#THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS LIKE. WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE A FUCKING SEAL!

[lokh]

my first attempt at krita and. it turns out i cant draw felines from memory

[shadystranger]

What was up with cass fighting for his life to stop dean from rescusing sam (not to mention his almost enthusiastic jumping to move past sam's death) He did NOT have that energy when the roles were reversed

like summin smell fishy and it aint just cass's pussy

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[base0h]

Meeting his parents

a/n - can we please take time to imagine what meeting corazon would be like 😭

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, modern au, (dragon is out getting the milk so garp is here instead)

- garp told him to wait until he was 30 to start dating

- he didn’t listen

- “Luffy I don’t know if I should meet your grandpa if he was against you dating..”

- “Oh trust me! He’s gonna like you! Hehe :)”

- you were nervous- all Luffy’s told you about him was that Garp used to beat him up ALL the time (and he still does)

- as you guys walked up towards his house, you could see two people scurrying away from the window, a blonde guy, and a black haired one

- you were concerned- but didn’t pay much attention, maybe those two were Luffy’s older brothers

- as Luffy unlocked the door, the two boys were waiting there with crossed arms, “Luffy?? Who’s that??” The black haired one asked with an eyebrow raised

- “don’t be mean ace.” The blonde one pushed him away before outstretching his hand with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you! I’m sabo, that’s ace, and we’re Luffy’s older brothers.”

- Aw, sabo seemed like such a polite guy! Very different from Luffy.. Someone cleared their throat, a large figure looking down at you, a shadow covering you. Oh god. Your fate was sealed. Luffy’s grandpa was going to punch the shit out of you, and you weren’t even 18 yet!

- Sabo and Ace looked fearful as they stood off to the side, staring up at their grandpa. The atmosphere was dark, so heavy and intimidating.

- even Luffy wasn’t talking… It seemed as though their grandpa was quite the scary guy-

- you contemplated running away, but from the looks of it, you knew that the man would probably be able to catch you within two seconds

- “Uh… Hi? I’m- y/n… The one that’s dating luffy… Nice to m-meet you.”

- you were stuttering, your hands shaking as your eyes begged his grandpa not to kick your ass to the moon

- “LUFFY.” His voice echoed throughout the neighborhood, you turned around to see the neighbors running into their homes, shutting all the doors and windows

- WHAT THE FUCK? WERE YOU GOING TO DIE??

- Sweat beads formed on your nose and forehead as you clenched your hands into tight fists, praying to god that you wouldn’t get to meet Jesus today

- “Why didn’t you introduce me sooner?! Y/n seems like a very polite person! UNLIKE YOU!” Garp smacked the shit out of your boyfriend angrily before smiling at you, holding his hand out for a handshake

- You were going to faint, you hadn’t been breathing throughout this entire interaction out of pure fear. “It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n! You’re welcome to come inside!” Garp said with a grin, beckoning for you to come inside

- omfg you swore you almost shit your pants. But as the night went on, Garp was actually a very friendly grandpa! (But he beat up ace, sabo, and mostly Luffy the entire night)

- Law was hesitant to bring you over to his house, but you weren’t sure why..

- Was his house messy? Were his parents mean? Or maybe he was embarrassed of bringing you over??

- the thoughts circled your mind, and soon enough, you heard the doorbell ring. You were surprised Law didn’t just open the door himself, but maybe he just forgot his keys

- you swore you heard something breaking apart inside, as well as a thump against the floor that shook the entire house

- um… that wasn’t normal, right?

- law looked annoyed, sighing as he rested his disappointed face in his hands. The door opened, revealing a literal GIANT??

- you had to crane your neck up just to see this man’s face! He bent down to the doorway, and his smile almost blinded you with kindness

- “Ahh! You must be y/n!!! Oh my gosh! I’ve heard so much about you!!” He said, almost bouncing up and down in the air

- oh my gosh- this guy was SO excited. It made you so happy to see that Law’s dad was this happy to see you :)

- “Cora-san, did you break the oven again?”

- “Uh. No.. It was already broken! I swear.”

- poor law, maybe this was why your poor boyfriend was always so stressed. You smiled awkwardly at the tall guy, introducing yourself even though he already knew who you were

- “Law’s been telling me ALLL about you. He talks about you a lot.”

- “SHH! No I don’t!”

- “Oh come on! You said y/n is the most amazing person you’ve met!”

- “CORA-SAN SHUT UP!”

- Aw, Law talked about you?? That was enough to make you blush, “Awww you talk about me???”

- You and corazon were going to be the death of this man, and throughout the night, Corazon asked all about your hobbies and stuff. He wanted to know EVERYTHING. And I mean, literally everything about you

- “Oh my god. So- law still sleeps with his germa figures, you didn’t hear it from me!”

- “OMG REALLY?”

- law will chase Corazon around with a pan to get him to shut the fuck up. But it never worked, you learned many secrets about law that night

- “ALSO HE REALLY LIKES IT WHEN YOU SEND HIM THOSE MUSIC PLAYLISTSSS!! LAW DONT KILL ME!”

- “THEN SHUT UP IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO KILL YOU!”

- “YOU LIKE MY PLAYLISTS?!”

- also quick reminder that Doffy was there and remained quiet the whole time, watching chaos unfold while he sipped his wine 💀

- Ace was so excited to bring you over, he ALWAYS talked about how cool his mom was. He never talked about his dad, but referred to someone as “pops”. Maybe that was his dad?

- “My mom’s going to love you y/n, don’t be nervous!”

- how could you not be nervous??? Ace told you he had 1666 brothers?! Wtf??

- as you two walked up the pathway to his house, you noticed a beat up white van in the driveway… It looked especially good for kidnapping kids- and giving away free candy..

- Ace opened the door, and literally a MOB. I mean a MOB of people crowded around you two with giddy smiles. They were definitely expecting your arrival..

- “Hi y/n! We’re Ace’s brothers :))” -all of them

- ��.wtf

- Ace could tell you were overwhelmed, you looked like you were about to faint! “Ok guys- maybe some space would be nice??” They listened to Ace, and backed off, a woman stepped forward, and she had the same freckles as ace! Must be his mom :)

- “Ah! Y/n! It’s so lovely to meet you.” His mom was so pretty!! She had long pink hair, brown eyes, and the same freckles around her nose and cheeks like ace

- You smiled politely and introduced yourself to Ace’s enormous family. You didn’t see Ace’s pops, but maybe he was just busy

- “I never thought- that someone would fall in love with ace.” *dramatic sniffle* -Marco

- “Huh?! What’s that supposed to mean Marco?!” -Ace

- Ace’s mom took you aside as the two kept fighting, and had a nice little chat. She asked about how you were doing, and what you liked to do in your free time.

- “I’m so glad Ace found you! He really cares about you- and he talks about you all the time! He kept telling me how amazing, kind, and talented you were :) also I’m super grateful for you helping him to stay awake in class… I’ve gotten many parent teacher conferences because of it..” Rouge was such a kind person, and you were so happy that Ace thought you were that amazing

- and yes, Ace did fall asleep a lot in class, so it became your job to wake him up before the teacher did.. It’s helped his grades a lot 👌

- overall, you mostly just chatted with Rouge while Ace’s brothers bombarded him with questions about you

- roger is out getting the milk with dragon btw

a/n - Corazon is totally your law gossip bestie now

[coconutdays]

drunk pt. 2

s. this is part two to this original post! my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. Y'all fuck after one of those intense movie confession scenes yada yada.

w.c. 7.2k

w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , smut! ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) y/n’s cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, I didn't proofread much srry, btw this is my first time executing a fully fledged fuck so bare with me I tried.

You had only minutely interacted with Satoru ever since that day you went cursed spirit hunting with him. It was normal, nothing was weird or out of the ordinary after, but everything seemed so dull in comparison to that day. Although you could say there was less of a chance to speak when he did go overseas for a couple of days. And you were partially grateful that it was like that. You couldn't fret over your feelings for him if he wasn't feeding you anything to reminisce on.

On one of your minuscule interactions with the famed sorcerer, he asked you to take his newbie first years to a cursed mansion while he would be busy scouring Spain for a key that did who knows what.

Which leads to the current situation at hand.

"What happened here?" Yuuji asks, kicking a stray pebble a few feet away and into the bushes

"The owner of this place slit the throats of everyone in the mansion at night, then shot himself in the head." You squinted at one of the far off windows of the mansion, spotting something that would have most likely been a cursed spirit.

"Gross." Nobara's face turns into one of disgust.

"What level cursed spirit does it have?" It's Megumi asking now

You turn to look at all of them, a glint in your eyes.

"Grade 1"

"WHAT?" Nobara stomps her foot, "Why is Gojo sending us out here on sui-"

"I'm here." You laugh, a red flame swirls around your irises, "I'm the second strongest after Gojo. Give me some credit."

"Gojo gives her most of his missions if he suddenly can't do them." Megumi points out, "We're safe."

"Not entirely." You shift your weight onto one of your hips and cross your arms, "I'm here to intervene if things start going south, which I hope they don't, but under the situation it does then I step in."

That was twenty minutes ago, and things had gone south.

You were ambushed by more than one Special grade in the mansion and left the three first-years to deal with a cursed spirit much akin to the one described in the correction facility that lead to Yuuji's death. The others were almost alike to it, but they were starting to speak, forming words more coherently by the minute.

"What the fuck."

There were four surrounding you, and the only reason they weren't going for the first-years was because you sealed them into the top floor with you. You would have rather dealt with this by yourself, considering you had to hold back because the first years were in the floor beneath you, but you'd have to make do with your seal.

Much to your surprise, halfway through your fight, you could hear the sounds of relief from the first-years and one less screeching curse.

Good, they exorcised it.

Both of your hands were busy repelling your opponents away from you as you neared the staircase so they could hear you.

"GO OUTSIDE! NOW!"

"But you're dealing with four of them!" Nobara started, "If you-"

"JUST WAIT FOR ME OUTSIDE! AND CALL IJICHI!"

You could hear Nobara starting to protest, but you could make out the grumbles of Megumi to place trust in you.

When you got a peek through the window of Yuuji's pink hair, you let out a sigh of relief. You didn't have to hold back anymore, but you weren't going to be able to be the one to take the first-years back to Jujutsu Tech after this.

What you considered the cursed energy equivalent of an atomic bomb was what you released within the enclosed top floor. You concentrated on it breaking apart the curses and squeezing them out of existence--much like a bomb would.

However, the aftermath would be something you'd leave the first years up to. You didn't have to hold back within the confines of the mansion, none of the students were in there, but they were directly outside, waiting for you in a position where contact with the explosion would hurt them. The moment you release your technique, the confines the mansion burst, pulverizing the curses out of existence and subjecting you to the sheer force of your cursed energy being concentrated into one subjectively small enclosed space.

Your cursed energy treated you like shrapnel and launched you headfirst into the concrete ground near the first-years. It was the last thing you remembered before everything after started fading in and out.

You were in the back of Ijichi's car, at the center with Megumi and Yuuji on either side, grabbing at your body. Why were they--

Oh, there's gaping wounds on your stomach and legs.

Nobara is frantically turning to look back from the front passenger seat again and again.

"Drive faster Ijichi!"

Maybe you could start using your cursed technique to heal-

"Oh fuck!" Yuuji starts

You start coughing violently into your lap

Was that blood from your wounds or-

"Ow."

It's the first thing you utter when you wake up, feeling an intense soreness all over your body. They're mere action of lifting up a finger sending shock bolts through your body.

"Finally someone's awake." Shoko sighs carelessly, she's on her phone looking through who knows what.

"How long have I been out?" You groan, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for her to say 3 days or something along those lines.

"Two weeks." She gets up and walks to serve you some water as your eyes shoot open, "Constricting a nuclear explosion to only the confines of a mansion was not a smart decision."

You lean up against your pillows and start to rub your sore neck, "The first-years were right outside of the mansion. I had no other choice."

"Still not your best moment." She blinks tiredly, her careless look on her face.

"How are they anyway?"

"Fine. Small cuts and bruises. They were fine by the end of the day. Gojo's got them in the classroom right now."

"He's back from Spain already?"

"He came back the day after the mansion incident. Thought you would've remembered him poking your head to see if you could hear him this morning." She started to write on a chart, probably yours.

"I don't." You start to look through your faint memories to see if it held onto anything like that.

Nothing.

"Well, you should be fine to go home already." Shoko starts to walk out of your room, raising the chart she was just scribbling on moments ago, "You check out just fine. Get some rest before they probably send you on another mission by tomorrow."

By the time you put on some clothes, provided by Shoko, and take a shower at your place to soothe your muscles, it's been a few hours, leaving Gojo to stare at an empty infirmary bed, your scent lingering in the room.

"She woke up a couple hours ago, must be home already." Shoko mindlessly says as she walks back to her office with a stack of folders in her arms.

After your shower, you're on your couch watching a comfort show of yours while you snack on some ice cream to wallow your feelings in. The reason for your being upset quite obvious.

He should've known you were awake by now. Why wasn't he checking on you.

It annoyed you, both the fact that for someone who had been at your bedside this morning, he hadn't shown up to receive you in your awake state, and that you cared so much you started thinking like his girlfriend.

Satoru didn't owe it to you to come see you. He wasn't yours to be obliged and neither were you his to expect it.

But fuck if you couldn't help checking your phone every five minutes to see if he'd text or call you. Hell, you'd love for him to show up announced any moment.

He didn't though.

You went to sleep upset that night--mostly at him--it wasn't his fault for not showing up, but your heart couldn't help but be disappointed by his lack of presence.

You got called in by Jujutsu High to help train the second-years the following day. A mission with five special grades seemed more appealing when you considered the fact that you'd more than likely see Satoru once there.

"Look who's awake."

Gojo is suddenly walking next to you as you lead the second-years to the sparring grounds. He doesn't look in your direction, merely facing ahead, but he has that same unbothered smile on his face--it bugs you.

He releases a handsome chuckle before starting again, "You drool a little when you're knocked out. Did ya know that?"

"No, I didn't, Satoru." You exhale, distracting yourself by looking for a nice spot to have the students duel.

"It's quite--"

"Shut up Gojo, we have to spar."

Both of you turn to see Makki scowling at the object of most people's irritation, including yours. She's ready to fight, earnestly tugging at the straps of her bag of weapons.

"You pain me, Makki," He grins, fixing his posture to walk away, "Alright, then. Learn well from y/n, she's the second best after all."

He walks in the opposite direction from you guys, trying to taste the last breath he inhaled when he was next to you before he had to let it go. It was his own pitiful attempt at basking in your presence rather than letting his inhibitions crumble and grabbing you by the shoulders to ask if you were okay? what the hell were you thinking? he shouldn't have sent you on that mission, he'd apologize if he let that part of himself come through. If. But he won't do that.

The second-years did learn from you. Makki the most, almost coming close to handing you your ass in hand to hand combat after taking in a bit of advice from you. Her semblance in physical fortitude was getting closer and closer to Toji Zenin every day. Nonetheless, the keyword was almost. She almost won and probably could have been closer to that if you weren't so ticked off by Satoru Gojo. You were in such a zone, honed in on the negativity he procured for you by not giving you the attention you wanted, that you barely spoke while focusing on Makki's every move besides giving advice, your usual praise and teasing gone.

You showered after, the heat of the sun and physical exertion making you uncomfortable in your own sweat and forcing you to take the quickest train to your place instead of getting a ride. And you didn't want to come across him again.

The feelings were too much.

It was why you found yourself halfway through a bottle of whiskey, snacking on a charcuterie board you ordered for the fucks of it. You're wearing another set of those "skimpy pjs" as Gojo had put it and staring out your balcony to gaze at the city's night lights.

You just want him so bad.

You want to kiss him. You want to be in his embrace and tell him he the prettiest eyes ever. And he's a womanizer, it chisels away at your heart. God, he's probably tongue deep in a pretty blonde right now. There's tears raining down on your cheeks and you don't bother to wipe them away, choosing to take another swig of whiskey and accompanying it with a slice of prosciutto to tug some of the sharp aftertaste away.

It hurts, wanting him. He just needs to get from you. You need to get away from him. Fuck the friendship, fuck everything.

ding!

There's someone at your door and you're up to check who the hell is at your apartment on a Friday at 1 a.m. like a lunatic. Your guard slightly goes up the closer you get to your door, the idea of someone dangerous being behind the door coming across your mind. There's a patch of goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, suddenly growing alert at your own thoughts as you tip toe to your peep hole.

And of course it's someone dangerous.

"What do you want Gojo." You don't bother to be much curious about it. You want him out of your face.

He's standing in front of you with his stupid handsomeness. That same bottle of whatever he ordered the other night in his left hand and his irritating smirk on his face along with those blacked out glasses. He's wearing black pants and a tight black shirt too, you can even see a sliver of a silver chain on his neck.

You don't see, hear, or even notice it when it happens, but his breath hitches in the quick fire second between your deadpan question of his whereabouts at your apartment and his teasing question at your teary face.

"Aw, you cryin'?" He tilts his head, canines bearing as his lips curve further up.

It makes you want to use his own red, purple, blue, or whatever fucking color of the rainbow on him. He's a complete ass. Satoru Gojo is a waste of your time. He should forget your address, your number, your favorite croissant filling, everything.

You just want him away from you, where he won't hurt you.

"Yes. Insensitive piece of shit asshole!" You shout, grabbing at your door handle.

"Get out of my face!"

You shut your door forcefully and carelessly, paying no mind to your surroundings or neighbors in your drunken haze.

When you turn around, he's already behind you.

The wine bottle is already on your kitchen island and Gojo's towering over you, his eyebrows scrunched just a bit and his eyes continuously trying to analyze you as his irises move back and forth. He had taken his glasses off, they were hanging off the collar of his shirt now.

Your nose twitches a bit, cursing his ability to teleport. The hate you hold for it becoming a heavy pit in your stomach.

"Get out." The twitch in your nose goes off again.

The panic of the situation is startling to Gojo. You look beautiful, the skimpy pink romper you're wearing is all consuming to him, he wants to rip it off and take you to your room. The crying fit you were just having had softened your features and god the little twitch you keep doing with your nose–

And you're angry at him for some reason.

No, he's stupid. It's his fault, you were crying and instead of letting himself worry about you like a normal person, he teased you about it. His own realization makes him scramble to fix his previous statement.

"No–look I'm sorry for asking like a jerk. Why are you crying?" He takes another step closer to you, pressuring you into answering his question.

Gojo was trying to get a physical tell out of you. You had healed from the mission, right? And sparring with the second-years couldn't have left you pummeled. He couldn't see any wounds on you.

He felt the rise of his hand to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him and tell him what was wrong.

No, he can't.

You look up at him defiantly, biting your cheek and beginning to grow angrier, angry at him, angry at your heart, angry at the tears that still manage to flow down your cheeks.

You take a step back and reiterate yourself.

"Get out, Gojo."

There's a linger of hurt in his eyes, along with confusion when his eyebrows scrunch even more. You can see he's at a loss for words when his mouth keeps slightly opening and closing and his eyes look like they're psychoanalyzing you.

You roll your eyes in a teary frustration and stomp your foot like a two year old throwing a fit when he doesn't move even in the slightest to leave.

"Please, Gojo! Just leave!" You cry, voice cracking, "Get out of my apartment, leave me alone, I don't–"

You almost yelp at the sudden intrusion of your personal space. He's got an iron grip on your hands all of a sudden, forcing them out of the way in case you try to push him away physically this time. And he's staring only dead into your eyes now, an overall concerned look on his face that overpowers his slight irritation at your stubbornness.

"Tell me why you're crying."

You try to loosen out of his grip, only for it to do nothing like you knew it would. It forces you to scrunch your nose in distaste and turn your cheek to him.

"I don't want to see you." You mutter, your voice audibly nasally and battered from the crying fit you were having.

Gojo brings you closer to him with a simple tug of his hands, he leans closer to your face.

"Why." His breathing starts to pick up and it sounds less like a question and more like a sound of offense.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you answer me." He tightens his grip on you just a little for emphasis, to show you that he really won't let go until you fulfill his request.

You still don't want to look at him. You can feel his laser like stare at you, pinning you down and pressuring you into giving him what he wants. It's all too much, his touch is searing to your skin and the fact that his body is so close to yours in hazing your mind. It's so much that you have no choice but to turn to finally look at him and it sends you back to the state you were previously in before he rung your doorbell.

You feel the hot wads of tears start to tumble off your waterline as you vomit a singular word.

"You."

He reels his head back a bit in confusion, "What, I–"

"You! I'm crying because of you!" You babble through your hiccups and tears, "And you show up like a jerk! You didn't even care that I was crying! And–"

"What makes you think I don't care about you?" He jeers you closer, his tone obviously offended now.

"Are you getting early dementia or something! You did that stupid aw you crying bullshit!" The situation growing worse as your eyes go completely bloodshot and there's hiccups continuously interrupting your speech.

"You didn't even care that I woke up! Today, you just came by to be a dick about me drooling! Yesterday, you didn't even show up to see me after I left the infirmary!"

His grip loosens a bit at your declaration of mistrust in his care for you.

He cares. He really cares. You can't keep saying he doesn't, he thinks. He left Spain the moment he got an angry text from Nobara that the mission he entrusted to you left you on death's door. He spent every free moment of his walking by or into your recovery room. He walked by your apartment last night to see if you were okay, his eyes had seen you sleeping safe and sound and it was enough to soothe his heart.

None of which you knew about, he realizes.

By now, you've broken free from his grasp, taking advantage at his loss of words, and fleeing to your bedroom. A loud bang followed the small pit pats of your bare feet on the floor, and it brought him back to reality.

Gojo now stares at the front door of your apartment, eyes still glued to where you were previously standing. He feels like his heart is stuck in his throat, unable to come out and run towards you like it wants to out of fear. He can hear his heartbeat pulsating in the cold silence of your apartment and it makes him confront himself instead of you.

You thought he didn't care and it made you upset.

And the mere fact is gut-wrenching for him.

It's so devastating to him, that his feet are suddenly driving him towards your room and his hands are opening the door.

He noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey and glass on your kitchen island as he passed by too. It makes him even more wary as he stands underneath the doorframe and sees you sat at the edge of your bed, head in your hands and violently crying.

"I care about you."

You hear him, but you don't have the energy to beg him to leave anymore or even notice him. You're spent and too embarrassed of your outburst to look at him.

Gojo wishes you could look at him. He wants the security of your eyes being there for him to bask in and it has him walking to kneel on the ground in front of you.

You feel his hands, soft and tough at the same time, pulling yours down, away from your face. It forces you to look down at him. You see the breath he lets out in relief the moment you make eye contact with him.

You're so weak, you can't help but melt into the feeling of his hands on yours now. A salty tear makes its last run on your face and you're nothing but a sniffling and hiccuping mess as you stare back at him.

He speaks again, "I am so sorry."

"Can you please stop touching me." You rasp out, suddenly becoming aware of how much more painful this is for you when he's feeding into youre delusions.

You can feel his blood stop pulsing for some reason. His hands are suddenly dead weight and his eyes widen.

"I can't do this anymore." You breathe out nasally, readying yourself to ruin your friendship with him.

"I love you Satoru."

It comes out heavy, like a massive paper weight on the air both of you were breathing.

And suddenly, he starts to feel his blood pumping again, the hands holding yours beginning to grow firm in their grip. His chest moves up and down even faster as he stares at you because his brain just short-circuited. He thought the inner works of his domain and technique were all he ever had to worry about handling, but this is taking the cake. Infinity and the knowledge it covers is nothing compared to what you just said.

"And–" You have to take a pause to stop the tears brimming on your waterline again, "it really hurts pining after you. I shouldn't be upset at you for not showing up at my doorstep yesterday like a boyfriend would. I wouldn't be if I weren't such a fool for you."

You're harshly wiping a tear off your cheek out frustration before you continue. You try to settle the now free hand away from him, on your lap, but he takes it back, still looking up at you without a trace of a word making an appearance on his mouth.

"I need you out of my life. I want to move on." You plead, "I can't be in the same room as you or else ill think about how bad I want to be next to you. I can't be this close to you and not kiss you. I want to wake up after getting hurt from a mission and not drown myself in whiskey because you didn't show up at my door to check on me."

"No."

Gojo is looking at you like you're an idiot. His face is twisted in a mix of offense and disgust, part of his nose is wrinkled and his eyebrows are twisted.

"Gojo–"

"Stop calling me by my last name." He cuts, eyes now harsh on you.

You're confused now, bleary eyes trying to understand him and how negative he seems right now. You want to say something, but everything you can think of is at the tip of your tongue and you're opening and closing your mouth like a fish on dry land.

Gojo looks like he wants to say something too, and like he knows what he wants to say, but he's struggling to just spit it out as he minimally glares at you. If you squint hard enough though, you might have just been able to see the slight gloss of sadness color over his eyes.

"I don't want you out of my life." He shakes his head, eyebrows still furrowed.

You sniffle, "But I just said that–"

You're pulled down by your hands and your face lands right smack on his, followed by a kiss ensued by him.

The kiss is enough to send you to sleep, it's soothing and everything you need to forget all your worries. And it's a little salty, a byproduct of your fit, but it doesn't seem to matter when Gojo reaches a hand up to your cheek and deepens his reach a little, a low grunt of affection coming from his throat when you let out a sigh.

It was short-lived, but it said enough.

When Satoru pulls back, he's still concentrated on looking for tells on your face, trying to make he got his point across.

"I've been putting you at the back of my mind for the past two years." He confesses sternly meanwhile he caresses both of your hands with his thumbs, rubbing soothing circles in the wake of his words. "I care about you so much I force myself not to." The last few words giving him the inclination to hang his head in shame.

"And I am so sorry it made you cry." He sighs in defeat, raising up both of your hands to kiss them as an apology. He's looking up at you with his big blue eyes, pleading for your mercy and you want to move, you want to act. It's why you lean down and give him a small peck on the lips to wake him up a little then dive back in again to kiss him.

It doesn't last long in that position–merely five seconds–until Satoru starts rising and pushing you back onto the bed softly. He pushes you forward onto the bed to make room for his legs before one of his hands is perched right next to your head and the other is guiding your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist.

Your hands run and grasp at his hair and neck, making sure to appreciate the feeling of his skin beneath your hands.

You begin to moan when he starts using tongue on you and it gets a rise out of him in the form of him grinding his bulge against your crotch.

"Satoru."

"Fuck." He groans, breathing hard as he kisses you. He can't just leave after this. He can't go back to his apartment. Hell he doesn't even know if he could pull himself away from you right now if there were a sudden emergency.

He feels you moving underneath him and he opens his eyes mid kiss to see you moving down the straps of your romper. The action causes him to pull back so he can see what you're trying to do.

"What are you doing?" He breathes, lips rosy and glossy from both of you guys' spit.

You free your arms from the thin pink straps right as he says that and look him in the eyes when you pull the spandex like material below your breasts.

"What I just did." You nod down innocently towards your boobs.

"Fuck. Fuck." He groans, reaching to palm both of them. It only lasts for a second before he starts to pinch at them, rubbing them between his fingers and eliciting whimpers from you.

"Yeah, just like that baby."

It makes move your hips up in search of him and it has him leaning back down to kiss you, needier this time. Satoru includes more tongue than anything, wanting to just be in you, in your skin, everywhere, as close as he can get.

You start to yank at the bottom his shirt soon enough.

"Take this off." You whine

Easily and quickly, he complies to your request, grabbing his shirt by the collar and taking it off of his body. He throws it behind him and is about to lean back down when his eyes go astray towards your crotch.

There's a wet patch very obviously soaking through and he can see the mold of your pussy sticking to the damp material. It makes his cock jump at the sight and he can't help but run a finger across your slit.

It makes a shiver run up your spine and a moan leave your mouth.

"You like that?" He's staring you down when you look back at him after having shut your eyes in pleasure.

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blown wide with lust as you take both of his hands and make him grab the material of your romper. "Take it off of me."

Satoru doesn't need to say anything as he obeys your request. He pulls at your pajamas and helps you slide it off your legs, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation to make any witty or teasing comments.

What wasn't part of your request was when he held both of your legs up in the air by squishing your thighs together and dove straight for your pussy.

You almost scream at the sudden intrusion of him initiating a makeout session with your pussy. The squishing of your legs making the sensation more intense for some reason. You can hear Satoru groaning into you while he sucks on your clit. He shifts his weight so that his arm is wrapped around your legs to keep them together and you wonder why he switches to only one until you feel a singular digit of his sliding into your walls.

" 'Toru." You moan, legs twitching a bit when you feel him hook a finger up and apply pressure to that one spot that has you begging for more.

"Gimme another one, please." You urge, fisting at the sheets next to you for some sort of relief.

"I got on the first flight back the second I heard what happened." He confesses, breath raggedy as he peers over from the side of your legs and gives you the other finger you asked for. His entire lower side of his is glistening, you almost feel embarrassed that it's your juices.

He continues confessing and pumping his fingers in and out of you, the squelching noises accompanying his words.

"I was scared shitless." He almost grieves, a messy confusion of his own sexual energy and his pleading for your forgiveness. Satoru starts to plant a flutter of kisses along your thigh while he keeps his eyes on you. "I love you so much." He groans, extremely turned on by the increasing pulsing of your walls and the faces you keep making.

"Yea? Oh fuck–" The last five words he uttered were adding even more ecstasy to your euphoria and had started to plummet you into your orgasm when coupled with the deeper and faster pace Satoru introduced.

"Come on, pretty. Cum for me." Satoru almost sounds like he's begging, mouth opening in awe in sync with yours at the overwhelming sense of pleasure crashing over you.

It comes out in a long mix between a moan and a whine, along with the wriggle of your hips and legs as Satoru keeps moving his fingers in and out while you ride out your high.

You're heaving when it washes over and you're about to flinch at the overstimulation of Satoru's fingers when he pulls them out and puts them in his mouth. You can see him slightly roll his eyes back when he hollows his cheeks a bit to fully clean his fingers off and get your taste out of them.

Satoru lets go of the grip he had keeping your legs up, and he gets up to quickly take his pants off, followed by his boxers, and–

"You're big." You marvel, sitting up now and admiring the view, also trying to wrap your head around the fact that he's going to hurt. He's pretty and long, reaching a bit past his belly button when it slaps against his stomach, and his girth is scream worthy.

When Satoru looks down, you look so innocent, peering at him through your lashes before focusing your gaze back on his length. He sees your thighs shift against each other–a boost to his ego and his horniness–but he can also tell you're a little freaked out by the sheer size.

"We don't have to." He heaves earnestly, chest rising and falling a bit faster than usual out of pent up sexual aggression from fingering you and watching you cum, and the need to be inside of you right now, which he'd be more than capable of stowing away for now if you didn't feel comfortable taking him.

"We can make it fit." You reassure softly and lean up to tug one of his hands to you in the bed while his eyes widen.

Satoru is in between your legs now, eyeing you down with lust blown pupils, an animal like stare that has you shrinking into the bed the more it lingers. Truth be told, he doesn't know how to act now that he's got you underneath him, legs spread, and your pretty little face waiting for him to do something.

His first move is to kiss you again, he missed your lips in the brief few minutes he was eating you out and fingering you. The kiss makes your skin crawl and pull him closer to you by the shoulders you have your arms wrapped around.

His cock lands right between your lips after that and it makes both of you suck in a breath the contact, a needy grind of both of yours' hips following.

"I want you inside of me 'Toru." You sigh against his ear as he dips his head down into your neck, mouthing and biting.

You feel his grip in the sheets right next to your head tighten and manage to get a view of his large and broad back contorting at the sentence.

"How bad do you want it?" He almost snarls, moving his hips so his cock keeps sliding between your folds, gathering your slick on his shaft and stimulating your clit in the process. His head leans down even further and he's sucking on your nipple, nipping a bit to get squeals out of you for not answering him as fast he wanted you to.

"I want it really bad." You can't stand the pulsating between your legs anymore, your hips can only move towards him for so long before you feel like you'll die. You needily scratch at his back when his other hand pinches your nipple particularly hard. "I feel like I'm gonna die if you don't fuck my pussy right now." It comes out whiny and high-pitched, the overall want for him making you pathetic.

He comes back up with a crazed stare more intense than the last one and dives for your mouth again, aggressive and overwhelming, like he wants to swallow you whole. There's teeth and tongue everywhere, you wouldn't be surprised if your lips were bleeding by the end of this.

When you're caught up in the feeling of his chest on yours and his heavy breathing against yours while you kiss, he starts lining himself up to your entrance. The intrusion of his fat tip in your hole interrupting your ability to kiss and making your jaw go slack.

You start to lift your hips off the bed without thinking and Satoru wraps his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He hasn't moved any further, basking in the invitation of your warmth and giving you time to adjust.

"It's so big." You mutter, hand in his hair and the other holding onto his back for dear life while you look at the rest you have to take.

It's the first time he even so much as smiles a little when he looks up at you and you see a glint of his canines and a glossed over look in his eyes. "Yea?"

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows knitting when he pulls back and inches in a little further with a shallow thrust.

He drops his head into your neck, trying to keep himself from biting the bullet and completely pushing into you in one go. "Fuck." He moans when he thrusts back in again

He picks up the pace a little with every shallow thrust that gets him an inch deeper in you and by the time he's fully in, he's giving you hard and punctual thrusts. You're close to screaming every time he bottoms out, mouth open while you whine and moan. It makes him take advantage and he swallows your noises by shoving his tongue down your throat. He licks at your tongue, almost as if he's trying to wrap around it like you're doing to him.

"Love –hearin' –that –pretty fuckin –pussy –take me." He grunts against your lips, punctuating between almost every word with a sharp thrust into you. The soft squelching sounds reminding him that he's very much inside of you and making a mess of you.

"I–" You struggle to speak, the sex taking away your ability to speak.

And Satoru doesn't care, reaching a hand up to your chin to make you look at him as he keeps pummeling into you. "You what baby?"

The petname only adds to your euphoria, making it even more difficult to respond to him. But he's still got your chin in his hand, and he's not showing any signs of looking away or stopping his pace.

"I–I mmmmm–I love–love you."

His eyes soften a little, still as ravenous considering he's pummeling your pussy for the first time, but they soften just a smidge nonetheless. And he moves the hand holding your chin to cup your cheek, running a soothing thumb as he returns the affection to you.

"I love you too. Fuck you're clamping down so tight. Shit. I love you so much y/n. Don't want anybody else to have you. Oh, god. You make me so fucking crazy."

The hand previously on your cheek is now snaking its way down, stopping until his thumb is rubbing your clit and eliciting porn worthy moans from you at the added stimulation.

"You're gonna make me cum Satoru." You breathe out, high pitched and almost moaning loud enough to wake up anyone within the vicinity of your building

The warning is an incentive for Satoru to lift one of your legs up, letting him reach deeper and keep the same pace that has your pussy doing that familiar chasing spasm around his cock now instead of his fingers.

"Cum for baby." He gasps out, abs flexing as he struggles with his own pleasure. "I know you fuckin can. Please. Please. Please. Need to feel it on my dick."

By the fourth thrust in the new position your stomach drops and your legs are spasming trying to close and fidget, but Satoru's iron grip on you stops it from happening. He keeps fucking you through it, staring at you as he does, making sure to frame the picture of you coming on his cock for the first time in his head for all of eternity.

There's less resistance from you when you fall limp after and just take it. Your legs feel like jelly and fall even more moldable to Satoru's physical requests, letting him push your leg farther back and dig even deeper into you how he wants. You know it hurts, that you're supposed to at least try to push away his cock from molding into you again and again even after you've reached your peak, but it just feels so damn good to hurt this way. All you can do is squeal after every thrust of his. And when you feel his pace grow sloppier and faster, it makes you reach for his neck and hair, roping him into you.

"I'm gonna cum." Satoru's cheeks are rosy and his eyes are glazed over as he looks at you, desperation for his release written all over them.

"Cum for me 'Toru." You whine, eyes almost rolling back from a particular jolt of his hips and leaning up as much as you can to plant a chaste kiss on his bottom lip. "Want your cum to fill me up. I need it so bad."

"Please, 'Toru. Cum in me, please."

It drives him over the edge. He drops his weight on you to kiss you through the stuttering of his hips and jolts of his cum into you. You feel his warmth pooling inside of you and can hear both of you guys' labored breathing after the whirlwind sex you just had.

Satoru's rough and passionate kisses from seconds ago turned into chaste quick ones that he kept stealing from you until he shifted his weight from his palm to his forearm and cupped the side of your face, affectionally moving a stray hair from your forehead.

His sky blue eyes peered down at you, taking in the sight intensely, as if any moment you could try to push him away from your life again.

"You're so beautiful." He breathes in awe, gaze turned soft.

"So are you." You replicate his tone, cupping his face in return and appreciating the fact that he looks so pretty and handsome in the moonlight seeping through your floor to ceiling windows right now.

He grabs at one of the hands on his face and brings it to his lips, placing a warm kiss atop of it.

"I was here last night." He confesses, "I passed by your apartment to see if you were fine while you were sleeping." He wants to look away in shame. "I didn't think– There was–"

Satoru closes his eyes in frustration for a second at himself before finding his footing again.

"I've been doing everything I can to be there for you without you knowing, without me knowing, I didn't even know I was going to spend the entire day with you that other day until my mouth found a reason to make it about work."

He sighs at himself before he continues, "I care."

"I spent every moment I could waiting for you to wake up. I checked on your apartment to clean it. I looked for your cursed energy anytime I was within a vicinity of the school to see if you were recovering. I care."

You're close to speechless at his confession, resisting the urge to pull him down and litter his entire face in kisses, instead forcing yourself to speak.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." You return sheepishly, feeling bad for the tantrum you threw at him.

"It's fine." Satoru reassures, planting a kiss on your forehead before looking down at where the two of you are connected. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." You bite your lip sweetly, letting a little bit of your love fueled smile come through while you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer in your embrace. "I could never cum like that by myself."

Satoru leers over you like a predator now, a full smile showing through and distinctly premiering his canines, his ego was stroked, "Good thing I'm here now then."

"Mhm" You nod eagerly, matching the upturn of his lips too.

"Oh. Come here." He groans and laughs a little, a hand on your back when he flips the both of you over and litters your face with kisses. Your giggles fuel him and he pulls you closer to him.

Neither of you are going to let go again.

[hairmetal666]

Steve

Asking Eddie to move to Indy with him and Robin is the most natural thing in the world. After Vecna they became SteveandRobinandEddie, so it just made sense to live together.

Everything is perfect.

It changes one night, at their favorite gay bar. He and Eddie nurse a couple of beers at a hightop, while Robin dances with a cute blonde. Steve half-heartedly shimmies along to the Madonna song pumping through the speakers. Eddie watches him vamp to Material Girl with a look in his dark eyes that Steve can't quite read. It's not the usual fondness he's used to from his friend; too dark and too serious. It makes him nervous.

Eddie drains his drink, mouths the word "bathroom," at Steve, then disappears in the crowd.

Steve sips his own beer, letting his attention drift until he finds Robin, still dancing with the blonde, looking like she's having the time of her life. He expects Eddie back at any time, only--ten, fifteen minutes pass with no sign of him.

His eyes start scanning the crowd in earnest, desperately seeking familiar leather and denim and long dark hair. Anxiety builds in his chest, a dull sizzle beneath his skin.

He finally spots a set of leather-clad broad shoulders towards the back of the room. Eddie has one hand braced against the brick wall, pressed up nice and close to someone Steve can't quite make out.

There's bile in Steve's throat, nausea clenching at his stomach. He shouldn't look; he can't tear his eyes away.

The person is revealed in a flash of light from the dance floor. He has an All-American jaw, swoopy dark blond hair, and is wearing a grass green sweater. The closest thing to Indiana golden boy in the place, second only to Steve.

Room suddenly spinning, Steve struggles to catch his breath, but gives up entirely as Eddie closes the remaining distance between himself and the mystery man, sealing their lips in a searing kiss.

Steve watches, feels himself breaking apart piece by piece. He thought--he thought they were something. Becoming something. All their late night talks and casual touches. He'd been working up the courage to make a move for weeks, and now--

Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe Eddie breaks the embrace and gives an embarrassed chuckle before he comes back to Steve, only he doesn't. The kiss ends, sure, but then Eddie is taking the guy's hand, leading him down the hall towards the bathrooms.

Hands clutched in his hair, Steve sinks into a crouch. He pants, huffing like he just ran sprints, can't catch his breath. Tears dance at his lash line, threatening to fall. He can't have a panic attack now, here. Doesn't want Robin to see; doesn't want Eddie--

It's all too small, too tight, too loud, and Steve shoves his way outside. He rounds the building before sinking to the ground, hands shaking.

He waits outside until Robin and Eddie emerge from the club, both flushed and sweaty. He doesn't speak to either of them and they spend the drive in silence.

When they get home, he goes straight to his bedroom.

"Ste--" Robin calls, but he lets the door shut behind him. He doesn't think it slams.

Eddie

Steve hasn't spoken to him in weeks. Not since that night at the bar. When Eddie hooked up with a guy and he's pretty sure Steve knows; pretty sure it's why they're no longer on speaking terms. Eddie keeps meaning to confront him. He really does. It's just--it'll change everything, and his life was finally going okay for once.

He reaches his limit when he joins Steve in the kitchen before work, and the guy literally, visibly flinches away from him. It hits Eddie like being punched in the dick.

"What the fuck, Harrington." Eddie's voice is too loud in the small space.

"S-sorry, I'll just get out of your way." Steve's eyes don't stray from his own hands.

"I hook up with one guy and now can't even bear to touch me?"

"What? Eds that's not--"

"Don't lie to my fucking face."

"I wouldn't. Eddie, please--"

"I can't believe that this is the last vestige of King Steve. Can say you're cool with me, but when you see me do gay shit, you can't hang? Fuck you. I'm done. I'll be gone by the weekend." His voice stays remarkably steady, even though he's pretty sure not even the bat bites hurt this much.

"Christ, Munson, I'm not freaked out cause I saw you do 'gay shit.' I don't care." Steve's looking at him now; his little mouth held tight and mad.

"Like hell you don't. You haven't spoken to me since it happened."

"Not because I'm homophobic, asshole."

That makes Eddie laugh, shrill and mean. "Oh yeah? Then why."

"It doesn't matter." Steve yanks his hand through his hair.

"It does to me."

"Just drop it. You don't have to move out. I don't care who you fuck."

"You can barely stand to look at me!" Eddie shouts; doesn't mean to. "What if I bring someone home, huh? How are you gonna cope with that, knowing I'm fucking a guy in the next room?"

"It should have been me," Steve screams.

Neither of them move in the ringing silence that follows. Eddie's throat is tight.

"Wh-what?" He manages.

"Forget it." Steve turns to go. "Just--forget I said anything."

"Steve." Eddie follows him into their living room. His heart's beating all funny. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing," Steve's face is leached of color; his eyes too bright.

"Please? I want to understand."

Steve laughs a little, looks absolutely miserable. "I saw you. With the guy. And he...he looked like me, right? And I don't understand why I'm not good enough."

Eddie swallows hard. "You don't--you're not--I didn't think you were a choice. For me."

Steve's chin drops, anywhere but on Eddie. "Yeah. Well. Surprise." He doe a pathetic flourish with his hands that clenches at Eddie's heart.

"Ah," is all Eddie can manage. The world is shifting under his feet, tectonic plates realigning as he processes Steve's words.

"It's--it's fine that you don't feel the same way. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to like me, and I--I was trying to get over it. I didn't want to--"

Eddie can't stand to listen to another word. He crosses the distance to Steve. "Shh, sweetheart. It's--just. Stop okay?"

Steve is looking up at him now, doe eyes wide.

He laughs, genuine this time. "Stevie. I've had a crush on you for years. Years. I used to make the guys go with me to Starcourt. I told them it was because I liked seeing King Steve laid low. Really I just liked how you looked in those little shorts." Steve giggles, face blushing such a pretty pink Eddie almost forgets what he's saying.

"It only got worse when I met the kids, with how much they talked about you. And then I met you for real? Pssh," Eddie waves his hand in the air. "Gone. No hope for Eddie Munson when you're--you're so pretty and bitchy and brave and hot, Steve, and I'm the weakest man in Indiana.

"That night. That guy. It was--I'd just overheard you and Robin talking about a cute girl, and I realized that I had to stop doing that to myself, pining over a straight guy who could never see me like I wanted. I decided that I'd try to pick someone up, force myself to see you just as a best friend."

Steve's face falls impassive. "Did it work?" He almost whispers.

"Not even close, baby," Eddie whispers back. "I'm hopeless for you."

[zvezdacito]

A Different Perspective on the Raverne -> Crowley theories, who to trust and a way of tying it to the themes of the story

Preface: This isn't really gonna be a super serious compilation of solid proof, symbolism or anything, more like just me yapping abt something I happened to randomly think of yesterday and thought "it would actually be kinda interesting from a writing standpoint if this is the thing they go for instead of what everyone was expecting". Kind of long but I promise it will be at least interesting AU material if anything so just bear with me lmao

Ok so basically so far the general trajectory of theories is something bad happened to Raverne while he was missing that made him into Crowley who is doing some kind of evil scheming that will disregard the safety of his family and students sooner or later. Generally Raverne is the good self while Crowley is the fucked up self, and it would probably be better if Raverne was here instead of him

But what if it's actually more like the other way around. That Raverne is the one we should be looking out for, and Crowley is the trustworthy version of him this entire time?

What if everything Raverne went through made it inevitable for him to snap and be vengeful and do evil shit so Crowley is basically his sane self's last ditch effort to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone and ruin people's lives, basically using the goofy Crowley personality to suppress and forget the vengeful Raverne personality

Like the "Raverne's soul got fractured and split into pieces and the pieces that remember his past are sealed away" theories, but instead of usual reasons it's him who sealed them away ironically to remain as true to his original self as possible, than if it remained and he turned into someone violent and hateful against his own principles.

I feel like it would be even more of a twist since they keep emphasizing how kind and peaceful Raverne is so I don't think neither Meleanor, Lilia nor the audience would expect the OG Raverne described that way to actually turn out cruel and untrustworthy who the seemingly suspicious and cowardly Crowley was actually trying to manage the whole time

Also it would kind of be more straightforward as to why he would choose to forget Lilia and Malleus than if Crowley was fucked up Raverne and forgot them even though his goal would be to revive Meleanor and his old life with them anyway

It's hard to tell right now but Crowley despite his goofiness doesn't really seem to harbor any malice against anyone, nor would he be the type to seriously blood sacrifice any of his students, even if he does abandon them sometimes. In this new context maybe it would even make sense if he abandons them so the subconcious Raverne doesn't try to find opportunity to break out/cause trouble through blot and magic related situations?

So yeah it would be cool if it turned out Crowley was the "good" version of Raverne all along, and Raverne overtly and subtextually is just trying to gaslight the audience into distrusting Crowley so they can set a chain reaction of events going to unseal him so he can do whatever he wants to

Also Crowley probably knows he has to keep Raverne locked away no matter what but also doesn't dare try to remember what Raverne remembers because that would go against the whole point of keeping Raverne locked away in the first place. His memory of his past is just puzzle pieces w/o the bigger picture. He has to be atleast partially aware that he has to not give in to the voice in the back of his mind for the sake of others

Like he knows he had to leave behind a family behind and forget them so he would not hurt them, but he doesn't exactly remember who anymore which is why he isn't really flinching or anything when around Malleus and Lilia at NRC

Though I feel like him suppressing Raverne lowkey also took a toll on his mental state. So they actual conclusion would for him to basically symbolically stop suppressing his trauma in an attempt to be a perfect victim because it's not working either way and the only way for Raverne to rest in peace is if he finds closure. Whatever that may be.

Maybe if Yuu and co. find out they encourage him to do this to his surprise basically saying "Don't worry headmage we'll beat the shit out of evil Raverne for you if he goes out of control (you are so annoying so we've always wanted to do this)"

The reveal and Crowley needing to stop supressing Raverne in his subconcious to let him process what he should have would make sense, since it would also tie in to the overarching theme around the overblots:

That even though they're ugly and hurtful manifestations of trauma they need to play out so the OBer can finally grow as a person instead of bottling it all up and being in denial

And also so they can finally come to terms with something that happened to them even if they can't change it

^ Accidentally sort of also combined this with the "Crowley's mask is hiding the fact that he's in a paused state of overblot that he just managed to sorta control" theory. Maybe overblot is what he had to stop Raverne from devolving into in the first place

↑ This ties back to my HC for Raverne's personality being a natural coward and not as battle-oriented but tries to be strong, as he sees Meleanor and Lilia to be as well as making the most out of the skills the does have (using cowardice and sensitivity to be a master diplomat and educator instead) so he can feel like he has the right to continue to stand by their side. Maybe he didn't even care much for being considered kind until that's what Mel and Lilia saw his actions as instead of weak or foolish, that being what made him want to work on that newly defining trait of his now

Lilia at one point mentions that even tho Raverne tries to perform honor student he could be as picky of an eater as Meleanor was and Lilia would have to eat his spare food too

Adding to the possibility Raverne was always the type to make twice an effort to be 'kind' and strong to compensate for his nature that he sees as inherently lacking. This is also probably why he'd be super harsh on himself as Crowley

Oomf also suggested that this may add a layer to why his catchphrase ended up being "For I'm so gracious". As if to remind himself to keep up the effort to be such because he fears his natural state is one that isn't, as well as him encouraging himself to always be forgiving so Raverne doesn't gain the upper hand from his subconcious

↑ Ok so I don't have the brainpower to paraphrase this too so I'll just copy paste what I talked to another oomf about here because it's also interesting

That's pretty much it, hope the general idea and effect was conveyed properly🔥🔥🔥 I don't think the exact details need to be followed since it probably has a bunch of holes itself, but the general gist of Crowley being the more positive side of Raverne instead of the expected inverse all along + it making more sense as to why Raverne would be motivated to forget + tying into the themes of overblotting and trauma would be interesting I think. Kind of a clever misdirection. All of this is not super substantiated though since even now we barely know anything about either Raverne or Crowley, so really only time will tell. Personally kinda got attached to this direction for Crowley's character so I hope they go with something adjacent to the heart fo it at least

The other option is he's not Raverne at all and we're racking our brains over this for no reason lmao

[anonymous-dentist]

Part Ten of the Catboy in the Village AU

Part One | Part Nine

-

The queen breaks the news to them at the breakfast table as soon as she's finished eating. She wipes her mouth daintily with a napkin, pushes her empty bowl away from her, snaps her fingers, and smiles as a guard pulls out a familiar-looking envelope from beneath his cloak and hands it to her.

Roier almost coughs up his eggs. His eyes go wide and his fork scrapes against his plate and he stops breathing and he suddenly breathes too hard while chewing and he doubles over and covers his mouth to keep himself from spitting his food up in shock.

Cellbit immediately drops his own silverware and raises a hand to rub Roier's back. Roier shrugs him off, getting himself under control pretty quickly, but Cellbit's hand remains on his back, and Roier lets it stay there.

Slowly, the queen opens the envelope; its seal has already been broken. She makes direct eye contact as she does so, her face perfectly flat.

That's Roier's handwriting on the envelope. And inside is the princess' notebook paper with a message written in Cellbit's messy scrawl. The message was coded, and the address was encrypted, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about.

...Right?

Unless-

The queen clears her throat, raises the letter so that she's looking at it, and reads: "'As someone experienced with the culinary nuances of human flesh, I have decided that it's absolute dogshit when cooked. I prefer to taste the blood, as it adds a bit of spice to what would otherwise be pretty bland.'"

Her nose wrinkles, her entire face screwing up in disgust. Good. Just as planned.

"'However'," she continues, "'I have discovered the value in different types of meats. Bear meat is still my favorite, but I have grown to like rabbit meat as of recent. Something about it reminds me of my childhood, I'm sure you know why. The taste of cooked rabbit paints a picture of warfare and bloodshed, and the nostalgia makes it taste even sweeter.

'Rabbit cooked in a mushroom sauce is better than you'd imagine, though I know that we both can't really do mushrooms anymore.

'Try it out and let me know how you like it. Was it good? Bad? I can adjust the recipe.'"

Lowering the letter, the queen folds it up and calmly places it on the table in front of her.

Cellbit glances at Roier out of the corner of his eye.

Roier just smiles, closed-mouthed, and gets himself another forkful of egg. The way he's holding his fork, though, and his knife is... dangerous. He's ready.

And then the queen smiles, leaning back in her seat with her hands clasped in her lap.

Cellbit picks up his fork and holds it just a bit too tightly. His knuckles go white.

Suddenly, the queen stands from her chair and picks up her bowl and chucks it clear across the table with a screamed, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

Cellbit yelps and falls to the side out of his chair, hand on his head to keep his hat on, the bowl whiffing past his face so close that bits of berries drag across his cheek and leave a mark behind.

He tries to get back up, but he's stopped by a guard rushing forward and putting a heavy armored foot on his back. He hisses and struggles and squirms, ears laying flat under his hat.

He fights twice as hard as he hears Roier shout. His head whips to the side just in time to watch Roier get manhandled out of his chair and forced to drop his makeshift weapons, his arms getting pinned behind his back by four entire armored guards.

"You attacked my daughter?" the queen demands.

On the floor, Cellbit can't see anything of her but her feet as she gets out of her chair and storms over to their side of the table.

Cellbit bares his teeth as she approaches. She does the same in return, ears twitching angrily.

"It was just a little blackmail," he taunts.

"She is a child!" she snaps.

"Yes, and?" Roier asks. "So what?"

Her gaze snaps towards him, and her face darkens.

"You," she spits.

A second guard has to run over and pin Cellbit as the queen storms towards Roier and slaps him across the face loud enough to echo throughout the room.

Roier just blinks and takes it. The side of his face is red and angry, and Cellbit feels red and angry.

"She cried because of you," the queen lowly says, body shaking in anger. "Did you really think that she would keep this from me?"

Roier shrugs. "I mean... yeah?"

Cellbit accidentally lets out a pained yowl as the second guard on him digs their armor into an older wound on his lower back, one that never really healed after prison.

For whatever reason, the queen turns her head to glare at the guard.

"What are you doing?" she huffs. "Don't hurt him."

Cellbit blinks up at her in disbelief. "You just threw a bowl at me!"

"And you have a thick skull. It wouldn't have hurt you."

At that, Cellbit starts struggling even harder. He used to be able to fight off an entire gang of men at once, what happened? How are two people holding him down like this?

"Kids lie," Roier loudly says, trying to bring the attention back to him, the idiot. "Kids suck!"

And it works. The queen turns back to him, face slowly reddening.

"Empanada is an angel," she says.

"She's a fucking stalker!" Cellbit argues, trying to bring the attention back to him. "And you're making her do it. So what does that make you?"

And it works. The queen turns back to him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. She's been following me for weeks. Basically since we got here! Because you're making her."

He scoffs, "Child labor, really? Even I don't make my kids help in the store."

"I do," Roier comments.

Cellbit nods. "He does. But I don't, and I'm the cannibal here, so..."

The queen just shakes her head. "No... what? First, you aren't, and, second, I haven't told her to do anything but stay away from you, and-"

"Okay, fuck you," he interrupts, "I am a cannibal. Didn't you read the letter?"

"Yes, and that's how I know you're lying. But listen, I haven't told Empanada to do anything to you!"

"Yeah," Roier agrees, "except follow us!"

"Invisible," Cellbit adds. "And her potions aren't even properly mixed! Do you know how dangerous that can be? She's going to wake up dead one of these days, and it's going to be all your fault."

The queen groans and puts her face in her hands. She breathes, shoulders rising and falling dramatic with every breath.

"I told her to stay away from the cauldron," she murmurs, so quiet that it's likely that nobody but Cellbit can hear her. "She's too short. She hates the smells. She can't reach. What the fuck?"

Sensing a weak moment, Cellbit smirks and says, "I knew you think I'm the wrong person."

Lowering her hands, the queen frowns and asks, "What?"

He shrugs. "Why else would you be hiding your daughter, a-k-a my niece, from me unless you think I'm the wrong guy. If I'm supposed to be her long-lost uncle, wouldn't you have introduced me to her immediately? Unless you don't trust me, because you think I'm not your brother, because I'm not your brother."

Roier 'OOOOOOOOOH!'s. As does one of the guards holding him, who gets shut up immediately by another guard.

The queen just stares. She stares for a long moment before sighing and saying, "My daughter asked me to keep you away from her. She said that she didn't want to get cooties."

Roier blinks. "What the fuck is a cooties?"

The queen waves her hand dismissively. "It's a girl thing, you wouldn't get it. But-"

Cellbit cuts her off with a shake of his head: "No, no. She told us that you told her to stay away from us. We aren't supposed to know that she exists. Because you wanted her to spy on me!"

"Why would I want her to do that?" The queen throws her arms into the air in frustration. "Why would I even spy on you? I did that before you even came here!"

"Aha!" Cellbit shouts, wiggling an arm free so he can point at her. "You did spy on me!"

"And you still are!" Roier accuses. "You stole our mail, what the fuck?"

The queen rolls her eyes. "Because you blackmailed my daughter? If you wanted to send a letter, you could have asked."

"Uh, and then what?" Cellbit sneers. "You follow it until it gets to the other person and you kidnap them, too?"

"Oh, I don't need to follow it to do that," the queen simply replies.

She smirks slightly, arms crossing as she leans back against the table.

"Who do you think taught you encryption in the first place?" she asks. "And your code sucked. The cannibalism was a good distraction, but it was too ridiculous. Searching your home weeks ago showed that your youngest child's favorite animal is the rabbit and your other child likes cows. Your children were growing mushrooms in a window garden. There were art supplies throughout the apartment. It was all obvious."

Cellbit's heart clenches.

The queen just smiles.

Her attention quickly moves away from him, though, as a messenger runs into the room out of breath.

"An update, your highness," the messenger wheezes. "The team has completed its search of Mr. Halo's home."

Roier freezes.

Cellbit stops breathing.

No.

"And?" the queen asks, frowning.

After a moment, the messenger answers:

"There are no signs of the children there. Evidence shows that they had never even arrived."

Roier's knees buckle beneath him. The guards holding him all shout and rush to keep him upright as he faints in their arms.

The queen raises a hand to her mouth in shock. She immediately turns to Cellbit, pale, but he doesn't see her. Not really.

He stares blankly into the space ahead of him as the queen drops to her knees by his side and talks. He doesn't hear a thing besides the beating of his own heart.

They had never even arrived.

[doki-doki-imagines]

author note: @kenruu told me this idea couldn't stay in the dms and I wrote it. I'm really sad thanks to uni so I can't really say if this is good or not. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Sae is a man with a precise objective, being the best midfielder in the world. “It’s simple” Sae thinks, he has the talent, works hard, it’s obvious he’ll be able to do it, and his mind never wavers. Football is his whole world, his only thought.

Then Sae met you, and it’s not like his world changed, he kept training and winning, just, this time, in a little chink of his brain you started to grow, filling that little space with info of you.

“They would like this” “If they saw this their reaction would be so cute” it doesn’t happen often to be thinking of you, but when it does a dumb smile plaster on his face.

Until it’s not a seldom thought, but it becomes relentless, a thrum he can’t brush away, and honestly? Sae wants to vomit.

Sae hates it, every time he imagines your face his chest roar, and he can hear the blood rushing to his face, every time he thinks he’s gonna pass out like a fool on the ground.

At first, it was something happening only inside the closed door of his mansion, maybe you sent him a cute video or just told him about your day and Sae was fine with this; he can look like a dumbass fool in his own house, but not on the field.

Sae can’t stop thinking of you, football isn’t his main objective anymore and for the first time he feels weak, football is his entire life, he is nothing without that; damn chink and damn your smile, your cute face your fucking entire being.

And it doesn’t matter how many times the red hair hits his head against the cement wall of the stadium, hits it hard enough to break skin and leave blood, he can’t get you out of his mind.

“Sae, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but if you want to play the next match you need to pull your shit together.” His coach told him after the umpteenth missed cross.

Breath gets stuck in his throat, Sae feels like he just got stabbed in the heart; he must put a stop to this situation.

“Get out!”

“I’m coming Sae, did something happen?”

This is why he is now in front of your house, 3 hours before the match starts with blood in his eyes, and fists tight on his sides.

“Tell me you hate me.” Your eyes widened, this looks serious.

“Sae you know it isn’t-“

“I’m in love with you and- Shut up! Don’t you dare open your mouth, let me finish-“ He has his teeth bared, index finger up pointing at you “And you have to reject me, I can’t go on like this.”

It’s like a cold shower, for sure not what you expected to hear on a normal Thursday afternoon.

You keep your lips sealed, you can see in his irises a little quiver, but he keeps looking at you straight in the eyes, his index now down, hand moving like he wants to throw something on the ground, maybe a thought he preferred to scrap instead of voicing it.

“Please, I need you to reject me” He shuts his eyes, and curl his nose in his typical disgusted expression, you notice small tears hanging on his reddish lashes now rolling down his cheeks, bottom lip wounded, red by the incessant bit of his canine.

You never saw him so desperate, so vulnerable, if you listened closely you could hear cracks every time he tried to speak up.

“Are you even listening to me” Sae's voice is harsh, as always, but there is no bite in his words. You take a step closer and constrain every muscle of your body to stay there, don’t move.

Crack.

“I need to concentrate on football, there is my entire life at risk here-“ A sigh breaks his phrase, and you feel your heart cracking “I-I don’t want to like you anymore” he brushes his little fringe back, arms moving around and feet moving back and forth without making a real step; he looks so nervous.

Crack.

Your breath itch, you feel your heart in your throat, not because of his words, but for how desperate he sounded; you don’t want to hear him like this ever again.

You get closer.

“Fuck, say something! Don’t just look at me with those dumb puppy-” You sprint, your hands reach his jaw, your fingertips are so soft and Sae's lips change into an ugly, wobbly grimace, eyebrows furrowed.

Your lips press on his, it’s fast and delicate, if he closed his eyes he wouldn’t have seen it. You pull away, but don’t put space between your bodies, lips a whisper away from each other.

“I’ll be the one-“ one of your hand leave his jaw to brush away some red hair that sticks on his cheek “to bring you to victory, let me work my magic” He is looking at you dumbfound, his irises wobbly.

You kiss him again, but this time you grip the back of his hair to push him into a more forceful kiss.

Crack. He feels like something in his heart break, everything hurt and his hands tingle so much they hurt. Something must have been broken.

Sae this time reciprocates with equal, if not even more, passion, his hands finally find peace on your back, low on your back, pushing your body impossibly close to his.

You break the kiss, breath heavy a string of saliva still connects your mouths, you are fast at removing it.

“Go and win that match.”

Sae nods, a dumb smile plaster on his face, but you can barely see it as he laid his head on your shoulder. He kisses you again, just a simple press of lips, and runs back towards the stadium, new life on his legs reinvigorated more than ever.

“Maybe loving you and football can coexist in my head” He thinks.

For sure that night your magic did work.

[autumnmobile12]

Villain Deku AU

Most of the time when I see the Villain Deku AU, he's often crazy, and while I do love that concept, I really want to see more sarcastic, cinnamon roll 'Moxxie from Helluva Boss' vibes.

Shigaraki: And that's the plan, any questions?

Deku: Uh, yeah, what was that?

Shigaraki: That wasn't a question, Deku.

Deku: That wasn't a plan.

...

Remember my League of Morons vs A Summer Camp post?

Deku can fix that.

Shigaraki: All right, smart ass, you think you can do better?

Deku: I actually can. Your first mistake is attacking the second night of the camp. Let them all have their summer camp fun. By the end of a single week of non-stop, hardcore training, they'll be exhausted and less likely to fight off a surprise attack efficiently. Now, before the camp begins, we'll need Spinner to drive out there. You're the only one of us who hasn't committed any significant crimes yet.

Spinner: Why is that important?

Deku: *smiling cheerfully* Because you're a civilian. The Wild, Wild Pussycats aren't going to think it's weird if a civilian drives up to their base asking for directions through the mountains. Just make sure you have nice, dead battery for your cell phone. Ooh, or you could park on the road with a low tank of gas and walk up to their base! That'll sell it.

Spinner: Sell what?

Deku: You're getting the exact coordinates of the building for Kurogiri, of course. Once we have that information, he can open warp gates beneath our target while he's asleep and let gravity do the rest.

Kurogiri: You suggest we strike at night?

Deku: Right. You want to kidnap Kaachan, so we do it covertly while everyone's asleep. After that, if you really want to send a message to the heroes, we can always seal up the doors and windows, then Mustard can gas the building. Or Dabi can burn it to the ground. Your choice. Painless death in their sleep or painful death by fire?

Dabi: ...holy fuck, that's insane.

All-For-One: *through the computer monitor* Intriguing proposition, Deku. I suppose you have a back-up plan in case something goes wrong.

Deku: About that, it's entirely possible one of the Pussycats or UA teachers will be on look-out and if that's the case, Eraserhead will be the biggest obstacle. Most of you rely extremely heavily on your Quirks. We'll have to work on that, but in our current time frame, doing so before the summer camp is not feasible. So we'll need to remove the one player who can nullify Quirks. That'll be Mr. Compress's job.

Compress: And how exactly will I do that?

Deku: You'll hit him with a surprise attack. Kurogiri will open a warp gate for you, and the second he does, then you strike. Simple.

Muscular: Yeah, and what about the rest of us?

Deku: You'll be on standby in case Compress fails or draws too much attention to himself. Now about our hostage situation...do we really want Kaachan?

Kurogiri: What do you mean?

Deku: Well I know Kaachan. Despite his violent tendencies, he does have a strong sense of justice and he won't be easy to corrupt. Might I suggest taking the heteromorph students instead? Given society's discrimination problem against what they call the 'non-human' types, they've already got a reason for dissatisfaction with how they've been treated since they were born. Oh, and we should take Yaoyorozu Momo, too.

All: ....why?

Deku: She's rich. Her Quirk is infinitely useful, of course, but even if we can't convince her to join the League, her family will pay us a hefty ransom to get her back. For the record, so will Endeavor if we abduct his youngest son, too. Or we could just ransom the oldest one if all else fails.

Dabi: How the fuck did you know?!

Deku: ...Todoroki Touya allegedly burned up in a massive forest fire and the body was never found. You have a fire Quirk and horrific, full body burn scars and are the age he would have been today. It's not rocket science.

Shigaraki: ...this brat just hijacked my entire plan.

...

He'd quickly become the Bilbo Baggins of LoV, the one who's solving all the problems right up until they get to the fight with Gigantomachia, at which point he says, "No, I'm not helping you this time. He's gotta respect you, this is your quest. I'm not the fighting type, so I'll just sit back and watch." Proceeds to sit quietly and take notes while observing the fight.

Dabi also wasn't helping out with that fight, so every now and then he checks in on their progress. He just shows up, mildly entertained and mostly annoyed by the collective ineptitude (not that he's any better,) and he walks up to Deku.

Dabi: So how many ways have you thought of to defeat him?

Both: *duck as Spinner goes flying over them*

Deku: ...47. How's that recruitment process going? Because you're starting to look way more useful as a bargaining chip for ransom.

Dabi: Says the guy who's just sitting here.

[crazylittlejester]

Opinion time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(also Timeline Talk 1):

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

[ciphykiss]

< incubus (ii) >

blade x f!reader; implied nsfw (only un-explicit part), mdni (implied) somnophilia

a/n: second part of incubus, but stave off the thirst for now XD

“Declined.”

You blink, once, twice, dazed—you count every checkered tile in your peripheral vision, wondering if you’d misheard. Bewildered, you straighten from your previously bowed stance, head tilted to the side. Jingyuan pays you no mind, bent over a fortune scroll stamped with Master Diviner Fuxuan’s insignia. Behind him, Yanqing can only stare, wide-eyed.

“Excuse me?”

Those infuriating, once captivating (but now more serpentine than anything else) golden eyes peer up at you, unperturbed. “Upon careful evaluation, it has been deemed that [Name] of Cloudford’s maximum security detention center is to remain deployed at her post indefinitely—until the case of the stellaron hunter is sealed and closed.”

“By whom?” You demand, fists clenching the fabric of your dress. “‘Indefinitely’? Exactly how long is that? This is ridiculous, and against the very rights printed on Section 35 of the Luofonian Codex—”

“By me.” Jingyuan rests his scroll atop his checkerboard. “And I’m sure you’re aware by now, but the Codex also states every Arbiter General is free to exempt and circumvent said articles when deemed necessary.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hiss, slamming your hands over the table; you see Yanqing bristle, hands cleaving for his sword, and Jingyuan has to raise a hand to temper his retinue that had, no doubt, risen to their feet and aimed rifles at your head. You pay them no mind; the vampire-bruises from last night sting as a reminder of your paranormal plight, caked under layers of foundation and color corrector. There’s an odd sting that shoots up your left leg, making it slightly difficult to stand upright. “You’re making me a prisoner of the flagship?”

Jingyuan sighs, resting his chin on a hand; ah, it’s that attitude again, all unbridled kindness and fleeting exasperation, like waves atop a morning sea. Over time, it spells more patronizing than it does calming, and urges you to reenact the more violent (and less whorish) parts of your lucid dreams. Your fingers twitch at the sight of his unmarred cheek.

“Why must you always assume the worst of me, my dear assistant?”

A droll stare. “You uprooted a fresh graduate from her position as amicassador, took advantage of her naivete to weasel in mutable terms in her contract, had her work an eight to ten schedule with unpaid overtime, and encouraged said amicassador graduate with no background in combat to cross-examine one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy.”

“First of all, what you are not paid in overtime is delivered to you in the forms of generous bonuses and an exceptional annual raise,” Jingyuan argues, scandalized by your declarations. Even Yanqing looks to him accusingly now. “And as for your meeting with… our newest problem, well, that’s a result of your own belligerence, isn’t it?” He taps his table with his knuckle, the first signs of irritation stretching over his usually composed visage. “You were instructed to meet with me as soon as you arrived on scene. If you had, I would’ve taken the time to inform you of what you were getting yourself into, and the risks associated.”

You throw your hands up in the air. “Well, fuck me for not considering my employer would throw little old me into a foray of top ten most wanted killers! I don’t know what you want me to say, Jingyuan, especially considering how little regard you’ve shown me for my entire career at your stupid post.” Your lips curl. “And you wonder why your turnover rate looks like it crawled out of Tingyun’s first year exam scores. Unbelievable.”

“Mind your tongue; there are children present,” Jingyuan snaps, but neither you nor his blond heir really give a damn. In fact, Yanqing looks like he’s fighting a smile. At least someone found the situation funny. “Regardless—this is a decision that has been agreed upon by both Diviner Fu and I. Thus, your resignation request has been… well, rescinded.”

His lips twitch into an almost-smile, and despite sounding like he meant official business, you can tell the bastard is enjoying this. You gaze mutely at the hastily-scrawled resignation essays you’d filled out at 6 AM over coffee stains and ink splatters, untouched beside a gold, ornate vase on the Jingyuan’s table; the general raises a brow at your lack of ire, likely expecting glares or creative (but politely-framed, as to not earn a bullet to the back of your head) death threats by now.

Instead, you smile. Jingyuan immediately grows wary.

“Article 6, subsection 23,” you purr, “Any defamation or destruction of property belonging to the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu will result in the permanent termination of said civil servant’s contract; punishments include, but may not be limited to, a six-month leave of absence from all organized labor.”

You grin. Jingyuan’s eyes widen.

��...whatever it is you’re planning, do no—”

“I think I’m long overdue for a vacation, don’t you, general?” You sing, and the general and his compatriots can only watch in slack-jawed horror as you raise the vase (an armistice gift from the Marshall Hua) and send it shattering onto the tile.

Deathly silence fills the halls of Jingyuan’s palace. Jingyuan doesn’t look up at you when he speaks, low and gritted, as damningly close to murderous as you’d ever heard him.

“Take her away. Solitary confinement. Two hours—then ensure she returns to her duties. This time, I want completion.”

Your smile drops.

“You—!”

And then you’re thrashing, the ends of your heels digging uselessly into the ground. The stupidly beefy arms of his personal guards yank you backwards to your makeshift cell (the infirmary), preventing you from falling backwards on your face.

“You can’t do this to me!” Your shrieks go unacknowledged; Jingyuan is too busy mourning over his dumb vase. “Jingyuan, you bastard! This is a violation of my rights! Terminate me! Throw me in jail! Anything but back there!”

Yanqing glances over the broken shards glinting over filtered sunlight. “General… is it really okay to let her go like that?”

The silver-haired man sighs, weary and a thousand years older than his already-dreaded age; he picks up a shard and examines it for any signs of salvageability (there are none). “Despite her… grievances, Diviner Fu has already determined her ‘likely favorable but not quite necessary’ for this case. I’m afraid she would’ve had to stay regardless. Though I do wish my dear assistant was even a smidgen more… agreeable.”

“—I knew I should’ve let Tingyun leak your 18+ sauna album! Just you watch, Jingyuan, after I’m through—”

“She has what.”

ꨄ︎

“—so please, for the love of all Aeons, I don’t care if it’s your stripper alias or Foxian Beauty & Haircare handle, just please, give me something to work with,” you groan, finding yourself at the mercy of the selectively mute space murderer with both your clothes and hair disheveled from fighting off (clawing at) Jingyuan’s men. Your throat aches from two hours of screeching obscenities, begging for mercy, and finally, prayer (unfortunately, you’d never been pious, and Lan had likely forsaken you by now). You’d thrashed, flipped the nursing cot upside down, shattered glass vials against the walls, and fallen to a half-dead heap on the floor by the time you were dragged in to resume bio-data collection.

If he registers your incessant whining, the space-criminal doesn’t show it; he says nothing for a long while until the void fills with the sound of incessant pen-tapping against your digital clipboard.

His mouth bends into a frown. “Stop that.”

“So he speaks,” you drawl, sarcastic. “Tell you what—why don’t you share your introductions with the class—me—and I’ll stop yammering. Easy as that.”

“Is it necessary?” He inquires cryptically. “Why don’t you just ask that general of yours—I’m sure Jingyuan would be able to sate your curiosity.”

Your rhythmic tapping ceases. “You know Jingyuan?”

That, he doesn’t answer; you observe him as he lapses back into silence, as dark and brooding as ever before, and feel the welts on your neck itch, an obtrusive reminder of your night terror (your dubbing isn’t quite accurate, but the label makes you feel better about yourself). Then, you resume clacking your pen in tribute to the morning show you’d catch glimpses of on the way to hell (work), and observe the tick working on the man’s jaw.

“...Blade,” he says at last, the word cutting like the edge of a serrated knife; you blink. Blade. The name suits him, somehow—all edge and red, like the backdrop of a battlefield. “...but here, Ren.”

You’re tearing through the bio-data form like a storm; two lines is enough. You’ll make it enough. Blade/Ren. Affiliation: likely Xianzhounian. Fabric points to a prime of at least five-hundred years prior; further trace collection is needed. Picture comparison of clothing necessary for evaluation. Suspected relation with Luofu General—unsure if this is an attempt to derail from questioning/true identity. Unlikely, but possible. Discouraged communication style. Psychiatric evaluation necessary; put-off by rhythmic tapping. Likely suffers from heightened senses; could be a result of battle-trauma or mixed genetics (both?). Likely a Xianzhou Native; probable Homo celestinae, blood testing required for confirmation.

“Blade,” you murmur, and the name rests oddly comfortably in your mouth; a strange moniker, but it sounds almost sweet when you say it, as if meant to be spoken. The man—Blade—shifts, not out of discomfort or regulation, but as the first non-forced physical acknowledgment you’d managed to wrench out from him. 

His lips curve into a sneer when you continue scritching.

“All figured out, from just a name,” he mocks. You raise a brow.

“Does that offend you?” You tap your pen in thought, conjuring up the next bullet point. Easily offended by assumptions. Possible insecurity? 

To your surprise, he grazes a smile—but not your regular, run-of-the-mill grin. It’s malefic, a touch depraved, like staring into a hollow skull. “No. Fantasize all you want. So as long I ruin you in every end.”

You nearly drop your clipboard.

“I could ruin you,” his voice echoes. “I could make it burn. You would dream of me in the waking world, cry for me in the dreaming. A slave to passion, day and night; hardly sleeping, hardly eating, merely breathing…” 

No. Impossible. There’s no way—it can’t be—

Gingerly, you finger the skin over your pulse point. The bruised kiss hisses upon contact; you feel the hummingbird-flutter of your own heartbeat.

“Do you dream?”

You don’t know why you blurt that particular phrase; you suppose it’s more acceptable than “did we almost-fuck in my (our?) dream last night”. Still, you observe the intergalactic space criminal with heightened scrutiny, wishing (now more than ever) he didn’t have that cursed blindfold on.

You never realized just how much is missed from the eyes alone.

If there’s any reaction, he doesn’t show it; his next words are mere remnants of what they should be, like bones atop carcass.

“I do not recall the last I dreamt.”

You swallow, the first needles of paranoia sinking into your spine. That should be answer enough. But you wonder why it feels like a dance between confirmation and indifference; anything but denial. Suddenly, you think you hate him; his archaic, cryptic remarks, his riddles and his ambiguity.

“Not worthy enough for recording?” he cuts through the silence, the cruelty of a half-smile gallivanting across your vision. You realize you’d been spaced out, pen hanging between downturned fingers, and curse.

“...think nothing of it,” you mutter. You deem the passage worthy enough for Jingyuan’s approval (it isn’t) and chuck the pen backwards. It dematerializes into the confines of your clipboard. “I should offer you my services once more, but I’m sure neither of us truly wishes for that. A word of advice—behave yourself, and the general might allow you to roam the cell unshackled for certain hours. I’m sure there’s nothing you want more than a hairbrush by now,” you snort. Blade doesn’t reply.

“Danyin,” you murmur, catching the man by his cuff when you exit the hall; he looks frazzled, as if half-expecting you to return with a missing limb (likely a touch disappointed when you don’t; you don’t consider yourself particularly lenient when forced into this scummy duty). “Do me a favor. I want you to place a recording device outside his cell; one of those high-tech thermal ones that can navigate through the dark.”

Danyin pales. “D-digital recordings—any recording—outside what is sanctioned by the general himself is strictly prohibited! I don’t even have cle—”

You unclasp your wristwatch and replace it with Danyin’s own; the man can only babble out a half-hearted protest when you do, mourning his defeat already.

“I’d do it myself, but I’m not exactly out of general douche-canoe’s radar,” you sigh, tightening the clasp. Danyin mumbles something about hiring an underwriter for his will, to which you offer a sunny grin and a pat on the back. “I’m counting on you, friend!”

He mutters something about you being as shitty as Jingyuan. You pretend not to hear it.

ꨄ︎

“A dream demon?” Tingyun snorts, pushing the newly-gifted sunglasses she’d received from a Yaoqing merchant that served as General Feixiao’s retinue down her nose. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me you didn’t make me cancel my hair appointment to play therapist for your psychotic break. How many times did I tell you to just quit and work with me in—”

You yank down the collar of your dress, having wiped off the excess makeup in the restaurant bathroom prior. “Look.”

“For the love of—oh. Oh.” She tilts her frames downwards, viridescent hues assessing the damage. “You got yourself a suckerfish? Careful with those—one starskiff romp shimmied into your lunchbreak and they think they own you.”

“Actually, my very preventable trauma from waking up next to Dai—Daiqiu? Daiqing? Has rendered me unable to pursue any bedmates since,” you sniff. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“You sure you didn’t wobble into Inferno after your shift and had a couple shots too many? We all know it’s all south after your third martini. And your impairment the following morning.”

“You and I both know I don’t get off until midnight, and you were there when we both got banned from Inferno!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t laughed at the owner’s son and called him fossilized when he asked for a three—”

“He was at least as old as my grandfather, Ting! Without the Jingyuan-tier looks to make up for it!”

“Jingyuan isn’t that old—wait, do you still have a crush on him? What happened to—”

“That’s beside the point!” You swat her hand off the straw of her mid-afternoon cocktail, knocking her jade bracelet against the glass. The heat of it fogs the hexagons scattering rainbows onto the counter, and you are acutely reminded of the matching anklet that dangles on your left, forever warm and secured to your person. “I know you barely passed history—”

“Hey.”

“—but Foxian history can be traced as far back as the Long’s Scions, can it not? Surely there has to be something you picked up over the years. Maybe some old stories, some superstition…”

“[Name],” Tingyun sighs, “are you seriously asking me if I remember any bedtime stories?”

“So there is? Something, I mean?”

“You’re honestly better off taking that to a Vidyadhara historian or a senior Xianzhou Native,” Tingyun admits, to which your face cripples, because Aeons knows your social life had been reduced to zilch after your recruitment (and there was no way you’d press the matter to Jingyuan; you had no doubt he and Diviner Fu could grapple onto the dirtiest details of your midnight escapades). She swishes her drink with her straw in thought. “Foxian lifespans are but fleeting compared to the stories of our other long-lived peers; what are four hundred years, after all, to rebirth and a thousand?”

It’s said with a twinge of envy; you know Tingyun is not like Xianzhou commonfolk who dread their existence and eventual descent to madness. Life is—will never be—enough for her, never enough wine to drink, men to seduce; never enough jewelry and lost merchandise for Whistling Flames.

“We do, however, have our love stories—love and lust and betrayal and wroth, they’re quite similar, don’t you think? And the tales of the Foxians pale in comparison to none.”

“This isn’t about love,” is your immediate response. Tingyun arches a fine brow.

“Isn’t it, though?” With that, she reaches out to redo the buttons on your collar. Heat creeps up your ears. “Passion… this is something Foxians are accustomed with. We love our wine and jade, men and women all the same; I’m sure you know this,” she laughs, and you feel the fox-carving against your anklet simmer. “You know of the Xianzhou belief of soul partners, do you not?”

“Of course.” You reach down, absently, to tickle the jade that had been gifted (shackled) to you on your graduation day. “There’s the, erm, chosen ones, right? Bosom friends, sworn brothers—”

“That’s right; and they’re referred to as chosen for a reason.” She points the end of her olive stick at you. “It is the highest form of love, for some; philia, at the end of the day, is a choice,” she ignores your grumble of “where was mine”, “though, arguably, many believe these soul partners were predestined to be in your life. We gift our jade to these soul partners, and the Vidyadhara share a similar custom, but with bracers; warmth indicates the wearer’s partner is alive and well, and there is a belief that these gifts will eventually bring one back to the other, in life, death, dreams, or otherwise.” She narrows her eyes. “Though there’s no reason, seeing as I’d rather be caught dead than star in your rogue fantasies.”

“Wasn’t ever an option,” you mutter.

“There is another, more outdated; I’ve only ever heard stories about it, and some say the encounter died since the plague of abundance ravaged the long-lived. It’s less of a choice, more a force of nature; or so I’ve been told. A bunch of rubbish, honestly, but there does exist stories of another kind of soul partner—one that embodies a more… debauched role. I suppose soulmate is a loose term; these stories have long since been discarded, scoffed at as crude; these are the stories of scorned lovers, of passion, bedroom woes and death and betrayal; truly, nothing worth writing home about. I’m sure we’ve progressed enough as a society to leave behind such primal relics.”

Your head spins at the sudden onslaught of information; you inhale through your nose, pinching the bridge between two fingers. Tingyun finishes the contents of her drink, suckling the heart-shaped straw dry. “And what… what does that have to do with…”

“With your suckerfish?” Tingyun grins, dodging a kick under the table. “I’m getting to that. There’s a story—just one that I can remember, at least. My Lady wasn’t fond of me rummaging through those particular texts.”

“No wonder you turned out to be so godless—ow!”

“...like I was saying. There exists a…largely banned text. A bit blasphemous, but more so an overreaction, on the elders’ part; I’ll spare you the details, but the story can be loosely translated as The Foxian’s Obsession. Not the most creative of titles, I’ll admit, though it is fitting; it weaves the tale of a long-lived Foxian’s adoration of a short-lived fisherman. The woes of past society would not permit her to seek out a man of such fragility, and eventually, the fisherman married; the Foxian, hurt, enraged, and heartbroken, would curse the fisherman to an eternal sleep.”

“Sounds like one of those ex nightmare stories on Foxian Lipstick Alley,” you chortle.

“Imagine being so obsessed,” Tingyun snorts. “Anyways, the wife and family of the comatose fisherman start seeing ‘love marks’ on him, find him dead one day, bleeding from the mouth; the wife is put on trial until they discover news of said Foxian having passed in her sleep, coincidentally, with the same comorbidity.”

“What the fuck.”

“Creepy, isn’t it? Now, if that were the case with you…”

“Tingyun!” You screech. The Foxian snickers at your distress. “This isn’t funny! What if this dude’s some creepy old Foxy spirit disguising himself as some space criminal hunk to get into my pants and commit murder-sui!”

“Your drawers are in need of a seasonal refresh…”

“Tingyun, you bi—”

“Aeons, relax,” the amicassador slaps your arm in poor reassurance. “These are mere whispers of the past. The first starskiff hadn’t even taken flight when it was published. Besides, does your dream demon present with ears and a tail? You know that’s our one indisputable giveaway…”

“...no, he doesn’t,” you begrudge, a sigh of relief escaping you. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“Then there you have it. I’m sure this is just a consequence of your ridiculous work hours—how many times must I tell you stress is bad for beauty? You’re even losing pockets of memory…”

“...you’re right. That must be it.”

“So? what happened to your resignation letter?”

“Don’t get me started—”

You vent the happenings of this morning to Tingyun, who, for the first time, appears rather irked; it’s not a common look for the Foxian, as leisurely and unbothered as a nepo-child of Lady Yukong can be, though you suppose even she has her limits on witnessing you falling victim to workplace abuse.

Throughout the conversation, you concoct the margins of your plan; the cameras should be set up by now, if Danyin is at least half-competent. You touch your now-fading love bites and make a mental note to pick up another bottle of fantasia.

If working with Jingyuan blessed you with any positives, it’s your seasoned thirst for vengeance—and the earlier you act, the swifter (and sweeter) your prize.

Perhaps it was a fluke. Perhaps it was a once-in-a-lifetime, paranormal encounter—but on the off chance it isn’t, well, now you’d be prepared.

Because if he can ruin you, who’s to say you can’t return the favor?

[opluffys]

Personal-

posted first to my archive- you can read ‘mentor mentee’ for more context if you’d like, but you can also read this blind! pls let me know if there are any errors and i hope you enjoy!

tags- rough sex, size difference, size kink, angst, toxic relationship, internal conflict, creampie, vaginal sex, mating press, fem reader.

4k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-nsfw/smut-

Forcing yourself to drag your stare from the monotonous and drab documents onto him, standing there in all of his terrifying glory. Mountainous and big, all of him, from his behaviour to his looks. You were tired of it, of him. Lies.

You wondered what brought him in this time. Part of you had already known, though.

"Did you fuck him again?"

You scoffed, clicking your pen and setting it down gently, the dark ink setting to dry over the tinted pages. You had wanted to tell him a false truth, but is it really false? A growing bit of you had wanted to scurry back to Price, sticking to his side just as you'd done for Ghost.

"Why does that matter?" You began to kick your shoes off, knowing what would happen in the next few moments. Bent over the desk and fucked until broken sounds left you, like always.

Ghost stilled, displeased with your response. He'd not yet closed the distance between you two, not yet sealing your fate for the night. To be sore and stuffed full of him, is what you'd anticipated, thighs squeezing together as you started to reminisce.

What good were you though, if you were just made to say yes? To always listen and mindlessly obey whatever Ghost would say and ask of you. You attempted to will away whatever lecherous thoughts that compelled you, standing from your office chair.

"There's always something I've wanted to ask you. Something I've been too afraid to even think of." You laughed, a saddened and dry sound. You forced yourself to continue on with your complex dialogue.

"Can you tell me Ghost? What you and I are to one another?" Your question was desperate, tone shaky and eyes glossy. You'd constructed a perfect answer within your muddied mind, hoping that he'd say what you'd wanted to hear, overcome with something to falsify that answer.

You waited for his reply, your stare stuck on his dark one. You loathed looking into his eyes, because they told you everything you'd wanted to know. You knew he had an answer, one so intricate and lengthy, he himself was unaware- the thing that had been so utterly amusing though, was that you were equally as unknowing, too.

And like a true spirit, he'd left as silently as he'd appeared.

•

A muted moan left your lips, bent and folded in an impossible, nearly, position, taking Ghost into your pussy. His large and gloved hands were on the backs of your knees, pushing and folding your legs to compress your entire being. The large and ill-fitting shirt hung off of your body as he pushed into your heat, oddly gently, eye contact starting to make you nervous and nauseous.

He continued to feed his large cock into you, leaving just a bit of him to keep you stretched open before shoving himself back in. You cried out to him, your hands tangled into the cheap sheets of his bed, and- his bed? Your eyes popped open, scanning your surroundings, and oh, how the hell did you end up here? In his supposed safe haven, his fucking home.

How had the stars aligned for the two of you to get a break at the same exact time? Not so much as a break, more like a medically related one for Ghost, and you'd been forced to go watch over him, since he was notorious for not trusting other hospitals. The man barely trusted anyway, this was not at all surprising. This all made sense, but how you'd gotten into this position hadn't.

A soft squeeze at your plush flesh had your eyes flickering back to his, "Look at me while I fuck you."

Your breath hitched, legs opting to close, being stopped by him. He pulled out again, slow, slower than he's ever gone with you before. You were used to a rabid and animalistic pace, one that would shake you back and forth from his thrusts alone. But this? Leisure and slow, powerful and strong thrusts of his cock inside your walls, deep eye contact, those honey eyes with light lashes staring down at you. Ever so slightly narrowing when you'd squeezed him in such a way, tight and snug around his thick girth.

You, for once, stared right back at him. Through your tears at your waterline threatening to flow, through thickened lashes, you stared at him, just as he'd wanted you to. Just his tip was inside of you now, and he waded himself back in, watching and appraising your reaction. Every twitch of your body, how your legs tried to close, how your pussy spasmed around his cock and tried force him out- all of it.

Ghost struggled to get all of him inside of you, so used to just having you sit atop him and laze back, often in your own seat. He'd watch, somewhat amused, as you rode him, so fervent, hands behind your back while you would moan and whisper whatever it was you'd said. He'd, when feeling generous, roll his hips up into you to meet you halfway, watching as your eyes opened in shock when you felt him just a little deeper.

So, at a new and all too personal angle, he continued to work his dick into you, hearing your small 'it's too much,' or 'you're so big' spur him on with every minuscule movement from him. Ghost wasn't one to try new things, opting instead for something familiar. Like maybe having your face buried into the sterile cot as he fucked you from the back, fast and unforgiving speed always having you moan out to him in pure ecstasy. But, he was open for new things at times. Sharing you with Price (once was enough for him), having you set the pace, trying new positions.

He briefly questioned if you'd enjoyed the change, too.

Cutting through the silence, he spoke, "You like getting fucked like this? Feelin' me right- fuck, right here?" His large hand fanned out over your abdomen, pushing down and able to feel himself inside. Your hand scrambled over his, cold leather meeting you. The sensation of the provided pressure too much, per usual.

"God, don't, don't do that again." A whine left you, your body betraying you as you pushed his hand down, a timid ask, again, please.

He listened, pushing that spot over your stomach down, the cold material of his gloves making it feel a little less personal- because to be completely true to yourself, you had to admit how badly you'd wanted to touch him. To feel his hands, without the leather barrier, to hold them and wonder how they would feel in your smaller ones. Your hand enclosed over his, raising it a bit, fingers attempting to lift his glove off. You wanted it to feel personal. You were tired of it not being such.

But you were also so fucking scared of it becoming just that, too personal. As every aspect of your day to day life had some of Ghost in it, your conscious and mind having the most of him within, constant thoughts plaguing your mind. These thoughts, for once, hadn't deterred you, continuing to ease the leather glove off of Ghost's hand.

He didn't seem to take note of what you'd been doing, lost in your tight insides, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure you'd provided him. Maybe that's why he'd chosen you, because you were the only one who could take him like this, take him any fucking way he'd chosen. You had been the only one able to give him a similar sensation of pure euphoria, just as he'd given you.

"Ghost, I-" A sharp inhale from you as your cunt continued to struggle with his size, "I want to touch you." So sudden, your voice was airy and light, almost as if you'd pass out at any given moment. And from how lightheaded you'd felt at both your request and at the way Ghost had slowly been fucking into you, it didn't seem too far off from actually happening.

Your brain hadn't even had the time to concoct whatever negative scenarios, as he spoke up, "Why now."

Not a question, a statement. He's right- why now? You'd always despised loved the idea of touching him, and you'd so desperately wanted to put that idea into fruition, even though the rightful side of you, the more logical one, had attempted to warn you that it wasn't a good idea. If you'd felt him, then perhaps you'd grow even more addicted than you already were.

You'd take your chances, though.

"I don't know why, just, oh, fuck," You forgot what the hell you were even talking about, feeling his cock just about bottom out inside of you. "Please."

He stopped, hovering over you, a single hand keeping your leg spread while the other was entangled with yours. The ambient and low lighting framing him with an odd glow, one that had you wanting to cower in fear.

Lightly, so much so that you almost hadn't noticed, he squeezed your hand back, an answer to you, fine, yeah okay. It was unsure, just as his demeanour normally was around you. You pushed the glove off, the item falling to the floor with a barely audible sound. You, for a moment, held his hand. Not too long, because then you knew that he'd retract it and slip that glove back on, that sense of protection back on, his sense.

His hand was rough and calloused, but so warm. Heavy in your hand and against your touch, you laced your fingers with his before squeezing, looking up at him, his figure blurry through tinted lenses.

"Go faster, please." A shy appeal, something which your body couldn't even handle, your insides unable to withstand the spare inches that Ghost had yet to fuck into you.

"You can handle it, can't you?" He rolled his hips upwards, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that had you feeling dizzy.

Words had failed you, so you nodded, anchoring yourself to him just by holding his big hand. Your eyes etching shut, before widely opening from a particularly harsh and deep thrust by Ghost.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You attempted at a nod before throwing your head back and gasping, air refusing to fill your lungs as Ghost had nearly pushed the entirety of his dick in. He was filling you to the fucking brim, stuffing you full of him, his flushed tip threatening to bash into your womb again and again.

You held the position that he'd folded you into, thighs beginning to burn at the abnormal angle. You then remembered, he'd crowded into your space while you bandaged his abdomen is what began this all. You don't even remember what he'd said to you, what he'd done, for you to end up beneath him- a sight that you'd witness on the regular. He's never had you so close to him, his face merely inches away from yours. His deep and dark stare never leaving yours, spare for the few times he'd straighten his posture and sound his own moans. Gravelly and low, shutting his eyes while his blonde lashes fell over his cheeks in bliss.

You briefly looked down towards your hand, staring at the larger one that had been loosely holding yours. You'd never even seen his hands before, always clad with leather and never showing his actual flesh. It was scarred, and big- just like the rest of him, full of protruding veins and tendons. The size of his lone hand could fit both of yours within it easily, making your face have a warm heat fan across. You began to think about how his hands would pin yours to the wall, the mattress, whatever, while pounding into you. Feeling conflicted between lust and love, no, this isn't love, it never will be.

Yet, you clutched onto him like it was.

You wanted to commit this sight, this entire night, to memory, because you knew that the next morning you'd criticise yourself for it. Endless questioning of how you'd allowed him to get so close to you, to hold you like a lover and fuck into you like one, slowly, oddly carefully for him too- it never made any sense. He'd either be too cold, which is the Ghost you'd known, or he'd slightly warm up, handling you with care instead of typical rag-doll fashion.

You'd handle your emotions in the morning.

You squeezed his hand, tightly, drawing his attention back to you. "Faster," You plead, feeling his hips slowly push against you, the soft material of his gray sweatpants soft against your exposed skin.

"You know to ask nicely, love."

You hated adored when he'd call you pet names, they just made you feel more attached. Nevertheless, you obeyed, "Please, please go faster, Ghost."

He hummed lowly, pleased at your obedience. His leisure speed hastened, his forehead pressing against yours as your eyes flitted closed, little whimpers and moans leaving your agape lips.

"Fuck, so good, you're so good." He grunted, bottoming out inside of you at last, hearing you cry out in slight soreness. His nose was brushing against yours, his eyes on you, brow furrowed. He's so fucking pretty, and you hadn't even known what he'd looked like.

"You're so deep," Your words slurred, feeling his cock rub up against your slick walls deliciously.

"Yeah? You like it, don't you?" He groaned, sounding like a deep growl rumbling in his clothed chest. His speed was dizzying now, slamming into you with fervour.

You nodded, feeling his hand pin yours on the mattress, the soft and laced hold now turning into something filthy, a means to hold you down.

"Use your words, don't go dumb on me just yet." He teased, returning to the slow and downright tortuous pace he'd once been at.

"Yes, I like it, I love it," You stopped yourself from saying something that you'd soon regret, those three words remaining unspoken.

"I know you do." A long and drawn out moan left him, his hand grasping your wrist as he continued to ram into you.

A sudden wave of uncomforted emotion consumed you, thoughts of how close he'd been making you feel queasy. You wanted to get him off, while simultaneously wanting to pull him impossibly closer. You didn't know when he'd feel like this again, so you felt like you were taking this entire situation for granted- but those conflicting thoughts were eating at your very sanity, making his close vicinity unbearable.

Looks like Ghost shared your sentiment, backing away from you and removing his hand from yours. Instead, he looked down towards you as his cock continued to drive in and out of your wet cunt. You hated how he had known how to fuck you just right, making sparks fly within your synapses, always coaxing multiple orgasms from you, he had always known what to do with you.

His ungloved hand reached up to the bottom of his balaclava, and you clearly froze up. You had to be hallucinating, because if just touching him would make you feel so utterly confused, you couldn't even begin to fathom how seeing him would fare.

That cloud of constant anonymity surrounding Ghost made things easier between the two of you. While you had shown and intimated at your true feelings, albeit rare, you have done it before. Typically when seating yourself on his cock wasn't enough, and you had actually wanted to feel something between you two. You couldn't lose that, because then you knew that you'd fall for him, it's already happened, hasn't it?

He pulled the fabric up, acting as a striptease while shallowly thrusting into your heat. He stopped just shy of showing the bridge of his nose, and you turned away before you'd even gotten a glimpse of him. You didn't care how badly you'd wanted to see him, see Simon and not Ghost. You didn't care at all, staring at the bland and blank white walls as you were moved up and down due to his hips colliding against yours.

It was sudden, his bare hand on your face, nearly smooshing your cheeks together, roughly bringing your stare back to him.

"Not a very good listener, are you? Look at me."

Your stare never met his, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes, please, don't make me see you. I don't want to fall in l-

A harsh thrust forced you to meet his gaze, and you felt an odd sense of relief rush through your system as his entire face wasn't exposed. Just the bottom half, which you have seen a few times, in a more clinical setting, of course. He's never shown you himself whilst balls-deep inside of you.

Well, until now, anyway.

"Good." A quick praise that had you melting against his welcomed touch. You were unaccustomed to seeing his lips form the very words he'd said, yet you could watch it all day. He removed his hand from your face, instead tugging at his loose shirt, bringing it to catch on his teeth.

Fuck, that shouldn't be that hot.

His eyes were on your trembling figure, at times glancing down to watch his thick cock disappear inside your greedy pussy. Gripping him in a way that you thought he wouldn't pound into you again, foolishly wrong as his cock returned within your cunt with a low groan. The gauze covering his abdomen following every light twitch from his stomach having you watch with embarrassing intent.

Your thighs burned as they were spread to their limit, one of your hands grabbing at the sheets as your very life depended on it. The the other was clutching tightly at his inked arm, nails biting into the decorated skin, he grunted as your nails raked over his arm, his thrusts halting as he felt his own orgasm creep up on him.

Normally, he would speak during this period, tell you how perfect you were for him. But, he kept quiet, due to the fabric of his shirt in his mouth, or maybe he just wasn't in the mood. You didn't know, you didn't care, you were lost in the way his cock would push right up against that spot that had your vision blacking out. Your own hips lowering to meet his in mutual thrusts, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure and liquid ecstasy shooting through your own spine, every disc lighting up.

Ghost's hot and heavy dick continued to punch into your drooling cunt in such a way that nearly had you bawling. You felt your toes begin to curl as all of the signs were leading up to your own orgasm, something of which you'd been chasing, yet delaying, for you knew that those rose-tinted glasses would shatter.

Again- you didn't care though.

His gloved hand reached to rub at your neglected nub with passion, having a high pitched moan leave your lips. You jerked into his touch, a greedy imploration for more, your body betraying your very mind and virtues.

Your ask hadn't been ignored, the tight circles he drew becoming neater and more attentive to every twitch and move from you. You whimpered his name, feeling his fingers on you and his cock ruin and pick you apart being too much, even for you. You, who had been moulded and formed to his very imprint, wanting and constantly ready for him.

A brush of his fingers and feeling his cock drive into you just right had you sobbing. Your back arching up towards him, your nails making crescent shapes over his exposed and inked skin, as you had finished over his fat cock. He groaned at watching your orgasm wash over you, humming deeply while he witnessed your comeback to the scene. Your sensitive nerves not getting a break as his pace had only hastened, cock driving into you at the most proper and precise angles.

With a huff, his shirt dropped down to its correct spot, hiding his body from you. He groaned as he felt your insides squeeze him with a vice grip. His mouth was agape, stubble framing his jaw beautifully, kissable lips forming a sentence, "He can't fuck you like this. Not like I can. Nobody will ever be able to, because you're mine." His words were rushed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his cock twitched inside you.

God, you nearly unraveled under him once more at his very words. You already knew who Ghost was speaking  of, and no matter how good Price was in bed, he was right, he couldn't fuck you like Ghost could.

You didn't confirm his words, though. You couldn't, because then you'd have to admit he was right, right about you belonging to him. And oh, how you'd wanted that to be a cruel reality, held in his virulent grasp.

You heard his sounds grow in quantity and felt his thrusts quality begin to deteriorate. You knew he'd been close, "Inside, please."

"Not goin' anywhere else."

While fucking Ghost, you quickly learned that he was obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you. You quickly had to start the pill, lest you wanted to carry his child. You didn't know why he loved it so much, maybe it felt good, maybe the sight of your pussy leaking his cum after being stuffed to the absolute brim was such an arousing sight to behold. But no, it was a means to claim you. To mark you as his in a way that no other would have the ability to.

And he'd do just that, again and again, and again, and again, andagainandagain-

He groaned, such a low and addicting sound as he doubled over you. His cum filled your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he continued to fuck his seed back into you, your knuckles blanching at how tightly you had held both the sheets, and Ghost's arm.

The both of you were unmoving, his dick softening inside of you before he'd pulled out. He untangled himself from you, stare stuck on how your abused hole leaked his essence, using his thick fingers to push it back in. You remembered what he'd said before while doing so, 'Not good t'waste,'.

You laid still, regaining your breath as well as your ability to form thoughts while you felt a warm cloth tidy you up. His touch would sometimes linger on you for a moment too long to be considered an accident, yet you'd shake it off and consider it as one.

You clothed yourself, pulling on a set of bottoms, ultimately unnecessary, as the shirt you wore was like a dress on your shorter stature. You don't know how Ghost's article of clothing had ended up in your hands- on your very body nonetheless, his scent embracing you, yet sneering at you, feeling attached?

You checked his wounds and re-bandaged any as necessary, as you were still a doctor, after all. You'd had plenty of things that remained unsaid, to both yourself and to him. You'd wanted to tell him your true emotions towards him, but you were so afraid. Afraid of him, or rejection, or both. It wasn't clear, and it wasn't feasible to build a relationship with a man like him, anyway. With a man so fucked up and broken, incapable of feeling how you felt, even a sliver of it. Is what you had thought, anyway.

Ghost watched as you shoved on a windbreaker in a hurried way, slipping your shoes on as you'd wanted to run. Sprint off into the sunset and forget whatever fucked up relationship was between you and Ghost, if you could even call it such a thing. What the two of you were was truly complex, forever unknowing to you and him. Despite this, he yearned to say a single word to you, a pathetic beg forming in his mind.

He'd wanted you to stay.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Why a seal for Lily?

(I really like the ask before this asking for deeper meaning in why Lily’s patronus was a doe instead of a seal and it turned out to be a typo. Big “the curtains are blue” energy.

To be clear, I’m not making fun of that anon, I just think the situation is funny.)

Excellent question, anon.

Caveat

Obviously, as usual, we don't know this about the character for certain and we know very little about Lily Evans from canon. She's one of those characters where almost anything goes, and in our case here we're going off a character we mostly made up for our own purposes.

Why Not a Deer?

The thing about the deer is, to my and @therealvinelle remembrance and ctrl-f through the books, we never have it confirmed that Lily's patronus is a doe. It's just assumed it is because Snape's turns into a doe because of his love for Lily and James's is a stag.

However, doesn't it seem quite typical for this fucking character to have been assumed to have the wrong patronus this entire time because people only think of her as an extension of her husband/a vague feminine object?

And isn't it very funny if Snape's patronus isn't in fact a match of Lily's but rather what he thinks Lily's is, which really boils down to his competition with and hatred of James?

Wouldn't that be terrible?

Why a Seal?

So, with a doe off the table, @therealvinelle and I had to decide on what the patronus would be.

We went with a seal because it's a highly adapted creature that performs excellently well within its adapted element. You put that thing in water and it is a superb swimmer, excellent hunter, and does quite well for its weight class.

The trouble is when you get it out of water.

Then you have the most dismayed creature in the universe that just looks at its surroundings with a silent "help?" and "can't move". At best, it can sort of flop around to try to get back to water.

In other words, take the seal outside of its element, and it's easily mistaken for a derpy animal that is hardly a threat to anyone, is just very cute and silly looking, and look at it bounce!

This is not the case, however, it's just that seal's not swimming at the moment.

To us, this felt very much like Lily's constant life experiences.

[zhongrin]

To the kinich post

why can we kill baby monsters and not cats. Or dogs. Can we kill the foxes on Inazuma? The seals yes.

Hoyo is weirdly specific with that is a monsterlife lesser then a stereotype pet?

Or do cats symbolise something else in the game because of Venti being allergic?? (He is a fucking WHISP not even human he is just copying an appearence how the fuck does he have an allergy??? HE CONTROLS THE WIND HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS EVEN-)

We are the monsters here.

Have u seen the hilichurl just chilling around. The slimes playing? The evolved hilichurl watching the world? They use instruments. Slimes to fly. They know how to use instruments. Pyro slimes for explosion. Dendro to create shields (how the fuck i want that too) anemo to transport and fly.

They have a fucking language. Most are former people. We are just to ignorant and fearful to realize we've been killing sentient people who laugh and have fun and have their own traditions and-

*falls over and gets carried away by an exasperated husband* "...I know I shouldn't have given you a sight to the over darkness."

ok nvm i lied i didn't (can't) sleep bc of all the noises outside (yay /s) so here goesー

hskdjskdj no idea i mean game-design wise it makes sense sure, but lore wise??? idk why we're attacking these natlan ppl and their saurians, they look normal and are mostly just chilling in nature... why are we beating them up? lore wise? i don't think there's an explanation for it?? maybe they 'got too excited' like what the daily quests says and we're just calming them down?? lmao

and again if we approach it lore wise, it doesn't make sense for the traveler to continue killing the hilichurls either?? at this point they know what the hilichurls are. so yeah, it's all for the sake of gameplay orz

........

hnmmm. here's an idea...

cw. not proofread, word vomit, violence/light gore

you get isekai'd into teyvat. you're worshipped as the creator and all that pizzazz; we all know how it goes so i'm not going to explain further.

now imagine, one day you decide to stroll through the lands, accompanied by a few select people; perhaps the 'main team' you always use for exploration in-game. a few ways away, you see a camp of hilichurls. obviously you know what they actually are, and you got curious if you could do something for them, right? i mean, being the creator, an all powerful entity, you might even be able to reverse their curse? who knows? better try it out!

so you step closer to try and communicate with them.

but to your utter surprise, instead of doing so, you find your body moving on its own, hand raised to grab the nearest character's weapon, before swinging with the full intention to kill.

thud.

the blade decapitates the poor creature's head.

as it rolls on the ground and you stare at the gruesome sight in both horror and denial, bile rising from the back of your throat, your acolytes follow your example and proceeds to eradicate the entire camp.

your will is their command, after all.

you can't even scream. you can't find your voice. nit because of fear or sadness or frustrationー you just can't.

once they finish, they return to you, expecting praise and adoration, only to be greeted by tears and muffled sobs. they don't understand why you were crying; even before your descent to teyvat, haven't you been commanding them to do the same thing, countless times? they try to offer you the remnants of the hilichurls' bloodied masks and divine scrolls ー you've always liked receiving those! why are you crying harder? what did they do wrong?

you look like you were trying to say something, but they find the words leaving your mouth is of a language they have never heard before.

you thought you could find a home in the world you loved so much.

but you just feel..... lost.

[spoiler/explanation below]

eventually, you realize you were no 'creator' of this world at all.

you were just a string marionette of celestia's.

'the creator' had always been an illusion; an existence They created to pull the blanket over everyone's eyes. your existence's sole purpose is to control the archons, the dragon sovereigns, and the people of teyvat. like an ignorant shepherd leading the sheeps straight to the maw of the wolves.

you weren't some all knowing creator.

you weren't even a monster.

you were never yourself at all.