#I have lots of plushs but every other year or so I just suddenly get the craving to have one more

[abbey-abdominal]

If I don’t get a Zooble plush soon I’m going to go apeshit

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader

genre: smut, MDNI!

warnings: mean!jay, brat!reader, a looot of bickering lol, degradation, jay is a little manipulative, nipple play?, oral (f & m receiving, head pusher!jay), unprotected sex (hell no), cumming inside (+ lmk if i missed anything!!)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: biggest thank you to my favorite jay girly, my other half and the one who motivated me to start writing on here in the first place. thank you for proofreading a lot and for letting me yap 24/7, this one's for you mwah @sudi109

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

mature content under cut, minors do NOT interact!

2:47am, your phone read when you grabbed it with a sigh after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like an eternity. the heat in your room felt oppressing – the flimsy sheets might as well have been a double blanket and your pajamas felt like a winter coat despite barely covering any skin.

with a sigh, you got up from bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. with each step down the stairs you felt the air getting just a little cooler and your tense muscles relaxing just a little more.

you flicked on the light above the sink, before grabbing a glass from the top shelf. it slipped right through your sweaty palms and landed directly in the sink before you could catch it. it didn't break, but the noise cut through the silence of the night so loudly and suddenly that you were sure it could have woken up at least half of the neighborhood.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, wiping off your sweaty palms on your silky shorts and carefully grabbing the glass from the sink.

just as you thought no one had heard your little accident, a sudden, sleep-laced voice broke the silence again and startled you to a point you almost dropped the glass another time.

"are you kidding me?"

you didn't have to turn around to know it was jay's oh so humble self standing in the kitchen door.

"enlighten me, what's your problem this time?" you asked, although you knew the answer. you kept your back to him as you filled the glass with ice cubes and cold water, waiting for him to reply.

jay's jaw clenched at your words. you had woken him up, just as he'd fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning on the sofa, trying to somehow ignore the heat that pressed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry. and now you had the audacity to ask stupid questions?

"it took me forever to fall asleep and you wake me up cause you can't even hold onto a glass?" he snapped. his voice sounded less sleepy now – still raspy but regaining the usual edge he had to it whenever he was talking to you.

he was your brother's best friend and you'd known him since forever. you were sure the two of you had gotten along back then, when jake brought him over for the first time – sometime in his first year of high school when you were still in middle school. but just a little later, he'd started to pick fights with you every chance he got, which eventually led to him mostly ignoring you, and if he did talk to you, his voice always had that annoyed undertone.

for a moment, you didn't say anything, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip, letting the cold run down your throat and hoping it would somehow also cool off the anger that started to bubble up in your chest.

as you stayed silent, jay's gaze remained on you, only now noticing the light blue silk pajamas you were wearing. they were unnervingly short – more skin than fabric, really – and it annoyed him even more how the shorts outlined your ass perfectly, your plush cheeks just slightly exposed from how little coverage the piece of clothing provided.

when you finally turned around, his eyes shot up to your face immediately. you took in the sight in front of you: jay's messy hair and the way his shirt clung to his torso a little more than it usually would – you were pleased to see that he was suffering from the summer heat as much as you were.

"well," you broke the staring contest between the two of you, involuntarily trying to look meaner than the other, "if you didn't sleep in my living room, maybe you wouldn't have to bother me."

jay's eyebrows shot up at your remark. "or if you were a decent person for once and weren't so inconsiderate–"

"i'm inconsiderate?" you interrupted him. "that's rich coming from someone who moved in here two weeks ago and thinks he can make the rules," you huffed.

jay's jaw clenched another time as he took a step toward you, but you didn't back down. you looked up at him, returning the same fiercey look he gave you.

"you think it's fun living with you of all people?" he asked through gritted teeth, his taller figure hovering over you.

"no, but it's not my fault your girlfriend kicked you out," you replied, keeping your voice steady although your heart started to pound in your chest at the way his eyes narrowed slightly. yet, a tiny pang of amusement at how your words seemed to affect him joined the nervousness of wondering how far you could push him before he snapped.

oh, now you were curious.

"honestly, i'm not surprised," you added, your voice not faltering even when he stepped so close your bodies practically touched. "if you were only half as much of an asshole–"

"shut. up." he snapped, accenting each word.

the corners of your lips shot up into a smug grin. "can't stand me talking back to you?"

"i can't stand you in total."

"i never would have guessed," you replied sarcastically, taking a step back to casually lean your back against the kitchen counter. you brought the glass of water up to your neck letting the cold condensed water on its outside cool your skin. "wonder why you hate me so much, though. i don't remember pissing in your cereal when we were kids."

jay's jaw tightened even more. he was so annoyed. there you were, standing in the stupid kitchen with your stupidly short pajamas showing way too much of your skin that looked so. stupidly. soft. and you were bashing him, although he should be the one to talk you down right now. god, he couldn't stand you and how fucking hot you looked when you were snappy.

"you just make it hard not to," he replied, his voice laced with more annoyance than you'd ever heard from him before.

you chuckled at his words, the sound making his blood boil even more. what was so funny about him being annoyed, borderline angry?

"listen, jay bae," you said sarcastically as you put the glass down on the counter behind you, "if you want to stay with me and jake, you'll stop acting like i'm some kind of tragedy. you either ignore me, or you at least pretend to get along with me. deal?"

for a few moments, he just looked at you, his eyes still full of frustration. then, he suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching for the back of your neck and his lips crashing onto yours harshly.

you were too shocked by his sudden action and the rush of warmth flooding through you to react. he pulled back just as quickly as he'd leaned in, leaving your lips cold with the shadow of his, and looked at you as if searching your eyes for a reaction.

"what the fuck?" you asked, still taken aback.

you wanted to take a step back, but the kitchen counter was already pressing against your back. jay smirked at the shocked expression on your face.

"i said shut up," he repeated his words from earlier that night, as if that would suddenly validate that he'd kissed you. he placed his hands on the counter directly next to your body, trapping you between him and the cold marble surface.

"you don't get to–"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. you felt his breath against your skin, and despite the heat he radiated, you shivered – your words caught in your throat.

you could have pushed him away – should have pushed him away, really – but instead, you stood there, too stunned to move, with your heart violently pounding in your chest.

his hands found their way from the kitchen counter to your hips, fingertips pressing into your clothed skin in a way that made you almost feel his frustration.

the warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. you could feel your breath coming faster and your mind growing foggy as his lips traced a line to your collarbone, leaving a heat that shot right down to your core.

“w-what are you doing?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

"pretending that we get along," his lips brushed against your neck as he replied.

your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands under the thin fabric of your silk top, his fingers digging into the skin on your waist as he held you.

you wanted to push him away, really. everything told you to do so. but instead your hand found its way to the back of his head, pushing him towards your neck again. you couldn't make sense of it, but the way his lips brushed harshly against your skin, and the way you fisted his hair slightly whenever his teeth grazed against your skin, felt like you could finally let out the frustration that had been building up over the past two weeks of living with him.

"you're so goddamn annoying," he mumbled, pulling away from your neck only to push your top up your torso, over your head, and mindlessly discarded it on the floor.

just as you were about to cover your bare skin, he attached his lips to it again, moving from your neck to your collarbones and down to your chest. his hands found their way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing you to shiver, despite the hot summer air. you bit your lip to hold back a moan, yet you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue against you.

"speechless suddenly?" he asked as he pulled off and brought his lips to the other side of your chest.

"fuck you," you mumbled back before quickly pressing your lips together. your fingers were still tangled in his hair, keeping him close to you, but you would not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

"a little more patience," he grinned, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin another time.

his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the situation. you shouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place, much less help him to take off your top by voluntarily lifting up your arms. as the realization hit, you quickly pulled him off of you.

"you're disgusting," you said, trying your best to not sound as breathless as you felt.

"oh please," he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place as you attempted to pick up your shirt, "the way you're acting, you're practically asking for it."

"asking?" you echoed in disbelief. he was insufferable. "you have too much of an ego, don't you think?"

jay narrowed his eyes. "no, i think it's the truth," he said, letting go of your wrist and leaning down to your neck another time.

you swallowed hard. "stop playing games, jay," you said in a warning tone, yet you didn't push him away as his teeth grazed your skin again.

"you started the 'game', and you're losing it, darling," he replied, the nickname dripping with sarcasm.

you hated to admit he was right. maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind, or maybe it was cause the air was so unnervingly thin, but his touch sent shiver after shiver down your spine, covering you in goosebumps and sending waves of heat through your body all at once. even his annoying words started settling between your legs and no matter how much you pressed your things together, it just wouldn't stop.

"look at you," jay said in an amused tone as his eyes flicked down to your legs, your thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other, "bet you soaked your pretty panties for me and i didn't even touch you."

a wave of heat shot up to your face. you didn't know if it was from embarassment or anger, but you didn't bother trying to hide it. "oh please, jay, you couldn't even make me cum if your life depended on it," you said, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

he looked up, his eyes flashing with something you didn't understand as they met yours. "bet," was all he said before sliding your flimsy shorts down your legs, making sure to cup and squeeze your ass just once after he'd taken them off.

before you could react, he knelt down in front of you, harshly grabbed your thighs to spread your legs, and pressed his tongue flat against your clothed core.

your knees buckled slightly at the sudden contact, and you swore you could feel jay's stupid grin. "like i said. soaked." he murmured as he pulled the wet piece of fabric to the side.

"shut up," you whispered, not quite trusting your voice when the way you felt his breath against your wet core already caused you to clench around nothing.

"someone's sensitive," he whispered back, the airflow hitting your skin yet again.

"i said shut up," you repeated, and without wasting another thought, you grabbed his hair and harshly pulled him to where you needed him the most.

jay immediately licked a stripe along your folds, humming in satisfaction. "mouth so dirty but your pussy's so sweet," he mumbled against your skin before focusing his tongue on your clit.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again shortly after, as you failed to suppress a quiet moan. the sound went straight to jay's cock, causing him to hum against you another time as he sped up his movements, eager to pull another moan out of you.

he succeeded when he pushed his tongue into your leaking hole and his nose brushed against your clit. you sounded so sweet, he could cum only listening to you – but he'd never admit that.

you pulled on his hair harsher, subconsciously bucking your hips forward for him to reach deeper, as your legs started to shake more. jay grabbed one of them and rested it on his shoulder, never stopping to lap up everything your cunt gave him.

just as you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs closing around jay's head with a force that almost made him dizzy, he pulled back.

your eyes shot open and you looked down to him with an almsot bewildered expression on your face. he looked so hot with your slick covering his lips, his chin and parts of his nose, but right now you really just wanted to punch that stupid grin off his lips.

"seriously?" you asked as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "i was so close to–"

"so i could make you cum," he cut you off with the same annoying grin.

you didn't reply. instead, you tried to bend down to grab your clothes from the kitchen floor, but jay held your wrist again.

as he didn't let go even after you'd shot him a glare, you rolled your eyes. "congratulations, jay. do you want a trophy for your efforts? i didn't think you were so committed to win the gold medal in orgasm delivery–"

"shut up, will you?" jay interrupted, the smirk quickly replaced by his usual annoyed demeanor. "you're playing so hard to get when–"

"maybe you're just hard to want," you cut him off again, but he only raised his eyebrows.

"right," he replied, sliding one finger through your folds and collecting your wetness, the sudden contact drawing a surprised whimper from you. you quickly bit your lip, mentally cursing yourself for letting the sound slip.

"doesn't seem like 'hard to want'."

you glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze. without another word, jay grabbed your arms and turned both of you around so he was standing with his back against the counter and you were in front of him.

before you could open your mouth to speak, jay placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pressed down, causing you to sink to your knees in front of him.

"so much talking when you could just put that damn mouth of yours to use," he murmured.

the words made you gulp, but for some reason, they also sent a new wave of excitement through you.

one of his hands moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "let's see if you can only talk big or if you're actually useful for something, hm?" he asked, the tone of his voice almost soft.

the question annoyed you as much as it challenged you. eager to prove him wrong, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them and his boxers down in one go, and only hesitating slightly when his hard cock sprang free.

"backing down?" jay cooed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

you didn't reply, just wrapped one hand around his length, gliding your thumb over his leaking slit to use the precum as lubricant, before slowly pumping your hand up and down.

jay hissed at the contact, his hand tightening around your chin and the other gripping the counter behind him to steady himself.

his reaction made your lips curl up in a victorious smile, but you knew you could do better. you stopped your movements, waited for him to look down at you with a puzzled face, and licked a stripe from his base up to his very top. you closed your lips around it and swirled your tongue just for a second before releasing it again while looking up at him through your lashes.

jay groaned quietly, his hand leaving your chin and finding its way to the back of your head instead, where he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pushing your head closer to him again. his other hand reached to tap on your lips, which you wordlessly parted just enough to close them around his tip again.

jay pushed your head closer, letting you take his length into your mouth – inch by inch until you gagged around him and he grinned smugly.

"can't take more?" he teased, but you were determined to wipe that damn grin off his face.

you breathed in through your nose and moved your head forward in one go until your nose hit his pelvis and you could feel his tip against the back of your throat, swallowing around it to suppress another gag.

the feeling drew a surprised moan from jay that caused you to look up at him with teary eyes. you swallowed again, humming in satisfaction as you received the same reaction.

"c-can't believe you're actually good at something," jay stammered. "do that again."

you obeyed, the feeling causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to shoot back with another quiet moan.

he slowly pulled your head off his cock only to harshly push it back forward again after you'd swirled your tongue around his tip. he continued, his movements growing faster and rougher as his hips started to thrust forward every time he brought your head close – hitting the back of your throat each time, while you tried your best to not gag and he tried his best to not moan too loudly, not wanting jake to hear.

your hands reached to grab his thighs, attempting to somehow ground yourself when he slammed his hips forward another time. your jaw was tense, your eyes were burning from the tears that dared to roll down your cheeks, your head hurt from the force with which jay pulled your hair together, and yet all you could think about was finally making him cum and proving him wrong.

as his hips stuttered and his breaths started coming ragged, he held you in place, your nose pressed against his abdomen and the tip of his cock against the back of your throat. you eagerly hollowed your cheeks and swallowed again, pushing him over the edge.

"stay there," he ordered in between quiet moans. you felt his cock twitching as ropes of his cum ran down your throat. you quickly swallowed, yet couldn't stop a little from running down your chin as he finally pulled off.

you quickly wiped your chin with the back of your hand and stood up on shaky legs, shivering at how your arousal made your thighs stick together.

jay looked at you, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "hard to want, hm?"

"my god, fine. just fuck me already," you replied, your voice laced with frustration, which caused his lips to curl up into a little smile.

he turned you around and firmly pressed his hand on your back to guide your chest down onto the cool marble countertop.

"beg for it," he said in the most casual way possible.

you turned your head back and looked at him in disbelief. "seriously now?" you tried to stand up straight, not willing to feed his enormous ego more by begging, but his hand stayed firm on your back as his other slowly pumped his cock a few times before he guided his tip up and down your sensitive folds.

you clenched your fists, trying to move your hips back against his, but jay stepped back.

"i said beg for it," he repeated sternly.

when you hesitated, he lifted his hand from your back, attempting to step away fully. you squinted your eyes and mumbled out a quiet "please." you felt the embarrassment wash over you, but you just really wanted to finally feel him.

"what was that?" jay asked, stepping closer again.

you sighed. "please, jay," you repeated, still quiet but a little clearer than before. a hint of relief rushed through you as you felt jay's hand on your back and the tip of his cock against your needy hole again.

"please what?"

srew that. you were desperate but not desperate enough to ruin your pride entirely.

"you know what, fuck off, i–"

the words caught in your throat as jay suddenly pushed his entire length into your aching hole, knocking the air out of you. the stretch was so intense that you desperately searched for something to hold onto, but jay didn't give you any time to adjust as he pulled out almost entirely only to snap his hips forward harshly again, drawing a chocked moan from you when his tip hit your cervix.

"gonna finally put you in your fucking place," he said, hissing at the way your walls sucked him in so perfectly with each thrust.

"j-jay..." you whimpered once the pain gave way to pleasure, hating yourself for giving in to him, but also not caring enough to make him stop.

he groaned lowly at the way his name rolled off your tongue, mixing perfectly with the sounds of your wetness and his skin slapping against yours.

"takin' me so well," he mumbled in between his thrusts. you felt so warm and tight around him, the moans you tried to muffle clouding his mind until there was nothing left but you and the way you felt.

the sudden praise caused you to clench around him involuntarily. his hands moved to grab your hips, holding you in place as he continued to pound into you. he looked down to where your bodies connected, watching as his cock disappeared in your pretty cunt with each thrust.

"you're so stupid," he muttered, slipping back into the way he alway spoke to you, "for ever letting other idiots have their way with you when i was right there all the time," he blabbered out, slamming his hips into yours even harder.

you wanted to speak back, but each thrust knocked the air out of your lungs all over again as you placed your hands on top of his to somehow ground yourself.

"so tight for me," he mumbled at the way your walls clenched around him the closer you came to your high. "mhh, so wet"

"o-only for you," you managed to slur, way too far gone to realize what you'd just said, only focusing on the tight knot in your stomach that was dangerously close to snapping.

"jay, i-", you cut off as your orgasm washed over you in waves, each feeling heavier than the one before. jay brought one of his hands to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans as his own high hit him at how strongly you clenched down on him.

you felt his cock twitching inside you before the warm ropes of his cum painted your walls white. he thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and less energetic, riding out his high, before coming to a halt.

he took a few seconds to catch his breath. then, he quickly pulled out of you, the sudden feeling making you hiss. as you slowly lifted your chest from the counter, turning around on wobbly knees, jay had already pulled up his shorts again.

he bent down, picked up your pajamas and threw them in your direction. you caught them, wordlessly putting them back on as the reality of what had just happened started to crash down on you.

jay walked past you, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before giving you one last glance and heading toward the door.

"wait," you held him back. he turned around to look at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

"what," you hesitated, "what... are we doing now?" you asked, averting your eyes and looking at the floor in front of you instead.

jay shrugged. "pretending that it never happened," he said casually before walking out the door.

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[2amriize]

hiii can u do bsf riize obliviously in love with bsfreader !!

˚⟡˖ when he is obliviously in love with you— RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

genre fluff

pairing bsf!riize x bsf!reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

You could tell Shotaro was in love with you by the way he always tried to make you laugh. He would always try to cheer you up, and he’d be especially concerned when he saw you feeling down or sad. He’d show up at your house with your favorite food and a small plush toy—one of the many he had already given you as part of your growing collection. Then, the two of you would settle on your couch, and he would put his arm around your shoulder.

"You know I'll always be by your side, right?"

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

He would always have his eyes on you. Everyone could tell that whenever you were around, he couldn't stop looking at you, always with a small smile on his face. He would practically treat you like his girlfriend. He’d stand on the side of the road if you were walking together, put his hand on your waist if there were a lot of people around, and buy things that reminded him of you. You found it very cute that he did these kinds of things for you, but since he never asked you out, you thought he was just being (very) nice to you.

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

It was kind of obvious with Sungchan by the way he was super protective of you. He always wanted to accompany you to parties and keep an eye on you so no strange guy would approach you. Or rather, so no guy in general would approach you. More than protective, he couldn’t stand it when a guy started talking to you, so he’d always end up coming over to say, "y/n, I need to talk to you," just to pull you aside and then say, "oh, I forgot what I wanted to say..."

ᯓ★ WONBIN

He would blush. He’d blush and get a bit shy every time you were around. Even though you had known each other for years and talked almost every day, he couldn’t help but let out the occasional nervous laugh whenever he was with you. He also tended to send you a lot of messages, something he didn’t do with anyone else.

"Oh, that character looks like you. It’s really cute," he’d say every time he saw a character he found adorable.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

I feel like Seunghan would be quite direct, so it confused you a lot. You had been friends for years, but a few months ago, the way he treated you had changed. You realized it one day when you were walking around your neighborhood while having ice cream. You were basically wearing your pajamas, with a sweatshirt on top in case it got cold, but Seunghan couldn’t stop looking at you. Suddenly, he took out his phone and snapped a picture of you while smiling.

“What are you doing, Seunghan? Delete that, I’m literally in pajamas.”

“Wow, you’re literally an angel. I think I’ll make this my wallpaper…”

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee had always been cheerful and playful with you, and he loved teasing you. But lately, his personality when you were together had changed a bit. Now, every time you were close to him, you could sense a subtle tension in the air, a mix of nervousness and something else you hadn’t felt before. There were also many awkward silences, and you had caught him staring at you several times. His gestures had changed too. It was now more common for him to offer you his jacket when it was cold. Recently, he had even made you a playlist titled "To My Soulmate."

ᯓ★ ANTON

Oh… You could tell, but from his posts and reposts. He wouldn’t stop talking about how much he liked someone, that he couldn’t stop thinking about someone, etc., etc. But whenever you asked him who he was talking about, he’d ignore the subject or simply say, "Oh, just a girl I know," while avoiding your gaze, which made it even more obvious. Plus, everyone kept telling you how Anton would always talk about you to everyone when you weren’t around.

“I wish y/n was here…”

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

[xo-cori]

as sweet as the sound

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: she’s undeniably talented, but your girlfriend is just a bit too self-critical of her work.

warnings: smut (MDNI), fingersucking, ellie is a filthy bottom idc, they’re a lil high but who isn’t in this economy

a/n: inspired by the piano scene in duck butter… iykyk. title from “to noise making (sing)” by hozier ofc

Every movement of her fingers against the frets of her guitar has your heart doing flips inside your chest.

She plays an unfamiliar melody. One you’re sure she’s come up with on the spot, which is something she seems to be doing a lot lately. It’s adorable, the way she looks up at you every few seconds to see that captivated expression on your face. Not once has it faltered, and it’s become her biggest inspiration.

You’re sat against the headboard, legs crossed as you watch her from where she sits; right in the middle of the bed, guitar in her lap with a laser-sharp focus.

It doesn’t matter what the next day holds. It doesn’t matter what’s happened every day before this one. The world has gone to madness, but none of that matters here in this dim cocoon of music and smoke.

You reach over to the bedside table so you can press the end of the joint into the ash tray, putting out the flames so that you can set it down. “Sounds so pretty, Els,” you say. “Haven’t heard you sing tonight, though.”

She stops playing for a moment, eyes widening at your words. “Oh– uh, I don’t have anything to sing.” She admits. “It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written something good, actually.”

“You’ve been doing improv all night. What’s different about singing?” You ask.

“The difference is, I suck at improv.” She replies, which makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, I haven’t noticed any mistakes.” You say.

“Because you don’t know the difference between a B sharp and a B flat.” She laughs. “What, you aren’t satisfied with my performance?”

You shake your head. “Oh, I’m satisfied. Just a little underwhelmed.”

She seems taken aback by this, which leads you to let out a quiet laugh. “Joking. I have an idea, though.”

Ellie’s ready to ask about this idea until you begin crawling towards her. The words die in her throat as you place your hands on her knees, leaning over her guitar, then pressing your lips to hers. It’s soft; something simple and loving, though it makes her body feel unbearably hot.

Then, much to her disappointment, you pull back. “What are you doing?” She asks.

“Nothing. Just keep playing.” You instruct her, even though her hands are frozen in place as you continue to crawl until you’re sat on your knees behind her. She feels your warm breath on her neck, the way you press up against her back, and it’s all too much for her to take in at once. “I told you to keep playing,” you whisper right next to her ear.

Hesitantly, Ellie strums a random chord. Then another, and a few more. You wait for her to get back into a rhythm before you slowly run your hands up her waist, under her sweatshirt. Her breath hitches. Suddenly, the guitar sounds like it hasn’t been tuned in years. You don’t seem to mind, though, because it only gets worse when your lips find the crook of her neck. She leans back into you and lets out a shaky sigh. “You’re the worst.” She huffs.

“I’m just making you sing.” You reply.

Your fingers explore the familiar plain of skin as your lips suck bruises right beneath her jaw. Each time the music pauses, she notices, you slow down; and she doesn’t like this one bit, so she does her best to keep playing.

This relentless teasing only continues for a minute or two, but to Ellie, it feels like hours. It really isn’t long before one of your hands finally slip past her stomach until your palm meets the plush skin of her breast. Her fingers flex and falter against the neck of the guitar as you caress her, your other hand quickly coming up to join in on the fun. There’s no sound from Ellie but a gasp, which just isn’t good enough for you.

Her back arches up against you as you take her nipple between your thumb and forefinger, knowing just how sensitive she is and using it to your advantage. This earns you a hushed whimper, your cue to keep going, because you’ve heard just how loud she can be. The guitar doesn’t seem to be making much noise, though.

“Ellie.” You warn, and she immediately strums another note, no longer caring which one (or whether it’s a note at all). It’s not like you’d notice. She’s only terrified that you’ll stop otherwise. As a reward, you begin to roll both of her nipples between your fingers and her mouth falls open into a perfect ‘o’, head falling back against your shoulder.

“Please,” she whines, “please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” You smirk. The guitar is starting to sound worse and worse. “Why? You want more?”

She hums a desperate mm-hmm, and though you’d like to make her beg a little harder, you’re starting to get pretty eager yourself. “Okay.” You give in. “But remember– you stop playing, I stop touching you.”

You don’t wait for any type of response before you’re sliding your right hand down past the waistband of her boxers, wasting no time to find its favorite spot between her legs. She’s already soaked, you think, and it’s a nice boost for your ego. “Fuck,” she groans as your middle finger draws tight circles over her clit. You can feel her muscles tensing, as if she’s struggling to keep her thighs from closing around your hand with the guitar in her way. Finally, you listen as she lets out a soft string of moans, every one unintentionally melodic.

You press a kiss beneath her ear, left hand still shamelessly groping at her chest. “So sensitive tonight,” you coo, “maybe you have a thing for multitasking.”

“Shut up– holy shit,” Ellie pants out, visibly struggling to keep a firm grasp of the guitar. She wants nothing more than to throw this old piece of wood on the ground, but she won’t; only because you’ve told her not to.

Slowly, your fingers slide down through her folds until you can slip them right inside of her. There’s no resistance– quite the opposite, actually– her warm walls clench down and suck you in further. It’s almost pathetic how loudly she moans when you curl your fingers upwards. You can feel the shiver that goes down her spine as you immediately zero in on that one spot with each gentle thrust, while the pad of your thumb attacks her clit. Neither of you can hear the guitar anymore, despite each unpleasant sound it makes.

“Let me stop,” Ellie pleads. “Please, let me stop playing?”

“But you know how much I love your songs,” you say, a fake tone of disappointment in your voice. “I didn’t say you could stop, so I don’t know why you’re asking.”

“I know– fuck, I-I’m sorry–“ She’s cut off by a particularly loud moan, and you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you. As an apology, though, you bring your lips back to her neck and lick a long stripe from her collarbone up to her jaw.

It’s all too much, all at once, and sheer panic runs through Ellie’s body. Each chord she plays is drawn out with a long pause between, as if she keeps forgetting the demand she’s been given. With your hands all over and your hot mouth right on her pulse point, she can’t help the way her body curls back into you. “Gonna cum,” she gasps. “Can I? Please?”

You smile against her neck. “Already?”

Normally, she’d get frustrated by your teasing, but it seems that she doesn’t really process your words. She just nods and lets out another beautiful moan.

Then, you take your hand out of her sweatshirt so you can grab her guitar and toss it to the other side of the bed. Ellie whimpers in relief as you speed up your thrusts and take the lobe of her ear between your teeth. “Go ahead,” you hum.

That’s all the permission she needs. Her hand comes down to cup yours over the dampened fabric of her boxers, an attempt to keep you right there like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Fuck, oh my god, thank you,” Ellie cries out, thighs finally clamping down onto your hand, though your pace doesn’t falter. You work her through her orgasm as she screws her eyes shut and takes a white-knuckled grip of the bedsheets. Her body shudders and, after a few long moments, melts right into yours.

You don’t slow down until she weakly grabs at your wrist, though she doesn’t fight when you go back to gently rubbing at her clit. It’s slow, enough to calm her through the aftershocks while you listen to her hoarse whimpers and sighs. She’s gone completely limp against you now, focusing on keeping still as she fights off the urge to tug your hand away completely. “There we go,” you smile.

Finally, you remove your hand from her boxers– but you aren’t done with her yet. Without another word, you slip your coated fingers past her lips, which close around your knuckles with no hesitation. Her tongue licks you clean as she moans at the lingering taste of herself. It feels as though all of her bones have turned to dust, though you don’t seem to mind. This only lasts for a few seconds before you take your fingers out of her mouth so that you can wrap your arms around her. “That was a hell of a performance.” You tell her.

“Fuck you.” She breathes. “Never do that again.”

“But you liked it so much.” You point out. “You’ve never cum that fast.”

Despite how hard she tries to seem upset, she can’t stop the smile that breaks through to her face. “Yeah, actually,” she admits, tilting her head to look at you. “I’ve sang better, though.”

“I know. Just wish you weren’t so shy,” you say.

“I’m not shy,” she mumbles.

“You’re shy and stubborn.” You add, but before she can come up with some sleepy retaliation, you’re leaning down to kiss her, and she swears she gets the same sparks that she did when you kissed her for the first time. One of her hands come up to the nape of your neck as her lips lazily move against yours, trying her best with very little energy. So, you’re quick to pull away before she can try to turn it into something more. “Let’s lay down, baby. You’ve got patrol in the morning.”

“Fuck patrol,” she grunts, lifting her head to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yeah,” you agree, “fuck patrol.”

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - heeseung

jar of tears that were shed for heeseung

lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, situationship, unrequited love

warnings: kissing, suggestive, profanity, mentions of a dead parent, overall 18+

summary: your relationship with heeseung, if you could even call it that, has lasted for almost 3 years. 3 years you were at his beck and call and you were finally done. having convinced yourself that you didn't want to continue what you had with him even if you didn't necessarily believe that. to him it was casual but to you it meant everything.

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if If that was casual, then I'm an idiot sabrina carpenter - sharpest tool word count: 1401

Had it been any other person, you wouldn’t have stayed for so long, but something about Lee Heeseung just pulled you in. 

Three years of wasted time and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were slowly chipping away at the hard exterior of Heeseung you were always met with, “You know I’m just not ready for something serious right now.” whenever you would bring up how you’d wish he would hold you as his girlfriend and not the girl that was just filling the empty space in his bed. 

“Hey, are you still up, love?” the text reads as your phone shines in your face. The clock says 2AM but to you it was time to crawl into his bed and to Heeseung it was time to call for someone to take up the empty space between his arms when he sleeps. You don’t even give yourself the time to try and convince yourself that you shouldn’t go before you’re behind the wheel of your car, pulling into Heeseung’s parking lot. The walk from your car to his apartment felt long, your heart drumming inside of your chest and with every step you took it pounded louder and louder as you arrived at his door. The pounding of your heart suddenly silences as you knock on the door and it almost instantly swings open; revealing a casual but handsome looking Heeseung. 

He was standing in his doorway, sweatpants hanging loose around his waist and his toned body being hugged by the black compression shirt he wore. A sight you saw quite often, his usual attire when you would come over and although simple, it definitely had an effect on you. Your mind instantly clearing of any worries or hesitation when you seem. 

“Hey…” Heeseung says and that simple three letter word held so much weight. 

It wasn’t just “Hey” it was: 

“I’m glad you’re finally here.” or…

“I’ve been waiting for you.” and…

“I need you in my arms right now.”

but it was never:

“Be mine.” or “I’m yours.” 

Heeseung takes your hand in his, guiding you to his bedroom but not before connecting your lips, mindlessly moving against one another as you kick his door closed and turn the lock. Navigating your way to his room with no worry because the two of you had memorized the path to his bedroom and you could get there with your eyes. Much like now, eyes closed as your lips connected. 

Past the dining room where his leftover takeout sat, cold. 

Through the hallway with several picture frames hung on the wall of his loved ones, none of which featured you. 

And into the doorframe of his bedroom, landing on his plush bed as you pull away from him to catch your breath. Heeseung’s eyes are dark and low as he watches you, your chest slowly rising as you recall all of the other times you were in this situation. 

When Heeseung took you to his older brother’s birthday, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung took you to the theme park because you said you’d never been before, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung asked you to temporarily move in while you were still looking for a new place to live after college, ending every night in his bed until you found a place. 

Right now, after you spent the whole day thinking of Heeseung, ending the night in his bed. 

Heeseung sets his hand over your neck, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek as he tries to read what you were thinking of through your eyes, “What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks. It was moments like this when he would speak to you in that way that just soothed your heart, he just had this way of speaking to you and telling you exactly what you needed… but not what you wanted. 

You just shook your head in response and continued where you left off. Spending the night rolling around in his bed, sharing tender and notso tender moments, and making you forget all of the times you wished you hadn’t come over. 

The sun rises in the east, the morning light shining through Heeseung’s bedroom window as your eyes flutter open, the soreness in your legs and back and marks on your neck serving as a reminder of the events of last night. You stretch the events of the night before away as you flip over to the middle of the bed, realizing that Heeseung’s presence was absent. 

Finding your way to his dining room as you see he’s cooking something in the kitchen. The dull air in his apartment almost suffocates you as you approach him, his head slightly turning in your direction when he senses your presence. “Hey, I’m almost done with breakfast. Hope you’re cool with-” Heeseung begins but you interrupt him, knowing what he was already cooking up, “ramyeon?” you say, the two of you chuckling together as you finish his sentence for him. 

“Am I that predictable?” he says with a laugh. “Mmm just a bit.” you say teasingly but you were only half joking. Knowing that you knew how the day after usually goes, you wake up in his bed alone, you find him making the two of you breakfast, and before the clock strikes noon you’re on your way back home with the weight of last night and every other night before that stacked onto your shoulders. 

An endless cycle that has been going on for the last 3 years that you just couldn’t break. 

“Y/N? You hungry?” Heeseung asks and you blink away your thoughts when you realize he’s calling out to you, already sitting at his dining table with two bowls and two sets of chopsticks laid next to him. Steam floating above the boiling pot of ramyeon. 

“What are we?” you abruptly ask Heeseung, shutting his eyes with a sigh as he tries to gather his thoughts for a conversation he doesn’t necessarily want to have. “Really? This again, Y/N?” Heeseung asks, clearly annoyed by your question. “Why can’t you ever just leave it? Let us have what we have without putting a label on things?” Heeseung continues, each word creating a crack in your already brokenheart. 

“And what exactly is that Heeseung? Hmm? What do we have?” you ask, emphasizing the word have like you were testing him because to you, you had something more than Heeseung would admit. He scoffs at your remark, not having an answer but he deflects, turning it back onto you. “See, this is why I can’t commit to you. You want so much out of me and I told you that I just wanted something casual!” Heeseung says, his voice getting louder when yours was barely above a whisper. 

“So is that what this is… casual?” you ask and although he doesn’t give you a verbal response, his actions were enough as he averts his eyes away from your gaze, not wanting to make eye contact with you. “Right…” you say, retreating to his bedroom to grab the small amount of things you brought, planning to leave and not turn back. 

“Where are you going?” Heeseung says, getting up from his seat at the dining table, the pot of ramyeon getting colder the longer this goes on. “Anywhere else but here.” you say, brushing past him as he tries to block you from leaving. 

“None. NONE! Of this was ever casual and you know that.” you say as you stare blankly at his front door. Afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying but you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you slipped your shoes on. “We’ve met each other’s parents. I went to your brother’s birthday party, you bought my mom a birthday cake, I to- took you to my dad’s gravestone…” you say, your voice breaking at the last part of your sentence. 

“If that was casual, then I’m an idiot.” you say, tears falling from your eyes as you hurriedly leave his apartment, leaving him stunned as he stood staring at his front door left ajar. 

A choice you had to make even if you didn’t want to. 

Telling yourself that you couldn’t keep doing this with Heeseung even if you never stopped wanting him.

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[batneko]

okay SO, childhood friends idea inspired by a suggestion from @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard and the Yoshi's Island games. I still don't have a story exactly but I do have a lot of Thoughts.

Mario and Luigi are around three or four years old, old enough to talk but not to really articulate what's happening or how they're feeling. It's during a time when the parents think grandma is watching them and grandma thinks the parents decided to take them after all, and when they get home everything seems fine so the adults don't bother to compare notes. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Bowser is a couple years older, and small kids develop so fast that most wouldn't want to play with one much younger ("that's a baby!!!") but he's so desperate for a friend even close to his own age that he jumps at the change to spend time with this strange child that stumbled into his castle.

But... little Bowser has been so spoiled by Kamek and the other servants raising him that he has no idea how to play nicely. Luigi is terrified of him at first and starts bawling the moment Bowser "orders" him to play. For the first time in his short life, Bowser has a problem that can't be solved by yelling, crying, OR throwing things. He has to control his temper and learn to - what's it called again? - share.

Despite that the week that little Luigi spends with him is the happiest Bowser has ever been, and even that short amount of time has such an impact on his personality that he almost seems like a different person by the end. He accidentally bumps into Kamek and says "sorry" without being prompted and Kamek is so shocked he has to have a lie-down.

But at the end of that week, little Mario suddenly shows up with a pack of yoshis who seem to know where the boys belong, and Kamek knows it's not right to just keep a lost child. He also knows that there's no way Bowser is going to agree to let his first-ever friend go away and maybe never see him again, so Kamek smuggles Luigi out while Bowser is asleep and tells him his family came to get him. It's technically true.

Bowser is devastated. He screams, cries, throws things, and finally begs, but there's nothing anyone can do, Luigi is already gone. He's miserable for months, but eventually the sadness turns into anger. If his friend wanted to come back, why doesn't he?

Time passes. The memories fade. He's left with equal parts fascination by and resentment of humans, and the subconscious belief that if you give the people you love any chance to leave you, they will.

Meanwhile Mario and Luigi have gone home, and both of them are suddenly talking a lot about dinosaurs. That's not unusual, kids love dinosaurs, the parents figure they saw a cool book or movie with one of their cousins. But while Mario seems to think of dinosaurs as big animals that you run around with, Luigi keeps asking when he can go see "the dinosaur" again. He gets upset when his parents don't know what he means, but he keeps asking, again and again, for months. Every time they think he forgot he asks again, and no movie or museum visit or plush toy seems to be the answer.

He draws a lot of spiky green balls in this time. Eventually the parents decide that "the dinosaur" must be his imaginary friend and try to play along. It doesn't work, Luigi is still upset, but he's young and eventually he really does forget.

Years later family members will still sometimes bring up "Luigi's imaginary friend the dinosaur" as a cute anecdote. It's a little embarrassing, but he doesn't mind it too much.

And then it's twenty-plus years later and Mario and Luigi find themselves in a world that's full of adventure and magic and - yes - dinosaurs. There's a feeling of déjà vu but there are bigger things to worry about at the moment, and neither of them have any real reason to think they've been to this world before.

The first meeting doesn't go well. Bowser kidnaps Peach, the bros come to her rescue, and it ends in a big fight. Bowser does have a moment's pause when he first sees the bros, but Mario takes that opportunity to attack him and it's downhill from there.

There are several more clashes as time goes on. Sometimes it's just Mario, sometimes it's both of them, but after enough meetings people start to notice... Bowser controls his temper better around Luigi.

At first Mario thought it was just because Bowser hates him specifically, but no, other people have noticed it too. For some reason when Luigi is there Bowser is actually capable of showing restraint. Not even Peach brings that out of him. It's weird.

(Mario does wonder if Bowser kind of has a thing for his brother, but he can't bring himself to say it out loud.)

Luigi isn't scared of Bowser either, not the way he probably should be, given the whole giant monster/serial kidnapper thing. It's too awkward to ask Bowser why he's different around Luigi, but Mario asks Luigi why he's not afraid, and Luigi can't put his finger on it. He just Knows that Bowser is more bark than bite. He's not sure why.

So that's where things stand; Bowser and Luigi are both more comfortable with each other than anything about their personalities or situation seems to justify, and nobody knows why.

...Except Kamek who, as the only adult in the situation, figures out who the bros are almost immediately and promptly decides to Keep His Damn Mouth Shut. That reveal is not going to lead to good things for him.

[rafedaddy01]

Summary: toppers back in town, only he seems… different

Warnings: smut

I hear a whisper in my ear. I must be imagining things, too much alcohol in my system, yes that’s what it is.

Only it’s not.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you, princess” It’s more like a growl as my body covers in goosebumps, but I’m not freighted. I slowly open my eyes, waking up from my intoxicated slumber. I feel the tightness of a hand around my throat, but it’s not harsh, more like it’s caressing me. I groan as I try to move but am arm holds me right around my waist, preventing any movement. The mumbling of a voice warns me that I’m not alone and relief washes over me as I realize who it is. Topper. A slight smile curves my lips. I’ve missed him so much.

He left town a couple months back to tour colleges across the country, I didn’t know he was back..

This might be a dream, I tell myself. I’ve been having them a lot since he left. I don’t care if it is a dream or not I give in as a hand creeps up my body and tugs my shirt off. I gasp as the cool air hits my nipples and they harden in response. I still can’t quite figure out if I’m imagining all this, I did drink a heafty amount tonight. All I know is that my heart beats wild as the hand presses against it and my core immediately tightens.

Lips brush against the skin of my breasts, hands knead them as I feel the lips wrap around one nipple while the other gets twisted between rough fingertips and I bite back the urge to moan. Another set of fingers snake down to my exposed core and separate the slick lips, just what I wanted. A moan slips past my mouth. The wetness sucking my nipple, the fingers circling my clit, the hand kneading my breast, is all too much. I feel heat coat my body as I whine and wiggle with a need I crave. My body thrashes and begs for more. The tight feeling in my core is on the brink of snapping and I hang on to that feeling, letting it devour my whole body in pleasure.

“Oh god” I moan as my hips grind against the fingers.

“Fuck” the voice responds, he sounds frustrated.

Suddenly all sensations stop as I’m left wanting what I was deprived of.

Before I could cry out in disappointment a hard bulge rubs against my cunt. I didn’t need the lights on to tell that it was a cock rubbing up against me and sliding through my glistening lips.

My eyes roll to the back of my head and my lids close.

Fuck was right, it had been so long since I’ve felt sensations like this and I needed this. How long has it been since topper last touched me this way? Too fucking long.

“Please don’t stop” I pathetically moan.

He plunges in, stilling for a moment as his panting breaths fill the dark room.

It was almost like he’s been waiting to do this for years instead of months and needed a moment to savor every moment. Getting impatient I lift my hips and try to urge him to move.

It works, he suddenly thrusts harder and faster making the both of us groan, “fuck!”

He wasn’t the gentle topper I remember, but I didn’t mind. I liked this side of him better.

He gripped my knees and spread them wider. He continuously slammed into me with brutal force. His lips find mine in the dark and his tongue attacks.

My blood boils with pleasure as my nails dig into his back, “oh my god!” I moan. All of a sudden the pleasure stops as he pulls out, it was like a weight lifted off my body. I was so close! Please no, no, not again!

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” My voice cracks as the plea breaks out.

In a swift motion Im flipped onto my hands and knees and my face pushed into my plush sheets.

He pounces like an animal, fucking me into oblivion. “How long has it been since you’ve been fucked like this, princess”

Wait.

Princess?

Isn’t that what… no it can’t be.

Rafe was the only one to ever call me princess.

Oh fuck, what have I done…

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @hoesindifferentshows @rafemotherfuckingcameron

[pretty-red-garnet]

Angel

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • France • Light Angst/Fluff

!Spoilers! For The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon episode one! Don’t read this if you haven’t watched yet! Also, thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I had a lot of fun writing it.

PS: Ignore the canon divergence lol.

Heavy limbs is all Daryl feels as he begins to become conscious again. He's huddled on an overturned boat, his frozen fingers gripping your waist to keep you afloat with him. It seems even unconscious, he's always thinking of you and your safety before anything.

The coast is close, and he fights against his droopy eyes to look towards you. Your eyes are still closed, and he panics and swats at you to wake you. When you do, your groggy too, glazed over eyes looking towards his.

"We gotta get to the coast," Daryl tells you, his voice rough with thirst. You nod, still disoriented, but he appreciates that you don't fight him when he lugs you off the boat and drags you towards shore.

You and Daryl crawl on the sand, fingers ripping into the sand in an effort to ground yourselves. Sand sticks to the icy water soaking the two of you. Daryl spots a little sand bucket full of water ahead, and rushes to it. After a single eager gulp, he hurriedly hands it off to you. He watches the water drip down your chin, giving himself just a moment to relish in the fact that you're ok and breathing.

You and him had gotten in quite a bit of trouble since venturing off in an effort to find his brother. It ended in getting taken aboard a huge boat and— thankfully— escaping on a much smaller paddle boat. And now your landed on an unfamiliar shore.

"Where do you think we are?" You ask, breaths still heavy and fast. Daryl shrugs, leaning back onto his hand and grabbing the bucket when you offer it.

After a quick moments rest, you and your partner are back on your feet. You both wander the area, looking around for any sign of where you could be. The town you end up in is small. Buildings surrounded by the sea. It looked like it would've been a spot out of a travel pamphlet from before.

"Y/N," Daryl suddenly says, looking towards a sign. You step next to him, eyeing the sign to try and read the words through the age and decay.

"Is that..." you start, examining the unfamiliar language. "French?"

You and Daryl both look towards each other, both having an expression that could only be described as exhaustion. It seemed to Daryl that you and him just couldn't catch a damn break. How the hell would he get you home?

"Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," you say, deadpan. Daryl's frown deepens and gives you a halfhearted thwack on the shoulder for you ill-timed joke. "Tough crowd."

You and Daryl spend that night in a little fishing boat. It's long abandoned, dirt and dust covering every surface, but it gives some cover from the biting wind. After eating a fish Daryl caught, you both huddle together under layers of blankets on a little cot. You're wrapped around him and despite the exhaustion that drapes over you, you still can't sleep.

"Judith would like that," you mumble. Daryl follows your eyes and sees you gazing at the penguin plush. "She's never seen a penguin. Well, just in books."

Your voice is quiet, thoughtful. Daryl knows what your thinking about, he's good at that now. After so many years with a person, you can almost read their mind. And Daryl knows that you're missing Jude and RJ, especially after listening to that tape. That you're thinking about the childhood they're missing out on, about trips to the zoo and seeing penguins, begging their parents to buy them an overpriced souvenir. The childhood they should have.

The childhood you and Daryl are missing out watching.

"We'll have to bring it back for them," he says. You don't say anything back. "I'm gonna get you home, alright?"

You tilt your head to look in his eyes. Daryl hates that he sees fear and worry in yours. He tries to ebb it away with gentle caresses.

"I'm gonna get you home," he repeats, firmer and while looking you in the eye. You relent, nodding and smiling softly at him, and he leans to brush your lips against his in a silent promise.

It seems the bad luck that hangs over you and Daryl like a dark storm cloud isn't planning on dissipating anytime soon. You and Daryl venture deeper into the city and stumble upon a big abandoned building.

     "Maybe I should've taken French in high school," you murmur, eyes squinting at the unrecognizable words written on a sign outside of the building. Daryl just shrugs, and carefully begins to enter the building.

     It ends up being filled with walkers. Guttural groans and decomposed flesh surrounds you and Daryl. You and Daryl are taking care of your own groups, dividing and— hopefully— conquering.

     "Daryl!" You screech out, the sound of a body dropping following. "These are not normal walkers!"

     Daryl looks at the dead walkers and sees what you mean. Something leaking from them is burning the ground. Acid.

     It's not a second later Daryl is grabbed roughly, acidic fingers clamping down on his forearm. He lets out a yelp in pain, one that makes you kill your batch of walkers in half the time with the help of the extra adrenaline. Daryl sees you in the corner of his eye rushing towards him after he's able to pry the walker's hand off his arm.

     "Oh my God," you say, breathlessly staring at the burned hand print on his arm. Your fingers shake violently as they move to touch him, before they move away again. You look up at Daryl, his face pinched in pain. Tears collect at the corners of your eyes.

     Daryl's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of you, nervous and scared. Teary eyes and trembling like a leave. He reaches up to lightly dab at a few stray tears that leaked from your eyes, shaking his head.

     "I'm fine," he says, slowly and quietly. "Just a burn, I'm not infected or nothin'." His fingers now stroke your hair, trying to get that terrified look out of your eyes. "It's somethin' on the walkers, it's not a scratch or bite. 'M fine."

     You nod, and throw your arms around his waist. He hugs back without a thought, hiding a wince when your coat brushes against his wound. He doesn't mind, he'll take the pain if it means your arms are around him, holding him so tight he's afraid he'll lose feeling in his legs any second. Your face is buried in his chest, and he leaves little kisses on the crown of your head.

     When you finally pry yourself away, you're quick to pull a bandage out of your bag. Forcing Daryl to sit, you tentatively wrap the bandage around his arm. You place a sweet kiss on the outskirts of his bandage when you're done, smiling at Daryl when he huffs out an amused snort.

     You were always like that. Kind, and attentive. Always putting him and your family ahead of yourself. It was something that Daryl fell in love with first all those years ago. Although it tends to worry and annoy him on occasion.

     "I'm gonna be fine, alright?" Daryl reassures when he sees the worry isn't completely washed away from your face. You nod, lacing your fingers with his and leading him out of the building.

     Just when it seems the day couldn't get worse, it does. You and Daryl find a girl with her father, and thankfully she knows enough english for a trade. A little med kit for some apples and rabbit.

     What at first seems like the first score of the day ends in Daryl and his partner sprawled out on the damp ground. Both have matching knots on the side of their heads and Daryl a gunshot wound, yet both look and reach out towards each other. Daryl's eyes slip close before he can help it.

Daryl wakes to a start. His limbs and eyes are heavy, and he hears a woman talking— chanting?— in French. His eyes are blurry, but he's pretty sure he's looking at nuns surrounding him, one of them— the one that's speaking— has a heated fire poker, so hot the tip is a bright orange.

He yelps and shouts, trying to break free from the women's grip, but between being outnumbered, in pain, and exhausted, he doesn't move much. Daryl's eyes fly around the room in a panic, trying to catch sight of you, but there's no such thing. Once the molten poker hits his skin, the pain blinds him and he's out again.

Daryl wakes again much later. Maybe hours, maybe days later, he's not sure. He spots a nun pouring water from a basin in a large tub. Despite his body not functioning up to speed, he sits up anyway. At that moment, she turns towards him.

"You feeling better?" She asks, a foreign accent marking her words.

"Where is she?" He grumbles out, voice like sandpaper. "Y/N, where is she?"

"She's in another room, eating. She came to see you, you were still sleeping," she explains. "I'm Isabelle."

Isabelle explains the situation to Daryl. How the cauterization to prevent the spread of infection from that acidic walker, where he was, and how you were, all while removing the bandage on his arm. She makes some other conversation, but Daryl is mostly quiet, too busy with thoughts of you. However, Daryl isn't panicked, just concerned.

He doesn't feel the woman or any nuns at the abby had ill intent. They could've just left you both to die, but they didn't. Instead taking total strangers back to their home. Daryl does just want to see you. To make absolute sure you're safe and alright.

After Isabelle leaves, he takes her up on her offer of a bath. He can see the steam from here, and after the freezing cold ocean water from the other day, he needs it. He also doesn't need you worrying about his wound, so keeping it clean was a good first step.

He makes it quick and hasty, already out with a towel when Isabelle enters with clean clothes. Daryl feels a little exposed, only dressed with a towel, but Isabelle is quick to exit once she gives him the clean clothes.

Daryl hurries out the door once he's dressed. He doesn't really know where he's going, but he follows the noise of chatter. He peeks his head in the room he hears the most noise and spots you, talking with a couple of the nuns and eating soup.

"Hey, Angel," you say, dropping your spoon in your soup when he makes his presence known. You stand, placing your hand on his cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his mouth.

"You alright?" Daryl asks, tentatively touching the bruise on your temple. You nod, smiling when you kiss his wrist.

"Isabelle said your arm looks good." You sit down and Daryl follows suit. One of the women places a bowl in front of him, and he's quick to dig in and slurp up his soup.

     "Told you, 'm fine."

     "I know, but if I don't worry about you, who will?"

     Isabelle gives you and Daryl a tour of the convent. She introduces Laurent to you both and explained the miracle of his birth, how he's special. Daryl scoffed, but he could tell you were a little intrigued with Isabelle's plan of getting him to a better place. Somewhere safer and where he could be happier.

     Daryl would've flat out refused if it weren't for you. You convinced him to help out the women on their journey. Isabelle promised she'd help get you and Daryl back home, or at least access to a radio. It didn't seem very promising, but one look at you and he folded.

     You always called him your angel, but in truth, you're the real angel.

After all the introductions and outlining the plan of getting Laurent to wherever he needs to be, it's dinner time. Laurent was a strange kid. He liked to talk and sometimes he'd get all philosophical and ask Daryl deep questions. His odd questions and badgering took up most of the day. You mostly just giggled at Daryl and his usually half-assed answers.

At dinner, the other nuns regard Daryl nervously. You had quietly joked to him that's it's his 'intimidating energy,' as you called it.

"But don't worry, I find it really hot," you had said in a whisper while the nuns set the table. Daryl blushed and moved to hide his face from you, which just made you giggle.

The only ones that speak English are Isabelle, Laurent, and another nun named Sylvie. The three translated any conversation between you, Daryl, and the other women. It was mostly them asking questions to learn about you and Daryl.

"She wants to know how long you two have been married," Isabelle asks, translating a question from the oldest nun, Mother Superior.

"Oh," you had said, stumbling a little. Daryl could feel heat flush his cheeks and ears. "We're not married."

Sylvie and a few of the other women had made a slightly surprised face, and Mother Superior looked just aghast when Isabelle translated.

"Don't you two live together?" Laurent asks, ever on top of things. "And haven't you been together for years?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shrug. "Guess we just never thought to."

"There even a point?" Daryl asks. "No courts, no paper to sign."

It seemed nobody had to translate for the oldest nun this time. Maybe it was his tone or nonchalant shrug while he said it, but it seemed she got the point. She made a noise of astonishment, shook her head while muttering a player and making the motion of a cross. Daryl honestly thought it was a little comical, never did he think he'd be discussing marriage with a bunch of nuns, in an abby, in France no less.

"It's about taking a vow in front of God," Sylvie says. "A show that you love each other and you'll be together forever."

Daryl could feel the awkward tension radiating from you in waves. You moved your food around your plate, slightly unwilling to make eye contact with the nuns. Daryl just shrugged. He knew he loved you, he knew he would be with you forever, he knew you felt the same, he didn't need a big show to prove that.

Daryl never gave marriage a huge thought. Before he met you, he was sure he'd never even fall in love. After you, he was so deeply head over heels for you, he never thought he needed a big wedding to prove how much he loved you. He showed it everyday, at least he tried his best to. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or emotionally inclined, but he tried to make you feel loved and happy.

Besides, you'd never hinted at marriage. If you did, maybe it'd be a different story. You'd never said you wanted a wedding, did you want one? Did you want to be married, and thought he wouldn't want it? Daryl's not sure.

Now that he's thinking, really thinking during the semi-awkward silence that replaced the once lively conversation, maybe you did want marriage. Daryl remembers all those years ago when Maggie and Glenn married. They didn't have a huge wedding or anything, just a ring and a small celebration with some scavenged champagne. He remembers how happy you looked, how fondly you gazed at the happy couple.

He remembers how he made a comment similar to the one he just made, about no point of being married. You had nudged his shoulder and told him to be quiet, that it was romantic. That it didn't matter there were no marriage licenses or wedding gowns or honeymoons, they were happy and in love. How they just wanted to be husband and wife, just because they were committed to one another.

Daryl looks at you seated next to him, and it's like something changes. Maybe calling you his wife wouldn't be so bad.

Isabelle leads you and Daryl to separate rooms. After the big news of you and Daryl being unwed, Mother Superior didn't want you both staying in the same room. It was bizarre to Daryl, but you wanted to respect their wishes. So he conceded, and allowed Isabelle to take you away from him.

You blowed him a dramatic kiss as you walked away, like you were going off to war or something. He played along anyway like he always did with you, grabbing the kiss and bringing it to his chest just to see you laugh.

Now, laying in bed without your steady presence beside him was unwelcome. He felt strange, like he was missing a vital part of him. He couldn't even remember the last time he's slept without you. Even those years he was out in the woods looking for Rick, you were there, always right beside him.

He tossed and turned, fiddling with a little scrap of stained white fabric he had clutched in his hand. It was from his angle wing on his vest. A small piece had peeled off after the long trip in the ocean, and he had shoved it in his pocket without thinking.

Eventually, Daryl stood. Maybe he'd get in trouble with the nuns in the morning, but he doesn't care, he needs you. He carefully pushes open his door before making his way towards your room. He enters your room without knocking, letting out a relived sigh when he sees you laying in bed.

"You didn't even knock," you say, sitting up in bed. "What if you had just barged into one of the nun's rooms? Don't think they would've liked it much."

"I must have God on my side." You snort and shake your head. He walks over to you and sits on your bed, pushing you back into the pillows.

"What're you doing here anyway? Got lost?" You tease, a smirk on your face that Daryl kisses away.

"Missed you," he murmurs against your lips, before pulling away just barley to trail feverish kisses from your jaw to your neck. You groan.

"They won't like this much you know," you say, heated breaths fanning out across the top of Daryl's head. "We should respect their wishes. We're in their home."

"Whatever, we're helpin' them with their mission, ain't we?" You push Daryl away lightly, and so he pulls away. You're giving him a concerned look that makes Daryl worry.

"Yes, but they're also helping us. They're helping to get us home, and I don't wanna risk anything." Daryl sighs, the breath causing your messy hair to flutter slightly. He smooths it down tenderly.

"I'm gonna get you home. Don't gotta worry." You grasp his hand playing with your hair and kiss his fingertips. He curls his fingers around your hand and lifts it to his lips, placing careful kisses to your knuckles.

"I do hate sleeping without you," you admit, voice quiet. He nods, placing your hand gently to rest on your stomach, still holding it.

"Guess I just have to marry you then." Daryl had intended it as a joke, but realized he was serious about halfway through. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazes at you, hair fanning out on the pillow with an adorably confused look on your face.

He's not sure what took him so long to realize. But he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He wants you to be his wife. You're already his everything, his forever, he wants it to be official. He wants to hear you call him your husband, he wants you to be his and him yours in every sense there is.

"Are you joking?" You ask, a furrow to your brow and a tilt to your head. He shakes his head, his insecurities begin to evade his mind.

"I love you," he starts, unable to meet your questioning gaze. "I never thought about marriage, never thought anyone could love me like that." You push his hair from his face and caress his cheek, regarding him with a look so full of love he knows he's made the right choice. "But I wanna do it with you, if you want."

"Why now?" You sit up, pressing your palms on either side of his face. "Is it because of what the nuns said?"

"Kinda." He shrugs, and you smile softly.

"Daryl, I don't need us to be married to know you love me. You show me that every day. You don't need to prove anything." He shakes his head, holding your hands in place by grasping your wrists loosely.

"I want to be married to you. I never really thought about it before this s'all, but I do," Daryl confirms, holding your gaze steadily now. "I wanna be with you forever. You're everything to me."

Tears collect in your eyes and Daryl is terrified he messed up, that maybe you didn't want this. Maybe this would feel too possessive to you, like you'd be tied down, like he'd be owning you. Before his thoughts can spiral too out of control, you kiss him. You kiss him so hard and so passionately, Daryl almost falls backwards.

"I'd love to marry you." Daryl grips at your hips and you clutch at his shoulders. He rests his forehead against yours.

"I don't have a damn ring," Daryl says. He pulls out the little scrap of fabric from his vest, taking hold of you hand. He ties the little scrap around your finger, rubbing over your ring finger when he's done. "That'll have to do for now."

"It's a piece of your vest?" Daryl nods, and you grin so brightly, you almost light up the entire room. "Now I always have a little part of my Angel with me."

     Daryl smiles, his chest feeling warmer than ever before. He shoves you down into the bed and follows quickly, pulling you up to lay on his chest. You laugh and admire the makeshift ring adorning your left hand.

"You're my Angel."

     Daryl's eyes crack open to the sound of a door creaking and is immediately met with bright sunlight. A deep sigh is what causes him to open his eyes fully. Isabelle is standing by the door, fresh clothes in hand with a disappointed look on her face.

     "Mother Superior won't be happy," she says. Daryl looks to your form curled up next to him, and he couldn't care less. You roll over to face Isabelle and grin so brightly, Daryl's heart might just burst.

     "But we're married," you say, your voice still sleepy, while throwing out your hand from under the covers to show off the 'ring.' You look so proud Daryl can't help but smile. "Got married last night."

     "What?" Daryl isn't sure if she looks more confused or shocked. "You got married? Last night?"

     "Yeah," Daryl replies nonchalantly, throwing his legs off the bed to stand.

     "You need someone to marry you, you can't just decide your married." Isabelle looks amused now as she places the clothing on the dresser.

     "What for?" You ask, sitting up. "Like Daryl said, there's no marriage licensing or anything."

     "Yes, but you could still be married in the eyes of God," Isabelle says, a thoughtful look on her face.

     "We ain't catholic," Daryl says, reaching to grab the clothes Isabelle placed on the dresser. She pushes his hand away.

     "Humor us," she says, getting met with confused looks from both you and Daryl. "Let us put something together. I'm sure no one will mind a little wedding."

     You and Daryl tried to refuse, but it seems nuns are very convincing. Or maybe it's just because they're all women. Soon you and Daryl are getting set up in makeshift wedding attire. Daryl is getting prepped up in the clothing closest to a tux while nuns are creating a dress for you. Sewing and pinning up a white garnet they found to resemble something of a wedding gown.

     Daryl was less than ecstatic, but he saw how happy you looked when you rushed by him to get fitted into the gown and he was suddenly ok with it all. The next time he saw you, it was while he was at the alter.

     The women had made a trail of different fabrics to make a sort of carpet trail to the alter. Your white dress stands out against the multitude of colors of the carpet. Daryl's eyes flit from your dress to your sparkling eyes to your contagious grin before settling on the fabric tied in a knot around your finger.

     He can't take his eyes off you.

     Even when you finally make it across from him and Mother Superior begins to read from the Bible can he focus on anything but you. The foreign words are the last thing on his mind.

     "I love you," you mouth to him, smiling with tears glistening your eyes. Daryl feels tears begin to prick at his own.

     "Love you, too," he mouths back. He's nudged slightly by the young boy, and that's what brings him back. "Huh?"

     "Say 'I do,'" Laurent mumbles, causing the nuns to laugh.

     "Oh, yeah, I do," Daryl says, feeling a blush creep up his neck. You smile at him, causing him to smile back and forgetting the slight embarrassment. After a few more words read from the holy book, the officiate turns to you.

     "I do," you say with a watery laugh. A tear finally falls and Daryl is swift with wiping it away. After a few more words, the book is closed, and she motions for you to kiss.

     Daryl crashes his lips to yours without a seconds hesitation. You hum into his lips and Daryl can feel your tears drip down. He pulls away, to realize it was his own tears he felt. You grin happily, brushing away his tears with your thumbs.

     "We're married," you say, quietly. Daryl feels his heart miss a beat and he can't help press another firm kiss to your lips.

     It's decided the journey to deliver Laurent will begin tomorrow. One day of resting up and celebrating the newlyweds. You're the happiest Daryl has seen since you left to look for Rick. He keeps finding himself grinning to himself seeing you so happy, chatting with Isabelle and Sylvie and eating delicious food. Even indulging in a little homemade wine tucked away for special occasions.

     "Hey, you," you whisper, winding your arms around Daryl's neck. You teeter on your feet, just a bit tipsy on the wine. Your grin is so happy and free, so infectious, Daryl grins back. "Having fun?" He shrugs.

     "I like watching you have fun." He twirls a little piece of your hair. You frown, Daryl rubs it away with his thumb which results in a kiss on his finger tips. "I'd have more fun if we were alone," he murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell. You smack him lightly on the shoulder and giggle.

     "This is a house of God, Daryl." He shrugs at your teasing. You rock back and forth between your left and right foot, fingers twisting around the curls at the back of his neck. Suddenly, you look thoughtful as you gaze at him.

     "What?" He questions.

     "I just wish Carol and Maggie could be here, our family." You shrug, looking down. "I miss them, Jude and RJ, too. All of them." He kisses your forehead and gently lifts up your chin to meet his eyes.

     "We'll have to have a party when we get back." Daryl kisses your forehead again, lips moving down to your temple.

     "Yeah, ok," you say, nodding and smiling again, happy at the thought of celebrating with your family. "A nice party after our honeymoon."

     "Honeymoon?" Daryl asks with a smirk. "Where do you wanna go?"

     "Uh, we're in France," you say, a look on your face screaming 'obviously.' "We're going to Paris on our way to deliver Laurent, right?" Daryl nods and snorts.

     "You think the Eiffel Tower's still standin'?" You drop your hand from the back of his neck to poke his side, a shocked expression on your face.

     "Don't burst my bubble! Of course it's still standing!" You exclaim. Daryl concedes and nods, lifting his hands palms out to put them in a surrendering stance. "I've always wanted to go to Paris. I never imagined I'd have a destination wedding."

     Daryl never imagined he'd have a wedding in general. Never thought he'd find someone so loving and amazing as you. As Daryl gazes lovingly into your eyes, hands spread out on your back, he knows he's made the right choice.

[dairy-farmer]

No thoughts head empty just omega Tim fucking his partner (not sure who, but I like the idea of it being Bruce or one of his brothers), desperately riding them, but tiring out bc he's so pregnant. It doesn't help that whoever his partner is has gained a lot of weight thanks to Tim's milk coming in, and it's gotten to the point where Tim riding them is the only way they can fuck

Tim is hugely pregnant with a small litter, is sweetly chubby as well, and his partner is so big that they can hardly touch each other while they fuck. Tim can't reach around his baby bump, and his partner can't reach around their fat belly, their arms heavy and big, their chest huge and sagging to the point where they can't reach up any further than their own huge gut

When the litter is born things are easier, but Tim's partner is just getting bigger, still feeding from Tim's heavy tits. But Tim isn't so heavily pregnant anymore and can be crushed under his partner's giant belly again. It takes a lot more work on Tim's part, having to fuck himself back on his partner's hard cock while their gut rests on his back, but god is it worth it. Especially when Tim gets pregnant once again, with an even bigger litter (he and his partner might need to look into more creative ways to get pregnant a third time, with how big they both get by the end of this second pregnancy)

cw//tw slight adipophilia/feedism kink?

omega milk is notoriously calories dense and rich to make sure their pups build up some sweet padding of fat, biologically its purpose is to make sure the pup has sufficient fat stores in the case of famine or if their omega dam were to suddenly be killed. for pups its not as simple as just getting a wetnurse or another omega to feed them. pups are particular, they'll only drink their mother's milk for the their first few years. every omegas milk is different. tim had concers about his milk stores.

his tits were small, no way to get around it tim's tits were tiny. so tim was worried about feeding his pups, his litter was a small one but still!

thankfully the doctor had given a recommendation for tim and his alpha to increase his milk supply. a pump was the recommendation, a little machine to suckle tim's tits night and draw out all the milk so he'd produce more and faster. night after night until his milk was sufficient enough.

and tim did do it! he bought the machine and everything only that...he didn't like it. it hurt! and the plastic was hard so with no other options his alpha decided to manually drain tim's tits.

they hadn't been exxpecting for them to like it. really like it.

nights of drinking bellyfulls of thick and rich milk obviously led to a little pudginess, some softness growing on alphas face and gut. tim liked it. the plushness, the overflow of flesh in his hands, and the way he was enveloped in warmth and a comfortable weight on top of him while being fucked. but then tim started growing bigger too, his belly swelling with his puppies.

months later and tim's alpha is bigger and they can only fuck with tim riding them. their palms holding tim's hips are heavy and thick and the wet slap of tim's cunt bottoming out against his cock is accompanied by the feeling of tim's puppy filled belly pressing to his alpha's milk softened one.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Okay I have fiddled with this long enough it’s time to let it be what it is… part 7 💗

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!!! Not for the minors, adult content, suggestive language, smut including: just lots of kisses, grinding, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny AU

Word count: 5.1k

“Your wedding ring?” Danny questioned softly, knowing the sensitivity of the subject. He waited a few moments for Jake to hum and his eyes to slowly pull open, a delayed registration that Danny had spoken because he was so content laying in bed with the other man's head cradled in his palm and against his chest. The silver band hung on a chain from Jake’s neck, and Danny curiously picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

”Yeah, can’t really date with a ring on your finger” Jake answered him, also aimfully watching the way Danny gently examined the precious band. Danny hadn’t ever seemed bothered by the fact that Jake was married once before. Usually he got one of the same three reactions, the most common being apologetic of his loss, but once or twice he’d also been met with uneasiness or even disfavor. Danny had only ever shown Jake forbearance, and endurance beyond his years.

Jake recalled the way he’d tried to keep his distance from Danny in the beginning, chuckling at himself now. Danny’s eyes that gleamed layers of golden brown and mossy green in the late afternoon sunlight flickering back up to Jake’s face in slight concern for the reason behind the oddly timed amusement.

Only he had nothing to be concerned about, Jake just wished Danny could momentarily read into his mind. Where would he be right now if he hadn’t taken notice to this tenderhearted side of Danny? If he hadn’t let him in and given Danny the go ahead to help him learn what it was to share his heart and his bed with someone else again?

More than likely he would still be discontent with his routine, dissatisfied with the day in and day out, and dreadfully aware of how he ignored the longing pull in his soul for something more, someone to share his love with again.

Instead here he was, bare both body and mind to Danny’s comforting and protective hands.

Danny in fact could not read Jake’s mind, so instead he offered a look into his own. “It’s beautiful” he commented, as he collected Jake’s free hand that didn’t tangle and twist its fingers into Danny’s frizzy bedlain curls. He placed the small silver piece in Jake’s own palm and pressed his fist closed. “It’s a part of you, and every part of you is beautiful”.

One kiss was placed to Jake’s warm knuckles, then another to his chest still slightly dampened with perspiration after the small sweat they’d worked up earlier. “Come on, get up”.

“What? Why?” Jake groaned, chasing the feeling of plush lips on his skin as Danny suddenly sat up.

“You made dinner last night. I’m making lunch” Danny declared, holding his hand out to help Jake from the bed.

“I need to clean up again” he mentioned as he pulled his discarded pants from the bed, careful not to touch the pant leg that had been haphazardly used to wipe themselves down and tossed them into the small pile of clothes nearly forgotten since last night. “And maybe start another load of laundry”.

”Why?” Danny wrapped his arms around Jake, pressing his chest against his back and letting his chin come to rest on his shoulder. “So I can just dirty you up again later?”

”Later?” Jake feigned craning his neck back to get a glimpse at Danny's cheeky smile. “Are you that insatiable?”

”I am now” Danny proudly admit, squeezing Jake tighter. “Are you that tired of me already?”

”Absolutely not”.

Jake left the bathroom in his robe, gathered up what he could of all the clothes strewn across his bedroom floor even remembering the few garments left in his foyer, and tossed everything into the wash before heading into the kitchen. There he found Danny leaned against one of the counters, phone in hand with a look of serious consideration.

”Everything alright?” Jake questioned, trying not to startle him with his presence.

Danny lightened back up when he saw Jake standing there enveloped in white terry cloth. He wanted to gather him up again, press kisses to his temple and stroke his steam-dampened hair, but instead he focused on the task at hand. Having rummaged through Jake’s kitchen all Danny had managed to find for his meal was a large mixing bowl, flour, sugar, and barely enough milk for his recipe, but still not enough ingredients to even come close to something edible. “Why don’t you have anything in your kitchen?”

Jake sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “meant to go grocery shopping yesterday, that’s why we had grilled cheese last night”.

”And those were the best damn grilled cheese I’ve ever had” Danny quickly added.

Jake rolled his eyes and opened the door to his moderately sized pantry so he could attempt to help Danny find whatever it was he needed. “What are you making anyways?”

“Pancakes” Danny called to him, having already looked through the pantry and come up nearly empty handed, but maybe Jake knew places to check that he didn’t. This was after all his kitchen. “Need baking powder”.

“Umm… don’t think I have any” Jake reemerged, scratching his head and giving Danny an apologetic look. If he’d known he was going to come over and offer to cook then he would have fit in that grocery trip.

“That’s okay”. With one more look through his phone, Danny hit the confirm order button and set it back on the counter to wait for the next notification. “I just ordered everything we need. Now we just have to wait till it gets here”.

“I could have ran to the store” Jake offered, feeling even worse about Danny buying things for his house.

Danny pushed off the counter and reached over for the tie at Jake’s waist, pulling on the fuzzy material and making Jake stumble into him with a breathy chuckle. “But that would mean you getting dressed, and I don’t want that”.

“We have to get dressed eventually” Jake replied, though he leaned into Danny’s lean frame still clad in nothing but the boxers he’d been taking on and off throughout their escapades, and ran his palms up his arms. “As much as I don’t want this afternoon to end, I need to go pick up Luna”.

“I understand” Danny let his forehead come to rest on Jake’s, breathing in the scent of his body wash and the faint underlying smell he’d recently come to learn was unique to Jake. “Until then I can keep kissing you as much as I want?”

Jake smirked, he wasn’t sure what he’d done to garner such affection from this man, but he had to admit he was eating it up.

The doorbell started Jake from his momentary lapse in restraint. He’d drug Danny off into the living room, pushed him onto the couch, and mounted him like a ravenous beast attacking his lips with his own.

“That was fast”. Jake resituated the robe that had been pulled loose from his body by roaming hands back around his shoulders and tightened the knot around his front. After making themselves somewhat presentable Jake made his way to the door with Danny not far behind him and swung the door open expecting to see their pile of shopping bags on the porch.

“Daddy!” Luna excitedly greeted him, wrapping her arms around him before looking up in confusion. “Why are you wearing a towel?”

“Because I just got out of the shower sweetheart” Jake quickly answered her as he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead and welcome her home.

“Sorry, I tried calling” Danny’s sister mentioned as she handed Jake Launa’s backpack and her blanket.

“Oh, no I was just about to get ready to head over there”. Jake felt bad about lying, but the truth was he’d left his phone in the bedroom as had been too easily distracted all afternoon. “How was she?”

“She was great, we’re about to go to my parents house so I thought we’d stop by and drop her off”.

“Thanks so much, for everything. Now we know they can tolerate each other for a night Emma or more than welcome anyt-”

“Daddy! What’s Emma’s uncle doing here?” Luna interrupted after having spotted Danny awkwardly trying to figure out where to go or what to do. Jake had just put all his clothes in the washer, but he didn’t want to be caught in his underwear so he ran back into the living room and grabbed a blanket to cover himself up with.

Jake felt his face burn red as he struggled to come up with a quick excuse. Luna of course didn’t seem to mind the company, but Danny’s sister was quickly putting two and two together. What with Jake still being dressed in a robe in the middle of the day and the way Danny looked right at home wrapped up in Jake’s throw.

“I’m making pancakes” Danny spoke up, glancing over at his sister and waving like she hadn’t already expected he’d be here after he didn’t come home last night. “I heard you had a sleepover, how was it?”

“It was so much fun!” Luna exclaimed, “can I have some pancakes?”

“Well I haven’t made them yet, but maybe you can help me?” Danny turned to Jake now, making sure he had his permission to take Luna's hand and bring her into the kitchen.

“So you had a good evening then?”

The blush had yet to leave Jake’s face, and the warm sun from the open door wasn’t helping either. “I did… we did” he corrected, confirming the implications of her question.

“I’m glad, for both of you” she replied, “I think you will be good for each other. Danny, he’s a good guy, but he can use some stability in his life again. And I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries here, but I think maybe you can use a little spirit in yours”.

“Honestly, I think you might be right”.

Jake didn’t want to keep her any longer, noticing their car waiting in his driveway when another pulled up and the groceries Danny ordered were actually being delivered. He thanked her once more and waved goodbye to Emma from where she sat with her face nearly pressed to the window.

“Luna, why don’t you go put your backpack away before we start, okay?” Jake asked as he carried everything in himself, Danny dropping the bowl and measuring cups he’d prepped on the counter to run over and help.

“I can go?” Danny whispered as he grabbed the bags from Jake’s hands, still wearing the blanket from the couch like his own makeshift robe.

“No it’s fine” Jake quietly replied back, “though maybe we should see if I have some clothes that will fit you”.

Danny followed Jake back into the bedroom, awkwardly shrugging the blanket off as Jake shuffled around through his closet. “I think I’ve got some old stuff back in here that might do the trick”. Jake’s voice came out muffled as he pushed hangers aside, his small frame nearly disappearing through the hanging garments. Triumphantly he reemerged with a white t-shirt, a black logo that read Church of Rock & Roll across the front.

Danny smiled as he took the shirt from Jake, pulling it over his head- and smelling the blend of scents clinging to the cotton. It wasn’t a perfect fit but it was damn well good enough, considering Danny preferred his clothes tighter anyways.

“I haven’t worn that shirt in forever, I’m surprised I still have it” Jake mentioned as he moved over to his dresser and found a pair of sweatpants which should also do the job.

“This is a cool shirt though, why don’t you wear it anymore?” Danny questioned as he slipped into the sweats next, Jake changing into a pair of linen pants and matching button up top. He looked so soft and comfortable in his weekend lounging clothes that if Danny hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing him naked he’d think this was his favorite version of Jake.

“Don’t know, guess I’m just used to having to dress nice for work now and it’s just kind of blended into my life” he shrugged, putting his robe away into the bathroom before they headed back into the kitchen.

The sink was full of dishes, flour dusted the bcountertop, and drippings of pancake batter were splattered across the stovetop, but Jake, Danny, and Luna enjoyed their pancakes at the dining room table without a care in the world. The rest of the afternoon went by with the three of them playing games, playing outside, anything Luna wanted Danny heartedly went with and Jake was happy to see them getting along so well.

By the end of the night they were all on the couch in the living room watching some boring kids movie Jake had seen nearly a dozen times, but they let Luna pick knowing she wouldn’t manage to stay awake much longer. Only about thirty minutes in and Jake looked over to see Luna curled up next to Danny with her blanket, her head in his lap and his hand resting on her back as he watched the screen, his own tiredness in his eyes showing with the colorful flashing lights.

Danny didn’t even notice Jake had gotten up until he was standing in front of him, holding his pointer finger to his mouth to tell him to stay quiet as he scooped Luna up into his arms and carried her to bed.

“It’s late” Jake said after turning the TV off. Danny stood, thinking Jake was using that choice of words to insinuate it was time for him to leave now, and Jake's heart went sore. Though they had spent all day together from sunrise to sunset, he wasn’t ready to say any form of goodbye. “Will you stay again? Please?”

Danny cupped Jake’s face between his hands and Jake’s breath stilled as he anticipated the kiss, but Danny only pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth. “Are you ready for bed?”

“Yes and no” Jake frowned, and Danny kissed the creased spot between his brows next.

“Come on”. He took Jake’s hand and they walked back to the bedroom together, both hesitating to get in bed as they felt the thickness in the air surrounding them.

“We should get some rest…” Danny cleared his throat and spoke first, his voice coming out soft, smooth, and assuring despite the way his mind wandered off with thoughts he knew he shouldn’t act on. “So, I think we should keep our clothes on tonight otherwise I won’t be able to behave”.

Jake cocked a brow as he pulled the covers back and crawled in on his usual side. “You think you can behave at all?” He chuckled.

“I can, and I will, if that’s what you want”. Danny slipped in beside Jake, leaving more room between them than necessary. “Good night” he whispered and closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep even though his body was buzzing with the warmth emanating from underneath the covers just an arms length away.

Then the warmth got closer as Jake slid across the sheets. “Dan” he mumbled, his voice just as fevered as their shared body heat. “You can touch me a little bit”.

Danny peaked his eyes open, his breath coming out in a shudder as his expression asked a silent are you sure?

Jake, reading the look, reached blindly underneath the blanket to find Danny’s hand and brought it to his chest. “Luna usually sleeps all night, and she was really worn out today. She shouldn’t be waking up”.

Danny licked his lips and nodded his head, wedging one arm under Jake’s head and turning towards him onto his side. His palm glided across Jake’s collar from shoulder to shoulder, then around the opposite side of his neck as Danny pulled them closer and twisted one of his legs between Jake’s.

A small pleased sigh left Jake’s parted lips as Danny’s hand kept roaming his torso, down his side to squeeze his hip then back up to round the edges of his shoulder and journey back down his arm. Jake couldn’t help the way he started to get half-hard even if Danny was keeping his hand respectfully above the waist, and when he started to tuck tender kisses against the underside of his jaw and ear Jake let his eyes flutter closed and he slumped against the mattress reduced to absolute putty in his arms.

Their bodies melted together and Danny continued to caress the gentle curves and planes of Jake’s form until his chest started rising and falling slowly with his sleeping breath. Even then Danny took the opportunity to study the solemn face before him, smoothing back strands of hair and tucking them behind his ear. Jake didn’t even flinch when Danny brushed his thumb across his cheekbone, his comfort putting him in a deep peaceful sleep.

When Jake woke it was so early in the morning that it was still dark outside. At some point in the middle of the night he had turned onto his side as well, but Danny’s arms were still circled around him keeping his back close to his front. He shifted his hips backwards, trying to ignore the ache in his body and just go back to sleep, but as he pressed up against Danny’s groin he felt something hard and hot right up against his ass.

It was an odd feeling. Obviously he knew how easy it was to get a boner in your sleep, but having Danny behind him like this made his brain overheat for a moment as he wiggled again in chase of that sensation. Danny was still asleep, but his grip tightened around Jake and he rocked his hips forward harder. Jake bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise as he pushed back once more, trying to see how much he could get out of this before Danny woke up.

The answer was not much, because Danny's arm moved as his hand came to hold onto Jake’s shoulder. “Baby, if you keep doing that I’m gonna…” his voice was thick with sleep, low and gravely as he trailed off and rolled his hips again despite his own warning.

Jake incited him further, rocking back in perfectly timed motion until he was locked in place with a tight grip on his hip. Danny buried his nose into Jake’s hair at the back of his neck and muffled his moan against the crumpled collar of his shirt, giving two more desperate thrusts until he was spent.

Danny sounded his embarrassment through a breathy chuckle, but just before he could make some silly comment about ruining another pair of Jake’s pants, the other man was twisting in his arms and smashing their lips together.

“Good morning” Jake cooed against his mouth.

“What time is it?” Danny questioned, his tired eyes still adjusting to the slivers of blue first morning light that threaded themselves through the air.

“Early” Jake answered simply, “but I’m awake now”.

“Yeah, me too” Danny admit as he stretched his arms and rubbed the sleep away.

“I’ll go get your clothes out of the dryer, you can use the shower if you want”.

“Without you?” Danny stuck out his bottom lip and tried to tug Jake back into the bed, but he was already out from under the covers and throwing his legs over the side.

“Maybe another time” Jake smiled and reached into his bedside table for a hair tie, throwing his bed head waves into a low messy bun as he left Danny.

Jake stopped by the kitchen first, taking out the fruit left over from Danny’s pancake order yesterday and washing some to put in a bowl. The few clothes in the dryer had wrinkled a little bit from sitting in there all night, but he figured Danny wouldn’t mind too much so he gathered everything into a basket then balanced his bowl of fruit on the top to take back to the bedroom.

After putting away his things he set Danny’s clothes on the edge of the bed and popped a few blueberries into his mouth, taking the time to check his emails for the first time in nearly two days while he waited for Danny to finish showering.

Jake didn’t make it a habit to bring work home very often, but he did realize he was tethered to his phone, always having to be available by email in case there was something important that needed his immediate attention. He’d been slacking this weekend, but he couldn’t help but feel like it had been nice to dissociate from reality for a moment and just enjoy his time with Danny.

Unfortunately reality still existed, and he had an email flagged as high priority in his inbox. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until Monday morning, but Jake read the message anyway. It was time for his quarterly PTO evaluation, and attached was a spreadsheet of everyone in his department that still had remaining hours needing to be requested. Opening the document the very first person on the list with the most unused PTO for the year, highlighted in bright yellow, was his own name.

It hadn’t even donned on him that he hadn’t requested that much time off. Well that was exactly the intention of the eval, to make sure those who still had time knew that they needed to put in their requests, but he wasn’t used to being the one called out on these reminders. So he had to take a few days off? That certainly wasn’t the end of the world. There was Luna’s graduation coming up which he’d already scheduled, but he could take off more than just the one day and plan to take her somewhere to celebrate.

As he pulled his calendar up and counted the last remaining days of the kindergarten school year, he was reminded that the graduation was on a Wednesday, middle of the week. He might as well just ask for the whole week off if he had that much time he needed to use. It wasn’t like he had any other plans, and if something came up he clearly had plenty of hours.

Jake closed his email, leaving the rest of the list for tomorrow to send out separate reminder emails, and sent in his own request just as the bathroom door was opening with a puff of stream.

“Whatcha doing?” Danny asked inquisitively as he ran a towel through the ends of his hair.

“Putting in PTO” Jake answered him, deciding he was already done with the phone and tossing it to the side, replacing its spot in his hands for his bowl of fruit.

“Oh? Jake is taking time off? How will they ever survive without you?” Danny joked, retrieving his shirt from where Jake had laid it out for him and pulling it over his shoulders.

“They will have to figure it out, for a week” he shrugged, picking out a large strawberry and biting into its sweet flesh.

Danny moved over to where Jake laid with his back against his headboard and leaned over to take his own bite of Jake’s breakfast. “A week? Are you planning a vacation?”

“Don’t know yet, it's Luna’s kindergarten graduation, we might do something afterwards, but until then I think I’ll just stay home”.

“That’s in just a couple of weeks,” Danny looked excited, somehow neither of them had made the realization that Luna and Emma were graduating from the same class, so more than likely they’d all be planning to take the day off. “I’ve got a few jobs at the shop I’m supposed to be helping Rudy with, but I’m going to try and have them done the week before”.

“So you won’t be busy around that time then?” Jake’s lips curled at the corners as he tried to hide his smile, his own excitement washing over him as thoughts about spending more time at home with Danny rushed his mind.

“Why? You need someone to keep you company?” Danny leaned over again, this time placing his hands on the bed so he could get really close. Instead of stealing another bite of his nearly gone strawberry he pressed a quick kiss to Jake’s lips, who could taste the juice from the fruit mixed with the mouthwash he’d rinsed with. “Whatever will we do with all that time?”

Jake knew he was teasing, but Danny had gotten off this morning and he hadn’t, so even the littlest bit of suggestive nature was giving him a reaction. “About that” he cleared his throat and adjusted to sit up straighter. “Next time, we will…?”

“Will what?” Danny chuckled, “go all the way? What are we, sixteen?”

“Shut up, I just want to know so I can be prepared. I mean, even if I’m a little out of practice this is all a little new for me”.

“You be prepared for whatever you want, I’ll take things as slow as we need to”. Danny moved his kisses to the triangle of skin that peaked out from the gap in the collar of Jake’s shirt, “I mean I’ve thoroughly enjoyed everything we’ve done up until now. Even cumming in my pants while I was half awake”.

Jake laughed, partly from Danny’s critique of himself, but also because his damp hair and scruffy lips were tickling him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but I don’t want to wait forever. I want to feel confident again”.

”Believe me, if I could fuck you until you’re crying my name right now I would, but we’re gonna have to build up to that”.

Jake's face flamed red at Danny’s boldness, which only made Danny chuckle even more. That was the exact reaction he’d been hoping for, so he took it further to see just how flustered he could get him. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll have you on your back for me plenty of times,” he pressed a kiss to his sternum, “and on your knees” a kiss to his left collar bone, “against the wall” the right, “I’ll even let you fuck me when I’ve had enough”.

Jake shuddered at the thought of it, his anticipation building so fast he just might say fuck it and try to take off work sooner, but the tiny still sane part of his brain knew he still had things he needed to take care of at the office to prepare for being gone for a week. Part of him worried slightly if they’d survive this, but just going based off of this weekend he knew they’d have the libido for it. Danny was insatiable, in the most patient caring way possible, and Jake couldn’t deny that he was too.

Danny left to return back to his sister’s house later that afternoon after eating some real breakfast with Luna. Now that it was just the two of them again Jake fell back into his usual Sunday routine, cleaning his kitchen, picking up the rest of the house, and getting that grocery trip done letting Luna pick out some extra snacks to keep at the house.

By that evening he was getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth in his bathroom when he noticed the shirt he’d given Danny to borrow had been left on the end of his vanity. Though he had just changed into something to wear to bed, Jake picked up the old shirt and switched it out with what he had on. It practically fit the way he remembered it, which was a welcome surprise considering how much he’d changed since the last time he could remember wearing this shirt.

He knew it was a stretch, but he lifted up the collar and tucked his chin down to pull it over his nose, taking an inhale of the fabric to see if it’d smell anything like Danny. Even the faintest trace he could pick up after spending so much time enveloped in Danny these past two days would be enough to help him get through going to bed alone tonight.

Jake crawled in on top of his clean sheets, his favorite silk set in the wash now, and pulled up his contacts on his phone.

“Where the hell have you been?” Josh answered after the first ring.

Jake laughed, aware that he’d missed a few nights of their calls. “I’ve been occupied”.

“Oh” the sassiness in his brother's voice dissipated and instead amusement filled his tone. “So things are going well with mystery guy?”

“His name is Danny” Jake corrected him with a roll of his eyes. “And yeah things are going… well great. Luna adores him already, she wanted him to help her brush her teeth this morning and I wasn’t even allowed in the bathroom”.

“Don’t tell me I’ll have to be in competition for my only niece’s affection now?” Josh feigned a complaint.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you're still her favorite uncle. That reminds me, are you going to be available for her graduation?”

“Are you kidding? I’m throwing her a party, and I expect your plus one to come along so we can finally meet him”.

“A party for a five year old?” Jake huffed, thinking it was ridiculous. A simple dinner with the family would be enough.

“Sammy and I have it planned, she’s going to love it. All you have to do is show up and leave the rest to us”.

Jake agreed and continued the conversation, listening to Josh drabble on about everything he had going on in his life right now. It was a lot considering they hadn’t talked in only a couple of days, but Josh did always have multiple things going on at once and of course there was the wedding planning already coming underway.

After a good half an hour they said their goodnights and Jake plugged his phone in before turning off the lights and sliding down into the bed. His fingers came up to trace the hem at the top of his shirt, brushing against the silver chain he wore around his neck.

In a split second decision Jake sat up again and pulled his hair to the side, reaching around to the back of his neck and unclasping the metal hook. The necklace went slack and he gathered it up into his palm, giving it one good look before he got up and placed it somewhere safe.

Tags: @kultavalo @sanguinebats @lyndz2names @gracev0609 @lipstickitty (happy late birthday!!)

[selfpositiveundertale]

Update

CW: discussion of trauma (the trauma was a bad car accident)

I was able to pay for my dog's vet appointment and her medicine thanks to the person who paypal'd me ❤️❤️❤️ She isn't happy about having to take medicine again but hopefully this will be the last round, it's pretty much just probiotics and something to settle her stomach because the antibiotics really did a number on her tummy.

My hands ache from the crash but it's no worse than the soreness after crocheting for several hours. I can do some crocheting but I find thicker yarn much easier and less painful to work with right now. That said, I got a bunch of chenille yarn a while back and I have some larger plush versions of my Ralsei amogus dolls in the works. The first one is almost done, I just have to assemble and attach the hat. Will post a pic when he's done. I want to have at least 2 each with and without squeakers made and then I might reopen my Etsy shop and list them. They will cost more due to the cost of materials, but I'll probably mostly have dolls made of the chenille yarn for a while, at least until I can work with normal yarn without pain within minutes again. I'm hoping to sell a couple by Tuesday because I have another chiropractic appointment that day I'll need to pay for and my husband doesn't get paid again until Friday.

I'm still trying to process what happened. I'm seeing my therapist tomorrow and I will be discussing it with her. This therapist is new to me, my previous one that I had for a few years left the place I'm with and is now working elsewhere. We've only had like 2 sessions but she seems nice. It's just a little frustrating having to break in a new therapist all over again but not really a problem so I'm not worried.

I drove today, to take my dog to the vet. It was scary. I didn't realize how paranoid I would be of other drivers, fully expecting anyone and everyone to whip out in front of me when they're waiting to exit a parking lot to the road or suddenly veer into my lane when they're right beside me and I panicked every time I saw them. It took a lot of self control to not slam on the brakes and to remind myself that other people are not going to do things like that. I have to remember I know how to drive safely and most people are not going to be so reckless as to do the dangerous things my brain is expecting them to do. My anxiety around driving is almost back to where it was while I was still very new at it, terrified to be on the road with other people and having no trust in them and even less trust in myself. I have to build up my confidence again and I have no idea how long it will take.

I have to say, getting hit by one huge trauma all at once sure feels different from the trauma I'm used to, which is the kind that builds up over many years in a toxic and dysfunctional family. It's kind of surreal, I find myself wondering if it was all a dream but then I see the bruises on my legs and feel the ache in my palms and how stiff and sore my body still is even after a chiropractic appointment and see the empty space where I would have parked my vehicle and I have to remember it really happened. I get this weird chill that seeps up the back of my head like cold water in my hair when I remember it. And yeah, I'm grateful I walked away with nothing worse than bruises and stuff my chiropractor fixes literally all the time anyway, but I wish it didn't happen.

It's all such a mess. Right now I'm just trying to focus on keeping myself fed with good food and busy with things that can make some money. I'm making chili tomorrow because it's one of the less expensive things I can make, and also I could use some comfort food after the week I've had. And maybe the familiar routine of cooking the beans will help soothe my brain. I only use dry beans as I can't stand the texture of canned beans. Cooking them isn't difficult or complicated, just time consuming and I think the 2 or 3 hours it'll take to cook them will do me some good.

It's after midnight and I'm exhausted, so I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Goodnight, and stay determined.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[cryptidinspace]

Dangerous Waters, Chapter 8

Warnings for discussions of fatal vore, mild innuendo and dark/upsetting themes revolving around vore in general? I guess? ---------

Lacey drifted upside down through the hallway, tail flicking gently. They gazed up at the ceiling above them, noting the old carvings etched across the stone. Just how old was this building? The Oceans United Initiative had only been announced last year. The tapestries on the wall looked old too, and the whole campus felt more like a museum mixed with a labyrinth, than a school. 

It only added to the uneasy feeling in their chest. Their mother had always told them the danger of Sea Monsters. Their little town had been safe for a long while, but danger always lurked out there, just outside the continental shelf. The threat was a distant one. Big scary monsters that would eat you. The words had no real weight to them, until now. 

But the monsters weren’t just monsters. Perhaps that was what paralyzed them, made them feel sick to their stomach. The monsters spoke, they had feelings, they were…people. Despite the size difference, their minds were equals. And yet, the sea monsters would eat them. Treating them like food. Murder, but not even that. Spearing a fish for dinner wasn’t murder. It was only the use of a resource. What did Atlantic feel? Did he feel like…food? Did he come to understand his place in the universe, in the end? What would it be like, to…accept such a thing? 

They had come to a halt now, floating like a corpse near the top of the hall, without even realizing. Their breath was shallow, while their hands shook uncontrollably. We’re going to die. And we don’t even get to die like people. 

“Lacey…?” A soft voice from below caught their attention, and Lacey flinched, before turning slowly to look. Rosia sat beneath them, peering out the door of their shared room. Her eyes looked tired, for once, devoid of the energy Lacey had come to expect. “Are you okay?” Her face scrunched up, as if she had suddenly realized what a stupid question that was. 

Lacey stared at her from above. She had thought Rosia to be innocent, if only because of her size. But maybe she’d want to drink a mer’s blood, or tear them apart first. “Rosia…am I food to you?” 

The girl froze, eyes widening. Her mouth hung open, and for once, she seemed truly at a loss for words. The silence stretched, as Lacey stared her down, too exhausted to be afraid now. 

“Well, no.” Her voice was soft, as she finally spoke. “Come in, okay? Carcharias is in class right now. Let’s talk.” 

Lacey followed her in silently. They took in the room once more- a seaweed-woven hammock, massive and full of patchy pillows, hung on one side. In a hollowed out cubby on the wall, Lacey and Rosia’s hammocks hung across from the other. Little bundles of coral in pots adorned Rosia’s side of the room, along with a woven shark plush. It was all so achingly similar, positively singing with humanity. And yet, her people did such inhumane things. How could someone so paradoxical exist? 

Rosia drifted down to sit on the floor, leaning against the stone wall. Her tail coiled into a spiral, the pink fins fanning out around her. She grabbed the shark plush too, hugging it to her chest. Still silent, Lacey sank into the hammock. 

“I know this must be confusing for you. I’ve thought a lot about Mers and Sirens before, you know. I can never know exactly how it feels, but I know what it is to feel afraid. It’s obvious that I’m smaller than just about every Sea Monster. I never knew my father, but…some people say he might have been a merman.” Lacey’s eyes widened. “I always tell people it’s a mutation…I guess it might be. But rumors say my mother got with a merman. She always denies it, but she won’t tell me anything about him either…” She swallowed hard, her eyes reddening slightly with unseen tears. “Some Sea Monsters are nomadic. But I grew up in a city. When I was little, some other kids thought they could do whatever they wanted with me. They’d eat me, without even asking. I was always too tiny to fight back. The first time it happened, I was so scared…I knew that older kids did it all the time, and I knew I wouldn’t die, but that didn’t help much. It was terrifying. I felt so helpless. I didn’t know when they would even let me out.” Her eyes had grown distant, and her face slightly blank. 

“...I got used to it, though. I started agreeing a lot more. I didn’t always enjoy it, but I felt like I had a bit more control, yknow? It’s not all bad, but…aha. I’m getting off track.” Lacey bowed their head, unable to find the words. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be a Mer. To be around all these Sea Monsters, to go against everything you’ve ever heard about them, and try to trust them. And then, to be let down. You must feel trapped.”

Lacey stared through the threads of the hammock, at a loss for words. For Rosia to be treated that way, by her own kind…or half her own kind, if the rumors were true. Does that mean all Sea Monsters are really dangerous? “I never met Sea Monsters before. I only heard stories about them. I wasn’t even sure it was real…Irridesse was so confident that she could handle them, that she’d show our hometown that they don’t need to be afraid. And somehow, she’s still determined. I don’t know how she does it…but I’m nothing without her.” They were surprised by the sudden venom in their voice. Not directed at Irridesse, but pure self loathing and despair. “But I’m so scared, too. And what if…what if I am just…just food?? In the grand scheme of things-” They felt their hands begin to shake again. “What if that’s all my life has culminated in?” 

“Lacey!” Rosia sounded horrified, and Lacey looked up, red in the face. The girl sprung up, darting over to hold out her hands. “Sea Monster or Merperson, whatever you are. You are who you are. Other people might see me as a mere stomach-warmer. It’s…not what I want. But there’s nothing I can do about them. I try to enjoy it when I can…but it doesn’t define me.” She glanced around for a moment, before picking up the stuffed shark. It was made of some kind of grey-blue fur, woven together in strips, with shimmering alabaster buttons for eyes. “I made this. I really like making plushes like this…I have a ton back home.” She looked away, suddenly flustered, before pressing the shark into Lacey’s arms. They took it, pressing their palms sinking slowly into the soft fur. It was already warm, and smelled faintly of sweet spices. Just like Rosia did. “I’m an artist. I’m a connoisseur of Giant-squid-ink beer.” She chuckled to herself. “And I like buying pretty hairclips. All of those are parts of me. Being a prey, as some would say, is a part of me too. But it’s not the only part that matters.” 

“Right…that’s…comforting. I think.” Lacey gave the shark a squeeze. Rosia’s words were reassuring, in a slightly unsettling way. But it would have to do for now. “But I don’t want to die. You must have an opinion on Sea Monster’s eating Mers…I mean, it’s common, right?” 

“Yeah…sorta? For whatever reason, I live just fine off of fish. But other Sea Monsters, if they go without eating humanoids for too long, they start losing their mind and biting themselves obsessively…I was taught that it’s because Sea Monster brains require proteins from other humanoids to function correctly. But…” She jerked her head toward the other side of the room. Carcharias’s side. “He’s unusual. I doubt he’s mixed with another species, by the look of him. He wasn’t raised in a city like me, or a normal pack like most Sea Monsters. But…he hasn’t lost his mind, I think?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Growing up, we were told that life doesn’t end with death. Life is…a resource, of sorts. When someone dies naturally and is left to the sands, their life is over. If they get eaten, that life is sort of…absorbed, into another. Life continues, in another form. But I doubt those lives are still sentient. They are an unwilling part of a whole, over which they have no control. So it’s…not…great. I guess, I tried not to think about it.” She pulled away, the guilt clear in her voice. “I never had any reason to go on hunts, so I never saw it happen. It didn’t feel like any of my business, at the time.” 

The two sat in silence, both staring into the distance, thinking. “It’s fine. I don’t think I’m mad at you.” Lacey finally mumbled, leaning out of the hammock to take Rosia’s hand in their own. “Neither of us really understood the other. I don’t have an answer to fix all this…I don’t think anyone does.” 

Rosia nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish I had a better answer for you.” 

“It’s…fine.” Was it? Lacey couldn’t quite tell yet. 

Rosia seemed to pick up on the tired look in their eyes, and she backed away. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll wake you up if anyone comes to eat us.” She paused, before making a face and forcing a laugh. “That’s a joke. Sorry.”

As Lacey burrowed into their blankets, attempting to rest, (and completely forgetting their original objective) Irridesse darted from door to door in a distant hallway. It was lined with offices, a rather high-arching tunnel full of too-bright glowfish. Portholes overhead let in the distant blue glow of the open sea…it was still early, but hopefully not too early. 

Professor Coral had to be up by now. Though Irridesse had forgotten to check her office hours, it hardly mattered. If Coral wasn’t in her office, she’d hunt her down anyway. 

Luckily, her office door wasn’t hard to find. It had her name painted on it in loopy letters, bright green. Little seastars and clamshells decorated the stone slab as well-as opposed to the rest, which were awfully dreary. After pausing a moment to find a clear space, Irridesse straightened up and gave a sharp knock. 

There was a muffled yawn, followed by, “Coming, coming!” Something rustled, before the door swung open. Coral’s face, which looked tired, brightened suddenly at the sight of her student. “It’s you! Come on in, er…Miss Azraq?” 

“Irridesse, is fine.” She hurried in, glancing around the cramped room. More important than all the glitzy decorations, one wall was covered in anatomy posters. Several of them looked to be sea monsters. “I’ll get right to the point-” Her brain spun, coming up with a plan on the fly. “I want to learn more about Sea Monsters. I just feel so unsafe, after what happened to Atlantic…” She did her best impression of worry. “Like…which ones should I avoid? Who’s more likely to eat me?” 

“Hm…” Coral sat behind her desk, which was little more than a rickety wooden table. No real desk? “Interesting question. And, may I add, thank you for coming to me with this. That’s exactly what I’m here for.” She offered a warm smile, though Irridesse could still see how worn out she was. “It’s hard to say. The larger a creature is, the more it will need to eat to sustain itself. So it stands to reason, bigger Sea Monsters would be hungrier in general. However, most only need to digest a humanoid a couple times a month. It’s more of a…supplement, than a staple of their diet.” 

Irridesse arched one brow. It both impressed her, and disgusted her, that Coral could talk about this subject so calmly. “And they need it to stay alive?” 

“It’s more complicated than that!” A hint of actual excitement crept into Coral’s tone. “In terms of biology, there are certain chemicals in living humanoids that sea monsters require to stay healthy mentally. Without it, their minds will start to deteriorate. Sea Monsters also tend to derive large amounts of serotonin from just the taste and sensation of swallowing someone. Within their own groups, they’ll frequently incorporate devouring each other into daily routine! Although Sea Monsters also form vastly different cultures, as they usually live in small groups scattered throughout the ocean, so there are certainly variations. For some, it’s quite intimatel. Others, it’s used as a romantic gesture.” Irridesse couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, and Coral chuckled. “It’s quite different, isn’t it? But for many, it’s simply friendly.”  

“Okay…” Though this wasn’t the information she needed, it was surprisingly interesting. Though I’ve learned some firsthand from Magna. “But…is there a plan for incorporating that here? That doesn’t involve more students dying?” 

“Of course there is! The last half-week of every month has no classes, allowing everyone to either visit home, or spend some time in the nearby cities, if they want.” Coral paused, and sighed heavily. “Though clearly, it hasn’t been working as we hoped. Someone lost control. Or perhaps, never meant to control themselves. The road to understanding is a rough one, but I had really hoped to prevent this.” 

“So, they’re going to expel the Sea Monster responsible for this?” Not before I find him, you won’t. And if you do, I’ll track him down anyway. “It would be a danger to us all, right?” 

“They haven’t told me who it was, and I’m not very familiar with the Sea Monster students yet.” She shrugged helplessly. 

“Ah…so…how long does, uh, digestion take?” It was often that Irridesse stuttered. But now, faced with such a grim circumstance, she was suddenly tripping over her words. She tried to imagine it…stuck within flesh walls, so close to the outside world, but utterly incapable of reaching it. His entire body, encased in someone else’s, as acid boiled away his scales. Gods…I hope it was at least quick. 

Coral folded her hands. “It depends on the ratio of sizes. A stomach will take longer to digest something that completely fills it. For something small, it could only take a few hours. A tighter fit might take several days.” Both fell into a dark silence, before Coral cleared her throat. “Most of the Sea Monsters here couldn’t reasonably consume more than a single humanoid at a time. And for some of them, their stomach would distend enough to make it noticeable for a while. However, it’s likely that Atlantic passed out from the pain within an hour. He…wouldn’t have suffered for long.” She shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. “But it’s a horribly scary way to go.” 

“Huh.” Through the fog of emotions, Irridesse could sense that something was off. “Roughly how many hours do you think it’s been, between Atlantic running out of the classroom, and his killer being found?” 

“That’s a very good question, Irridesse.” Coral leaned back in her chair, idly swishing her pink tailfins. “It was nine pm when the class started. And it only went for…I think thirty minutes, before Atlantic excused himself. And it was about…seven in the morning, when they announced it.” 

“Approximately eleven hours.” Irridesse leaned forward, her eyes locking on to Coral’s. “So, who do you think it was?” 

She tilted her head, apparently surprised at the sudden shift in the student’s attitude. “Well first of all, they can pause their digestion, allowing them to keep prey alive for longer. It’s a strange skill that most of them can learn pretty easily. But…in this case, they’d have no reason to do such a thing.” She seemed to hesitate for just a moment, before leaning back to grab a ledger from one of the shelves behind her. She thumbed through it for a moment, before pausing to read. 

“Well…I doubt it’s Espirit, the girl you were with earlier. Obviously, not Rosa. Honestly, the-” She stopped suddenly, looking sternly back at Irridesse. “I don’t know if any of these people have been kicked out, or if they’re innocent. But regardless, you should not try to confront them.” 

“I just want to avoid them! I swear!” Dammit. I shouldn’t have dropped the scared act. 

“Well…” She frowned, hesitating again, before finally sighing in defeat. “I suppose, it would be safest. I think, if I had to guess, it would be either Spiracles Roche, or Carcharias Rubrumpito. They’re the only ones big enough to digest someone Atlantic’s size that quickly. However, I’ve never met them, so I can’t be all that sure…” 

Lacey’s roommate. Shit. She wrung her hands, clutching them until her knuckles paled. “I haven’t heard the name Spiracles before…” 

“He goes by Spike.” Coral fixed her with another stony look. “Do not try to confront anyone about this. But…if you see either of them are still here, let me know, will you?” 

Irridesse nodded quickly-perhaps too quickly, and turned to grab the door-when suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the small room. Loud and thunderous, enough to shake her very bones. 

“Hey, this is, um, Carcharias? I’m one of the Sea Monsters, is this Coral Dulcette’s office?” Coral leaned back, with a flicker of trepidation on her face, before quickly replacing it with a confident smile. 

She darted to the door, shouldering Irridesse aside in the same move. Carcharias. Lacey’s face, eyes reddened and cheeks puffy, flashed in her face. What if the brute had already devoured them? What if Lacey were already in their stomach, screaming and begging for their life? Could I even do anything about it? A mix of terror and rage flooded her system. I will not let my friends get picked off one by one…I will not let us go down without a fight. 

Coral opened the door, and just beyond it, Irridesse could see the rather large sea monster. Two bright blue eyes, greyish skin, and long red hair that floated like blood around his shoulders. One pupil was practically the size of her whole head, and he seemed to be crammed awkwardly into the hallway outside. He smiled, showing a row of sharklike teeth. 

“Carcharias! What can I do for you?” Coral reached out, putting a steadying hand on Irridesse’s shoulder. It hardly helped. 

On the other side of the door, Carcharias’s heart pounded, heavy with guilt. He didn’t recognize the younger mermaid at Dulcette’s side, but just like he had with Atlantic, he could taste the savory-sweet terror and anger rolling off her. With all that had happened, he was still too distracted to eat, but now, his body protested. His face flushed, and he had to look away. Focus. Focus on what you came here for. Answers. 

“Hi, ma’am. Uh, maybe this is a strange question, but why do sea monsters…um…” He faltered, suddenly too overwhelmed with guilt to continue. Why do they…why do we…want to eat you? What a horrid question to ask someone. But who else should he ask? If there was a counselor for his kind, they still hadn’t made an appearance. And not only was Miss Dulcette a psychologist, she was apparently an expert on Sea Monsters. 

“Ahem.” A saw a flash of pity on Coral’s face, before she turned to the girl at her side. “Irridesse, is there anything else you wanted to discuss before you go?” A strange tension thickened the water between them, as Carcharias glanced between the two. 

“Right.” Irridesse, the mermaid, looked back at him. Her face was a mask of fury and disgust-had she been close to Atlantic? Did she think that he was the killer? She moved closer to the door, and even beneath her rage, her fear pierced through the disguise. 

I’m sorry…more sorry than you know. “Sorry, I don’t really fit here…” You can say that again. Both for this hallway, and this entire place. He pressed himself against the wall, gesturing for her to swim past him, albeit awkwardly close. 

She swam out into the hallway slowly, eyes wide and unblinking, darting from his mouth to his hands. Carcharias stayed perfectly still, eyes locked on hers, suddenly feeling rather small beneath her smoldering gaze. She turned away, as if to finally leave. 

But before Carcharias could even relax, she whipped back around, darting right into his face. He let out a yelp, thrashing his tail to pull away from her, only for his head to hit the opposite side of the corridor. He could see her up close now, every luminescent yellow scale, every icey-blue strand of hair. And he could practically taste her heartbeat on his tongue. His jaw clenched, and he turned his head away with a whimper. 

Irridesse stared down at him. For once, staring down at the monster. Somewhere behind them, Coral yelled her name, but she could barely hear the woman. Tension thundered in her blood, pent up from the last two days. She didn’t have much in this world. Materially, sure, she had plenty, but emotionally? There was only Lacey. The only one who hadn’t been scared off. They saw themselves as a coward, but Irridesse didn’t think so at all. And if he hurt them…

Anger had overtaken her instinctual fear. His grimace full of teeth was just beneath her, the literal jaws of death. And yet, she grabbed one eyelid as he turned away, squeezing his eyes shut. He was stronger than her, but her entire upper body could at least overpower one flimsy eyelid. She yanked one eye open, and leaned closer, until her face would take up his entire vision. 

“What are you doing??” Carcharias squealed. His arms jerked up, reaching to grab her and fling her away-only to stop. He couldn’t be violent. Not to a mermaid. What would that make him? Only the monster that everyone suspected him to be. She’s going to tear my fucking eye out!! Do something!  “Getoffgetoffgettoff-!!” 

“Where is Lacey. Where, is Atlantic?! I know you know something, you goddamn monster!” Her voice was shrill and manic, as she drew back her arm, about to throw a punch. Every muscle in Carcharias’s body tensed, bracing for what might be the loss of an entire eye-before Coral suddenly darted up to Irridesse. She grabbed the girl’s arm, dragging her away. 

“Irridesse! That is completely inappropriate. I know you’re scared, but…but you need to act like an adult!” The woman took a deep breath, balling her hands into fists, before backing away. “I’m sorry, Carcharias. Things are just very tense right now…she didn’t hurt you, did she?” 

“N-no ma’am, I’m fine.” His eyelid kind of hurt, but that was nothing serious. He sat up, still trembling slightly as he rubbed his eye. “I know…I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking-” 

“Don’t be.” Her tone was sharp, and she shot Irridesse a look. The mermaid turned away, hunching her shoulders. “Irridesse, please go back to your dorm.” 

The girl hurried off, leaving Carcharias alone with Coral. She reached up to smooth down her messy ginger hair and readjust her glasses, round emerald-green frames. “Alright. Well. Now that we’ve handled that, what can I help you with?” He looked away, guilt returning as the terror of nearly being blinded slowly left him. “If I recall correctly, you were about to ask me a question?” 

“Yeah…see, I actually don’t eat humanoids? I’ve lived my whole life off of stuff like kelp…it’s just how my parents raised me.” He glanced over her shoulder, still unsure what had just happened. She had been shouting about Atlantic…but also Lacey. What does she think I did to Lacey? Wait, is Lacey dead too?? “And everyone else says they need to eat humanoids-like, mers, to live. But I don’t. So I was wondering, what’s up with that? Also, is Lacey okay…?” 

“Lacey…? I’m not sure who that is, but as far as I know, no other students have been reported missing.” Coral cleared her throat, before leaning back against the stoney wall. “As for your other question, I’m not sure. I’ve never encountered vegetarian Sea Monsters before.” She tilted her head, with a puzzled smile. “Frankly, young man, you’re quite the anomaly.” 

“So I’ve realized.” He sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. “But do you think, if I can do it, other people could too? Could other Sea Monsters go without humanoids, and be just fine?” 

“Hm…not in my experience.” Coral folded her arms, shaking her head sadly. “...Quite a while back, I knew a sea monster who tried that.” Her voice grew hushed, suddenly full of grief. “He was young, and fancied himself in love with a mermaid. She loved him back, but the Sea Monster had spent his whole life eating humans. The mermaid couldn’t bring herself to fully love someone so monstrous, and begged him to stop. He tried, and…after a few months, he couldn’t stop himself. He was so desperate, he beached himself on a coastline.” She shook her head slowly, as Carcharias’s eyes widened. “The lack of water would have killed him, if the vengeful humans hadn’t first. I don’t suppose I can blame them-he had lost all control by then-but I…well, it was horribly tragic.” She cleared her throat, looking away. “I have wondered if, perhaps, someone could be unaffected if they simply never started eating humanoids. Perhaps, once you get a taste for it, you can’t live without it. Until then, you’re free…if what you say is true, than I’d suggest you stay vegetarian. You’ll be one of the few who is free.” 

Carcharias stared at her for a moment, before looking back down at himself. It had sounded like an oddly personal story, hadn’t it? Was it about her? He hadn’t even considered that mermaids and Sea Monsters could have romantic feelings for each other. How would they even…not important! “I’m so sorry, Miss Dulcette.” 

“You say that a lot.” She sighed heavily, before turning back to him. “I’d like to think that, someday, I’ll find a way for all of us to coexist safely. But the solution hasn’t come to me yet. I’ll let you know when it does. For now…do your best, Carcharias.” 

“I’ll try…thank you.” He began squirming backward, slowly freeing himself from this narrow chamber. “Oh, wait. That girl…Irridesse? Is she okay?” 

Coral chuckled, pausing in the open door of her office. “I don’t think any of us are right now…but I dare say, you could have defended yourself there. No one would blame you.” 

I sure would blame me. “Ah…okay.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Bambambam! Irridesse couldn’t stop her hand from shaking as she pounded her fist against the door. Lacey’s door. It opened a moment later, revealing a rather confusing girl in front of her. Her skin was a bright pink, marbled with silver-white, and strange pink fins grew from the sides of her head. She was no siren or mer, but she was barely taller than Irridesse herself. She blinked curiously, before stepping back. “Uh, hey…can I help you?” 

“Lacey. Are they here?” Irridesse leaned forward and craned her neck up. The room was almost laughably proportioned. It was a room fit for a giant, complete with a cubby-like “room” on the wall. There were even two different doors, one massive, and one tiny. Or rather, normal. And in one of the smaller beds, Irridesse could just see Lacey. They looked like they had just gotten up, and were squinting in confusion…at two strangers, hovering awkwardly nearby. “What is going on? I need to check on them.” 

“Irri…Rose, who is?” Lacey gestured to the two strangers. They had woken up only a few seconds ago, to find Rosa bickering with a couple of sirens, who now floated nearby. One scowling, the other grinning. And now iridesse was here, practically flinging Rosa out of her path as she darted over. “Hey…?” 

“Hey!” Rosa righted herself, and folded her arms. “What’s with everyone barging in today?” 

“I was worried about you.” Completely ignoring Rosa, Irridesse darted over to Lacey. She grabbed their shoulder roughly, and froze, seemingly unsure of what to do next. “I spoke with coral. We’ve narrowed it down to, probably, two suspects.” 

“Is that so?” One of the sirens had apparently been eavesdropping. Her tail was a dull purple color, contrasting with a silvery spiderweb of tattoos stretching across her arms and chest. Vibrant purple eyes darted between the two mers, while she barely repressed a grin. What was she so giddy about? “Let me explain. I’m De’Lune Claremont-with my assistant, Sol Venegaza-” The other siren, a young man with flowing black hair, shot them both an uncomfortable glance. “I heard through the ole’ grapevine that you two are on the lookout for Mr Mura’s murderer.” 

“Yeah…what’s a siren got to do with it?” Irridesse folded her arms, looking the woman up and down. 

“I’d like to help you!” De’Lune flung her arms out to either side, as if she were giving some grand presentation. “I find the predatory dynamics between Sea Monsters and, well, everyone else, deeply fascinating!” Lacey recoiled, already not liking her creepy enthusiasm for something so morbid. “I’m sure you have your own reasons for seeking the culprit…they need to be brought to justice, of course.” She waved one hand dismissively. “And I-well, we, we can help you!” 

She seemed to remember her assistant now, and grabbed his arm, yanking him forward. Sol gave her a withering look, followed by a long-suffering sigh. “Look, she’s thought a lot about this, okay? She could actually help you guys. We, could actually help you guys. And, if you want like, revenge-“ The ghost of a smile flickered across his face, showing a flash of sharp fangs. “We can also help.”

“Wait, what? They’ve already been found, right?” Rosa swam closer, hovering anxiously at Lacey’s side. “And wouldn’t that be really dangerous for you guys anyway?” 

“Doesn’t matter. We have to find the guy, and be certain he faces consequences for this.” Irridesse tugged Lacey away from Rosa, probably trying to do so subtly. It was ironic, Lacey mused, given Irridesse’s own closeness with Magna. “What’s in it for you two?”

“Knowledge!” De’Lune rubbed her hands together, not unlike a more unhinged Coral Dulcette. “This is a startlingly unique circumstance. Where would I ever find such a case study again?” 

“Lacey? Is she a friend of yours?” Rosa cast a doubtful glance at Irridesse. She looked completely lost, and Lacey felt a pang of guilt for not telling her sooner. 

“Yeah. Finding Atlantic’s killer was mostly her idea.” Irridesse nodded in agreement. “I would’ve told you sooner, it’s just been so busy…” Lacey looked back at the two sirens. “If we have two suspects, and these two want to help, should we get Magna?”

“Good thinking. Cmon.” Irridesse nudged Lacey up, steering them to the door. Apparently, not satisfied with leaving Lacey to Rosa and the sirens. 

————-

Almost an hour later, the entire group was gathered in Lacey’s room. The two sirens, Irridesse, Lacey, and Magna, along with Rosa, who still looked deeply worried. 

“Alright. Let’s get on the same page here.” Irridesse leaned forward. Ever the natural leader. “Magna, these two are De’Lune, and her assistant, Sol. They’re going to help us find our killer with De’Lune’s knowledge of sea monster biology.” Whether or not they would actually be useful, that remained to be seen.

Magna arched one eyebrow. “Oh…kay.”

“And as for YOU-“ Irridesse spun around to point an accusing finger at Rosa, who recoiled away. “I’m not against involving you. I’m not even sure what you are. But if you tell any Sea Monster outside, you are more than small enough for me to whip your ass.” 

Rosa rolled her eyes, while Lacey awkwardly grabbed their friend’s shoulder. “She’s safe. I trust her.” 

“I still don’t get the point of all this. The police already took care of the killer. Why does it matter who they…” She trailed off, seeing the poisonous glare Irridesse aimed at her. “But sure, alright. I won’t tell anyone.” Irridesse glanced back at Lacey, before clearing her throat and carrying on. 

“I spoke to Coral Dulcette about it. And she told me that most of the Sea Monsters are too small to…digest Atlantic that quickly.” Lacey quietly whimpered in spite of themselves. “The only ones large enough to be capable of this are Carcharias Rubrumpito, and Spike Swilton.”

Rosa’s eyes widened, and Irridesse saw the way she stiffened suddenly. She knows something. It was Magna, though, who leaned forward with a concerned expression. “Carcharias seems like a nice guy, from what I’ve seen. Spike is too, but…he’s never tried to call himself vegetarian.” She looked to Rosa, probably seeing the same hesitation that Irridesse did. “Did he go to that party of yours?” 

Rosa sighed, crossing her arms. “Well…yeah. I did hear him joking about eating mers, but most of them do that.” Irridesse scowled, but forced herself to keep quiet. “And Carcharias, trust me, wouldn’t even be capable of eating Atlantic. We tried to talk about it the other day, and he got so flustered…I don’t think he’s ever even been introduced to the idea. But even if it was one of them, wouldn’t they have been taken away already? I mean, the school is run by Mers.” 

“It’s not…illegal, per se?” Irridesse sighed irritably. “Sea Monsters can’t really be arrested by Mers. Not yet, anyway. There’s too much power imbalance. So they’ve always been considered sort of above the law. But this was advertised as a safe place. Not a death trap. Though I do trust Coral’s judgment…are both of them still here?” 

“They are.” Rosa spoke up again, now in a hushed tone. “They were both in psychology this morning, after the announcement was made.” 

“If I may-” De’Lune piped up now, as she threw an arm around her assistant. “I can find out for sure, if the subject is willing to prove their innocence. Based on what we heard so far, Atlantic’s body should still be inside their stomach. Certainly not alive anymore, but still there.” A strange grin spread across her face. “If I can get them to eat me, I can find and identify his body for you!” 

Irridesse wasn’t often at a loss for words, but now, she stared at the siren in shocked silence. Lacey let out a nervous laugh, while Magna chuckled quietly. It was Rosa who broke the awkward silence, with an exasperated sigh. “I think it should be obvious, but that doesn’t seem very safe. Getting eaten by someone who swallowed and digested Atlantic will almost certainly end the same way for you.” An apologetic expression flitted across her face, as she looked at the unfazed De’Lune. “It’s just common sense.” 

“Not to worry! We sirens are prepared for danger. You all know what a Siren song is, don’t you?” 

Irridesse wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t really thought much about sirens, or their abilities. But she knew they were able to wield some kind of vocal magic, which they called a siren song. “...Yes.” 

De’Lune didn’t seem to notice her uncertain reply. “Mine is a necrosis spell. Basically, I can kill them from the inside out if I need to! No need to worry about me!”

Goddammit. De’Lune was weird, a freak even, that much was for sure. But she had total confidence, despite her size, and it was completely warranted. If Mermaids had natural weapons like that, they would never need to be afraid again. I wonder if Mers are capable of using magic like that…? 

“I dunno. You’re talking about getting Carcharias and Spike to eat you…I don’t know about Spike, but Carcharias is never going to agree to that.” Rosa shook her head, before glancing sadly at Carcharias’s giant setup on the other side of the room. “This isn’t the first time he’s been accused of eating Atlantic. And he may want a way to prove his innocence, but not like this.”

Irridesse groaned, looking back at the two sirens. “Can’t you guys hypnotize him or something?” 

De’Lune shrugged helplessly, and Sol just snorted. “She can’t. And I can change my appearance, but that’s it.” Even while he admitted weakness, he sounded quite arrogant. 

“But-!” De’Lune leaned forward, closing the gap between her and Irridesse until the mermaid leaned back. I sure hope her weird obsessions aren’t contagious. “Give me some time, and I think I can make this work.” Another wicked grin lit up her face. 

Rosa’s brow furrowed suddenly. “Hang on. What’re you gonna do to him?”

“Just convince him, that’s all! I’m quite convincing.” Sol nodded, as if in begrudging agreement with her. 

“That’ll work.” She looked back at Magna. “Did you have any luck talking to Spike?” 

“No dice. He seemed kind of defensive, but I guess anyone would be.” She glanced at De’Lune doubtfully. “He’d probably take you up on proving his innocence, if you talk to him right.”

“Fine.” Irridesse looked around at the group of different species all huddled together. “De’Lune, go find Carcharias and Spike. Bring them here.” She remembered her earlier altercation with the former, and winced internally. “And don’t tell them I'm here.” She took a deep breath, steadying the sudden anxiety that ran down her spine. “We’ll find Atlantic’s killer, once and for all.”  --------- Author's note: Thanks so much for everyone whose been reading this story, and telling me how much you've enjoyed it!! You guys are so sweet! Im also going to be be making a pinned post with links to each chapter in just a bit, since some of the aforementioned people are wanting to reread the story so far aaand @yummynomms , next chapter is here! Since they asked to be tagged :)

[seren1tyhaze]

i miss you more than i loved you

PAIRING: idolverse!jaehyun x johnny (ft other neos)

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: it's been years since jaehyun and johnny ended things and he's grown distant from the members and their past life together. an ig post brings everything flooding back in, love and all the pain that came with it.

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday ily <3 thank you to everyone who pre-read snippets of this as well

WARNINGS: mlm relationships, boys kissing and stuff, lots of angst, profanity, some sexual references but no explicit smut

PLAYLIST: miss you more by katy perry

We were a match, but not a fit We were a dream, unrealistic

--

“Hyung, can you come monitor for me?” a fuzzy voice broke past the music playing in Jaehyun’s headphones as he scrolled on his phone, sunk down in a plush leather chair.

Pulling aside the headphones, Jaehyun lifted his gaze up to see Jisung with a hand lightly on his shoulder. His face was calm, brows knitted together lightly as he looked down through long bangs.

Jaehyun let out a small and tired sigh, smiling lightly up at the younger man, following him into the dance studio, leaning against the glass as he watched the group follow intricate choreography to a slower track filled with a booming base.

He had finally given into his manager’s coaxing to support the preparation for the comeback of the new subunit of some of the youngest members of the company and it had pushed forward old memories he had wished to forget. He knew they were just doing it to get him out of his apartment and give him some sort of schedule to what his routine had become.

In the years since he had been active, much had changed at the company but he saw himself in the bright, young faces of the young men in front of him. He smiled as he watched one of the tallest of the group toss his arms around a slightly shorter blonde, squeezing his chest with strong arms from behind. Sleeves of their thin workout shirts rose up on their shoulders, matching ink adorning their smooth skin. Jaehyun felt his own hand push over a small outline of a cat tattooed on the side of his wrist, warmth blooming as the tips of his fingers made contact.

Memories of dancing in the same studio flooded his brain, blurring his vision with tears building in his eyes. He could practically feel the hands on shoulder blades, correcting posture, repetition of small foot movements, and almost hear the boisterous laughter echoing off the glassy, mirrored walls.

His eyes flicked downwards to his phone held tightly in his palm, seeing hotel bookings and flights coming through with little notes interspersed from Jungwoo. He reacted to the messages with a simple thumbs up, turning his attention back to the fluid movements of the dancers, whispering and gesturing to the choreographer standing next to him. He knew she could tell his mood had shifted in the last month, everyone at the company was walking on eggshells around him and it was tearing him apart every time he walked in the building. No one knew what to say or how to act around him after an Instagram post on a sunny Saturday had changed everything.

--

He hadn’t meant to see the picture and instantly regretted offering to help fix some settings on his sister’s phone while sitting on the small patio of his family home.

“Why are you following him?” Jaehyun had spat, heat rising in his cheeks as he threw the phone, suddenly on fire in his hands, onto her lounge chair.

“So I can make sure you don’t have this reaction! How am I supposed to keep you from seeing things if I don’t know that they are out there?” she yelled back, voice raising, causing his mother to peek her head out the screen door.

“What’s going on?” she called out absently, bouncing his sister’s baby on her hip.

“You two constantly baby me! I’m almost 35 years old!” Jaehyun called back, crossing his arms with a huff across his broad chest. The sun suddenly felt too hot, his face burning with anger and embarrassment.

“You sure don’t act it…” his sister replied in a murmured tone, sliding her sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose and picking up the device that had caused the argument.

“Sorry…” he replied in the same tone, smoothing his palms over his thighs and picking up his own phone.

Since he had already seen the engagement announcement, he nervously opened Instagram, moving his finger carefully to Johnny’s profile, taking the pad of his thumb off the screen as soon as he found the post so as to not accidentally interact.

The first photo was the small and manicured hand of Johnny’s now-fiancee, a glimmering diamond ring set in gold on her ring finger. The sun was setting in the background and a glass of champagne was just out of frame next to her slender forearm.

Jaehyun almost couldn’t bring himself to swipe to the second photo in the post. He definitely wasn’t ready to read the caption or comments.

“You okay, J?” his sister asked, tipping her sunglasses again in an attempt to make eye contact  with her suddenly quiet brother.

“Uh yeah, yeah…” he replied distantly, locking his phone and slipping it into the pocket of his shorts. Squinting into the sun, he let it blind him momentarily, glimmering orbs floating in his vision for a few moments as he tipped his head back onto the back of the chair and let his eyes close shut, pushing the welling tears out and down his still warm face.

Later that night, alone in his apartment, he pulled the post up on his computer, cracking his fingers before letting his hands rest at his temple, drilling his elbows painfully down onto the sturdy wood desk.

Jaehyun studied the ring again, admiring the low light glimmering in the face of the stone, the antiqued finish of the band, and her perfectly shaped and glossy nails. He trained his eye on every detail in the first photo before a shaking hand clicked to the second.

A warm smile he hadn’t seen in almost six years occupied most of the screen, with the owner of the hand from the previous photo digging her face into his shoulder, long and wavy dark locks splayed out over his linen shirt-clad chest.

Jaehyun’s throat tightened as he dug his fingers into the skin at his hairline, massaging lightly. Blinking back the pooling tears, he let himself lift his gaze to meet Johnny’s eyes. His face was bright with a large and devious smile adorning it, as it was known to, his eyes narrowed - a sign of pure joy.

His hair was longer than Jeahyun expected it to be, with a small dark tuft caught up by a passing breeze. Small silver hoops hung from his ears and his hair looked soft and slightly damp, accompanied by a light flush in his cheeks that could have been from excitement or the wine or too much time in the Brazilian sun.

Instinctively, Jaehyun brought his hand to his own lips as his eyes dragged down the screen to examine the photo further. Johnny’s lips were pulled tight across his face, plush pink exposing a flashing white smile, too happy for words. His tattooed arm was thrown around her shoulder and his hand was lingering on her upper arm. Jaehyun knew what it felt like to have Johnny’s thumb rub absent circles on the flesh there and shuddered under the feeling of the phantom touch on his own arm.

Slamming his hand back down to his desk, Jaehyun finally let himself read the caption, which caused his breath to catch hard in the back of his throat, triggering a deep and husky cough.

“You’ll always be my favorite… ;)”

Locking his computer screen quickly, Jaehyun stood up before he could let himself read the congratulatory comments from hundreds of thousands of other celebrities, former fans, brands, and more. Nausea rose in his throat and he pressed down on the bridge of his nose to calm the light headed sensation.

Yanking his phone from the desk surface, he clicked quickly and waited for the phone to ring on the other end.

“Hey, you okay?” came Doyoung’s calming tone from the other end of the line. It had been hours since the photos had been posted, but Doyoung knew the only reason Jaehyun would be calling him.

“No…” Jaehyun trailed off, voice deep and tone hushed, moving quickly to his kitchen and pouring a generous serving of dark liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Of course he’s not fucking okay, Jesus! Look at that caption!” called a familiar voice in the background.

“Oh...is Mark there?” Jaehyun asked, taking a long swig of whiskey from the short glass and nearly choking on the liquid.

“Yeah, him and Hyuck stopped by for a bit,” Doyoung muttered quietly, feeling a tinge of remorse in his chest having to admit that there was a growing gathering of former members at his home.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ll let you go…”Jaehyun trailed off, heat rising in his face again.

“No, no, it’s okay, actually, do you want to come over? I know you’ve been spending a lot of time at home, which is why I didn’t ask, and I just…” Doyoung trailed off, rambling words dying in his throat.

Ready to refuse his pity invite, Jaehyun pulled his phone away from his ear and switched to speakerphone as he felt it buzz against his cheek.

Jungwoo had texted him a long message, pouring out flowery sympathies and imploring him to come over and be amongst old friends.

Jaehyun felt like he was being consoled after a distant family member’s passing, but reluctantly admitted defeat and told Doyoung he would be on his way shortly. The last thing he wanted to do was to be drunkenly begged to harmonize lines from Perfume or watch Mark attempt a headspin that would inevitably result in him cracking his head on the side of a table.

He checked himself in the mirror before grabbing his keys by his front door. His eyes looked tired, dark hair falling long across his brow, and his gray sweatpants were wrinkled. He pushed a navy baseball cap over his hair and grabbed his leather jacket to slide over a tight white undershirt.

Setting a comfortable pace on the highway, with too many cars zipping past him for the time of night, he settled on a recommended playlist on his Spotify, letting the songs slip out of his speakers and around his brain.

Johnny was happy. That should have made him happy. Instead, his mind was clouded with jealousy, regret, and sadness. Jealousy of the happy young woman cuddled up under his lightly tanned arm, regret for the drunken, angry words he had yelled in Johnny’s face at Jaemin and Jeno’s wedding, and sadness for the length of time they had gone without speaking.

After looking at the photos a few more times at a stop light, he realized he recognized her. A friend of a friend of Mark’s family, who had been brought by the green room years ago to meet the group casually during an award’s show. She had been warm and talkative, yet remaining respectful and keeping distance from the members. Johnny had made her feel more at ease by speaking with her in English and Jaehyun remembers the years of teasing that went on whenever he would leave a comment on her Instagram from his private account or mention that he and Mark had run into her on a trip to New York. He knew they stayed in touch over the years and with Johnny spending more than half the year in Chicago and LA now, it made sense that they would have reconnected.

Suddenly, the song lyrics on the current track registered with his brain and he had to tighten his hands on the steering wheel to not drift into the next lane.

Saw your picture on accident Your face has changed The lines are sinking in

I pressed play, I shouldn’t have Congratulations But do you ever wonder what we could have been?

He reached a shaking hand over to illuminate the screen of his phone, indicating that “Miss You More” by Katy Perry was hitting a little too close to home at that moment.

In an attempt to skip the song, he simply skipped ahead a few beats, the haunting lyrics doing little to console him.

I miss you more than I loved you I do

Jaehyun shut off the sound system and drove the rest of the way in silence, soon finding himself staring down at clean, white sneakers at the door of Doyoung’s apartment.

Awkwardly reaching out his knuckles to the door, he knocked, knowing entering without announcement would surely result in wide eyed stares, based on the amount of voices he heard in the background on the phone.

Jungwoo pulled open the door with a worried look in his sweet eyes. His hair was fluffy and dyed a honey brown, eyes looking tired but still offering warmth. He had been working long hours on set of the music show he was producing and he knew that the exhaustion spread across his features matched the one that met Jaehyun every time he looked in the mirror.

“Hey honey,” he croaked out, voice breaking as he spoke, pulling Jaehyun into a loose hug.

Jaehyun stiffened but quickly melted into his old friend’s embrace, wrapping strong arms around his back and dropping his head to his shoulder. He let himself breathe deeply into Jungwoo’s soft and loose sweater, before lifting his eyes to see Mark on the couch, gaze trained on his phone, held loosely in his hands between bent knees.

Hyuck was next to Mark, arm loosely tossed around him, looking up and offering a weak smile at Jaehyun as he stepped into the space. He nudged Mark’s knee with his, nodding over to Jaehyun, encouraging him to greet him. Mark lifted his head to meet Jaehyun’s stare, tipping his chin up lightly at him before digging his shoulder up under Hyuck’s arm and nuzzling into his side, turning his attention back to his phone.

Jaehyun attempted a small smile at one of his oldest friends, before gulping, nerves creeping in. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“Well well well, the gang’s all here..” came a new voice, emerging from the kitchen with two beers in his hands. Taeyong gripped the two, cold glass bottle necks in one grip, reaching his other hand out to nudge Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly.

“You okay?” he asked, voice a little quieter. A red beanie was pulled tightly over short hair, a baggy black hoodie covering his frame and hood pulled up over the hat.

“Yeah, Tae, thanks,” Jaehyun mumbled in reply, brushing past their former leader lightly as he caught a glimpse of Doyoung through the doorway to the kitchen.

Taeyong nodded in response, handing one of the beers to Mark, resisting the urge to clink the green glass together in a gesture that would be received as too celebratory for the occasion of the gathering.

Jaehyun shuffled into the kitchen, following as Doyoung slipped out the back door and onto the balcony to light a cigarette.

Without a word, Doyoung pulled Jaehyun into a hug as soon as he stepped into the warm, summer night air. For the first time since he left his apartment, Jaehyun started to feel the tears prick at the corners of his eyes again.

“We miss seeing you,” Doyoung spoke, voice warm as he pulled away from the hug. He scanned Jaehyun’s face, looking to process the image of the shell of the man he once knew and still cared for.

“You know, you don’t need an excuse to call or stop by. And I didn’t mean to exclude you, Taeyong was just around this weekend, for once,” Doyoung continued, exhaling a long breath of smoke.

“I know, Doie, I know…” Jaehyun replied, taking a drag of Doyoung’s cigarette when offered it. The nicotine burned his throat but it also drew his attention away from the rising ache in his chest, helping to block the tears from forming further.

“Have you thought about contacting…” Doyoung started, sucking in a deep breath before beginning the tricky sentence.

“I’m not calling him,” Jaehyun replied quickly, voice loud as they both made their way back into the kitchen. He knew the rest of the group surely had heard his statement, which caused his chest to tighten.

“Great, so the rest of us just have to deal with this shit now,” came Mark’s quiet voice, head dipped down on his phone again.

“Mark, chill,” Taeyong scolded, placing his now empty bottle on the coffee table and shooting daggers with dark eyes.

“Deal with what? The fact that I fell in love with him like an idiot and when our relationship didn’t work out, I couldn’t manage to make things normal again?” Jaehyun spat out, closing the gap to stand behind Taeyong’s spot on the couch, attempting to force Mark to look at him.

“Well, that’s definitely part of it!” Mark retorted, a light chuckle falling from his lips at the end of his statement. He placed his phone down on the table, running a hand through his short hair.

Hyuck darted worried eyes first to Doyoung, now standing near Jaehyun, then to Jungwoo, knees pulled up on the corner of the couch with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and then to Taeyong. Taeyong shook his head lightly, silently encouraging the conversation that had been bubbling for months.

“So it’s all my fault that everything fell apart? I fucking knew you blamed me for everything. He’s always been perfect in your eyes!” Jaehyun spat back, right hand tightening into a fist at his side. Sweat was forming at the back of his neck and he was feeling unbearably hot underneath the thick fabric of his jacket.

“Guys, stop…” Hyuck tried, voice breaking as he placed a hand gently on Mark’s knee, “We don’t need to fight. Nothing is anyone’s fault.”

“No, no, Hyuck, it is my fault. It’s my fault I couldn’t handle the pressure of fame. It’s my fault I wasn’t honest about my feelings for Johnny sooner. It’s my fault I overanalyzed and publicized our relationship. It’s my fault I couldn’t listen to him when he started being unhappy. And it’s my fault he barely talks to any of you anymore.” Jaehyun rambled on, each word more biting than the last, all the while, his eyes trained on Mark.

Mark suddenly stood, pulling his leg out from under Hyuck’s tightening grip, Taeyong standing suddenly too, as if to get in between him and his potential target.

Mark brushed past the tense posture of Taeyong, pushing into Jaehyun’s personal space, voice dropping low to almost a whisper. His face was close and Jaehyun could smell the two or three beers he had shared with Taeyong prior to his arrival. He was worried at what Mark would say next, knowing he had probably rehearsed this outburst countless times and repeated the complaints to Hyuck on long car rides or while dozing on their couch.

“None of that matters. The only thing I blame you for is not fighting harder for him. He loved you. We all know that.”

Jaehyun’s mouth hung open upon hearing the words, unable to reply, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t hate you, I just want my best friend back. Stop fucking pushing us away,” Mark let out, now close enough that Jaehyun could see the tears threatening to spill from his dark brown eyes.

This time, Jaehyun initiated the hug, pulling close his friend in the most familiar embrace that now felt so foreign. They had all lived together for what felt like an eternity, growing more comfortable in each other’s spaces and routines, but now felt more like strangers after so many years apart. They all used to share everything and now, their fragmented lives barely held shadows of their past.

“Do you still want to fight for him?” Mark breathed out, words ghosting over the shell of Jaehyun’s ear, making his heart stop momentarily in his chest.

All Jaehyun could manage in that moment was a curt nod, silently begging the lyrics of the song from the car to not be his fate.

We were a match, but not a fit We were a dream, unrealistic We didn’t lose, we didn’t win

“So are we going to Parent Trap this shit or what?” Jungwoo asked in excitement, voice pitching up an octave as he broke through the tension of the living room.

Jaehyun chuckled, letting the first laugh in days escape his lips, causing the room to erupt in laughter. His eyes crinkled up in the corners as his smile engulfed his face and deepened as he watched Hyuck pull Mark to him and plant a short kiss on his lips. Doyoung slammed a couple bottles of soju on the table next to short glasses and Taeyong reached out to begin pouring them.

At that moment, Jaehyun felt like he was finally home. He knew that even if he never again saw that heartstopping smile on Johnny’s face or heard him moan out his name in ecstasy, that he could find happiness in the arms of his friends in the summer night air. His heart had always been happiest here and he just hoped he wasn’t too late to bring Johnny back home.

--

[callgespenst]

It wasn't a hugely eventful convention or anything but I should probably still write up my Matsuricon 2024 report.

Thursday: Had a friend stay over at my place for the weekend. Pregamed the con by watching a few more episodes of Legend of the Galactic Heroes.

Friday: Cosplayed Soujyurou from Mahoyo, made the jacket and safety pinned my Robin plush to my shoulder. Showed up, grabbed my badge, ran our Lupin III panel for the first time in...four and a half years? Went out into the hallway to chat with people who attended the panel. Then suddenly it was four hours later and we went home.

Saturday: Went home early on Friday to be awake and in a panel room at 8 AM on Saturday to talk about robots for two hours. Midway through the 90s we realized that, despite getting the longest possible timeslot, we were still almost out of time, and had to blast through the last three decades. Haven't done that panel in a while either (haven't done too many panels in general since the pandemic).

Got lunch and looked around the dealer's hall for a bit. I got a rubber charm of Bocchi (of Rock) from a gachapon machine. Not a whole lot else I was interested in, but that's objectively a good thing. Then it was off to the YGO tournament!

I'd revamped my deck (again) because I had made a few key realizations. First, I don't know my opponents' decks well enough to effectively use hand traps to shut down a combo. Second, many modern decks are relatively unprepared to handle a board-clearing spell. Monster effects are simple to negate and counter with a full board. But spells, maybe not. And third, and this one is the most critical part: having a balanced deck of 50/50 monsters/spells and traps no longer matters. I was taking out a bunch of monsters that would never, ever actually be played to the field, their only point in my deck was to be discarded as a counter; to switch in three copies of Raigeki, three Dark Holes, and two Lightning Storms.

It wasn't a huge tourney, there were eleven other players, for what would end up being three rounds of single elimination. My first game, I played a guy who had some kinda deck full of Dinosaurs and counter trap cards. It was an interesting playstyle I hadn't seen before, but I won that 2-0. Second game, Kashtira. Won the first duel, lost the second, won the third. Third and final game, which I sure didn't expect to get to the finals, was vs Ancient Gears, another deck that prefers to go second. Lost the first game, won the second, and I might have been able to win the third if I hadn't let myself get psyched out. But I'm still pretty pleased with my performance, considering I've lost just about every other match I've played with my new deck 0-2.

The second place prize was a bunch of tournament packs, and first place was as well, plus a free badge for next year. The first place winner let me have his pack pulls, which was nice, I'm still building back up a selection of trades to have available. I didn't really need a free badge for next year anyway since I'm planning on paneling again, and my opponent getting a free badge means we can rematch next year! So honestly, I'm kinda glad I got second.

Also while everyone waited for the tourney to start, everyone was ribbing on one guy for his very expensive deck he was keeping in the world's most basic $3 deckbox, so that was entertaining. Reminded me of the fellas I used to play YGO with at the local library, where there was always some friendly banter back and forth.

After that I hung out with a few more friends, played some Melty Blood, and went home.

Sunday: The traditional day at a con where I play mahjong with the homies until we pack up and go home. I got in one whole game before we took all the tables back to our organizer's car (that took half an hour to find). That wrapped up the event and then I got home and conked out early Sunday evening and most of Monday too. I didn't even do a whole lot of running around or anything, I was just tired.

Also my last few conventions have been so overwhelmingly positive on the whole that I forgot that these events are also frequented by people who are weird in not-fun ways. That last mahjong game, had a fella start spouting off about he hates being referred to as cis, despite being a cis hetero male. I hit him with the "I hate the cis because they are led by the treacherous Count Dooku" and that worked surprisingly well at changing the subject, but it was still, terribly awkward there for a second, especially when another of our club's regulars at the same table is one of the most Gender individuals I know.

Anyway that's probably my last anime con for the year, but there's a new event coming to the area in April I think I'll hit up, excited to see what that's like.

[killalluchihas]

good vibes/bad juju - 58

While on a mission overseas, Gojo gets K-O'd by an unknown person. Within a week, every sorcerer in Japan has heard about it. (A JJK OC story - Rated M, Graphic Violence)

[Chapter One] [Ao3 link] [Previous] [Next]

–/–/–/–

chapter fifty-eight: opening moves Wendy is kind of miserable

10 September 2018 Tokyo Jujutsu Tech

The two of them relocate to Gojo’s living room, settling on a plush leather couch that must be twice the size of the one in Yoshi’s quarters. Even though the couch is large enough for Gojo to lay flat on, long legs and all, he doesn’t sit very far from her. In fact, their knees brush against each other as he twists around to face her.

She took off his glasses earlier, and now she regrets leaving them in the kitchen. Gojo’s eyes really are uncanny—undeniably beautiful, yes, but the blues that make up his irises are unnatural too. Yoshi wants to stare and stare, but she also feels completely exposed when he looks at her.

“There’s a lot to explain,” she says suddenly, her gaze wandering away from his. She looks at his hair instead, then his throat, then her own hands in her lap.

Yoshi feels off. It’s because they kissed, and it was good, even though she’s desperately trying to forget it happened.

“I figured it would be a long explanation,” Gojo says lazily, reclining against the cushions. “That’s okay. I like it when you lecture, Sensei.”

Her mouth almost curls into a smile, but she resists. “I, uh, might as well give you a history lesson, then,” she says, hating her own hesitant tone. Gojo doesn’t seem to notice it. In fact, he’s smiling again, and Yoshi hears her heart thudding in her chest.

“Go on, then,” he coaxes her.

She just hopes this doesn’t ruin everything. Taking a deep breath, she says, “In the golden age of sorcery, there were those that could see the future. Or feel it. Hear it. Dream it…”

“Depends on the technique,” Gojo murmurs, looking curious. “There used to be a sorcerer like that in my clan, long ago. A seer.”

She nods. “This situation with the barrier sorcerer, it started with a seer.”

—/—/—

12 February 1996 East Village, Manhattan

There is a shift in the air that everyone can feel, but only a few are able to put a name to it. Most blame it on a cold front moving in last night, a chill creeping over the winter sky and permeating through walls and fabric and flesh until it reaches bone. But it’s more than just bad weather.

Some happened last night, something great enough to ripple through the earth and air and touch thousands of lives.

A meeting has been called among the sorcery council’s leaders. They’re knowns as the Ten Heads, though only six regularly meet and the rest cling to the title in name alone. It’s enough to get the job done, so anyone that grumbles about the name and the hierarchy and the inefficiencies of the Ten Heads does so under their breath.

It’s too sudden for all of the heads to convene at once, especially the ones that haven’t stepped foot in the council’s headquarters in years. They aren’t prepared.

Omar is prepared, though. He’s been anticipating this day.

He looks out of place in the conference room, his brimmed hat stained and his tweed jacket fraying at the edges, and yet he has a seat today. His family is known to the Ten, though no member has held the title in forty-something years. They used to have the council’s ear, back when they still had use of their most infamous cursed technique. But that power dwindled out of reach over the decades, whittled down to the version that Omar holds now.

It’s still a powerful technique, if you ask Omar. But no one asks anymore.

Even now, most of them look annoyed as Omar opens up his case and sets up an old, well-loved board. The pieces were lovingly carved from soapstone, artwork from his gifted grandmother, and Omar calmly names them as he places them on the squares of the board.

“You can skip this part, Mr. Newman, we know how to play chess,” someone interrupts.

Omar nods, and continues to place his pawns. “Ah, it’s just a habit of mine. And there’s no harm in a refreshing your memory.”

“Do you know what’s happening or not?” someone asks. “Your forecasts aren’t that accurate. We haven’t had a proper seer in New York for decades.”

He pauses for a long moment, looking at each member seriously. “Do you have an alternative?” he asks, a quiet gleam in his eye.

An older woman purses her wrinkled lips, hands clasped in front of her on the table. “The wards around the city are failing, it’s just a matter of time before we’re attacked and overrun with curses,” she says to the others. “We need answers.”

No one disagrees with her. “Go on, Mr. Newman.”

And that’s all the consent that he needs. Nothing changes, not noticeably, but the doors to the conference room seal themselves off. The council heads fidget in their seats, but no one dares to get up from the table. If they tried, they’d forfeit the game.

Omar Newman looks over the chess board and moves one of the white pawns forward. “You should know that not every move is meant as an attack,” he muses, “Sometimes, it’s just an opening.”

—/—/—

Yoshi picks at a loose string on her dress, gathering her words. A pale hand drops over hers, ungraceful and abrupt.

“Why is this so hard for you to talk about?” Gojo asks, and then pauses to yawn widely.

He presses one cheek onto the leather couch cushion behind him, squashing the side of his face. His eyes droop. Yoshi wonders what time it is, but catches herself before she tries to check a watch that isn’t there. She left his fancy one in the kitchen.

Yoshi shakes her head. “I’ve never had to explain it before.” Or rather, justify it to someone like Gojo. Someone that might tell her to stop. Someone that could make her stop.

She wishes Wendy was here to do the talking.

“I might miss some details,” she admits. “But I know there was a seer, and that he was loyal to that barrier sorcerer. A lot of people were loyal to them, because of the protection they gave.”

Though she chose her phrasing carefully, Gojo sees through it. “This is during the Heian period… Tengen—this is when the barrier sorcerer was worshipped as a god,” he clarifies. His voice goes oddly flat as he adds, “I’m familiar with their cult.”

“Well, this seer made a binding vow with the barrier sorcerer. I know it happened because that cult still exists, and they believe they were promised a powerful vessel. And the barrier sorcerer knows it too, because he promised to merge when the time came.”

“But it had to be that vessel, the strongest one,” Gojo interjects, looking rather solemn. “It had to be you, or Tengen’s worshippers wouldn’t allow the merger to happen at all…They would rather have him keep evolving.”

Yoshi pauses to examine his expression. He does know about this, at least in part. “You’re missing the point, Gojo,” she tells him seriously. “The worshippers didn’t make a vow. Tengen is the one in breach of contract. He knew the prophecy and his part in it, he probably felt when it came to pass. So on the 11th of February, 1996, a jujutsu sorcerer was sent to New York.”

“Your birthday,” Gojo says unnecessarily. He tilts his head. “I guess Mariko had some things to say about that.”

—/—/—

12 February 1996 Jamaica, Queens

Two women sit in a hospital room. It’s a shared room, so they’ve drawn a privacy curtain halfway around the bed, and whisper their conversation so they don’t wake up the patients.

“Any more anchors I can help with?”

The woman’s voice is airy and untroubled, like she’s offering to run an errand on her way out.

It grates on Mariko’s mind, that she could be so carefree. That she can act so detached, while Mariko’s whole life has been uprooted. The worst part is that she’s beholden to this woman now, this jujutsu sorcerer, after spending years trying to forget sorcery even exists.

But she can swallow bitter pills. “I need more time to create them, first,” Mariko says.

“Hmm.” The woman rests her weight forward, elbows braces against her knees as she looks at the hospital bed in front of them. “You’ll have to install those yourself, I need to leave soon.”

Mariko’s hands twitch, so she curls them into fists in her lap. “Have we concealed it enough? The council won’t find—?”

“Oh, I’ve got a friend on your council,” the woman’s mouth curls into a smirk. “Newman is a good man. He’s gotten them to settle down. You’re in luck, Mariko-chan. The Americans were never informed of this prophecy, so they don’t recognize the signs. Eventually you’ll want to make contact, but that can wait.”

But Mariko is stuck on just one word. Luck. The very thought of it makes her stomach churn. She’s never been a very lucky person. Things don’t just work out in her favor, not without effort. And she isn’t naive enough to think that this sorcerer is helping out of the kindness of her heart.

“What were you really sent here to do?” Mariko asks her steadily. “This prophecy told you how to find us, but what happens next?”

The woman offers her a sheepish smile. “Well, it’s a funny thing. My mission was to locate and destroy a massive threat to jujutsu society. Instead there’s a squirmy, pink sorcerer with a whole lot of power. So I’m beginning to wonder if there’s other things I haven’t been told.”

“You were sent to kill her. An infant.”

Mariko wonders why she’s surprised. When have jujutsu sorcerers ever cared for the wellbeing of children?

The sorcerer shrugs. “That hardly matters now that she’s hidden properly. What’s important is finding out what exactly this prophecy said, because clearly something was lost in translation.”

The curtain is pushed aside, silencing Mariko’s next words. Her husband stares back at her, affection written over his face. “Everything okay, querida?”

She nods back. Closes her eyes as he stands behind her chair and kisses the top of her head. He mutters against her black hair, “Reina is looking better. She was crying because they took her blood, though. Yo también quería llorar,” he laments.

Mariko pats his hand. “Kawaisō ni,” she says, amused. “You are worse than Danica.”

He glances at the sleeping girl on the cot. “We’ll need to wake her soon, or Wendy will do it for us,” he warns.

The jujutsu sorcerer rises to her full height, towering over them as she stretches. “I’d better go. I have places to be, paperwork to forge...”

He chuckles. “Back to Tokyo, then? Do you miss home?”

“Oh, not really. I’ll stop by Tokyo, sure, but then I’m off to Hong Kong… then Mumbai, I think…”

He gives her a smile, though he’s a little puzzled. “What is it that you do again, Yuki?”

She winks, tossing blonde hair over her shoulder. “A bit of everything. It keeps me busy, but I’ll be back here soon enough.”

—/—/—

10 September 2018 Greenwich Village, Manhattan

The weather takes a turn by the time they exit the subway. The air is colder, and the clouds overhead cast a gloom over the streets. Wendy has three more books on her list to read.

“Hold up,” Isaiah says suddenly, while they wait at a crosswalk. “Wasn’t my painting at your place?”

She casts him a bemused look. “Well, yeah. It was on the wall when the place got lit up.”

His jaw drops. “And someone still got in?”

Wendy gives him a sympathetic smile. Isaiah’s cursed technique is suited for protection and concealment, and his paintings are highly valued for it. He’s not inclined towards curse exorcisms, which is why he was annoyed about being sent to Arizona for one. It ended up working out, of course, but Isaiah still holds a grudge over it.

“It was a Zenin, from one of the Japanese clans,” she explains.

Isaiah lets out a noise of disgust. “Of course it was a clansman. You’d think they’d die out by now. It’s 2018 and we still have clansmen…” He’s obviously talking about more than the jujutsu clans of Japan, so Wendy lets him rant. “Since when do they care about Yoshi, anyway?”

She sighs. “She picked a fight with Gojo Satoru last month.” He pulls a sour face at that name, like most sorcerers do. “Everyone heard about it. It’s been downhill since then.”

“Yeah, I bet the Japanese council wants to execute her, they’re so dramatic,” Isaiah muses as they cross the street. “Is that what you need advice about?”

“No,” she replies, sticking close to his side as they navigate the busy sidewalk. “It’s about the mission she’s on.”

“Talkin’ about your mission or something she’s been assigned?”

She can feel Isaiah’s eyes on her now, and Wendy deliberately avoids his gaze. She doesn’t want Isaiah to get too interested in this, even though she needs his help. He only has a surface-level understanding of what Yoshi does, but he’s a clever guy. He knows what questions to ask, unlike most people.

“She’s been crossing paths with curse users,” Wendy says. “That’s the main concern.”

Isaiah looks at her uncertainly. “You mean like Quinn, or like, that creep who eats other people’s teeth? There’s a lot of nuance to that title, for years I’ve been sayin’ that we need to categorize ‘em differently,” he remarks.

“You’re right and that’s the problem, I don’t know what sort of curse users we’re dealing with,” Wendy says. She looks past him, towards the greenery they’re approaching. “He’s in there?” she asks, surprise coloring her words.

Isaiah scoffs. “Of course he is.”

“It just… seems too obvious,” she chuckles.

“Uncle Omar likes his routines. But!” Isaiah puts an arm out in front of Wendy before she can cross the threshold into Washington Square Park. “You gotta be prepared. He doesn’t play with a time limit. Have you eaten today?”

Eaten? Wendy scratches her head in thought.

“Uh. I had coffee, and a cheese danish… half of it,” she admits, feeling sheepish when Isaiah gives her another disdainful look. “I don’t really eat a lot for breakfast!”

“Yeah, sure,” he says sarcastically. “You’ll just say it’s the most important meal of the day, then you chug twelve ounces of coffee on an empty stomach and wonder why you feel like crap all the time. Come on, I’ll buy your sorry ass a sandwich.”

—/—/—

Yoshi leans back into the corner of Gojo’s couch, folding her arms. “I think you know that sorcerer, the one that was sent to New York. I have her contact information on my old phone if you need it, but I left that back at my apartment.” She glances at Gojo to assess his reaction, only to find his expression completely slack.

Not in shock or disbelief, no. He’s fucking asleep.

“Hey,” she says loudly, but gets no response. She shakes his arm until he stirs and groans.

“Yes, I’m listening,” Gojo insists. His eyes are still closed.

“What was the last thing I said?” Yoshi demands.

His face scrunches up, and he presses it into the couch cushion. Voice muffled, he replies, “You said… Tengen is evil. We’ll jus’ kill ‘em tomorrow.”

“No,” she cries, alarmed. “That wouldn’t solve anything!”

“But that’s why you’re here,” he protests, turning enough to open one eye. “He broke a vow, so you’ll… uh… but you shouldn’t merge, I think you’ll… turn into a thumb.”

Dumbfounded, she stares at him. Gojo’s eyes close again.

“You’re the one that wanted to talk about this,” Yoshi says aloud, to no reply. She reaches over to shake his leg this time. “Gojo, look at me.”

He lets out a low whine, blindly grabbing to stop her shaking. “I got it, don’t worry,” he says, clasping her hand firmly. “I understand.”

“Stop saying that,” she sighs. “Just sleep this off, and I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” he agrees, drawing out the word.

Yoshi considers trying to get him onto a bed, or at least have him lay down on the couch properly. But Gojo is a grown man, she doesn’t need to coddle him. Even if he’s drunk and sort of vulnerable right now, and probably still incapable of using his technique—

No, he’ll be fine. No one knows his technique is off besides her.

She gets up from the couch, wiggling her hand out of his grip.

This, apparently, is what it takes to rouse him. Gojo inhales a deep breath and straightens up, blinking rapidly. “What? Are we going now?” He rolls his shoulders back, stretching. “Can’t we do it after we, uh, the baseball game?”

Just her luck, he’s completely incoherent. “We’re not doing anything,” Yoshi says sternly. “You need to be sober for this, so I’ll come back tomorrow to talk.”

He shakes his head mulishly, stretching out his arms now. “Don’t say that, that—“ He pauses to yawn. “That sounds like ya wanna break up. We didn’t even kiss, I mean we did, but you know… Yeah,” Gojo says plaintively, flopping onto the couch. “I’m tired.”

Yoshi sighs again. “Me too. I’m going to bed.”

“Where’re you going? It’s that way,” Gojo calls out as she moves to the front door. He’s pointing down his hallway.

“I’m going to my bed.” She stares back at him critically. He is not asking her to stay the night in his apartment.

Languidly, Gojo rolls himself fully onto his couch, legs stretching out across it. “Well, I’ll have to, hmm, kill you if you leave,” he points out, in the same tone of voice someone would use to comment on the weather. “Heh. You said treason-things.”

“No I didn’t,” Yoshi says, bemused.

“Yeah you did, you wanna… kill the thumb-head sorcerer.” Gojo seems to believe the barrier sorcerer looks like a thumb.

“You want to do that. I have other plans.”

“Well, you know…” Gojo trails off.

He doesn’t say anything more. Yoshi watches his chest begin to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. She scrubs at her face, exhausted and completely forgetting that she has makeup on. Then she stalks off in the direction of Gojo’s bedroom. She comes back with a pillow, and slides it under his head with far more care than he’ll ever notice. He’s fully clothed, so she doesn’t get him a blanket.

“I’ll come back in the morning,” Yoshi promises quietly.

—/—/—

Fed and watered by Isaiah, Wendy steps into Washington Square Park and looks for the chess tables. Mr. Newman isn’t hard to spot. He’s wearing a brown tweed jacket just like Isaiah said he would. He also resembles his nephew—the same broad nose and downturned eyes, everything except for his hair, which is gray and short while Isaiah wears braids. He looks right at home among the chess hustlers of the park.

Mr. Newman’s opponent gets up and leaves just as Wendy comes close enough to greet him.

He sits back in his chair with a pleased smile on his weathered face. His voice is soft and raspy as he asks, “Are you here for a game, Ms. Matherson?”

She’s sure that Isaiah hasn’t said a word to his uncle about her. “I am, Mr. Newman. But I need help. I’m not very good at it.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I love to teach. But in the end, it’s down to you and your decisions, if you want to win.”

“I know.” She takes a seat. “I just need some guidance. I can’t see the full picture. The whole board, I guess.”

Mr. Newman hums, plucking the pieces off the table and shaking them in one hand. “Well, let’s start by going over the players. Our most valuable piece is our king. He can move one square in any direction, which isn’t much. His value is in his mere existence on the board, not his power to move around. You must protect him, or you lose.” He gives her a pointed look. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Wendy chews on her lip. “Right. But it goes the other way, too. You win by going after the other king.”

“No. You win by forcing him out, exposing him to your forces.” He sets out more pieces, explaining how they move. Black pieces in front of Wendy, and white in front of Mr. Newman. “White always goes first,” he says.

“Really?” Wendy had been about to move a pawn. “So I’m a step behind?”

“Nah, it just means you didn’t make the first move.” He moves his pawn. “You didn’t instigate. Doesn’t mean you can’t win.”

“Oh. I always thought we’d provoked someone, actually,” she admits. “I thought it might be Tengen, at first, because of the failed merger.” Wendy moves her pawn out two spaces, to give her bishop space to move next. “But this whole thing seems like it’s been in the works for years and years.”

“Is that right? Well,” Mr. Newman continues casually, “There’s more than one way to play chess.”

She looks at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs. “There’s variants. A seasoned player, like me, might switch things up. Lemme show you,” he decides gleefully, swiping up his pieces at once. “I like Fischer’s Chess. You place your pieces at random. Let’s put our knights in the corner. Go on now, put yours across from mine.”

Wendy follows his lead in placing her pieces. “If we play like this, I really won’t know what to do next,” she comments.

“Ah, but your opponent’s in the same boat. Even a seasoned opponent can’t fall back on old habits with the board all mixed up. I think this is more your style, Ms. Matherson. I think this is how the game is going.”

“That’s… good?” Wendy says, not totally convinced. She moves a bishop across the board, aiming to threaten his knight. “But I still need to expose the king. I don’t know how to get him out.”

“Well, you’ll have to sacrifice some pieces—”

“I know, but,” Wendy says in a rush, moving a pawn to protect her queen. “But if I do it the wrong way, I might lose a piece for nothing.”

“That’s why you have to develop your other pieces,” he says easily, scratching at the grey stubble on his chin. “So they’re in a position to assist even if you lose control of the center. Or, in this case we’re all bunched up on the left…”

They make a few more moves, but Wendy can tell this game will be over soon once she loses her second rook. “I don’t like this version very much,” she admits. “It’s confusing.”

Mr. Newman chuckles, flashing crooked teeth at her. “You’re not as bad as you think. I can’t anticipate your moves when the pieces start out like this.”

“I’d appreciate it more if you could predict other people’s moves for me,” she says miserably.

“Now, that’s not what I’m here to do. You said you wanted to see the whole board,” he reminds her. “But maybe that’s wrong, huh? Maybe you’re just used to seeing the whole board, but it’s not possible this time.”

Wendy’s brow furrows in concern. She taps her foot on the floor as she thinks, and feels her anklet sliding against her skin. “But Mr. Newman, there is a chance for me to find out more. I can feel it. There’s something in Morioka, or someone, that can give me a clue.”

“You see an opening.” He begins rearranging the board again, playing both sides until the situation on the board reflects his words. Sort of. “Sometimes those are traps. Make a move, but only if you’re prepared to lose something in the process.”

Again, she’s supposed to sacrifice a piece. She huffs. This would be much easier if Mr. Newman could predict the future without cryptic chess terminology.

“Right, I have to prepare,” Wendy massages at her temple. “Prepare, by… developing my other pieces first? Jeez.” She leans back with a groan. “I can’t! No one can back me up. Nanami would just get in my way, Yuki isn’t even answering my calls. Oh, and stupid Miguel. He attacked Japan last year, I don’t know why he thought that would work out. And Yoshi—!”

Wendy looks at the queen on the chessboard. The most dynamic piece, the strongest player on the field.

“Your opponent is wary of the queen,” Mr. Newman concludes. “They’ll retreat. Besides, you can’t rely on her for everything.”

She nods, biting the inside of her cheek. “What I feel about Morioka… that dread, that means it’s probably a trap. But if I go in with too much, they’ll just slip away. They did that in Osterby.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to know where Osterby is,” Mr. Newman comments idly.

“No, that’s not important.” She rests her chin in one hand as she studies the chessboard again. “But Morioka is in Japan… You said something earlier about controlling the center,” Wendy muses. “But it’s more complicated than that, because the real game is so spread out. I think. I mean, my king’s out of danger for now. I don’t know where my opponent’s king is. Most of the action’s in Japan. Either my opponent is tucked away like my king, or… no. They’re in the action. Because that’s where Yoshi is, and they need to get rid of her before she makes a move.”

The situation doesn’t totally work as a chess metaphor, but Wendy doesn’t care.

Mr. Newman sets up another normal game, and Wendy plays it out with him in silence.

He captures her pawn, and she takes one in return. “Are you sure you’re considering all the pieces as they are?” he asks suddenly.

Wendy frowns.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re in the thick of it, Ms. Matherson. Consider the value of every piece.”

She stares at the board for a long moment.

“Oh, right,” Wendy says, feeling dumb.

She advances a pawn to the far end of the board and flips it upside down to indicate its changed status, promoting it to a queen. “I forgot about Gojo. He’s a huge threat, even if he isn’t in a position to help me. They need him gone, too.”

Folding her hands in her lap, Wendy stares at the board some more.

She thinks about the recent attack on Gojo’s school. Even though she doesn’t know all the details, she’s pretty sure the attack was a success in some way. They got something out of it, despite going up against Yoshi and Gojo. Not to mention, but they achieved something in Osterby too: they killed Andrea before Yoshi could get any information out of her. Yoshi’s careful about revealing her powers, but at this point, their opponent has adapted to both of them, avoiding direct confrontation.

“What are you thinking, Ms. Matherson?”

“I’m thinking that…this opponent knows we’re looking for the king. So when the king reveals himself, it’ll be for a trap,” she says thoughtfully. “A trap to get rid of the strongest player.”

“When, not if he’s revealed?”

“The king can’t hide forever.” Wendy feels certain of this. “We’re being set up for it. We need to suss him out before he moves.”

And she’s back to the problem of Morioka, and what she’s willing to sacrifice. Who else is on the board?

—/—/—/—

[Previous] [Next]

A/N: i am miserable alongside Wendy trying to make chess metaphors work. why did i choose this? i mean i know why, it’s because the chess hustlers of nyc are infamous and i wanted to include them. you should know that you can’t play for free, they’ll ask for a small donation if you want a lesson or a game. Anyway, I name-dropped a few more characters in this chapter! Yuki, a canon character you may recognize from the anime. Miguel, who is briefly features in the JJK 0 movie. And of course, Isaiah and Omar Newman, my sorcerer OCs from New York.

Some translations: querida - dear Yo también quería llorar - I also wanted to cry Kawaisō ni - Poor thing

[duckapus]

Magolor heads into his office after a few minutes of talking shop with Bob, “What a nice bunch of folks. Though I swear that Lily girl looked familiar…” he shrugs, “Eh, I’m sure it’ll come to me.”

With that, he starts looking through some paperwork. It’s mainly confirmations on the permits for his carnival (and on the bribe payments for the health inspector, of course), and a few supply delivery orders he needs to finalize, but one item stands out; an envelope with no return address and a picture of a rose with a thorny stem printed on it, no doubt containing a threatening note. He glares at it.

“I swear, those religious types have no patience. It’s nowhere near the deadline Anton gave me last time he showed up!” he sighs roughly and tosses it to the side before massaging his temples, “I have got to get out from under these guys…”

As he wallows in his frustration, he catches a glimpse of something in the far corner of the office, under a box. He floats over and pulls it out, revealing it to be a document of some kind.

“Huh, forgot I had this. Let’s see… ‘Bounty for Liliana Estrella, deliver to Rosen Stinger, mission details’…yada yada…’don’t damage vocal cords’…hm-hmmm…’Reward’-” he whistles, “man that’s a lot of zeroes.”

He’s started pacing without quite realizing it, “So that’s where I remembered her from. Well, if she’s worth that much to them, I’ll be able to clear my debt and make a profit in the meantime!” He starts rummaging through the room, running his hands along the walls, “Okay, where’d I hide that control panel…”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oblivious to Magolor’s machinations, the kids are having a blast. Those of them with powers were using them to out-cheat some rigged games, Franky had proven to be king of the claw machine, BJ seems bound and determined to clean out every concession stand in the area, Sage had decided to test out her new more life-like hologram by seeing if she could get as sick as everyone else on the rollercoaster, and Jubjub had somehow managed to break a test-your-strength machine and is now lugging around a wiggler plush toy(thankfully waterproof, Bob had checked) three times his size. Now the group is taking a break for lunch.

Bob’s sitting off to the side, for once content to keep his big mouth shut and just enjoy listening to the kids chatter excitedly with each other. Contrary to what Lily had thought before, he’d actually done the responsible thing and let their parents know what was going on before they came. To his surprise (and theirs, if his people reading skills were still good, which they’d have to be in his business) they’d all been perfectly fine with him looking after the kids. Karen had even said outright and with no hesitation that she trusted him with Cody, which had come as a shock to both parties.

A few years ago, heck, even a few months ago he wouldn’t have been anyone’s choice to look after a kid, probably wouldn’t have even agreed to unless he could profit from it somehow. He’d gone soft, he’d admit. Even go as far as to say he was proud of it. Not that he’d stop scamming people and living a degenerate’s life anytime soon, he was still himself after all, but he’d be perfectly fine keeping his act as clean as it currently was if it meant more moments like this.

Almost as if to spite that thought, Sage suddenly goes rigid and stares in shock into the distance, “Oh dear.”

This puts everyone on alert, and BJ puts his claw on his best friend’s shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

“Something is blocking my connection to the EggNet. And if I am interpreting this correctly, the jamming signal also seems to be outputting a copy of my “all is well” state, so Father will not be alerted of my absence.”

Cody growls nervously, “My phone doesn’t have a signal either.”

Bob’s eyes narrow and he stands up, blades not yet raised but still at the ready, “Alright kids, whatever’s about to happen, we stick together. Cody, Franky, Lily, that goes double for you since you don’t have an easy way to defend yourselves.”

The group all nods, some nervous and some determined, and then the intercom turns on.

“Hey everybody, this is your host Magolor! Due to circumstances well within my control, this carnival is being temporarily repurposed as a musician capturing labyrinth.”

Lily moves behind Lil Coding, “Oh, not again…”

“See, normally I wouldn’t get into the whole bounty hunting business. Bit too messy for my tastes. But, I’ve accumulated a rather sizable debt to some particularly nasty characters. Perhaps some of you have heard of the Rosen Stinger? Now, I was going to use the profits from this carnival to pay it off originally, but they’re…a little testy after the last time I saw them, and I’d rather get this done sooner rather than later. And as if in answer to my prayers, who should fall in my lap but the little songbird their boss has been obsessed with for the past year or so?

���It’s really nothing personal kiddo, but it’s you or me, and frankly I’d rather it not be me. See ya real soon!”

“YOU SON OF A-” Bob snarls and smacks a nearby garbage can so hard it wipes out a pretzel cart, then calms himself down, “Okay, same plan as before, but now staying with the group goes triple for Lily and we’re also gonna run like hell for the nearest exit.”

“Jub jub if no exit?”

“Then we’ll make one.”