He was being sweet and focusing on you, rather than bragging about how his team wouldn’t have won without him; which was what he usually did after a win. You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead as a reply. You weren’t sure how to respond to that… without saying the wrong thing and risking ruining his good mood. He opened his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you. He pulled your head back down, capturing your lips in a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and caressed your cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Engel.” [I love you, Angel.] He said quietly, which was another rare occasion with Kaiser where he actually used his words to express his feelings. “And I love you.” You smiled, hovering your lips over his, “Are you okay?” “Ah, meine Liebe. I’m alright, just… tired from playing.” He said as he reached up to move a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were scanning your face, watching every expression and detail. “I’m glad you’re here...” He ran his thumb over your cheek, “I can always count on you.” He sat up and pulled you on top of him, his hands moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him.

“Michael!” You gasped as you felt his semi-hard poking the inside of your thigh. “I thought you said you were tired?” “I said tired from playing, mein Liebling. Not in other activities.” You playfully rolled your eyes. Ah, now you understand why he’s being so lovey dovey… he’s horny! He chuckled in his rough German accent as his hands began to roam your body. “I missed you these last few weeks.” “Ja, I can see that… or I mean, feel it.” You snickered. “Ah, mein Engel. Du bist so wunderschön.” [My Angel. You are so beautiful.] He praised you as he gave your jawline soft kisses. He grunted a little when he felt your lower half grind against him, causing him to squeeze the plush fat of your ass under your denim skirt. He wanted to be gentle, but that’s proving to be quite difficult for him right now. He needed you. “Mein Engel, bitte. Lass mich dich lieben.” [My Angel, please. Let me love you.] He pleaded quietly as his hands continued to roam your body, slowly lifting his jersey off of you. “Ich will dich.” [I want you.] You let the jersey fall to the ground, tilting your head to the side as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you throb at your core.

Kaiser turned, laying you down on the sofa and positioning himself in between your legs. “Ich liebe dich.” [I love you.] He murmured as his lips began to trail down your neck, down your chest. He took one breast in his mouth, and sucked on your hardened nub. You let out a whimper, arching into him, practically smooshing your chest in his face. His tattooed hand journeyed down your body. “So Schön.” [So beautiful.] He hissed, pushing your legs open wider for him to have more room. He wasted no time in bunching your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side, dragging a finger up your slit, collecting your slick. His finger began tracing circles around your entrance before slowly pushing it inside you. “Ah, du bist so feucht für mich…” [You are so wet for me…] “Hnngh!” You moaned, nails digging into the sofa. “Komm für mich. Be the good girl I know you are.” [Come for me.] He murmured against your skin, lightly nipping you in random places. He inserted another finger in you, pumping at a slow, but good, pace and curling them both slightly to rub that sweet spot that always had you seeing stars. “M-Micha!” You whined, writhing beneath him. “Let yourself go on my fingers…” He said, his voice low and raspy. And like the good girl you were for him, you did as he said. As always. You shut your eyes as you came on his long, thick fingers; panting and moaning his name. He grabbed your chin during the middle of it with his free hand and forced you to face him. “Look at me.” He demands. Your eyes fluttered open, trying to stop them from rolling back from pure ecstasy. “That’s it. There’s my girl.” He lets you ride out your high, before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

He reached between you to pull the knot on his robe loose, and lets it fall on the floor next to the jersey, then positions himself at your entrance. “Ich brauche dich...” [I need you...] He whispers as he pushes into you, letting out a deep groan and grunting. “Gott, du bist so eng.” [God, you’re so tight.] You let out a louder moan at the stretch, your nails digging even more into the sofa. He slowly slid out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeper. Harder.

“So gut...” [So good...]

Fuck, maybe you two should spend time apart more often.

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14dayswithyou · 2 days ago

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How cutiesai made 14 Days With You

I've received quite a few requests in the past asking how I made 14DWY, what resources I used, how I organised my lore, etc. — so I figured I'd make one big post and share it with everyone else as well! It features a buuunch of helpful stuff I wish I'd known when I first made 14DWY, so hopefully this will help others too!

⚠ This is all copied & pasted from a Discord post I made back in early 2024! I'll also be adding to it over time, so feel free to check back every so often! ^^

What engine do I use?

14DWY uses the Ren'Py engine!

There are two preinstalled games (called "Tutorial" and "The Question") that give you a basic rundown on how to use the program!!

Zeil Learning's video called "Ren'py Tutorial For Beginners" is also a good place to start for those who have no idea where to begin with Ren'Py!

I also really recommend these Ren'Py resources:

Lemma Soft Forums

Ren'Py Discord server

Ren'Py subreddit

Zeil Learnings, ElaineDoesCoding, Visual Novel Design, and Ess Ren'Py Tutorials on YouTube

Searching through the "Ren'Py" tag on itch.io for community-made assets and resources (make sure to give credit if you use someone's asset(s))!

Feniks and Wattson offer some really helpful stuff!!

Not Ren'Py related, but helpful for creating a VN:

Obsidian and Notion for planning and worldbuilding

Visual Studio Code and Atom (comes preinstalled with Ren'Py iirc?) for scripting/coding

Pixabay and Pexels for royalty-free images and stock photos

DOVA-SYNDROME for music

Clip Studio Paint (paid) and Krita (free) for drawing

Toyhou.se to store your littol guys (If you need an invite code, I have over 300 to give away lmao ^^ Send in an ask to @cutiesigh if you'd like one!)

An itch.io account to upload your game for free and share it with others

General tips to keep in mind:

Make games for fun, not for fame. Too often, I see new developers create VNs with "trending tropes" because they see how successful it is and want the same level of popularity. As harsh as it sounds, this only makes your game feel hollow and superficial, and players will notice.

When using Ren'Py, it's better to have multiple .rpy files rather than putting everything into one large file!! It makes organising and finding things easier, and if something gets corrupted... at least you won't lose everything!

Plan everything beforehand, but give yourself room to expand and implement new ideas.

Start small and slowly expand over time. Don't start off with an overly ambitious project, as it can be disheartening when you put all this effort into something just for it not to gain any traction. Also, be grateful for your earliest supporters, as they're the ones who will lift your project off the ground!!

This is a personal preference, but I recommend starting off with itch.io as your main distribution platform. Most storefronts take a cut from your donations and revenue, and sites like Steam require a $100 fee just to publish your game on their platform. Itch is free, and you can even toggle off revenue sharing in your profile settings! (I like to keep it at 10% though, because I'm grateful for everything the site provides ♡)

If you ever need help with Ren'Py, you're always welcome to join the 14DWY Discord server and ping me in the help channel!

#💖 — 14 days with queue.#🖤 — shut up sai.#to be tagged later #faq

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joejhang · 2 days ago

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my problem with raven!neil

this may be controversial but i've actually found that i don't rlly like raven!neil fics and aus. and here is my thesis. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

crucial distinction here is that i don't actually dislike the concept of "raven!neil" as an individual character concept. i think it's actually very interesting to look into the sort of person neil would be if things had been slightly different. that is, obviously, the point of au fics and headcanons. my actual problem with raven!neil is mostly when fic writers and the fandom in general put him in context and into au fics and then the problems start arising. i'm being purposefully vague but i'm gonna go into all the problems i've come across when it comes to raven!neil.

first off, and this is something i've mentioned before, i think the fandom tends to strip abuse victims (particularly the characters who got out of the nest) of literally any agency or individuality. this happened with jean, when the whole fandom seemed to collectively uwufy him as if he isn't an adult (yes he's young yes he's barely an adult but he IS and i would argue thinking of him as a child still does him no good) with massive amounts of trauma. yes, jean has a learned fear of riko and tetsuji (and coaches by extension bc of the abuse from raven coaches) but he actually doesn't harbour much fear towards anyone else? he has come to expect violent retribution/punishment and does sort of have this problem where he bares his throat for the knife (when he puts the racquet in rhemann's hands and when he expects laila to hit him back) but other than that he actually doesn't demonstrate a lot of fear or panic when engaging with others.

i think the same would go for neil. the neil in current canon quite literally has no fears that do not trace back to his father. he doesn't fear riko, tetsuji, ichirou, andrew, drake or even lola and his father's men. where he does show fear is whenever his father gets involved. he isn't afraid of riko or anything riko has to say until riko brings nathan wesninski into it. the closest thing he comes to fear for anyone else is when he flinches from wymack but i'd call that survival instinct rather than like...fear. he doesn't have much of an emotional response, just an instinctual and physical one.

we obviously have no idea how neil's fear would develop if he had grown up at the nest. i'm not sure how much of a difference it would've made, honestly. obviously, those eight years on the run heavily reinforced his fear, so i don't really know where that fear would go if he was stagnant at the nest and confirmed (?) to be safe from his father. i think one of neil's key personality traits actually is his bravery and fearlessness, so i can't really see neil ever being truly afraid of tetsuji and riko. if you want to compare jean and neil in this aspect, all i'd say is: people have different responses for trauma. neil is not jean 2.0 or vice versa. even if they were put in virtually the same environment with the same treatment, they are still different people with different personalities. thus, they respond in different ways. just like jean and kevin responded in different ways, though their situations are implied to have been very different.

besides the point of fear and object of fear, i don't actually think being afraid of ur abusers means ur a baby that should be coddled and uwufied by the fandom. it's actually completely normal and human, so i actually have no clue why the fandom decided to do this with jean.

as someone in the tags of one of my previous posts so aptly said, autonomy ≠ agency. did kevin and jean have autonomy in the nest? no. but they did have agency. stripping abuse victims of agency and personality is actually so harmful and i think it's way too normalised in fandom culture. but that's a discussion for another day. we've all heard the comparison of the fear responses in relation to andrew (fight), neil (flight), kevin (freeze) and jean (fawn). i actually think these are mostly accurate, but it doesn't do any good to simplify it so completely.

neil having to remain sedentary rather than running away and never stopping or looking back is inevitably going to alter his responses to situations. neil's knee-jerk reaction to traumatic events or news in the og trilogy is literally: go on a run. this might still be the case in the nest, but i doubt it. i've said before that i think neil is the type of person to fight back. u could argue in response to that that jean was also fierce and angry when he got to the nest but developed something akin to learned helplessness where he simply stopped fighting back as a trauma response. but again: neil and jean are not the same person. they may have similar personalities, but everyone is different. you can't boil down all the victims of a particular abusive situation into the same person. this is stripping them of agency and individuality, once again. jean learned to stop fighting back and even ask for violent punishment for "wrongdoing" but i honestly don't think neil would. again, not because he's superior or inferior to jean, he's just a different person entirely. his time at evermore in trk was effectively a trial run for the time that riko intended neil to spend there after the year ended. we don't know exactly, but it's probably safe to assume that riko tried to cram as much of the abuse that kevin and jean received over several years into those two/three weeks. i mean, neil got fucking waterboarded and handcuffed to the bed for fuck's sake. i think at some point neil does say that he bowed his head and played at subservience, but when it really came down to riko and tetsuji trying to force neil to do something he adamantly did not want to do (sign the raven's contract) he literally just refused and didn't relent even under torture. jean even said he thought riko might've killed neil for it. neil was literally ready to die rather than bend to riko's will.

obviously, things would be different with kevin and jean in the equation. i can see neil reining himself in for their sake, but this brings me to another issue i have with raven!neil. and that is the strange need to turn neil into a protector figure. i.e. a human meat shield with a martyr complex for kevin and jean. every time i sense any iteration of this in any fic or hc i literally have to stop reading. it's just so...like random to me. neil has literally not been a "protector" in canon in fact he's almost always the one being "protected" (andrew's deal to literally protect neil from his father, wymack and abby's protectiveness, etc). yes, neil has protective instincts but so does literally every human being. neil is, in my opinion, no more or less protective than anyone else. compare this to say, andrew, who is known for his role as the "protector" (beating up the guys who hurt nicky, killing aaron's mother + getting rid of his addiction, making deals w kevin + neil). i've also written another extensive essay about why neil isn't and will never be the martyr or sacrificial lamb that some ppl seem to want him to be, so i won't go into it here. just please please please read the series back and realise: neil is quite literally the opposite of a martyr. i just have no idea where the idea of neil as a martyr or protective figure came in. especially in regards to kevin and jean.

it bears noting the first time neil meets riko with kevin there. at kathy's, neil doesn't hesitate to defend kevin and clock riko's shit. but note: defending ≠ protecting. and even if you do want to call that protecting, neil's way of "protecting" has never been in a martyring, self-sacrificial, human shield way. he is almost always on the offensive (clocking riko rather than directly defending kevin, punching riko, etc etc). neil is a natural instigator, and it would be such a disservice to him to erase that characteristic of his in raven!neil fics.

there are also several times in the series where neil's offensive actions have consequences that directly impact his loved ones and other people. like the first time neil insulted riko, a man literally died. the second time, drake attacked andrew. the third, neil took a trip to hell on earth and spent three weeks at evermore. the fourth, the foxes' and other athletes' cars got trashed. there's probably more that i'm not remembering, but you get the idea. neil feels guilt but never regret for this. he literally says verbatim that he isn't sorry for what he said about riko/the ravens even after the cars get wrecked and the others seem to blame him. so while i can see neil ducking his head and submitting to prevent jean/kevin getting hurt, it's also worth noting that if neil really cared that much about consequences, he probably would've stopped openly and loudly insulting riko in public after seth was murdered the first time. neil knew, or at least had a hunch, that it was his fault. did that stop him from doing it again? hell no. it can be both a character flaw and strength, but it's also just a fact. neil does not think that much about consequence. he sort of just does what he wants when he wants. it's a part of his personality. while there's no telling what about his personality would've changed at the nest, the fact that ten years living with a mob boss serial killer and eight years on the run from said mob boss serial killer didn't seem to kill that mouth of his, idk what would.

my final point is that when the raven!neil fic has andreil in it, it turns into andrew "saving" neil from his situation. words can't explain how much i hate this take on things. especially when it usually comes out of nowhere as well. bfr, andrew is not gonna risk his life to "save" some pretty redhead that comes his way without some pre-established connection. i also just think the idea of a "saviour" in a relationship is actually insane. as someone who is consistently pissed off and triggered by imbalance in relationships, this irritates me to no end. andreil obviously are protective and care for each other. that's a known fact. but i feel like w raven!neil fics they tend to exaggerate this and make it insanely one-sided. like andrew is some superhero type figure that needs to save damsel-in-distress neil who has a penchant for out-of-character martyrdom and is trapped in a horribly abusive situation. it sounds like i'm just hyperbolising no this is actually in all of the raven!neil fics that i've read. this exact dynamic. i hate it oh my god. it's not only entirely out of character i don't even think it works for them. like this should not be what their relationship is about or based off of. this last bit might just be a personal thing but i just hate hate hate it and it feels so wrong to force andreil into this kind of a dynamic. just leave my boys alone i'm BEGGING.

the aftg fandom does have this problem that should be addressed where they tend to coddle and uwufy abuse victims (particularly kevin, neil and jean in the context of the nest) and strip them down to easily digestible stereotypes. but this literally could not be further from the truth in canon. y'all forget how actually bitchy neil, jean and kevin are as individuals. kevin's fear of riko and tetsuji is bone-deep, but that never stopped him from picking fights with the foxes and hitting back whenever they had a problem w him (the only exception being andrew, but kevin already said, he lets andrew walk him like a dog out of sort-of thanks that andrew is letting him stay at psu). jean is also sort of an asshole (affectionate) back in the og trilogy and lowk in tsc too. he has a seemingly endless supply of insults for literally everyone and literally thinks about breaking jeremy's fingers for treating him too warily. he consistently gets annoyed when the trojans are too careful with him and remember when he literally threw jeremy to the floor during practice? yeah. seriously, stop boiling down these very traumatised individuals to their fear and history of abuse and erase any other part of their personality that makes them an interesting, well-rounded individual. it's so irritating to read and have to deal with the gross misinterpretation and mischaracterisation of these very well-loved characters. they deserve better, and these things also bely some very pertinent issues within fandom culture at large that should be talked about and critiqued more. jesus this is long anyway thank you for reading.

#yapping should be like an actual job #i don't actually think anything i said here is a hot take it's literally all fact-based or common sense #PLEASE hear me out on this #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #the sunshine court #tsc #jean moreau #kevin day #raven!neil #zoe yaps #aftg fics #aftg fic #andrew minyard #andreil

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utilitycaster · 2 days ago

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something that struck me from some of the really good tags on this post (specifically the "tall kings") one is that most arguments against the gods or for the benefit of Predathos rely on real-world metaphors that just...don't really fit very well, and it might just be that this isn't something for which one can draw a real world metaphor, but might actually have to conceive a world that is fundamentally different than ours. The gods aren't tall kings; "destroying the throne" does not mean a coup. It means their deaths; and yes, to state the obvious a coup against a monarchy frequently involves assassinating the monarch, but it's telling that the language is carefully skirting around that. You cannot destroy the throne or remove the crown or have the gods step down in any peaceful manner; both the Matron and Arch Heart agree this only happens if the threat of Predathos is unleashed.

And Predathos. Setting aside the connotations of assigning the idea of wild deer to sentient beings, the "reintroduction of the natural predator" metaphor collapses on several points. The first is that equating "became deities, who, as the post linked above points out and per general lore, are explicitly not able to run rampant anymore". The second is that Predathos is not a wolf that once lived on Exandria but is just as foreign to the world as the gods themselves. While I reject the metaphor entirely for the initial reasons stated, it is worth keeping in mind that if you do need it as a scaffolding on which to hang foreign concepts, Predathos is less the wolf population and more a family of tigers or cheetahs: just as much an invasive species, with an impact on the environment

I think these are two major issues that need to be addressed in any conversation:

Predathos has been adopted and mythologized by several party members who are actually much more concerned about the titans, who are dead. Killing the gods will not bring back the titans. I feel this metaphor is sort of falling into that same trap; this is not a return of something native to this world.

On some level, while I understand the use of real-world metaphors to comprehend a fantasy world from a lens of familiarity - I do this as well! - I think if we cannot have a discussion that starts with "what if Predathos is in fact the embodiment of a cosmic, unending, merciless hunger that cannot be changed and cannot be swayed and can only be sealed, killed, or given free rein" we cannot have a discussion at all. I think it's necessary to acknowledge we're talking about a game that gives you a space to explore an idea as if it were physical, and which might not be able to be told within the bounds of real-world experience.

This of course also doesn't address the ongoing issue of "whether or not Bells Hells actions towards Predathos and the outcome ends up being in the moral right, the road to get here was structurally unsound and the party did not go in with the intent of doing anything specific whatsoever and indeed faltered for the most part when asked by the main villain what they wanted." Again, I don't care if Bells Hells are heroes or villains or something in between, but they don't seem to be anything or have any shared intention as a group, which I've discussed already here. But if you do want to argue that releasing Predathos could be good, I think it's necessary to have a coherent argument there, and be able to address "what if it's really fucking bad" if we're moving into the realm of the speculative. "What if this change that comes at the end of mass death might be better for the world but I have no proof" is not a very convincing argument. It is, in fact, one of the only ones Bells Hells has made a compelling case against.

#cr discourse #i am trying to pull back a bit on the rhetoric but i feel like i'm watching people fall and somehow hit every single stair on the way down

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xechu · 2 days ago

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[Devour] Chapter 2: Yearning

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.

Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna

Summary: Sukuna brings you back to a temple, where he resides. There you also meet Uraume. You begin to doubt if running away was the best idea, but then, Sukuna offers to be your ally. Unbeknownst to you, he has his own ulterior motives for helping you.

A/N: It's here! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Since this is a mini series, I would say we're already about 35% through the story, things will progress quickly in the upcoming chapters. Based on my planning, I'm looking at about four more chapters. I don't have an exact release date for Chapter 3 like I did with this chapter, but I'll post an update when it's almost complete! If you would like to be added on the tag list for this series, please let me know/leave a comment here. Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x

Masterlist: < Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 (To be continued) >

Sukuna had always deemed love meaningless. It was a feeling that held people back, making them irrational and reckless. Over the years, he had witnessed the greatest kingdoms burn and the strongest men fall, all in the name of 'love.' But the tragedy lay in the fact that, after all was said and done, that love seldom lasted. At the end of the day, people were weak and fickle, rendering love volatile. He often wanted to ask those who sacrificed everything for love: Was it all worth it in the end?

In order to attain his height of power—to become the strongest—Sukuna had given up everything, including his humanity. He had mastered the art of detachment, for attachments only served to tie one down. Letting go of all things was the inevitable cost of power, but it was an easy and insignificant sacrifice for someone like him—who had nothing to lose in the first place.

Yet, despite the King of Curses' strong convictions, there remained one glaring contradiction in his life: you. No matter how hard he tried, he could not detach himself from you. Even after all these years, his burning desire for you was a flame he could not quell, and it only seemed to grow hungrier with time.

Throughout the years, Sukuna had conditioned himself into believing that you were always going to be an unattainable dream—a fantasy that was never meant to become reality. It was better that it remained this way. You deserved to live a peaceful life, and he could continue to live out his days as the King of Curses without restraint.

But what should he do—now that his dream had become reality?

For someone with a wretched life like his, he never believed in any gods. But for the first time in his life, the King of Curses acknowledged that this reunion must have been the universe's divine will—a preordained fate. It seemed that the two of you were destined to be together.

Yes, he thought to himself, since the universe has willed it, then you shall be his exception.

He vowed that as long as he kept you by his side, you would not be a source of his weakness.

At this realization, a dark possessiveness took over him.

This time he would stake his claim.

---

Though you were no longer the little girl Sukuna had once met, he couldn't help but notice how small you were under his hold. Some things didn't change; you were still his little flower.

“It’s me, flower,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice as if he were calling into your subconscious, imploring you to remember.

You trembled in his embrace; the adrenaline coursing through you made it difficult to think straight. His words did not register as you struggled to gather your chaotic thoughts, while your mind screamed at you to run.

You remind me of flowers. The voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

“R-Ryo?” you gasped, finally making the connection.

With shaking hands, you roamed his figure, seeking confirmation in the darkness. Your fingertips softly brushed over his features. Was this a dream? Had you already died? How was it that after all these years, he was finally here—especially in your most dire moment? The surrealness of this situation felt too good to be true.

“I-It really is you,” your voice quivered with emotion. “I-I can't believe it. All this time... I thought I would never see you again."

“I'm here now, flower,” he said, capturing your hand in his. “Come with me; it’s not safe.”

Before you could utter another word, he effortlessly scooped you up, and you instinctively held on to him, tightening your grip, afraid that if you let go he would slip away again.

Sukuna traversed the forest at an inhuman speed. He seemed to know the terrain well, navigating it with ease, but for you, all you saw was unending darkness; the gust of wind threading through your hair was the only sign that you were moving. Your heart raced as he cradled you against his strong body; you could feel the heat radiating from him, evoking a warm and familiar feeling within you—a feeling that you have yearned for so many years.

Moments later, you found yourself in a clearing. Under the clear night sky, vast greenery and towering mountains loomed around you. At the foot of one mountain, a grand tree stood beside an ancient temple. Sukuna gently set you on your feet, and now that you were out in the clearing, you could get a better look at him. Standing before you was no longer the little boy from your memories; he had transformed into a formidable man—perhaps the largest person you had ever seen. He wore an oversized kimono, his bare chest exposed, and his muscular build attested to the life he had lived throughout the years. Your gaze was then drawn to the unmistakable bloodstains on his clothing.

“Are you hurt?” your brows furrowed in concern as your hand ghosted over the stains.

“Nothing worth fretting over; they do not belong to me,” he said, a smile involuntarily curving his lips at the concern you displayed.

Sukuna lifted your chin to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, he could see you with much more clarity.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of longing evident in his eyes.

Heat rushed to your face at his touch, but you were grateful that the night concealed it.

“How did you know to find me?" you quietly asked.

“The forest and the mountain are my domain,” Sukuna replied, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, as if he was trying to engrave your features into his memory. “You were lucky I found you before something else did.”

Something in your gut told you it couldn't have been mere coincidence, but you decided to keep that thought to yourself. It wasn't the time nor the place for interrogations.

"I see," you smiled wearily. "Thank you... you saved me yet again."

Your words stirred a nostalgic memory within him.

As you continued to stand there in silence, the brave facade you had been putting up began to crumble. All the events that had led you to this moment settled within you, and the feelings you had long suppressed surged to the surface—grief, resentment, confusion, fear, relief, yearning—a tempest you could no longer keep at bay.

“All these years, I’ve been searching for you,” your voice cracked, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I know," he replied, his tone low and hushed.

“Y-You did?"

Sukuna nodded.

"Then why, Ryo? Did you not want to see me?” Your chest tightened at his admission, and tears began to roll down your face.

“It was for the best.” Sukuna's jaw clenched. The sight of you crying evoked a sense of dread within him.

“The best for who?”

A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words.

“That no longer matters, flower. We're here now, and I won't let you go again,” he said, gently wiping a stray tear from your face.

You knew he was hiding something from you, but that mattered little right now. Your body reacted before your mind, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

---

Wooden floors creaked beneath you as you crossed the threshold of the temple, and an inexplicable wave of energy washed over you. It was intense yet comforting, like the warmth of the sun—like him.

The temple was small and modest, but it felt peaceful and comfortable. It was also evident that the wooden interior had been well-maintained despite how ancient it was. The air was filled with the soothing scents of incense and cedarwood.

The earlier conversation with Sukuna loomed over you, leaving so many questions unanswered. While you could still sense a semblance of the little boy within him, he also felt unfamiliar and distant; after all, so much time had passed. You longed to know everything about him, to fill in the gaps, but perhaps that would have to wait.

As you took a closer look around the main hall, your eyes wandered to the beautifully crafted sliding doors at the back, which were fully open to reveal a serene garden that captivated you with its lush greenery and vibrant flowers.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.

Sukuna looked at you under the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the hall, and your heart began to race under his gaze amid the intimacy of the setting. He watched you intently as if he could hear the intense beating of your heart—

“Sukuna-sama, you’re back,” a gentle voice cut through the air.

You turned to find a young person standing there. Their gender was ambiguous, but their appearance reminded you of winter's first snowfall. They exuded a calm and serene presence.

“Uraume,” Sukuna acknowledged, gesturing toward you. “She is with me. Draw her a bath and prepare some fresh clothes. I’ll get a fire started.”

“Yes, Sukuna-sama,” Uraume replied, hastily leaving for the back of the temple.

You watched as Sukuna stripped off his kimono, revealing his muscular upper body adorned with tattoos.

“Ryo, where are you going?” you asked, trying to mask the fluster in your voice.

Sukuna turned back to look at you with a smile. “I’m going to hunt some game. We’ll fill our stomachs before going to bed.”

---

The warmth of the hot spring quickly melted away the stress of the day. You still could not wrap your head around the uncanny turn of events; it felt like a nightmare turned dream. Instead of being married to Lord Yamamoto, you were now reunited with the one person who had always occupied your thoughts. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you reached for a washcloth to gently remove your makeup. You knew that there would be other matters to address later, but for now, you wanted to savor this brief respite.

Sinking the lower half of your head into the water, you blew small bubbles, and images of Sukuna and the man he had become flashed in your mind, sending a warmth throughout your body.

Sukuna's renown had been spreading in recent years, and you were acutely aware of his reputation. Whispers surrounded him, calling him the King of Curses—the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the era. There was much debate over whether he was merely a man or a deity, while others believed him to be a demon in disguise. Your village, having a strong aversion to jujutsu sorcery, viewed it as more of a curse than a gift and seemed to believe he was nothing short of a demon.

Regardless, you had only ever known him as Ryo, so you never gave much thought to the rumors. Man, deity, or demon—whatever he was, you would have accepted him unconditionally. Despite the time apart, you still felt an inexplicable tether to him.

I won't let you go again.

Those words stirred an emotion within you when he had initially spoken them, but doubts and hesitation lingered in your mind. Had it not been for your current predicament, you would have been more inclined to stay with him.

You held your breath and submerged yourself entirely beneath the warm water, hoping to silence these chaotic thoughts—even if just for a moment.

---

Feeling refreshed as you stepped out of the temple in a new set of clothes, you noticed that a fire had already been started and that Uraume was preparing some vegetables.

“Uraume-san,” you smiled as you walked over, “is there anything I can help you with?”

“Y/N-san,” Uraume exclaimed, a gentle light in their eyes. “All the preparations are nearly complete. Why don’t you sit by the fire first? Sukuna-sama should be back soon.”

You hesitated and looked to see if there was still anything to help with, but noticing how there was not much else, you acquiesced and made your way to the fire. You watched in awe as Uraume skillfully finished the last touches of their work. Soon after, they settled down beside you. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, accompanied by the crackling of the fire.

“Have you and Ryo always lived here?” you tried to make conversation.

Uraume nodded, their expression thoughtful. “We’ve lived here for quite some time. I owe him my life.”

You looked at Uraume, curiosity piqued.

“I was at death’s door when he found me as a child,” Uraume confessed softly. “He took me under his wing.”

“He’s always been kind.” You smiled contemplatively.

“Yes,” Uraume agreed. There was a brief pause. “He…has also mentioned you before.”

“He has?”

Uraume nodded. “He said there was once a girl he met who lived in a village not too far from here. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and she reminded him of flowers. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl.”

It warmed your heart to know that he had spoken about you, but it also felt bittersweet.

“Ah, he’s back,” Uraume remarked, glancing behind you.

Your eyes widened at the spectacular sight before you. Sukuna had a deer slung over his shoulder, effortlessly making his way toward the two of you; he trekked as if the deer weighed nothing.

Sukuna dropped the deer by the fire, and Uraume instinctively got up, ready to prepare the meat. You watched as Sukuna slashed the deer's throat, collecting the blood in a bowl. A wave of queasiness washed over you, and you looked away, unable to face the brutal sight. Sukuna settled down beside you while Uraume got to work, efficiently cutting up the rest of the deer.

“Drink every last drop,” he commanded, handing the bowl to you.

“I—I don't think I can,” you put your hand out in defense, the metallic stench making your stomach churn.

“You are malnourished,” he said, grabbing your wrist to examine its size. “Have you not been looking after yourself?”

“I have,” you insisted, attempting to wiggle your wrist free from his grasp. His touch felt searing against your skin.

“You will drink this, unless you would like me to feed you,” Sukuna insisted, handing you the bowl once more, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for argument.

You took the bowl in both hands, trembling slightly. As you watched the thick red liquid swirl inside, you held your breath and brought it to your lips, tilting it ever so slightly and allowing the liquid to slip into your mouth and down your throat. Just as you were about to lower the bowl, Sukuna's hand clasped over yours, tilting the bowl upward to ensure you finished everything.

“That’s it, flower—every last drop,” he said, his voice low and steady. When he was satisfied that you had consumed all of it, he released his grip and took the bowl from your hands. You gagged at the aftertaste, coughing as a trickle of blood ran down your chin. Sukuna's eyes grew dark at the sight; he wiped the blood from your chin with his thumb, then licked it clean.

“Ryo—!” you gasped, teary-eyed. “N-no more of that, please.”

“That will depend on how well you eat,” a hint of playfulness threaded through his voice.

“Do you drink this too?” you asked, clearing your throat.

"Of course, the blood of a deer is a highly nutritious delicacy. Did you know in some places, it is a drink shared by a married couple on their wedding night?" Sukuna smirked.

You shudder at the thought. This blood drinking experience was something that you hoped would be your first and last. But the slight implication that Sukuna made at the end also made you a bit shy.

Uraume handed a plate of skewered meat to Sukuna, and you marveled at how quickly they had prepared it. You watched as Sukuna stabbed each skewer into the ground by the fire, your attention lingering on the flames that seemed to beckon you.

"I should have whisked you away from the village earlier, had I known you were not being fed properly." Sukuna intently watched you with one of his eyes, sensing your tension.

"Well, why didn't you?" you muttered. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it.

You were sure he had his reasons for staying away, yet you couldn’t hide your disappointment in him for keeping his distance. So much precious time had been lost, and so many what-ifs lingered in your mind.

It was juvenile, but you often dreamt of how the two of you would grow up together—an inseparable duo, the best of friends. Then, when you came of age, he would have asked you to follow him, and you would have gladly followed him anywhere. The two of you would travel all over the land, experiencing the world side by side. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, he would have asked you to marry him, and you would have said 'yes' without skipping a beat—

"Come now, don't sulk, flower," Sukuna said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "You're here now. We will make up for lost time."

"You speak as if I'm going to be staying here for good," you couldn't help but challenge him a little.

It might have been your imagination, but you thought his expression darkened for a split second.

"It sounds like you have somewhere to go then."

"I—well, I didn’t have too much time to think details. But I planned to make my way to a far out village, where no one will be able to find me."

"That would be difficult," Sukuna hummed.

"It’s worth a try… better than yielding to the fate I was subjugated to." You hugged your knees.

"Enlighten me, what was someone’s bride doing in the middle of the forest?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

There was a hesitation in telling him about your plight, but you knew it was also an unavoidable topic—after all, he had saved you, so an explanation was due at the very least.

“I ran away… from a marriage I wanted no part of.”

“How bold,” he chuckled. “It’s very like you.”

“It’s hardly a laughing matter, Ryo,” you huffed, anxiety evident in your voice.

“But you've successfully escaped. Should this not be a cause to celebrate?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“I don't know if I would consider it successful just yet," you narrowed your eyes. "I didn’t just run away from any man; I ran away from a lord. My village hoped to leverage my marriage with Lord Yamamoto for aid. There will be repercussions for my actions.”

Sukuna listened as he rotated the skewers.

"Hm, I suppose that is quite the predicament. Whatever shall you do then?" His question came out more like a taunt than a show of concern.

"Are you mocking my situation?" You frowned, your expression dropping as self-doubt crept in. You had to admit that you'd been reckless with your decision, and you didn't exactly have a reliable plan. You wouldn’t have even made it out of the forest had it not been for Sukuna.

“Of course not. Don't look so defeated," he softly tsked, smoothing the crease between your brows with his fingers.

You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

"Is there any reason for you to worry if I am going to be by your side?" he returned your gaze, a burning confidence in his eyes.

“It’s not so simple, Ryo. I don’t want you to be caught in my problems—”

“A mere lord and your measly village is not a problem,” Sukuna replied, passing a skewer to you.

You reluctantly accepted the skewer, your fingers momentarily brushing against his hand during the exchange. As divine as the meat smelled, you couldn't bring yourself to eat; your worries and anxiety loomed large over your head.

"It's not going to eat itself if you keep staring at it," Sukuna sighed, crossing his four arms and giving you a stern look.

Taking a tiny bite, your eyes momentarily lit up. It tasted even better than it smelled. Before you knew it, you had devoured the entire skewer, and Sukuna was already handing you another one. Perhaps you were hungrier than you had thought, but his pleased expression did not escape you—he cared, and that alone filled you with immense happiness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It's not about what I want," you shook your head. "What if something happens to both of you because of me?"

"You needn't worry about us, Y/N-san; we are more than capable of dealing with Lord Yamamoto," Uraume smiled at you. Their gentle reassurance only seemed to amplify your guilt.

"We can't be sure of that—"

“Are you not aware of what they call me?”

You sighed, a sense of apprehension filling your chest. "I am..."

“Then if you know my reputation, you should understand that even if Lord Yamamoto and his entire arsenal, along with your village, were to descend upon us right now, they would not stand a chance.”

Sukuna seemed adamant about helping, but that only served to heighten your uneasiness. It wasn't that you doubted his capabilities; but you also understood that your actions would have dire consequences. A runaway bride of Lord Yamamoto wasn't a matter that would be overlooked so easily. Surely, the four men who had escorted you had reported back to their lord that you had escaped. Even if Sukuna could easily deal with them, he would be branded a criminal—forever having to be on the run. He had endured enough hardships in his life, and it felt like you were only adding to his strife. You didn't deserve this kindness from him; his life was fine before you came along.

"This will be your home. You will be safe as long as you stay by my side. So stay here, Y/N.” An unexpected possessiveness laced Sukuna's voice.

You looked up at Sukuna in surprise; you had never heard him call your name before. His eyes silently pleaded with you to stay—shattering your resolve.

"Tell me you need my help, flower," Sukuna urged, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

A lingering silence filled the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Help me, Ryo…" you finally said.

---

You hadn't felt so full in a long time. Sukuna had ensured you ate your share of food before retiring to bed. Following behind him, you were led to your sleeping accommodations, and to your surprise, he took you into his chamber, which overlooked a small private garden and hot spring.

The temple was modest in size, containing only two bedrooms. It didn’t feel right to intrude on Uraume's private quarters, especially since it was Sukuna's decision to keep you, but he also couldn’t deny he had other intentions.

Before crawling into bed, you turned to meet Sukuna's gaze.

“Ryo… I don’t know how I could ever repay you. If there's anything I can do for you, you must tell me," you said earnestly.

“Hmm,” he paused, feigning contemplation.

You looked at him eagerly, trying to anticipate what he could ask for.

"Anything?" he drawled, rubbing his chin.

You nodded.

“Alright," he smirked, "swear yourself to me.”

Your eyes widened. You weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, but you trusted him implicitly. He most likely needed an extra hand with taking care of the temple and doing some extra work around here.

“A-are you sure that’s all you want? That hardly seems adequate, I am troubling you after all.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.

"You undermine yourself, flower."

“Oh, well, I do have many skills I could offer, and I promise to be useful around here. I’m quite knowledgeable about plants, herbs, and flowers. I may not be as good a cook as Uraume, but—”

"Staying by my side is enough," he interjected.

There was a sincerity in his voice that was new to you, making your heart do flips inside your chest.

"Ryo..." you spoke quietly, clasping your hands tightly. "I might misunderstand if you're so kind to me."

Oh, what a delight you were. Sukuna felt an intense urge to smother you.

“Well, what if I wanted more than just your domestic skills?” he asked lowly, taking a lock of your hair into his hands.

Your heart raced, and suddenly the room felt hot as you understood his implications.

“Is that… what you truly desire?"

"And if it is?"

There was a brief pause.

Just this morning, you were still in utter despair, wholly expecting to be wedded to a monster. But now, in this moment, it was not Lord Yamamoto before you, but rather the man of your dreams—the only man you had wished to marry. He had long claimed your mind and heart; what more was your body?

"Then take me," your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but why did he feel so disappointed by your response? It almost rolled off your tongue too easily.

"You would just give yourself to any man, so long as they ask?"

"N-no, you misunderstand!"

Sukuna remained silent, the look in his eyes demanding you to elaborate.

"If that were true, I wouldn’t have ran away from Lord Yamamoto. You're not just any man to me, Ryo. I—" love you. The heat crept up to your ears.

Your timid confession sent a chilling thrill through his body, awakening a primal hunger within him, he could no longer resist.

“Do you truly wish to be mine?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt dizzy under his touch and gaze.

"Yes..."

"Look at me and say it." He hissed.

"I'm yours, Ryo. I want to be yours." You met his eyes and gently took his hand, placing it over your heart, hoping he could feel how violently it was beating against your chest.

“You didn’t need to ask me to swear myself to you; I would have gladly followed you anywhere. I've felt that way ever since we were children.”

Sukuna was rarely caught off guard. The first time he recalled was when you approached him as a child, and the second was this very moment. You had just confessed your feelings for him and expressed a desire to stay with him of your own volition. Nobody else had ever been able to elicit these feelings from him, and the dominion you unknowingly held over him was both terrifying and thrilling.

"Then I will take you, flower—your heart, body, and soul."

Without sparing another moment, he wrapped his hand behind your head and crushed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you fell silent.

For once, it felt as if the universe had smiled upon his wretched life.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pictures used for the banner.

Taglist: @paradisestarfishh @ssetsuka

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nightlyrequiem · 23 hours ago

Note

Would it be possible to get Valeria with a homebody writer (specifically romance writer maybe) partner?

This is totalllly not self indulgent at all, but I feel like the scenario you write where she broke into the readers house (which I loved btw) and becomes her stowaway would probably be the only way they meet lol, it's also possible that she could see the writer in a coffeeshop somewhere and have a meet cute but that doesn't really seem like her style to me :(

Feel free to change this up in any way you want I'm just throwing my ideas out from my mind palace

Yeah, I feel like meeting Valeria would be a little difficult unless it was some kind of home invasion type of scenario. Meet Cutes aren't her style sadly

Tags/Warnings: Kidnapping, WLW, Reader Gets Knocked Around, Fangirl Valeria

Meet Cute

Human error is unavoidable, like misspelling a word or grammatical errors. Even with a proof-reader, things are bound to slip past notice. Mistakes will be made eventually, no matter how careful a person is. You're tossed to the cement floor harshly, pain blossoming in your ribs from the impact. The sac over your head prevents you from seeing anything. Your ears ring, making it impossible to make out the low muttering of male voices.

No one is truly aware of how quickly things can change. Having four walls and a door often provides one with a false sense of security. Of safety. You thought you were safe. You were a bit reclusive. Preferring to be inside where the variables of life are easier to control. Even in a city like Las Almas. The environment that night was perfect for writing. Dark and slightly stormy. You were curled up on your couch, laptop in your lap with inspiration flowing from your pores. The first draft for your latest sapphic romance novel was almost completed.

Without any warning your front door was kicked open. The locks proving to be completely useless. You screamed and fought as masked men stormed inside. However, it was a short-lived battle. One punch to the temple was all it took to take the fight from you.

You're not given any time to catch your breath or get your bearings. Your grabbed by rough hands and dragged somewhere else. You're lifted and placed into a chair, hands tied behind you. Footsteps fade as the men leave you bound and blind. The only sound now being your own breathing and the frantic beating of your heart.

Waiting is the worst part. The dread of what's to come will never compare to what will actually happen. You're never going to finish your book. The second in your series. Your readers will never get to know what happens to the two main leads. Maybe it's your writing that got you here. You had gotten death threats before. As well as other types. As was the risks of writing the things you do. The situation almost reminds you of the story you posted to the internet when you were too young to be on it. A flawlessly witty girl is kidnapped by a stereotypically masculine guy. They fall in love.

You doubt there will be any love here though. Love doesn't flourish where death and decay feast. Finally, you hear footsteps approaching. Firm and confident. The door slides open and people enter, the room becoming heavy with tension.

"You thought you'd get away with stealing, hm?" A woman asks. You frown. You don't recall stealing anything. "Thought you were smarter than me?"

The bag is ripped from your head, and you recoil at how bright the lights are. You blink at the sight of the visibly angry woman in front of you. Reeking of violence and danger. Maybe it's because of all the questionable romantic leads you've written but there's something alluring about her. Though her being attractive doesn't make you less frightened.

She almost looks as confused as you feel. Brows furrowed into a frown. She says your name, which doesn't bode well for you.

"... I didn't steal from you." You say softly. Hoping to pacify the situation. "At least not knowingly, if I did I can replace it or give it back." You promise. The woman doesn't respond, just continues to gawk at you.

The silent staring is beginning to get uncomfortable. The two men she brought with her exchange confused glances. Clearly something isn't going the way it should.

"You wrote Stardust." She says finally. Your face warms with embarrassment. You're proud of what you write but it still feels... weird to have people talk about it. You furrow your brows. You didn't think a woman that looks like her would be in your audience.

"... Yeah, I uh, did." You nod awkwardly.

She puts her gun back into its holster. "I have all your books." She says. Surprising you.

The woman turns to the men beside her.

"This isn't the right woman you fucking idiots! I even gave you a picture how did you mess up?" She hisses at them. You almost deflate with relief at those words. A mistake. A simple case of human error. "Get out." She snaps. The men nod and leave quickly. Ashamed or afraid that they messed up. She turns back to you with an appraising eye.

"... Do you like them?" You ask.

Her brows furrow. "What?"

"My books." You clarify nervously.

She walks behind you.

"One of my guilty pleasures is romance," She starts. "it's a nice escape from the grueling, bloody reality of my life."

"That's... nice." You reply. She didn't really answer your question.

"I'm picky though, I'll drop a book easily if the characters do something I think is stupid."

Oh. She's probably going to chastise you for writing idiots - which admittedly, you have. In some of your earlier books. The ropes loosen, freeing your hands.

"But I like the way you write people." She praises. "They're realistically stupid."

You bring your hands to your lap and inspect your wrists. The soft skin is a little red.

"Oh, thank you." You say, blinking gratefully. She walks back in front of you.

"This was a misunderstanding." She says, voice soft and placating. You look at her and wonder if this is a trick. You rise to your feet.

"All good." You smile. Though it's actually not all good. You're shaken. Your home was broken into and you were kidnapped. However, saying that might not bode over well.

"... So is Stardust getting a sequel?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

She has a very intense stare. You have to look away because staring into her dark brown eyes is starting to make you uncomfortable.

"I'm in the process of writing it, actually." You tell her. "Well, the draft."

She continues to stare at you. "Do you think you could add me into the book?"

You frown. "Yeah, sure I could do that." You nod reluctantly. This woman scares you and you'd hate to disappoint her.

"I shouldn't tell you my name, but I just love you and your writing so much," She admits. "I'm Valeria."

You nod.

"Valeria." You repeat. "Nice to meet you, I suppose."

Valeria nods and cracks a small smile. "Great. Why don't I take you home now then?" She says, herding you towards the door. You try to protest against that, not really wanting her to know where you live. Though considering her people had taken you from your home in the first place, she probably already knows. Your words fall on deaf ears. Valeria is determined to escort you home safely. Wanting to spend a little one on one time with her favourite author.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #cod mw2 #valeria garza cod #modern warefare ii #cod mwii #cod x reader #valeria garza x you #cod

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kitsunexgari · 3 days ago

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Summary: Trying to get a drink to relax after work one night, a strange but handsome man sits across the bar with his eyes on you. At first, you are annoyed by this but upon second glance, he seems to be the most enticing man you've ever laid your eyes upon, and he only wants one thing. Tags: Dirty talk, Risky & Semi-Public Sex, Fingering, Rough Sex, Mild Daddy kink, Extreme-Dub-Con Notes: This story is fan fiction for Front Man/Hwang In-Ho and not meant for anyone under the age of 18. It contains rough language and adult situations. Not sure if this makes sense either it's just a little idea that I had consider it AU if you must.

You first notice him eyeing you across the bar. He's only looking at you and he's kind of creepy. Though you do find him attractive you can't help but think he also could be a serial killer. You get your drink and slip away, trying to find somewhere else to sit down. You really only wanted to get a drink after work, maybe talk to some people, but you weren't hoping for any sort of hook-up. This place typically has decent clientele but not tonight. Not with how the creep in the nice suit keeps staring you down.

You get out your phone to browse it and pretend to be busy. You can see him circling around like a hawk. Ready to swoop in at a moment's notice. You try not to pay him any attention but it's not easy. He's very tall, and handsome, and his suit is sexy, flashy, and just as dark as his eyes. Without warning, he sits down across from you as if you already had a prearranged meeting. You look up at him.

"Not interested." You say.

"Then maybe I can change your mind." He says.

"I don't think so," You reply and go back to your phone. He continues to sit there anyway, staring at you as if he can change your thoughts with his own telepathically. After about a minute of this you get up and head away from there to change seats. He stays where he is but his eyes follow you. It's like you can feel them moving over every inch of your body. You wonder why he's stuck on you in the first place.

There are other people at the bar, men and women. Very attractive. It isn't as if he doesn't have a lot to choose from. You keep looking at your phone, trying to pretend he's not bothering you. It would be easier to just leave but you also want to finish your drink which cost close to fifteen dollars, and it's good. You figure that eventually he'll get bored and move on to something else.

Eventually, you manage to engross yourself in a story you find online and lose track of where he is and what he's doing. When you look up again, your drink is mostly finished and he is nowhere to be seen. You smile and shut off your phone, taking a moment to relax and sit back in your chair. Savor your drink and enjoy the final moments of your evening before heading to your car to go home.

As you stand up, you realize that you have to pee. It's not that far to the bathroom and it won't take that long so you head through the back into the waiting area that sections off the men's room from the lady's room. As you enter, you see he is waiting there. Sitting on the couch just between the two doors. You gasp. He turns and smiles.

"Thought you might change your mind." He says.

"I didn't." You reply, "Don't you have anything better to do than hang around me all night?" He stands up, coming right at you. With a forceful grab of your arm he yanks you into the women's restroom. You scream out in surprise but he's fast. He puts his hand over your mouth and presses his back against the door to shut it. In one swift move he has it locked and is pulling you to the opposite wall. He shoves you into it, pinning you there and looking down into your eyes.

"I know I didn't change my mind and I also know what I want." He whispers, "Now, I'm going to move my hand, if you scream you'll regret it." In this lighting and context you can see just how incredibly handsome he is. Positively gorgeous. You don't think there has ever been a man this intent on capturing you in such a manner. Your face starts to flush with arousal as fear flutters through your stomach. Why does he want you so bad and even more...why do you suddenly want him? You nod, signifying you understand what he's saying and he slowly moves his hand away from your mouth.

"What are...you going to do to me?" You ask.

"Looks like anything I want." He says and turns you to face the wall. His large hand comes up, pressing your cheek into the bricks. He keeps you held there but you are so excited by this point that the last thing you can think to do is run away from him or even try. You want him, badly. You can feel how wet you are getting just thinking about how hard he's going to fuck you. His free hand slides up under your skirt and his fingers move teasingly over the crotch of your panties. "I'm not hearing any protests now, am I?" You groan softly.

"No...but I-"

"Shhh...be a good girl and take Daddy's cock like you're meant to." He says. Leaning against you heavily, he shifts and you hear him unzip his pants. There is a bit more movement as he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side. He runs two fingers over your wet folds, teasing your clit and provoking another moan. Two of them slip inside of you, working in and out to get you even more slick and ready for him.

"Please just let me-"

"I told you to be quiet." He snaps, and you can feel his hot breath against your ear. His hand moves from your cunt and from behind her slips his hand over your mouth again, jamming the two fingers he just used on you in past your lips and onto your tongue. You start to suck on them heavily, your eyes rolling back in your head as he takes a moment to thrust into you roughly from behind. Your scream of surprise and pleasure is muffled by his fingers as he starts to thrust. "Keep sucking...clean them nice and good for me..." He orders.

You do your best to fulfill his commands but it's not easy. He is working his hips in ways you didn't know possible. Seeming to hit every spot inside of you in just the right way. His grunting and groaning is animalistic, like a dog in heat. You feel his mouth slip to your neck, biting here and there. Sometimes hard enough to get you to scream again as his sharp teeth break the skin. You groan and shiver, his tongue hungrily lapping up the blood in the wake of the wounds he's leaving. The combined pain with pleasure pushing you closer and closer to climax. His hand slips from your mouth to grab one of your tits through the cloth of your blazer. You squeal and he thrusts harder, the same hand now traveling down past the hem of your skirt into the front of your panties.

"Ready to cum all over daddy's cock?" He purrs and thrusts painfully hard, getting as far inside of you as possible.

"Y-Yes...Daddy...please let me cum..." You whine loudly. His fingers brush over your clit then apply pressure expertly. You cry out as your orgasm hits, his moans eclipsing yours as you both climax together. His thrusts like a jackhammer as you are pressing into the wall. You continue to ride the waves of ecstasy over, and over, taking this brutal pounding until you are both entirely spent. He leans into you, with his full weight once he's finished. You can smell him, the scent of sex, and his cologne. The entire experience is addictive. You've never felt anything like this.

A few moments later he pulls back and slaps your ass roughly. You whine, leaning against the wall trying to get your breath back. He grabs your hand and jams something into it."I'll be here again. Same time next Friday. Don't be late." He says and walks out of there. You blink, wondering if you heard that right and then look at what he's handed you. It's a business card with some weird symbols on it. You still aren't sure of who he is or what exactly happened here but you do know that you will not be late for your next "date" with him. That's for sure.

#hwang in ho #lee byung hun #squid game #squid game 2 #fanfic #one!shot

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fistfuloflightning · 14 hours ago

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You’re welcome for those wiki tabs! Oh gosh your tags are lovely ☺️—hope you don’t mind me preserving them here:

#hello op I'm here to tell you I am continuing to love your brain#I feel like I need to study the technical aspects of clothing more so thank you for inspiring the wiki tabs on my phone#I like the idea of Fitzwilliam being at the border and sometimes having to return home#like this is the guy that becomes someone's pretend husband because you can just say 'oh yeah uh I'm married already. no you can't meet him#'no it's not because he's not real it's because he's at the border not because you're coming onto me & I don't like you'#that of course is a complete tangent and nothing to do with the actual story. also I just watched 100 days my prince#that's a huge tangent though. lol. anyway:#one can only hope family obligations are infrequent enough. plus she can still brag about how patriotic he is#I wANt mY NepHEWS oN tHE THrown...he's still at the border? send word post haste to return! *feeble old persona switch*#*activate queen dowager mode* where is my OTHER nephew. I will NOT see my family disposed!#actually how is georgiana turning out here? can she play the gayageum O.o??

The whole Darcy/Fitzwilliam/de Bourgh is just hilarious to me. It feels like such a literal three ring circus, with everyone running around and juuust missing each other by minutes

Fitzwilliam would definitely be down to play the ‘fake boyfriend’ for one of his besties, and somehow gets a womanizer reputation out of it even tho he’s never actually been in a relationship.

Lady Catherine would be the scheming dowager, but like just really hilariously obvious to everyone that she’s scheming. She’s got her network of eunuchs and maids running around playing spy, and some of the court officials as well (Collins 👀—who kinda blows cover when he meets Darcy and pretty much gushes about how Darcy’s set up to marry Princess Anne, no he’s not going sit in the throne itself but Darcy’s son will have the throne so that means it’ll stay in the clan in any case! And Darcy just goes cold and backs tf away 😆 )

And you bet Georgiana would play the gayageum (plus a hundred other instruments) and one of the things Darcy enjoys best is sitting outside with his little sister and listening to her practice (perhaps that’s how Wickham first seduced her, finding her practicing alone in a garden pavilion and approaching her like the smooth scumbag he is). I think Lady Catherine is also pretty protective of Georgiana and blames Darcy for not fulfilling his brotherly duties (unsure if in this au she’s aware of the Wickham situation, if thinking that since he failed to protect her Lady Catherine would do it for him and demanding Georgiana be brought to live in the palace which Darcy would ofc fight)

Ngl I think Confucian doctrine weirdly translates well to the values of Regency England as well and I think that’s what originally sold me on this au—the values don’t really change much, women’s place in their respective societies don't change much, and I just find that fascinating. Something like Mr Bennet being a Confucian scholar and teaching his first two daughters to the best of his knowledge, losing steam with Mary, and then absolutely giving up with Kitty and Lydia and just leaving their education to his wife (which is part of the reason they turn out the way they do (and was largely inspired by my favorite P&P fic Mr. Bennet Travels Through Time, read it. please.))

A few more character designs for the Pride and Prejudice Joseon AU: Mr Collins, Lady Catherine, and George Wickham

I’ve been rereading My Royal Awakening and Crush in Spring and those manhwas gave me a bit more inspo for this au. I couldn’t unsee Lady Catherine in eoyeo meori so I turned her into the queen dowager—which would make for some interesting nepotistic dynamics with her nephews if she favors her own clan in politics, and both Darcy and Fitzwilliam are probably not about that life lol.

Darcy could be a junior official at court where he wears his mask constantly as a matter of survival, or maybe even a scholar of Sungkyunkwan. Fitzwilliam is always gone to the border and only comes home when he’s forced to.

And Mr Collins… *deep sigh* Mr Collins is probably in a lesser administrative position and uses his connection with the queen dowager to crawl his way up the ladder.

#ahhh I love seeing what people pull out of my disjointed aus #it’s so fun seeing more threads woven in to make the pattern bigger!#pride and prejudice #joseon pride and prejudice #jane austen cultural remix

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crescenthistory · 3 days ago

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Hello lovely! Can I request Marlene McKinnon with b1+11 please? 🫶🫶

of course you can<33 my fav girl marls

Prompt: B1. "I require at least a thousand kisses to make up for it" & B.11 "Come back to bed"

Words: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: fem!reader, not proofread, idiots in love, established relationship, morning kisses, cuddles, quidditch player!marlene, loving jokes at james' expense, background marylily, very background prongsfoot, implied gryffindor!reader (you share a dorm)

While there were no limits to what you loved about Marlene, on cold winter nights spent in an ancient castle with terrible isolation, her running hot as a furnace ranked high on any potential list.

It had been months since you decided to push your beds together in the dorm and spell the gap between the mattresses away, and you had yet to stop commending yourselves for the idea. Practically every night before you went to sleep, Marlene would mumble about "what a bright witch must have thought of this", and you never knew whether she was referring to you in a flirty way or herself in a self-congratulatory way, seeing as you thought of it together. You usually didn't call her out on it though, too busy grinning so hard your gums hurt.

You were also too busy having Mary fling pillows in your direction as she begged you to "stop being so lovey-dovey". With quiet whispers, you and Marlene would giggle about how her tune would likely change whenever she finally confesses her feelings to Lily and could follow in your footsteps.

In the meantime, you had a large bed, warm blankets that the four of you dyed cute patterns into at the start of term – the traditional way without magic, just like Lily taught you – and a beautiful soft girl in your arms. It was the perfect haven; a motivating start to the day and a reprieve from the weathers at night.

That is, until Marlene tries to get up at 6 AM to attend quidditch practice.

Again, on the list of what you love about your girlfriend, her commitment and loyalty were high on the list, the two qualities that truly drove her in her sports achievements. She was a pleasure to watch on the field in more ways than one, and you were there to cheer her on for every single match, painting both your and her cheeks in vibrant red and gold.

However, when you were swept up in a heavenly cocoon of plush fabric and delicate skin, the smell that was so distinctly Marlene swirling in your nose and your mind, the mere suggestion that it should be broken even before the break of dawn felt like a death sentence.

You let her know as much.

"Marls, please," you whined, not caring that your voice was hoarse with sleep and your eyes weren't even open. You had just barely registered the kisses peppered to your hairline that already carried an air of goodbye and Marlene beginning to move.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she whispered against your skin before kissing it and removing her hands from around your waist.

You scurried after her and doubled down your own grip on her with surprising strength for someone not yet truly awake. "Marlene, baby, don't go." You weren’t entirely aware of what you were saying, just that you were begging and that you honestly stood by it – this was no time to leave.

You must be slurring your words because she began to giggle and her hand on the back of your neck came forward to brush over your cheeks and even squeeze them a little. "'M sorry my love, duty calls. You just sleep on, princess."

Another kiss to your hairline. You clung onto her harder and made a noise of distinctive disagreement.

One thing you had come to learn about Marlene over the years is that if she had not been sorted into Gryffindor, she would have been placed straight in Slytherin. Because this cunning sly witch made a sympathetic cooing sound, gathered you back up in her arms, and began rocking you ever so slightly back and forth. Only half your brain was awake – if that – to begin with, and within seconds your entire world was just your nose against Marlene's neck, her lips along your cheek and ear and the faint sound of her humming a Scottish lullaby.

You were swallowed by the abyss while wrapped up in love, and you would have stayed in the pit of its stomach had it not been for the gust of icy wind that brushed your face, some unknown time later.

With a low groan you opened your eyes into mere slits, trying to focus your gaze on the small commotion before you. There you were met with the sheepish smile of your lovely and traitorous girlfriend as she had just stood up from the bed and begun to pull on her red wool socks.

"Marlene. That was mean." You grumbled, but even so, you pulled the blankets closer around you as you shimmied clumsily to her side of the bed.

Immediately upon the reunion, Marlene's surprisingly warm hand went to caress your cheek where you looked up at her, scrutinising. "Sorry lovely, I wanted you to sleep." She pouted at you to make your frown wash away into a smile. "I have to get to quidditch practice with James in 30."

"I know you do." With a match against Slytherin coming up, James had the team practicing once or twice per day, at what you had promptly labelled ungodly hours. "But right now you have a cuddling appointment with me. Come back to bed."

You took advantage of her hand on your cheek to reach up towards her upper arm and shoulders and try to jostle her down towards you. Marlene chuckled quietly, trying to be careful not to wake your other two friends who were decidedly not known for being bright and cheery in the morning, and sat down beside you on the bed yieldingly.

You were ambushed by her peppering kisses across your face, each one its own silent silly apology. When she brushed her lips towards your own, you gave in for a few seconds before turning your head away.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet," you mumbled begrudgingly.

She quickly stilled your head’s movement with her hand and pulled it back towards hers, chasing after your lips. "Don't care, c'mere."

The kiss was the kind of domestic one that made you want to giggle uncontrollably despite knowing that you really shouldn't – though, if you did, Marlene would have joined you in a heartbeat. Marlene’s lips had the most beautifully prominent cupid’s bow you had seen, and you could feel the press of it against your own upper lip, could feel her smile and her love and her wish to stay with you.

You latched onto the last one.

“Just a little bit,” you mumbled against her lips as you snuck your hands up under her Heart sleep shirt to spread across her toned back and encourage her to lay down on top of you. “Five minutes, just five minutes.”

There was not an ounce of embarrassment in you for how much you wanted her with you, and there was not an ounce of judgment in her. A wolfish, pleased grin spread across her face as she relented and snuck under the blankets to lay comfortably on top of you, slotted between your legs with your chests pressed together. “Just five minutes, you say?” She spoke in between quick kisses, defined eyebrows raised at you teasingly.

“Mmm, maybe ten.” You didn’t bother hiding your smile, instead hooking your pinkies behind her ears to pull her face back up towards yours.

Marlene laughed into your mouth at a dangerous volume – thankfully you didn’t mind swallowing it with a kiss. You’re welcome Lily and Mary.

When you came apart, Marlene leaned her forehead against yours and heaved a theatrically overdone sigh, looking up at you through her lashes. “Whatever my girl wants, huh?”

Without giving you a chance to reply, she hooked an arm around your neck and one around your lower back before flinging herself sideways to flop back down on the bed, bringing you with her in her arms. It was a practised manoeuvre, one that landed you with your face in the crook of her neck and side pressed against her warm body, one that never failed to bring butterflies to your stomach.

You stared up at her as if she hung the moon, knowing full well that she was the sun.

The love must have been evident on your face because hers melted into a soft puddle before bringing your chin up with a finger beneath it to kiss you sweetly. “I love getting my way with you,” you teased, causing Marlene to snort.

“Yeah, I know you do,” she said dreamily. “But if you make me late to quidditch practice, I require at least a thousand kisses to make up for it.”

“Just for you, or does James need some as well?”

Marlene made a sound that effectively communicated gross that’s like my brother as she smacked your arm lightly, but you just laughed, holding her closer to you and kneading the flesh of her back contently. “You should enlist Sirius to give James his own thousand-fold kisses.”

“I reckon that will be easy enough,” you whispered, still laughing as you kissed along her cheek and jaw. “You drive a hard bargain, but I accept your conditions, McKinnon.”

Marlene shook her head and looked down at you with a gaze that was nothing short of lovesick. “What have I gotten myself into?”

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littleeyesofpallas · 13 hours ago

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Are Kyoraku's game abilities actually based on real Japanese children games? I only know about the Daruma one.

Sorry i put this off so long, i kept meaning to go dig up the old anime episodes to see if the anime added or changed anything, but never did. I'm just leaning on the fan wikia to take inventory and trusting they didn't overlook anything...

Bushogoma[不精独楽]: "Lazy SpinningTop" is the type of spinning top toy you usually see in Japan, where you wind a bit of string around the top to use like a rip chord to send it spinning; as opposed to the sort you'd spin by hand or something.

(It's what Beyblades are based on.)

(Oh a good thing to note here is that in the japanese version of the game we generally refer to as "tag" as well as the "it" role in it is called "oni" as in a demon/ogre. So the term in all the associated "XYZ-Oni" attacks could functionally just be translated as "XYZ-Tag")

TakaOni[嶄鬼]: "(High/Steep)Mountain Tag" is a play on takaoni[高鬼]: "High(up) Tag" a variation of tag where the tagger must be at even or higher elevation than the person they're tagging. i.e. players higher up than the tagger are considered safe. The "taka" is also a homonym with taka[鷹]: "hawk/falcon" and seems to be a play on how hawks hunt by diving at their prey, meaning they have a blind spot above them.

KageOni[影鬼] "Shadow Tag" is a variation of tag where instead of tagging the person themselves, whoever is "it" has to touch their shadow to tag them out.

IroOni[艶鬼]: "colorful/lustrous oni" is actually a pun on irooni[色鬼]: "Color Tag." Unlike in the manga the rule is usually that once a color is declared, touching anything of that color is considered "safe," so each round is a matter of chasing down players until everyone is either out or safe, then declaring a new target color.

Daruma-san ga koronda[だるまさんがころんだ] got the most attention I think of the whole line up and is the Japanese name for what I think it most commonly called "Red Light, Green Light" in English.

(Pretty notably the manga Kami-sama no Iu Touri[神さまの言うとおり] aka As The Gods Will used it as the first big game in their death game series, with a literal Japanese daruma doll. It's also what Squid Game stole its first game plot from, beat for beat.)

Kageokuri[影送り]: "Shadow send(off)" i don't know that this is really a "game" but it's when you stare at your shadow on the ground for a bit then up at the sky and can see your shadow's afterimage.

BBS adds Yubikiri[指斬り]: lit."finger beheading" as in to cut off the "head" of a finger. It's what we'd call a "pinky promise" in English, the idea being that you've sworn to keep whatever promise at the cost of cutting off your pinky if you aren't faithful to it.

...as well as Kagome kagome[囲召籠目]: "encircled basket eye" a pun on[籠目籠目]: "basket eye, basket eye." Children hold hands in a circle with an oni/it in the middle, they dance around in said circle singing while the center child keeps their eyes close, and when the song ends the oni/it has to guess who is directly behind them. The tune of the song that goes with it is extremely recognizable.

Some of the old videogames had original techniques but those were largely made before any of his actual powers were revealed so they're mostly just like wind elemental attacks and don't contribute to the theme.(ugh... goddamnit now that i went and looked for it i realize there's like zero info around most of those old games and it makes me want to download emulator files for them all and look up all their move lists... i dont want to actually do all that tho...)

Honestly I'm surprised Katen and Kyokotsu didn't have any anime original abilities in the filler arc or something...

They do have a BBS card with the move Utage-no-Ikkyou[宴の一興]: "Amusement/(Brief)Entertainment of (a) Feast/Party" which isn't really a game of any sort. at least not specifically. It would refer to something like a bit of song and dance interlude at a feudal era banquet. Admittedly a clever intersection of Katen and Kyokotsu's differing types of play -children's game vs adult entertainment.

#bleach #bleach meta #shunsui kyoraku #katen kyokotsu #oh hey found that missing post #i guess when it sent it to drafts #it acted like i had drafted it back when the ask was first sent?#so it instantly buried it like 100 posts deep

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seepweed · 3 days ago

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wip-poll game, bc this seems fun :D

RULES!!! make a poll, list some works in progress that you'd like to work on and that maybe don't receive lots of love otherwise. let the democracy take its course and whichever wip gets the most votes, write one sentence for every vote received. then, tag your friends!

"memoirs" is ages old at this point. it's 80% done and about urban fantasy/magical realism and losing your sister to not exactly great choices. and finding lesbianism within death.

"37°" s'agit d'une jeune médecin qui travaille dans les hâutes-alpes et sa meilleure amie - qui vole des hélicos pour sauvetage.

"it's vincent and his baseball bat against this transitory period" (changed in the poll bc of character limit!) is honestly about how crappy vincent must be doing after the whole conclave dies down and how much he misses his family... and how he can find new friends and how life can get a little better.

"Tarek Dingerle" lebt auch seit geraumer Zeit in meinen Ordnern... er besitzt ein kleines Büro mit zwei Freunden, die Ratschläge gegen Spenden verteilen und dessen Pfiffigkeit manchmal tatsächlich ganz hilfreich ist.

and the mash flash-fanfiction bundle is just what it says on the tin. lots of cute stories, lots of sad stories. but i should finish some of these ideas, haha! some erin stuff, some bj/hawkeye/charles stuff, some stuff with sidney, some elaboratory angst...

tagging: @serpercival @cuddleswinchester @p0stscripter @cozybearz @platonickit

if you do not have any creative wips atm, i'm sorry oops! and if i didn't tag you, i'm sorry of course you can steal this just like i stole this from my dash :>

#tag game #tigs talks

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afreakingdork · 13 hours ago

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Soft Spot - Chapter 24

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I'm going ham depicting all the OCs this time around so here's everyone's favorite phone obsessed peep, Eugene! Obviously they were captured at their most flattering by the magnanimous @grumpytheunicorn

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

NOTE: So my secular ass that was raised without religion genuinely had no idea that godparents was a religious concept. I curse the christian-centric values bred into the American zeitgeist. Like obviously, it has the word 'god' in it, but no one said this dork had a high IQ (I very much don't). I was genuinely inspired to even do a godparent story line because of the movie Life as We Know It (2010). My deepest apologies if this misstep alienated anyone. Please know that it does not come from a place of faith and instead is meant only in the non-religious terms which is a guardian who takes custody of a child should anything happen to a child's parents.

First 💜 Previous

You wanted to say you marched into the arena. In a tight, single file formation, double doors were shoved open in front of you. The leaders of your group paved the way for the opposing team’s imminent loss. Another set of doors were breached and the suction seal of sound was broken. Fanfare erupted as the first challengers were seen. Flickering lights danced around mimicking paparazzi and within a few steps, you too had entered the building. Your husband was the heavy on the end, the last force to back up your intrepid part and from the front, your general spoke.

“I am here…” Eugene threw a thumb at their person over the host stand. “… for the 100 wing death challenge.”

“Party for Eugene.” The woman double checked her notes before chirping through the illusions of grandeur. “Right this way!”

You were now simply a group of friends who had walked into a sports bar and were led to a table that accommodated your numbers. While you had been incubating a baby, your friends’ lives had continued. Eugene had picked up an interest in eating competitions after binge watching some competitive eating show. They had scoured New York City for a reasonable enough challenge and relied on their spiced upbringing to win them a particular gold. This bar had recently opened and no one had been able to achieve the goal as of yet, so Eugene marked themself down to be the first. This gave them precedent and they took a seat at the head of the table to face their cheer squad.

Kaleb was fast tracking for a promotion and hadn’t had much time for antics. He was a little all work and no play, though you bet everyone at his job still considered him the quintessential jolly man. You heard he had been driving out of the city for some curry place as his only extracurricular as of late and he manned the second seat to the head of the table.

Coral sat immediately across from him with her usual poise. If this were any other event, she might have been the one executing, but she had deferred along with her taming. Exercise had fallen off of her interest list and mimosa flights had moved in. Bubbly was her means of celebration as she and Nelson had been dating for almost three whole months.

You headed for the seat next to hers since said man was on a work trip. Besides a label, very little had changed in their dynamic. Both Coral and Nelson would have been here to cheer Eugene on, had he been available. He was probably texting the group chat asking for updates and you meant to check, but you struggled to fit into the slot she had tucked into. She had chosen a route along a wall and your little one was feeling especially not so little in your 28th week.

“Shit.” Coral noticed and clicked her tongue. “Sink, switch!”

“No way!” Kaleb slapped his belly. “You think I’m squeezing my ass in there? Bring that baby to the open side.”

He gestured to the seat next to his and how his row had space as it butted up to walkway.

“I want to sit next to Y/N!” Coral broiled.

Donnie paused at the end of the table to select whatever was leftover.

“Okay.” You caught a chair and put some weight onto it. “I can fit, I just need a second…”

Kaleb looked right at Donnie. “Colonel, let’s just move the table.”

“I can fit!” You snapped.

Donnie stayed especially still.

Kaleb blinked.

Eugene grinned pre-gamed shit.

Coral’s frown lined her cheeks.

You took a single breath to keep the next line out of your mouth at bay. You sympathized heavily with a particular woman who had just wanted ice cream. Now far removed from easily concealed bump days, your supposed helplessness was on the rise. There was always someone trying to make way or, worse yet, trying to touch you, and your mate often picked up the slack. An irrational part of your brain said your friends should know all this, but you had been just about as scarce as they were in life updates.

You were glad when Eugene had asked you to come.

They had made sure to ask specifically you.

They said they wanted you there.

They said they wanted to catch up while they suffered.

A gauntlet, they had joked, referring to yet another program.

It meant something.

It all meant something.

Coral’s care.

Kaleb’s assumption.

Donnie’s patience.

It was all equally irritating.

Your feet ached.

Your lower back was incessantly sore.

Your calves would throb from this short pause.

You were in a never ending battle between sitting down and your bladder.

You breathed in and out again before you tried to meaningfully look over your options. Kaleb’s mind for engineering argued his course was best and it would be nice to be able to easily get in and out of your seat when you inevitably had to hit the restroom next.

“Move the table.” You admitted trying not to be too sad about it.

The hoist took less than a few seconds and no one made further notes.

Donnie eventually sat across from you and beside Kaleb. Waters were passed out and other, more paltry orders were taken. Eugene’s serious air kept the table from falling into much catch up and eventually a team of employees approached the table.

“Welcome!” The first spoke as the hostess from the front. “I have a whole spiel, are you ready?”

“Born ready.” Eugene looked up with a fiery gazed they hoped matched the wings.

“Alright.” The woman bowed slightly. “Welcome to The Vertigo Venue, home of the 100 wing death challenge, where you won’t leave without your head spinning. As the reaper implies, you need to finish 100 of the world’s hottest wings in under 45 minutes. They will be brought to you in groups of 10 with the last 5 beings made with some of the hottest peppers in the world. Do you think you can stand up to the heat or will you be running from our kitchen?”

A man beside her who looked like he had come from the cook staff nodded appropriately.

“I’m here to win.” Eugene stared straight on.

“We’ll see. We’ll need you to sign a standard liability waiver.” The perky woman took an offered piece of paper from the third member of their trio and passed it along with a pen.

Kaleb and Donnie both tried to eye it as Eugene signed it without reading.

“Perfect. The rest of your food will be out soon. Our server, Monica, here will monitor you. You’re not allowed to drink water, use dip, or get into anything else that might cleanse your palate between wing sets. Still sound good?”

“Let’s get it going!” Eugene hollered.

The rest of the table minus Donnie cheered alongside.

The two others bowed out and Monica took the far seat opposite Eugene.

“Monica.” Kaleb immediately leaned forward to see her. “Scare the pants off Eugene. Tell us all about the losers.”

Monica jumped a little. “Uh… I only just started last week…”

“Aw!” Kaleb sank back in his chair.

“Pathetic.” Eugene sneered.

“Though… I heard the first guy who tried it fainted and was taken away in an ambulance…” Monica continued on.

Eugene hiccupped.

“The second and third didn’t make it past 50 and the last one…” Monica thought hard. “I think I heard they threw up or burned their sinuses or something. That also might have been a lie for the newbie…”

The rest of the table was now staring at her.

“I mean think about it!” She squeaked.

“Can I get a copy of that waiver?” Coral oozed malevolence. “I want to hang it over Eugene’s hospital bed.”

“Shut up!” Eugene swatted at her.

Conversation opened up and broke apart. From the table to smaller parties, you chatted with Coral about how she thought the celery and carrots were a waste of time. Eugene went on to speak about their utility which went on until Monica stood. It was a signal and you all quieted as a server came around your table. Food was dispersed to everyone else in a way that made Eugene stand out.

They were center stage when that cook from earlier walked out to personally deliver the first ten hot wings.

He spoke of some insane number of Scoville units, which measured the spice.

Eugene seemed unimpressed and the man departed.

Monica pulled a digital clock out from somewhere and readied it. “I’ll start it when you take your first bite.”

Eugene nodded once.

Kaleb was already through a few of his own wings as he watched.

Everyone else waited.

Eugene picked up a flat and leveled their gaze at Monica.

She found some courage and returned it with a hand over the button.

A few wild west seconds ticked by before they took a bite and she pressed the clock.

“Oh!” Eugene immediately perked up. “That’s pretty good.”

They ate at a steady pace with a relatively impressed expression.

“What’s the math on that?” Kaleb tipped his head to Donnie.

“For 45 minutes, 2.2 wings a minute.” Donnie answered, having yet to eat anything.

“The point two wings part is the real challenge.” Kaleb spoke like a joking sage.

Your spouse nodded without further mention.

Kaleb examined him with a creased brow.

The cook came out with the next basket.

You sort of heard the new Scoville number, but really you smelled the spice.

You salivated.

Your own wings were something basic.

Your gastrointestinal system had been particularly active.

It didn’t help that your child was kicking.

Dr. Kuro had you doing what she called a ‘kick count.’ While she admitted the egg shell made it a bit odd, she cautioned that the larger the baby grew, the more active they would become. You figured they got Donnie’s smarts because soon after that they seemed to realize they could get a reaction out of you only if they kicked the malleable placenta. You would find yourself struck at odd hours and heaving when your organs were attacked.

Counting out your abuse was a given.

Donnie, who apparently could hear the movement, was always nearby for a hand to squeeze. You guessed you considered that a forewarning of birth, though that was still a tossup. Dr. Kuro said she was waiting to see something specific before she made a final determination on whether you’d be up for natural birth or not. You quaked at the thought of passing the plastron, but your doctor seemed confident it was soft enough. You found that hard to believe when she seemed to only be able to tell that by sonogram, but you had no choice but to defer to her centuries of knowledge.

If the knocks to your insides weren’t bad enough, your heartburn picked up the slack.

You had never particularly noticed any cravings. If anything you developed aversions, but they always seemed to make sense. Eating a constant diet geared toward your health often put you in food ruts. There were only so many ways vegetables, fruits, and lean proteins could be prepared for maximum benefit and you hit those walls fast. You did your best to rotate the crops. An attempt was made so you didn’t deplete your reserves in each food group, but it had been a neverending balance act.

Acid reflux hit you hard in week 27.

Without obvious cause or culprit you were burping up boiling oil. For the first time in your pregnancy, you felt the ache of nausea. Churning guts had you reaching for antacids. You had to check which were safe when all you wanted was to stop the burn. You tried to hastily switch your diet in an attempt to offset it, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the burn.

You ate a banana one day with no problem.

The next it caught in your throat a second time after swallowing.

You moved swiftly through your meal plans and it all culminated in a little pregnancy oddity. There were tons of these as far as Dr. Kuro was concerned and she likened them to the babies themselves. She said cravings and the like were all the baby deciding what they liked best, even if there was no evidence to support it.

You were sick enough to agree, but your mate had been hung up on the lack of science.

He had researched what he could, but abandoned it with relative swiftness. Pools of data were riddled with error and emotion. He likened it to the source of his ninpo as if he hadn’t taken to his new power like a moth to a flame. After his display of grandeur in the living room, his constructs were soon things he made without second thought. You figured it was an extension of those holograms that were linked to his brain. Ninpo bypassed some microscopic lag that supposedly came from his chip and had far greater application.

With a touch, he had a mug warmer keeping your tea the right temperature while you agonized over getting the minty aid down. With a tip of his head, a prop would appear if you needed to rest. He had even whipped up a neck pillow, though it was unusable. Tests found that while he understood organic compounds, he couldn’t recreate them with his power. The polyester he tried to manifest had been itchy and coarse. Though he was annoyed he couldn’t help you, knowing that mysticism had its limits seemed to soothe your mate.

They were caps on the intangible and he saw the rules as physical concepts. For moving mass, they were the calculations for friction and he loved parameters. He moved within them and wove throughout. You saw him create new battle shell prototypes in blinks just so he could see the components. He would turn the manifestations with flourishes and burst them into pieced blueprints so he could walk amongst the parts.

If you hadn’t been so sick as of late, you could have seen him revel more.

As it was, those glimpses had been few and far between. You wanted to encourage him because you loved to watch, but as of now Donnie barely spared time to practice. He only seemed to work with his ninpo to make sure his handle on it was a safe one. You and your child were his greater focus. He cared little for some great power as he deemed it unnecessary with the current state of his life. He had other things he wanted to do and, even if his ninpo could have helped, his plans were to do things with his own two hands, so he did.

The lumber for the crib had arrived a few days ago.

He was still reworking the perfect blueprint.

Tending to your tender stomach had kept him from long stretches of design.

The closing in of all you needed to do further upset your stomach.

So much of the time you thought should have gone to preparing for the baby had been used to instead see what shape the baby would take. It was difficult to think about buying clothes when you weren’t sure how sharp the carapace would be. You didn’t know how to account for diapers if there was a tail or not. Bottle types were a stalwart until one considered if formula was even necessary.

As far as you noticed, you hadn’t even produced milk or whatever precursor concoction it was called.

It was head-spinning.

You were already neglecting your friends as it were. Falling behind in regards to your kid which was the one thing you were supposedly putting all your energy toward felt like the ultimate failing. The thoughts might have consumed you had you not heard but opposition.

From Dr. Kuro, who had immediately picked up on the faintest hint of your anxiety, to Donnie, who was the king of over-preparations, neither party allowed for your doubts. Contingencies were always possible, but, as most of these things went, it didn’t matter how prepared or unprepared you were; a baby was coming. You would be ready because you had to be. Whatever you needed would be acquired and, if it had to be something different, then you would get that instead. Without the economic bars, that should have been settled for you, but the admonishment for thinking with such privilege in the first place came as a countercurrent.

It felt like a resurgence of the inadequacies you had long overcome. Years had gone by since you berated yourself in that way and the feelings had crept in to poison your heart and mind before you knew it. You decided that they were the leak of acid upsetting your stomach to absolve you and your baby of blame. It was the bad thoughts making you sick and not any infantile kicks. A change of mindset wasn’t something that happened immediately, but you had seen a turn as soon as you started to dismantle that train of thought.

Except now you were heavily debating on sucking the clean bones Eugene left behind.

Two more baskets had cycled through in that time and people were talking. Coral had left you behind to debate something with Kaleb that seemed to relate to Eugene. Said person sat at the center of a storm and seemed to be faring well. There was the faintest flush to their cheeks, but they continued eating at an even pace.

The smell of spice was in the air and tucking back into your nostrils. Waves of it wafting into a manifesting cloud that beckoned you forward. You moved by your nose alone as you leaned against the table. Your baby held onto the metaphorical edge to peak themselves at the treat unknown to them because you wanted one of those wings.

A level four spice couldn’t have been that bad.

You were turning toward Monica before you realized it. “When does the waiver kick in?”

Monica was schooled enough that she didn’t look away from Eugene. “It’s for overall consumption and the last fifteen.”

“Are the other sauces…” You glanced at one of the discarded baskets that had yet to be picked up and felt that drive hit you. “… on the menu normally?”

“Y/N…?” Coral caught wind of what you were doing.

“Huh?” You couldn’t pull your gaze away.

“You gonna do the challenge? You think eating for two gives you an edge?”

“What? No.” You finally blinked away.

“You’re eye fucking the bones.” Coral’s smile quirked.

“I don’t-!” You shook your head.

“Craving!” Eugene gulped out a fiery breath. “Mom did that with me! I was a spice baby!”

“You are good with spice.” Kaleb was inclined to agree.

“How’d that work out?” You felt a little guilty asking since it took Eugene’s attention away.

Eugene thought while they chewed.

You could feel Donnie eyeing you.

“Ever had heartburn so bad you couldn’t move?” Eugene finally animated and pointed a set of bones at you.

You sort of wanted to lean forward and bite the sinew on the joint.

“Haven’t you been dying with heartburn already?” Coral leaned suspiciously into your person.

“What’s another?” You found yourself saying.

Eugene laughed right into a choke.

Kaleb and Monica both shot to attention.

“Spice! Throat!” Eugene coughed out. “M’okay!”

Coral whacked their back and was cursed out for it.

Another set of wings for level five arrived.

You watched with a dropped jaw as your coveted bones were removed.

The new set scorched your nostrils from two seats away and your baby kicked with demands.

“C-can I-?!” You tried to call out to the cook, but his back turned and he was gone.

Donnie fluidly stood from his seat and chased him down.

“Ah…” You sounded your displeasure.

“There’s something!” Eugene took his first bite of wing 50. “Thought they were going easy on me!”

Coral glanced at the clock. “Might do it… Huh!”

“Non-believer!” Eugene shared spittle.

“I’m siding with the winning team.” Kaleb cheered.

“Fair-weather fan!” Coral cursed.

Donnie returned.

“You know what a fair-weather fan is, Dee?” Kaleb went to share the joke.

You sort of saw your husband shake his head, but you were staring at some napkins.

An insane part of you wanted to snort their red blotches.

Not only was that patently gross, it also would have been bad for your skin.

Craving or not, the thought of hot sauce swallowed your rationale.

You wanted it.

Your own food was completely unappetizing.

You only wanted something of that spice caliber.

Nothing else would suffice.

Heat.

Tongue burning.

Gasping for water.

You wanted to choke on it.

It would be all you could taste.

You sucked back up literal drool to wash your mouth out.

“Excuse me.” There was a tap to your shoulder.

You jumped as far as your belly allowed.

Everyone paused at your yelp.

You turned to find a server equally shocked, but still holding onto a small basket of 6 wings. “I-I’m so sorry. Are you alright? You couldn’t hear me, I just thought-!”

You meant to apologize.

Take blame.

Anything.

Except right at eye level was oozing lines of heat.

You could see the steam warping the air.

It came with a scent.

That spice that had been dropping down Eugene’s gullet at a dangerous pace.

The server was still talking and you only looked up at them. “Those are mine?”

“U-Uh! Y-yes!” They offered you the basket.

You smacked the untouched set you had ordered before away.

You heard Coral clear her throat from behind her hand.

You felt Eugene stare.

You didn’t care.

You yanked the wings down and let the smell wash over you.

Your eyes watered.

“Uh…” Kaleb drawled out concern.

“Shh!” Coral hissed.

You selected your first wing and everything else fell away.

There was clearly more than one flavor in the basket, but you didn’t care. Whatever wing was closest was your first choice. If you had been a better friend, you might have paid attention to spice level explanation. You were sure you had an excuse.

Tender flesh reached your lips and you tore into it indelicately.

A moan escaped you.

The lapping heat licked your tongue right back.

You took another bite.

You skirted bone.

The sauce scorched your lips.

It felt divine.

Hellfire washed you clean from inside out.

Each bite siphoned more of that spit down your throat. It burned your esophagus and went further down. Through winding tubes and whatever transformed that mash into something your baby could use. It sucked up the residuals in a form palatable for their development and satisfied that kick count for whatever high reaches it met today.

The basket was empty before your eyes rolled back from their journey to find your brain.

You must have put on quite the display from the state of your tablemates.

Coral was visibly shaking from withheld laughter. The only part of her facing you was her phone and it was clearly taking video. Eugene had fully stopped their challenge to outright gape with a full mouth. You skirted the wad to find Kaleb wearing a frown that was levied by how high his brows were. Even your mate, who had surely seen you at your absolute worst, was staring with uncharacteristically wide eyes per his public persona.

You meant to excuse yourself, but a small burp came out.

It was a feather light topping that offset the scales.

Everyone laughed.

Even Monica, who you had almost forgotten was privy to the party.

“A t-true g-glowing vi-vision!” Coral cackled as her phone shook.

“Give me a break!” You tried to take it.

She snatched it away. “Gross hands! No!”

“I’m not a dog!”

“Don’t eat like one then!”

You went to touch her shirt.

She shrieked.

“The time!” Kaleb suddenly shouted.

Eugene squeaked and dove back into his basket.

“18 minutes left.” Donnie remarked.

“What’re they at?” Kaleb turned back and forth.

“67.” Monica spoke, ready.

“Is that-!?” Kaleb continued to whip back and forth.

“Ahead of schedule.” Donnie said.

“Oh! Fweh!” Kaleb sank into his chair, dropping all concern. “False alarm.”

With a full mouth, Eugene grunted out unintelligible complaints.

Your mouth was on fire.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, but breathing was becoming a bit of a curse.

Each bout of life-sustaining oxygen fanned the embers on your tongue.

It hurt, but you loved the burn.

You thought about asking for another basket.

“Ugh.”

You could barely register what was happening before a napkin smashed into your mouth.

It was your turn to grunt into it.

“You’re drooling!” Coral wiped your chin.

“What the fuck!? I’m not a baby!?”

“Stop acting like one then!”

“Is this some ploy for godparentdom?!”

Coral buckled with guilt.

“Coral, you’re joking.”

“Ha! Ha! Yeah!” She curled away with your used napkin.

“It’s wasn’t a thing!”

“You put me with the hippo!!” She snapped.

“A mutant!” You swatted at her.

This time you made contact.

“This is not me being prejudiced! Don’t you hold that against me!”

“I am and I told you: it wasn’t that serious! Yes, we want godparents, but it was a spur of the moment decision! Mikey asked and I said the first people that came to mind!”

“You don’t just pick based on feeling! I want you to pick me because it should be!”

“If you think it should be you, why are you mad?!”

“I want to earn it!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“Yes! It does! It means something!”

“I know it does! Donnie and I have been discussing it!”

“So you already decided!?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Oscar the Grouch doesn’t discuss. He debates! I know what he thinks of me! He argued against me, I know it!”

“World revolves around you, huh!? That wasn’t even on his mind!”

“So now I’m not even worth considering!?”

“Coral, I swear-!!!”

“Final five!” Kaleb whooped, seemingly unaware.

You and Coral had hands on each other, but both turned in time to see Eugene take their first bite of the spiciest wings in the challenge.

You watched in slow motion.

Their lips hit the meat.

You had to lick your own vestiges.

Eugene tore away and chewed a single time before they appeared to light up.

In something out of a cartoon, you swore you watched the heat travel straight through their face where it bled steam out their ears.

“WHAT THE FUC-!?!” Eugene snorted and the lava must have gone elsewhere because their eyes went wild.

They scoured the table.

“No water!” Monica announced.

Eugene looked up with tears running down their face.

“I m-mean-!” Monica tittered nervously. “Of course, you can, but it would violate the rules of the-!”

“No water!” Kaleb slapped a hand down to the table. “You got this!”

Eugene turned the weepiness toward their captain.

“3 minutes.” Donnie added.

Eugene swallowed and it apparently went down like glass because they wheezed.

“Eu-gene! Eu-gene!” Kaleb started up a chant and stared expectantly across the table.

You and Coral unwove from one another to pump your fists and join the encouragement.

Donnie only joined in only after Monica participated.

Eugene wobbled through their 95 wing.

They sobbed through 96.

By 97 they were dry heaving.

98 came with another choking fit.

Their hands were quaking around 99.

Splatters of the sauce shot out threateningly from the shake.

You swore you could see them burn holes in the table.

Time moved slow and fast.

Eugene was out of pace.

The clock sped by while they lagged.

“10 seconds!” Monica suddenly yelled.

All of Eugene’s speed caught up with them and they deep-throated 99.

The ensuing wretch was heard around the restaurant.

They disappeared from their seat and the only marker of where they had gone was a sauce print on the wall.

The alarm clock beeped out the final time.

Instead of looking after Eugene, everyone looked down at the one untouched wing left in their basket.

The plea bargains came immediately.

“Throwing up is a caveat!”

“Where’s choking on your waiver?!”

“You cannot hold this against them!”

“It’s one wing!!”

As Monica’s hands lifted, the hostess who had set this in motion appeared.

“I’m sorry, everyone. Rules are rules…” She spoke law.

There were grumbles shared.

Eventually Monica departed.

Kaleb eventually coaxed Donnie up to go find Eugene.

Your husband shot you a look and you nodded for him to go.

There was a moment of silence for the failure.

Coral spoke as soon as the quiet set in.

“Wanna eat it?” Coral pointed to the final wing that had been Eugene’s demise.

“You eat it.”

“You were horfing these down a minute ago.”

“Like one through six, not the waiver ones.”

“I’m surprised the restaurant left it here.”

“Isn’t it a liability for the rest of us?”

“Totally must be.”

“Godparent duties if you eat it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, don’t be godmother.”

“Fuck you.”

You laughed.

“I do not care that you’re pregnant. That’s bullshit.”

“You never care.”

“I care about this and you’re being mean about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t really get why.”

“You don’t.” Coral leveled with you.

Her look took your words.

“You don’t.” She repeated with a different inflection.

“You make me want to apologize.” You squirmed in your seat.

“It should be obvious.”

“Coral-”

“Yeah. I get it. It’s not.” She sighed. “Maybe I haven’t tried to talk to you enough. After we stopped doing the pilates together…”

“You got a boyfriend…”

She relented a little. “It’s not like I stopped caring.”

“Of course.”

“I want it. I’m not huge on kids, but this’ll be your kid. I’m in your corner, always have been. They’re gonna be a little extension of you. If anything happened to you…”

You looked her over.

“I’d do it right.” She decided. “Raising them how you’d want.”

You gave her an earnest smile.

She gave her usual awkward air at sincerity.

You gave the moment time to breathe before ruining it for her sake. “Wiping my mouth and trying to get me a booster seat is not a great way to show it.”

“I did not!” She lit up at the shift.

“You did!”

“There’s no booster seat for the current size of your ass.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Coral laughed maniacally.

You elbowed her.

She sent one right back.

Two calm seconds panned out before you were bumping each other’s chairs.

The scraping summoned a server who was clearly too scared to interrupt and ask if everything was alright.

They also spied the wing.

They turned tail for the kitchen.

“Last chance!” You pointed and almost got her eye.

She swatted you away at the last second. “Not on your unborn spawn!”

“Rules are rules!” You mocked.

“Who else besides Hypno!? I know you aren’t giving it to him with that husband of his!”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“I will because I’ll be stuck with them!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

The kitchen doors opened in a telling way.

You both went rigid as the cook came out and headed in your direction.

“Lick it and it’s yours!”

She sat out a beat and the man disappeared behind a pillar on the way.

You kept lookout.

“One lick!”

You watched her reach out.

A single digit emerged from the rest.

You waited for the bluff.

It never came.

She made contact and hid the sauce laden finger back on her person, just as the cook arrived.

“Apologies! Let me get this for you!” The man took only the one basket.

You both watched him go with the intent of prey animals before looking at where Coral had cradled her hand to her chest.

You heard her gulp.

You saw her shudder.

She inhaled deep to steady herself before bringing her hand up.

You caught her wrist before it got too close to her extended tongue. “I was joking!”

“You were?!”

“Yeah! I didn’t think you would-! That sent someone to the hospital!”

“It’s pretty hard to tell!”

“I would not make you eat some death wing to make you my kid’s back-up plan!”

She pointed the poison at you.

You caught a napkin and wiped it away. “Careful!”

She frowned for a moment before it turned into a pout.

“You can ask.” You wadded up the napkin and safely tucked it away so no one might accidentally use it. “Officially.”

“Does that mean-?”

“Of course, you’re the godmother.”

“Thank fuck!” She threw her arms up and lolled into her chair with a clanging of its legs.

“There’s two positions anyway!. Hypno was up for the other, you realized that, right?”

She made a face.

“What is with you?! I thought you liked him!”

“I do! I just-!” She made a disgruntled noise. “Like I don’t want it to be Nelson. He’s not cut out for it and also I feel like that’s us going too fast, but I guess I thought it would be… I don’t know…! That… your stupid hubby got his pick too. You too are always so gross with your shared grossness. He’s been branching out. Making friends and being almost a person, so…” Her mouth went as small as it could. “I know he’s not picking Hypno and he’s like… inspiring or… something… I guess…”

You blinked.

“It’s whatever! Goals! Ugh! Is that what you want to hear?!” She folded her arms.

“Goals… as in…?”

“You two! I don’t know!”

“Like…?”

“Like relationship. Through all the shit. It’s crazy how you two are. Parent goals. I wish my parents were one tenth of the Grinch.”

“The Grinch being Donnie.”

“Hell, I’ll take the cartoon guy. He treated that dog pretty well.”

“Coral…” You moved to hug her.

“Gross! Don’t!” She gave no actual resistance.

You had to twist your body to reach.

Gas moved.

You felt the bubble.

A harmless burp.

Until the bile chased it.

The noise you made was gaseous and made Coral actually flinch away.

“Oh shit, are you gonna throw up too?!”

“N-no!” You covered your mouth and could smell the spice.

It burned straight up as it mixed with the battery acid of your stomach.

“Ugh… Heartburn…” You choked it down and went for water.

“They have to have milk.” Coral looked around. “Or ice cream?”

“Yeah…” The acid retreated without the threat of coming out, though sometimes you wished it would.

Instead, you would be burping like this for the next few hours.

Or days based on the level of heat on those wings.

You didn’t curse your baby, but a small part of you groaned at its insistence on pain.

You burped again on your own terms to try to circumvent the next one and groaned.

“They’re avoiding us, I swear.” She looked around.

You sank back into your chair and felt the usual pressure of your bladder.

Getting up was going to exacerbate things.

There was no fighting it.

“I’ll be right back.” You told your companion.

“To throw up?” She checked earnestly.

“Nah, gonna pee. Get me ice cream though.”

“As soon as someone comes!” She huffed. “What flavor?”

“Vanilla’s fine.”

“I’ll see if they have better.”

You smiled and left. You sort of registered the others hadn’t returned, but focused more on the trip. You had to weave through tables and groups to get across the bar. There weren't any sports events that you knew were playing and the TVs seemed to confirm that. They sat on and useless, showing replays with sportscasters talking over smaller images. You paid them little mind as you found the break in the wall that clearly led to the restrooms.

Down the hallway leading to them, you saw the family stall was propped open and the sound of a tap running full steam leaked out.

“You okay, man?”

It was Kaleb’s voice and you slowed.

No one responded and the soft rush from the sink continued.

“I can’t be sure, but you’ve been weird since I mentioned the big guy…”

You didn’t chance peeking and only crept closer.

“Raph can crack bones with his jaw pressure right? I thought he’d be a beast with wings.” Kaleb went on.

Even with the static, you heard the exhale of your husband.

“Something happened…” Kaleb spoke his realization. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t realize things had gone south again.”

“No… That’s not-” Donnie tried.

Something beeped. “Switch eyes.”

You heard a babble of Eugene and the water pitch shifted as something was moved under it.

You really wished you could see.

“All good, we’ll get it all out. Just hang in there.” Kaleb ushered.

Eugene gurgled a response.

Your friend must have had their head in the sink.

“But, yeah. Sorry. I won’t bring him up again.” Kaleb continued.

“We… No…” Donnie struggled. “It was… me. I was excessively cruel.”

“I mean-”

“I was.” Donnie pressed.

Kaleb relented with a popped vowel.

“I don’t know what to do.” There was a thump against a wall.

“Yeah?”

“How do I…? How can I… apologize?”

“It’s not like they apologized to you.” Kaleb spoke knowingly.

“Raphael did.” Donnie said simply. “Raph…”

There was some quiet.

“He did.”

You heard a clap like a hand on a shoulder.

“Our acquaintance was fragile. No fixing disrepair.”

“From engineer to scientist, we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t hear a response.

“It’s all about creative solutions in our line of work. So what are we thinking?”

“Kaleb…” Donnie sounded exhausted.

“I know you’ve thought of something.”

“It’s unreasonable. You understand unusable theory. Hypothesis best kept-”

“Donatello.”

Your mate went silent.

“Just hit me. Safe space. It’s a bathroom. The safest of spaces. Holiest of tiles!”

Eugene made an affirmative noise.

You could almost see Donnie taking in the definition and adding it to his notes on behavior.

You didn’t disagree, but you might amend that one.

“I would need a gesture. Something meaningful.”

“Mhm…”

“The godfather position…”

Only the water droned on.

“But that entails my child, mine, falling in with the Hamato! That can’t possibly-!”

“Raph… he’s… good with kids, right?”

Donnie said nothing.

“He runs those dojos. He, like, exclusively works with kids. We went to that one city-wide match. It was crazy. The kids loved him. The parents loved him.”

Eugene’s hair would have been soaked through.

“Didn’t he quit the family? I mean obviously he didn’t, but like he put his foot down. He’s had enough of it. I don’t know him like you, but I don’t know… I can see him… If something happened to you… giving up everything. Dropping it all to take on that new duty. I’m not vouching for it, you can do whatever, but it’s not that bad of an idea. It’s a big gesture. He goes soft at the slightest thing. You offer him this and he’s definitely going to cry. ”

There was quiet again and the rushing water was getting to you.

Your bladder ached.

You shifted stance to try to alleviate pressure.

It did little.

It rarely did these days.

Your limit was your limit.

“I admit I’ve… considered such…” Donnie murmured.

You pulled the closest bathroom door and ducked inside.

You checked and saw that there was a mechanism to close it quietly and did your business.

You emerged in time to see a soaked wet cat of Eugene send you a blood red glance.

“What happened?!” You quaked to fuss over them.

“Vomit in my eyes. I do not want to talk about it.” They glared as much as their swollen eyes could before continuing along and leaving drips behind.

“We got most of it.” Kaleb was next in line.

Donnie nodded and looked worn.

You smiled at him and he came to join you.

“You good? The wings get you?” Kaleb wondered, not put out by third-wheeling.

You slipped your arms through Donnie’s. “Nah, classic gotta pee business.”

“Truth.” Kaleb’s head bobbed and you headed back to the table.

Eugene was there with their face in a bowl of ice cream.

Each place setting had a specific scoop set and Coral smirked over her dominion.

“Nice!” You dropped down hard in your seat and grabbed a spoon.

Eugene sighed dreamily.

“They… good…? They look like shit.” Coral asked with a thrown thumb before she got eyes on Kaleb and Donnie. “Are you guys good? You look like shit too.”

Kaleb popped the wet prints on his shirt with pride before taking his ice cream bowl. “It’s called friendship. This is mine. Wiping drool is yours.”

“Like you were in the running! Shoe weirdo!” She teased.

“Do not besmirch cutie baby booties in front of my ice cream!” Kaleb pretended to cover his dish’s ears. “Don’t worry. Mean old Cor’ didn’t mean it.”

Coral rolled her eyes.

Donnie reviewed his ice cream like a child given some kind of consolation prize for being good at the dentist.

His metaphorical drilled tooth hurt too much to enjoy the treat.

You took your bite while toeing for him under the table.

His long legs weren’t too hard to find.

He looked up at you tepidly.

You sent him a smile that held all your thoughts on the matter you had both discussed already. He reviewed you with a steadying breath before moving to take a bite of his own.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

🎵I just want to celebrate ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉ my betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup 🎵

#softspotfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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truantng · 9 months ago

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118/366 Linktree

#daily doodle #hambone #meat #I don't have any ideas for tags on this one #I think I was short on time when I drew this and I had to run some errands #Welp lol #truant

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steddiehyperfixation · 1 year ago

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don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand.

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar.

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken.

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-”

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him.

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement.

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?”

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?”

Yet again, he receives no answers.

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?”

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest.

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.”

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears.

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher.

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-”

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.”

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore.

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington.

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…”

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?”

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-”

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?”

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue.

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…”

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.”

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.”

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.”

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here.

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room.

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat.

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?”

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.”

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.”

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?”

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.”

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

#i have plans to fix it don't worry. eventually. maybe #i'm really really bad at writing longer multi-part fics but i've got a lot of ideas spinning around my head for this one so #hopefully i will continue it if any of y'all are interested in more of this #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #fanfic #mine #1k #dyfamsteddiefic #<- tag to follow for this story

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