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diushek · 2 days ago

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I love getting Shen Qingqiu pregnant (and it's funny that just today I've done it twice already), so... Shen Yuan who transmigrates into Shen Qingqiu, and in the midst of his medical check-up with Mu Qingfang about that whole qi deviation thing, Mu Qingfang hints that perhaps the qi deviation was due to using too much of his qi to pause his pregnancy.

Shen Qingqiu it's like: pardon??? Pregnancy?????

Sure enough, the System confirms: Shen Qingqiu's body is pregnant! And Mu Qingfang, falling into all that of a certain amnesia after the qi deviation, explains to him that he has a pregnancy in a very early stage that he never wanted to interrupt, but "the responsibilities around him, responsibilities that only grew" were too much to have a baby at that time. And he's been putting off his baby's growth with qi... for a long time.

Shen Qingqiu asks him very, very quickly how the hell he can keep doing that. No. He's not having a baby. He's just getting a new body. He just died. What the fuck. Thanks, but no thanks.

Of course, later on, with Without-a-cure, it is very difficult to continue diverting his qi to keep the baby hidden and not growing inside him. At this point, Shen Qingqiu does not terminate the pregnancy just because... Because he does not feel capable. Plus, he feels a little guilty; the original goods could have terminated that pregnancy if he had wanted to. What gave him, an impostor in a stolen body, the right to end a life that the original Shen Qingqiu was so jealously protecting? He had already taken one life. He would not take a second.

So even he does need more qi about it, and if he needs Mu Qingfang's external qi to hide it during the larger outbreaks of Without-a-cure, Shen Qingqiu decides that maybe he'll give the baby a chance to be born when he has to throw Binghe into the Abyss. The house will be empty by then, won't it? And will be sad. And painful. And he'll need a distraction.

One month before the IAC, Shen Qingqiu lets go of the qi seal and allows the baby finally to continue growing. It is strange to feel it, and even stranger to feel it grow. Mu Qingfang congratulates him on his decision, explains what symptoms he will have to deal with in the coming weeks, what tea is best to avoid, what herbs he should drink. Shen Qingqiu is tense, distant and somewhat nervous, fearing something dangerous or close to a qi deviation since he was not actively sealing the baby now. His body still has to get used to the enormous hormonal chaos that will gradually subside; Shen Qingqiu is resigned and hateful, but he simply decides that it will not be something that will keep him awake at night.

The IAC passes. The morning after Shen Qingqiu throws Binghe into the abyss is painful and filled with tears and the first signs of morning sickness. Unfortunate timing, as many other Peak Lords and Sect Leaders see him nearly faint and run off to vomit.

What Shen Qingqiu doesn't expect (or, knowing the reputation of the original Shen Qingqiu, should expect) are the rumors.

Shen Qingqiu is jealously protecting his small belly bump, hiding it before it is necessary to say it, but it is inevitable that it will be discovered. It's surprisingly less well received than he expected. His refusal to speak about what happened to Luo Binghe, his refusal to give him up for dead, his enormous sadness, her refusal to tell the identity of the baby's other father... Shen Qingqiu is hearing the rumors from his own disciples before Shang Qinghua and his spy nets of An Ding disciples bring him the news that the rumors have already spread.

Apparently, everyone believes that Shen Qingqiu was having an affair with his spoiled disciple Luo Binghe ("He even bet so much on him and his victory in the IAC!"), and when a beast killed his beloved disciple, Shen Qingqiu fell into a heartbreaking sadness from which he could only be freed by the fruit of his love that was now growing in his womb.

Sensitive, loud, chaotic. Shang Qinghua mocks him. Shen Qingqiu hits him with his fan and insults him. Living with the author is an unpleasant nuisance when Shang Qinghua confirms that he never wrote about Shen Qingqiu being pregnant, although he didn't actually write about things that later happened either. The world filling in the plot holes, he says, and Shen Qingqiu hates it.

Pregnancy is a painless process. Shen Qingqiu suffers through it like anyone else, but he has his good moments. He gets excited about the baby. Mu Qingfang confirms to him that its a boy. He lulls him to sleep when he wakes him up in the middle of the night with kicks. Even before he is born, he is already causing trouble; Shen Qingqiu finds himself loving this little boy very much and wishing, after all this time, to finally meet him.

The baby is born. If Shen Qingqiu was curious about the identity of the second father, nothing on the baby's face tells it; it is a sweet and cute baby identical to Shen Qingqiu, except for some undeniably big and beautiful eyes.

He also has his own character: he cries a lot, he only calms down in Shen Qingqiu's arms, he hates strangers coming close, he cries when someone else carries him, and enjoys when Shen Qingqiu sings to him. He is quickly loved and spoiled by the entire sect and his disciples.

Shen Qingqiu allows himself to forget that he will only have four years to live for this baby. Luo Binghe will return seeking revenge, and Shen Qingqiu does not plan to escape; as long as he allows the baby to live, and as long as Cang Qiong don't burn, he can hand himself over to Luo Binghe's revenge.

(Of course he has prepared sun-moon dew mushrooms. He's not an idiot. He also has enough legal scrolls that in case he dies, his baby will stay with Shang Qinghua and the anonymous brother Shang; Shang Qinghua will run away with his little one and they will meet in a village far away, where the "anonymous brother" lived. Shen Qingqiu would raise his son as an anonymous herbalist and they would live as simple NPCs without bothering anyone.)

Shen Qingqiu has his beloved little baby and a plan. It is a surprise to him when, one night, there is a knock on his door. His baby is just over a year and a half old, he stammers a few words, he learned the dangerous art of walking and running; so little time, so much domestic comfort, of course Shen Qingqiu does not expect disciples returning from the Endless Abyss directly to his doorstep.

Yet there he is. Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe who looks at him with an unfathomable expression, dirty in blood, with torn robes. He is unbearably handsome, tall and with a heavy black sword on his back.

Shen Qingqiu is frozen, only thinking about running away with his baby, when Luo Binghe just falls to his knees in front of him.

("Shizun, the rumors are strong, even in the Abyss. When did this horrible disciple disgrace his Shizun like this? Will Shizun be able to forgive this one for his mistakes? If the Abyss was the punishment Shizun intended for this disciple's behaviour, then this one understands. Please forgive this horrible beast for his audacity.")

Shen Qingqiu had already made peace with the rumors. He actually tried to ignore them most of the time. So, for Luo Binghe of all people to believe them ("As if there was any way to forget... that!!! It takes two to make a baby, and you and I didn't do it...!!!"), and even more so, to feel guilty about them… As if something in Luo Binghe's head made him believe that if he were to get infected by the sex pollen of some flower, he could really dishonor his Shizun like that! For that you first need to want it with this Shizun, silly boy!

Shen Qingqiu knows that he has no chance to lie to him, less in something like that. As soon as Luo Binghe finds out that his son has no Heavenly Demon blood in his veins, it will be risky and dangerous. He wants to tell him the truth. He has to tell him the truth.

... However, who can blame a man for having a little hope that everything will eventually work out? Perhaps he should show the baby first, his little offspring, to making him understand that its a harmless baby and does not deserve to suffer. But who could blame him for wanting Luo Binghe to not notice the truth and just accept it and stay as if he had never left?

... Probably the same people who might blame Shen Qingqiu when he presented his sleeping son to Luo Binghe (after letting him bathe and eat something decent), and just a caress on his baby's pale forehead with the careful claw of Luo Binghe caused a red zuiyin to appear.

What the fuck, WHAT THE FUCK?! Airplane, WHO THE FUCK DID SHEN QINGQIU HAVE AN AFFAIR WITH??! WHAT OTHER HEAVENLY DEMONS ARE THERE?! HOW FUCKING LONG HAS THAT BABY BEEN HIDING?!

...

(Somewhere beneath the mountain, Tianlang-jun sneezes. Ah. Strong-willed human cultivators of pretty faces and bad temper. They were always his weakness. One would think that someone like Tianlang-jun would learn after being abandoned by a wandering cultivator apprenticed to a demonic cultivator with a very bad reputation, but, it was not the art of love also having a broken heart?)

#svsss #scum villain self saving system #scumbag villain #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #svsss au #svsss ideas #mxtx svsss #bingqiu #mpreg #magic pregnancy #more or less #shang qinghua #luo binghe babytrapped himself #shen qingqiu is doing his best #sqq: I will have a pregnancy right after my beloved disciple was given up for dead #sqq: and I will behave like a widow in mourning while I insist that he is not dead #sqq: definitely nothing suspicious #sqh: ... bro #mqf could kick all the rumors out of the water with only one clinical record #unfortunately he won't do it on his own and sqq does not consider his reputation to be important enough to get the heavy cards out #i just think how funny tianlang-jun's genetics are #babies identical to their gestational moms but with those eyes #i guess it will be fun when those eyes are more evident on the child's cunning face and even mqf is like ?????

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potatomountain · 3 days ago

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C:IU Chapter 1

Act One: Chapter One

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Pairing: Poly 0t8 Ateez x fem reader AU: Mafia/detective Genre: 18+ poly romance, action Word Count: 3.5k Summary: "Not the same" Warnings: 18+, mentions of drunken sex, attempted kiss, triggers, panic attack, suggestive AN: Dividers and banner made by me @potatographics. Usual beta readers tagged in masterlist! No editing done!

There was a sense of nostalgia as your phone rang for the dozenth time in the last five minutes, knowing who it was before looking at the screen. With a smile you brought the screen to your ear, nearly avoiding one of the bystanders on the sidewalk. “Hi Ji.” “Finally you pick up! Where are you? You said you would be here ten minutes ago!”

You laughed at the frantic voice on the other side, having missed him. “The distance was a little more than I thought so I left later than I should. I’m walking up now, is he in?”

There was a moment of silence, some shuffling, and then a sigh. “He is and he’s more frantic than I am! He thinks you stood us up.” “Now why would I do that?” You mused, stepping up to the S.K Unit. “He knows I just love him.” The bitterness was still there, no matter what.

Even if you were the one who opted for this. Who asked for this meeting.

Well you did that out of bitterness too.

“I’m here and coming in.” You announced before hanging up and pushing into the familiar precinct.The familiar uniform at the desk, staring up at you in shock before they scrambled to greet you.

Now you didn’t think you looked that different. Was it the outfit?

You weren’t in your old fitted suits of black and white. Hair was colored and shorter, and you were wearing more makeup than you used to but that last bit was a habit by now. Was it the low cut top? The tight mini skirt or the lace stockings?

You’ve been wearing such things for some time now you hadn’t realized that your old unit would gawk at your appearance. And boy did they gawk.

The second you stepped back in the familiar room with lined desks, heels clicking to a stop with finality, your old unit looked in your direction. Most of them at least.

It was your old Captain who you stared down, capturing his gaze with your own and tilting your head curiously as his eyes skimmed down your length. He swallowed hard.

Good, rub it in his face what he lost.

Smiling sweetly, you finally turned your attention to Jisung and Changbin that flanked you, the latter swooping you up into a hug. “God Damn you look amazing!”

Playfully you swatted at his arm, smile turning coy. “Yeah? I don’t have as many restrictions with my current work so I’ve really branched out. Believe it or not, I do have a gun on me, and not my purse.” You gave a little twirl just to show off the fit some more.

“It’s in the boots right? Otherwise-” Jisung made a face, shaking his head before he pulled you into a hug. You leaned into him happily, truly having missed him since you had barely talked to him since the night of the club.

It had been so long, and so much had happened, you felt a little bad for ignoring them but it hadn’t been safe.

As if you had time anyways, even your sweet lovers complaining they didn't get to see you.

With a sigh you pulled away from them both, smiling and waving at the two youngest that were in the room, just to have one attached to your waist in the next second. “Hey there Innie. You doing well without me?”

“No.” He buried his face into the crook of your neck, showing his age as the youngest.

“It hasn’t been the same without you. Are you going to come back? It’s been months.” Seungmin chimes in from right behind Jeongin, an expression on his features you weren’t used to, like a kicked puppy.

“She’s not.” Chan finally barked out before you could answer, his tone enough to get the others to back away and clear the way for him to approach you. “You asked to meet. Business or pleasure?”

When he looked like he wanted to bend you over the nearest object and probably hate fuck you, you couldn’t help but play coy. “Business and personal. Can we talk in your office?”

With a sharp nod he turned on his heel and headed to his office, pushing the white sleeves up to his elbows, a sign he was agitated. Good.

Stepping into his familiar office he immediately shut the blinds, motioning for you to take a seat while he shut and locked the door. You opted to stand, a fact he didn’t mention as he moved over to his desk.

“Personal first, if you don’t mind.” You kept your tone cool and nonchalant, finding it funny how the tick in his jaw and flex of his muscles no longer excited you like they used to. How many times had you fucked yourself to the mental image of his fingers inside you, his arm flexing under your own hands as you held on?

Now you imagined another hand, another arm- many of those. Some that you could vividly remember how they felt on your skin, and others you could only think about. Perhaps you'd get the courage to make those fantasies a reality soon, not liking the anxiety that bubbled up in your chest when you often thought of physical contact in that way.

I'll get over it; you told yourself for the nth time in the last several months. The fact you were here now, facing down the man that broke your heart and had betrayed you to an extent you never thought you would recover from, was proof to you that you could get over that other thing.

“Personal as in about the last time I saw you?” Chan's tone was clipped and to the point, a sign he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “What is there to say?”

You relaxed your expression to try and appear as bored as possible. “Oh I don't know. How my best friend and the man I loved and admired sabotaged my career so they didn't have to make any personal sacrifices to their morals?” Venom still dripped in your words as your stare turned cold. “We can start there.”

“That's not the case-”

“Oh? Then what was it? I know I confessed, Chan. And then the next time you talked to me you were transferring me out. Doesn't matter why, you handled that like a fucking child.” You cut him off, sneering at the tick in his jaw.

He barked out your name, much like he used to when he felt like you were overstepping orders or infringing on his authority. You just rolled your eyes at him, locking your hips and placing a perfectly manicured hand on the curve. “I didn't have a choice in transferring you.”

“Funny, it sounded like you suggested the transfer. Or well, you listened to Minho about it.” You snapped out, the calm and collected air around you falling fast. “But by all means, tell me how you had no choice but to transfer me. No choice not to confess. No choice not to talk to me after I did. No choice but to break me into a million pieces by ignoring me and my feelings until it was convenient for you.”

Toe to toe with him now, he was no longer keeping a cool head either, anger twisting his handsome features into a sneer. “You don't know anything. I played by the rules as much as I could. But you never think about that do you? I didn't want to keep quiet! Fuck I couldn't keep my hands off of you when you were drunk and I hated myself for that!”

While he pushed his hair out of his face, you were flabbergasted, staring up with wide eyes. “What… what do you mean? What did you do, Chan?”

He turned away, clenching his jaw hard enough the veins on his neck bulged out. “You kissed me. Left a hickey. Felt so fucking good grinding up on me. I didn't fuck you. But I-” Mr. Stickler for clear consent and rules couldn't meet your eyes as he admitted, to him, his greatest sin. “You tasted so good, Trouble. Fuck I can still picture you coming on my tongue- on my fingers. The sounds you made, the way you begged-” He lifted his gaze to yours, a heat there you were unfamiliar with.

One step closer, and you took one back. You would have found his admission hot before, the idea you had such an effect on him that he broke his own rule, but that was before.

Before that red wolf.

You told yourself this was beforehand and it wasn't the first time you had done such things drunk, so why did it matter.

It mattered when your name fell from his lips like a heated plea. When he reached out and grabbed your hip, pulling you flush against him. It mattered when he leaned in as if to kiss you, his eyes on your lips. “Is it really impossible to go that route?”

Panic welled in your chest at how close he was. You didn't want him to touch you- you didn't want to be touched.

It was the sting of your palm that brought you back to your senses, a red mark clear on Chan's cheek as you were now several feet away from him, back against the door and breathing a bit erratic.

He didn't move aside from glancing at you. You could see the pain in his gaze, the confusion. Perhaps now he would finally realize how much he had screwed up.

“This was a mistake.” The thought of sticking around, alone in this office, had your chest tightening more by the second. Fumbling with the door, you were tripping over your feet to get out faster.

A chorus of your name echoed around you, different levels of concern and panic. You would have run right out if not for Chan grabbing your wrist. You struggled, turning to smack him again.

Jisung swooped in for the figurative rescue, pulling Chan off you and stopping your hand from connecting again with his Captain's jaw. “Hey hey, let's talk about this.”

“I'm trying.” Chan hissed out, the tick in his jaw back. “Why did you-”

“You touched me.” You cut him off, short breaths had your chest heaving. “You don't have the right any more Chan. I told you, you lost me. I wanted to make it clear what you fucking did is unforgivable, but I wanted to work past it so that we can work together. Because despite you being an entitled, self-absorbed, goody-two-shoes asshole… you and this unit are good at your fucking jobs.”

Shaking off Jisung's hold, you stepped back, surprised to see the two youngest flanking you and stare down Chan. Seungmin even put an arm in front of you almost protectively, another thing you did not expect. They were the last two to join and you had a friendly working relationship with them but you weren't as close as you were with Jisung or Hyunjin.

Where was the latter? And Minho? And Felix? Two of those you wanted to see more than anything.

“She has a point, Captain. about you being a self-absorbed asshole that is.” Seungmin drawled it out so easily, sparing you a concerned glance. “You don't talk to us. You make decisions without explanations, ones that affect us all. We lost the vote to keep her here, but you never told us she didn't know about it. You told us there wasn't much of a chance otherwise. It was her or us.”

“Even I regret my vote.” Changbin added on, stepping up to his Captain, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We've been a mess since she left. Hyunjin acted out until you had to suspend him. Felix has been like a shell of his former self. Minho is too busy talking to the higher ups and moving between other precincts. We haven't met our quota in months-”

“I get it.” Dejectedly, Chan's whole demeanor fell. “I fucked up.”

Some of the tension slipped out of the room then, but you were still far too tense, stepping back. “You clearly have shit to figure out. Ji, let me know when this unit is level headed for a job.” The shaking of your words gave way to your panic, but you didn't stick around to let them poke at it.

Jeongin walked you out however, silent as he fell into step next to you. You didn't protest, mostly because he didn't ask any questions. He was there as you signed yourself out and walked out the front door, only pausing when you did.

The last thing you expected stepping out of the S.K Precinct was the tall, lanky man holding a bundle of your favorite flowers in his hand, pacing as if he was nervous. “Mingi?”

His head shot up, those boba eyes you adored brimming with concern, brows pushed together even deeper at the sight of the man next to you. “Princess?”

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you stepped closer, but Jeongin was right there. “You know him?”

“He's my boyfriend.” You replied without a second thought, chest tight with emotion that was reflected on Mingi's features. The way his eyes widened a tad more, brows shooting up at your admission, and the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his full lips.

Recognition flashed across Jeongin’s own sharp fox-like features. “The one who hit Chan?”

“Yep. What are you doing here baby?” You stepped up to him, glancing down at the flowers with a silent question.

He handed them over to you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The way you stiffened wasn't lost on him, but he didn't address it. “I heard you were coming to see that fuck face so I came to pick you up. I got her from here.” Mingi nodded over at Jeongin, effectively dismissing him.

He hesitated a moment before turning on his heel. “Alright just- don't be afraid to reach out. We don't stand with Chan on this.” He was back inside the next moment.

Alone with Mingi, the flowers now in your hand, he smiled down at you but it was still a little tense. “Boyfriend? Really?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you instead buried your nose in the flowers. “Do you really want to question that after you brought me flowers?”

“No… you're right. Let me take you home then?” He asked, moving his arm around you but not touching. He must be able to tell how on edge you were.

You were trying to forget.

“Who says I didn't drive?” You retorted, automatically defensive from his care. It made you feel weak, like you were fragile. You knew that wasn't their intent, what they thought; you knew they were just respecting your triggers. Yet it pissed you off anyways.

“The fact you lack a license, Princess. Now for my own piece of mind I'd like to take you home.”

You hated how easily he calmed your thoughts, proving he didn't think you were fragile but he needed it. “Fine- lead the way.” With a resigned huff you let him lead.

Moments later you were in the passenger seat of his car, much like Wooyoung's, it looked a bit rundown on the outside but had a slick, luxurious interior. “Are these your undercover cars or something?”

“Yeah. I'll have to show you my baby though. She purrs like a kitten, made the modifications myself.” He slipped into the driver seat with ease, chair pushed back and one hand on the wheel. “Buckle up Princess.” Was the only warning you had before he was slipping into traffic with a harsh swerve.

It didn't surprise you that he was a car guy, at times taking notes of black stains on his fingertips that would last a few days. You never asked, mostly because it was in passing. You also weren't surprised he was a reckless driver.

What did surprise you was when you realized he was not heading downtown to the Pink Boa apartments you had been staying in the last few months. “Mingi? I thought you were taking me home?”

“Yeah, back to Captain's place.”

“That's not home.” You protested, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He glanced over at you incredulously. “Of course it is. It’s home for all Pirates.”

The surety of his words had you stumped, so instead of answering you glanced down at the flowers again.

Right after they officially accepted you into the Pirates, you demanded to go to work. You had reached out to Haru and she set you up with one of the apartments she kept her girls in. Your legal address was still next to Mingi, this was just considered a burner apartment, one that you didn't need to stay in but you did anyways.

Haru had been right about a woman's touch after such incidents, burying yourself into work to also keep her from probing. Were you running from what happened? Ignoring It? Yes.

It wasn't because it happened, but you hated the way it changed you. Your desire for the others was still strong, but the moment you thought of them touching you, your mind would slip. The creepy drunk men hitting on you? Also making your skin crawl.

Your ability to do your job was affected. Your relationship was strained. You felt… less.

So you pushed through it, pretending you didn't break down alone in that apartment. Pretending Yeosang didn't see any of it. You pretended the others didn't have a reason to be worried. Pretended you couldn't see Wooyoung or San because of work, despite living in the same building as them.

Mind racing with anxiety, wondering just how you were going to face them, you didn't realize the two of you were already pulling into a garage under the stone and metal building on the river that was home to your Captain and his lover's.

Your lovers.

It had been a little over three months since you had been here, avoiding meeting them in person as much as possible. And when you saw them, physicality was out of the question. Not that it wasn't comforting when San rubbed your back or Wooyoung held your hand, but you would always find yourself guilty that this was all you could handle.

Mingi getting out of the car and rushing around to open the door for you gave you little time to prepare. Would you ever be?

Hesitantly, you took his hand, trying to keep yours steady. Mingi once more didn't say anything, but there was pain in his eyes and his jaw clenched.

It hurt that your pain hurt them, a concept you were so unfamiliar with. Your pain is something they didn't like to see. They feel hurt with you, they share your anger and sadness.

It made you want to run.

“Please don't ask Mingi.” You knew he wouldn't, but you still pleaded with him.

His gaze shot up to meet yours, not even hiding the depth of his pain. His full lips fell open repeatedly, gaping like a fish as he scrambled for words. “Before… before we go in…”

You tensed up unintentionally, which resulted in a choked groan falling from Mingi's lips.

“Fuck Princess- before we go in… can you please not look like I'm walking you to the guillotine or something? If it helps, this is about work okay?”

Averting your eyes, you moved past him with a heavy breath. “I'm sorry. I'm trying. I'm really trying Mingi.”

“Did he do something? That Chan fucker? If so I'll drive right back there and break his fucking neck you just say the word Princess.” He followed you, the door shutting behind him as you both made your way to the stairs.

“He… he tried to kiss me. And I just-”

“He what?” Mingi stepped in front of you with a stormy expression. “Fuck- Princess. Then we can take a minute. Let's sit on the steps. I can hold you if-”

“Please.” The word was out before you could stop yourself. Before the guilt could eat you up. “Just for a minute.”

As he set the flowers aside he sat on the stairs and pulled you onto his lap sideways. Feeling his shaky breath on your neck oddly calmed your nerves. Even as you replayed the events of the precinct over and over until it no longer spiked your anxiety, he held you and kept you calm.

It brought you a twisted sense of pride to know that Chan was just as fucked up as you were right now. S.K was in tatters, but so were you. Maybe taking a page out of his book and being an entitled and self-absorbed asshole would help.

Then you could seek comfort in Mingi's embrace without the soul crushing guilt of the pain you caused him.

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#pirateeznet #lapydiariesnet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez fanfiction #C:IU #mafia au #mafia ateez #detective ateez #mingi x reader #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n

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aquanutart · 2 days ago

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I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

#pokemon #pokemon blue #kanto #gen 1 #long post #text post #i know long format blog posts aren't standard here but i don't know where else to put this #i'm so happy i've had tears in my eyes. i had the BEST pokemon day i could have imagined #some people may be surprised i didn't just have a team of water or grass types but it was my first pokemon game and i wanted to be balanced #(also.. i'm not actually even sure i knew how to swim yet at that age?! i think i learned when i was 4-5)#BLASTOISE!!! my original blastoise my favorite i'm so happy to see him again!!! ;;---;;#i started training a drowzee because i needed to put pokemon to sleep for catching and hypno ended up just being so strong i got so attache #kitty helped me earn money to buy pokeballs with pay day #i always thought vulpix was incredibly cute and ninetales was awesomely beautiful #it was a tradition for me to have a haunter in every game because gengar is just so cool and cute (though i never had anyone to trade with)#and i had a pikachu like red and yellow (but unlike theirs mine evolved!)#sorry about the overexposed 'screenshots' it actually takes a frustratingly long time to edit them into anything presentable even like this #but there's something nostalgic to me about seeing it on an actual game boy (color) instead of only the screen itself

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sylusonychinus · 1 day ago

Text

Episode Eleven : The Great Bedroom Debacle

Series Masterlist

Caleb had never moved this fast in his life.

As soon as they stepped into the apartment, he grabbed Reader’s wrist and pulled her straight into his room—soon to be their room, at least for the next hour or so.

“Okay, we need to make this look real,” he said, glancing around the perfectly organized space. His suitcase was neatly tucked away, his shoes lined up against the wall, and not a single trace of Reader anywhere.

Meanwhile, Reader was staring at the room like she was calculating a battle strategy. “Alright, first we need to make a mess.”

“…What?” Caleb turned to her, baffled.

“Couples don’t keep their rooms this neat,” she pointed out. “There needs to be some chaos. Like—like clothes! Yeah, we need clothes everywhere.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “So your plan is… to trash my room?”

Reader had already started grabbing her clothes from the laundry basket in the hallway, tossing a hoodie onto the bed. Caleb barely dodged a pair of socks.

“This is not how normal people live—”

“Shut up and help me!”

Caleb groaned but reluctantly grabbed a spare sweater and threw it on the chair. “There. Chaos.”

Reader gave him a deadpan look. “You call that chaos?”

He huffed. “I’m a very neat person, okay? Unlike you—”

His words were cut short when he noticed something on the bed.

A mountain of plushies.

Caleb blinked. “What… the hell is this?”

Reader turned around, already hugging a large stuffed cat. “Oh, those? My emotional support plushies.”

Caleb stared at the ridiculous amount of stuffed animals taking up nearly half the bed. “How do you even sleep in here?”

“I make space.”

“For who? The plushies?! There’s no room for a human!” Caleb dramatically gestured to the bed, looking personally offended. “This one has a hat! Why does a stuffed animal need a hat?!”

Reader clutched the plushie protectively. “Sir Whiskers needs his hat.”

“Oh my god.”

Caleb sighed, rubbing his temples. This wasn’t just a marriage of convenience—this was a test of his patience.

He started shoving some of the plushies aside, only for Reader to snatch them back, placing them neatly against the pillows.

“We need to compromise,” she said firmly.

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “Fine. One plushie stays.”

Reader gasped in horror. “One?!”

“You don’t need a whole army, [Reader]!”

After a dramatic standoff and a few exchanged threats, they finally settled on three plushies—one of which had mysteriously returned to the bed after Caleb tossed it to the floor. He pretended not to notice.

Just as they were barely finishing up, the doorbell rang.

Caleb and Reader froze.

Showtime.

—

Caleb’s mother, Evelyn Xia, stood at the door with a warm smile, and right beside her was Reader’s mother, holding a bag full of food.

“You two are finally home together at the same time!” Evelyn beamed as she stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the apartment.

Reader’s mother, on the other hand, sighed. “You two didn’t even tell me you were living separately until now.”

Reader cleared her throat, forcing a smile. “Ahaha�� surprise?”

Evelyn walked past them, her gaze flickering to the hallway. “So, where’s your room?”

Caleb and Reader immediately exchanged a silent look of panic before Caleb gestured toward his room.

“Right here.”

Both mothers stepped inside.

Caleb held his breath.

Reader’s mother squinted at the bed. “Why are there so many stuffed animals?”

Caleb shot Reader a look.

Reader smiled innocently. “Caleb loves them.”

Caleb wanted to scream.

Evelyn let out a hum of approval. “Well, at least it looks like a shared space. Though, Caleb, you really need to let go of some of these plushies.”

Caleb choked. Reader grinned.

After a few more minutes of talking and looking around, their mothers finally placed the food on the table.

“We won’t stay long,” Evelyn said. “I just wanted to check up on you two and make sure everything is going well.”

Reader’s mother nodded. “And to remind you both to take care of each other.”

After a few more pleasantries, the two women finally left, leaving Caleb and Reader standing in the middle of their now-shared room.

The moment the door shut, Caleb exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “That was too close.”

Reader flopped onto the bed. “At least they bought it.”

Silence filled the room before Caleb turned toward her, his expression unreadable.

“…So,” he started, stepping closer.

Reader blinked. “So?”

Caleb leaned against the edge of the bed, staring down at her. “When are you going to be comfortable enough for me to actually stay in my bed?”

Reader sat up slightly. “H-Huh?”

“You know,” Caleb continued, voice casual, but there was something teasing in his tone. “So we don’t have to keep doing this every time someone comes over.”

Reader’s face turned slightly pink. “I—I mean, I just thought you liked the guest room—”

“I don’t.”

She swallowed. “Oh.”

Caleb smirked. “So?”

Reader hesitated before finally huffing, crossing her arms. “Fine. You can stay here.”

His smirk widened. “Oh? Did I hear that right?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

Caleb laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright.”

That night, for the first time since they got married, Caleb and Reader actually shared a bed.

It was late—far past the time Caleb usually fell asleep—but tonight, sleep just wouldn’t come.

Lying on his side, he turned to face Reader, watching as she breathed softly, completely lost in sleep. The dim glow of the city lights outside cast a gentle glow over her face, making her look oddly peaceful.

But then his gaze dropped to the plushie in her arms.

A ridiculous apple-shaped plushie.

Caleb let out a quiet sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course.

Rolling his eyes, he reached over and carefully pried the plushie from her grasp. She didn’t even stir.

Without a second thought, he tossed it off the bed.

Good riddance.

Just as he was about to relax, Reader suddenly shifted.

Caleb stiffened.

She blindly reached out, still deep in sleep, her fingers patting around in search of something.

Her brows furrowed. “Mmm… where’d you go…?”

Caleb frowned, about to push her away—until she found something.

Him.

Reader’s arms wrapped around his torso, hugging him close.

Caleb froze.

“…There you are, Colonel Apple…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Caleb stared at her, wide-eyed.

Colonel. Apple.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, at a complete loss for words.

She had mistaken him for the damn plushie.

A long sigh escaped him. He considered prying her off, but the way she nuzzled closer made something inside his chest tighten—something warm, unfamiliar.

“…You’re impossible,” he muttered under his breath.

Carefully, he adjusted his position, letting her rest against him properly. He pulled the blanket over them both, his arms instinctively wrapping around her small frame.

She let out a content sigh, nestling even further into his warmth.

Caleb lay there, staring at the ceiling for a moment before shutting his eyes.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Maybe… just maybe… he could get used to this.

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @kithyyy @mcdepressed290 @nezuswritingdesk @elegantdeerlady @yuuuumii @duhgurl @lumieresdreams @bidisasterforevermore @i-messed-up-big-time

@that-one-scoundrel @justpassingdontworry @ansbobcar @nagireos @auriuswolve @bookworm1999 @sickleddreamer @heeknow @zaynessbeloved

#caleb x you #caleb x reader #calebxreader #caleb x mc #caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb lads #caleb xia #lnds

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very-not-emo · 6 hours ago

Text

LONG ASS RANT ABOUT WHY I DIDNT LIKE TOTK + TIMELINE STUFF

"mediocre gameplay" for botw makes my eye twitch a bit but i have no problem with totk's gameplay beyond it barely adding anything new. it's not a bad game but it is a bad botw 2. the main thing i thought while i was playing it was "this would be so much better if i hadn't played botw" which makes me think it's a bad sequel

botw did so many new things for zelda series. gameplay wise you got weapon variety, a whole new set of combat mechanics, a giant ass map, a physics engine, all the stamina stuff, cooking, i could go on and on. story wise you got eldritch ganon (gave me some absolutely world ending brain worms when i was 11 that i still have and could yap about for hours), real human being zelda, in-universe exploration of link being stoic, champions with notably different, charming, believable personalities, npcs that behave like they have lives outside of the quests they give you, a generally immersive feeling universe to match the big open world

totk gave us... a build mechanic that i wasn't that into, fuse (which fucks btw one of the best things they added), underground map that was just a mirror of the surface with almost nothing interesting in it, caves (cool but felt like dlc), new armor and items (felt like dlc), just not innovating much. and the story had ganon do the same exact shit he did in oot with a different coat of paint, rauru/sonia/mineru were boring one-dimensional plot drivers, phantom zelda was kinda cool but that wasnt nearly enough to carry, the "zelda is a dragon" thing was cool i guess but it makes no sense given how time travel works in zelda (zelda going back in time should have made a new timeline, but link is looking for zelda, which means it's the same link whose zelda disappeared, even tho he lives in a time where zelda has been a dragon for 10000 years already???)

which leads into my next point that there's no continuity between totk and botw at all. what happened to the sheikah tech. i know that nintendo guy said it had "served its purpose" but why does nobody even mention "hey remember when all of our tech teleported away never to be seen again?" also they still have a little bit which means it wasn't like, hard-coded into the materials to disappear when calamity ganon was gone either. also, ganon was still there, so unless they linked it to that specific form of ganon it would have stayed to help fight ganondorf, also what the fuck is up with ganondorf, why did nintendo retcon "his transformation into malice created the horror you see now" into "that one was fake and the real one was underground lololol" in literally the next game that's so wimpy. also why did link instantly go back to being a "stoic sigma badass" if he only did that cuz of pressure and he had years to unwind and be a person again?

also when is "the past" in this game supposed to be? it was nothing like skyward sword, unless the zonai just fucking showed up sometimes after the game ended to establish hyrule. but that means totk ganondorf would have been alive, in stasis under the castle, AT THE SAME TIME as oot ganondorf was alive, which is not how reincarnation works, which means the only timeline of events that makes sense is: every pre botw zelda game happens -> hyrule is destroyed -> an indeterminate amount of time passes -> new hyrule is founded by rauru and sonia -> sheikah tech is invented -> 10000 years before botw -> botw -> totk

i will admit that the only zelda games i've played are oot, tp, ww, ss, botw, and totk, and i played ww and ss one (1) time when i was about 13 and remember jack shit about what happens in them. but i do know about the timeline, and it doesn't help me understand what they were trying to do with totk in the slightest. and i don't think fan timeline theories should be mandatory just to justify what doesn't make sense in the games themselves. you shouldn't have to do mental gymnastics on nintendo's own lore for them, they should have written totk to not actively complicate and negate everything they've ever done with it in the past

also it's just not compelling. idk what it is but the story of totk just felt uninspired to me. magic rock. special guys who you need on your team to beat ganon (they all act basically the same). unquestionably good boring ass king and queen who ganon betrays (blatant copy of oot). link zelda and ganon play their roles completely straight despite ganon not being the same guy (all the old zeldas had one incarnation of ganon, it makes sense he would be the same cuz he literally is the same person) and it having been tens of thousands of years. also can we PLEASE have a zelda game that isn't about time travel we just had aoc please

botw was trying to distance itself from all that, they were actively trying to innovate and THEY SUCCEEDED. they said what timeline it's in doesn't matter cuz it's so far in the future. the king was a conflicted character who knew what it would cost if they failed but still wanted his daughter to be happy. zelda was an insecure teenager trying to live up to the monumental stakes that rested on her. ganon was this ancient abomination who had been completely degraded by the millennia of hatred and failure. even link had some interesting tidbits.

it's the change in creative direction at the expense of everything else including continuity that really bothers me. botw did something new, didn't shy away from being dark and metal at times, tried to flesh out these characters in a modern twist and it felt so fresh and compelling. totk went the safe route and it was boring as fuck and had no emotional appeal. even zelda herself in totk didn't really have character. she's just a curious hero who loves link. she had no arc

MY IDEA OF BOTW 2

DISCLAIMER: yes i want things to make sense in lore but i am a giant metalhead and rule of cool enjoyer at heart so i am willing to make sacrifices if the results would fuck hard enough. we can have a little violating the lore as a treat. don't kill me if i say something that's disprovable. also if you call me a cringe edgy deviantart kid i will rapidly approach your location

gameplay first. i thought most of the game would take place underground with an entirely new map that was just as dense and varied and interesting as the surface. this would have hard carried tbh a new map with that dim lighting old ruins forbidden magic aesthetic would have fucking ruled. think of how many different cave aesthetics they could have drawn on for different areas. think of what kind of npcs could have been there. remember astor's cult from aoc? remember how the carvings on the walls in the first trailer could have been anybody? also i was hoping for more combat updates. imagine if they added different mechanics for light vs heavy or poleaxes or dual wielding or brought back hidden skills or

at the time i didn't really have one set idea of what the plot would be (i start making one later in this post dw) but i had ideas and a general vibe. and that vibe was dark and maybe (hopefully) surreal. i was ready for some twilight princess cutscene shit. more in the vein of spider ganon than demise. i wanted some real fucked up and metal zelda game and everything was lining up for this to be it. botw said fuck it we ball and went for it and i wanted botw 2 to take it further

i really thought they were going to follow the malice thing through. imo that was the most important lore change they made in botw except maybe the tech, they introduced this cosmic force of pure hate that had this ambiguous relationship with ganon as a consciousness. i never got the vibe that he created it, more like it was just part of this universe and he was a vessel for it. it completely possessed and destroyed him but it made him powerful but it's unclear how much of a choice that was for him. it just has this conflicting intrigue that's begging to be explored. i wanted them to really get into how it works and what it can do to people in some of the side quests and lore boxes. cuz emotion based magic? the descent into madness? reliance on spite and rage to keep you alive when all else has failed? hidden cosmic horror that lurks within us all? that is my shit. THAT IS MY SHIT and yes i know 10 year olds will play these games but my brain worms need feeding. we've had a t rated zelda before. c'mon man

so i really didn't want to give up the idea that calamity ganon was this era's ganondorf reincarnation, but i still had faith they could make it work with the corpse. we don't know who that guy is or how long he's been there, we just know that "he kinda looks like ganondorf". so he could either be the corpse of a ganondorf from before the one that became calamity ganon, OR

he was a regular male gerudo who was not ganondorf. he was born between the battle 10000 years ago and the battle 100 years ago and wrongfully killed under suspicion of being the prophesized return of the calamity. "that's not ganondorf" could have been a great twist

this is how he died and nobody ever moved his body from this spot. when this trailer came out we had no idea whose hand that was. he was killed by someone who was much more powerful than him, who had him cornered in a fuckoff nowhere passageway buried underground. the hand wasn't guaranteed to be good. the game could have kept it mysterious for as long as it wanted, it could have never explained it at all. maybe it belonged to some overzealous warrior who thought they were the link to his ganon, or maybe it was a king or leader figure but one who was flawed.

but imagine this man's rage when he died. this already rare, different, probably outcast person was being accused of being evil incarnate through no fault of his own, the witch hunters were after him, he tried to escape and he failed. it would have been enough to become residual, and when ganon died where did the malice he brought into this world have to go?

i had this strong idea from the first time i watched the botw 2 trailer that you wouldn't be walking into the corpse room in the intro. that would have been about halfway through to kick off the climactic final act of the game. the malice isn't coming from the corpse, it's pouring itself into him to resurrect him. malice isn't sentient itself but it does have a "will" if that makes sense? it was drawn to him cuz he died under such uniquely unfair circumstances with such strong hatred for the world that never gave him a chance. but since he's dead there's nothing left of his actual consciousness anymore. this guy revived with the same malice eyes we saw in the goop in botw. we had never seen that on a person before when this trailer came out. the most important thing is that this is not him anymore. this is malice given form in a human body. and in this game malice would have been built up in the background before this. he wouldn't speak (at least not coherently), he would fight like one of those unhinged souls bosses, and you would dig up the lore of how the guy died and who he was before independently of the main quests. they could even do one of those bittersweet zelda endings where they realize like, it's possible to overcome for a time but malice is something we all have to either fight forever or let in yk?

technically there's no ganon here. ganon died in botw and has yet to reincarnate. but ironically the corpse guy took on the role of evil incarnate after death exactly because he wasn't ganon and was forced to be by the "heroes". and we finally get to see malice directly. now i know nintendo would never do something like this but in the wake of botw when they dropped that trailer i had hope that they might. and it didn't have to be this, or anything specific really, as long as they got the vibe right. and they did the exact opposite.

i miss botw 2. like we have totk but i miss the vision of botw 2 i created in my head from the first trailer (and second a little bit but i was kinda like "wheres the glowy cave" at that one). zelda game that takes place mostly underground where link is corrupted by malice and zelda actively does something during the game and isnt yet again a plot device you rarely interact with. and maybe ganondorf being well written and a real character. and the ui didnt get changed for literally no fucking reason. and we had more weapon types. and a darker story like that guy promised. and a new map that wasnt empty and predictable. imagine what we could have had

#its 4 am wtf is wrong with me #i gotta stop yapping and post this #im crashing out and not even realizing it #fml

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mannequinreligi0n · 22 hours ago

Text

The Lamb

breaking and entering? check. feeding a vampire? check.

pairing: vampire!vergil x reader (gn)

wc: 1700

warnings: blood, blood consumption (duh)

notes: i saw a twilight edit on my fyp and immediately wrote this. vampire vergil feeds from me every night and sleeps in my closet. also i loved that i got to incorporate the lamb by william blake in this, since that’s my fav poem of his heeheeeheeheehehehhe

links: ao3

In the outskirts of the city, the Sparda Estate loomed like a shadow atop a hill, the scent of iron rot and myths of inhuman creatures warding off even the bravest of trespassers. Confusing foolishness for bravery, you climb up the rocky facade to the withered mansion, in hopes of scoping out the home for its secrets. The home had been abandoned for decades after the fire, but as you approached the brute, coppered gates, you could feel eyes on you. Whether they were literal eyes or just ghosts of memory past was unsure, but you persisted, pushing open the gate.

Though you had faced demons before, vampires were believed to be either extinct or in hiding, as the last one executed publicly was nearly 40 years ago. Rumors circulated town that one occupied the old Sparda Mansion, feeding on anyone who dared to enter. The rumors were mostly stories to scare children away from it, though some swore they would see a shadow lurking behind windows late in the night.

Unlocked, the heavy front door screams as it opens into the decrepit home, dust and cobwebs blanketing the oak staircase and the many antiquities on display. Your footsteps echo throughout the empty foyer, the flooring moaning under the weight of your boots. Everything seemed untouched. No graffiti, no broken vases - just the remnants of scorch marks from the devastating fire and what had survived. But, that was the problem. It was preserved, captured and frozen in time. Even with the sign of age and neglect, the floor was swept clean of debris, heirlooms were upright and neatly placed. It made unease settle in your stomach, and it only worsened when you approached a wall beside the wooden stairs.

There was wood filler smoothed over a depression in the wall, like it had been recently patched.

Someone was here - is here.

Extending a finger out, you swipe a finger along the fix, the wet glue leaving behind a sticky residue. Perplexed, you start to retract your hand from the wall when a pillowy voice waterfalls down from the balcony of the second floor, making you freeze in place.

“If you touch the binding, it will not dry properly, little lamb.”

Garnering courage, you start to turn to locate the voice above, only to be greeted with the source a foot away, the tall, pale man standing at the foot of the stairs. You jump from surprise and scamper away, back hitting the wall as you study the man with terrified eyes. He looked human, but there was a ghastly aura to him, dread chilling your bones. With skin so pale it blended into his hair, he looked like a ghost. Even as he stepped closer to you, you could’ve swore he was floating with how graceful every movement was. It wasn’t until he laughed at your blatant fear that you caught sight of the pointed canines in his mouth.

“Wh-..who are you?…What are you?” You stumble out, hands grasping at the frayed wallpaper behind you as he stalks closer, his satin laughter still chiming in your ears.

“What am I?” he laughs again, cocking his head to the left, strands of moonlight hair falling out of place. “‘Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life and bid thee feed?’”

You knew you should flee, should push him away. But even with his threatening presence, there was a deep loneliness to the blues of his irises, making you remain in place. He stretches out a cold, slender finger and brushes a knuckle along the side of your face, steel eyes dedicated to your features.

“‘I a child,…and thou a lamb,’” he murmurs, breath fanning across your skin. There’s a predatory gleam to his eyes, a deep-rooted hunger that makes your skin crawl. As beautiful as he was, the feeling that you were a meal sobered you out of his trance.

Fight or flight kicking in, you shove his hand away and try to run past him, only for a quick hand to snatch your wrist and yank you back like a doll. The strength of the pull makes your body jerk and stumble back, tripping over yourself and crashing into a nearby table, a porcelain figure shattering and slicing into the flesh of your arm. You lie on the ground with a groan, head woozy and blood trickling down to the floor.

“Have you no manners?! You trespass into my home and then attempt to leave without stating your business? Humans are such infuriating things!” the man grumbles to himself as he paces a few feet away from you, kicking away porcelain shards. “And the mess you’ve made! How shall I replace something from 1897? Hmm?”

“…..your ‘home’?” you blink up at him with a puzzled expression, eyes still unfocused from hitting your head.

“Yes, my home, you idiot,” he scoffs loudly and points up at a family portrait hanging above the stairwell. “Is that not me at my mother’s side?”

Your eyes follow his hand up to the painting, squinting to focus your vision. The portrait had been damaged in the fire, but you could still make out most of the faces. You recognized the photo from old articles about the fire, remembering how they listed off the ‘deceased’ family members. Two twin boys stood beside their father and in front of their mother, her hand protectively over the shoulder of one of the twins.

“Vergil,” you recall quietly, studying the sharp nose and hooded eyes of the child that mimicked the man before you. Your gaze flickers back to him, noting the distance between him and your collapsed form. “But everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Not dead, no…” Vergil shakes his head, his mask slipping for a moment to reveal the pain he harbored from past memories. His nose twitches and his expression hardens once more, brows furrowing as he glances down to the gash on your forearm. You notice his fingers clench around the fabric of his pants, like he’s holding himself back. Remembering the fangs shrouded by his upper lip, you look down at the blood on your arm before back up to him.

“You’re hungry,” you state, the realization on your face. Despite your better judgement and literally every legend you’ve ever heard about vampires, you decide maybe offering him yourself wouldn’t be a bad idea. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it already - right?

“I am not,” Vergil scrunches his nose, turning his head away in mock disapproval.

“You are, I can tell,” you nod and slowly push yourself to stand up, wincing from the ache in your body. You take a few shaky steps towards him, extending out your injured arm.

Vergil’s eyes immediately flit back to you, following the trail of blood you were leaving behind with each step. “Why?” he narrows his eyes suspiciously, trying to hide how much he was fighting with himself.

“Consider it a peace-offering, for breaking and entering,” you offer him a nervous smile, arm shaking with fear as you hold it out for him.

Vergil chuckles with a smirk, finding your bravery amusing more than anything. He takes a calculated stride towards you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist securely. Bowing his head down, he makes a faint hiss in the back of his throat, fangs glinting in the light from the moon coming in. Before making contact, he pauses and looks up at you through silver lashes, eyes deceivingly soft.

“You’re certain?”

“…Will it kill me?”

“No.”

“Then, yes.”

“Foolish little lamb.”

You can hear a laugh rumble his chest before you’re overtaken by the sharp pain of teeth digging into your skin. The fangs make a sickly sound as they puncture the flesh, Vergil’s mouth locked onto the cut and swallowing down the decadent life source. Cheeks hollowed, he draws the blood out in gulps, a satisfied moan vibrating against your arm. As the seconds pass, the dizziness returns, making your head swirl as you lose more and more blood. Despite it, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride, being able to provide for not only a feared predator, but a man of myth. You watch in clouded awe as he drinks, committing his face to memory - the curved nose bridge, the slope of his cheeks, the pouty lips. You didn’t even register that your legs were giving out under you, Vergil slowly lowering the two of you to the ground.

He sat you down and kneeled before you, moving to bite down on a fresh patch of skin closer to your wrist. The stab of fangs makes you lurch back, a moan of pain and disturbing pleasure lamely falling from your mouth. It’s like you could feel the blood pump out of you, his tongue lapping at the new bite to lure out your wine. Now that he was even closer, his scent mingled with the coppery tinge of blood - oak, lavender, and smoke mingling together to form an imprint on your brain.

“Too…..too much…” you croak out, yanking weakly at his hair. He shakes his head against you with a growl, his other hand pinning down your leg to the ground to hold you in place. The entire room is spinning, spots of black impairing your vision. The last thing you remember is calling out his name and seeing his head rise up, mouth releasing you with a ‘pop’ as blood dribbled down his jaw.

The rest of the night was a blur, you falling in and out of consciousness. It was mostly a burst of slideshow memories - his teeth scraping along your skin, the way the blood coated his fangs as he smiled up at you, how light you felt when he carried you up to the master bedroom upstairs. As he laid you down on the old bed, you could hear his light steps as he circled around, pulling blankets over your pathetic body. ‘Rest,’ you heard him whisper before you felt gentle lips press against your forehead, coercing you to sleep. Even in your dreams, he was there, kneeling before you like an angel, swallowing down mouthfuls of your life.

#devil may cry #vergil sparda #dmc #writing #fanfic #oneshot #dmc vergil #vergil sparda x reader #vergil #vergil dmc #dmc writing #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil devil may cry #vampire!vergil #vampire au

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 days ago

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Barnes Bakes Chapter 4

A request that turned into a short story. * mudak: moron or blowhard in Russian

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That Sunday he decided to be brave and not wear a long sleeve or gloves as he walked over to her door at exactly 7:00 p.m. He took a deep breath and knocked on her door. He heard her footsteps and then the door swung open to her smiling face. “Hey sweet pea,” she greeted him. “Come in, come in. I’ve been working on this all day.”

He gave her a quick smile and walked in, taking off his shoes and following her into the kitchen. Y/N guided him to the dining table and told him to sit while she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a platter that she brought over to the table with two forks. She set it in front of him and his eyes went wide. “Are these petit four?” he asked quietly.

“Yes!” Y/N smiled widely, her voice sounding excited. “This row is classic lemon and raspberry. This row is chocolate, espresso and orange. And this row is the boozy one. I may or may not have noticed you bringing home a bottle of Irish liqueur a while ago, and figured I’d start with that first, so these are Irish cream liqueur with vanilla and a cherry mousse layer.”

His eyebrows raised at the last one. “Jesus,” he said.

She giggled and took a fork and sunk it into the first row. “You can have the boozy one last. Try this first,” she said, holding the fork up to his mouth.

“Are you seriously going to feed m—” Bucky made a surprised sound as she shoved the treat into his mouth. He quickly took the bite, giving her a playful glare before the flavors hit his tongue and he hummed. “Mmh, that is…fuck,” he moaned.

“Right?” Y/N said happily. “Now take a drink of water and try the next.”

Bucky did as she said and tried the second one with the same reaction, then excitedly grabbed a whole petit four of the Irish cream one and popped it in his mouth before she could put her fork in it. She gasped and smacked his metal arm playfully, making him chuckle with his mouthful before he really took a bite. The flavor seemed to burst on his tongue, the mix of the liqueur and vanilla being the perfect combination, then the hit of the tart cherry mousse making him moan loudly and his eyes roll back. “Holy shit,” he said around the mouthful. “That is perfect. How did you come up with that? The cherry and the fiery aftertaste of the liqueur? My god,” he complimented her heavily.

Y/N was nearly jumping on her toes, her wide toothy smile stretching her face and her hands in fists, shaking in excitement as she watched him eat it. “Your favorite?” she asked hopefully.

Bucky smirked at her and grabbed another one and popped it in his mouth. “My new favorite,” he said, chewing it with a sigh. “You’ve created my new favorite dessert.”

Y/N pumped her fist with pride, making him laugh. “Yes! I told you I’d find it!” she said, sitting in the seat next to him and using her fork to take small bites of the other ones. “I can’t promise I’ll make them for you all the time, they’re very time consuming. But tell me when your birthday is and I’ll bring it by special just for you.”

Bucky and Y/N ate the rest of the petit four, talking and laughing about things as they got to know each other more. At one point Y/N yawned, and Bucky glanced at his phone, seeing it was 10:45. “I’m sorry, I’ve kept you up and you have work tomorrow,” Bucky said.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize,” Y/N said, quickly standing up and cleaning up the platter and the utensils she grabbed, bringing them to her kitchen and rinsing them off before putting them in the dishwasher. She turned to Bucky and smiled. “Well, thank you for being my taste tester. I’m glad I finally figured it out.”

“So am I,” Bucky said. “Though my friend Sam is gonna be sad about not getting as many treats at work now.”

“Well, maybe you’ll just have to send him my way,” Y/N said. “I could use some more word of mouth marketing.”

“Done,” he nodded with finality.

She walked him to her front door, and he turned to face her one last time after he unlocked his door. “Thanks for the dessert,” he said. “And um, not that it matters but…I broke up with Mandy.” Y/N smirked and nodded. “I don’t like drama, either,” he said simply.

Y/N’s smirk widened. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said sarcastically. Bucky laughed, and she laughed along with him. “Goodnight, sweet pea,” she sing-songed at him as she backed away and started closing her door.

“Goodnight, doll,” Bucky said, opening his door and stepping back.

She gave him a wide-eyed look, biting back a smile, and she blushed before shutting her door. Bucky smirked at the fact that he flustered her and closed his door behind him. She hadn’t said a thing about his metal arm all night, and had even smacked it playfully when he joked with her. Maybe this was the start of a good friendship.

***

The months went by with Bucky and Y/N becoming closer and a more regular part of each other’s lives. Bucky had spread word about her bakery to people at the Avengers Compound, and since famous superheroes were showing up to her bakery and getting their pictures taken she was quickly becoming more popular and busy. She became quick friends with Sam and Steve, and started coming over to the Compound more often to hang out with them as well as with Wanda and Yelena for girls' nights. His feelings toward her shifted rapidly from friendly to romantic, but he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. She had become one of the most important people in his life. He had on more than one occasion come home after a mission feeling drained emotionally, and had knocked on her door before even facing his own just to talk to her. Her bubbly personality, her sarcasm, her give-no-shit-take-no-shit attitude helped ground him and feel like a regular person rather than this weird, out of time, misplaced and enhanced thing.

Steve, Sam, Wanda and Yelena had all started bugging him about his feelings. “It’s so obvious!” Yelena groaned, her head lolling back exasperatedly. “Just ask her out, you mudak!”

“She’s right,” Wanda said, arching her eyebrow at him.

“Fuck off,” Bucky said, glaring at them both.

“Why won’t you?” Sam asked. “Y/N’s awesome. And we can all tell you like her and she likes you.”

“She doesn’t like me. Not like that,” Bucky said dismissively.

“She does,” Steve said. Bucky glared at him, raising his hands at him in betrayal. “What? She does!” he said, raising his hands back at him. “We can all see it. Why can’t you?”

“Because she just doesn't,” Bucky said, slightly shaking his head. “I’m not gonna ruin one of the best friendships I’ve made in this century over some stupid little boy crush.”

“Oh yes, ‘cause you’ve had great picks in girls before,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Mandy was a real catch.”

The rest of them all groaned at the mention of Mandy, who they all heavily disliked. Bucky rubbed his eyes harshly. “Come on, pal, she’s great,” Steve said encouragingly. “We all love her. And you’re already great friends with her. It can only go up from here. And even if she said no, that’s the worst that would happen. She wouldn’t cut you off. She’d just say no thanks, let’s be friends, and move on. All that ‘no drama’ policy and what not.”

Bucky shook his head again. “Well if you won’t, I’ll try,” Yelena said nonchalantly. He glared at her, and she smirked back at him. “She’s pansexual, Barnes. And the difference between you and me?” She leaned forward on the table, arching an eyebrow and her smirk deepening. “We’ve shared a bed and seen each other naked.”

His eyes widened, Sam choked on his drink, Steve snorted and Wanda laughed, smacking Yelena’s arm. “Oh please,” she continued laughing. “Nothing has happened at our girls’ night sleepovers,” she said quickly, looking at the men around the table.

“Yet,” Yelena said, still staring at Bucky. He scoffed and stood from the table, walking away from the conversation. Steve gave Yelena a disapproving look and she just smiled back at him. “Maybe that’ll kick his ass to make a damn move,” she shrugged.

“Are you seriously gonna make a move if he doesn’t?” Sam asked, his own mischievous smile on his face.

“Maybe,” Yelena shrugged, and Wanda laughed again.

@wintrsoldrluvr @greatenthusiasttidalwave @itsteambarnes @440mxs-wife

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 4 #ask #request #anon ask #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #curvy reader

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magiclwritings · 17 hours ago

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There had always been an unspoken notion between all of them. Oliver and Isaac didn't ask, Apollo and Cassio never made them privy to the darker side of their friendship. For the time being, it had been working flawlessly. Well, if you counted that both partners were completely in the dark to either Cass or Apollo's safety at any point during the day. That had always been the unspoken part that lay between them all. Whether or not they all knowingly signed up for it was another matter all together. So as Isaac stood there, hating that there was no other alternative than what he'd been given before him, he sighed and gave in.

"Please be ca'eful." He spoke softly, moving his hands up Apollo's back and he pulled him in close. There was no sense in even trying to talk him out of it when he had that look in his eye. Isaac was a lot of things but stupid was not one of them. And at the risk of those marks on their friend becoming a reality on that little boy safely tucked into their bed, he couldn't stomach that more than what Apollo had been proposing. What did that say about him? Of course, any rational person would think the same. But perhaps not nearly as dire as this. But that was Apollo. All brute force and brains that were so brilliant it sometimes scared Isaac but ultimately brought out love all the more.

Isaac gave a gentle nod to Oliver, his hand lowering for him to lay back down. There was so much bruising still but he'd been fairly confident that now all he needed was to administer some sort of pain killer for Oliver and they all could take a deep breath. Well ... for the time being anyway. He brought his hand up to Apollo's cheek and turned him to look at him again. "Ya ha'e ta come back 'n one piece too." He chided as playfully as he could muster under the circumstances. "We ha'e a kid now an I won' be one o' them da's tha' tal' abou' how we los' ya in the wa'." He teased, leaning in to kiss those lips oh so softly. "Jus' co'e back ta me." He whispered, hugging onto that solid frame he'd loved for so many years.

At least we're all on the same page. He thought, hearing Oliver from the other room. He wondered briefly why he never wore all black more often. It was amazing how well it complimented him. Cass looked over his arms in the snuggly fitting clothing as he made his way to join the others. Seeing Oliver again was going to be jarring but he'd be alright. Those bruises and marks would fade and Oliver would be as he always was. The person that made them however? It'd been a while since he'd had to consider making this sort of choice concerning someone's life but the look on Apollo's face made it clear that there was no room for anything but that.

Cass saw Isaac first and shimmied by both him and Apollo to see Oliver. It made his stomach flop the moment he saw the marks again but he pushed a smile to his face and moved in closer to him. "Hey." Cass breathed, setting himself down gently on the bed next to him. He sucked in a deep breath seeing the movement caused Oliver some discomfort. "It never ceases to amaze me how fierce you are." Because he was. Oliver always made it a point to say how great his siblings were and what they were great in but what he didn't know was that he was the glue for them and even their little rag tag family under this roof.

"Think I can leave you in charge of that one?" He nodded towards Isaac and smiled. Honestly, at this point, whatever had happened before had to be left for the time being. It just had to be. His eyes moved from one mark to the next and then the next. He had never questioned when Apollo and he went on missions like this before but now, this was personal. And he'd make sure that man knew the hell he put that little boy through. "Honestly, I think you've been the bravest tonight." He told him in earnest, moving his hand gently to lay over Oliver's. "You always are. I don't .." He sighed, smiling warmly at him. "I just want you to worry about getting better." Cass glanced to Oliver and nodded, ready when he was.

The underlying fear was that Apollo would eventually push Cassio past his breaking point. The two had been through so much, and Apollo knew it was because of him. He had developed the habit of dragging Cassio into his bullshit, leaning on him to help fix every shitty thing in his life. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t fair. He knew Cassio deserved better, but Apollo was selfish, and Cassio was his crutch.

But standing in front of him now, Apollo wasn’t sure if Cassio would come with him. He would be going, with or without Cassio, but their security in backing each other up made the difference. It made Apollo feel like he could overcome anything that came his way. It wasn’t until Cassio said, “I’m with you always.” Apollo’s lips twisted into a smile, and he felt a wave of reassurance wash over him. He pulled Cassio into a hug, squeezing his body against Apollo’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his person. They could do this. They would do this. Together. As it should be.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he said, pulling away. I promise.” Apollo turned towards the bed, taking in the sight of Theo sleeping peacefully. He was curious if his biological dad looked like Apollo, which was why the boy resembled him, or if Alexandra had used magic, knowing that could happen in the future. The boy looked too much like Apollo had at that age for it to be purely a coincidence. It didn’t matter much to Apollo if she had or hadn't. She trusted him with his son’s life, and he would do everything he could to treat him like his son as if he had always been meant to be Apollo’s son. In another life, he would have been.

“If you want to change clothes, do it now. There’s extra clothes that’ll fit you in the closet.” The chest would open for Cassio as anything revolved around their work. “I’m going to go tell the others we’re going out.” Apollo walked past Cassio, stopping for a moment to squeeze his shoulder. Then, he continued through the room and went to the guest bedroom.

Isaac was hovering over Oliver, tending to his wounds. “Isaac,” Apollo called out, getting his boyfriend’s attention and beckoning him over. With Isaac standing before him, Apollo’s arms immediately circled the man’s waist. “I’m taking Cassio, and I’m going to Alexandria’s house,” He explained, looking up at Isaac. There was no beating around the bush with this. He knew there was tension between his boyfriend and best friend, but Apollo didn’t have the luxury of time to soothe those insecurities. “I have to go tonight. I can’t give him more time to hide evidence or plan his next move. He must be taken care of before anything else happens to Theo.” Maybe it would count for something that he was being truthful with Isaac, or perhaps it would make things worse. After Theo was safe, Apollo would worry about the forgiveness part of it later.

“Apollo.” Oliver’s voice was weak and fractured, and he rolled over onto his side, the pain cutting across his face. Apollo flickered his gaze from Isaac over to Oliver. The man’s eyes welled up with tears, and his chin quivered. It was hard for Apollo to imagine exactly how much pain Oliver was in, but he knew it was a great deal. He was a lot stronger than Apollo had ever realized. “I want you and Cassio to make him pay.”

#Where do we go from here?;#Oliver;#Apollo;

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sunfloowerlatte-art · 1 year ago

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birth of a saint

#I nearly gave up on this one so many times #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt fanart #tlt #the locked tomb fanart #ianthe tridentarius #ianthe naberius #cw ianthe tridentarius #cw blood #gideon the ninth spoilers #coronabeth tridentarius #ianthe the first

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torchwood-99 · 3 days ago

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#this makes me so angry i'm going to succumb to grief and die#but seriously what kind of queen are we supposed to assume she was? if the whole time she was sneering down at all her human subjects??#i'm surprised the people of gondor didn't revolt and instate a democracy the first time arwen opened her mouth in front of them

I reckon she was something of a benevolent but removed figure. I don't think she mixed much with the people, and any hand in ruling she had was entirely through giving advice to Aragorn. The advice she gave him might have been good, because she was kind and wise, as evidenced by her gesture to Frodo, but I don't think she ever considered herself as one of the mortals. There were elves around in Gondor at the time, and Aragorn was raised by elves and as mentioned above, Arwen fell in love with him when he was dressed up to appear nearly elven, so I think Arwen stuck firmly with the elves and elf-lite Aragorn, and was kindly but removed from anything mortal. (Elanor, Sam's daughter, was Arwen's maid of honour for a time, and she was considered so fair as to appear more elven than hobbit, which is interesting).

That's perhaps why the deaths of other mortal characters who died before Aragorn, Eomer, Eowyn, Faramir, Merry and Pippin, who we might headcanon Arwen as being close to, didn't give her that insight into the pains of mortality that Aragorn's did. I think Arwen's attitude towards mortals was one of condescending compassion.

It's worth noting that for many years, Arwen meant to marry Aragorn, and become a Queen of Men, yet in those years she never set out to spend time with men.

I think that's why, when Aragorn died, she perished, because the elves were now leaving, and perhaps her children she considered too "mortal" (she didn't teach her daughters to bake lembas bread), so she returned to her grandmother's lands and died there.

Hot take: I cannot stand the “Tale of Aragorn and Arwen.” It makes Aragorn and Arwen look like terrible people, but even worse, Tolkien did not intend for Aragorn and Arwen to be terrible people. Which means that the story is just… poorly written. I know I’ve praised Tolkien’s use of understatement as an artistic choice, but here he simply fails to communicate.

Let’s start with the character assassination of Arwen. At least Aragorn’s entitled attitude is foreshadowed in the main text of LotR, but poor Arwen gets her entire personality (such as it is) flipped upside down. I’m talking about this scene where Aragorn is dying and she suddenly discovers that death is, like, bad:

“But I say to you, King of the Númenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.”

Now, Arwen barely exists in the novel, but the two character traits she gets are SMART and EMPATHETIC. Then, with these three short sentences in the appendices, Tolkien says lol no Arwen is DUMB and SELF-ABSORBED, ackchually. I know some people like Arwen becoming more complex or morally grey or whatnot, but I find this quote jarringly inconsistent with her character in the novel.

First impressions are important, and the first time Arwen appears in LotR we are told that “thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring.” So right away, the main thing Tolkien wants us to know about Arwen is that she is smart and thoughtful, in addition to being beautiful. After all, she’s the daughter of the greatest lore master in Middle Earth, and she’s had over 2,000 years to browse Elrond’s library and ponder life’s mysteries. Her longest scene in LotR, the only scene where she gets to speak, is all about her empathy:

“But the Queen Arwen said: 'A gift I will give you. For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him now when he departs to the Havens; for mine is the choice of Luthien, and as she so I have chosen, both the sweet and the bitter. But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West, until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven!'

And she took a white gem like a star that lay upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain, and she set the chain around Frodo's neck. 'When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you,' she said, 'this will bring you aid.”

Arwen is the reason Frodo goes to the Grey Havens. No one else sees him and his pain quite this clearly. Even Sam is shocked when Frodo leaves, thinking that he was going to “enjoy the Shire for years and years.” But Arwen gets him. Instantly. Her mother left Middle Earth after suffering great torment, and Arwen makes that connection and offers Frodo the same healing that her mother chose.

Why does Arwen wear a necklace that apparently has some kind of magic trauma-soothing powers? Does it help her when she is feeling sad about Celebrian? Is it a parallel to the Elessar, the healing stone that Aragorn carries (his Elfstone, her Evenstar)? In any case, giving it away to Frodo reinforces Arwen’s generous, thoughtful nature. She takes after her father: kind as summer, skilled at healing. For I am the daughter of Elrond.

This deeply empathetic Arwen seems too imaginative for the smugness of “as wicked fools I scorned them.” If Arwen LITERALLY didn’t try to understand how the Numenorians felt until her husband was dying in front of her, that’s… horrifying. Did Arwen really shrug off the deaths of Eowyn and Faramir and all the humans she knew in Gondor, in addition to any humans she met over centuries of living in Rivendell? Did she never feel pity for her own infant children who were born “doomed to die”? When Arwen chose death for herself, she also chose it for her children!

The idea that Arwen couldn’t figure out why the Numenorians were sad about dying is just ridiculous, especially because Arwen never has anything positive to say about mortality, ever! Aragorn is the one who pushes her to renounce her immortality, and she hesitates for a long time before saying, “I will cleave to you, Dúnadan, and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin.” And Elrond straight up tells Aragorn, “I fear that to Arwen the Doom of Men may seem hard at the ending.” There is no indication that Arwen has a rosy view of mortality!

To me, Arwen’s words about the Numenorians feel like sloppy writing. I imagine Tolkien meant something like “losing you is even worse than I imagined,” not “I am a spoiled elf princess who has never questioned the Elf Catechism until this exact moment.”

Or no. It’s worse than that. The entire story is imbued with this idea that Arwen has no life outside of Aragorn! Tolkien never explains how Aragorn grew up in Rivendell without learning that Elrond had a daughter. Seriously, he is 20 at their first meeting and he asks her if Elrond has kept her “locked in his hoard”? Classy! And when Aragorn dies, Arwen immediately leaves her children and loved ones behind to go die alone in Lothlorien. Because there’s no way she could carry on for a few more years and enjoy her grandkids, apparently.

And this is a trope with Tolkien! There’s Rian, who leaves her newborn son behind to go die on her husband’s grave, and Melian, who peaces out to Valinor the second her husband is killed (instead of staying around to govern Doriath). Eowyn’s mother dies of grief after her husband is killed in battle. It’s a very icky double standard—the male characters tend to soldier on after their wives die (Finwe, Turgon, Denethor, Theoden).

The idea that Aragorn’s death is the first one that has really mattered to Arwen and that she has nothing to live for without him is just… sexism! That’s all it is.

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reesestshirt · 1 year ago

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When I was in middle school, I tried to learn how to crochet. I knew how to knit already, so I figured ‘how hard could it be’ and used my Christmas money on a brand new set of aluminum hooks and a how-to book.

To say it was difficult was an understatement. I spent hours pouring over my book, begging to gain some inkling of understanding from what felt like incomprehensible runes. My reward? One lopsided trapezoid of lumpy fabric and a resolve to never pick up a crochet hook again.

And so life went on, I finished middle school and high school without giving crochet so much as a second glance. In college, I read about how crochet couldn’t be replicated by a machine, it was unique in a way that knitting and many other fiber arts weren’t.

For Christmas last year, my girlfriend gave me what I now consider to be my most prized possession: a crocheted plush of my favorite pokemon. I raved over her skills and, since she never learned how to knit, we decided to have a yarn date at some point and teach each other our respective skills.

We never did get around to that yarn date. She passed a few months after our declaration, leaving me to inherit what was left of her yarn.

Nearly a decade after my initial attempt, I got ready for the toughest battle of my life. My weapons? One skein of yarn, a YouTube video, and a crochet hook that I had somehow never gotten rid of.

I slowly made my way through the video, redoing my work a couple times until I was satisfied with my product: a small, slightly misshapen rectangle.

I looked at my pristinely-made pokemon plush with hope for the first time in months and thought to myself, ‘maybe crocheting isn’t the hardest thing in the world, maybe you were just 12.’

Maybe this isn’t the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I’m just 21.

#crochet #grief #prose poetry #love #memories #yarn #knitting #creative writing

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sleepyhoon · 3 months ago

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✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen imagine #heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #enhypen scenario #heeseung scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scencario #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader

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ruins-of-gods · 6 months ago

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Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.

#warhammer #my thoughts #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000

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princesssmars · 2 months ago

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better leave your man at home!

mini stories of vi, sevika, abby, and ellie showing you your true worth.

wc : 7.306

contains : sfw and nsfw. fxf. fem!reader. cheating on the men's part until ellie's part lol. ellie’s is a modern!au the rest are in canon. mentions of violence and alcohol. silco but he's chill. owen but he's not chill. reader can be interpreted as bi or comphet i think!

a/n : ladies if you're reading this...cheat on him. or cheat back. yknow what just leave him.

VIOLET ꨄ

ʚɞ ever since getting out of prison and restarting her life, vi had been looking for a new purpose.

ʚɞ she had found a solid job, managed to reconnect with wither last siblings left alive, and started to build up a life for herself, but still, she felt...aimless. she longed for a deeper connection than the ones she had, someone she could yet again.

ʚɞ and then she meets you, a sweet little store owner with a voice that sounds like a symphony and an attitude as sweet as cookies. the first time she even met you she bumped into you on the street outside your bakery, knocking you supplies for your treats all over the ground. she's expecting that usual zaunite 'watch where you're going!' but instead you tell her not to worry, that you were carrying too many things anyway.

ʚɞ it was almost instinct for her to assure you she was at fault, downright demanding she help you carry everything that dropped inside and that it was the least she could do. you call her a sweetheart and tell her if she does you'll send her home with a plate of her favorite dessert. how could she say no?

ʚɞ she cant help but to quickly hang out with you whenever she can. after her shifts she stops by to help you close up, telling you its the least she could do for someone who was oh-so sweet. you seem to welcome her affections, whispering one late night when making some extra batter that you always appreciate when she stops by. she goes home on a high that night.

ʚɞ but then the worst thing ever happens. you get a boyfriend.

ʚɞ apparently he's some old family friend who moved back to the city when he found a small fortune overseas and was ready to come back to 'win you over like he tried years ago'. you told the story with a slightly wistful voice but all vi could do was nod along with wide eyes and a shut mouth.

ʚɞ eventually, she meets the guy, a tall and rather weasly looking guy who was waiting impatiently outside the store. she gave him a simple greeting and all he could do was tilt his head in recognition that she was there, apparently. she passed him and went to the back of the store and asked you what he was doing standing outside looking all suspicious. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when you told her he was waiting to take you out but had to stand outside because he couldn't stand the smell of bread.

ʚɞ yeah, this definitely wasn't gonna last long. she’d just have to get you to see that.

ʚɞ sadly, she didn't have to do much work. ton a sunny day when the two of you were walking through the upper city levels together you stopped in your tracks, a talking vi whose arm was wrapped with yours questioning what made you stop before following your eyesight to see your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, way too close for comfort. vi wanted nothing more in that moment than to go and knock the bastard's lights out, but she had to prioritize you first.

ʚɞ you go into a depression for a week, your shop closed and your apartment locked as you skulk and cry in your home. but thankfully you gave vi a key not too long into your friendship, and she wakes you up one afternoon and demands you go and clean yourself up while she takes care of your chores.

ʚɞ you come out of the shower feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, your mood only lifting higher at the smell of cookies in the air. you pad out to the kitchen and cant help but smile when you see vi standing with a tray of perfectly made chocolate chip cookies on the island counter.

ʚɞ you sit up on your counter and moan at the taste of the cookies, vi accepting your praise of her baking skills with pride as she rubs over your bare thighs. eventually the topic steers to your recent heartbreak and vi makes sure you can complain and vent to her all you want.

ʚɞ but the last thing she wants to hear is you blaming yourself, teary-eyed and mumbling about how maybe you were too overbearing in your affections. she gently but sternly brings your attention to her, making sure you look her in the eyes when she goes on about how you’re the nicest and most soft-natured person she’s ever known and he was a fool to not see what an amazing woman he had in front of him.

ʚɞ and you cant help but feel even worse at the clear effect her affection has on you, unconsciously biting her lip at her praise and closeness. her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes, slowly inching her head forward for permission. as soon as you slightly nod your head she’s kissing you with months of pent-up adoration, warmth, and lust.

ʚɞ a small part of you feels guilty for moving on to your close friend only a week after you broke up with your boyfriend, but when her fingers are drifting down to your cunt and making you cry as you cum over and over again, you can't find it in you to care.

ʚɞ “he was an idiot to give up on someone as sweet as you. but down worry muffin, i’m not gonna take that chance.”

SEVIKA ꨄ

ʚɞ sevika had made a promise to herself years ago: don't mess with married women.

ʚɞ she could give herself some grace, she was young and dumb, and the woman was incredibly gorgeous. and when a woman with legs that could bring any person woman or man to their knees comes up to you and asks you your plans for the night, you cant exactly pass up the opportunity. though she wishes she did after her partner caught them together in bed and she got in one of the worst fights of her life.

ʚɞ but she had to admit things in her life were getting a bit…stale, to say the least. her schedule was a steady routine of doing tasks for silco, reeling in jinx, and keeping the last drop working like a well-oiled machine. she didn't want anything drastic that would screw up their plans to happen, just…something.

ʚɞ and oh, does she get it. some out of towner got too rowdy in the bar and started a bar fight and before she could come in and get things under control theirams leg gets broken. so now she’s tasked with finding a good enough replacement to cover him for the few months it gets healed since he for some reason couldn't just take a shimmer dose and get back on his feet in no time.

ʚɞ she goes through dozens of recruits, all either too disobedient or downright atrocious behind a bar. she’s just about to give up and force one of the goons to do it when you come through the door. you’re rather unassuming, and at first she things you’re joking until you travel behind the bar and instruct her to give you any drink and you can make it. after ten different drinks she’s more than convinced.

ʚɞ she doesn't talk to you much at first, you’re just another cog in the machine that keeps the enterprise running smoothly. obviously she’s noticed that you’re attractive, surrounded by a stern but easy-going aura that makes most customers sit and want to talk to you for hours on end. it amused her when she watched how you convinced three different patrons to buy some more drinks so you’d continue telling them a wild story of some adventure you apparently had in bilgewater years back.

ʚɞ she can't help but ask you if its true later when the bar is closing and you’re wiping everything down, rolling her eyes when you call her out for listening to your conversations. you reveal that all your stories of adventure and excitement are true, but that you gave that life up when you decided to settle down after you get married.

ʚɞ she scoffs that the woman you married must be a hell of a catch to get you to leave behind such an exciting life, and she sees your eyes drop when you reveal that life with your husband is a nice and quiet alternative to your days of danger. sevika’s always had a good poker face, and she’s really glad she has it now after hearing you gave up all of that for a guy. and that her gaydar was apparently wrong, which never happens.

ʚɞ but its almost like this is the challenge her mind has been looking for, because after that conversation she keeps having late-night talks with you when no one else is around. you’re disarmingly easy to talk to, able to show a compassion and understanding that isn’t common for the folks down here. its only a few hours after she gets a bit too tipsy and accidentally lets slip a story about her upbringing that she lays in bed and slaps her human hand to her forehead in frustration when instead of being embarrassed all she can think about is your soft hand gently rubbing her shoulder as she poured her heart out.

ʚɞ she is so screwed.

ʚɞ eventually, you draw silco’s attention. mostly because the profits from the bar have nearly doubled since you started working, partly because he can tell a certain someone is distracting sevika. he gave her a list of tasks one day that he could tell she hated doing and she went off with a nod and without a word, and she either had a new woman in her life or she was about to snap. he made sure to find out about you a few minutes later, and asked/demanded to know more about your life. in particular, any outside connections you had.

ʚɞ sevika doesn't know whether she wants to thank silco or kill him when you’re given a more permanent position at the bar and finally introduce the crew to your husband, a man who silco has apparently given a job in his booking department. when sevika pulls him aside later to ask why he would od something like that, he just. shrugs. silco never just shrugs.

ʚɞ now that you’ve basically part of their little crime family it's even easier for sevika to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you jinx has taken a liking to you, but you handle it well and always make sure to give the girl her favorite drink in her favorite cup whenever she stops in the bar to babble on about some new weapon of mayhem she’s decided to make.

ʚɞ but after a few weeks she notices your mood start to sour, how you start getting snippy with some of the more rowdy drunks who stumble through the bar. she catches you a few hours after closing sat behind the bar with a half drunken bottle in your hand and mascara running down your cheeks. normally if this was anyone else she’d scoff to herself and quickly make her exit but instead she plops herself down next to you and demands you tell her what's wrong. through hiccups and tears, you tell her that you’re pretty sure your husband is lying to you. about a lot. in particular about where he spends his nights and comes back grumbling about ‘unfair bets’ and losing cash.

ʚɞ sevika assures you she’ll get to the bottom of it, and it only takes her a few hours of trailing thee guy to find out the problem. it seems your betrothed has been gambling your money away in seedy gambling circles, with some guys she swore she told to cut it out months ago when it came to rigging their dice when playing with tourists. but the amounts he’s using are definitely more than what either of you are making on a salary.

ʚɞ she tries not to smile when she picks the excuse of a man up by the back of his neck with her mech hand, reveling in the horrified look on his face as he makes up excuse after excuse for why he’s been stealing money from you and the boss, that he swears he’ll make it back up to silco-

ʚɞ you come in the next day as confused as ever, whispering that your husband packed up his things in the middle of the night and disappeared. sevika sits you down and explains that your husband was a thief, stealing hundreds from silco rather sloppily under his nose, and was dealt with in a timely manner. but she assures you that you won't be affected by any debts he may have had, she’ll make sure of it and make sure none of those gamblers come after you.

ʚɞ you only grow closer and closer after that night, and its no surprise you start to catch feelings for the gorgeous woman who constantly makes sure you’re safe and protected. its on one of the bars rather more exciting nights that you relent and play a drinking game with some members of the crew, and in a moment of weakness accidentally admit that since your husband left you haven't been laid in weeks, and in an additional moment of weakness admit that the first person you’d like to rock your world would be none other than silco’s second hand.

ʚɞ it was just your luck that the woman was walking by when the words left your lips, and fueled by her own dose of liquid courage came up behind you and whispered that she was free at that moment.

ʚɞ you expected many things when you settled down in zaun, and getting bent in half for hours on end by the second in command to the rule of the underground was not one of them. but when sevika groans in your ear and moans about how you have the tightest pussy she’s ever had the pleasure of taking, you’re really glad it happened to you.

ʚɞ “god, i’m really not gonna be able to stay away from you now. promise that the next time you get married you’re not gonna have to worry about being disappointed ever again.”

ʚɞ (when sevika walks in the next morning with a rare smile on her face silco does admit that he hired your husband knowing he’d be an idiot that she’d have to get rid of. you’re welcome.)

ABBY ꨄ

ʚɞ abby never saw herself as a jealous person. she’d only been in one relationship before, and even though it ended rather sourly she knew it was only natural that they’d both eventually move on. but when she sees you, a new wlf recruit walking and smiling side by side with owen, she feels…weird. really weird.

ʚɞ she does feel bad that as soon as he introduces you all to the group at a small party thrown by some of the soldiers all she can manage is tight-lipped smile and a small wave. you visibly deflate and smile it off, immediately pulled away by nora and leah to grab some drinks. manny butts her shoulder with his, giving her that ‘what the hell?’ look he loves to do. she defensively apologizes, because how should she react? her ex-boyfriend clearly has a thing for you, is she supposed to be all buddy buddy with you?

ʚɞ it doesn't help that its clear to everyone that you’re pretty. like, weirdly pretty for someone in the middle of an apocalyptic setting. crystal clear skin, smooth lips, and eyes of a beautiful shade. she caught herself staring once in the gym as you laughed with one of the trainers and had to quickly get herself together.

ʚɞ isaac must be playing a sick game because you then get assigned to go with her on patrol. she initially resented, questioning why you were tagging along when you mostly worked with the medics and mel was already trailing along. he said that apparently you had asked for the chance to get some more field practice and left it at that, dismissing her with a wave.

ʚɞ she was quiet for most of the ride to the patrol spot, hands tight on the steering wheel as you sat in the back of the truck with the others in the group and laughed at some story one the guys was talking about.

ʚɞ god, even your laugh is cute, she thinks as she carefully maneuvers the truck around a downed tree. youre like if a dream girl was placed down in this wasteland to torture her, a giant sign to tell her of course owen went after you, you were perfect. more perfect than she could be.

ʚɞ it isnt helpful that shes left partnered with you as you clear out the abandoned store in the strip mall they've all been sent to check and re-clear the spaces if necessary. she finds herself frustrated when you very reasonably and very smartly stick to her side the whole time. she swears she almost trips over an overgrown branch when she catches a whiff of your soap and she doesnt know where the hell you managed to snag vanilla flavored anything.

ʚɞ everything is fine for a while. you both remain vigilant as you walk through the barely lit aisles of the department store, the only action when a clicker jumps up out of nowhere and nearly tackled you before she’s roughly pushing you out of the way and kicking out its knees before bashing in its head with her boot. she’s panting and catching her breath before roughly asking if you were alright and reminding you to stay vigilant, taking your wide eyed stare for shock at a close encounter to what would be a rather painful death.

ʚɞ but despite her rather abrasive attitude you try your best to be friendly with her. you reveal that owen did confide about their past relationship, and as awkward as the situation sometimes was you wouldn’t let it drive a wedge between you, that you in fact wanted to be friends with abby. you had heard a great many things about her, how she was a loyal friend, a courageous leader, clearly an incredibly strong soldier-

ʚɞ her brain. short circuits a bit. the way you called her strong, like it was fact that was so obvious that she’d already proven it to you just by being out here. sure she’d pushed you of out the trajectory of that clicker but that was normal, anyone should and would do the same. she realizes you wouldn’t get the chance to see any displays of strength like that back in the base save for the visits to the gym, and a foreign voice in her head laments what a shame that is.

ʚɞ she doesn’t realize until a day later just how screwed she is.

ʚɞ whatever weird…feelings she has for you don’t even get a chance to go away or settle, just fester and multiply with your constant presence. where abby is her friends are close by, and that now includes you. at small get togethers, shared gym workouts, breakfast lunch and dinner hangouts, you’re always there with a bright smile and a warm greeting for her. she thinks she’s hiding whatever it is she’s hiding pretty well until nora pulls her to the side and asks why she just keeps staring at you whenever you’re around, that she understand there might be some lingering feelings of jealousy and resentment towards owen but that’s no reason to treat you rudely.

ʚɞ abby stumbles over her words, insisting that she’s not treating you rudely, that’s the last thing she would want to do. who would ever do that to someone as nice and sweet and gorgeous as you? she ends her mini explanation with a stiff chuckle and looks at nora who’s now staring at her with an open mouth and a flabbergasted look on her face.

ʚɞ so it’s clear that abby likes you. she doesn’t know how to grapple with the fact, and decides its best to just deal with it privately and wait for it to just pass as most things do. the only person who knows is nora, who after not talking to her for a few hours after their last encounter came back to abby’s room to apologize for walking out on her in a moment where they so clearly needed to talk more about what was just revealed. she assures abby that she’ll help her through this but it’s very confusing to herself as well. it’s not every day you have to deal with your best friend falling in love with her boyfriends new girlfriend.

ʚɞ she doesn’t agree with abby’s method, frequently telling her that dealing with this in private will only have the opposite effect. and just like normally she’s right, abby’s increased attempt at distance from you only peaks your worry and drives you to constantly check in on her to make sure she’s okay. one day you come by her room after one of your workouts, and the sight of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat in shorts and a tank asking her sweetly if she’s feeling okay and if she’d like to join you for lunch let’s her know for sure that she really can’t do this for much longer.

ʚɞ so she’s tries her best to try a different approach : exposure therapy. as bad as it sounds, she’s sure once she starts spending more time with you she’ll realize you aren’t some mythical girl of of her dreams and are just a normal person who’s dating her ex and who she can totally just be normal friends with. she comes up to you in the halls a few days later and asks if you’d like her to help you train for more field work and you beam up at her before wrapping your arms around her neck and thanking her a multitude of times before composing yourself. you go one about how you were so eager to prove yourself and you’d do no better than to have the abby anderson teaching you the basics. she zoned out as soon as she felt your skin against the back of her neck, nodding along to all of your words with a doe-eyed blank look.

ʚɞ it’s really nice bonding with you over the course of a few short weeks. you quickly pick up on the things she teaches you, and whatever you don’t she’s more than eager to help you learn. she hates to admit it but her conscious cheered a little bit when you told her you needed help aiming one of the bigger rifles, and it nearly screamed when she got to place herself behind you and helped you aim at the target practice. maybe she’s a bit delusional at this point but she swears she felt your body relax into hers, felt your breath stutter just a bit when her chest met your back.

ʚɞ and she knows it’s serious when she trusts you enough to share her space in the library. it’s a night when manny has a girl over so she’s in her usual cozy spot surrounded by the book shelves when she shears your gentle footsteps and call of her name, remarking that you initially went to the room out of loneliness about owen being gone for the night but came here when a breathless and shirtless manny told you her usual sleepover spot. she invites you to settle in with her in her heap of old blankets surrounded by dusty novels, trying her best to remain calm when you lean your head on her shoulders and insisted she keep reading her current book aloud.

ʚɞ she wakes up to the early morning light with her head rested on top of yours, snuggled up to battle the chill of the stadium air and your hand clamped around her arm. when she looks down at your face and wishes she could see you like this every day she realizes that she is really, really screwed.

ʚɞ luckily she doesn’t have to wait long to see you like that again. well, the circumstances are rather horrid. yet another soldier was having small secret party ok one of the larger stadium dorms and you were glued to abby’s side. everyone besides nora was confused but happy that the two of you seemed to be getting along so well, and nora herself kept giving abby looks that were a mixture between pity, worry, and just a bit of ‘you need to just get this off of your chest to anyone else but me’ annoyance.

ʚɞ abby was your designated drink manager, constantly making sure you weren’t too drunk and were drinking enough water to stave off any of the negative effects of the smuggled in alcohol they brought in for the party. you’re both sitting on one of the couches and observing the party when you make an off handed comment about not seeing owen for a while and abby decides to sit you down snuggly on the couch while she goes to look for him to appease your tipsy haze. her search leads her down the hallway, and it’s only when she hears an object drop in a nearby maintenance closet does she find out the truth.

ʚɞ she whips open the door to see owen and mel in a rather…well, let’s just say a really lewd position. in the midst of being disgusted and infuriated she finds a bit of amusement at mousy mel of all people doing a drunken hookup in a dingy closet. owen hurriedly tries to fix himself and his pants, insisting to abby that it’s not what it looks like, and suddenly his eyes lock on an object behind her and she turns around to see you, teary eyed and clearly betrayed before you silently stoop off to the direction of your own room.

ʚɞ abby is normally a calm person. as a soldier she isn’t afforded the luxury to let her emotions get the better of her in moments of stress. but seeing you with tears in your eyes and a wobbly lip makes her wish she broke owen’s nose on the spot. collecting all of her composure, she slaws the closet door in his face and quickly runs after you.

ʚɞ she quickly chases after you, making her way down the stadium halls until she finds your bedroom door agape, quickly knocking and entering when she hears your quiet cry demanding owen leave. she makes sure to announce who she is once she settles in beside you on your bed, gently extending her hands to make sure shes allowed to physically comfort you before pulling you into a tight hug once you let her know it’s okay.

ʚɞ she had again struggles to keep her composure when you cry into her shoulder, not minding the tears staining her t-shirt when she hears you weep about what a fool you wer, how you were such an idiot to believe that someone like him could truly care about you.

ʚɞ in the morning, she can blame the weeks of pent up feelings, or maybe the cup of beer she had an hour before, but she can’t stop herself from grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards her, commanding your attention before she reveals that should’ve warned you about owen earlier, that she should’ve known he would take advantage of someone with as sweet a nature as you. She’s always known he was a fool, but to ruin his chances of someone like you is the dumbest thing he ever could’ve done.

ʚɞ when you sniffle and look up at her with those shiny eyes and puffy lips and ask her if that’s true she feels her composed facade slipping, hands shaky as she reaches up to wipe your tears away before letting her palm letting her fingers trail down your face, biting her lip when she sees your eyelids flutter closer when her hands start to ghost down your neck.

ʚɞ she doesn’t feel sorry when she watches you take off your top, doesn’t feel guilt when she pushes you down to the bed and lets her lips bite and kiss from your neck to her chest and draw out all manners of whines and gasps from your throat. and when she feels your hips lift up and grind into her crotch, when her hands attach themselves to your hips and forces you to bring yourself to an orgasm in your pants, she doesn’t give a shit how it’ll seem when she parades you around the stadium tomorrow.

ʚɞ manny and nora are open mouthed and shocked when you walk hand in hand into the cafeteria the next morning, both starry eyed and covered in love bites as you sit together nearly attached at the hip. when owen walks in a few minutes later and quickly storms out after seeing the two of you, abby can’t help but shrug when manny asked her what the hell is going on.

ʚɞ “owen had his chance, and he should learn that jealously is a monster.”

ELLIE ꨄ

ʚɞ in moments like these ellie remembers laughing at how her fellow lesbians would fall for their straight friends in middle and high school and end up with broken hearts and broken friendships. and now as she sits across from you and listens to you lament about your boyfriend, she realizes that karma is real and she is totally a bitch.

ʚɞ truly, she has no one to blame, but herself the moment she saw you walk into the record store she worked at she knew that this would only lead to trouble for herself. It was obvious to Dina, who lightly pushed his shoulder and told her to stop drooling and to focus on her work and not fall into another relationship so soon after her catastrophic breakup with cat. she had rolled her eyes at the brunette and assured her nothing would happen, that she’d politely introduce herself, help you buy a product, and never think about or see you again.

ʚɞ god, what an idiot she was.

ʚɞ as soon as she introduced herself, you complemented her tattoo, mention that you had wanted one but were too indecisive about a design and placement. before she can even think of what she wants to say she’s telling you that wouldn’t mind hooking you up with her tattoo artist who could help you decide what you wanted. hell, she wouldn’t mind helping you decide what kind of vibe you were going for when it came to the body art and where exactly on your body would be best to showcase it.

ʚɞ you’re beaming up at her and thanking her, telling her that she really is just too kind. she’s even kinder when she continues to talk to you as she helps you look through the store, helping you decide which record would be best for your collection.

ʚɞ and helping you pick out another record as a gift. for your boyfriend. she can hear dina snicker at the counter all the way from three aisles away, passing it off as allergies when you turn to look at her.

ʚɞ but it’s not like she’s gonna fall for you. she gives you her number, but that’s because she already promised she’d help you with the tattoo stuff. and sure she talks with you for hours the following week and even goes with you to the parlor for moral support, but that’s because she’s a good person! and you even told her she’s a great friend for helping you with this! she’s just being friendly.

ʚɞ soon enough she basically becomes your new best friend. she doesn’t know how it happened really, somewhere between helping you when your car broke down in the middle of the road and having dinner with your parents when they demand to meet the person who’s been taking up an extra chunk of their daughters time. it’s frightening how easy it is to just be with you, to talk to you about any and everything. she remembers it took dina pestering her at work for weeks for them to become friends, and here she is laughing with your dad over roasted chicken after a month.

ʚɞ dina and jesse call her delusional. when the former shows the latter a picture of you on the instagram account you have to ellie he folds over in laughter and tells ellie oh so eloquently that she’s definitely going to fall for you, it’s only inevitable. but she remains vigilant that she wouldn’t do something so dumb. i mean yeah you’re basically exactly her type, like a deity went into one of her wet dreams and plucked the woman she manifested and placed you in the real world, but she was strong. there were plenty of fish in the sea. plenty of gay fish, to be exact.

ʚɞ she tries to go on dates, scrolls through tinder and likes every other attractive viable woman she sees. she even manages to have a few hookups. its really just a coincidence that they have some of your similar characteristics, truly. she’s not actually looking for you in any of these girls, that’d just be weird.

ʚɞ but then it happens. she has a girl over, her leg thrown over her shoulder as she grinds herself into the pretty girl’s cunt. she’s lost in a high after the blunt they’d shared earlier and her heads thrown back as she’s letting out expletive after expletive, and then she does it. she moans your name. she pauses, the girl pauses, and its silent as they remove their entangled limbs from each other and rigidly lay in bed side by side. it hurts even worse than the embarrassment when the girl pats her shoulder with a smile after she’s put her clothes back on, wishing her luck with whatever’s goin on between the two of you.

ʚɞ there’s no point in denying it then. she doesn't even get the chance to keep it to herself, the next day when she’s watching a movie on your couch you poke and prod at her until she reveals what’s got her in such a sour mood. she doesn't tell you the full story, of course, just that something absolutely mortifying happened last night when she was riding some girl. she groans that she didn't even get to finish and that was way worse then what she said, hoping the joke will ease some of the embarrassment she has telling the story and the guilt about passively lying to you.

ʚɞ she doesn't notice how you hips shift in your seat, how your teeth bite at the skin of your lip. she does notice when you question what she meant by riding a girl. she cant help but think about how adorable you are before explaining the position in the nicest way possible. you hum and turn your attention back to the movie and she thinks that's the end of the conversation. but only seconds later you’re asking her to show you.

ʚɞ she thinks she's dreaming. no, she knows she's dreaming. its happened before, weird dreams she has after a strong high where she swears her dreams become all the more vivid and lifelike. it was super annoying the second time it happened, she woke up to a world where she in fact did not win the lottery and get to make out with her celebrity crush. but this is just cruel, she didn't know her brain could be so masochistic. but no, the feel of your hand shaking her shoulder and shyly asking if you’ve made her uncomfortable is real, your big eyes flitting to anywhere but hers is real.

ʚɞ she stutters over her words, asking if you really mean it. and you say yeah, you’d been curious about this anyway. it wouldn't hurt to do it with ellie, you were friends, right? and god what an idiot she was because she’s nodding along like of course, this couldn’t make your friendship weird at all, right? so she gets to work, not doing anything too lewd except for gently pushing you to lie on your back as she maneuvers her body over yours, placing her crotch over yours until she can feel the heat of you through her jeans. she tries not to show a reaction to the sight of you looking up at her, curious and flushed as your hand briefly comes up to rest on her hip. its only when your hips delicately press up into hers that she abruptly removes herself from on top of you, stiffly chuckling before recommending you get back to the movie.

ʚɞ neither of you bring it up again.

ʚɞ it’s so much more difficult to be around you now. before she was resolute in the fact that she was alone in whatever weird feelings she had towards you, but eventually she might move on. but with only a few actions you threw that whole viewpoint out the window. now it was clear that you were interested. maybe not in ellie but in sex with another woman. a small part of her is upset at the fact it might not be her. its only cliche that if you started having these feelings you’d fall for your gay best friend, who the hell else were you thinking about? whatever, that wasn't important.

ʚɞ what was important was what occurred over the next few weeks. it happens slowly but surely, your complaints about your intimate troubles with your boyfriend. now ellie had met the guy before, and it made her feel slightly better that she had a valid reason right from the start not to like him. the man was clearly an ass, looking her up and down the first time they met and giving her a ‘yeah you’re weird’ look that he apparently didn’t think she’d recognize. luckily she didn’t have to see him often, only seeing him in passing when she spent time with you at yours or picked you up to go hang out.

ʚɞ but now his weirdness is apparently front and center. she nearly chokes on her chipotle when you tell her that he questioned why the two of you were spending so much time together, feeling like ellie was going to make a move on you.

ʚɞ and yeah, it was offensive. just because she was a lesbian didn’t mean she wanted to jump the bones of every woman she met. unfortunately that didn’t apply here because she very much did want to jump your bones. not like he knew that. hopefully.

ʚɞ but she doesn’t want to get in the way of your relationship, begrudgingly recommending that maybe the two of you should spend some time apart so he can chill out and realize he’s being paranoid. she’s very happy to hear your quick rebuttal, remarking how you’d rather dump him then spend any more time away from her.

ʚɞ god you are making this so confusing. and it only reaches a head the next time she sees you. you’d texted her to ask if she could come over late at night and obviously she said she would, along with a bag of your favorite drinks and snacks just in case you got peckish. so she’s sitting on the couch as you both eat some shareable m&ms when the topic becomes a bit more…intimate.

ʚɞ she notices your rigid shoulders as you sit stark straight on the couch and laughs about how pent up you must be. your following laugh is awkward as you agree that you have been a bit stressed lately. so she tells a joke, that your boyfriend isn’t up to par in bed. she expects you to laugh and hit her shoulder but you nod your head.

ʚɞ you…nod your head. and then you turn to her, and she’s getting flashbacks to the last time you were this close on your couch. her face is hot as whisper that the past few times you’ve tried to sleep with your boyfriend he, as you eloquently put it, ‘just pumps and dumps’, and brushes you off whenever you bring up the fact that you haven’t had a release. that as much as it ashamed you to say it, once he falls asleep next to you you sometimes find your hand trailing under your shorts and thinking back to her stories of the hookups she told you about, wishing she could show you how all of that felt.

ʚɞ ellie has always liked your bedroom. its soft and sweet, with vines of fake ivy hanging across the ceiling and a large canopy hanging over the bed. you even have an adorable collection of stuffed animals, a few of them gifted to you by her throughout the months of your friendship. all of the little guys have been shoved to the floor now, and for a fleeting moment she things they’re really just going to have to understand before her mind is consumed again with you, how you’re pretty flushed face is staring and moaning up at her as her wrist nearly cramps with how fast her fingers are pistoning into your wet cunt.

ʚɞ you haven’t even touched her and she’s already on cloud nine. your confession nearly made her pass out, and she swore she had died and gone to heaven when you asked her to help you with your problem and grabbed her hand to lead her to your bed. it was like her horniest dream come true to see you undress, to feel over your skin, to lower her head to your pussy and try her best to suck out your soul in the most loving way possible.

ʚɞ she feels her boxers get soaked when you cum around her fingers again, legs wrapping around her waist and head raising to muffle your sounds in her shoulder. she swore she nearly came when you bit into her shoulders, already knowing she was going to look into the mirror later to look at the mark your teeth left on her with a smile. but she didn’t predict for you to be so insatiable, for as soon as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt you’re whining and grinding your hips up into hers, whispering little *‘please, el, need more’*s

ʚɞ “don’t worry, baby, i’ll give you whatever you want. swear once i’m done you’re never even gonna think of that stupid boyfriend of yours again.”

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