#Why does Pebbles have so many tags???

[illusion133]

Five Pebbles and LttM!

Happy Halloween.! I just got back from a hallowed party and I feel tired af-

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

[blueparadis]

❝ SAVE YOUR BREATH ❞ + SHINJI HIRAKO ❪ playing ⌗7, ⌗8 & ⌗9 ❫─── via radio line ❛ anatomy of emotions ❜〳 from this is what ____ feels like !

[ content and themes ]::f!reader x fwb!shinji hirako, angst, ex! boyfriend aizen souske, fluff; 1k word count. // [ tag index ]

There has always been an awful connection between the monsoons and the morbids in Seireitei. It is the cold. It is the cold that stays after the downpour. It is the cold that makes one feel alone, helpless till sadness strikes your heart. Shinji is aware of this.

However, he can not understand why he feels lonely and helpless on such a bright sunny day. Perhaps in the world of fragile mortals, things work in a different manner. Being a Shinigami for centuries and floating amid the mundanity is an unending road of misery and darkness for him. Shinji does not remember, his memories of this world, but the trail of mishaps from Seireitei to Hueco Mundo he followed led back to the girl he dotes on.

You are sitting opposite to him in a peach-colored floral dress with different-sized roses embroidered on it. It is a delightful colour but you do not look happy. The cafe is crowded and your boyfriend, Hirako attracts every pair of eye that passes by him. His waist-length blonde fall of hair is tied by a strawberry rubber band you left at his place last time. He is wearing a simple full sleeves top with grey jeans.

Shinji speaks stretching one of his arms to keep the cup on the plate, “Do you remember when we first met? ” sustaining his inclined sitting posture. He does not sound sad, or angry. It is hard to pinpoint how exactly he is feeling. Maybe because he is too focused on yours, he worries that you might disintegrate into someone else.

You smile barely as your gaze remains intact, on your thighs. Sucking in a small breath you look up to your boyfriend nodding. “Yes.I do.” You take a sip of tea. “To be honest, of all the people I have met in this life probably yours is the oddest and hence, the most memorable.” Your voice trembles a little at the end.

Shinji asses the way you speak. He is calm, almost too calm. He thinks back on the question he just asked you. He can not say the same about you but that does not mean he has forgotten it, does not mean he holds no regard for all those memories he created with you. If he were to be honest he would say that he has too many options to choose from. He is unable to pick the best. Does he even need to? Can't he keep all of them safe in one place?

Every memory that he has shared with you, spent with you — all those lazy morning brunches that ended with sleeping during the warm afternoon being wrapped with each other under the futon, all those sleepless nights that he spent with you watching the stars, then watching you, kissing your moles and counting them like the stars. He would get bored if he counted the stars in the sky but never when it comes to counting the moles on your body. You kept him on his toes, invested with your cute little reactions to his habits and actions. Sometimes he would watch you cook and listen to how your day went and some other times he would wrap your legs around his waist with his cock shoved inside you, eliciting moans from you, drawing constellations on your skin with his lips and teeth so that when he leaves you think of him and only him.

Shinji has not spoken for almost two minutes. He is falling, drowning in a pool of memories he was never supposed to. He is as silent as a pond. You are like a pebble to him. You have created ripples in his soul that went beyond his imagination. And now those ripples are turning into waves; a pond now slowly distorts into a river. You were just a mission to him, but here he is sitting at a cafe with you, so desperate to find a reason for himself not to go away or to leave you alone. He does not even know if he is getting attached or dependent on you or if is it the other way around. Those tears in your eyes are what confused him.

And that is the very reason why it is so hard to forget, to heal the hurt in you. Shinji has no complaints. He could take away your memories and act like nothing ever happened between you two but would he really be okay with you having to forget him? Probably he saw it coming or a tiny part of him always knew that his relationship with you will not thrive forever. Ever since you saw Souske last week at work you knew you had to end this arrangement with Shinji. This odd arrangement of 'playing boyfriend' to plug the cleft that Souske left behind.

Aizen being back in town changed everything. Shinji realized that he can not keep playing boyfriend for you. He forgot he was here to protect the vessel holding one of the seven keys to open Pandora's box. You might be lying to him by saying the reason for your break up is just you need space and a short break but Shinji knows he deserves it. At least he thinks he does because he had been lying to you all the time about so many things, about the fact that he knows Souske or about the part where he is interested in you just because Souske choose you to be one of his vessels. Shinji exhales deeply. His slouched posture finally breaks as he leans forward, tucking some stray strands behind his ear he admits, “There’s nothing you could have done. I understand. It's okay.”

It is anything but not okay. How could it be? How could he be so serene and inert? You look around the cafe, seeing different types of people — teenagers, elders, couples- and realize how everyone is living entirely different lives from one another, having their own waves. Sonder, they call it, is the realization that everyone has a story.

You press your teeth lines against each other, your vision blurs for a second and your breathing hitches. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.” You mumble. “why does it feel like this is goodbye?”

Shinji tucks a few hair strands behind your earlobes. His lips parted. “because it is one.”

“Here is your order ma'am.” The waiter remarks keeping a pastry in front of you shooting you a quick smile. You look at the waiter for a few seconds and then shift it in front of you. There is no one sitting opposite to you now. You check your phone. There are still five minutes left for the blind date to arrive, the best way to not be tense about it is to eat and what could be better than trying different flavors of pastries?

@underratedcharactercorner @angelshub

[sin-sidejob]

hello ghostJR anon here!!, If you want to of course, can you EHEM- got me all nervous now uhhh- ghost JR window sex with mc pressed against one of the windows and him just loving the vieww 👀👀

Ghost!JR Scheimpough x GN AFAB Reader

A Haunting Display

warnings: smut, NSFW, minors DNI, p-in-v smut, ghost sex, monsterfucking I guess?? Specter sex?? Heh. Anyways, porn. AFAB Reader who wears a dress and has "tits", non-descript. Use of pet names and terms of endearment such as baby, pretty little thing, peach, and bunny. Here, he's a mid-century man and speaks + fucks like it

contents: smut, against a window smut, it’s just smut and you fuck a smarmy ghost. Can I tell you it’s smut again?? here’s the link to my Halloween fic with ghost JR Scheimpough + here’s the link to the art that started it all from Skoshibuns on Instagram + tag list: @damnitkyla + 💤 anon honorable mentions lol — can be read independently of the work this is based on or together, whatever gets your rocks off length: 2.7k note: anon, I got VERY carried away with the concept — many thanks to you, little sinner ;)

Having a ghostly roommate didn’t turn out so bad, especially now that you have company and companionship and a partner that knows he’s lucky to have you. You’re quite fortunate that JR’s got a tendency to show you just how appreciative and grateful he is for your presence.

Including now, as he interrupted your Sunday cleaning when you tried to wipe down the windows to coming up from behind and helping you make a mess of them.

“What’re you up to here?”

You turn back from where you stand before the upstairs hallway window, spray bottle of glass cleaner in one hand and an old rag in the other.

“Just cleaning! Saw from outside when I got back from work yesterday that the window looked a bit smudged,” smiling up at him, brows raised, face innocent, “just figured I could clean it up before it started to bother me.”

JR hums, noncommittal, and you go back to cleaning the window and humming along to the song stuck in your head idly and moving along as you wipe the glass, hearing the warping noise as you go along.

As you try and clean the bottom half of the floor to ceiling length window, you kneel and send the skirt of your dress pooling around your thighs as you wipe the glass clean, revealing more clarity. By the time you stand after setting down the cleaner and rag, you feel the air shift and know JR’s hovering.

“Hello again.”

About to turn, you feel his cold hands wrap around your waist and settle low on your belly, head near yours. “Hi there.”

You purse your lips and try to look at him from the angle, brows furrowed but amused nonetheless. “What’re you up to? You’re a bit clingy today.”

“What, is there something wrong with holding onto you?” JR sends back, speaking into the skin of your neck and sending a chill up your spine with the icy touch. “Why don’t you take a break so you can warm me up?”

“C’mon JR,” You whine, pouting yourself, “I need to clean, I just got this window done and I should do the others.” His eyes flicker with something you don't necessarily recognize and before you know it, he’s got you against the window, encircled by the chill of the glass and of him.

“Look too good to pass up,” he mutters low and hollow in your ear, “shame that you’ll have to clean this window again.” JR grins brightly into the column of your throat, more felt than seen, while his hands drift to your dress and undo the little button on the side and the tied bow, letting it fall and pool at your ankles and does the same to your panties.

He's stripped you bare before the window, the risk that met the proposed reward fleeting as he smooths a hand down your now bare belly to splay across your mons and lower stomach, rubbing at the flushed skin there and feeling you twitch at the chill he always brings, even to the most heated parts of yourself.

You hiss as your nipples pebble against the cool of the glass, chills raise across your body, standing your hair on edge, biting your lip as he soothes you in soft praise, nearly warmed by it as he cups your sex while you stand bare.

He's clothed this time, not like it matters because if your neighbors walk down the street or stare a bit too hard at the third floor of the house, they'll just get a view of you alone with your tits out and squished against the window pane.

"C'mon baby, let me have a chance to show you off'a little, you know how quiet it can be in this house," JR murmurs, nosing at your jaw and breathing shakily once you mewl as his fingers finally curl in the heat of your cunt, the warmth felt in his spine as yours does, feeding off the fire you produce, licking the flames like he does the sweat off your neck. "There's my pretty thing, cooing all sweet for me, taking my fingers so well. So fuckin' pretty," JR comments, kissing your cheek as the other presses to the glass, watching the puffs of your panting breath fogging the glass.

"JR, p-please," you whine, lifting your leg against the glass a bit for him to get the message, his hand lowering from your waist to curl on the underside of your knee, raising it against the window to expose your cunt to the cool of the air. He whistles when he catches the reflection, spotting the shine of your slick from the smears between your thighs and the way it glosses the puffy lips of your pussy, drenched and gleaming for him all on display.

"Looking mighty fine there peach, wish I had a camera," JR croons as he smooths your hair back to nestle his head on your shoulder, wrapping an arm around your torso to squeeze at your tit while the other slides from your walls with a lewd, resounding squelch that makes you moan aloud, brokenly, allowing JR to watch your throat bob in the reflection.

"Maybe a — ah, fuuck — a-another time, baby," you mutter, rocking your hips back and whining once you feel his erection against your ass, wanting him deep like yesterday, like last year. It's promising, the idea of having him documented and real as he pumps your cunt with abandon, and it sends your belly clenching taut with the concept. JR seems to like your reaction, because he makes a noise of approval, guttural and from deep in his chest, sounding it out in a groan of your name as he presses against your back as he cages you in.

“I’ll hold you to it,” 

He punctuates his words with grinds against your backside, a hand cupping the cleft of your ass cheek to widen between your legs so he can slide himself in the pooling slick of your sex. “God, sound so good — ya’hear that?” 

And how could you not? As JR slicks himself in your arousal, you hear it, lewd and raunchy and utterly debauched as you gush for him, thighs sticky and letting him fluidly shift back and forth, drawing in and out until the cockhead catches at your clit. You nod, unable to not hear how wet you are for him in the quiet of the house. 

“Pretty pussy’s practically cryin’ for me baby, and you didn’t want to take a break,” he chides, pointed teeth precariously draping over vital veins, grazing with mirth rather than malice, “want me to let you go back to cleaning?” 

Shaking your head, you sigh breathily and give a weak “Nuh uh” in disagreement, leaning your weight back onto him with his chest supporting your lax spine, easing the burden of standing as he toys with you like a doll. 

“Gonna’ have to speak up, peach,” JR shoots back, tone of voice making it sound like a suggestion, but even when cock-drunk, you know better, “wanna’ have you earn it, right pretty baby?” 

“Yessir,” you slur, tongue heavy as he drags his cock between your lips and covers the sound of your moan with a hand he brings to your lips from your cunt, saturated in your desire as you swallow it down eagerly, hollowing your cheeks as you peer back at him through the glass at his eyes, nearly translucent beyond the glint in them. It always reminds you that he’s not truly a good man, never was one. 

It’s a good thing you don’t care. And besides, he more than makes up for it in how he lays you down. 

“Wanna’ be good f’you, take everything you give me.” 

“That’s right, such a good little bunny. Now breathe for me, I’ve got you,” he gives as a brief warning, shifting your ass and thigh up so he can lean his cock back to sink it deep into your cunt, slowly bottoming out as he hears your cunt suck him in, taking every inch of him. 

You shudder when you feel him knock at your cervix, fat cockhead rubbing deep enough for you to feel it when you inhale, noting the base of him that never fits anyhow as he rocks back and forth slowly, balls patting at your ass as he speeds up. With one hand pressed in support to the window surface, you lean the other back around his neck to nestle in his hair and tug approvingly when his strokes hit just right. 

“Fuck, right there, give it to me please baby,” you beg outright, uncaring about anything other than cumming around his cock and getting stuffed full, certainly forgetting about the window and the whole voyeur thing JR has going on. However, he hadn’t and fulfills your wishes by snapping his hips faster as requested with a dual purpose, especially since he’s got the attention of that pesky neighbor of yours, the one who can’t seem to get the hint and continues to flirt with you. 

By now, seeing you getting fucked against the glass and literally drooling against it by him, using a little flair to make sure he seems as real as possible and nearly human, and how he fucks the breath and sanity from you, JR assumes that your neighbor will leave you the fuck alone. 

He’d also admit he’s gotten quite a bit closer to cumming from having someone see you as fucked-out as you are when it's all because of him. 

The hand that tugs taut at his hair gets him to focus more of his attention on you instead of grinning through the glass, even if he is pleased as punch. “About to cum?” 

You nod, eyes watery in the weight of overwhelmed tears, lip puffy and slick in your spit from you gnawing on it as you gasp and cry for him as he splits you open on his cock, the sound of him colliding in smacks of his hips against your ass have your lids fluttering even as you try and shift your hips back. 

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself on me, nearly there with’ya,” JR groans, snaking a hand from your waist down to your clit again, collecting some slick where it pools at your lips, raising it back up to roll his fingertips over your bundle of nerves in smooth strokes and start spelling out his name, the full one he’s only whispered to you once you’ve fallen asleep most nights. 

Even though you don’t know what he’s spelling, or even what he’s doing beyond piping you well and sending your belly taut as you feel your orgasm building, clenching around him and hearing him stifle a nearly pained sounding groan against the skin of your shoulder. The nosy neighbor is no longer his concern. Rather, getting you to cum around him as soon as possible becomes the highest goal and his one priority. 

His other hand guides your faltering hips back and forth as he slows his pace to go deeper, kissing at your cervix with his cockhead every time he bottoms out, loving the wet splurching noise your cunt makes every time he slides in and out thoroughly. 

With a few more swipes of your clit, you’re nearly there, mewling incoherent words to him as he fucks you dumb against the window, any thoughts emerging as pants against now-heated glass that fog the surface. “Atta’ babe, m’almost there, just gotta’ give me a second, okay?” 

You coo in response, pleased and a bit drowsy with your eyes half-lidded, tits squished between yourself and the window panes. JR’s grip on your fleshy hip tightens, squeezing the dough of your side in his hand as he rubs at your clit. You’re glad you’ve got him standing you up, your knees had given out long ago. 

“Wanna’ cum, c’mon JR, baby please, fuck, fuck — need it.” 

“Need, oh f-fuck, need wha’ peach?” he falters as your cunt clenches taut, feeling himself nearly cum then and there, getting back to his pace as he kisses at your neck. 

“Need your cum, need it s’bad,” whining, you tell him, shifting your hips back with his guidance as you jut your lip out in a pout, tugging on his hair and eliciting another groan from him. 

The admission gets him going, pinching at your clit as he releases deep into your cunt with a cry of your name, deeply uttered into the salt of your skin. The cool of him within your cunt sends you gushing not a whole moment later, neck craned back as you cry aloud open-mouthed, arching against him as he holds onto you, fucking the both of you through your climaxes in short, stuttery thrusts. 

He weakens after a while, slowing to a stop where he locks his knees back to support you, feeling himself flicker from solid to semi-transparent. JR’s eyes are closed shut, head knelt to your shoulder as if in prayer, meanwhile you’ve got your head leaned atop his, meagerly blinking your eyes open to catch a glimpse of the ceiling. 

You falter, setting your weight onto your own feet before catching yourself and leaning back, letting JR’s hand shift to wrap his arm around your waist, easing you to remain still as his other hand guides his now-soft cock out from you, making him hiss once the air greets him as you whine, clenching around nothing due to his absence. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up then into bed for a nap, peach,” JR suggests, exhaustion lacing his tone as he tucks himself back into his pants before reaching for your clothes on the floor, leaving the cleaning products behind for him to take care of later. It’s the least he can do anyhow. 

You hum, turning around and leaning against his side as he walks you to your bedroom, his shoes clacking against the hardwood as your bare feet softly tread. 

JR eases you into the en suite bathroom so he can wipe you down between your thighs, letting you sit at the edge of the tub as he does so, smiling a tad as he realizes that he finally addresses you here in a nearly similar condition. 

“Doing so well for me, almost done,” he praises, kissing at the swells of your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb smooths over the indent of the glass against your face. He guides you back to bed after, tossing the rag in the dirty clothes bin on the way out as he snags a shirt and a pair of baggy shorts for you, helping you into them and then under the covers. 

JR watches as you nestle into bed, a dopey and freshly-fucked smile upon your face meeting his own, unable to not match the joy you radiate. A beat passes and he goes to leave and let you sleep before you break the silence. 

“So, Hank saw?” 

He blinks, tilting his head and feigning confusion, hiding the bob of his throat.. “Hank?” 

“The neighbor that keeps bothering me that you want to kill, the one who took a good look at my tits while you were plowing me like a workman’s horse,” you offer as you smooth the covers over your waist, curling up against the pillows and staring up at him from where he sits at the edge of the bed. 

He hesitates before muttering out a quiet “maybe” that makes you snicker, nose upturning as you nearly giggle, wriggling deeper into the bed and its comfort. 

“Eh, fuck him. I don’t think he’ll be messing with me anymore.” murmuring, you shut your eyes as you continue to giggle, dark and devilish as you grin against the pillows, peeking at him between little fits of laughter. 

He heads out, fading more and more as he heads to the door, nearly glassy in how the sharpest features are his eyes, glinting beneath his metal-edged frames. JR falters though, lingering by the door as you whisper his name, getting his head to turn just as you smile soft, adoringly, and it nearly breaks his heart how perfect you look in this moment. 

“Thank you JR.” 

He smiles and it wrinkles the lines in his face, making him look like a happier man. 

“Anytime peach.”

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 20

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

The next day, Victor gathered all of Crown in the dining room, something that rarely happens.

Facing the members that had gathered, Liam talked about everything that happened to him.

The encounter with his father, his fate, and — the reason why he chose to end his own life.

Victor: In other words, your father is still alive, told you that “Golden Butterfly” is backing him, and he wants you dead.

Victor: … You weren’t mistaken?

Liam: Yeah, it’s not a mistake, Victor. I’m sure I heard those words directly from his mouth.

(“Golden Butterfly”? I’ve heard that name before…)

(Oh…)

– Flashback Start –

William: “Shut up and stop moving. Answer my question with honesty”.

Mansion Owner: …!

William: “Golden Butterfly” — do you know anything about it?

– Flashback End –

Kate: Is “Golden Butterfly” the one William mentioned on the night I tagged along for my first mission…?

William gave me a wide grin while sitting leisurely in his chair.

William: Yes. “Golden Butterfly” is an organisation’s symbol, in other words — it’s a code name.

Kate: Does having a code name for it mean that this organisation is not meant to be known to the public?

Victor: There was a time in England where there were people who trampled on freedom and dignity.

Victor: That group of people are known as — “Golden Butterfly”.

Kate: “There was a time”...?

Victor: William annihilated “Golden Butterfly” many years ago.

Victor: By punishing every single person who had anything to do with “Golden Butterfly”, one at a time…

William’s blood red eyes didn't even shake, they were like a calm sea.

William: Liam. Your father was part of “Golden Butterfly” when that organisation still existed.

Liam: … This is the first time I’m hearing that.

William: That’s understandable. You were still a child back then. The Evans family built up their fortune in just one generation.

William: Ultimately, even though they had more money than they could ever possibly spend, that was not enough to make them nobles.

Elbert: … You’re saying that he wanted to gain higher peerage by being involved with that organisation?

William: Yes.

Jude: Hah. He’ll never be a nobleman, no matter how far he goes. What’s the point in wanting something so stupid?

Alfons: Different people value things differently.

Alfons: A pebble on the roadside may appear to be a jewel to that person.

William: And so he joins the major organisation called “Golden Butterfly”.

William: He was at the lowest of the lowest ranks in the organisation… and what he did was undeniably evil.

Ellis: What on earth did he do, exactly?

William: Securing distribution channels to obtain raw materials for diacetylmorphine production, and bribery.

Roger: … I see.

Roger: So those guys from “Golden Butterfly” were manufacturing highly addictive drugs behind closed doors. Hah, that’s rather nasty.

Ellis: Nasty? Why?

Roger: The drug can be used to make someone dependent on it, it can also be used to blackmail someone for using that drug… nasty, right?

Roger's words made my skin crawl.

(... I can’t believe such an organisation existed in England.)

Harrison: Will. You’re the type to thoroughly condemn those you deem as evil.

Harrison: Liam’s father is no exception. However…

Harrison: Everyone, including yourself, thought that he “died” in that fire at the Evans family’s mansion.

William: …

Kate: Wait, what…?

Ellis: What’s the matter, Kate?

Kate: If “Golden Butterfly” had already been annihilated by William, then why did that name resurface now?

Kate: Could it be…

Victor: Ah, that's not quite true.

Victor: What William did only made “Golden Butterfly” lay low for a while.

Victor: — However, someone is trying to make the butterfly flap its wings again.

Kate: … Is that why William went to look for “someone” that night?

William: Yes. Evil is something that can always rise back up, isn't it?

The king of self-righteousness, who fought evil with evil, smiled.

William: — Say, Liam.

Liam: What is it, Will?

William: What do you want to do?

Liam: Huh…?

William: I’m not completely certain that your father has ties to the butterfly that is starting to show signs of revival.

William: Victor and I will continue investigating this matter.

Victor: …

William: However, I will not let him off for his past sins.

William: Do you want to make your father pay for his sins with your own hands? Or—

William: If you don’t do it yourself, someone else from here will take care of it.

Urged by William’s blood red eyes, I looked at Harrison.

Harrison: …

(Surely everyone here is prepared to punish Liam’s father.)

(I’ve seen the members of Crown “fight evil with evil”, because that’s who they are.)

William: There’s no need to rush, you can give your answer when your heart is set.

Liam: … Okay.

Victor: Ah, right, William. Liam’s situation aside, we need to come up with a punishment!

Kate: A punishment…?

Victor: If someone is plotting to revive Golden Butterfly…

Victor: I thought I’d make it clear that I will punish that person as many times as necessary.

Elbert: … But how?

Alfons: The person behind its revival has yet to be identified, have they?

Alfons: If we don’t know whose bum we’re spanking, it’ll be hard to torment them.

William: Therefore, it’s Liam’s turn.

Liam: Me?

William: You’re a stage actor who steals the hearts of your audience, right?

William: The plan is for you to use your talent to express our intention to stop the revival of Golden Butterfly.

Jude: Hah. That sounds more like a threat than a statement.

Liam: Erm… in other words…

Liam: “The butterfly will not be revived. Anyone who tries to revive it, will be punished again and again”.

Liam: You want me to convey that message to the audience through my performance?

William: Yes. Through all ages and countries, the arts have moved the hearts of many.

William: During the war, music was heavily regulated because it was said to have the power to influence the hearts and minds of people.

William tapped on the dining table with his red nails.

William: We will add a drop of poison into the play. And it slowly spread to all of England…

Kate: … Then it will kill off any plans to revive “Golden Butterfly”.

William: Very clever, Kate. As expected from Crown’s fairytale writer.

William smiled and stood up.

William: I’ll leave you to decide how to put that into action, Liam.

William: All of you, please lend Liam a hand. Victor, we will continue our investigations.

Victor: Yeah.

Victor: Well then, my beloved cursed ones, I shall leave the rest to you.

Roger: Haha, is that so?

Harrison: Geez, there you go again, doing whatever you want.

…

The sound of William and Victor’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallways.

Victor: — Making use of theatre is a very long winded way of doing things, considering that it's coming from you, Will.

William: I thought that would be your plan as well, is it not?

Victor: Yeah, it is.

Victor: Liam… that kid doesn't realise how beautiful and free he is.

Victor: I’ve always wanted him to realise that and free himself from the binding spell of his past.

William: … Yes, you’re right.

William: We shall do what we must — fight evil with evil.

…

After the meeting had ended, I went to get some fresh air.

Even in the calm of the night, I was enveloped by the fragrance of the beautiful flowers blooming around me.

I took a deep breath and found myself becoming more relaxed.

(William must've given Liam the freedom of choice to let him settle the matter by himself.)

I didn’t know what form of condemnation Liam would choose for his biological father.

What would be the “right thing”? However…

In the world full of uncertainty, I knew one thing for certain and it was that I wanted to stay by Liam’s side.

That was all.

???: London bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down ♪

(That voice…)

???: London bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down ♪

(It’s Liam’s voice.)

I started walking in the direction of the sweet voice.

Liam: London bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down ♪

(... I see him.)

Liam had a somewhat fragile look as he hummed a song without noticing my presence.

Driven by my fear of him disappearing again, I found myself holding his arm.

Liam: Kate…

Liam: Ahaha… that startled me. What's the matter?

Kate: Sorry for startling you. Um…

Liam: …

Liam: … I’m not going to disappear.

(Huh?)

Liam: I don't ever want to disappear before your eyes again.

There was a passionate look in his rose coloured eyes as he gazed at me, and I was so mesmerised that I forgot how to breathe.

(... I don’t think I’ve seen this look in Liam’s eyes before.)

We’ve exchanged glances like this many times, but somehow that felt like it was the first time.

(... What is this?)

The slight change made my heart go crazy.

It made me want to embrace the change.

Liam: Hey, Kate.

Liam: I couldn’t take your hand back then. However—

[dballzposting]

What Yajirobe does all day up there in Korin's tower is one of the biggest mysteries in dragon ball and so that's why I'm glad that in DBS they showed us that they play limbo

Korin definitely has found ways to pass the time because he's lived there for thousands of years probably and I'm not really curious about what he's up to. He's doing Korin things. Mind your business

When I was watching dragom ball I remember loving so much what I was seeing with those two but I was never able to really put into words what I was seeing .. I'm going to try but I'm going to miss a lot so please use your own heart and memory skillz to rember how awesome dragom ball was okkkk.. ❤

Why did that beautiful user draw him licking that damn cat. That was so (as one blessed user wrote in the tags:) Evocative.

I've since found out that TeamFourStar had some... interesting takes when portraying those two so I suppose that the madness of intimacy between them is not a new thing to many people... but it was NEWS TO ME so let me throw my hat in the ring a minute ...

I definitely don't think that they become how TFS did it and I definitely don't think that they settle like an old married couple.

But does he lick that cat?

Loose collection of extensive thoughts (6500 WORDS) about Yajirobe and Korin:

Master Korin is an old hermit. Like any old wise hermit, he's a crazy bitch. Hes got his idiosyncrasies. But by-and-by he can hold his own and is much more balanced and stable than some other hermits out there.

Before Goku, the last person he had up there was Roshi, like... 800 years ago? I think that was the number.

Hes been up there for probably Thousands of years. Being a hermit.

WHAT'S HE DO? He stands around. He watches Earth. He naps. He grooms. He meditates. He stays sharp. He reads little books probably (fun books). Probably has a flowerbed he waters. Makes little origami figures maybe. Weird sculptures. One pebble at a time.

Doesn't really matter.

Hes a sensible fellow. He's got good advice and he's got astute eyes. I think that when Roshi was up there for three years, he got comfortable enough to start pulling out the nudie mags (back then they weren't magazines but drawings). And Master Korin would BOP him on the head with his stick - telling him that he will never be a great warrior with a distracted mind, that he will never have a pure heart if he continues on like this-!

Korin wont allow filth like that up there. Classy depictions are one thing but lewd obsessions are another. And he tells Roshi to throw the drawings away. And well Roshi doesn't. He just hides them.

And eventually we absolutely get to the point where Korin will look at them too. Yes yes very nice. Woah. WOAH. Hand me that one there. WOAH! Eloquent handiwork here. Impressive. Nice. Very nice.

And then Korin hits him on the head and tells him again to dispose of them.

Korin wont allow that filth up there except he totally will and does. It's more than that "he doesnt give a shit" - hes a wise old hermit and he knows better than to try to control the flow of life. So he has a lot of grace when it comes to accepting events and other people's natures. When Roshi first arrived, he wouldn't tolerate it because Roshi was there to train and could still be saved. But after a while it became clear that Roshi was going to keep looking at those sexy drawings, and Korin isn't interested in the unrest of endless animosity. He says his two-cents and he will keep saying it but he cannot afford to keep getting angry. He cannot afford to lose his composure every time. This is just the way it is. And he bops Roshi on the head with his stick about it. And he isn't surprised when Roshi keeps pulling the drawings out again.

He sighs about it and shakes his head and mutters. He still cares enough to do that. He isn't a zen buddhist about it or anything. He isn't too fatalistic. He does work towards a better world.

About that better world ... He will work towards it, but he also is perceptive enough to know when to give up. For example, he admitted after Goku defeated Piccolo that he didn't really think that Goku could have really done that. He let Goku try because ... That's Goku's will, and because, well, it's a nice thought, isn't it? But if Goku had died, Korin would not have been surprised. He was willing to accept the inevitable.

But he didn't admit that until after. During, he cared enough to go against the odds and to aid the cause of good. Korin is a wise old hermit who knows how to read the tide but he DOES play a team - the side of virtue, unequivocally. Hes got opinions.

Korin doesn't just let any bastard up there and and he absolutely has standards. Hes a little bit snarky or feisty because hes an OLD CAT! But hes also pretty reasonable. And he can be nice enough.

When Yajirobe first showed up there, Korin was accommodating. And he was even impressed by his strength.

And later he tried to offer him tea. Becasue that's what you do when you have company.

And we see them talk a few times in filler shots. And they're both chill about it.

OK wait there was one scene that was so funny where Korin was telling Goku about how one has to be pure of heart in order to go see Kami-Sama. And how Goku fit those qualifications perfectly. UNLIKE YAJIROBE

^ he just went out of his way to YELL at him like this ... CHECK OUT HIS FANGS. ME-OWCH!

That's Korin. He's got quick eyes. He knew to yell at Yajirobe. He knew that Yajirobe deserved it

Yajirobe was only there because he had to bring Goku up there (twice). Okay sidebar

YAJIROBE:

He shows up in the story when it has taken an abysmal turn. A nosedive toward devastation. And we're following Goku who has snapped out of shape from circumstance. And we're watching him navigate this. And navigate he does becasue he is still alive. And it's bizarre, becasue we're seeing something that usually isn't in stories; usually stories are what is dramatically satisfying, stories have direction. But at this point in the narrative, Goku is just ... alive. He almost died. Hes starving and trying to do something about it, lest wait for death. Krillin is still dead. What's to be done, but to....do. it's.....peaceful, in a harrowing way. Unobserved. And then Enter Yajirobe. Hes not a diamond in the rough necessarily, but we are definitely digging around in the rough, or you could even say we're in the shitter at this point- and hes no diamond, but he's more than dirt. He's a shard of obsidian in the rough, maybe. Hes something. And we find him and we're still in the rough.

To elaborate further: this little dip in the story speaks of survival and persistence. Bear with me. When it comes to Yajirobe and Goku's character, there is between them an interesting tango of physical health VS higher moral spirit. First, because this part of the story is a flagging physical existence underscoring an absence of higher hope, we meet the hedonistic, physically adroit, and survival-minded Yajirobe to attend to that necessary foundation. This is a virtue that Yajirobe offers our hero now, and later on too as their characters progress through difference scenes (more on that later). This simple Yajirobe contrasts with the pure-hearted Goku who struggles to retain his character in the overwhelming mess of his enraged and wounded spirit, but through this Goku must also find a way to persist (this isn't resolved until Mr Popo beats that attitude out of him). So Yajirobe's character first teaches of treating the most basic realm (physical survival which extends into persistence of being), and then highlights through contrast the extent of our hero's honor and prowess (which, you could take as a direct contrast, or you could take as a comparison, saying that emotional/spiritual expression and sustenance is just as key for survival as saving your skin is; persistence of being is resilience of character). Yajirobe's debut being at this miserable point in the story is what creates his character for us - the shining obsidian in the rough. He's a survivor.

He is able to keep up with Goku. He swims as fast as he and runs as fast as he. When they fight each other they both remark in their heads that this is one of the strongest guys that they've ever faced (Goku had kicked him with his full strength and Yajirobe stood back up all the same...!). And he eats Cymbal like it's no big deal, against even Goku's protests.

we receive no indication that Yajirobe has received any formal training. It seems that Yajirobe has acquired his abilities by just .. practice. Out here Livin it. He got that katana from somewhere but he's just out here surviving.

The wikis identify him as the ronin (masterless samurai) archetype, right down to his outfit. This is awesome.

He is truly built different. He's fully human and entirely different. He's selfish but not malignantly. He's oriented toward his own safety, survival, and comfort, and he allocates all of his resources toward these goals, and in this he is effective: he doesn't waste time procrastinating or playing the hero (WITH SOME NOTABLE EXCEPTIONS..!!!!) He's built different and doesn't need or WANT friends. He doesn't want to be bothered. He wants the freedom to be alone. If he wanted to settle down in one area then he would have built a house. But he hasn't, presumably because before long a mailman would find him and connect him to a greater society. So Yajirobe is just out here hunting and sleeping and staying on the move. He's completely happy and self-actualized to do so.

Yajirobe can be lazy and cowardly but still, not quite ... to be cowardly implies you are going against your greater want or virtue. He never intends to be anything but SAFE, so he's not cowardly, just smart and goal-oriented. To be lazy implies that aspects of your life suffer because you don't put any resources toward them - and he never intends to be anything but well-rested and content, so hes not lazy, just comfortable. Furthermore: Yajirobe doesn't put off hard work when it's in his path. He doesn't procrastinate. He really does want to make his life enjoyable, so he doesn't burden himself by half-assing something multiple times. He saves himself the resources and the headache by doing it right the first time. If he has to swim an ocean, he'll do it. If he has to run for miles, he'll do it. If he has to fight a dinosaur until it's dead, he'll do it. He is indeed effective. He doesn't like to waste his own breath, but he is not afraid to use it to max capacity if the results will be worth it. And when he was trying to outrun Goku to earn some damn peace and quiet (and to retain the one-star ball), he was truly willing to run for this, until he found a cart of hay bumping along a lonely road. Then he was like SCORE and took a nap on it and let it move him along for him. It was definitely much more slow then running, but it was comfy, and convenient, and Yajirobe is opportunistic that way. HE WONT WASTE A CHANCE TO SLEEP!

Yajirobe is really good at securing his own survival. In DBS, in the bad future timeline, he survives like a cockroach! He really is just built different. He's a beautiful bastard

Again I want to comment on his appearance in the story ... Even when shit gets crazy and you don't think that you could sink any lower, you could always meet a guy with a katana who is HUGELY skilled when compared to the general populace but you didn't know about him because he didn't want to be found. That is always possible. Anythinf is possible

He does what he must and he takes rests when he can and he defends his own and he hides from the bullshit and he is CONFIDENT in all of this. He doesn't cut corners, and everything he does, he does with conviction. If he shows up late, he's not late - he showed up exactly when he meant to. If he doesn't want to do something, he won't. You could always try to convince him of course and you might succeed with a compelling enough argument or incentive (Ex: he didn't throw the baby Trunks out of the window because he didn't want to invoke Vegeta's ire. Ex: He'll do anything for a Yajirobe Snack in fact that's why he climbed Korin's tower for the first time), and that's all good and fine. He wont act like his mind wasn't changed if it was. Well he may try to fight against it due to an internal conflict of interest but who doesn't hedge a bit at times like that ... Whatever he does or doesn't do, he wont feel shame. He womt feel shame. He wont feel shame.

Yajirobe doesn't know shame. This is key. Well actually more astutely he doesn't know embarrassment. Embarrassment is inherently a social thing, and he just doesn't subscribe to it. He doesn't CARE if he does what's unexpected or rude. He does exactly as he intends to for whatever reason he has. He doesn't care how he fits into a general society! He'd be more angry than embarrassed if you forsake him in a social faux pas context. He doesn't feel that much shame either, but that's not necessarily a social thing, and he can feel it sometimes. If he fails to honor himself adequately he would feel shame, I think, as his one priority is always to protect number 1 (himself). Sometimes that shame may come from losing a fight, or not hiding well enough, or being stupid enough to get involved - and other times, not honoring himself means not acting on the nagging pull in his chest to INTERVENE and DO SOMETHING. I mean, he can handle a lot of life at once - he lives here, and he knows how to earn his keep here, and he has the right to be curious and hover around fights, and he has the right to have opinions about it.

He's always standing around and crossing his arms protectively and responding with animosity .... hes always making snap judgements that are completely true ... he doesn't care who you are or what your name is. You can't talk to him that way.

Yajirobe represents something special to me .... he represents an organism who is successful in being with itself and standing up for itself. Convincingly. I think that that's so beauriful and importsnt ...

Ok anyway.

So Yajirobe ascends Korin's tower becasue Goku is beaten to shit and he tells Yajirobe that theres beans up there and so Yajirobe commits to this tower. And he totally makes it. And when he gets up there Korin is impressed at how Yajirobe climbed the entire tower with Goku on his back.

And then later after Goku defeats Piccolo Daimao for real, Yajirobe carts his ass up there AGAIN and if I recall he just did that out of his own volition. WHY? BECASUE IT WAS A MATTER OF SURVIVAL. He serves those sorts of imperatives.

Yajirobe intervened two other notable times earlier in the story for the sake of Goku's survival: 1.) When he swiped his cadaver from the scene of the first Piccolo Daimao battle and revived him in a river, and 2.) When he tried very very VERY hard to convince Goku to NOT drink that super special water that was most likely poison but would possibly make Goku stronger. The latter example felt less like a character caring about the death of another and more about a debate of greater philosophical importance, like they were discussing the true rules of the world: must one put their life on the line to free their soul, or is it always better to be rational about the preservation of one's physical health? This scene was the culmination of Yajirobe's purpose in the story.

Worth mentioning: When Goku did ascend to Kami's Lookout, we get a scene where Yajirobe is sitting on the railing of Korin's tower and staring up into the sky. He admits that he's looking up because he feels like Goku might fall down at any second, and he wants to be there to catch him if he does.

^That's what I was referring to earlier when I said that Yajirobe offers Goku the much-needed virtue of survival and that there would be "more on that later." Goku is always meeting different characters who teach him different skills or perspectives, and at this late point in the story, you would expect that he meet another wise hermit type who is truly above and beyond. But instead we go backwards and touch base again with the most basic of necessities, and it's applicable in context because Goku's spirit is so wounded and confused by grief that he needs that physical anchor as to not lose himself entirely. He's Goku though and quickly reorients himself and is able to apply that virtue of persistence to all of him, and his argument trumps the unambitious Yajirobe's as the purpose of the story.

Anyway. Back to the point of my post...

As you know, Yajirobe stays in Korin tower for forever and ever. He attends the 23rd Budokai, in DBZ he trains with Kami, he hangs around during the first Vegeta battle, he delivers the Senzu Beans and then stays at Capsule Corp for the remainder of the Android Arch - ETC. But by and by. For the most part. We see him up there in that damn tower with that damn cat eating those damn Senzus!

It's no big mystery by now:

Yajirobe avoids hassle and wants to be comfortable. It's safe up in Korin's Tower. Very removed. Very quiet. There is only one (1) other guy up there and he's not THAT annoying. He mostly just waters the plants and grooms himself out in the open and takes cat naps. And when Yajirobe first sees Korin licking his little furry cat balls out in the open like that, he thinks in his head: "That's disgusting. I would never do that." But then two years up in Korin's Tower later and how do YOU think that Yajirobe is bathing?? :cry laughing emoji:

So ... Why does Master Korin LET him stay? Let's break it down:

As mentioned at the beginning of the post, Korin likes to hang out in a place of agreeable temperament. He won't turn rude for fickle reasons. He likes tea and naps and peace. Yajirobe likes those things too and spends most of his time advocating for those things.

Korin is a Crazy Old Hermit Cat Bitch. Completely insane. He's petty and all of his reasons are fickle but he doesn't think that they are. Like any good old hermit, he has no qualms with YELLING at Yajirobe. He can handle Yajirobe. He probably bites him

Korin is first and foremost an old martial artist hermit. He subscribes to a greater harmony in and with the world. His role, and only role, is to assess those who are worthy. While Goku is at Kami's Lookout and Yajirobe stays behind with Korin, Korin tells Yajirobe that he will never ride Kinto-un. I mean anybody could have ascertained that but it's uniquely Korin's role to tell him that. But Korin doesn't just sit idly by. He wants to instill virtue in the next generation of warriors. He keeps certain secrets and skills away from evil hands, and he does what he can for the side of good. And Yajirobe is some young punk who is clearly worthy in strength to scale that tower twice with Goku on his back in such a short time, but is of a wretchedly bound spirit. And Korin is a mischievous little cat hermit bitch and can't help but to see potential, or even a game when there is one: he's not going to turn down this opportunity to try to turn virtuous this bastard soul, whether subtly or not.

Furthermore: Yajirobe isn't evil. Korin can't bring himself to banish someone who isn't truly evil and who has scaled the tower with his own discipline.

Over time it becomes clear that Yajirobe isn't changing and Korin has to accept him as a person and not as a student, and honestly that's great because Korin is kind of lazy too ... He didn't want to be training this whole time like DAMN. FINALLY he can just CHILL... Yajirobe's virtue is NOT Korin's problem and that's such a relief. And eventually Korin becomes content to just watch Golden Girls DVDs with Yajirobe. Because Korin is a cat who appreciates sleepy time with a warm body.

Korin Can't Kick Him Out if he Wanted To becasue Yajiorbe is just going to Keep Coming Back because the Peace and Solitude is too Tempting and well Who is Korin to Deny Fate its Sick Little Games

And don't think that Korin doesn't mess with Yajiorbe becasue he absolutely does. He'll walk up his back and use him as a ladder. Or he'll put a flagon of ale on his stick and make Yajiorbe try to catch him for it. I truly cannot figure out if Yajirobe would give up when it becomes arduous becasue he doesnt want to waste his energy being mocked, or if he keeps at it becasue He Wants That Ale God Damnit. But wither way it'd be fun for at least 30 minutes.

So. Ummmmmmm.

Back to the thesis. DOES HE LICK THAT CAT?

Well...

I will say that I do think that they both keep a respectful physical distance for a while. Out of courtesy for themselves. Korin is a self-respecting cat hermit who is too wise to be trifled with and who doesn't want anything to mess up his fur. Yajirobe is a self-respecting vagabond who knows that his body is a temple and who won't tolerate arbitrary annoyances done to it.

I will say however that early on we have that scene where Yajirobe was stashing Senzu Benas on his person and Korin saw the lump in his clothes and thought that Yajirobe was hiding a tasty treat. And it's Korin's damn tower and he wants those damn treats so he PUT HIS PAWS ON HIM and TORE HIS CLOTHES OPEN. Very rude. Screenshots below

CHECK OUT HIS CLAWS IN THE SECOND ONE.

Korin is a QUICK read of character (of course he is...!) and after only knowing Yajirobe for a few days he KNEW that if he was stashing anything it was yummy food...! He was so sure of it and he so wanted it for himself that he tore his clothes off for it. He's such a crazy bitch

This is not a good example of them respecting the other's personal space but my sense is that it's becasue this is right at the beginning and the dynamic of Korin being a wise hermit and Yajirobe being an irreverent youth is apparent. Korin can put his paws on him. He can do what he wants. It's his tower. And Yajirobe is just some kid.

But I'm arguing that this dissolves over time. Yajirobe stays over the years and he DOESN'T CHANGE. He MATURES but he doesn't CHANGE. He lives his whole life that way and at some point you have to start taking him seriously, right? And Korin is not keen on blatantly disrespecting people. He's a reasonable guy. He respects others' free will and he respects their decisions.

He'll judge you, but he'll accept you. He won't expect anything from you other than what's wonted for you.

So he and Yajiorbe sleep on opposite sides of the tower because neither really wants to burden themselves with getting too close. They are exactly like diplomatic roommates. They eat meals together, they chat, they argue, but they have none of the obligations of intimacy. They are not responsible for or are interested in the other one's feelings.

And it continues this way for as long as it's due. But you know that Yajiobe is up there for literal years. And that there's not much to do up there but to interact with the only other bloke there.

OK LISTEN: A bit of a sidebar but not really because it is deathly relevant: They've always spoken candidly with each other. Neither of them are ever changing. Korin because he's already so old and this is just who he is and Yajiorbe because he's already perfect. And on DAY ONE they both got a read on the other's character that holds up TO THIS DAY.

PLEASE LISTEN: They both formulated opinions about the other on DAY ONE that never change. They never change becasue they are already dead accurate. Both are living authentically and both are students of nature in their own ways and both are incredibly perceptive for it - Korin KNEW that Yajirobe would never give him anything more than the spoken "-sama" and a courteous physical distance, he KNEW that he would never ride Kinto-un, he KNEW that he was somebody that you need to just YELL AT in order to get through to - and Yajiorbe KNEW that Master Korin was a crazy cat bitch, he KNEW that he was full of mystical shit, he KNEW that he was unreasonable in the way that everybody in the world except Yajirobe is.

No matter what time, no matter how long they've known each other - if you go up to visit it will go the same way. You're standing there talking to Master Korin and having a pleasant chat. Then he thinks to say something to Yajirobe, or to get his attention, or even to summon him or what have you - and he interrupts your perfectly pleasent mild-mannered chat to turn his head and YELL in some direction. Throws his arms back and YELLS. Attaching pic for reference

Just completely goes from sweet-old-grandpa to HARSH-YELLING-THAT-PROBABLY-HURTS-THE-THROAT.

He goes like

"YAJIROBI!"

and says it with an "i" and not an "e" becasue that's how he mispronounces his name in the Japanese dub.

And Yajiorbe obviously doesn't enter the room or anything. You hear banging from the kitchen and Yajirobe yells back

"WHAT?"

And Korin yells back and Yajiorbe yells back and this is how they do it. Yelling back and forth like somebody's sweet old grandparents who completely hate each other.

Let me freestyle something hold on

"GET OUT HERE WE HAVE A GUEST"

"AND WHY'RE YOU SCREAMING AT THEM FOR??"

"I'M SCREAMING AT YOU YOU DIM-WITTED BASTARD. GET OUT HERE SO THAT I CAN STOP"

"YOU COME IN HERE! I'M MAKING DINNER!"

"WELL STEP AWAY FOR A MOMENT AND COME MIND YOUR MANNERS!"

"YOU MIND YOURS AND I'LL MIND MINE! I'M MAKING DINNER!"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID I'M MAKING DINNER!"

"YAJIROBI! GET OUT HERE!"

"YOU DEAF ALREADY?"

"YOU KEEP MAKING ME YELL LIKE THIS AND IT WON'T BE LONG!"

"WHO'D'YOU THINK YOU ARE, BOSSING ME AROUND IN FRONT OF THE GUEST?"

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU UNGRATEFUL FREELOADER!"

"FREELO- I WAS GOING TO SHARE, BUT YOU CAN MAKE YOUR OWN DAMN DINNER!"

"MAKE IT FOR THREE, BECAUSE WE HAVE A GUEST!"

"WHO'S HERE ANYWAY?"

"IT'S GOKU?"

"WHO?"

"GOKU!"

"OH!"

[Sound of clutter and clanging. Enter YAJIROBE carrying a mixing bowl. He is stirring it with a wooden spoon.]

"Hey Goku, long time no see!"

END SCENE.

Anyway.

So That's Yajirobe and Korin. They perfectly read and completely accept the other. Neither modifies his own behavior or hamstrings himself in any way for the sake of coexisting with the other. This is just who they are. And it works out.

For decades.

I want to point out that when their relationship advances to new tiers of depth or intimacy, it must not be thought of in that manner. There are no "tiers" and we are not "advancing." They are both objective and no-nonsense people. As such, the progression of their relationship is by nature without a shred of suspense.

There are no subtle desires that are held onto until deemed appropriate to express; there are no reality-checks that yield results that startle.

They keep their space because they want to. They talk because they want to. They play games becasue they want to. Korin will claw up Yajirobe's back rather than walking up him horizontally (a known ability that he has) when using him as a ladder because he wants to. They sleep in the same space because they want to. They cuddle because they want to.

It's a long time until they cuddle like cats, but pointing it out in any manner that may evoke the word "eventually" is already giving it too much prominence. Understand that it's a gradual thing like all things and does not matter in the slightest.

ARE THEY SELF-AWARE ABOUT THIS? Yes and no.

Yajirobe doesn't care enough to do self-reflection about shit like that. One day he was barely trusted to water the Senzu plants and another day he was touching the cat's toe beans. So what. They still yelled at each other to SHUT UP every day in between. What's changed, and why does it matter? Yajirobe attaches no importance to gestures of intimacy or camaraderie - he just appreciates warmth and comfort. He trusts that cat to cuddle up and take good naps with him. All is well. So what?

Master Korin definitely meditates about the state of the world and is so aware about everything. So he is aware each and every day what is going on between he and Yajirobe. He knows when he settles down to groom that this is the first time in hundreds of years that he has settled into the crook of someone's bent elbow or neck. He knows it. And he doesn't care. Why should he? It's a fact, an event, like all things. It's nice. It's comfortable. Yajirobe can be trusted to respect his boundaries and to interact with his body in a manner that is acceptable and predictable. In the spirit of being sensible, for the cause of engaging with a greater unity - the path of least resistance right now is napping with Yajirobe.

So that's that.

Take a water break my dear ... I'm not done with you yet.

They do respect each other's personal space. But there is a point where Yajirobe picks up that damn cat.

DETAILS ON THE EVENT OF YAJIROBE PICKING UP THAT DAMN CAT:

That cat is a crafty son of a bitch and he can MOVE. His training with Goku was facilitated through Goku trying to catch him.

And Yajirobe isn't keen on grabbing that cat gratuitously. He has definitely taken many passes at him however when they play / "train" / Korin is being a nuisance on purpose and Yajirobe has had enough (like when he was tempting him with that flagon of ale and eventually Yajiorbe DOES capture that cat...)

And if one is in the other's way: Korin will just walk up and over Yajirobe (which Yajirobe HATES), and Yajirobe will either punt the cat out of the way or yell at him to move (both of which Korin HATES. Especially the kicking. It always starts arguments).

But listen. There is a point where picking up that cat becomes the path of least resistance. It will garner the least resentment and spend the least amount of time.

We get to the point where if Yajirobe is standing up at the stove trying to make his own damn dinner and that damn cat is in the way, he'll just. Pick him up and move him.

Like if Korin were blocking the flour cupboard and Yajirobe was trying to make a roux for the max and cheese then he would just. Pick up the cat. And move him somewhere else.

And Korin would be all like RRREEAAAQHQHJ like a cat does, but when he's set down he's fine. It didnt take long. He wasnt held or airborne long. Obviously it's startling to be GRABBED and FORCIBLY RELOCATED but it's over soon enough and hes cool as soon as it's over.

But still. If he didnt want to be picked up, then why did he let it happen? Couldnt he have darted out of the way?

HOW is Yajirobe able to pick up the cat?!:

On some level Korin knows that it's not a big deal. And that it's just Not Worth the energy expenditure to get away. Like how pigeons walk rather than fly away because it takes a lot of energy for lift-off: Korin COULD dart away, but he doesn't care too. He has a reason for blocking the flour cupboard (doing something, just chilling, I don't know) and he's not gonna abandon it so quickly just to prevent Yajirobe's grubby hands from touching his fur. Yajirobe isn't a big deal. Hes been there for years. He doesn't matter. And though it's an affront to be grabbed and moved, it doesn't actually take long, and Korin doesn't have to actually do anything, and he is free to express himself during, so hes not really being inconvenienced much. Deep down he knows this.

Yajirobe has gained some speed and precision during his time here. I suppose this isn't relevant here because it's not like hes trying very hard to grab the cat, but it's worth mentioning. He can be precise. He just grabs the cat. See Yajirobe didn't come here to train but like I've been saying Korin is a bit whimsical and mischievous so he's gotten his hermit due and has sharpened Yajirobe's abilities by little gambits and whatnot.

So yknow we do get to the point where A.) Korin is comfortable/trusting enough to have his guard down (and Yajirobe is not a big deal or difficult to have around) and B.) Yajirobe's movements can be hard to read/catch/predict sometimes.

WHY does he pick up the cat?!:

Yajirobe is no-nonsense and he doesn't like to waste his own time. He relocates the cat, and he does it right the first time. He's not gonna be all like "Move it furball" and then have to keep saying that because Korin moved to a random spot that is still in Yajirobe's way but just in a different way. He knows where he needs the cat and so he puts him there.

This is efficacy in the form of keeping the peace. Yajirobe doesn't care if he disrespects Korin, and when he does he means nothing by it; but if kicking the cat / punting the cat / pushing him away with his foot would cause such a fight, then he won't do it. He doesn't have the time for a fight. He's making mac n cheese.

Worth mentioning that both are probably really bored all of the time. If he doesn't grab that cat often, then this opportunity may be an enticing piece of stimuli.

So yeah he grabs that cat.

Ummm. What else is there to say........I mean I mean FURTHERMORE:

Yajirobe keeps coming back to Korin Tower. He never wanted a friend, and he never asked for a friend, but he has found someone that he becomes very comfortable with. And if Yajirobe is about personal comfort and pleasure and peace - it is very, very nice to have someone who accepts you, will have you, and who is sometimes even happy to see you. That makes relaxing easy. That makes life enjoyable. Of course he keeps coming back.

Master Korin probably appreciates the fact that there is somebody whom he knows consistently over the years. Usually when he meets someone, it's like starting over every time - but he's had years of conversation and memories with Yajirobe that they can both draw on. Korin can tell a joke and know that it'll land, and they probably have inside jokes too. And it's not like Korin has ever had, or has ever expected to have, a roommate who can be sensibly considerate. Yajirobe knows the foods Korin likes and he considers this when he goes hunting and gathering. He knows what'll piss him off and is sometimes inclined to use this knowledge for good, to keep the peace. Yajirobe may be rude, but he really is reasonable - he will do what feels nice and he'll do what needs to be done. And he doesn't mince words either. He says what he means and nothing more.

So.

DOES HE LICK THAT CAT?

Probably ....

Like I don't see why not ....

VERY IMPORTANT ELEMENT THAT I FORGOT TO WORK IN:

Do ... you know the madness of isolation? Not only that but isolation with another. Yajirobe and Korin definitely develop their own language. And since they are the only ones there, everything they do is through no one's judgement but their own. And they were already pretty comfortable with the weirdness of the world to begin with. The monotony of isolation absolutely dulls and then erases any conventions for normalcy that you had. AND WHAT WAS THERE TO BEGIN WITH? They were both already completely anti-social. At first Yajirobe wouldn't lick that cat becasue he has self-respect but he's up there so long that he grows so comfortable with Korin that he has jurisdiction over and no qualms with licking that cat. HONESTLY IT'D BE WEIRD IF HE DIDN'T?

It'd be weird if he didn't. It'd be weird if he wore judgement like a hat. It'd be weird if he denied himself anything. He licks that cat.

And the cat lets him.

Korin has just as much self-respect as Yajirobe does. He allows himself life's pleasures. He would enjoy the pleasures of trust and comfort, and he would enjoy being licked.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Korin is a wise old hermit who is a crazy bitch who has found someone who invokes him to yell "SHUT UP" to without a moment's thought for his own elegance of image. Yajirobe treats Korin with the irreverence of a mortal and it has nothing to do with a disrespect for Korin and everything to do with a respect that Yajirobe has for himself. They don't hate each other but they have disliked everything about the other's unchanging nature since day one. They feel the comfort of friendship when around each other and Yajirobe is eternally motivated to climb that tower (or use a hovercar if it can reach that altitude). Honestly Yajirobe probably just stays there becasue it's a hassle to have to climb up it again every time and he knows that that's where he'll end up anyway. Korin is a cat and he likes to be licked. End post

STAY GORGEOUS !!

[devilbrakers]

WIP Thursday!

was tagged by @lucien-lachance and @moonmothers to post a wip of mine and i finally have something to share jfkdslfjkdl. dmitri reawakens wip. kind of a warning for descriptions of someone dying but nothing terribly graphic, i don't think.

tagging: @numbaoneflaya @time-is-a-lake @shadowshearts @nuclearstorms @celticwoman @morvaris @mrs-theirin @druidgroves @saratrantoul @cwahsont @katsigian @swanfey and anyone else who'd like to join!

It’s cold – impossibly cold. The chamber is dark, the only thing he can make out is the crumbling brick only a couple feet from his face. The platform is harsh under his bare skin, grittier and rougher than he remembers. He shifts slightly, expecting the typical discomfort one has when moving their joints for the first time in a while but it doesn’t come. His movements are fluid and quick, much quicker than he’s used to. He almost flings himself off the platform when he rolls over. He catches himself, a hand flying out on its own volition and his palm cracks the brick of the altar he lays on. He swallows thickly, staring at the sight for a moment before he looks up. Better not to dwell on that, he thinks.

It’s too quiet for his liking. Nina should already be yelling at him, degrading him for ruining her ritual and denying her the ‘power of a god’, as she called it just hours ago. He should be dead, really, granted freedom away from this wretched place. He wanted to die but it seems the creators will not be granting that kindness today. He sits up, brushing his hands off on his pants and watching as the dust scatters. He looks up again, searching the nearby area for any sign of his sister but finds nothing besides a trail of blood smeared up the stairs and towards the path leading to their estate. Well, that can’t be anything pleasant. He slides off the altar, unbothered by the jagged pebbles digging into his bare feet as he slowly walks towards the blood. The scent of iron fills his nostrils more and more the closer he gets to it and a sense of dread settles itself deep within his chest. Surely, it’s not Nina’s blood? It seems unlikely in his mind and yet they were the only two people here so there aren’t many other logical options.

A quiet squelching sound comes as he steps in the liquid, cold and sticky underneath his feet. He shudders and side-steps away from it, walking up the stairs and following the path to the estate. The smell is overwhelming now and he has to resist the urge to gag as he plugs his nose. But he can taste it when he breathes through his mouth. He takes in a shaky breath and decides to hold it for now. His shoulders relax somewhat at the relief it provides. He continues on the path until he reaches the end, stopping under next to the sign that holds their family name.

The sight before him should bother him more than it does, it really should. And yet…

There she lays on her side while she reaches for the stairs leading up to the front door of their home. Blood pools next to her, coming out of every crevice in her head. She’s stopped moving but somehow, Dmitri can hear the quiet, shallow breathing that struggles to come out of her mouth. If she hears him approach, she either doesn’t care or no longer has the strength to move her head. He crouches down beside her, looking down at her face as blood drips out of her mouth. She glances at him and tries to say something but all that comes out is a shaky breath along with a soft rattling sound. He almost laughs at her, he wants to laugh at her but he can’t bring himself to. He says nothing as he stares at her, his expression blank. She was always pale but she’s nearly translucent now. If she were more lucid, she’d surely be throwing a fit over the blood on her skin and all over her clothing. She almost looks… guilty as her dual-colored eyes stare up at him or perhaps he’s simply deluding himself. It’s just distress from not being able to meet her goal, confusion as to why it’s her dying on the cold ground and not him. But he has little time to dwell on it because only a moment later, those eyes go blank as she lets out a final breath. Her body goes slack and he’s left by himself in the dark.

[neptoons1998]

Swimming Lessons

Part 1/3

A/N: Soo I did it thanks to @mal-urameshi for the idea.

Summary; Okoye puts Riri in swimming lessons. Okoye meets er daughter's swimming coach Attuma. Okoye isn't going to do anything except look at him that's all.

Tag gang: @mal-urameshi @pantherheart @somethingcleaverandwhitty

Okoye would say she is a pretty okay mom. The greatest but enough that her daughter wouldn't die by her negligence. And like any helicopter parent Okoye put her three-year-old in swimming lessons. As much as she loved her daughter, Riri was a menace in a loving way. Riri couldn't sit still when she gets her hair done or sitting her car seat. So what does any parent do when they have an active child putting in classes.

Okoye had her daughter in ballet, karate, and piano lessons. The young mother was doing everything to keep miss.busybody from being too busy in her room. Plus on some mommy blog it said it was important for Riri’s age group to socialize with their peers. And her daughter was a genius but she just read the room incorrectly sometimes.

“Oh Riri,” Aneka greeted as she wrapped her arms around the young girl. Aneka took her job as the fun auntie very seriously always trying out for her niece.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you,” Aneka commented as she glared at her sister,” It’s almost like someone is keeping you away from me.”

"She needs to run this energy," Okoye reasoned to Aneka as she rolled her eyes. Her sister squahed down to Riri's height as she gave her a piece of candy.

"Thank you, Auntie!" Riri shouted as she hug her aunt. Okoye rolled her eyes, "That's why she is in so many classes."

Aneka scoffed at the insult, "Hey she's needs some fun in her life. And it's not like you and Ayo are going to do it?"

"She's needs structure-“ Okoye started.

"in her life. This is the foundation she needs and going to rely on when she gets older, I know I know," Aneka finished her sister's statement.

"It's good to know you listen to me every once and while," Okoye responded. Aneka waved her hand not taking what her sister was saying to her seriously, "So what's the next class that my Riri have to go to now? How to detonate a bomb?"

Okoye rolled her eyes before she can tell her sister about her daughter's next class. Riri jumped up and down, "I'm going to learn how to swim!"

Aneka's lighten up around her niece, "Really? That sounds like fun."

Riri nodded, "Yeah and I'm learning how to swim like swordfish because they swim really fast."

"Really where did you learn about that?" Aneka asked Riri puffed her chest loving the special attention that her aunt was giving her, "Mama and me went to the library today."

"Can you show me the book you got from the library?" Aneka asked Okoye inwardly groaning knowing her sister was going to give her unneeded advice from the peanut gallery. Aneka stood back up to her normal height, "I'm just saying I find it funny how you're the only one entertaining and taking care of her while you know who isn’t doing his share of the work.”

Okoye could only pressed her lips together as she waited for her sister to finish with rant with her good for nothing ex-husband. From Okoye’s view they went into marriage too fast and were pressured by their parents and traditions that their relationship just frizzed out.

“I mean the only good thing that happened from that relationship was having Riri,” Aneka commented as she was finally getting to the end of her rant. Okoye just nodded along letting her sister finish her ranting about her ex-husband. Okoye's eyes followed her daughter's movements between her bouncing on her toes while reading.

"Thanks for your unneeded advice," Okoye said as she moved closer to take her daughter's hand quickly leaving her sister's apartment.

"Are you ready for your swimming lesson?" Okoye asked her pebble as she buckled her in. Riri nodded, "Yeah, I can't wait to tell VIv and Miles about it."

Okoye went to the driver's seat. She looked through the reflection mirror at Riri, "Let's go, swordfish."

[artificer-doesnt-belong-here]

my god! where is Artificer!?

-> blog created October 5th 2023

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requests are currently OPEN!

askbox should be there

——————————————

-> send me requests to send her absolutely anywhere that isn’t rain world related! since this blog is about putting her in places she 100% does not belong in which could either be a real life area or fandom related

-> sending general asks are fine! such as talking to me directly since I wouldn’t force you to only send me requests

-> fandom places and irl places just like I mentioned above are 100% alright unless I feel uneasy about where you want me to put her or it’s somewhere I’m unable to find. please be specific when requesting, especially real life areas I may not know about or able to find so easily

-> same place can be requested multiple times !! I honestly don’t care

-> I ask that am not requested to put her in any liminal spaces [esp the backrooms] since it makes me uncomfortable. horror however is fine

——————————————

mod information!

-> blog is ran by @paintedcomputer, which is my main blog!

-> pfp is by me

-> I go by he/him

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partner blogs! such as other blogs related to this one

-> @pebble-plush-in-places [I also run this!]

-> @where-did-gourmand-go

-> @saint-get-outta-there

-> @why-is-inv-here

-> @why-is-spears-here

-> @monk-shouldnt-be-here

-> @nightcat-plush-why-you-overthere

-> @rivulet-shouldnt-be-here

-> @huntershouldntbethere

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tags

#artificer doesn’t belong here -> main tag

#artificer nowhere -> normal posts

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-> hey! can I make a blog just like this one

of course!!! go ahead, I don’t recall myself how many exist since most likely were deleted that I knew a year ago but yeah have fun! feel free to tag me in it for being another blog or just let me know and I’ll check you out!

————

-> any discord such as a server?

at the moment, nope! we never got around to making a discord server for all the mods running the blogs or a server in general for people to come into for us to hang out because of scug in places

I would be down to have one if one wants to be created however! I would probably be fine making it too and have the owners of the scug blogs be staff

————

-> any limits on asks or fandoms?

honestly I don’t really care, request whatever you want and I’ll delete anything that makes me uncomfortable

[nattyontherun]

Ten First Lines Game

Stole this from my wife, @sugarbunbie mwa mwa ilu

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you can!

Note: I have alotta drabbles, and for the sake of not clogging up my top ten with them,,,, I removed them lmao. Here we areeeeeee~

 Lan Wangji finds him beneath the sunshade of a gnarled tree throwing pebbles into the river, quiet. splinter, quietly; MDZS, WangXian, WIP

If he clasped his hands together, his fingers overlapping, the tender flesh between each joint clasped to bruising—skin against skin, the bones beneath grating—would he recreate this vacuum-dark? longing (an ode to the one who raised me); MDZS, gen

There is a wisp haunting the halls of Lotus Pier: a red blot of pulsating energy, a specter. the bright side of dying young; MDZS, gen, WIP

Wei Wuxian dreams of a hole in the earth; of a place where the forest descends into grasslands and a gorge where land gives way to jutting stones, trickling-stream waterfalls, and pitch darkness where once a river wound. nightdweller; MDZS, WangXian, Dead Dove Don’t Eat

Jiang Yanli wakes to muted evening sunlight and fingers running through her hair. quail; MDZS, gen

Kakashi finds Sasuke in Wave. carefully, carefully; Naruto, KakaSasu, WIP

Sasuke wakes in flashes, like peeking through a veil of churning water. as you breathe; Naruto, gen

Morning; the rich scent of petrichor, and dewy leaves; of sizzling eggs--tamagoyaki, perhaps, hopefully--coffee, and warm rice. the flower that sleeps in his mouth; Naruto, KakaSasu

Jiang Wanyin has never been religious. why we never whisper to the wild winds (i’m okay, jiang cheng); MDZS, gen

Wei Wuxian does not die when his body hits the ground. desolate; MDZS, gen. Dead Dove Don’t Eat

i like dreamscapes. and run on sentences. and setting the mood. tho this is some impressively varied first sentencing for myself, i’m so very proud because i know 2021 would have had a MUCH different outcome hehehehe

xoxoxo lemme tag some fwens @emberswrites, @eldritch-bisexual, @tinywriterfairy, @thecrowtit

[space-blue]

36, 17, 15, 37 and 8 for the 40 questions ask meme please!!

8- Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh no, this is SO hard. I pride myself on my dialogue, and 'dialogue heavy' is one of the more common tag on all my works. Some of my favs have been emotional, heavy moments between characters, but I also write real stupid banter which I enjoy a lot, especially when it lands for readers. It's very hard to share a good dialogue snippet without the context that makes it funny or emotional though.

I also published 157 works, so there's choice galore! Here, have a bit from an Elden Ring fanfic, in which you, the reader, are the mate of one of the bosses, and the player character (the Tarnished) is a non-gendered character coming in and out of your life (as they do in the game), helping restore your hubby's memories and health by giving him death root. Just having fun with the way games send you on perpetual quests.

————

'I have seen you bring deathroot tirelessly,' you say, 'and wanted to thank you myself. It can't have been easy.'

'What ails him?' they asks, changing tack.

'An old grief,' you answer, the half-lie coming easily. 'Turned to madness.'

The Tarnished cocks their head sideways, a little like a curious wolf. 'I couldn't help but notice that the deathroot seemed to help? Like he's regaining memories… What affinity does Gurranq have with death?'

'You're a curious one, Tarnished.'

They look down and kick a pebble, swaying on the balls of their feet, now more like a child than a wolf.

'It's rare…' they say. 'For anyone to talk to me, or talk intelligibly. I miss it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.'

'That's alright,' you say with a smile. 'No harm done, and I understand you. I miss many things. I think if I saw a honey roll right now, I might cry.'

'Do you want me… to get you some?' the Tarnished asks, uncertain.

You laugh hard enough to nearly fall off your perch.

The Tarnished crosses their arms, defensive. 'What?' they ask. 'I've been sent on stranger quests.'

'I don't doubt it! Strange quests for strange times… But no. I would have no reward for your work, Tarnished, and Gurranq and I are not to linger here, so don't worry yourself.'

————

15- If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

In Odd Company, my personal take for the Book of Boba Fett series, before it aired. Not like it's a high bar to clear, but I'm convinced my version is far superior, and it'd be the pilot episode. It was done for the BoBF Big Bang and has bonkers good art by Roventum.

17 was answered here!

36- Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3. I don't post anywhere else.

37- Talk about your current wips.

That is… a lot. There are a lot. I have so many unfinished works, I'm just the most blessed writer as I've received a stunningly tiny amount of "Update WHEN???" messages. For Avatar alone I have

Two chapters in the works for the Five is an awful number fic (which was always intended to be a one shot, I hate you all) Next (and final???) chapter of the Trail of Crumbs Quaritch fic A fic focusing on Quaritch and Spider as Spider adds a bead to his songcord for meeting him The Ronal and neytiri have a chat chapter of the Ronal fic Kiri x Rotxo date followed by the arrival of Spider…

In Arcane I need to finish Fathers and Daughters, and all the rest is suspended till the blue people mental illness subsides.

For Star Wars I am sitting on a finished chapter for the double time travel fic but I got concrit on it that demands a complete rewrite. Tarkin and Soka sitting where they always do, overshadowed by Pandora and its delights… I also have a bunch of unfinished Andor bits, which I might honestly yeet into a blog post instead of leave to rot on my laptop.

I'm not even going to list things in SW… I have WIP disease and I kind of hate it for myself.

40- Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

I wouldn't know how. I've never felt the need to write alternate endings. I also almost never know "where the characters go" after I finish a story. If the ending is open and vague, it's on purpose. I'm not withholding anything.

There isn't a single fic I'd look back on now and want to change the ending. My endings are rare but I'm happy with all of them.

Sorry x'D

Thanks a lot for the asks! <3

[transhawks]

hello! how about ❌⏳🎯👀🤲🤭 for the ask game?

❌What's a trope you will never write?

I had to scratch my head for this. I think, perhaps, fake-dating trope? I don't mind reading it but it doesn't sound particularly fun to write.

⏳How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Oh, boy. So, uhh, I have very severe ADHD and despite being on medications for it, the thing is with writing it's always been a struggle. I kind of have to wait for like...waves of inspiration and motivation to hit to follow through or else I'm just writing a paragraph or two or barely doing anything with Sprinto (which does help motivate me). So if I'm really on it, I know I can do up to 3.5k words a day. If I'm not, it can take months, ha. It's why my updates are so sporadic because I really need the right headspace.

🎯Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Not in this fandom, but man, my naruto fanfics had a lot of this. I miss writing for that fandom. I do think that the next chapter of Midnights will have a lot of predictions, ha, and I really hope a few people guess what Hawks is going to do. Maybe I'll ask people to in the last Author's Note

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I bullied myself into liking afohawks so I'm writing a Younger!Hawks infiltrates a Villain-Factory Lab and stumbles into All For One fic. I kind of want to write them circling each other like predators fic because I feel like All For One would get what Keigo's doing in canon right now in a different environment and if he wasn't panicking over Tomura's body. Also, it's really so I can make jokes about canon in that verse.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

“You’re awake. Good.” A deep baritone speaks, making the hair on Hawks’s arms raise up and goosebumps pebble all over his skin. An unknown feeling of dread washes over him, his instincts telling him that whoever is speaking is dangerous. “Who are you?” A chuckle, deep and rumbling like an avalanche meets his ears. “Now, now, I’ve been led to believe you’re intelligent. You don’t need to ask me that, do you?”   His heart squeezes in fear and recognition. A boogie man - and an urban legend. The file he’d read on him from the HPSC classified archives was full of so many redactions and edits, as if the people compiling it didn’t know what is true or not. A specter that has haunted Japan for generations, always there in the shadows, greedy fingers in every pie and shadow behind every cataclysmic event. More myth than man.  What had the president said? (If there’s evil in this world, he might be the source) “All For One.” Hawks gasps out. “You’re All For One.”

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

Let's check!

LMAO, wasn't expecting this but now I'm cackling!!!!!

Thank you for the questions and waiting for me to answer them!

[dragonpropaganda]

(tags from @xenomorphicdna )

god there is so fucking much to say

The fandom name for the main civilisation being "the ancients" coming from five pebbles' speech makes talking about the depths pretty hard. pebbs isn't really using ancients as a name but just generally referring to ancient peoples which makes it kind of unfortunate that it's settled as the fandom name for those who built him! (an alternative name that's picked up some traction is the "benefactors, which sounds cooler imo, and James primate himself calls them precursors or forerunners)

This turn of fandom conception kind of hides what little we do know of the depths, which is mostly from the ramblings of some cave ghost. (Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets is the best echo, I will fight over this)

In their monologue, Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets (hereafter referred to as TSTB I'm not phonetyping that out every time) talks about the ruins throughout subterranean, the "bones of forgoitten civilisations, heaped like so many sticks"

Already, this pretty much establishes the depths as something very different from TSTB's own culture. effectively, they are the most forgotten civilisation, the remains at the bottom of the pile. The depths even have a very distinct architectural style, as well as different symbols (only sharing the crossed circle, which is in the shape of the wheel flower)

So who then, built these ruins? There isn't really a direct answer to this. The people who built the depths were... the people who built the depths,a total unknown. But what this demonstrates is the sheer scale of the cycle. throughout the game it's always been clear that you've been rummaging through the ruins of a fallen civilisation, but what this arguably shows is that there were already ruins by that civilisation's inception. This "depths civilisation" shows a stratum beyond their memory. This calls to mind the scavengers, who demonstrate the formation of a new society in the ruins of the old. (though they don't demonstrate many permanent structures, scavenger society is fuckin complex, don't underestimate these small, semi-nomadic raccoon monkey people)

In a game about cycles, it's a very reasonable assumption that those who came before would have been in a very similar position at their start. The unknown depths civilisation stratum in the layering of ruins only seems to corroborate this.

Due to my own involvement in downpour, I'm pretty reluctant to talk about downpour stuff lore conversation, but not addressing it here would be amiss so here's a disclaimer: I don't want anyone to think of the things I say as like, immoveable word of god in regards to the downpour canon (something that has unfortunately happened before, I'm just the challenge mode person, not an authority on everything!!! (though I am an authority on challenge mode, everything about challenge 70 is very uncanon lol) ), so please treat the following paragraphs as just another voice like you would from any other fan.

TSTB doubles down on this concept in their saint campaign monologue. As the old world fades into the new, they ask (rhetorically of course, the saint doesn't know shit) how many civilisations came before them, then left the world behind.

(cheery as ever, buddy)

This directly highlights the cyclical nature of the whole process. A civilisation rises, before eventually leaving the world behind in favour of transcendence, which TSTB is unusually cynical about! this isn't necessarily a sign that ascension is a bad thing, considering their scrapped beta monologue, which has nothing to do with the whole topic and instead just talks about eating, TSTB is just kinda Like That about things.

This does raise questions about why there are a few depths civilisation inspired designs in the iterator cities (metropolis and bitter aerie.) This answer is more based in like, developer intent than direct text analysis so you can reject it on that basis alone if you want:

The use of depths style architecture in metropolis and bitter aerie is effectively like how modern empires have used neoclassical architecture. It's use of inspirations from antiquity to gain glory by linking themselves with the ancient past. (and a past they can't claim at that!) Think of it as like how government buildings in modern empires such as the USA make government buildings to look Roman. that's pretty much what's going on with the twelfth council pillar

you should talk about your thoughts on rw fanon (looking with huge eyes)

Oh god, there's a lot of major misconceptions have concreted into fanon, mostly around ancient society and ascension.

First things first! Ascension is not death! They are entirely separate things treated entirely separately by the text of the game. I can see where the interpretation is coming from, but it doesn't really align with how the text treats either subject. Five Pebbles may want to remove the self destruction taboo, but from his reaction to the rot it's clear that he doesn't want to die. Conflation of ascension and death only comes up as an offhand possibility that pebbs makes on iterator 4chan, when he's going into the possibilities of scenarios that even the other sliverists are doubtful of! (let me make clear that I am not a sliverist by any means)

Ascension is more of talked about as a form of transcendence, yeah? A Bell, Eighteen Amber Beads talks about their sitution as being "To have grasped at the boundless infinites of the cosmic void…", not as them seeking an end to life.

The beta dialogue goes into more detail, mentioning the "infinities of time and space" and the "boundless fractal planes of spirit and reality...", though this dialogue was cut and it's hard to tell how much it reflects the concept as in the released game.

As for the cultural misconceptions... there's A Lot to talk about, but the first that comes to mind is the common conflation of the five natural urges and the christian concept of sin.

It is true that the negation of urges is mentioned by moon as an alternative method of ascension, but much of what we know about the culture of the people who the fandom calls the ancients (which makes discussion of the depths a mess but that's something for another post entirely) points towards the urges not being seen as shameful.

Even the first urge does not seem to be particularly scorned! Being a warrior is presented as a cause for bragging in the Shaded Citadel pearl, being comparable with being an artist and a fashion legend. The second urge, also does not seem to be suppressed. Multiple sources attribute some level of honour to parenthood! The aforementioned pearl also mentions Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel as being a "Mother, Father and Spouse" without any hint of shamefulness. Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections expresses pride about having progeny, mentioning it alongside their owned land and esteem among their peers.

After some peer review, an esteemed friend has told me to add a section on purposed organisms as well! This is not so much my area, so I might be a bit off on some things.

As moon says, the majority of purposed organisms were tubes in boxes, and that the primal fauna of the world are almost entirely extinct. A lot of the fandom seems to ignore the first part, and i can't say I blame them, but the evolution of the creatures is so much weirder than people think.

Concept art for the creatures has this interesting quality to it, where the organic parts of the creatures have an almost... melty quality to them.

In the concept art, the flesh appears as if it's almost defying the machinery to form an animal shape. It's as if it's conquering its own artificiality the way the foliage grows over the (stone, brick and concrete, not mostly metal as some think!) ruins.

Of course, it's hard to really tell how much of this reflects the finalised concept, most of the integration is much smoother in the game, in line with a seamless kind of biomechanical design. There was always an intention of biomechanical strangeness, as shown in this screenshot of the devlog before the term "slugcat" even existed!

That said, the melty nature of the concept art shows a level of wild change inherent the biomechanical nature of the creatures, as if they truly are the result of these "tubes in boxes" almost revolting against their own boxes.

and considering centipedes... some tubes may not have had boxes in the first place!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Autistic Penny hcs+ (maybe )autistic Ocean

combining all these asks, but of course!!

(i have ADHD, but A Bunch of my friends who have autism have said that i give off the same vibes, so i’m gonna talk to my pediatrician about That when i see in October)

(i decided to color code the names of the kids for this one because, coincidentally, it may be a little hard to follow cause the headcanons are All Over The Place)

Ricky and Penny have autism, and Ocean has both autism and ADHD because, come on, her having ADHD is SO OBVIOUS

Ricky was the first one to point out that maybe, just maybe, Penny and Ocean aren’t neurotypical

Penny eventually gets diagnosed once her parents go to jail, and she gets her social worker

Ocean is undiagnosed

Penny has God Awful auditory processing issues

Noel: Hey, do you know what time it is?

Penny: Huh?

Noel: I said do you kn—

Penny: OH IT’S TWELVE-THIRTY

Ocean will make food and then won’t eat it because she isn’t hungry anymore

Penny will sometimes look at people’s mouths when they speak because it’s easier for her to follow along

Penny and Ocean both NEED subtitles when watching shows

Misophonia? Misophonia

Forks scraping against a plate will make Penny full-body cringe

If someone smacks while eating, Ocean will have a viscerally angry reaction

Also misokinesia with Ocean!!

If someone is bouncing their leg in her peripheral, she gets So Mad for Literally No Reason

If she bounces her leg, though, it’s fine, but it’s a personal offense when anyone else does it

Also pen clicking!! Only SHE can click her pen. Nobody else. It’s illegal.

Textures? Textures

Ricky’s favorite textures: Fur; aloe vera; pebbles! like the small, smooth ones!; butter; leather; rags when they’re wet

Ricky’s least favorite textures: Grits; fish (it’s too chewy); school paper towels (they’re so scratchy for NO REASON); when you’re drawing with chalk and your nails scrape the sidewalk or asphalt; dry sponges

Ocean’s favorite textures: BEAUTY BLENDERS!!!! (she’s CONSTANTLY stealing Constance’s just to squeeze them like a stress ball); fur; pebbles (same as Ricky); cotton balls; silk; soft ice

Ocean’s least favorite textures: NAIL FILES (she can’t STAND nail files, they make her SQUIRM); wet paper (it makes her want to GAG); bouncing off of that, paper straws (she wants to like them SO BAD because they’re better for the environment, but she just CAN’T); wet bread; mascara (makes her face feel sticky and itchy); bananas (bad feeling in her mouth); that gross slimy sensation of oil on your hands after you try (and fail) to wash it off with water; lotion (similar to the oil, it just makes her feel uncomfortably slimy)

Penny’s favorite textures: Velvet; anything soft and fluffy; makeup brushes (even without makeup; she likes to just brush them against her face); styrofoam; that green plant foam stuff; silk; mini M&Ms

Penny’s least favorite textures: Wet paper (she seconds Ocean’s hatred, that stuff is straight from HELL); jeans (scratchy, tight, and uncomfortable); anything denim, really; rubber gloves; clothes tags

When Penny feels a nice texture, she’s gotta touch it as many times as possible

If she can, she likes to rub stuff on her face because, GOD, there’s nothing quite like feeling a good texture on your face

Ocean and Penny are SO PICKY with their food, mainly due to texture, but also taste

Ocean doesn’t eat meat, but Penny does, and if the meat makes that gross crunch-squish when she bites into it, she’s spitting it out without hesitation. She doesn’t care who sees her, she Needs It Out Of Her Mouth

Kinda similar to textures, these three will discuss wanting to eat things that are most definitely NOT edible, and the other three in the choir are just like “WHAT”

Ricky, signing: consider: fiber glass

Ocean, nodding: that’s a good one, that’s a good one. like, why would they make it look like that, and then have it be filled with millions of tiny glass shards??

Ricky, signing: RIGHT??

Ocean: what about drywall? i feel like drywall would be so good.

Ricky, signing: yes!!

Penny: i wanna eat polly pocket clothes so bad

Constance: what the FUCK are you guys TALKING ABOUT

They all mutually agree that they would eat lava if they were physically able to

Ocean’s special interest has been The Crucible/Salem Witch Trials for about four years (she’s me fr)

Echolalia with Penny!

She’ll hear someone say something, and she’ll repeat it for the rest of the day

She once would Not stop saying “beet roots” underneath her breath because Mischa said it one (1) time

In similar vein, she and Ocean will both mirror the people around them, but especially the other kids in the choir

Like, Mischa will have his hands on his hips, Ocean will see him standing like that, and she’ll unconsciously do it, too. And then Penny will see them both doing that, and she’ll copy them. So then three out of six of the choir kids are all standing like a mom who just found out their toddler colored on the walls with a marker

Unfortunately, some people sometimes take this as them mocking them

Which isn’t the case!! They aren’t trying to mock anyone by mimicking them!! It’s just this sort of instinct they have!!

Ocean is the understimulated to Penny’s overstimulated

One of the reasons why Ocean is always doing stuff is because she’s so desperate to FEEL, to be ENGAGED because she starts to feel horribly worthless when she isn’t doing anything. She gets restless and NEEDS to be doing something. Nothingness overwhelms her.

And then Penny just needs everything to STOP. Everything is going too fast, and there’s so much happening, and she can’t keep up, and her brain isn’t processing ANYTHING. She needs just one second to breathe.

Meanwhile, Ricky, a worried, properly medicated neurodivergent, is like “are you two OKAY”

Ricky has the BEST stim toys, fight me

You know those stim toy boxes? His parents get him those!

He once let Penny play with one of his fidget cubes before

He never got that fidget cube back

Speaking of stim toys!

Stimming!!!

Ricky:

Shaking his head out to do a “reset”

Biting his lips

Big blinks

Clicking his tongue

Running his tongue over his teeth

Tangling and untangling his headphones

Penny:

HAND FLUTTERS!!!

CHEWING!!

She looks like she would chew on CapriSun straws (which are the BEST to chew on, fight me)

Rocking from side-to-side

Clicking her fingernails together like she’s a baby pangolin

Lightly tugging on her earlobes

Trilling/chirping/squeaking!! I can just TELL this girl would have vocal stims like that!

Bumping someone with her head

Rubbing her thighs

OR: rubbing the surface of smooth things like desks or tables

STRETCHINGGGGGGG

Kneading things with her hands and feet

Ocean:

Idk if this is a common stim, but I do this All The Time, so: she LOVES to fold small pieces of paper. Sticky note? Folded. Receipt? Folded. A hall slip for school? Folded. She’ll fold them until the paper starts to, like, disintegrate into little flakes, and she has to get something new because it isn’t satisfying or fun when it’s deteriorating all over her hands.

Also if a bottle—or anything for that matter—has a label, it’s probably gonna get peeled off and then folded by her

Touching her neck/chest, especially when she’s focused or reading something (another thing i’ve started doing recently; idk why)

Just like Penny, she’ll click her fingernails together like she’s a baby pangolin

Pacing

Twitching her nose like a rabbit

Drumming her finger midair to the beat of a song

Walking in time with music

Ocean talks a lot, we all know this, but one of the reasons she talks so much is because she’s constantly branching off into different topics in the middle of a story. She can’t stay focused on one singular topic. It’s like she’s going on a side quest. And then another side quest. And then another side quest. And then another side quest.

She also talks Super Fast sometimes and is constantly being asked to slow down

Similarly, Ricky tends to sign Very Fast, especially when he’s engaged with what the topic of conversation is

Unfortunately, however, sometimes it’s a little hard to understand him. I took ASL for four years, so I can tell y’all that keeping up with signs is WAY HARDER than keeping up with speech.

And it’s just so frustrating for Ricky because he needs to slow down, but he has all this ENERGY and EXCITEMENT that makes it really difficult for him to sign slower

Keeping with the topic of speech habits, Ocean tends to interrupt people without really meaning to. She just gets this URGE to speak, and she can’t stop herself before the words start coming out

On the other hand, Penny is the type of person to zone out in conversations and then ask for someone to repeat themselves

Ocean has very, VERY poor impulse control. She doesn’t think before she speaks a lot of the time and will just Say Stuff that may come off Really Bad. And usually she doesn’t mean to be rude or inappropriate, she’s just Saying Stuff, and then she’ll get mad when people are angry at her with just making a comment. She just has No Filter.

Penny will forget stuff after 0.2 seconds of thinking about it

Or if you give her, say, a task with five-step instructions, she’ll have forgotten at least three of the steps by the time you’re no longer talking. So it is VITAL that she has written instructions. It’s easier to follow and remember stuff when it’s written down for her to see. If it’s not written, she WILL probably forget.

Ocean gets extremely frustrated when she can’t do something the way she wants to do it

Penny is the “can’t read that block of text, it’s too long” to Ocean’s “MUST READ IT ALL” and then Ricky’s “i’m trying to read it, but i keep going over the same line over and over again”

Ocean will forget to eat and drink for several hours, usually because she’s too focused on something, and if she breaks that focus, she Will Not be able to get it back

Penny and Ricky will both just. stare at a wall. for no reason.

Ricky is really *lets his device run out of power even though the charger is literally right there in front of him*

Stemming from her ADHD, Ocean has RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria)!

[vodens]

i was going to just ramble in the tags… but i feel i have Too Much To Say about rain world’s story. this is long, and probably not structured very well. sorry.

i HUGELY agree. personally, rain world is a game that truly changed the way i look at the world, but i don’t think i’d be able to say that if i’d watched some lore video beforehand, or let my roommate explain to me any more than “you’re a small animal looking for your family, and these huge sentient computers are the cause of deadly rain you need to avoid.”

my first playthrough of the game will always be my favorite. survivor will always be my favorite slugcat. why? because it perfectly encapsulated the feeling of being small and alone. i was really engrossed in the idea of being a tiny animal, somewhere in the middle of the food chain. i knew just enough about the lore that, when iggy started pointing me towards moon, i knew she was something i was very interested in finding.

i played this game very slowly, really soaking up the world. i went out of my way to grab every single token, including ones i wasn’t really supposed to get as survivor (waited for the rain to lift me up to one i think only saint/riv/arti is supposed to get, and dragged a squig to shoreline for another. she was still there by the time i finished the game. poor squig). my roommate had told me about the pink pearl in outskirts, and i took that as a challenge. i figured out how to get it with a bit of hinting from them. i carried it with me until i brought a neuron back to moon, because a) i was that invested in finding out more of this world, and b) didn’t know i could leave it in a shelter. it was a struggle, but it was worth it. the pink pearl isn’t even that interesting, yet i was driven to find them all.

and i did.

my first playthrough of the game clocked in at a little over 75 hours, and 400 cycles, with over 100,000 score, because i collected every single pearl. it was worth it. it was all worth it. especially since my roommate suggested i leave the sky islands pearls for last. no other game has left me pondering, and thinking, and rethinking the meaning of its story over, and over like rain world has. i have a lot of opinions about this game, and i feel like so many people just completely miss the point of it. the ancients, and the iterators are really unreliable narrators, and you aren’t supposed to take what they say literally.

nothing will recapture the feelings i had from reading “looks to the moon” and “five pebbles” for the first time in the bottom left-hand corner. nothing will recapture the feelings from giving moon new pearls for the first time. nothing will recapture the feeling of learning about ascension and the void for the first time, and having no concept of what that actually means. i was, for a short while, like the iterators. i knew that ascension existed, and i knew that it involved some fluid that dissolved everything it touched, but i had never seen the other side… until i did. it really does mark a point of no return once you dive into the depths. a rubicon, if you will 😏. you are granted the gift of knowing what lies beyond, even if the ending is abstract and hard to grasp, you know what they have been looking for, and there is no way they would have ever found the answer.

all this is to say, i think that the plot of rain world is actually not that important to the experience of the game at all. not in the same way that it is to other games. if anything, i think understanding perfectly what’s going on is detrimental to the experience (that’s why i felt the downpour campaigns fell a little flat to me. they are a bit too straightforward, and the slugcats a little too strong). you are just a little animal, who may or may not be a history buff, making your way through this cruel world, when suddenly god tells you something you can’t possibly comprehend the consequences of, nor are you sure you actually want, but who are you to disagree?

this game really means a ton to me, and honestly? might have been some kind of spiritual experience, in a way. though i really didn’t feel that until after saint, which is the closest downpour ever came to recapturing the magic.

but that’s a discussion for another day.

On Rain World lore and it's implementation within the game.

This is kindof a random ramble I went on in a Discord chat and just feel like sharing elsewhere. (also note this is all primarily in reference to the original game, Survivor's story.)

I honestly think too many miss the forest for the trees a bit with RW, in terms of how important the lore is, if that makes sense. I talked with somebody about first-time experiences with the game and they said they'd watched a number of lore explanation videos on YT before starting, because of some reason along the lines of "I didn't trust the game to deliver its own story properly." To me this is almost saddening to hear because I really feel that misses the point of why the game has it's lore to begin with.

To me, while playing, any tidbits i learned about history or other information contributed to a feeling like the world I was navigating had a very real history that saturated it, yet one that I would be unable to grasp fully. It is an illusory feeling of realness, given how it is experienced. The game is mechanically not designed to incentivize collecting many information pearls, especially when in the original game you can literally just drop them off a cliff and lose them forever. You get the feeling often like you are bound to never be able to get everything, nor would you even probably want to put in the effort, so the illusion actually stays stronger because of that. Your mind wanders speculating about every little detail, whether intention truly existed behind it or not, because it feels like it did. You learned that it might have. Maintaining that illusion while playing I think is the primary reason they were included, not actually the experience of "knowing" the history. Rain World in general seems to have a thematic fixation on the simple idea that individuals have limited perspectives. Joar Jakobsson has said that one of the core ideas behind Rain World was to recreate the life of a "rat in Manhattan." That is to say, a creature that understands how to find food, hide, and live in a complex man-made structure, that cannot understand it's structuring purpose or why it was built. The very core issue of the iterators, is that the solution to the "great problem" intrinsically has to lie with knowledge that could only be obtained from "the other side." They are corporeal beings trying to know something that pertains to something outside corporeal reality. Yet pursuit of knowledge is very important to creatures like ourselves. Collecting any individual pearl is mostly an exercise in doing a lot just for little bits of knowledge. There is a lot of understanding of just how significant wanting to know more is, even something unimportant, when you are left in the dark the way you are in the game. Most information pearls you deliver are literally completely useless to know about, but they feel personally important, especially in how finding them relates to your connection to the iterators. My primary motivation to find pearls in my first play was to spend more time with Moon. On a very real emotional level, Moon felt like my only friend in the world while I played. On a mechanical level, she does literally nothing. But Rain World manages to operate on a very emotional, even instinctual level with how it's designed. I wanted to be in her company and have something to give her. Because I am alone, and lost. So something along those lines is why I felt saddened to hear the sentiment like Rain World somehow "fails" to deliver it's "story." The purpose of the game is not to find pearls and hear about some grand narrative. At it's core, Rain World is a game that's design was inspired by nature, and it's use of history within the world relates to us as a player the way history relates to us as people. It is relayed through people reading from records created by parties with their own perspectives, and connects us abstractly to a sensation that there is more out there than our own lives. That is a feeling you have as a player, and ultimately the true story that Rain World tells is the memories you have playing it. What you did, saw, and felt. The same as how our story is that of our own lives. That is the purpose of the game.

[titan-fodder]

Find a Way Chapter 8

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Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: general awkwardness, kissin’, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering), overthinking, communication, interruptions, mentions of labor and delivery, a preemie baby, erwin and levi being erwin and levi, cuteness, use of ‘daddy’, general vulnerability

A/N: this takes place right after the dinner date! thank you all so much for being so patient. i hope it holds up. was so happy to get back to writing these two, so enjoy~

Your hands are shaking as you hold Remy's food bag, spilling little pebbles into his bowl as he waits impatiently beside you, whole body wagging in time with his little tail. Your brain is absolutely bursting with too much information, too many questions, too many things you aren't sure you wanted to know. 

 But, things you definitely needed to know. 

 A fiance. Alcoholism. That's… Substantial. That's something to consider. 

 “If you need some time—” Miche starts, but you immediately straighten up, spilling a bit of the kibble on the floor as you do and making him smile softly. 

 “No, it’s…” You take a breath. “It’s a lot, but it doesn’t mean I want you to, like, leave or anything.”

 Miche raises an eyebrow, slow to ask, “Is our date not coming to a close soon anyway?”

 “I mean, it can if you want it to,” you answer, bending over again to put the bag of food on the ground, carefully picking up the fallen pieces and dropping them in Remy’s bowl. 

 It dawns on you that Miche probably thinks you’re trying to get him to stay so that you can fuck—which wouldn’t be a complete lie—but it’s really just that you’re not ready to say goodbye yet. Even as muddled as your thoughts are, you still want to be around him. 

 “I don’t know how early you have to get up in the morning, but I could go for a couple episodes of something or a movie or… whatever…” You end on a thick swallow because Miche is frowning now, forehead wrinkled adorably. 

 “Are you sure you don’t need some space?” he tries again, and you nearly scoff. 

 “Miche, if you need space or just–I don’t know–don’t wanna look at my face anymore, just say so.” 

 And just like that, his expression goes soft again. He takes the few steps necessary to get to you then uses gentle fingertips to tilt your chin up. 

 “I always wanna look at your face.” 

 Your stomach does somersaults as you gaze into green eyes, and it’s quickly apparent that you are absolutely helpless in his hands. Any baggage is forgotten, replaced with broad shoulders and laugh lines and a deep tambor that gives you goosebumps. 

 “Yeah?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper. 

 Miche nods slowly as he glances at your mouth, and that’s all it takes for you to move. 

 Already on your tiptoes thanks to your heels, all you can do is crane your neck and reach to pull him closer. Fortunately, he gets the picture, the hand on your jaw sliding to the back of your neck as he meets you halfway. 

 It’s been a long time since kissing has felt this innocent—exploratory as you both feel the other out. One long press of his lips followed by a few shorter, chaste pecks until your body is flush with his and you feel the brush of his tongue. 

 Your heart is beating far too fast, body heating to record-breaking temperatures, and honestly, are you a horny little teenager all over again? Why has that knot of anticipation settled in your gut so quickly? Why are you fucking throbbing at the sensation of his tongue in your mouth? 

 Probably because you’ve wanted him from day one. 

 Still, your autonomic response is jarring and only intensified when Miche splays a hand over the small of your back, pressing you further against him before his fingers curl in the material of your dress. 

 You can feel your legs beginning to ache, calves twinging, and you don’t hesitate to pant a desperate, “Couch,” immediately being whisked away to the piece of furniture. 

 Sitting at an awkward side-by-side angle, both of you twist into each other. One of your hands remains on Miche’s chest while you use the other to take off your shoes, heavy heels clunking as they hit the ground. You’re breathing a little too heavily at this point, might even be trembling, and even though it feels like you might literally die if he keeps kissing you like he is, you want more. You wanna be closer. You want–

 When you raise to your knees, Miche breaks away and stares at you, having to tilt his head back for the first time as you hover a few inches above him. He reaches for your hips, eyes hooded but still very aware of your every movement as he guides you into his lap.

 You have to fight a whimper when he pulls your dress up enough to allow your legs to spread over his, fabric bunching at your hips, and fuck, you can feel him–the friction of his growing cock straining against his pants and pressing against your core. 

 Miche groans, a sound so deep it vibrates in your bones, then takes your face in his hands again. His kiss is hotter now, sucking on your lower lip before nipping at it, pushing his tongue between your teeth so that your nails bite into his shoulders and you arch your back–oh, fuck that feels good, rubbing yourself over him like that, Jesus Christ. You do it again, rocking gently in his lap, growing wetter by the second, and you want him. You want him so fucking badly.

 “Miche–I…”

 It washes over you once again: this is Miche. Miche. Who you’ve been steadily falling for, who has been better to you than any guy you’ve ever dated, who is so insanely out of your league, you don’t even understand what he’s doing with you, but you’ll take it. Fuck, you’ll take anything he gives you.

 “What?” he rumbles, trailing down to your neck and brushing his mouth over your pulse point. “What is it, baby?”

 God dammit, you like that. You like that too much, it makes you grind down on him again. 

 “I want you,” you breathe, and you can feel him smile into your skin.

 “What happened to that movie?”

 You laugh, a frankly pathetic but still clearly amused little song, then tell him, “If you’d prefer a movie, we can–we can do that, but…” You let your hand fall between your legs, lifting yourself just enough to palm his hardened cock through his pants before smirking at him. “I don’t think that’s really what you want.”

 Miche bucks, and you finally notice that his cheeks are a little rosier than usual, feel how warm his body has become.. He does want this too, right? He has to, not like he’s just humoring you or anything. He’s clearly affected, but… is this just another instance of you throwing yourself at him? Have you backed him into a corner again? Had he really been ready to leave before the two of you made it to the couch?

 The line of thought makes you straighten up and stop, leaving Miche to tilt his head and watch you.

 “”What? What did I do?” he asks, confused but still kind. 

 It makes you exhale a chuckle and shake your head. “Nothing. I’m just trying to… reel myself in, I guess.”

 Your hands are shaking, quickly enveloped by Miche’s, and you almost want to pull away so that he won’t see just how worked up you are, but it’s a little too late for that considering there’s already a wet spot in your skimpy underwear and, it’s not like he’s looking there or anything, but if he were to feel so inclined as to touch–

 “Why?” he interrupts your internal monologue again, and you blink at him. “What’s going on in your head? Talk to me.”

 You shrug, glancing away. “I’m just, like, trying to think if I’m missing some subtle cues or something. Like, if you’ve been trying to tell me you’re not ready for–” you clear your throat and motion to the lack of space between your bodies, “–if you don’t want… this? I’m not making sense.”

 It’s probably nothing. Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped in the first place. You’re just being self-conscious and reading too far into things.

 And, Miche more or less confirms this when he grins at you, his quintessential lopsided smile that sets you a little more at ease. 

 “I didn’t plan to fool around tonight,” he admits, brushing hair out of your face before lightly stroking the apple of your cheek. “Kind of wanted to butter you up a little more, actually treat you right so you don’t think I’m just trying to get in your pants…”

 Your mouth twists as you fight your own smile. “I’ve never once thought that, for the record,” you tell him. “But, you probably think I’m only interested in getting into yours since I keep doing shit like this.”

 “You’re not doing anything wrong,” Miche laughs. “I appreciate that you have the presence of mind to stop and think for a second, but–” He sits up a little straighter, lips just barely grazing yours as he assures you, “I want this too. Believe me.” A surprise roll of his hips for emphasis, and he adds one more, “Believe me.”

 You let out a sigh of relief, shutting your eyes only for them to fly open again when Miche lowers his voice and tells you, “One day I’m gonna make it impossible for you to think straight.” 

 He kisses the curve of your jaw, fingers sliding down your side until they creep between your legs. Despite him barely even touching you, you’re panting for him, can feel the heat from his hand more than anything, the weight of it so close to where you want it. 

 He runs a fingertip—feather light—over your covered folds, and you shudder on top of him, mouth falling open. 

 You expect him to tease you about how you’re already soaking through your panties, something about it not taking much or how you’re so desperate, but all Miche does is hum low in his throat and keep running his fingers over you. 

 A single tap to your clit makes you squeak, eyes rolling, and Miche sounds thoroughly satisfied when he questions, “Keep going?” 

 “Please, Miche, I need—” Something inside you. You’re clenching around nothing, and if you don’t get your pussy filled soon, you’re going to combust. 

 “Please, who?” he prompts softly.

 Your brain short-circuits for a moment, overstimulated and so stupid with desire that it doesn’t click, and when you lock eyes with him again you’re surprised to see how his pupils have grown, how his lower lip shines after he licks over it. 

 “Will you say it again?” he tries, then clarifies, “Call me what you did the other night. Call me—”

 You think your face may split with how widely you grin, entertained and painfully turned on by the fact that he wants to hear it from you, so you lean forward, rocking into his hand as you get a bit closer to his ear and moan a breathy, “Please, daddy.”

 His response is instantaneous, a hissed, “Fuck,” before he catches your lips in a brutal kiss. He pushes your panties to the side without issue, holding the material out of the way with one finger while sliding another between your folds. 

 You feel like you might start hyperventilating. Miche uses your leaking arousal as lubricant then starts pushing his middle finger inside you. You fucking sing for him, head thrown back, back bowing until you feel knuckles against your damp skin, and then you squeeze. 

 Just one of his fingers already has you seeing stars, so long and thick, rubbing against your gummy walls as he groans against your neck. He gives a couple thrusts before curling, the pad of his finger pressing into your g-spot, and of course he would know exactly how and where to press, of fucking course–

 “Ohmygod,” you huff, pelvis rolling, legs spreading further and sinking on either side of his when he slides another finger alongside the first. 

 His palm grinds over your clit, not too hard, not too soft, and you swear you can feel every little crease–life line and fate line and all that other psychic bullshit you could never be bothered with before but are suddenly very aware of because it’s Miche who’s touching you, who’s fucking into you with deft fingers, and fuck, fuck, you’ll be so pissed if you come like this instead of on his cock, but he is dangerously good at what he’s doing, so there is a very good chance of that happening.

 You feel the vibration of his phone before you hear it ring out, watch as Miche frowns before reaching down with his free hand to pull it from his pocket and silence it, thank god. He drops it on the cushion face down before setting his sights on your face again, and only then do you realize he never actually stopped moving his fingers even while distracted, still pumping in and out of you at a steady pace, massaging the sensitive spot that swells with every thrust.

 You’re ready now. You know you are, wet and stretched and begging to be filled with something bigger, and you can tell by the way he resituated himself under you that he’s ready for something more as well.

 Then his fucking phone rings again, and this time he actually swears and apologizes as he flips it over to look at the contact. 

 Ian Dietrich (Resident)

 “Are you…” You breathe in through your nose to steady yourself then finish asking, “Are you on call tonight?”

 Miche shakes his head. “I’m not, but I–shit–”

 “You can take it,” you tell him, words sounding a little too slurred for your liking as you reach down to take his wrist and make him stop what he’s doing. A damn shame considering how fucking good it felt, but you can see the dilemma in his eyes. “Take the call, Miche. I’m right here.”

 He exhales sharply then grabs the phone, answering with a simple, “Zacharias,” that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

 His fingers twitch where they’re still inside you, and you bite down hard on your lip as he drags them out of you, listening intently while pulling your underwear back in place, stroking over puffy folds before eventually raising his hand to his mouth to lick your slick from it. 

 You watch him, his professional intonations bouncing around in your head as you listen to every, “Mhm” and “Yes”, and trying not to be too disappointed when he closes with a sigh and, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Ian.”

 Sliding out of his lap, you resign yourself to a warm shower and your vibrator, which is fine. You aren’t upset. You’re just aching. 

 Miche turns to you, and you can tell he’s about to apologize again, but you wave it off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I admire the dedication.”

 His expression is full of remorse, so you lean forward and try to kiss it away, speaking into his lips, “Just tell me about the patient that pulled you away, yeah?”

 He nods, nose bumping yours, then deepens the kiss just enough for you to taste yourself on his tongue before breaking away and standing. 

 “I’ll text you,” he promises, still looking like he’s in genuine pain. “I promise.”

 “I know you will,” you grin. “Now go, it’s fine. I have a date with some silicone, if ya’ know what I mean.”

 Miche groans loudly as he walks to the door, grumbling, “You’re killin’ me, baby,” which only makes you giggle.

 He bends over to scratch Remy’s head then grabs his keys, opening the door and turning back to you as if to say something else, but when he finds you smirking, he just shakes his head and smiles, leaving a little too quickly.

 The door shuts behind him, and you sigh, falling back on the couch as you replay the evening. The food was great. The confessions were… troubling but manageable, you think. You probably should think on it a little more, but first…

 “Alright, Remy,” you say, gaining the little dog’s attention. “You hold down the fort while I shower and finish what Doctor Perfect started.” Remy only tilts his head in response, leaving you to walk into your bedroom and dig through your little toy box until you find what you’re looking for.

 You fantasize about Miche’s hands and how they felt on you, the way he’d pulled your dress up and gripped your hips. His tongue in your mouth, his fingers in your cunt–you can almost still feel them if you think hard enough, stretching your hole to get you ready for more.

 When you come, it’s with his name on your lips, and when you bathe, you imagine what it would be like to have him there with you, holding you from behind, both of you covered in suds. It’s a pretty picture–sexy but more than that, it’s intimate. And, you want that. You want that with him. 

 Yes, you want him to fuck your brains out, but more than that, you want to know what it’s like to lay with him in the afterglow of it all, when the sheets are on the ground and your legs are tangled together and all you can do is bask in each other’s presence.

 You know there’s a chance you’re just romanticizing it–romanticizing him–but it’s impossible not to. Miche is just… He’s so good. Way too good for you, and one day he’ll figure that out, but until then, you’ll keep gazing at him in awe and giggling too much at his jokes and clinging to him in every way you can. Until then, you’ll just keep falling for him. 

~

Miche told Ian and the other residents that they could and should call him should anything happen with Mrs. Cooper. He knows he did, remembers how stern he was during the conversation because he had seen this woman through her entire pregnancy, and he’d be damned if she gave birth without him at the hospital. 

“Even if I’m not the doctor on-call, you call me if she has any complications or if she goes into labor, got it?” The younger doctors had nodded, and he’d walked away feeling satisfied. 

Now, though, as he stands in the NICU watching an exhausted Mrs. Cooper coo at her brand-new son where he lays in the incubator, Miche is happy, yes, but he is not satisfied. Not as satisfied as he should be, anyway.

It had been a tough case, a tough eight months walking her through her high-risk pregnancy, and on one hand he is ecstatic, but on the other he’s frustrated that this—this whole bringing new life into the world—happened at such an inconvenient fucking time. 

He’d had you in his lap, literally in the palm of his hand, squirming and whimpering into his mouth while your whole body shook around his two fingers, and Miche was positive he’d be able to get you to fall apart just like that, wanted you to–wanted to see your pretty face and feel your nails dig into his skin, but…

Little boy Cooper just had to come out four weeks premature. 

It’s fine, maybe even for the best. Miche had been planning to wait for a little longer anyway, make sure you know what you’re getting into before getting into it too deeply. Plus, now that you’ve both gotten a little taste, the anticipation will be even better. It’s really a win-win, right?

The god damned ache in his balls may disagree, but Miche knows leaving was the right thing to do.

When he steps out of the NICU, he’s surprised to see Erwin passing just outside, Levi at his side, coffee cups in their hands. 

“Oh, hey,” Erwin greets with a frown. “What are you doing here? I thought you had your date tonight.”

“I did,” Miche sighs. He’s even in the same clothes, just has his badge clipped to the front pocket of his shirt. 

“What? She kick your ass out or something?” Levi smirks.

Miche rolls his eyes. “She did not, thank you. Ian called me. Mrs. Cooper went into labor.”

“The high-risk one you both worked with?” Levi clarifies.

Erwin nods. “Heart transplant six months ago, thirty-eight years old, so geriatric pregnancy. She had to be watched very closely.”

Levi hums, looking past Miche to the double doors that have already closed behind him, and Miche answers his unasked question, “They’re both doing fine. I mean, he’s a month premature, so we’ll have to keep an eye on him here for a while, but so far, they’re both fine.”

“Good,” Levi nods. “I mean, sucks you got called away, but glad they’re doing alright.”

“I’ll live,” Miche grunts, catching Erwin’s eye and immediately looking away before his best friend can read into any bit of his facial expression. 

They all begin walking toward the nearest elevator bank, and Miche isn’t at all surprised when Erwin asks, “So, how did it go? You at least got through dinner, right?”

He nods, and about halfway through dessert, Miche thinks before cringing at himself. That was gross.

“I think it went well. I, uh, went ahead and told her about Petra.”

“Probably a good call. How’d she take it?”

Miche shrugs, “As well as she could have.” Elevator doors open and he steps in after the other two, leaning up against one wall as he recounts the conversation. “She’s just young, so I could see her lose a bit of confidence which is stupid because she’s so…” He reaches up to rub at his eyes. There are a million words he could use to describe you, all of them positive, but Erwin and Levi probably aren’t interested in listening to him gush, so he cuts himself off with a sharp, “Anyway,” then touches on your shithead ex and the fact that you know about his drinking problem.

“Sounds like you guys had an absolute blast,” Levi says sarcastically.

“That was us just getting stuff out of the way. Formalities, if you will.”

“Formalities,” Erwin snorts. “I guess it’s better to bring them up now than later.”

“Exactly.”

“Please tell me you actually made pleasant small talk as well,” Erwin pries. “Oh, how’d she like the outfit?”

Miche laughs. Of course, he’d want to know. “She said it was nice.”

“Did you show some ankle?”

“No.”

Levi rolls his eyes and mumbles, “Should’ve showed ankle, Zacharias.”

“I don’t understand either of you, and I no longer want to.”

They get off at the third floor, Erwin clapping a hand down on Miche’s shoulder as he goes, and then he’s left alone in the elevator until he gets off at the basement level and walks into the parking garage.

It’s getting late, nearly midnight, but he figures he can shoot you a text in hopes that you’re still awake.

<< Do you still want to hear about this case?

You message back just as he’s turning the car on.

>> why yes, i do 🥰

<< I’m about to drive home. Can I call you?

You don’t respond. Instead, Miche’s phone lights up with an incoming call from you, and he grins as he accepts it and pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Hey, sorry about earlier,” he starts because he still is, and he wants you to know.

But, like before, you brush it off with a carefree, “It’s fine. Now, tell me what happened!”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles.

“Also, I’m about to start brushing my teeth, so if I just make, like, unintelligible sounds, that’s why.”

“Noted.”

Miche hears a sink, a slight echo letting him know he’s on speaker, then begins talking, going over some of the big details without giving out too much information (the kind that violates the law).

As you warned, you respond with a myriad of hums and gurgles before telling him, “Hol ‘o, I go’a shpi–” which Miche is pretty sure translates to, hold on, I’m gonna spit, but isn’t positive until he hears you do exactly that, rinsing your mouth afterward. 

“Okay, I’m back. I’m sure that was super cute.”

The ridiculous thing is that it was super cute, that now Miche is thinking about what it would be like to be in a bathroom with you, brushing his own teeth, watching you wash your face or whatever your nightly routine is. He isn’t surprised by his desire for domesticity, having never really seen himself as a bachelor even in his years of being single, but he is a little taken aback at just how much he wants that domesticity with you. 

“Adorable, actually.”

“Whatever, goofball.” He can just imagine the way you roll your eyes and smile bashfully. “Anyway, mom and baby are doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, all things considered, they’re okay. He’s not out of the woods just yet. I’m expecting some complications, but for now they’re both doing well.”

“Good, I’m…” You pause, and Miche waits as he pulls into his parking lot. “I’m glad you left to see her through it. That was really sweet of you.”

“Trust me when I say that’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” Miche laughs, mostly at himself. 

You scoff, “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic.” He makes sure his hospital badge is tucked away safely in his console before making his way up to the loft, explaining, “I had a good time tonight. I wasn’t ready to leave.” He’s aware that he probably sounds like an earnest little schoolboy, but he’s telling the truth. 

“I wasn’t exactly ready for you to leave either, but I think it was for a pretty good reason. Plus, it’s not like we’re not gonna see each other soon.”

Miche is greeted by Minnie when he walks in. Still laying on the couch, she raises her nose and sniffs the air as if to acknowledge him. Once the door is locked, he paces over to give her a nice scratch behind the ears, all while trying to voice the question he wants to ask you. 

“So, you, uh… you’re still okay with this after learning… more about me?” 

“You mean about the ex-fiancé and drinking problem?” 

“Yeah,” he feels his face scrunch up. “That.”

“I mean, I’m glad I’ve been made aware ‘cause, you know, important stuff, but it doesn't scare me. I couldn’t expect you to just not have a past.”

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he sighs. 

“Miche, I don’t think you’ve ever made me genuinely uncomfortable, and honestly at this point, I don’t know if you could.”

He drops onto the cushion next to Minnie and kicks his shoes off, trying to let himself relax when he asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you’re just… you’re you,” is apparently the best you can come up with on the spot. Miche hears rustling and assumes you’re getting into bed, a very quiet grunt of, “Remy, move, bud,” and then you let out a long sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve tested my patience before with the whole buying me stuff without asking—”

Miche snorts then mumbles, “Yeah, not sorry.”

“And that’s what I mean. You’re so good. Like I can look back on these past couple months and know that, like, everything you’ve done has been for my well-being, and I just… I don’t know…” you exhale, apparently pondering for a moment before finishing, “I just trust you, I guess. I trust that you have your shit under control. You haven’t given me reason to not believe you don’t.”

Chest swelling, Miche can’t help but feel so incredibly fond of you. He wishes he was there with you again, laying next to you in your messy bed with your little gremlin of a dog. He wishes for a lot, and even though he knows he’s so close to getting everything he’s been wanting, he can’t help but be utterly fucking terrified.

And, he’s pretty sure you feel close to if not the exact same way.

“I just care about you, is all,” he admits. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Definitely don’t want to be the one who hurts you.”

“Do you have plans to hurt me, Miche?” you ask, and though your teasing lilt is ever-present, he can still hear the subtle seriousness in your voice.

“None whatsoever.”

“Then that’s that. I trust you not to. Now… I have study group stuff in the morning and then a bar shift tomorrow night, but…”

“Maybe we can find time to hang out this weekend?” he offers, stomach flipping at the idea.

“This weekend? Wow, that’s so fast after date one,” you say, clicking your tongue. “You must like me or something. How embarrassing.”

“Oh my god,” Miche groans, “Isn’t it your bedtime or something?”

“What are you, my mom?”

Miche sucks his teeth in response, biting back the words you’re clearly trying to bait him into saying. No, but I am your daddy. He’s not going to do it. He’s not going to rise—

“You’re dirty,” you pipe up with a giggle.

“I didn’t say anything!” he nearly shouts, breaking into a laugh. “I’m not dirty. You’re dirty. You’re the one putting these stupid ideas into my head, and for the record, that was not a thing for me until you said it a few nights ago.”

“Oh my god, I’m flattered. Will definitely be exploring that more later on.”

Gut clenching, Miche resituates himself a bit, suddenly remembering that despite how hard he was earlier this evening, he never actually got off, and that ache settles in his balls all over again.

There are many things he’d like to explore with you—hobbies and habits, and yeah, some kinks, but mostly…

Mostly Miche just wants to explore you. He wants to learn everything there is that makes you, you. And, then maybe he’ll understand himself a little better.